#i have no ide why but that always happens around this time of year every 3 years

[5eraphim]

*hits them with a big scary ray gun that turns them british *

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

All my friends in highschool were neurodivergent in one way or another

Not all of the ones I talked to outside of school were autistic but none were neurotypical

But in some classes I would have class specific friends. Like people I only really talked to when we had classes together. ALL of those people were autistic.

High school Riley did not know they were autistic

Nor did I ever seek these people out

But any time we had class together we would all just kinda group together. Like I was often the first to class on the first day and we if we were allowed to choose our own seats they would all just kinda group around me on the first day. If we had to get into groups for anything they would just kinda absorb me into their group without me having to say anything

And I have to wonder

Did they (correctly) assume i was autistic and decide to do all that on purpose

Or did they just all see me sitting as far away from other people as possible and decide they vibed with that

Either way I was always very appreciative towards them. They made the classes I assumed I would be alone in just a bit more bearable. And they never thought I was weird for not talking much at first and then oversharing once I got comfortable enough to talk to them.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

There's just so much potential for platonic !yan Tim Drake that isn't really explored. This post may flop but I like to imagine that yan! Tim Drake is actually the worse out of all his brothers...

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Look...you and i both know that Tim is canonically unhinged. But Batsis!reader doesn't. It's so easy for you to forget that your brother Tim is so dangerous. I mean he doesn't really seem all that different from any other nerdy 19 year old. His body doesn't loom over you like the more bulky of your brothers, and his presence is rather...calming? I mean there's still a bit of uneasiness there but it's so subtle that you can brush it off

He's normal when he interacts with you. He doesn't bug you to spend time with him or uncomfortably touch you like Dick does. He is sweet and gentle...He knows how you prefer to be engaged with and respects what you don't like.

But, that's what makes him so dangerous. He knows you. Every. Last. Detail. He's gotten so good at being a nasty little fly on the wall that sometimes you forget he's even in the room. He's always around you, observing and collecting data. He's got you wrapped around his fingers and you don't realize it.

But it's not your fault. It's hard to even imagine that someone as mellow as Tim could ever share the same traits as his brothers.

Yan! Tim fully picked up just how intuitive you are and how you can spot red flags easily. He's so calculated and careful with every interaction. It's amazing how natural he makes these conversations flow. Well, they better. He's spent hours analyzing and practicing how to speak to you. His heart is pounding with anticipation, as every shred of information you give him is going right into his files on you.

Oh! The files he has on you? When Jason and Dick asked him about how many he had, he said only 4. Which is true. but those 4 files have much more information and pictures of you than they could comprehend. ...and he wasn't accounting for the hard drives and physical stacks of papers he stole. I believe Tim knows more about you than you do. When was the last time you've seen your medical records? Passports? Birth certificate? Is your ID even in your wallet? Don't worry, your brother Tim is keeping them safe for you.

Yan! Tim is a little stalker who may or may not have put a tracking/listening devices in your bag so he can keep tabs on you. <33 That's why he's always wearing headphones so he cab listen in. A small piece of missed information could cost him so much. Don't be mad, batsis! He cannot risk making you suspicious of him by asking you invasive questions so this is the only way.

I Like to think you automatically sit by him. whether it be during breakfast, watching a movie or in the car. You feel safer with him and it's a better option in your head than being with Dick who will be overbearing. Tim always acts cool, even a little annoyed by you at times but inside he's screaming. Your scent, your small smiles at him and nudge his shoulders when he makes a funny remark all send him into overdrive.

But i must say, it's exhausting for him to hold back his obsession all of the time. Sometimes he envies his siblings and how shameless they are in their obsessions. Tim Drake thinks about how great it would to be to just be hugged by you or for you to want to fall asleep on him like you do with Jason.

Sometimes, our creepy detective will slip up. He will say or do something that is odd to you

"I cannot remember the name of that song i used to listen to...what was it.."

"It's this one by that local band, sis."

"oh, yeah! wait...how did you-"

"I know you better than i know myself..."

"...what?"

*an incident happened where dick basically forced you to say i love you back. Tim was there and he was so so jealous*

"You love me the most though, right?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke\

"Sure, Tim. You are my favorite Robin."

*Tim is very visibly becoming feral. Almost in the same way as Dick and you are slightly alarmed*

"...I'm your favorite Robin? So you do love me more than them."

"0-o"

He repeats it over and over again in his mind. If he was recording it like he does with many of your interaction, it will be on instant replay every morning as an affirmation.

That one time you were chilling in the study with Tim. His head was ducked, low into the computer. It was super late by this time and you didn't really want to bother him so you ended up leaving without saying anything, and headed to your room. Tim was beyond hurt that you were breaking his version of bonding time and you had the audacity to not even announce your exit. He's so swift that it startled you when he grabbed your wrist from behind. His grip was....strong.... to say the least..... and he questioned why you were leaving him.

speaking of his strength, Tim is so skinny that you forget he is well trained with a nice bit of muscle. Maybe not as strong as his brothers or Bruce but he can easily subdue you.

He's definitely broken a lock or two, to get into your room at the dead of night and watch you sleep. This is the only time when he can be as fucked up as he wants to. The unhinged look in his eyes while going through your things and taking what's interesting..The adrenaline that you might catch him, excites him. He can't help but to sickly smile as he makes his way over to you and observes. A gentle hand caresses the sides of your face. You're so perfect. He whispers on and on things he wishes he could tell you while you were awake and wouldn't think it was weird....

Maybe even once he's crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. So happy to be able to finally be able to cuddle like this.

And if you happened to wake up, and realize your dear brother, Tim was there...he has a plan for that. He knows how to play mind games on you and makes you seem like the crazy one. No one would believe you anyways. The locks are all fixed by the morning.

[persevereforahappyending]

No Man's Land |2|

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Sam can’t help but be drawn to the cute stranger from her gym, even if everything about them makes them the perfect suspect, just when Ghostface has returned.

Warnings: Talks of Murder and Killing

Word Count: 3k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Sam had her head thrown back, trying to calm her nerves as she and Tara waited for Detective Bailey to arrive. When Quinn called her father, he had said he wanted to speak with Sam. He wouldn’t confirm or deny whether the killings on the news were the work of Ghostface, but he wanted her to come down to the station. Tara had refused to let her go alone and Bailey even agreed that he’d like to see Tara as well. They arrived at the police station first thing in the morning and were immediately escorted to an interrogation room, without anyone telling them anything.

Sam finally looked up when she heard the door open, seeing Bailey enter. “Sorry about the wait,” Bailey said, giving them an awkward chuckle.

“What’s this about?” Tara asked, tapping her fingers on the table.

“The killings,” Sam cut in. “Was it Ghostface?”

“We found this,” Bailey said, tossing an evidence bag containing a bloody card onto the table, ignoring both the girls’ questions. “At the crime scene,” Bailey sat in the chair opposite of them. “In which two of your,” he pointed at Tara. “Classmates were murdered. Care to explain?” he shrugged.

Tara leaned forward, her eyes widening at what was in the baggy before she looked back at Sam. Sam furrowed her brow as she took a look as well, her face instantly going white at seeing her ID, covered in blood, and in the evidence bag. “I lost my ID months ago,” Sam mumbled, shaking her head. “I had to get a new one.”

“Why didn’t you report your ID as stolen?”

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” Sam glared at Bailey.

Sam didn’t know detective Bailey too well. She knew he was a homicide detective and when Quinn decided to go to college at Blackmore, he transferred to New York so he could keep an eye on her. Quinn complained about him occasionally, usually saying how overprotective he was, though he did allow Quinn to live on her own with Sam and Tara, even though it would be much cheaper for her to live with him. Bailey always seemed like the typical dad, but Sam wasn’t sure, she saw danger around every corner but the majority of the time it was just her being paranoid.

“Where were you last night?” Bailey asked, getting back to his questioning.

“You can’t seriously think she’s a suspect,” Tara said. “That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just trying to figure out what happened,” Bailey held his hands up in defense. “Do you have an alibi?” He looked at Sam.

Sam sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I was at work,” Sam answered. “Then when I came home Chad and I went to the gym, then back to the apartment.”

“And someone can verify this?”

“Lots of people probably,” Sam shrugged. “Your daughter being one of them, she was at the apartment last night.”

“It’s true,” Tara said, crossing her arms. “We were all with someone the entire day. Anything else?”

“Your classmates,” Bailey said, pointing at Tara. “Had a Ghostface shrine, it seems they killed their professor a Ms. Crane.” Tara sucked in a breath, Sam didn’t know her personally, but she had heard Tara and Mindy mention her a few times. “Earlier this evening. Know anything about that?”

“Why would we? I barely talked to them.”

“Are you familiar with a,” Bailey flipped open a file, squinting his eyes at something in the file, “Richie Kirsch?”

Sam couldn’t help the way she shifted in her seat, trying not to react. “He’s my ex,” she answered with a tight-lipped smile. “And he’s dead.”

“Yeah, he and my best friend tried to kill us last year,” Tara snapped. “What’s this got to do with anything?”

“Well, it seems these boys,” Bailey said, tapping his fingers on the photos of the two guys killed. “Intended to finish his movie.” Sam and Tara’s faces both fell at those words. “It seems they were working on a plan to kill you two.”

“We don’t know anything about that,” Sam said.

“Right, right,” Bailey mumbled to himself. “So, it’s just a coincidence these two boys end up dead?”

“There are no coincidences when Ghostface is involved.”

“Look,” Tara cut in, seeming frustrated and tired. “Are we under arrest or can we go?”

Bailey looked between the two sisters then down at the photos and evidence bag. Sam held her breath as she waited for his response. She wasn’t sure what was going through his mind, he still never confirmed if Ghostface was back, and she didn’t know if Bailey suspected her or thought she and Tara were in danger.

“You’re free to go,” Bailey said. “Just don’t leave town,” he gave Sam a look, like he knew she wanted to run.

Tara didn’t hesitate to get up, nearly knocking over her chair in the process. Sam gave Bailey one last glance before following after Tara. They flagged down a cab and Tara gave the guy directions to Blackmore. When Sam furrowed her brow Tara showed her Mindy’s text saying to meet at the school so they could go over suspects before class.

Before she knew it Sam had her head thrown back again, this time as she sat on a bench outside Blackmore College. Everyone was already there when Sam and Tara arrived and since then Mindy had been standing in front of everyone pacing back and forth. Sam just wanted her to get to the point already, she wanted to try and get some sleep before she had to go to work. She knew she wouldn’t get any sleep though; she wasn’t able to sleep last night and there was no way she’d be able to before her shift, not with Ghostface out there.

“Suspects!” Mindy said, finally seeming to get to the point. “With Ghostface, most likely, back we should go over potential people who might want to kill us! Because Bailey clearly won’t be of any help.”

Sam couldn’t help but glance at Quinn. The girl frowned at Mindy’s words but didn’t move to argue with her. Mindy also didn’t bother sparing Quinn a glance, let alone an apology. Sam couldn’t help but frown at Quinn’s reaction, or her lack of reaction. Detective Bailey was Quinn’s father, and she wasn’t saying anything to stick up for him or defend him. Sam wasn’t sure if that alone was suspicious or if Quinn just knew by now there was no point in arguing with Mindy.

“First!” Mindy continued, holding up a finger. “Ethan! The shy, dorky guy who no one suspects because he’s just so shy and dorky.”

“I’m a suspect because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan questioned, gesturing at Chad awkwardly.

“Roommate lotteries can be fixed,” Mindy rolled her eyes as if it was the easiest thing in the world to do. “And second, Quinn!” Mindy turned, smiling at Quinn. “Tara and Sam’s slutty roommate, a horror movie classic.”

“Sex positive,” Quinn corrected. Though she didn’t seem offended by Mindy’s accusation like Ethan had.

“How did you come to live with Sam and Tara?”

“I answered their ad online.”

“No need to say more, you’ve implicated yourself enough!”

“It was an anonymous ad,” Tara said. “And we vetted her.” Sam nodded, she had done incredibly thorough questioning to both Quinn and Bailey when they were interviewing potential roommates. “Plus, her dads a cop.”

“And that makes it more likely!” Mindy gestured wildly. “Cop dad is a great cover! Besides, what are the odds, your dad, would get this case?” Mindy crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at Quinn.

“How the hell would I know?” Quinn crossed her arms, finally seeming to get annoyed by Mindy.

“And lastly, Anika,” she smiled at her girlfriend. “You aren’t clear either.”

Anika’s face fell. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“Sorry babe,” Mindy shrugged. Anika just scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her head away as she refused to look at Mindy.

“I think that’s all the suspects,” Mindy said, giving herself a little nod of approval.

“And Y/N,” Sam added. Everyone turned to her with raised eyebrows. “What?” Sam shoved her hands in her pockets. “I just think they should be on the list.”

“I thought you said you haven’t ever spoken to them?” Mindy narrowed her eyes.

“I haven’t.”

“Then why would they be a suspect?” Tara questioned, crossing her arms.

“Because we have the same schedule!” Sam tried to reason. “No matter when I go, no matter what day, or what time, they’re there.”

“Suspicious,” Mindy admitted. “Anything else?”

“They have fighting experience. Not sure how much but I’ve seen them train, they definitely know what they’re doing.”

Sam continued to ramble on about you. She told them once again about how similar your schedules seemed, even when it was well after midnight and there was no one else there you’d show up. She talked all about the kind of people you did talk to and how you were otherwise reserved. Then she got into your workout and mentioned how much you lift and how much you focus on either sparring with someone or hitting the punching bag. When Sam was finished revealing all her observations about you, she looked around at the others. Everyone was looking back at her with raised eyebrows, she was going to assume they were just shocked by her keen observation skills.

“They are pretty badass,” Chad added, holding a finger up. “I hate to admit it because they seem so cool,” he let out a little chuckle. “But the way they fought that dude in the ring,” he let out an impressed whistle. “I’d hate to see what they’d do to an enemy.”

Everyone’s face slowly morphed into one of worry. Ethan and Quinn gave each other a look of concern and Tara looked at Sam as if Sam would have a solution to their problem. Sam could only offer her sister a comforting smile, she didn’t know who this new Ghostface was, but she wouldn’t let him hurt Tara.

“Okay, we’ll add them to the list,” Mindy agreed.

Sam nodded. A part of her felt a little guilty for suspecting you of such heinous things when you’ve only ever been nice, but she couldn’t take the risk. She dated Richie for months and he betrayed and used her, she hadn’t even spoken a single word to you. Sam didn’t have a real reason to suspect you, besides the fact that you went to the same gym, which a lot of people went to, but none of them had even close to the same random schedule she did, and she had never seen any of them fight like you could. She hoped you were just the cute stranger from her gym though, and not some psychopath. But she knew her life, there was no way her first crush since Richie was just a normal person that went to her gym, and all the other stuff, the stuff that drew her to you, was just coincidence, she wasn’t that lucky.

After being satisfied with their suspect list everyone went their separate ways with most of them going to class, while Sam went to work. Sam managed to get home and change but didn’t have time for a nap before having to head to her job. She managed to make it to the diner she worked at, just before she had to clock in.

Sam tried to focus on work and not let her mind wander to Ghostface and what was happening. She ignored the way people kept glancing at her, she ignored the articles she saw on their phones when she came to fill their coffee cups, she ignored the way customers bumped into her, spilling their milkshakes, ketchup, and syrup all over her. She ignored it all, she put on her fake smile and apologized to the next person who bumped into her.

Sam glanced at her phone every time she had a spare moment, when she knew, she wouldn’t get caught by her boss. She ordered everyone to text her throughout the day, so she’d know they were okay. She ordered her sister though to text her every fifteen minutes, Tara had rolled her eyes, but she had been doing it, if Sam didn’t hear from Tara within the time frame she would try calling first and then head off to wherever Tara was supposed to be.

When Sam’s shift finally finished, she rushed home, ignoring the way everyone was lounging in the living room once again as she ran to her bedroom. She didn’t have long before she needed to be at her therapy appointment, and she needed to shower and change first. She moved as quick as she could, showering long enough to get rid of the diner smell but not long enough to actually enjoy having the water rain down on her.

“I have therapy tonight,” Sam said as she rushed around the living room, ignoring her still damp hair. “I’ll be back later.” Tara nodded. “Be careful, stay inside, and don’t unlock the door for anyone.” Sam gave all of them a pointed look.

“We know,” Tara sighed. “You be careful too,” she whispered.

Sam smiled at her sister, giving everyone a quick wave goodbye before making her way out the door. She made sure to lock all the locks and double check herself before walking down the stairs. Her neighbor Danny offered her a kind smile, holding the door open for her as he was coming, and she was going. Sam did a quick check of her surroundings before shoving her hands in her pocket and began making her way to her therapy appointment.

Before Sam knew it, she was sitting in her therapist’s office, pulling at her sweater as she refused to look her therapist in the eye. She hadn’t been seeing the woman very long, she was seeing a guy for a while but when he learned her dad was Billy Loomis, he basically stopped being helpful. When Sam found Doctor Williams, Sam had started the first session by telling her all about her father, if this therapist wasn’t going to be helpful either Sam figured she might as well figure it out right away instead of wasting all her time and money.

“We’ve been sitting in silence for twenty minutes,” Doctor Williams said, not looking up from her notepad as she continued to write something down. Sam wasn’t sure what the doctor could be writing considering she had yet to speak. “Your session is only an hour long, if you want to talk,” she glanced at her watch. “You might want to think about starting soon.”

Sam frowned and flicked a glare at Williams. “I met someone,” Sam said, breaking the ice.

“That’s good,” Williams smiled, setting down her notepad and pen. “How has that been?”

“Well, I haven’t exactly talked to them yet.”

“How-How does that work?” Williams furrowed her brow.

“We go to the same gym,” Sam nodded along with her words. She was sure this was probably making her sound even crazier than she already seemed. “We’ve shared looks and a few nods,” Sam smiled to herself

She didn’t miss the small smile still on Williams’s face. “And what’s stopping you from talking to them?”

Sam’s eyes drifted down to the carpet, she pursed her lips, nodding to herself. “I think someone is trying to kill me and my sister again.” She looked up to see William’s staring at her with wide eyes. “And they’re on the suspect list,” Sam gave a little shrug.

Williams opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly trying to process her words. “You think the person you like is trying to kill you?” Williams said slowly.

“Well, not just them, everyone’s a suspect.” Williams nodded unsurely. “I’m not being paranoid,” Sam tried to assure. “At least I don’t think I am,” she shook her head. “Tara always says I’m too paranoid but this time there’s a legitimate reason.”

Sam’s words slowly died down as Doctor Williams raised her hand. “Let’s start from the beginning,” Williams said softly.

Sam swallowed, ringing her hands as she tried to calm her nerves. “There was a murder last night. Two boys in Tara’s class killed their professor.” Williams furrowed her brow. “Then someone murdered them in their apartment.” Williams opened her mouth, but Sam wasn’t done yet. “There’s no proof, but the killings might have been committed by Ghostface.”

“And what makes you think this is Ghostface? Are you sure he’s not just on your mind, it’s around that time of year, no?”

Sam clenched her hands together. “The two students, they were fanatics,” she rolled her eyes. “Fans of Richie apparently. They were planning on killing me and my sister, but someone killed them first.”

“And you think that someone is Ghostface?”

Sam nodded. “Ghostface would never let two kids,” she scoffed. “Take out me and my sister. Not that they could,” she ran a hand through her hair.

Before Doctor Williams could say anything else the timer went off, signaling the end of their session. “See, you next week, I guess.” Sam gave a shy smile as she got up from the couch.

“Wait, I don’t want you to do anything rash,” Williams rushed, following behind her but Sam was already out the door.

Sam checked her surroundings once again as she exited the building. She began her walk back to the apartment. When she got back to the apartment, she saw everyone still in the living room. “We got pizza,” Tara said, nodding to the box on the table. Sam snapped a glare at her sister as she dropped her keys into the bowl by the door. “Anika went to pick it up,” Tara held up her hands, but Sam didn’t miss the eyeroll.

Sam sighed, shaking her head at her sister as she made her way to her room. She got ready for bed, but her mind wouldn’t stop. She kept thinking about the killings, about Ghostface potentially being back, and who they could trust.

Taglist: @thatshyboy1998

[hannieehaee]

content: husband!wonwoo, fluff, gender neutral reader, u guys are married, just a very tender night in bed shared with ur husband wonu (kill me), etc.

wc: 514

a/n: sorry this is so short T-T a cute night in his arms is the first thing that came to mind at the mention of husband wonwoo </3 god i want him so bad

masterlist

"do you remember the day i proposed?", he asked as he absentmindedly ran his hands up and down your back, holding you against his chest.

you were laying in bed together, dissecting each other's days as you allowed yourselves to relax after your respective grueling days. you matched his actions, allowing your hands to feel the warmth of his back as you dug them under his shirt, soft in your movements just like him.

you half snorted, "'remember'? it was only two years ago, nonu. i think about it all the time."

"yeah?", he smiled at this, repositioning you so that he could look into your eyes. he chuckled as you complained at the new distance, having been completely pressed up against him just moments ago.

"i was so nervous that day. i was terrified you were gonna say no," he revealed, shy smile adorning his face.

"really? why would i ever say no, nonu? you knew i was in love with you."

"yeah, but ... i dont know. never really imagined id get to marry the love of my life. i saw it in movies. i saw my parents, my grandparents. i saw people i knew. but i never thought it'd be me someday. it was only ever a dream. you made it a reality."

being married to wonwoo, you shouldve gotten used to his soft-spoken words by now. to the way he'd convey the sweetest of statements without even batting an eye. but you still found yourself affected by him, with your heart melting every time he unknowingly waxed poetic at you.

"nonu .. it was always a yes. you couldve asked me on day one and it wouldve been a yes."

"oh? you liked me that much?", now he was smirking, pulling you closer once again.

"shut up. you're hot, okay? i'm not stupid you're totally wife material."

"hah," he chuckled, "'wife?'"

"don't argue with me. you asked me to marry you."

he hummed, "yeah. and i'd do it again," he paused, "love waking up next to you every day. love holding you through the night even more. never knew how soundly i could sleep until i first held you in my arms."

there he was again. his words made you feel like you were floating, never being able to get used to the adoration he held for you. you couldnt help yourself when you wrapped yourself tighter around him, nuzzling your face into the warmth of the crook of his neck. he took the hint and held you even closer, making sure his arms trapped the entirety of you against him.

this had to be your favorite thing about being married to your husband. he'd loved and held you all throughout your relationship, but now that you were married, every time you were in his arms it felt like a promise. like he would keep you close to him no matter what happened.

"i love you."

"me more," he kissed the top of your head, chuckling at your whine in disagreement, "sleep, my love. let me hold you and never let go."

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 29 — DUBCON. dabi x f!hero!reader ﾉ nsfw + dark content warning ﾉ return to masterlist & view tag list

what happens when your curiosity takes you to the league of villains’ hideout? luckily enough, there’s only one of them there to greet you— and the world seems kind enough to let you off with a sweet deal. fuck him just once to guarantee his silence, or so you thought.

contains ﾉ tw dark content: dubcon- very heavy dubcon to be safe, mentions of murder, brief mention of being his pet, fear play, reader has a support quirk that is not fit for fighting alone, forced orgasm, temperature play- kind of, hints of manipulation ﾉ corruption

The day you held your hero ID in your hands for the very first time also happened to be your first instance of being told to stay far away from the League of Villains.

You only vaguely remember the reasoning being that they were too dangerous for a support like yourself (especially one with zero experience under their belt) along with another thing that went in one ear and straight out the other.

A part of you has always wondered why the heroes you worked under had gone through so much trouble to ensure you stay back. Keep you hidden from the spotlight, perhaps- because how could you improve if you were always being protected? It was frustrating to see everyone besides yourself on the news.

Ironically, it’s the same reason why you’ve never been faced with the realization of how weak you really are until your head is being pressed into a table, arms easily held tight behind your back- and an infamous villain right behind you. A real one.

Not a simulation today- not one monitor in sight.

“Shigaraki would have loved to meet you,” his voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel danger- a concept someone like you is entirely unfamiliar with. “He’s always had a thing for types like you.”

He pushes back inside- this time slowly, as if trying to brand the moment deep into your mind, and you only manage to weakly whimper when his hands tighten around your wrists, the heat emitting from his body acting as a cruel reminder that he has the power to kill- and you don’t.

“N-no,” the desperation in your voice is painfully obvious, “not him, okay? That wasn’t part of the deal..!” You can feel your heart pounding against your chest at the thought of meeting this man’s leader, breathing short and labored as different images flash across your mind as to what being ‘his type’ would imply.

You feel him throb inside you, and a whimper slips out.

“Ah, of course,” his hands land on your hips before he holds you still, letting himself push deeper inside you until you’re stuffed to brim- full of him. “I just wonder about what would happen to that fragile body of yours.”

“Just think about it…”

You think your body definitely shouldn’t be reacting like this. Underneath the trembling and shivering- your cunt flutters around him. Eagerly and hungrily, as if it’s been waiting for someone like him for years.

“Or… actually, how about this, hero?” He grunts- rougher now, pace picking up enough to make you gasp and lock up underneath him. “Forget the deal. Pay me a visit every week, and the League will never hear about you. How about it?”

“B-but—” You halt as soon as you feel his palms heat up against your skin.

“We both know that muscle-head would have a field day with you.” You feel a cold bead of sweat roll down your temples, clammy hands struggling to keep your grip on the table. Your whole body feels numb- disobedient, but he feels good.

Too good for you to register exactly why your core suddenly feels so tight at the suggestion. “And if I remember, Compress likes types like you too. That guy’s got a mean streak,” Dabi leans to press his chest against yours- cold staples making you gasp, and he whispers against your neck, “he’d break you, you know.”

Your eyes widen- knees locking up, and your heartbeat rises to pound in your ears. “P-please— please slow down—”

He ignores you, only giving you a laugh in response. “What a pitiful state you’d be in. Think about it. I’ve been pretty nice, haven’t I?”

“W-wait!” You’re desperate now, reaching back to push at his hips and rising onto your toes to escape him. “I feel— feel weird—”

Something inside him seems to snap at this. You’re yelping as soon as your head is back on the table the next second- big hand roughly pushing you down and you sob. “What a hero you are,” he’s laughing loudly now, “cumming and crying on some League dick. Where are those pathetic bodyguards of yours now?”

You open your mouth to protest, but he moves to clamp his palm over it- roughly pulling you back in one swift motion until you’re flush against his chest. “Those ones drooling over you? How about I just kill them so you don’t have anywhere left to go? I’ll take you in as my pet,” you feel him smile against your neck- sick and twisted, and your cunt only clenches in response. “Be a good little hero and cum if you agree.”

Your eyes shoot open the same time he slams against a deep part inside you, body betraying every single shred of morality you have left when you cum, hard. It takes you by force, leaving no chance for it to go unnoticed by him when you’re clenching, shaking, and dripping underneath him like this. He has the heart to let go of you, let your weak body collapse onto the table beneath you as your chest heaves up and down for air, tears brimming your eyes and he only throbs inside you once more, hungry for more.

“Then it’s a deal.” His hands run up your sides, content with the way you shiver and lean into his touch. “A good choice, hero.”

dividers by @adornedwithlight

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Bad Idea, Right?

Summary: You know this is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's fine.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Dean being a cocky little shit. Dean being fundamentally irresistible.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Word Count: 1,317

A/N: So, Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo (fabulous song, give it a listen!) came on earlier, and this little scenario just popped into my head.

P.S. I wrote this quickly - so sorry for any mistakes!

Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The phone rang six times before you finally dragged your eyes open to groan and grope for the buzzing, trilling device on your bedside table.

You looked at the caller ID and were instantly awake and pissed. You sent the call to voicemail and dropped your phone on the bed beside you. 

But seconds later it was making noise again, so you angrily swiped your phone open just long enough to bark out a few words.

“Go to hell, Winchester. Stop calling me. I told you last time, we’re done.”

You hung up without hearing a word from him. You knew why he was calling, and you weren't interested.

Liar.

Your internal voice was always brutally honest with you, so you conceded that okay, yes, you were always going to be interested in a booty call from Dean Winchester, aka Walking Sex.

But you swore the last time that it was, well, the last time.

The two of you had already tried dating years ago, but it ended badly. You were both too much alike, stubborn and incapable of explaining your feelings to one another. You were pretty sure you loved him, but when you imagined telling him that, it felt like you were exposing a raw nerve. 

And it wasn’t as if Dean was the most emotionally available person, so between the two of you there had been an abundance of heat and acrobatic sex followed by fighting and more make up sex, but since that didn’t really translate to a healthy relationship, you’d both agreed to end it.

But even though you broke up over a year ago, you’d never quite managed to quit each other. Every month or so one of you called up the other, and no matter what you told yourself, that you were just gonna hang out, just gonna talk about the hunts you'd been on, inevitably, the night always ended with the two of you falling into bed for a night of extraordinary sex. 

You knew it was unhealthy, though, so you’d told him the last time that you were through, that this couldn’t keep happening. The conversation had devolved quickly and exploded into a massive fight that ended with him slamming out of your hotel room with just his unbuttoned jeans tugged up over his hips, dragging his shirt, shoes and jacket with him.

But now here he was at three in the morning calling again and again. 

And again! You thought angrily as your phone started buzzing once more.

You picked it up and swiped it open, drawing in a big breath to yell at him, but he spoke before you had the chance and his deep voice already had your stomach swooping and your resolve wavering.

“Sweetheart, just hear me out. I know what you said last time, and I know it’s a bad idea, but fuck baby, I just need you. Need to feel you moving against me, clenching so tight around me. It’s been too fucking long and I miss the taste of you.”

You tried desperately to hang on to your anger, but it was melting fast beneath the onslaught of need coursing through you.

Likely knowing he already had the upper hand, Dean continued. “Let me come over and make you feel good. You know you miss me too.”

Even as your head screamed at you to hang up, you heard yourself caving. “Get here in fifteen minutes or the chance is gone.” You said, knowing that even that was a lie.

But Dean hung up without another word and ten minutes later you heard the Impala squeal into your driveway. That sound alone left you dripping in anticipation. 

He didn’t even have the chance to knock, because you wrenched open the door as he bounded up your porch steps.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked pointlessly. 

But Dean nodded. “Yeah probably.”

You stood staring at each other for a heartbeat before you shook your head and leapt at him. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”

Dean was already pulling off your clothes as he pushed you back into your house and slammed the door behind him. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and yanked at his t-shirt as he got your pajama shorts off and then ripped off your tank top.

He growled as he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He dipped his head down to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and making you throw your head back with a shout of pleasure.

He set you on your kitchen table so he could kick off his boots and push down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and for some reason that realization made you feral. 

He swept two of his thick fingers through your slit, groaning at the dripping mess he found. He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and sucked your juices from the tips. 

“So fucking delicious baby. I’m gonna need to feast on you later, but right now all I can think about is getting my cock buried so fucking deep into that sweet pussy that you feel me for days, maybe even weeks.” 

His filthy words always drove you crazy. Listening to his deep, gruff voice as he described everything he was going to do to you, had made you come untouched more than once.

He slipped his fingers back into your slick, burying them inside you this time and scissoring you open, before sliding in and out of you a few times with a wet squelching sound. Then he curled his fingers forward like he was beckoning you to him, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, pressing and rubbing until you were writhing on the table and begging for him.

“Dean, please, just give it to me.”

“Yeah baby? You want it?” Dean asked with a smirk that made you wanna smack him a little. 

“Yeah, jackass! Why do you think you’re here?” You shouted at him breathlessly.

“Knew you were needing this big cock, knew you couldn’t go without me any more than I could go without you.”

He suddenly drove himself all the way into your heat with one thrust, ripping a pleasured scream from your throat. You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hard, straining muscles as you both looked down to watch his thick cock slide in and out of your cunt, opening you up again and again.

You dropped back onto your elbows, head thrown back, as Dean lifted your hips off the table so he could drive in deeper.

“Jesus fuck!” Dean ground out. “You take me so fucking good, baby. Never had anybody take my cock like you do, so perfectly, clenching around me so goddamn tight.” 

As you squeezed him hard again, he sucked in his breath on a hiss and continued to pound into you, shaking the table and drawing endless, keening moans from deep inside your chest. Finally, he slammed into you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot again and pushing you over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, you clamped down on his cock, making him shout out your name as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. 

He let your hips drop back onto the table and his softening dick slipped out of you. But he pushed it back inside and began nibbling on your breasts as he breathed out his words against your skin.

“I wanna feel you around me for a little longer, feel the way those little shuddering aftershocks of yours send electricity shooting straight through me.” He slid his hand to your clit and began rubbing you. “Gonna make you come over and over while I’m inside you, get me hard all over again.”

All you could do was moan and scratch your nails across his shoulders as the pleasure built deep inside you once more. A weak voice echoed in the back of your head reminding you this was a bad idea. But you just ignored it.

Fuck it, it’s fine.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27

@waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

[huellitaa]

⋅˚₊‧ ୨ feeling uncomfy in ur own skin

ok so this is something ive been struggling with for years. like i wake up some days and just feel Eugh way more than id like to. SO i decided i'd make a little guide on this! for me and for you 🩷✨

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 reasons why we could be feeling uncomfortable with ourselves and who we are

♡ having a shitty mental diet and consuming media and things that make you feel bad abt urself

♡ being in an environment where we're constantly being judged or put down, even over the most basic things

♡ hanging around negative people or negative places

♡ not giving urself enough credit for ur own achievements and accomplishments

♡ changing urself constantly for others and not having a clear sense of self to hold on to

♡ not having boundaries on how you and others treat you

♡ staying stagnant in the same place in your life and not changing (🎀🗒️also read: get comfy being uncomfy ♡)

♡ not paying enough attention to yourself and avoiding your genuine thoughts, feelings and emotions

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 1. be gentle with yourself!

pleasepleaseplease its ok to have bad days its ok to not feel great every day. treat yourself as you would someone you love. if you just aren't feeling good today, then you aren't feeling good! honour that and respect that and deal with that accordingly. even if you are uncomfortable with yourself right now or you don't like yourself right now, please try and treat yourself with care regardless, because no matter what stage you are in in your life right now you are and always will be the most important person in ur life, so TREAT URSELF LIKE IT🫶💖

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 2. inspiration, not comparison!

i know its often told not to go looking at people who are ahead of you in these times but hear me out. i think looking at and observing people you admire who are further ahead of you is very motivating to build yourself up and *become more like them* in your own way. you look up to them because of ___? what can you do to become your own version of that? thinking like this gets me more inspired to just get out of bed because i want to be more like them.

two words for this one - NO. COMPARISON. gaining inspiration from others to better yourself and comparing yourself to others are two completely different things. 🫶 (shameless self promo, but i have a post on this here! 🩷✨)

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 3. analysis: detective work chapter!

journal and think and think to urself why u might feel like this or what caused this. when did it start? has anything happened lately that may have caused this? how does it feel, in depth? what can you do to combat this? how can you make it through the day & make it so you do even better tomorrow?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 4. channeling the mindset!

back to my point on our idols, thinking like them & thinking what they'd do in this situation helps me a lot. personally one of my idols is ada lovelace so whenever im really tired and unmotivated or insecure on my abilities or appearance or anything else i think to myself "what would she do?" and 9 times out of 10 im up at my desk in my cutest outfit hard at work. this is def one of my favourite points and something i use on the daily for like literally everything and 100% recommend 🩷✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 5. what would i do?

similarly, ask urself what the best version of yourself or the version of urself youre working towards would do in this situation. be your own inspiration. be ur own muse. would they stay in bed and rot all day? if the answer is no then ur up. out. immediately. ask urself what they would do. if ur feeling drained, would they take a day off to do some self care and recharge? if ur feeling sad, would they be gentle with themselves and let themselves feel sad for a little while & try to work to the root of the problem?

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 6. understanding yourself!

make a list of the things that make you the happiest and most comfortable & productive and the things that make you the unhappiest and the opposite of those things. i mentioned this in my recharge day post, but figuring out these will help you find out which negative behaviours or habits are lowering ur vibrations and making u feel like this, and help u to engage more in the things that make you happy with yourself and everything around you 💗✨

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 7. pay attention!

pay close attention to ur internal landscape and your self talk throughout the day. note down every little thing you notice, even if you think it won't be helpful; for example, do you find yourself indulging in negative talk abt urself, negative talk abt others, constantly being pessimistic and expecting the worst, indulging in judgement and criticism of urself and everyone around you, getting distracted easily, and so on.

🧸𓂃 ࣪˖ 8. what would i do, part 2

like i mentioned earlier, you should be your own inspiration. you should be your own muse. as much as it's nice to have idols, when ur trying to change something about urself and adjust and improve ur own behaviours, you should be mainly focusing on what you want to achieve by changing said behaviours. do you know who you're working towards being? do you know how you want to feel? do you know what you are changing these things you feel into? think about whether or not the person you are now lines up with the person you want to be in all aspects of ur life. if you feel like you aren't even trying to meet these standards then of course ur gonna feel bad about urself. of course don't be too hard on urself, but keep this in mind. 💓✨

finally, remember that these things are temporary and it wont be like this forever. ur beautiful and perfect no matter what and in these times u gotta show up for yourself even more and never give up! i believe in u 🫶🩷

all my love 💗💬✨🎀

[bkglovergirl]

Hi there! So I was wondering if you could make a fic about bakugou x reader, where she and bakugou were childhood friends similar to him and deku, but the reader has been obvious about her crush on him, always complimenting him, telling him she likes him, even going to UA with him.

He would always straight up rejects her but lowkey likes her, (moving forward to kats arc where hes being a better person lol) the reader still makes him bentos from time to time, always follows him but it doesn't seem to 'irritate' him as much (hes just so happy with her always taking his side), patching him up ect. you get the picture

that is until a girl from class B started taking a liking to bakugou as well and theres a senario where reader gets the wrong idea and think that they're dating class B bitch who always tries to get on her nerves, but in reality bakugou straight up rejects her

reader changing bla bla bla, bakugou being like "WHYD YOU STOP BABYING ME STUPID ASS??!"

readers like "wtf?" bakugous like, "if you we have a problem talk to me, im your bf after all"

sorry if its long. i had a wonderful dream id like to relive ❤️

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Bakugou X Reader

Childhood friends to lovers

I love the miscommunication trope, the ending is a little bit different.

Word Count: 2.3k

ೃ⁀➷

Ever since you could remember and much to Bakugou’s dismay you, Deku, and him have been childhood best friends. One thing is very well known between the trio. You have the biggest crush on Katsuki Bakugou. You make sure it’s known. The first time you realized you liked him, you told him almost right away. You both were around the age of seven and were at a playground fooling around. Neither of you guys had gotten your quirks and you “trained” at this particular playground every day whenever you could. You were running chasing the “villain” Deku around and around. Both your faces had dirt covered and you knew with how your clothes looked your mom was gonna be upset at you but who cares? You didn't.

“I’m gonna get you!”

“Nuh-uh!” Deku runs behind the slide and you follow after. 

“Boo! Huh?” He had disappeared, quickly you looked around and saw him running up onto the base of the playhouse and into one of the small tunnels that connect the two. You run after. Not paying attention you miss one of the steps on the stairs and fall. Bakugou close behind went to go catch you and it was right then and there his quirk manifested and burned your arm as he grabbed you. “Ow! Ow!” You whined looking up at Bakugou. 

“Are you okay?!” Deku comes running back down towards you both and you are slightly dazed so Bakugou asks again, “Are you okay!”

“Your quirk! Bakugou your quirk!!” 

“I KNOW STUPID BUT ARE YOU OKAY?” You and Deku both give each other a look before looking at Bakugou. 

“Yes, I’m okay!” you lied. “Bakugou, your quirk!” He smiled, and it was almost like you watched his ego form right then and there. 

‘Hell yeah, I got my quirk before you two!' He turns and puts his arm out away from you guys and gives a small blast. “Look how cool it is!” After some of the excitement dies down, you manage to beg Bakugou to give you a piggyback as he walks you home after you both drop off Deku. “I don’t see the point in this.” He adjusts you on his back a bit to make it more comfortable for himself.

“Think of this as payback.” You giggle as you hear him groan. “Hey Bakugou?”

“What.”

“I like you.”

ೃ⁀➷

Years later you guys got into UA together and lucky for you and Izuku, in the same classroom as well. Confessing to Katsuki happens at least every other week, and him rejecting you happens every time. You both have gotten into a schedule. You’d walk to school and on certain days bring him a Bento box. You’d go to class and try and do everything with him if Mr Aizawa allows it. At the end of the day, Katsuki always walks you to your dorm before walking to his. 

You knock on Katsuki's door and hear some grumbling before he answers the door, “Why can’t I get you at your dorm? Why do you always come to mine?” You shrug and hand him the Bento box you made him. “You gotta stop making these.”

“You say that, but you love it!” he rolls his eyes and takes it out of your hands. You both start walking to class together. “So I was thinking you and I could pair up because I heard Izuku and Todoroki are gonna pair up.” 

“Why do you always wanna pair up together.” “To save you from the embarrassment of not getting picked.”

“I would get picked!”

“Absolutely not.” You go to open the door to the classroom but Katsuki quickly opens it for you, you smile and walk in. 

You follow him to lunch and sit next to him. He grumbles his small complaint but quickly eats the food he complained about. He never says thank you or compliments the food, but you know he appreciates it by how empty he leaves the bento once he’s done. “It’s cold.”

“Stop complaining, maybe you should have brought your jacket.”

“Alright asshole my fault I forgot it!” The bickering goes back a forth a bit before you stand up, “Walk without me I need to talk to Denki about something.”

“Whatever.”

ೃ⁀➷

You switch the song on your phone before putting it in your skirt pocket and walk to class. You smile seeing Katsuki ahead of you and run to catch up but stop quickly. Katsuki is handing a girl his jacket and she’s smiling at him. Your heart sinks and you feel nauseous as you watch him open the door for the girl. You look at his face. ‘Is he blushing?!’ you bite the inside of your cheek and walk into the classroom. You hear Katsuki call after you but you ignore him. The small banter between you two is non-existent and the whole class quickly takes notice because you are uncomfortably quiet. The notes Katsuki passes to you go unread and you push them off your desk. Katsuki is panicking in his head, he is going through every single thing he’s done today and he can’t think of anything he has done wrong. You were fine at lunch and if anything happened you wouldn't ignore him, if anything you'd whine and complain to him about it. To Katsuki’s surprise, he’s really annoyed you aren't complaining to him. The bell rings and you quickly stuff your bag with all your things and speed walk to the door. “Hi is Katsu there?!” of course, you would run into her and Katsu?! Who the fuck does she think she is? Everyone is staring at the two of you, you step to the side to let the girl in and she runs up to Katsuki. “Katsu!” Your classmate's eyes follow the girl and look at you thinking the same exact thing you are. You shrug and walk out.

ೃ⁀➷

The next morning you walk to the classroom by yourself. Denki and Izuku come to check on you but you wave them off saying you are okay. Before they both walk away you quickly ask Denki to be partners in training. He gives a look to Izuku before agreeing. Katsuki walks in minutes later, late. He tries to talk to you but Aizawa tells him to get into his seat and he obeys. 

Training starts a couple of hours later, and just like you guessed, no one wants to partner with Katsuki. He watched as you walked over to Denki when Aizawa announced that you all should grab partners. He’s crushed but shakes it off. His pride stops him from walking up to you. Kirishima takes one for the team and partners up with Katsuki. The training goes well, and surprisingly, you and Denki are a great team.

“I think we should be a team more often, Y/N!” You smile, agreeing with him. The next set of teams that are put against each other are You and Denki vs. Kirishima and Katsuki. During the whole fucking battle you manage to avoid Katsuki, you don’t know how you manage to pull that off and neither does he because he tried so hard to come after you specifically. By the end of the battle you and Denki come out victorious and Katsuki is pissed. Katsuki rips off his gauntlet looking at you and Denki walking off together and talking.

“Denki I-”

“Kaminari.” he corrects.

“Kaminari.” You smile. “I just don’t get it. Who the fuck is that girl?! Where did she come from? I’m with Katsuki so much how did I not notice there was another girl.”

“Doesn't he reject you all the time?”

“A part of me doesn't like it’s a rejection. He likes the things I do for him, but his rejection seems like a wait, not a no.” you put your hands up to your face, “I’ve liked him since we were little. The memory of me first liking him is imprinted into my body! How do you just get over that? How do you get over Katsuki Bakugou.” Kaminari puts his hand out to stop you from walking into a wall. You look at him and his face is looking at you with confusion.

“What do you mean by imprinted?” You roll up your sleeve and show him the big scar that was left on your body. 

“This happened when his quirk first manifested. It was by accident and instead of celebrating his quirk he made sure I was okay first.”

“That doesn't sound like Bakugou.”

“I KNOW!” You rest your back against the wall, and Kaminari leans against it facing you. You don’t know how long you talked, but at some point, the talking turned into scheming. Katsuki comes walking up and the girl is right next to him talking away and honestly, he’s annoyed. It takes everything in him not to scream in her face. He sees you first. Then he sees Kaminari leaning against the wall next to you. At the same time, you see him first. Then the girl walking next to him. He takes note that he’s changed and cleaned up after training, you guys aren't even changed out of your hero outfits and are still all messy. The training ended an hour ago. He stops walking which the girl next to him takes as a green light to wrap her arms around his arm. Kaminari notices and quickly stands in front of you to block your line of view.

“Don’t look it’s only gonna hurt more.”

“Come to my dorm.”

“What?”

“Come to my dorm right now.” You grab his arm and drag him away aggressively. Kaminari has to stop himself from complaining your grip hurts.

ೃ⁀➷

Katsuki got up early enough to get to your dorm room. He knows this is the time you leave, he knows your exact schedule to the T. He knows your whole life and who you're close with so he’s honestly so fucking confused why you walk out of your dorm room and run up to Denki fucking Kaminari. On top of that, you hand him a bento box. His fucking Bento box. He’s stunned and stands there like a dumb ass watching as you walk away with him.

Class is giving him a headache. He just feels the need to take as many pain pills as he can. You and Denki have been joking around non-stop and it doesn't help that you sit in front of Katsuki and Denki sits in front of you. The class feels like forever. There is no training today so it is just class and he doesn't know how long he can just sit here and watch as you painfully ignore him. He concludes he’ll talk to you before lunch but that plan is quickly foiled as the girl from class 1B comes barging into the classroom like she owns the place and attaches herself to him. Katsuki watches as you stare a second before Kaminari puts an arm around your shoulder and walks you out of the room as quickly as he can. He makes a new plan that he’ll talk to you at lunch but that plan is also quickly ruined as the girl blocks him at his table so he can’t get up and go to you. So as your plan goes perfectly, he gets a perfect view of you and Kaminari sitting and having lunch together. He then makes plan number three, he’ll follow you around until he gets the perfect moment to yell at you. It’s perfect. He follows you to class with the annoying girl talking away. He sits in pain the whole rest of class as he watches you and Kaminari fool around the whole time.

ೃ⁀➷

“Why are you following me around.” You turn to look at him. You landed at your childhood park once you realized Katsuki was following you around. It’s cold and you hug yourself.

“So she speaks.”

“Don’t be an ass Bakugou. Why are you following me?” Katsuki’s stomach sinks. At least he knows how you feel now.

“Bakugou?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s wrong with me?”

‘Don’t act fucking stupid.” He takes off his jacket and gets closer to you, You take a step back. “See what I mean?! I’m trying to give you my jacket and you step away from me! What the fuck Y/N!”

“Sorry, I don’t want what another girl got.”

“What are you- oh…”

“Yeah oh! Kaminari told me I wasn't being stupid but maybe I am! Maybe I should have stopped liking you when you rejected me the first time! BUT NO!” you get closer grabbing his shirt, “You make it so fucking difficult to not be in love with you!” He stares at you and leans down, as much as you don’t want to, you push him away. “No this had gotta stop. I’m not gonna let you keep toying with me and I gotta stop being so delusional.”

“You aren't being delusional.”

“Really because that girl has gotten more attention than I have gotten from you in years. Every time I confess since we were kids you act like I didn't say anything!”

“I just wasn't ready for things to change.” you scoff at him.

“It was always going to change! Did you like dragging me along? Where did that other girl come from?” you sit down on one of the swings and kick some wood chips. Putting your hands on the chain.

“I just wanted to make sure I liked you and I wasn't just… I don't fucking know! You're the only girl who has been in my life that wasn't my mom!” you glare at him.

“Wow.”

“Listen Y/N, I know it was stupid but I just needed to know before our relationship changed and I fucked everything up.” “So what was this conclusion from your stupid fucking experiment?” Katsuki takes this as a green light to come closer to you. You don’t say anything.

“That no girl compares.”

“Wow, Romeo it took you that long?” Katsuki stands in front of you and puts his hand on top of yours. You look up at him.

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’m not confessing again.”

“I know.” He leans down and kisses you. 

[hughiecampbelle]

Malignant (Homelander Oneshot)

((TAKES PLACE IN S4E4))

Character/s: Homelander

Word Count: 1,468

Warning/s: gore, sort of all the basic warnings The Boys typically has

Requested: Hii! I’ve just found your blog, read some of your works and loveee them! Especially The Boys Preferences and imagines! May I request a platonic Homelander x reader with the prompts: Fury, Shooting Stars, “Get away from me” ? Thank youuu! - anon

A/N: Y'all when I tell you you're not ready!!! When I say I love this I mean I cannot stop smiling!!! I am Victor Frankenstein and this is my monster lol. Thank you for requesting my love! I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated!!! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Get away from me. The words come out as a whimper, barely above a whisper. His features contort: insecurity, rage, struck dumb by your reaction. Despite himself, he smiles, trying make sense of it all. This is what we’ve always wanted. They deserved it, all of them. Why can’t- why can’t you see that? He takes a step closer and you react by moving further back, through the doorway. Your shoe makes a squeaking sound. Beneath the sole something squelches, wet and gummy. You don’t have to look down to know what you’ve stepped in. It’s splattered across the walls and ceiling. The entire room painted red. Faceless, headless, limbless bodies dropped across the floor. You’ve stepped on someones intestines, their insides strewn across the floor like shooting stars. Here and there are articles of clothing, a shoe without their twin, a name tag or Vought issued ID. You don’t recognize them. Many of them new hires. They weren’t around all those years ago. They took no part in what happened to you, to either of you. Bile rises in your throat. It’s the smell that’s the worst. Metallic. You can taste the iron on your tongue. Not just that, though. The heater was still on. Though the body was ash, the stench of burned skin and hair lingers. It’s thick, and hot, and disgusting. The warmth radiates off it, seeping into the rest of the lab. It leaves you fighting your nausea, your hatred, the two churning in your stomach. Why, why are you mad at me? He’s drenched in their blood. It’s dried across his face, his suit and in his hair. How long has he been with the bodies? You killed them, John. You killed them all. 

Despite what the media portrayed, your childhood wasn’t baseball games and apple pies. There was no mother to rock you to sleep or father telling you you were a great kid. There were no little sisters to play with or teasing from big brothers. No white pickett fence or a sweet, yet obedient, dog running around. There was sterility. There were test tubes, and locked rooms, and tests. There were knives, and guns, and fire. You and him, you were invincible. They wanted to test that. They wanted to see just how far you could be pushed before you broke. Your skin was impenetrable, but that didn’t mean it didn’t burn every time they shoved you into that chamber. You’d pound your fists against the door, begging and screaming, every inch of you engulfed in flames. Sometimes it still felt like you were burning. In dreams, maybe when the weather was warm. You were just a little kid. You thought (feared) this time would be the last time. This is how you would die. Your tears evaporated before they could fall. You’d call out for them, for the pseudo father figures. When that wasn’t enough, when they refused to move from their charts and lazy game of paper ball, you’d cry for John. Your companion, your brother, your friend. He’d be enclosed in his own hell. Eventually you learned to be quiet. Eventually you learned you would survive. No one was coming to save you. No one was going to stop this. You’d watch, day in and day out, first your skin, your muscles, until the fire kissed your bones. You’d come to hours, days later, completely healed. Not a single scar carved into your flesh. No evidence except your memories. 

If you were good, if you were well behaved, you might be rewarded. Taught a new game or trick. Tic-tac-toe had been an exciting discovery at the time. You’d liked playing O’s. John liked X’s. Hangman was another. Always with a dull pencil, just in case. You’d be sniffling, hiccupping, leftover from the sobbing, when they’d sit you on the lab table and ask you to guess a letter. They weren’t the kinds of words children should have heard, but how could you have known? Psychopath. Indestructible. Malignant. You didn’t know the meanings or, for a long time, how to spell them, but you heard them a lot. They were household names. If they were feeling generous, kind, they might give you more chances: add a face, a hat, a bowtie. Through tears you’d laugh at the ridiculousness, pointing out that the hanged man could not possibly be as accessorized as they were making him to be. You never liked when the game was over. Win or lose, it always meant the same thing. One man, much older than everyone else, would lift you up and carry you back to your cell as if you were his own. You’d cling to him, his shirt, clutching tight with your chubby, dimpled hands, watching over his shoulder as someone else would discard the pieces of paper, throwing them away. You wanted to keep them, have them to laugh at the silly stick figure when it was dark and you were all alone, but you wouldn’t dare ask. If not the man, then a young woman who’d lead you back, hand in hand, full of promises you both knew she would not keep. Talk of real games, with boards and pieces and cards. But when the time came again, when you did as you were told, all you were allotted was a piece of paper and pencil. 

Her body was the first you recognized. Faceless yes, but you knew her as well as you knew yourself. Barbara. She was like a mother to you. Albeit, a terrible one. A cold, uncaring, aseptic woman who studied you, who created you, made you the person you are today. Wasn’t that all mothers? She’d hush your cries, ask why you were so upset. You didn’t have the words, the vocabulary, and so she’d grow tired. Bored. When you could articulate yourself better, then you would be worthy of her time. Truthfully, you weren’t all that sad she was dead. She must’ve known what was going on. She must’ve seen or heard something. At night, when they came into your room. When they made you promise to keep it secret. Couldn’t she tell? Couldn’t any of them? Armies of psychologists couldn’t get the truth out of you, not that they were trying to. Their alliances rest elsewhere. Fear of abandonment had been ingrained into you. You’d cry even harder, begging her not to leave, not to go. She’d pretend she had no other choice, that it was your fault. You were a crybaby. A sissy. An imbecile. If you could not pull yourself together and act like an adult, she would have no choice but to get up. Beneath the hurt was a fury, a burning, but they had you trained well. Instead you screamed, begged, throwing yourself to the floor, into walls, harming yourself for an ounce of her attention. Affection. Circles of red stained the walls where your head had been bashed. Your clothes ripped and torn. Your tantrums were spectacular. Fantastical. Eventually you’d grow tired, exhausted. Bloody, you’d sit very still and breathe and wait for her to come back. Then, and only then, would she grace you with her presence.

You hoped the bitch suffered. 

Marty rests limp, his face crushed in, a hole lasered through his groin. You knew the story, the nickname. He tried to get you to call John that peculiar name, too. Try to get you in on the joke. You never did. He had names for you, too. Just as vulgar and perverted. No one ever stopped him. No one ever said it was inappropriate. You guessed when you were being gutted, sliced from collarbones to pelvis, turned into a living autopsy, harassment wasn’t such a big deal. You stepped over his body without a second though. Footsteps to follow from his skull (what was left of it) to where John stood. This is very bad. You find your voice again, inspecting the lab around you. The cake sits melted in it’s pink box. The lights flicker. There is an unsettling silence. But I, I did it for you. His eyes are wide, his pupils dilated. His grin is hysterical. John, you start, but the rest of your sentence clatters to the floor. He watches you, desperate for your approval, your appreciation. They did terrible things to you. They let terrible things happen to you, unspeakable things. Why should you be upset? Why should you mourn them? Why should their gruesome deaths fill you with anything but satisfaction? They deserved it. They were asking for it. You slide away the mans large intestine, wiping the blood from your shoe.  Thank you, you say finally, placing your hands on his shoulders, squeezing them. He breathes out a sigh of relief. Thank you, it means a lot.

[writingforstraykids]

Always back to you - Chp.4

Pairing: Minho x m!Reader (mention of 3racha)

Word Count: 7000

Summary: Minho gets a call from his ex-wife, asking to meet Minjun. Hesitating, he agrees to the meeting but not without you by his side. You both find your way around each other as the boundaries between friendship and love dissolve more and more...

Warnings/Tags: fluff, single dad!min, angst, domestic shit, emotional hurt!comfort, panic attack,

A/N: Thank you for all the love for the story and little Minjun so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter, some of you have been waiting for what happens here hehe🖤

PART THREE | PART FIVE

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

The steady rhythmic sound of a knife chopping vegetables abruptly halts as the sharp, insistent ring of Minho’s phone pierces through the quiet kitchen atmosphere. Minho's hand stills, a sense of dread creeping up his spine as he stares at the caller ID. What? 

Minho glances out of the window quickly, seeing you and Minjun still playing peacefully outside. His eyes wander back to his phone and it takes everything in him to take it into his hand, his thumb hovering over the screen. He takes a deep breath before picking up the phone. "Hello?"

"Minho, it's Yejun," comes the voice on the other end, unmistakable and unexpectedly calm. The sound of his ex-wife's voice, not heard in conversations for years, is enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"Hi, Yejun...What's up?" Minho manages to keep his voice steady, though his grip on the phone tightens.

"I’ve been thinking. It’s been a long time, and I want to meet Minjun. I want to see our son," she says.

Minho feels as if the floor dropped from beneath him. The request comes as a shock, reopening a chapter of his life he thought had been firmly closed. He leans heavily against the kitchen counter, trying to gather his thoughts. "I...that’s quite sudden. I’m not sure that’s a good idea," he replies, the discomfort clear in his voice.

"I know it’s sudden, Minho. I just want to be a part of his life," she says.

“Mhm,” he hums sourly, feeling nothing but defensiveness bubbling up in him.

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?” she asks sharply and Minho closes his eyes, swallowing down the memories that flood his brain at that tone.

“Means I wonder what makes you think you can leave and then come back once he’s old enough to do a lot on his own,” he says, chewing on his lower lip.

“It’s my right to see him, Min,” she says.

“Don’t,” Minho says firmly. “Don’t even start claiming it’s your right to meet him. You left him once he was old enough to drink from the bottle. You have absolutely no right to demand anything.”

“Gosh, Min, still so emotional, hm?” she groans and Minho puts his phone on speaker, slamming it down on the table and mocking her quietly. Her laugh rings in his ears as she starts talking again. “I want to meet him. If he doesn’t like me, I’ll go.”

“Gosh, Yejun, still taking the easy way out, hm?” he gives back dryly, bracing himself at the table. “Why now?”

“As you said, he’s easy to handle now. I’m curious,” she says.

“Curious…If you meet him, I’m there every damn second, you hear me?” he asks, and she agrees reluctantly. “If you hurt my son in any way, I’m taking him home, and that’s the last you saw of him.”

“Relax,” she snorts. “I’ll be in Seoul next week from Monday until Friday. Let’s meet up then.”

Minho agrees hesitantly, ending the call with a heavy sigh. As soon as he puts the phone down, a wave of nausea sweeps over him, his hand flying to his stomach as if to quell the rising sickness. Pacing the kitchen, he feels his mind race with worries about the past getting back at him, about the potential destruction of Minjun’s more or less stable but happy life.

You get back inside to refill Minjun’s water bottle as he quickly uses the bathroom in the meantime. You find Minho in the kitchen, his face pale, bracing himself on the table. "Minho? What’s wrong? You look sick," you ask worriedly. “You’re feeling dizzy again?”

Hearing your voice seems to ground him momentarily. He looks up at you with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. "That was Yejun," he manages to say, his voice a whisper of distress. "She wants to meet Minjun. She says she wants to be part of his life."

Your expression shifts from concern to shock. You’ve heard of her, of course, the woman who had left Minho to raise Minjun alone and caused much of his earlier heartache when you met him. "Oh, Minho," you murmur, stepping next to him. “What are you going to do?"

"I don’t know," Minho admits, his voice shaky. "Part of me thinks maybe it’s good if Minjun knows his mother. But another part...I can’t bear the thought. What if she leaves again? What if she hurts him? I can’t let Minjun go through that."

You nod, understanding his inner conflict. "This is tough, but whatever decision you make, I’m here. You’re not alone in this, Minho."

Minho looks into your eyes, finding peace in your unwavering support. Taking a deep breath, he tries to calm his racing heart. "Can you... Can you just hold me for a minute?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly asking for that, but somehow, it feels right.

Without hesitation, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him close. Minho buries his face in your shoulder, allowing himself to feel vulnerable, to accept the comfort being offered. As they stand there, Minho feels a tiny fragment of his anxiety ebb away, the warmth and steadiness of your embrace lending him strength.

After a long moment, Minho steps back slightly. "Thank you, Y/nnie. For being here," he says, his voice thick with gratitude.

"Always," you reply, squeezing his hand.

Minho feels a little steadier, bolstered by your support. "Would you...come with me to meet her? I think I might need someone there, just in case. I uh…I don’t know how it’ll be seeing her again and everything."

"Of course, Minho. I'll be there," you reply gently.

-

The day of the meeting arrives with a tense air. Minho is quiet as you both drive to the cafe where the meeting with Yejun is scheduled. Every now and then, he glances at Minjun in the rearview mirror, who is blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation, chatting excitedly about the new game you had taught him. He seemed excited to meet his mother, which was the only reason Minho decided to let them.

As you arrive and find Yejun already there, a chill runs down Minho’s spine. She looks different, yet somehow the same, and his stomach tightens as he watches her wave them over with a bright, practiced smile. Minjun gently tugs at his jeans, as always when meeting new people. He’s glad to have something to hold onto as he picks him up and soothingly pats his back. 

You stay close to them, looking at Yejun curiously. You had never felt the need to look up old pictures of Minho and her, so you had no idea what she looked like…and looking at her makes you realize she’s stunningly beautiful. Her dark, long curls frame her perfect face, skin smooth and accentuating her bright eyes. A red dress hugs her body in all the right places, and she looks delicate but elegant. God, no wonder Minho had a hard time getting over that. Getting closer, you realize Minjun must’ve inherited the freckles covering her nose, as well as the curly texture of his hair. 

"Minho, it's been too long," Yejun greets, standing to embrace him swiftly. She presses a short kiss onto his cheek that has Minho tensing up, eyes widening. Ah, lovely.

"Yejun," he nods, taking a few steps back, then turns to you. "This is Y/nnie."

"Nice to meet you," you say, offering a polite smile, though you feel the undercurrents of tension.

“And that’s..?” she asks, glancing at Minjun.

“Oh for fucks sake,” Minho mutters quietly making Minjun giggle and cover his mouth with his little hand. 

“Bad word, Daddy!” he protests, making you smirk.

“That’s some kid I stole on the way here,” Minho rolls his eyes at her. “That’s Minjun…obviously.”

“Oh…you’ve gotten big,” she nods, looking at Minjun curiously. 

“Well he was six months old when you left, go figure,” Minho says patiently, with a fake calm smile on his face. “Minjunnie, say hi to your mother.”

Minjun frowns at her softly before looking up at Minho. “Daddy? Mum who ran away?” he asks and you have trouble biting back a laugh at her perplexed face.

“Mhm, that one,” Minho nods, pulling himself out a chair. “She wants to talk to you, so be nice, buddy.”

“Okay,” he nods, getting comfortable in his own chair, blinking at her curiously. 

The conversation starts with trivialities, Yejun asking about Minjun's interests. But soon, she shifts the topic to her life in the US, describing her home, the parks, and the schools that she says would be wonderful for Minjun once he’s old enough.

Minjun listens, wide-eyed, clearly taken with the idea of such places. "Can I see them, Daddy? Can I visit her in America?" he asks, looking excitedly between Minho and Yejun.

Minho feels a pang in his heart at the words, his fear creeping back as he watches his son’s enthusiasm. He tries to keep his voice even. "We'll see, buddy. We're just talking right now."

Yejun leans forward, her tone persuasive. "I have a great life there, Minjun. You could have your own room, a big yard to play in... I'd love to show you around."

Minho feels sick watching the scene unfold, his hands clenched under the table. You notice his discomfort and place a reassuring hand on his knee. As the meeting draws to an end, Minho is quiet, lost in thought as Yejun makes plans to visit Minjun again. "Let’s take it slow, one step at a time," Minho finally says, not committing to anything more.

On the drive back, Minjun chats happily about the things his mother had told him, while Minho remains silent, his expression drawn.

Once home, Minho retreats to the kitchen, his movements sluggish, each step seeming to weigh heavily on him. You watch as he leans against the counter, his face pale and his eyes distant. Concerned, you approach him, your hand gently touching his arm. "Minho?" you call softly, trying to get his attention.

He looks up, his eyes meeting yours, and there's an unspoken plea for comfort. The day had drained him, dredging up past pains and uncertainties about the future. "I just... I don't know if I did the right thing today," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if she convinces him? What if he wants to go with her?"

You understand the turmoil he's in. The possibility of Minjun wanting to leave with Yejun is his worst nightmare coming true. Stepping closer, you wrap your arms around him, offering him a silent reassurance. "Minho, you're an incredible father. Minjun knows that. Whatever Yejun says or does, it won't change the bond you two have."

Minho rests his forehead against your shoulder, his breath shaky. "I hope you're right," he murmurs. "It's just hard not to feel threatened, to feel like everything we have could be disrupted by her return."

"It's understandable to feel that way," you reply, holding him tighter. "But remember, Minjun loves you. He's grown up with you. That connection, those memories, they're not easily broken or forgotten. You're his dad, the one who's been there for him every single day."

As you speak, Minho's tension begins to ease. He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, searching for the certainty he so desperately needs. Seeing the sincerity in your gaze, a small smile begins to form on his lips. "Thank you, Y/nnie," he says. "For being here, for supporting me through this."

"Always," you reply, smiling back.

The kitchen is quiet for a moment, the only sound being the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Minho seems to ponder your words, letting them sink in. Gradually, the anxious lines on his face smooth out, replaced by a more resolute expression. "I won't let her take him away," he states, more to himself than to you. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Minjun with me."

"And I'll help you," you assure him. 

As the evening sets in, you and Minho prepare dinner together, the earlier tension melting away into a comfortable routine. Minjun joins you, chatting excitedly about his day, blissfully unaware of the complex emotions his father has been grappling with. Watching Minho laugh and interact with his son, you feel a profound sense of admiration and love for him. 

Later, as you sit down to eat, the atmosphere is light, filled with Minjun’s laughter and stories. Minho looks over at you, a silent gratitude in his gaze. Despite the challenges, he knows he isn't alone. With you by his side, he feels ready to handle whatever may come.

That night, after Minjun has gone to bed, you and Minho find yourselves on the couch, a comfortable silence enveloping you. Minho leans his head on your shoulder, his earlier fears now calmed by your presence and the peaceful end to the day.

"Today was hard," he admits quietly.

"It was," you agree. "But you got through it. And you’ll get through whatever else comes your way."

-

Minho stands silently in the middle of the living room, the soft hum of the evening settling around him. The faint laughter and shouts of children playing outside drifts through the open window, a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside him. His hands tremble slightly as he turns over a small toy that Minjun had left on the couch—a constant reminder of his responsibilities, his fears, and his deep-seated insecurities about being a father. Minjun is staying with Felix and Chan for a few hours and you'll visit to work through a few important aspects of his schedule. 

The weight of his thoughts and the relentless pressure he placed on himself were reaching a boiling point. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in as each of Minjun’s innocent questions from earlier that day echoed in his head, “Are you happy, Daddy? Does Yejun like me? Can I go to America?” The questions are simple, filled with the childlike curiosity of his young son, yet to Minho, they are a reflection of his deepest fears—is he truly enough?

The anxiety that had been simmering throughout the day suddenly surges, a tidal wave crashing over him with suffocating force. His breathing becomes shallow, each inhale sharp and unsatisfying. His heart races uncontrollably, pounding against his ribs as if trying to escape. The room spins, and a nauseous feeling tightens in his gut. He's having a panic attack, the intense fear of failing his son overwhelming him completely.

Just then, you walk in. You stop in track at the sight of Minho, his face pale, his body tense and trembling. Dropping your bag, you rush over. “Minho! What’s happening?” Your voice is laced with concern as you reach out to steady him, your hands gripping his arms.

“I...I can’t breathe properly,” Minho gasps out, his voice shaky. “I feel like I’m not enough for him...like I’m going to fail him.”

You quickly lead him to the sofa, helping him to sit down. “Look at me, Minho. Follow my breathing, okay? In and out, slowly,” you instruct him gently, demonstrating deep, steady breaths.

Minho tries to mimic your breathing, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. Gradually, his own breaths begin to deepen, the tight grip of fear around his chest loosening slightly with each exhale. You don't let go, your presence a calming force in the storm of his panic.

After a few minutes, as the initial wave of panic begins to subside, Minho feels exhaustion seep into his bones, replacing the adrenaline that had surged through him just moments before. He leans back against the sofa, his eyes closing briefly in fatigue.

“You’re doing great, Minho. Just keep breathing like that,” you murmur, your voice a soothing balm. “You are enough for Minjun, more than enough. You’re an incredible father.”

Tears prick at Minho’s eyes as he listens to your affirmations. “I’m scared,” he admits, his voice a broken whisper. “What if it’s not true? What if I’m not what he needs?”

You shift closer, your side pressing against his, a silent offer of solidarity. “Minho, look at everything you’ve done for him. He adores you. Your fear doesn’t define your reality. You are exactly what Minjun needs because you love him, and you show up every day for him, even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.”

The sincerity in your words, the warmth of your body next to his, it all pierces through the fog of Minho’s anxiety, reaching a part of him that he kept walled off from everyone else. He turns to look at you, really look, seeing not just a friend but someone who has come to mean so much more to him.

Without thinking, driven by the emotions swirling within him and the need to be closer to the one person who seemed to understand him completely, Minho leans in. You hesitate, leaning in a little before you both stop for me a moment. Then you meet halfway, your lips touching in a kiss that is soft and hesitant at first but quickly deepened with shared urgency and emotion. But as seconds pass, the kiss deepens, driven by a mixture of long-suppressed desires and the comforting familiarity that has grown between you over countless shared moments.

All that matters is the here and now—the warmth of your lips against his, the gentle exploration that grows bolder with each passing moment. Your hands move to cup Minho’s face, your touch tender yet assured, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss until it is all-consuming.

Minho’s hands find their way around you, pulling you in, his heart pounding against his chest. The kiss grows more desperate, a silent confession of the feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. Your breaths mingle, quick and shaky, as the kiss ignites a fire within you both, a blaze that seems to fill the voids you had both carried inside.

But as the intensity of your embrace grows, so does a creeping fear in the back of Minho’s mind. His heart, scarred from past hurts and losses, begins to recoil at the vulnerability he is exposing himself to. The memory of his past, of being left alone when he had dared to love openly, surges forward, casting a shadow over the warmth he feels.

Your hands trace the line of Minho's jaw, gentle yet insistent, pulling him closer. Minho responds in kind, his hands finding the small of your back, pressing you together. The kiss grows more fervent, more desperate, as if you're trying to communicate every unspoken word, every suppressed emotion through this single act. 

As your breath quickens, Minho’s emotions swirl chaotically—a blend of exhilaration and deep-seated fear. The intensity of your connection right here is something he hasn't allowed himself to fully experience for a long time, not since his heart had been guarded against such vulnerabilities.

Suddenly, the weight of his past, the memories of abandonment, and the fear of experiencing such profound loss again surge to the forefront of his mind. It is overwhelming the way these fears claw their way up, threatening to overshadow the warmth and safety he had just been reveling in.

With a sudden intake of breath, Minho’s hands still, and he pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss. His heart is racing, not just with the passion of the moment but also with a creeping dread that he might be setting himself up for another heartbreak. His chest heaves as he tries to steady his breathing, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he meets your concerned gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice choked with a mixture of fear and regret. “I... I need a moment.”

Your face is a mixture of worry and understanding. You reach out, brushing a trembling hand against Minho’s cheek. “It’s okay, Minho. We don’t have to rush anything. I’m here, okay?”

Minho nods, feeling a lump form in his throat. He is terrified, not of the kiss or the connection but of what it signifies. To let someone in so completely was to risk being torn apart again. And yet, as he looks into your eyes, he sees a reflection of something pure and steady—a commitment not just to the joy of their relationship but to the struggles, too.

Minho takes a deep breath, each inhale laced with the scent of your skin, a reminder of the now. “I just... I’m scared of losing myself, of losing Minjun, of being left alone again if this... if we don’t work out,” he confesses, his voice barely a whisper amidst the quiet of the room.

Your expression softens, your eyes filling with empathy. “Minho, love doesn’t come with guarantees, but not giving ourselves the chance to experience it fully is a guarantee of regret. I don’t know what the future holds, but I promise to be by your side through the highs and the lows. You’re not alone anymore, and you won’t be.”

These words, gentle and reassuring, seem to stitch up the raw edges of Minho’s fears slowly. He allows himself to lean into you, feeling the solidity of your presence. “Thank you,” he murmurs, allowing himself to feel the full extent of his vulnerability.

“Thank you for not running,” you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. The tension begins to dissipate, replaced by a cautious hope.

“Thank you for staying,” Minho shakes his head gently. 

You smile, your hand squeezing Minho’s. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you assure him. You lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to Minho’s forehead, a simple gesture that holds a depth of meaning.

Minho allows himself to be held, his head resting against your shoulder, feeling the steady beat of your heart against his cheek. It is comforting, grounding. Slowly, his breathing evens out, the immediate panic subsiding under the gentle rhythm of your assurances.

“You mean a lot to me, Y/nnie,” Minho confesses, pulling back slightly to look at you. “I don’t want to lose you, not because of my fears.”

You smile, your hands sliding down to grasp his. “And you won’t lose me. I care about you, Minho. We’ll face this together, okay? Step by step.”

“Okay,” Minho agrees, squeezing your hands. “Step by step.”

The moment is tender, a delicate truce between Minho’s fears and the possibilities that lie ahead. You stay like that for a while, simply holding each other, finding comfort in the presence of one another.

When it is time for you to leave, Minho finds himself not wanting to let go. The goodbye is lingering, filled with the promise of soon and more. You leave him with a smile, and Minho watches from the doorway, feeling a mixture of contentment and longing.

That night, as Minho lies in bed, Minjun peacefully asleep next to him, he thinks about the kiss - the way it had made him feel alive, the way it had scared him. He touches his lips, still feeling the ghost of your touch. The fear is still there, a quiet whisper in the back of his mind, but it is slowly being overshadowed by a stronger, more insistent feeling: hope.

He knows the road ahead will be fraught with challenges, but for the first time in a long while, Minho feels ready to face them. With you by his side, he isn't just facing the future; he is stepping into it, one kiss, one conversation, one promise at a time.

-

Minho nervously ties Minjun’s shoelaces, hoping his attentive little boy can’t see the anxiety written all over his face. He gently takes Minjun’s small hands into his and searches his eyes. “Minjunnie?” he asks softly.

“What, Daddy?” his son asks curiously.

“Daddy loves you a lot, okay?” he asks, and Minjun nods contently. “I’m sorry I can’t always be there, I’ll try to get better.”

“It’s okay,” he says, gently patting his father’s head.

Minho giggles at him and pulls him into his lap. “I will always love you, okay? No matter what happens.”

“Always?” he asks softly, and Minho nods firmly. “Always come back?”

Minho cups his face, smiling at him encouragingly. “I’ll always come back to you, buddy.”

“Good,” he smiles brightly. “Yejun now?” he asks, and Minho nods.

“Yeah,” he says, almost feeling a little ashamed for being so relieved about Minjun not calling her his mother.

You open the door, glancing inside. “You two are ready to go?” you ask. “I’ll drop you off at the café, make sure everything’s in place at the location for the shoot, and then come back. I won’t be gone longer than ten minutes, it’s on the other side of the road.”

“Sounds good,” Minho nods, subconsciously chewing on his lower lip. He pushes himself back up and meeting your eyes, you can tell he needs a hug. 

“Come here,” you say gently, opening your arms for him. Minho laughs weakly and hugs you tightly, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. “It’ll be okay,” you tell him, earning a timid hum in return. 

“Daddy?” Minjun frowns up at you two worriedly. 

Minho leaves your warm embrace, picking him up. “I’m okay,” he assures him, his one hand finding yours. Your fingers intertwine almost naturally, and you can feel his hand tremble in yours a little. 

“Liar,” Minjun says softly, not even sounding like he’s judging him for it.

Minho chuckles weakly and searches your eyes. “Minjunnie? You really like Y/nnie, right?” he asks, watching you with a gentle smile.

“No,” he shakes his head, making your heart sink for a moment. “I love Y/nnie, Daddy.”

You both laugh softly, and you gently poke his cheek. “I love you too, Minjunnie…and I care a lot about your Daddy too.”

“I…I love Y/nnie too,” Minho says quietly, and your world stops turning for a few seconds. 

“What?” you ask just as quietly, swallowing hard as tears brim Minho’s soft chocolate eyes. 

“I love you, Y/nnie,” he tells you again, a little less shaky this time. “I do,” he says as if he has to reassure you both he put it into words.

“I love you too, Minho,” you whisper happily, your heart warming. Minho squeezes your hand, searching your eyes timidly. You don’t think much, closing the distance between you two and kissing him softly. Minho sighs quietly, feeling at ease here in the moment of kissing you.

Minjun squeals making you break apart again. “Eww, but yay,” he says with wide eyes, making you giggle.

“Okay, let's go,” you laugh and gently shove Minho out of the room. 

You drive them to the café and Minho shares another quick kiss with you before getting out. You quickly cross the street to check the set, hoping it won't take long. 

-

The tension in the air is thick as Yejun sits across from Minho at a small, brightly lit café in the heart of Seoul. The noise of the bustling city outside does little to fill the silence that hangs between them. Minho watches her observantly as she tries to talk to Minjun, who’s busy coloring in the book she gifted him earlier.

"Minjun, you would love it in America," Yejun begins, her voice infused with excitement. "We have huge parks, and there are so many fun things you can do. There's Disneyland, with all the rides and characters you love."

Minjun's eyes light up at the mention of Disneyland, but his smile falters as he glances sideways at Minho, who sits silently, his expression unreadable. "Can Daddy come with us?" Minjun asks innocently, his voice tinged with hope.

Yejun’s smile tightens slightly. "No, it would just be you and me. But think of all the adventures we’ll have!"

Minjun’s face falls. "But I want Daddy...and Y/nnie," he ads, his small voice growing firmer. "I want them."

Yejun’s patience began to crumble. "Minjun, I’m your mother. I have a wonderful life set up for us in America. You need to think about what I’m offering you."

Minho, who has been quietly observing the exchange, sees the confusion and distress growing on Minjun’s face. "Yejun, that's enough," he interjects calmly. "You’re overwhelming him. He’s only a child."

Yejun turns her gaze to Minho, her eyes flashing with irritation. "You have no right to keep him from me, Minho! You’ve turned him against me, huh? You stole my son!"

The accusation stings, and Minho’s voice grows stern. "Yejun, I haven’t stolen anyone. I’ve been here for Minjun every single day since he was born. He’s my son too, and I have been his only parent for years."

“Well, I’m his mother and-”

Tears well up in Minjun's eyes as the tension rises. He can tell his father is upset and trying not to show it, he may be young but he knows him well. The woman opposite him glares at him and he doesn’t like that at all. "You're not my mum, Y/nnie is!" he cries out, the emotional toll of the conversation beginning to show. "Y/nnie plays with me. Y/nnie makes me food. Y/nnie cuddles me!"

Yejun blinks, her face contorted with a mix of shock and disgust. "Y/nnie? That babysitter? You think he's a better mother than me?”

“Yes,” he says stubbornly, staring down at his coloring book again.

“Minho, what the fuck have you done with this child?” she asks frustratedly.

Minho reaches out, taking Minjun’s hand in his, providing a comforting touch. "Y/nnie has been here for him. What Minjun is trying to say is that family isn’t just about blood; it’s about who cares for you, who’s there for you."

Yejun’s anger flares, and she stands abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. "He is my son, and you’ve turned him into this...this weak, dependent child clinging to a man who has no business raising him!"

Minjun’s tears spill over, and he buries his face in Minho’s side, sobbing. Minho wraps his arms around his son protectively. "He is not weak. He’s a child, Yejun. And you’re upsetting him."

“I can’t believe you’re letting his babysitter take my role!” she protests loudly.

“That babysitter is my boyfriend,” Minho says firmly. Technically, the two of you aren't there yet but he couldn't care less right now. “So you better watch your mouth now.”

“Really? Dating a man?” she scoffs. “Did I break your heart so much you’re too scared to face another woman?” she spits out.

“What?” Minho almost chokes on his breath.

“You’re stupid,” Minjun states, pouting at her through tears. He doesn’t like how she’s talking about the two most important people in his life. “Daddy loves Y/nnie. Not you.”

“You’re coming with me now, if you like it or not!” she says firmly, reaching out for him.

"Don’t touch him," you snap, your voice icy as you move to block her path. "You need to leave, Yejun. You’re only causing him distress." You can’t believe what you got back to here.

Yejun stares at you, her anger boiling over. "He’s my son, not yours! You have no right—"

"He's not your son!" Minho interrupts firmly, standing up to face her, his voice echoing in the small space. "Not if you can’t see the damage you’re doing right now. Minjun has made his choice!"

“Not my mummy,” Minjun agrees. Still clinging to Minho, he peeks out and yells in his small, fierce voice, "Go away! I don’t want you! I want Daddy and Y/nnie!"

The raw honesty in Minjun’s voice seems to hit Yejun hard. For a moment, her resolve wavers, her features softening as she looks at her son. But the bitterness and resentment are too deep, her expression hardening once again.

“You’re disgusting,” she says toward Minho who stares at her quietly. “One day, he’ll leave you just like he left me,” she tells Minjun, who whimpers, clinging to him. 

“You’re such a bitch,” you tell her and stare her down until she storms off. “You forgot your stuff!” you call out for her and she spins around, stomping back to get it. 

“Fuck you.” With that, she turns sharply and storms out of the café, leaving behind a heavy silence. 

Minho kneels down, wiping the tears from Minjun’s cheeks. "It’s okay, buddy. She’s gone now. You’re safe," he murmurs, his voice soothing.

Minjun sniffles, nodding as he leans into Minho’s embrace. "Stay with me, Daddy. Stay with Y/nnie."

"We will, Minjun. We’re not going anywhere," Minho reassures him. “Always back to you, remember my sweet boy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” he nods bravely.

-

Back at the company Minho walks straight to Chan's studio, telling you to go and get some snacks with Minjun first. He closes the door behind himself and starts cursing as soon as it clicks shut. “I swear that woman is insane! I don't know what the fuck I saw in her but it's gone!”

Chan slowly pulls off his headphones and Jisung clicks his pen, blinking at Minho worriedly. “Mate, what happened?” Chan asks gently. 

“Yejun happened!” Minho snaps. “She just tried to pull Minjun away from me so he'd go with her! She called him a weak, clingy child for wanting to stay with me!” 

“Okay, take a deep breath,” Chan says soothingly. 

“I don't feel like taking a deep breath right now,” he says fuming with anger. 

Changbin picks up a pillow and throws it at him. “Scream into that for a moment. Let it all out. You haven't told us much but I suspect Minjun needs his father to be calm now.” Minho blinks at them stunned before doing as they say, his scream getting muffled by the pillow. “Better?”

“A little,” he nods, making them all laugh. Minho flops down onto the sofa between Changbin and Jisung, huffing softly. Then he tells them about everything that happened, all of them growing quiet, exchanging shocked glances. 

“Not to be that type of person but..I never liked her,” Jisung snorts and Minho hums agreeingly. 

“I know…but I wouldn't want to miss the time I had with her. I'd miss my little boy,” he sighs and rubs his face. 

“If she starts causing trouble you let me know, alright?” Chan asks. “Everyone of us can tell whoever needs to know that you've always been there for him and raised him well so far.”

“Thanks, hyung,” he smiles gently, looking up as the door opens and you and Minjun enter the room. Minjun runs up to everyone handing them their favorite snack and smiles proudly at the many encouragement he gets. Minho scoots over and pats the space next to himself, gently tapping your hand to make you sit. 

“Can I talk to you for a second?” you ask and Minho nods, getting up quickly. 

As soon as you leave the room Minjun climbs into Chan's lap and nibbles on his chocolate. “Exciting day?” Chan asks gently. 

“No. Yejun’s a bitch,” he announces dryly. Chan bites back a laugh and Jisung nods proudly. 

“Woah, that's a strong word,” Changbin laughs. “Did your daddy teach you that?”

“No, Y/nnie,” he tells them. 

“You like staying with your daddy more, right?” Chan asks amused. 

“And Y/nnie,” he nods happily. “Y/nnie and Daddy.”

“Yeah? Y/nnie stays with you a lot,” Jisung agrees. 

“Daddy loves Y/nnie.”

“Loves?” he asks curiously. 

Minjun nods and leans up to Chan, kissing his cheek. “They did that.”

Chan giggles, exchanging a glance with his friends. “They kissed?” he asks curiously. 

“Mhm,” he nods and continues munching his chocolate. “But not there,” he says, pointing at Chan's cheek. 

“No?” Chan asks stunned. 

“No. Like uncle Lix and you,” he announces making the whole room go silent. 

“You mean here?” Chan asks, pointing at his lips. 

“Yes,” Minjun nods. “Y/nnie is my new mum.”

“That's so cute,” Jisung whispers, smiling at him adoringly. 

The door opens and you two are back from your short talk about everything that happened. You sense something's off, judging by the way the three are glancing from Minho to you and back again. “Minjunnie, are you ready to go home?” you ask him. “Daddy has to work but he'll come later.”

“Work?” Minjun asks heartbreakingly timid. 

“I'm sorry, baby,” Minho tries, swallowing hard as Minjun climbs off Chan's lap and walks over to him, his small face scrunching up. Minho scoops him up, hugging him tightly. "I'll be back before you know it, okay? And Y/nnie will be with you," he reassures, glancing over at you with a grateful smile.

Minjun seems somewhat calmed by this, nestling his head against Minho's shoulder. "Promise?" he mumbles, his voice muffled.

"I promise, buddy," Minho affirms, pressing a kiss to his son's hair.

You can't help but feel a pang of warmth at the scene, your heart swelling at the depth of their bond. As you prepare to leave with Minjun, Minho sets him down, adjusting his little backpack and smoothing down his hair.

"Be good for Y/nnie, okay?" Minho instructs, kneeling to be eye level with Minjun.

"I will," Minjun nods solemnly, then looks up at you with those big, trusting eyes. "Let's go, Y/nnie."

As you lead Minjun out of the studio, his hand in yours, you glance back to see Minho watching you both, a mix of love and a tinge of sorrow in his eyes. It's clear how torn he feels, the duties of his work pulling him away from moments he cherishes with his son.

Back at Minho’s house, the evening unfolds with a quiet kind of normalcy. Minjun plays with his toys in the living room, occasionally chatting about things he remembers from the day or asking questions about what tomorrow might bring. You keep your answers light and reassuring, mindful of the emotional turmoil he’s endured.

Later, while Minjun is absorbed in a cartoon, you step into the kitchen to prepare a simple dinner, your thoughts wandering back to Minho. The way he had leaned into your kiss, the vulnerability he showed—it all painted a picture of a man deeply in love but equally scared of the implications. Your heart aches for him, wishing there was more you could do to ease his fears.

As you set the table, Minjun comes running into the kitchen, his earlier worries seemingly forgotten in the wake of his current excitement about the cartoon.

"Y/nnie, did you see? The superhero saved everyone!" he exclaims, his eyes sparkling.

"I saw that, buddy. It was pretty cool, wasn’t it?" you smile, lifting him onto a chair.

"Yeah! I wanna be like that," Minjun declares, his chest puffing out proudly.

"I think you're already a hero, Minjun. You know that?" you say, ruffling his hair.

He giggles, beaming up at you. "Really?"

"Really," you affirm, serving him his dinner.

Dinner passes with playful chatter, and soon it's time for Minjun's bedtime. As you tuck him into bed, he hugs his beloved bunny. 

"Daddy comes home soon?" Minjun’s voice is small, tinged with the weight of his earlier tears.

"He promised, didn’t he? And your daddy always keeps his promises," you reassure him, smoothing down the blanket. “Did you know your daddy's animal of the group is a bunny?”

Minjun nods proudly. “Yes.”

“There are plushies of his bunny, just like yours here. Would you like one?” you ask gently and Minjun nods with wide eyes. “Then you can cuddle it if he's not here.”

Minjun nods contently, curling up with the plushie. "Night, Y/nnie."

"Goodnight, Minjun. Sweet dreams," you whisper, turning off the light and leaving the door slightly ajar.

Once Minjun is asleep, you sink onto the couch, the quiet of the house settling around you. You're startled by the sound of the front door opening—Minho is home.

He looks exhausted, the lines of his face deeper, his eyes shadowed. But when he sees you, a smile, tired yet genuine, crosses his lips.

"Hey," he greets softly, dropping his keys into the bowl by the door.

"Hey," you reply, standing to meet him. "Rough day?"

"You could say that," Minho sighs, pulling you into a hug. It's a long, tight embrace, one that speaks volumes.

As you pull back, you hold his gaze. "Talk to me," you encourage.3

Minho shakes his head slightly, a weary chuckle escaping him. "Just the usual chaos. But coming back to this—coming back to you—it helps more than you might think."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the simplicity of his statement underscoring the depth of your growing bond. "I'm glad," you murmur, your hands resting on his arms.

"We didn't get much time earlier... to talk about... us," Minho hesitates, searching your face for signs of what you might be feeling.

"No, we didn’t," you agree, feeling the momentous weight of the conversation that looms between you. "But we’re here now. We can talk."

Minho nods, taking a deep breath. "I meant what I said earlier, before everything with Yejun. I love you, Y/nnie. I know it’s complicated, and I know my life is... a lot. But I want you in it, in every way."

The earnestness in his voice, the open vulnerability—he’s offering you his heart, and it’s yours to take. You smile, your decision clear. "I love you too, Minho. And I’m in this. All of it, with you," you say.

The relief that washes over Minho's face is evident. He pulls you close again, his lips finding yours in a kiss that seals the promise of a future together, come what may. In that moment, wrapped up in each other, the challenges that lie ahead seem manageable. With love as your anchor, you both feel ready to face whatever comes next, together.

PART THREE | PART FIVE

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

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[pollymorgan]

Teacher Negan - The Football Game - Part 1

Warnings: A very large age difference and of course, smut

Oh, and very important: It's all fiction of course! Please, my dears, use condoms and don't go with old men! :-P

That my mother has to move several hundred miles away with my aunt to open a beauty salon, especially before the last year of my high school, was initially a big shock for me, but now I also see the advantages it brings. First of all, I finally get out of my little town, and there's also the immediate proximity to my cousin. Cassady is 5 years older than me, to be exact 23, but we have always gotten along great. Another advantage is that I no longer have to see my ex-boyfriend every day, since we are no longer in the same class. Plus, I still have almost the entire summer vacation ahead of me to enjoy life to the fullest, like now at this football game. If I were to say I love football, that would be an understatement, because it feels like every American does. For me, it's an absolute dream to live in the city of my favorite team. That's why I'm wearing the appropriate hoodie over my dress and, of course, the matching cap at the game.

The atmosphere in the stadium is absolutely insane and totally captivating. Even if my cousin doesn't really see it that way and only came along because of me.

Now we just have to push through a horde of men to get to our seats. And then hopefully it will start soon. Even though the game will really become secondary. Because the atmosphere alone is reason enough to be here.

Getting to our seats, however, proves to be more difficult than expected. We each have two large beer cups in hand and somehow have to get through this crowd. But the line at the drinks stand was huge, and I didn't want to spend the start of the game waiting in line. So we planned ahead. I almost managed to get to my seat unscathed, when suddenly this guy turns around in a flash. Everything happens so quickly that I can't react anymore, and so I spill half of the beer on him and myself. The tall stranger initially looks at me very angrily and is about to scold me, but then his look suddenly changes as his dark eyes meet mine.

"What the hell.. oh, sorry.. I didn't mean to spill your drink, ...can I offer you a new one? Of course, only if you're already 21.." He starts to grin, and his perfectly white row of teeth shines through his silver-black beard.

I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation and look bewildered at the large wet spot on his black shirt under his dark jacket. Guys my age are never dressed so well. Only maybe for a funeral or a prom, and I've never been to either.

"I'm already 22.." I say somewhat defiantly, and according to my fake ID, that wouldn't even be a lie.

"Perfect.." he concludes.

He turns around to hand me a full beer from the drinks available behind him. I take it gratefully, and finally my cousin and I can sit down exhausted in our seats.

Immediately she whispers excitedly in my ear, "Did you see how that guy looked at you? He's at least twice as old as you and basically undressed you with his eyes .. pretty cringe..".

I look at her innocently, "Cringe? I actually find him quite cute!"

"Cute?" she asks in surprise, rolling her eyes.

The stranger sits down in the seat right next to me and toasts us.

"Thanks," I say again.

"No problem, pleasure to meet you, i’m Negan!"

"Sam.." I stammer somewhat clumsily.

Then everyone turns back to their groups. After a while, I'm engrossed in conversation with my cousin again, but the guy next to me has put on such an intense cologne that it lingers in my nose the whole time. It smells so ruggedly masculine that it almost drives me crazy. Whenever I have the chance, I shyly glance to the right, but he doesn't look at me anymore. I'm strangely disappointed, so I try to push that thought aside.

The game is running fantastically. My team is winning, which makes me so euphoric that I even infect my cousin with it.

After the game, as we're getting ready to leave, someone roughly grabs my arm. I startle briefly, then look back into the dark eyes that send a pleasant tingling sensation through my entire body.

"Do you and your friend maybe want to come with us to a bar to celebrate the victory a bit?" he asks with a deep tone, and I feel my stomach vibrating at his words.

Suddenly, my cousin's voice snaps me out of my trance. "No, sorry, we have to get up early..".

I look at her puzzled.

"Um, actually... apologize for us for a moment!".

The stranger seems to be thoroughly amused by this situation.

I turn to her and whisper in her ear, "That sounds fun... come on, let's go with them!"

"With these guys?!" she says a bit too loudly.

Startled, I turn around, but he is engrossed in a conversation again and apparently, thankfully, hasn't noticed. After a seemingly endless discussion, we agree that I will go to the bar with them without her. But only with the promise to be reachable on the phone at all times.

Reluctantly, Cassady bids me goodbye with a hug and whispers in my ear, "Take care of yourself... and don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Since my cousin has quite a bit of a checkered past, I don't even feel guilty promising her that.

When I agree to go with them, the stranger firmly takes my hand to guide me through the crowd out of the stadium. I'm initially a bit shocked by this strange situation, but fearing to lose him among the crowd, I interlock my fingers tightly with his and let him lead me out of the stadium.

The three of us, along with another man, take a seat on the backseat of a large black Audi. The men in the car are engaged in lively conversation about the game. Fortunately, I understand quite a bit about football and can engage in some discussion without sounding dumb, even though everyone else present is probably 30 years older than me.

After a short ride, we park in front of a small bar.

As we enter, the smell of smoke and alcohol greets me. The men take a seat at a round table, and I excuse myself for a moment to go to the bathroom.

There, I take off my sweater and am quite glad that I'm wearing a short black dress underneath. I take off my cap and let my hair down, then adjust it and try to fix my makeup a bit. I take a deep breath a few more times, looking at myself in the mirror. Then I go back, determined. But the table is empty. Startled, I look around, a thousand thoughts racing through my head.

But then I hear someone call out, "Here we are!" The voice comes from the billiard table. Relieved, I see Negan sitting on a sofa in front of the others. I walk purposefully towards them.

Two are already playing, and the clattering of the balls drowns out the conversations in the entire bar.

Since the couch is already occupied, I take a seat on the armrest next to Negan. He unabashedly looks me up and down and then offers me a beer.

"You look damn good..." he says directly, making my heart skip a beat and my cheeks blush.

After the men finish their game, I challenge him. He accepts with a smile, probably not expecting that I practically grew up at the billiard table. As he takes his first shots, he realizes it's not as easy as he thought, which pleases me.

Watching him concentrate more on the game makes me proud, and he looks even better doing it. As he leans closer to make his next move, he unexpectedly gives me a rather strong pat on the backside.

"Hey, unfair move!" I protest immediately, which only elicits a tired smile from him, but sends a strong tingle down in my lower abdomen.

But I manage to win against him, albeit very narrowly, which clearly annoys him. Afterwards, he has to endure some teasing from his buddies. Resignedly, he sits back on the sofa, and I proudly perch on the armrest again.

During the next round with his friends, we engage in animated discussions about their gameplay and continue drinking our beer. After a while, Negan starts touching my bare shin. At first, he just places his warm hand there, but then he starts stroking it slowly. The touches of his large rough hands are so gentle that they give me goosebumps. I enjoy this feeling and what it does to me to the fullest. I'm disappointed when he lets go of my leg, but only to offer me a vodka shot that the waitress had placed on a large tray in front of us. The drink is much needed, as my mouth feels incredibly dry.

We clink glasses, and I down the shot in one go. The sharp alcohol burns in my throat and then warms my stomach, shooting straight to my head. I can tell that Negan is watching my every move closely.

As soon as I place the empty glass back on the table, he puts his hand on my thigh.

"You look so damn sexy drinking it all in one go, do you like swallowing other things too?" he whispers unabashedly.

I almost slap him out of reflex, but as I look into his grinning face and his lustful eyes meet mine, my whole lower abdomen tightens, and I can't help but smirk. We gaze at each other for a while, and then I decisively say, "Why don't you find out.."

Without warning, he pulls me onto his lap, and before I know it, I'm straddling him, and he immediately starts kissing me. His lips are incredibly demanding. I place my hands on his cheeks to try to control the situation somewhat, while I completely forget everything around me and simply ignore the stupid comments from others.

His fingers trail down my back purposefully, immediately gripping my buttocks tightly. Then he presses me firmly against his pelvis. Excited, I breathe against his open mouth as I feel his penis getting harder and pressing strongly against me.

Sensing my hesitation, he whispers softly, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing.. it's just pretty big.." I grin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He smiles contentedly and presses me against him again, then gently kisses the sensitive skin on my neck and says in my ear, "Oh, don't worry, pretty princess, I'll order a taxi for us now, and then we'll go to my place where I'll pamper you so much that your little pussy will get nice and wet for me, and then my big, hard cock can slide into you slowly and effortlessly. How does that sound?"

His deep voice and direct manner drive me crazy. I nod decisively and kiss him again. I then take his right hand off my butt and guide it under my dress, directly between my legs.

"I'm already so wet for you, feel it!" I reply somewhat shyly.

His fingers deftly shift my panties aside, while his eyes scan my face precisely, enjoying every reaction from me. Slowly, he skillfully glides his middle finger through my cleft, causing me to involuntarily flinch.

"You're such a naughty sweet girl!" he remarks amusedly, as his finger leaves my most intimate place again, moistening my lips with my wetness. He then kisses me again, passionately sucking my taste from my lips. "You taste incredibly good.." he says contentedly.

[innorogers]

Lucid

Steve Rogers x Dark Past Reader (You)

Summary: Steve finds out about your past. You're nothing as he thought you were. You are better.

Warning: Steve struggling / Past revelations / You don't have to read this: Chapter 1 - Insomnia, but it would enhance the experience if you did.

What do you do the night you meet the love of your life? You spend it with to him—talking, hugging, kissing, teetering on the edge of going further... but it doesn’t matter, because one day, you won’t recall the specifics. Years from now, future you will think back to this night and remember only the magic you felt, the moments your heart skipped a beat, and the wonder of it all.

In the present, as the first rays of sunlight rise from the east and touch your face, you can barely keep your eyes open, almost drifting off against Steve’s shoulder. Once he finds out you’ve just come off a 13-hour shift, he insists on walking you to your dorm. And though it seems to take every ounce of his willpower, he refuses your unspoken invitation to stay. Ever the gentleman.

After a shift that handed you five hours of overtime, you managed to get immediate compensation—and even figured out how to maximize your sleep: you'll shower later.

So, after Steve kisses you goodbye for the sixth time, you finally close the door and collapse into your pillow. Though, to be honest, you’d rather be falling asleep on his chest.

Captain America, on the other hand, was more awake than ever. The last time he felt this energized was when they thawed him from his popsicle state. It was like walking in sunlight, and he half-expected some cheesy background music to play as he moved through the halls.

But, as always, fate was waiting in the corner to throw a punch and kick his perfectly peach shaped ass.

You were still on his mind when he stepped into the Level 0 – Avengers Only common room. You hadn’t left his thoughts since he said goodbye to you... thirty minutes ago.

To his surprise, Natasha was already there – she was never up before 11 – typing something into a computer - she was also never on top of her paperwork -.

“Oh wow, this is rare.” Steve was in a mood—no, actually, "mood" wasn’t the right word. He was still wonderstruck, wrapped up in his own bubble of happiness because of meeting you. 

“Haha, hilarious,” Natasha deadpanned without even glancing up. “Go ahead and laugh now, Rogers. One day, that ‘I’m from the 40s, I don’t know this shit’ lame excuse is not gonna to fly anymore, and you’ll actually have to do some of this.”

“Well... by then, hopefully our genius philanthropist will have invented something to take this torture off our hands,” Steve replied, handing her a cup of coffee.

Now he had her attention.

“Someone’s in a good mood…” She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Alright, spill.”

“Oh no, not a chance,” Steve shook his head, grinning. “Not happening.”

But after a pause, he added, “Hey, we have full access to everyone’s records here, right?”

“Yeah, Level 0 clearance,” Natasha replied, still focused on her typing. “You’ve got everything on your phone. Why?”

Steve glanced at your name in his phone and tried to sound casual. “What do you know about an engineer?” He wasn’t entirely sure if that was your title—you had mentioned it, but he had only been paying attention to the important stuff (like your favorite ice cream, song, hobbies, and what you wanted to do this Saturday night…).

“You’ll need to be more specific. I need an ID or at least a last name.”

“Illithya Lancaster,” he said softly, almost smiling as your name left his lips.

“Oh yeah,” Natasha responded immediately, “the one that goes by ‘Twelve,’ right?”

That got Steve’s full attention. He sat up straight, frowning. “‘Twelve’? Is that a nickname?”

“Code Name 12. Subject ID HE0012.” Natasha continued typing as though she were battling something. “You know what that means.”

“No.” Steve’s voice turned rigid. “I don’t.”

The typing finally stopped, and Natasha swiveled around in her chair to face him. “H for Hydra, E for experiment, number 12. She was one of Hydra’s experiments, Steve.”

That was a bucket of ice water he hadn’t expected. Right to the spine. Steve took a few seconds to find his voice.

“What?”

“There.” Natasha handed him an iPad with all the information: “See, here she is. Um… mission rescue R804, Siberia… Sokovia… yeah, she’s on Hydra's top confidential list, one of the few we’ve got. Stark moved mountains to save her from rotting in a federal prison for eternity.” She spoke quickly as she read, her voice unusually soft, full of compassion.

Steve paused for a moment, trying to recall if you’d mentioned anything about a nickname last night, but he didn’t think you had.

He could barely think. His voice, distant and faint, whispered: “‘Twelve’? What… happened to the other eleven?”

Swiping the iPad, Natasha didn’t even look up, just shrugged: “What do you think?” She didn’t notice Steve’s face go pale instantly. 

“Illithya was the only survivor, barely. Used and discarded as anything Hydra could imagine… like something disposable.” 

She sighed. “I’ve seen awful things, but this is one of the files I try to forget.”

Steve’s mind was in turmoil. He couldn’t think, and the pain in his chest seemed to crush every fiber of his being.

He couldn’t believe it. You, his treasured little secret, his enchanted, magical midsummer night, this beautiful, pure soulmate he’d fallen with—the one who told him a fairy would bring him all the stars—had been used, abused, treated like a guinea pig, nothing more than a lab rat?

He was beginning to understand the emotions rising within every cell of his body: a mix of uncontrollable anger, sadness, and fear.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice wavered slightly: “...How… how long was she experimented on?”

Natasha set the file aside and looked him straight in the eye. There was empathy there. She knew Steve was shaken, so she softened her voice as much as she could, though her words remained honest.

“‘Till we got her? A lifetime. She was born and raised in captivity. Her entire existence was based on an experiment.”

Steve closed his eyes. It was more than he could bear. The pain he felt intensified with every word Nat spoke. 

He clenched his fists, veins bulging with rage. How could they. 

“How did you rescue her?” He found himself asking in a calm voice, as if inquiring about any other case.

“We didn’t. She escaped, and we found her. After you and Tony split in Siberia.” Nat pulled up the file again on the tablet and handed it to him, but Steve didn’t look. He wasn’t ready.

“So, until she got away…” Steve heard his voice, sounding unnervingly emotionless, and he hated it. “Was she under Hydra’s control her entire life?”

Black Widow didn’t respond at first. She nodded, just barely, while watching him. She was using the spy stare, reading everything beneath the surface, interpreting every unspoken word, every pause, every silence was a puzzle piece for her to figure out the entire picture.

“A lifetime under Hydra…” Steve whispered.

And he felt awful for saying it.

But there it was, a poisoned seed growing in the shadows of his mind. Steve wanted to bury it deep, but he couldn’t stop. 

The doubt crept in, spreading like a toxin—the thought that everything you’d been through had changed you.

How could you ever purge Hydra’s venom from your veins? Was it still there, lurking in every dormant cell, slowly expanding like a plague, consuming all the good, the magic, the purity in you? Corrupting you?

“Stop,” Natasha suddenly said.

She gave him a look Steve recognized—she was about to ask something that would make him think, really think.

After a deep breath, she spoke: “If you’re asking about her, it’s because you’ve met her, right? So, what do you think? Did she seem like a…villain? Or was she different? Special, maybe?”

Steve leaned back into the chair at her words, the memory of you filling his mind again, your innocence, your weird yet adorable responses, your naivety, your smile…You.

The touch of your hand, the softness of your voice, the pureness of your soul. The way you’d clung to him, spoke to him, trusted him, kissed him. He exhaled slowly, a ghost smile on his face. 

“No. I never thought of her as a villain. Or as any…negative. She was different, more than different. She was…she is…incredible…she’s wonderful…she’s…” Perfect.

Natasha remained in silence. Staring at him. Then she leaned up, her words like splashed ripples on the spring's surface. “Why do you trust Barnes, Steve?”

Her tone was calm and serene, yet it made Steve clench his fists. The question was unexpected, but not unanticipated—he knew she’d ask; she always pushed when she had that look.

“He was, or is, more Hydra than anyone we’ve ever rescued from those hellholes, yet you risked everything to save him.”

“That’s different. I know Bucky, he’s all I have left of my past. And he was brainwashed.” You weren’t. You acted, and you act by choice… don’t you? Steve panicked at the thought. Everything you did, you did with your heart… right? Everything that happened last night, was true…Right?

“So if she wasn’t brainwashed, she’s guilty?” A slight ironic smile tugged at Nat’s lips. “Even though she never asked to be born into a Hydra experiment, or to live in captivity. Is she at fault, Steve? For not trying hard enough to escape?”

Steve froze at her words, realizing what she was getting at. You weren’t brainwashed, no, much worse, you’d grown up knowing nothing of life outside Hydra. You weren’t just a victim. No. He thought of you. You were a survivor. A fighter.

“That sounded a bit protective.” Steve looked at his fellow Avenger, studying her expression. “Was it just a rescue mission, Nat? You don’t usually…attach to people.”

Letting out a laugh, Natasha returned to her usual mysterious, lazy smile. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.” 

She hesitated but finally spoke under Steve’s gaze: “She’s… different, Steve.”

A slight, warm smile crossed Black Widow’s face. 

“She’s kind…and good. I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s innocent. Her heart… it’s pure.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Nat’s words. He could hear the awe in her voice, and it made him think of you: The way you’d looked at him, the sparkle in your eyes. Tiny butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he remembered the way you’d laughed and how they took flight when he kissed you.

Without even realizing it, his voice became as tender as it could be: “Yes. She is all those things.”

“Like I said.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, her fingers returning to the keyboard. “I’ll let you find out for yourself.”

LAB 278—it had taken some time to find.

Steve silently thanked Jarvis for lighting the way as he stepped into your lab—your private, secluded lab, hidden almost a 20-minute walk from the central facilities. Steve hadn’t even known this place existed on campus.

He pushed open the door and saw you through the thick glass. He couldn’t help but marvel as he took in the entire space. Your lab looked like a greenhouse, with plants everywhere—on the desk, under the tables, on the floor, shelves, and windows. Long curtains of leaves hung down from the ceiling like rain falling through broken glass. 

Large screens dominated the room, and then Steve’s eyes widened at what he saw next. 

An armory. Their. Armory. 

A bow being analyzed by lasers, prototypes of metal gauntlets, shattered helmets, and torn suits.

And then, he saw you.

You were cleaning his shield.

Everything fell into silence when his gaze rested on you. The whole place became a quiet green ocean, so still that Steve could almost hear the plants breathing. And his own heartbeat. That stopped when you lifted the shield and gently kissed it.

“Do a good job,” he heard you whisper to it. “Protect him. Keep him safe.”

Steve snapped out of it as those words echoed in his mind. He had a hundred questions, but they vanished in that instant. He wasn’t even thinking—he was reacting—as he stepped forward and opened the door.

The look on your face when you heard the noise and turned around was indescribable. All the tension in your expression softened, and the light in your eyes brightened. 

Steve wondered, how he’d been so blind, so stupid, to believe some reports instead of trusting…you.

“Oh. Hi…” You smiled, joy sparkling in every corner of the room.

God, that smile. The happiness in your eyes at seeing him weakened his knees. He spoke, his voice softer than he’d expected. 

“Hey...”

You almost run to him under instinc. Wanting to move closer, to take his hands, but…you weren’t sure. Was it too much? Too fast? What are you (or this) supposed to be? Are you even dating? Will he hate it? So, you blushed and stood still. “I…I um… I’m so glad you’re here.”

Steve noticed the way you flinched, the way you wanted to reach out but held yourself back. It made him feel…sad, like something was cracking in his chest. He wanted to reach out and take your hand. But he didn’t—not yet. 

Instead, he stepped closer, his voice gentle as he smiled. “…And I’m very glad to be here.”

“Oh.” You weren’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or if you were just lost in his eyes, but your mind was racing, and you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out something dumb, like really dumb.

“I missed you.”

Oh, what the hell. You wanted to bite your tongue. Especially when you saw Steve freeze. Okay, that was stupid as fuck, you thought, looking down, unsure of what to say next.

“I’ll take it back, I’m sorry, that was stu—” But before you could finish, you were pulled into a tight embrace.

Steve pulled you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in a tight, protective hold. As if he wanted you to melt within him.

He realized how absurd he had been for holding this back, how deeply he craved you. Like a primal longing, like a dying plant thirsting for a drop of dew, or desperate for air.

“Please…don’t be.” He whispered, pressing your head to his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair, his eyes closed as he sighed. “I missed you too.”

“Oh.” You awkwardly ran your hands along his back, fumbling at first, before simply giving in and hugging him tighter. You caressed his neck until he rested his forehead against yours, exhaling deeply.

And you smiled. 

“So…you did find out, huh?”

He stood silently, with his chin in your shoulder. And after a while he said in a bitter tone: “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause you look exactly like Tony and Natasha did when they found out. And… because you’re in my lab. I mean, I don’t think this place is a hot spot, huh?” You laughed and broke the hug slightly, but he tightened his grip on your waist, unwilling to let you pull away. 

You caressed his face, inhaling the warmth of his breath, and looked into his eyes. 

"Steve, what happened to me isn’t a burden for you to carry, you know that, right?”

Steve froze. 

Isn’t it? 

Wasn’t it because he hadn’t destroyed Hydra when he had the chance?

Because they didn’t find out sooner?

Because… he wasn’t there?

You struggled to read people, especially someone you cared about, so when you saw the pale, stiff look on his face, you paralyzed.

Was that why he came? To tell you it was over? Well…to be honest, you wouldn’t blame him. After all… you were you, and he was… Steve Rogers. And you were…Hydra’s Frankenstein.

That thought must have shown on your face, because Steve noticed the change in your expression—fear and shame, like you were some kind of Quasimodo who had his mask ripped off.

The mere thought made Steve’s blood boil—the idea that he might reject you because of your past, as if you were to blame for things you couldn’t control. As you were…sinful and…bad.

He suddenly cupped your face and spoke firmly, the words echoing from his heart, the same words he should have said the moment Natasha told him the truth.

“Hey, hey… look at me. Look at me.” He stared straight into your eyes. "Don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt… us.” His voice was filled with protectiveness and anger. “I’m here, and I…” I’m falling for you.

“Do you regret it?” Your voice trembled. “Last night… do you regret… meeting me?”

“No.” His voice was steady and resilient, unwavering and unshakable: “Not in a million lifetimes.”

You held your breath for a moment, trying not to cry. Then spoke as you were telling a secret. 

“I always wondered…What would I have been like if I were… normal? If I had normal parents—a father working in a bank, a mom as a teacher. I’d go to school, go to prom, fall in love… have friends… but…” 

You pressed your fingers into his hand and smiled softly.

“… I wouldn’t change anything about my past, if that was the road I had to take, that leaded me…to finally meet you.”

Steve felt like he could’ve started crying at any moment. 

Your past had left a crack in his heart, something he could never fix, something that would always hurt. And yet, you said it was all worth it? All the suffering, all the pain… just to meet him? How could he… how could he deserve you? He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

“God…” he murmured, his voice filled with pain. “How can you say that… how can you still be so…” 

Kind. Good. Pure.

Natasha was damn right. You were everything she said, and more.

“Hmmm… Maybe…” You thought out loud. "Maybe I always knew I’d meet you someday, and I had to be good enough… to be… worthy.”

Steve exhaled, trying to calm the storm in his heart and mind. 

The weight of your words hit him hard. He paused for a moment before he pulled you against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly, as if that could protect you from all the misfortune or pain that might come in the years ahead.

“Damn it…”

His voice broke as he whispered.

“I can’t believe I found you…”

“Well then,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

“Thank you for finding me.”

Time stilled for a moment, but before he could think, Steve’s body had already reacted, he pinned you against the workbench as his hand weaved through your hair, and his lips pressed yours in a deep kiss. 

He couldn’t hold back anymore, he needed you, wanted you, to hold you as close as possible, without letting you go ever again.

All the composure he had been trying to maintain disappeared the moment he felt you. 

Your lips, your tongue, your scent… Any sense of reason was hanging by a thread. 

He lifted you onto the desk, sending pens and books scattering to the floor, but he didn’t give a damn. Not when your legs wrapped around his hips and you moaned his name as his hand tightened around your waist.

“Jesus…”

The way your voice sounded, the way you were looking at him, the way you were sitting with your legs around him, everything was driving him desperately crazy, struggling to keep control to not to tear your clothes off and make you his right there. 

He broke the kiss before doing something reckless, but his body was tense, and his breathing panting. 

“You’re driving me crazy…” He breathes heavily, leaving a deep kiss in your forehead.

“What?” Your mind was still spinning from his kiss, and you replied without thinking: “Well yeah, welcome to the club.” 

Steve left out a laugh, All the intense revelations from earlier had nearly made him forget just how incredible your comebacks were. 

He looks down and kisses you again, this time with more tenderness than passion, and he speaks as he continues. 

“I’ve been thinking about this since I left you this morning…”

“Can you…” You could barely form a word without moaning: “Can you think…of taking this further?”

“…” 

That made him stopped. 

The suggestion sent a shiver down his spine. Oh you and your amazing comebacks. His mind suddenly flashed, imagining all the things he’d wanted to do to you, maybe in his room, in the bed, with you under him, moaning his name as you just did, only louder and louder…

Steve quickly shook the thought from his mind, trying to force himself back to reality. 

“God… please don’t tempt me.” He could feel his body reacting to his own imagination, so he pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists, trying to regain some control.

“I…” You wanted to say, "I don’t mind," or even, 'I don’t give a damn if you take me right now...You know what, there’s actually a bed at the back of this lab.' But then his phone rang.

“What the hell…” He glanced at the caller ID and groaned, “For gods sake, what timing…” One hand reached for the phone while the other held you firmly. “I’m sorry, babe, give me a sec.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of him calling you that for the first time, but before you could process it, Tony Stark’s voice echoed through the empty lab.

“I don’t know what you are doing there, Cap…And trust me, I don’t wanna know…but Jarvis just sent me a reminder, to remind you, that there are cameras everywhere in the working campus. Everywhere.” 

You could tell there was a humorous tone in Iron man’s voice.

“Even in remotely located labs for top secret employees.”

End but TBC-

Continue to:

3: Reverie |

4: Nightmare |

5: Awakening |

6: Dusk |

7: Hypnagogia |

8: Lull |

9: Vigil |

10: Eclipse |

Alright, thanks for reading up to here. Hope you enjoyed it!! <3

So when I started writing Part 1, I was like, 'Oh, let's just write cute one-shots and short stuff.' And here I am with a complex OC and a struggling Steve. I'm so sorry for that :3 I just can't help myself!

Part 3 comes with 'the one night I made you mine and made you beg' thing I was hoping I'd finally get to. I promise! (Still have no idea how I'm writing that through my working shifts, tho.)

Okay, have a good one <3 Lmk if you liked it ? Report and everything is highly appreciated <3 :D

Love.,

Moon.

[year2000electronics]

So how did Dipper and Mabel transform? You said that most people in the town change over a year, but the twins were almost immediately, so was there some intense body horror?

Like growing extra limbs or the leg joints snapping into disturbing shapes and lengths while their toes fuse together into hooves and their spines push out into a whole other back and continues into a tail? Or Mabel’s horn growing? Idk that sounds like it would hurt pretty bad.

Or did they just wake up one day with their lower half replaced by a unicorn and deer, respectively?

Btw I LOVE how you’ve been doing your world building, and all of your designs are SO CUTE/COOL!!

GREAT QUESTION! see, dipper and mabel's cursed transformations in particular need to happen at a stricter time-point than many of the others because of the role it plays in the story

it can't happen too late, because this is an au about "what if everyone was monsters", and if dipper and mabel were taking their time transforming all the way up to mid-season 1, it kinda defeats the point a little

the transformation needs to happen quicker than expected, because if it's too slow, stan or another adult can see the warning signs and realize that the twins are absolutely going to get cursed if they stay for too long. it needs to happen like [snaps fingers] that, or else it wouldn't be able to happen

SO. with all that in mind, my answer for how the twins end up transforming is this. the twins have exactly one event in our show timeline that they're NOT monsters for: tourist trapped. at the starting point of tourist trapped in the show, we also know for a fact that it's been at least a couple days just based on things like dipper's "until one fateful day" line in the show. so it's not like they get cursed the moment they step into gravity falls! but the curse happening only AFTER the twins find journal 3? i feel like that makes a sort of air of mystique that's like... did the curse take the twins so fast because they dove too far into studying the supernatural? is it because they're kids so it happens faster for them? whoooo knoooows... oooh... (it's left purposely ambiguous)

ANYWAYS. about a day or so after tourist trapped but before gobblewonker, stan has the kids working at the shack for another day of suitable-for-kids labour. however, the entire day, the kids feel really sore and they keep complaining about it to stan. id also pin it as feeling really similar to "growing pains" that kids around that age get? that aching around the hips

he figures they're just being a bunch of city slickers not used to lugging their weight, and he DOES let them have the rest of the day off, but, like, doesnt think anything else about it. why would it be weird? curse takes at least a year. that's how it's always been. the kids go to bed and end up experiencing a lot of feverlike symptoms, crazy fever dreams, unexplained pain, but all that ever happens is that one or two of them wake up half-asleep and try to get some water (not noticing that their feet are clacking against every surface)

and then.

BUT YEAH thats how i imagine it basically. once i finally get around to making a Customary Google Doc about my take on monster falls i might revisit this answer but this is my headcanon for now!

[swanlakebaby]

— sugar daddy | pjm

prompt: time with your sugar daddy.

⸝⸝ pairing: rich!jimin x sugarbaby!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: rich jimin, sugar daddy material, sugar baby, random stuff

⸝⸝ word count: 1.5k

⸝⸝ note: n/a

non smut!

-

you aggressively close the door behind you , shuffling around the front entrance as you plop down heavy shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. exhausted , you plop down onto the couch out of breath from the long flight upstairs to your apartment. you had just spent the day with jimin , your sugar daddy. you hadn’t known him that long but he blew his money on you like as though he’s known you for years.

your phone vibrates in your pocket. still out of breath , you grab it and see jimin’s caller ID.

“what were you doing when i called?” he said teasingly , hearing your panting. you roll your eyes and look over at your bags. “i had to go up six flights of stairs with these heavy ass bags.” “you’re welcome by the way.” you hear shuffling on the line as jimin shifts his position on whatever he was laying on. “are you busy this weekend?” he asks.

you look over at the magnetic calendar on your fridge. “i have an appointment saturday , but after that i’m free.” “great . ill pick you up from your appointment then.” you hesitate for a moment , wanting him to go in detail. “what did you have in mind.”

“i booked us a reservation at a resort for the weekend. don’t worry , all you need is a bag. we can roadtrip there.” jimin says. “i didn’t even agree to it yet.” you say. “really? so you don’t want to go?” jimin sounds disappointed. “i mean— it’s a free trip.”

“exactly.” he hangs up. you roll your eyes and sigh , getting up and going through the bags. jimin bought you basically a whole new wardrobe. you wondered if it was because of the trip he had planned.

you didn’t understand how something like this could happen to someone like you. you got paid thousands of dollars to exist. you wondered if jimin had actual feelings for you , or if he did this to many girls despite not being sexual with them at all. regardless , you were still getting paid and that was all that mattered.

-

a few days later , you stand outside after your appointment waiting for jimin. you scroll endlessly on your phone , escaping reality and forgetting your surroundings. a loud honk comes from a nearby car , making your body jump at the sudden noise. you see jimin in the car , his sunglasses on as he looks up at you , waiting for you to come to the car. he honks again as you walk over , making you jump again. you can see his white teeth through the dark tint of his car as he laughs.

“ha ha.” you say , getting in the passenger seat. “you have your bag?” he asks you , looking over. you pat your bag and throw it in the backseat. from there , you head on your way. the road trip is long. every few hours you’d stop at a gastation for water and something crunchy or sweet. jimin would watch as you’d indecisively look around for something good to snack on for the last few hours of the trip. he’d grow impatient , telling you to just grab everything you want.

“i have a question.” you say abruptly once you’re both back in the car. “hm?” jimin says , seemingly in his own world as he stares ahead on the road. “why me?”

“what do you mean?” he says confused. “like— why me? why out of all the women in the world do you choose to treat me like this?” you take a big sip of water , waiting for this response. “well- i’m not sure. i guess i’ve always been intrigued by you. and the more time i spend with you , the more money i want to shower you with. it’s weird.”

you still didn’t get it. “but , why did you even approach me in the first place?” you look over at him. he doesn’t look back at you as he has his eyes fixated on the road. “if we’re being honest , i thought things would be quick and easy. like a fling. i had just gotten out of a toxic situation , so my perception of women was quite tainted at the time. not in a concerning misogynistic way , but the way that made me want to give up on women altogether. but when i met you , it felt different i guess. of course upon looking at you , i thought , ‘damn i need her’ , but now it’s different. now i know you and think you deserve everything and more. is that a good answer?”

you stare ahead in shock. you didn’t know that’s how he felt about you. “i’m actually flattered. the whole hookup fling part kind of makes me want to pinch you , but the other stuff is kind of cute.”

he smiles , shaking his head. “you can pinch me. but don’t be upset when i pinch you back.” he says. “what does that mean?” you cross your arms. “are we going to forget how you acted when we first met?”

6 months ago - 📍red ruby night club

you drunkenly stumble over to the bar , leaving your friends over at the table. you see a tall guy with dark hair beside you , looking in your direction. you smirk as you order your drink , and sit on one of the bar stools. you turn over to jimin who now has his back turned to you. you sloppily tap his shoulder. you see him flinch slightly as he turns around to face you.

“hi there.” you say. the bartender places your drink in front of you before walking off. “you’re a dancer?” you ask him. he chuckles , noticing your drunk state. “no. i just frequent the bar.” he says , taking a sip of his own drink. “no no no.” you say , shaking your head slowly. “i mean like— because you’re hot.” you down your entire drink.

“i’m flattered. would you like another drink?” he looks down at your now empty glass. you giggle as you shake your head no. “no- i want to go home with you.” you say.

his cheeks flush red at your assertiveness. “that doesn’t sound to good. you’re drunk and your friends have been eyeballing us.” he says. he asks the waiter for a glass of water for you. “so are you saying i’m not fuckable?” you say , getting offended. “it’s just that , it would feel wrong. especially because you look like you’re two minutes from falling out.”

you push him playfully , standing up and pulling your club dress down. “i got to go then.” you say. a random guy comes over , placing his arm around you. “do you wanna dance?” he asks. “yes!” you say , before leaving and heading off to the dance floor. this man watches as you leave.

only a few hours later , you found yourself in a random apartment , your head ringing and the world spinning. “good morning.” a voice says. you turn around and see the same man from the bar , walking over to you with a banana and some water. “did we—“ you start. he shakes his head. “you were super wasted when dancing with that guy. you threw up on his shoes , he began yelling. i had to whisk you away and take you out before the security guards came over. you couldn’t find or contact your friends so i just took you home with me.”

you take a deep sigh of relief. “well , thank you. i was probably a mess.” you take a long sip of water.

“you were. but that’s okay. you can lay here until you feel better.” he smiles up at you before then leaving the room.

“shutup.” you say with a smile , remembering foggy memories from that night. a few minutes later , you arrive at the resort with jimin. the check in process seemed quick and easy , being that jimin had vip access.

once you arrived at the hotel room , you notice something. “only one bed?” you say , furrowing your eyebrow. “yes. as long as you know how to control yourself this time , we’ll be fine.” he says with a laugh. “if that’s a reference to the club , you’re not funny.” you smile , putting down your bags. “what do you wanna do first?” jimin says. “we can explore the shops , grab a late lunch. it’s only a two day resort so we can cram as much in our schedule as possible.”

you watch as he rambles on. you didn’t realize now cute he actually was until now. you’ve always thought he was attractive , but seeing a fluffy soft side of him was new. he was usually very direct and sexy , but it felt like he was slowly revealing more of himself the more you spent time together.

“let’s do whatever you want.” you say.

written by swanlakebaby™

[catherinnn]

Exes with benefits

summary: Exes to fuck-buddies to lovers. After a year of trying to get over each other, you meet again purely by coincidence and aren't able to resist temptation. But still, you weren't going to date him again, it was all for the sake of how good you were together, or at least that's what you told yourself.

warnings: SMUT +18, pnv, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, degradation & praise kink, switch! Eddie (but mostly dom! Eddie), jealously, alcohol and drinking, language.

words: 5k

Eddie and you had been broken up over a year now. And it hadn’t been your best year, it wasn’t like you spent it crying the whole time, but the expectation of being newly single was different than the reality. You didn’t go out every single weekend and made out with a different guy every night out, you hadn’t had a proper date in months and you haven’t had sex in an embarrassing amount of time. But it wasn’t like it was the worse year either, you became really good friends with Robin and Nancy, who before used to be only acquaintances, you got a raise at the café where you worked, and you really learnt to be more by yourself and actually enjoy it.

That’s why tonight you were going to have dinner out by yourself. You started doing it sometimes to out for coffee and just sat there alone reading, it was so comforting that every now and then you needed it, and tonight felt like one of those times.

“Hello there, can I help you?” the waiter at the entrance said to you.

“Hi, yes, I’d like a table for one please?”

“We will have one available in about 20 minutes, would you like to wait at the bar?” he offered.

“Yes, that’d be great”

You sat at the bar and ordered yourself a drink, it surprised you sometimes how the barmen wouldn’t ask for your ID any longer, did you really look like 21? It wasn’t that you weren’t, because you did turned 22 a few months ago, but you didn’t know if it was a good thing to look your age, your mom had always told you that it was better to look younger than to look your age. You decided to stop thinking about it that much because it could turn into a new insecurity really quickly.

When you got out of your own thoughts for a second and started to look around, you were welcomed by a very familiar face. Eddie was sat at the bar too, a few seats next to yours, you saw him looking at you too and a surprised expression on his face showed up later to be changed by a smile and a hand-wave. You waved back but then saw how he stood up with his beer on his hand and walked over to you.

“Hey!” he greeted you.

“Hi, Eds” It slipped out of you, the nickname, it was what you always called him, but that was while you were dating, you didn’t know if it was too affectionate to use it now, you actually didn’t know anything about how to treat him now, after everything, where you supposed to forget about anything that happened between you two and just act like he’s a friend who you say hello to every time you see him? It wasn’t that you wanted to ignore him but that did sound less awkward than this fake niceties. I guess this is the price you pay after such a long relationship, where the confidence between both of you used to be the biggest you’ve ever had with anyone. After three years and a half of heaven. No one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you, and you know you’ve hurt him too.

“What were you doing here?” he asks while sitting down on the bench seat next to yours. This took you out a little, was he really going to stay here and talk as if nothing? Have a drink together? You didn’t know how to feel about that, you liked to see him but you had a feeling you shouldn’t like it.

“I just felt like going out for dinner tonight, nothing special, and you?”

“Well, I did make plans with Gareth to come have dinner together but I’m starting to think he stood me up”

“Oh, wait, really?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he laughed too. “I was about to call him actually and ask what happened, but then I saw you… and got a little distracted” was the comment a little flirty or was it your imagination trying to trick you?

“Oh, well, sorry for the distraction, you can still call him if you need”

“Yeah, will you wait a second? I’ll be right back”

“Yeah, sure” and he went to ask the waiter for the phone, after a few minutes you saw him hung up and walk back to you.

“Well, turns up he’s not gonna make tonight, do you mind if I… stay here with you or is it too much?” he asked and you could detect the hope on his face and his voice. Also his attempt to evade the puppy eyes he gave you every time he wanted something. You thought twice about your answer, you should say no and avoid a potential awkward evening, but at same time you were a little curious.

“Sure, why not? I’d be good to catch up, right?” you gave him a smile and he smiled back, sitting down and ordering more drinks for you two.

The night went on with a lot of more drinks for you two, and fortunately for you, this helped to get out of the awkward phase, but maybe a little too out of the phase.

“Wait wait, but I wanna know, Steve, did anything happened with him after us?” he asked in between you laughter after you confessed you always felt a little jealous over his deals with Chrissy. “Cause I swear, he had crush on you”

“He sooooo did not!” you said trying to stop laughing. “But you know who did had a crush on me back then? Dustin”

“Oh my god, he so did!” he laughed harder. “I remember he used to get all nervous when you came to our meetings, and blushed every time we kissed or when I talked about you”

“Anyway, that was before that bitch Suzie stole his attention” you joked faking annoyance but then when Eddie started laughing your lips went upwards again and a giggle escaped.

And after even more drinks were ordered by the two of you, Eddie had the idea to dance to the great songs the bar was playing, since there was a space to dance and some couples were swinging to the music.

He took your hand and walked over there. Then his other hand went to your waist and yours went to his neck while the both of you laughed at the way you were dancing. Then, he pulled you closer and didn’t break the eye-contact, faces inches away from each other and you think you never felt hotter.

The next morning presented itself with you waking up with an important headache, not really able to open your eyes from all the light in the room. You sat down and slowly started to see more. Like the window on the wall next to you and the Corroded Coffin poster next to it.

Wait, Corroded Coffin?

This was Eddie’s room, you realized.

Looking down next to you on the bed, you saw him asleep on his stomach but his face turned to your side, his hair a mess. You looked down to your body and were met with that the only thing you were wearing was the tangled sheets on his bed, under that…nothing.

Flashes of last night came back to you, the kiss at the dancefloor, the kiss on his car on the way here, all the kisses that were shared from the front door to his bedroom door, and all the kisses that happened after that on his bed, and the memory of those kisses that weren’t only on the lips but on the rest of your bodies who were all too familiar with each other.

Eddie moved next to you, he opened his eyes slowly and was met by the sight of you tangled in his sheets with him, your hair was messy and your neck and chest were covered in hickeys. He smirked proudly.

“Morning” he said with his raspy morning voice.

“Yeah, hi” you responded and started looking for your clothes.

“Come back here, stay a little longer” he pouted and released his best puppy eyes that he had tried so hard to hold back last night when he asked you if he could stay.

“Stay? Eddie, how are you not freaking out about this?” you questioned him.

“What’s there to freak out about? The reason why we stopped doing this in the first place?” he said sarcastically

“The reason is because we broke up! We’re no longer dating so we shouldn’t be doing this anymore” you said seriously.

“Says who? Cause if they felt like we did last night, they’d change their minds”

“Well, I’m not” you stood up and put on your shirt and underwear.

“Hey, don’t go” he asked while getting up and tried to stop you from finding your pants.

“Eddie, this is not going to change because of last night” you signaled between you and him referring to your relationship.

“Why not? You felt it, you were there! You don’t just have that with anyone”

You didn’t answer and picked up you pants that were under the chair of his desk, and put them on.

“We can’t just forget about this” he fought.

“Well, we’re gonna have to try” you simply said and walked out of his house.

The rest of the day followed slowly, you didn’t like it when you were wrong, and you liked it even less when you had to admit that you were, but Eddie was right. You couldn’t stop thinking about last night. The memory of his lips on yours, on your neck, on your chest, on your breasts. His touch everywhere, like the way you could still feel his hands on your hips while you sat on top of him, probably leaving bruises on either side of your hips, you didn’t dare to see, it would just add fuel to the fire that was your body right now.

The next morning you heard a knock on the door, when you opened to check who it was, the person entered your house before you could kick him out. Eddie, of course.

“Please, do come in” you joked.

“Sorry, but I wanted to talk to you, that’s why I didn’t call before, cause I knew you’d hung up”

“You should take the hint maybe”

“Please, just think about it! Give it another chance, Princess, we’re so good together” He walked closer to you.

“I-I don’t know, Eddie”

“Could you forget about last night? Like you said we should” he asked you.

“Well, it’s only been a day-“

“But could you forget about it for even a second of your day?”

“You’re so dramatic”

 “Don’t change the subject, princess” he mocked, but he was right, again. And not only did you hate the fact that he was right, that you weren’t able to focus on anything else now, but also you hated the way you could feel your panties get wet at the sound of that nickname he just called you. And also, how pretty did he look begging before?

“You can’t stop thinking about it even now” he whispered and softly pulled you closer to him, really close. “Are you thinking about how this hickeys ended up here?” he made a path with the touch of his fingers from your neck to the valley of your breasts. “Or how my hands felt holding you again, touching you everywhere again? How they held you while you jumped on my cock again? And moaned into my mouth cause we couldn’t stop kissing? How deep I was inside of you and how fucking hot it was?”

He touched his lips with yours to give you time to pull back, but when you didn’t, he kissed you, slowly and passionate. One of his hands on the back of your neck and the other moved down to your ass while yours pulled his hair just how he likes it, he moans into your mouth. He bites you lower lip as he gives you his biggest smirk, you pull him down to you again and start making out with your guidance.

“Fuck” he moans as he pulls out of you and lays down next to you on the couch, both trying to catch your breaths.

“My god” you sigh and pass your fingers through your hair.

He looks at you and smiles. “You look so hot I could do this even one more time” he tries put you stop him.

“We’ve already came three times, give me a rest!” you laugh.

“See what I told you? We’re so good together”

“You sound so cheesy” you mock him and he laughs too. “We can keep doing it, but I don’t want anything romantic, not a relationship, just… two exes… enjoying…how good they are together” you find trouble trying to define whatever you wanted to be.

“Exes with benefits” he jokes.

“Yeah” you laugh.

Thanks to this new agreement with Eddie, you didn’t only get the mind-blowing sex, but also, this meant that you could hang out with the whole group again. In your relationship with Eddie, you became good friends with the kids and you had to admit that you missed them after the break up, but they were Eddie’s friends first and you had to respect that.

But now, when you were certain that neither you nor Eddie would be awkward hanging out, you decided to accept Steve’s invitation to join him taking the kids out for pizza. He had warned you that Eddie would be there too and you let him know that it didn’t matter.

He picked you up telling you that Eddie was in charge of picking the rest of the kids up.

“So, you sounded pretty sure over the phone when you told me that it didn’t matter to see Eddie again” he said keeping his eyes on the road.

“Yeah, don’t worry, I was gonna have to see him again eventually if I wanted to still hang out with you guys, and I felt that it was about time now” you lied.

“That’s really mature of you, I’m not used to that” he joked.

“You’re one to talk” you joked back.

“Hey!” you both laughed. “But you know, Eddie gave me a similar response when I asked him if it was ok to invite you”

“Oh, did he?”

“Yeah, he said that it was only fair since you haven’t seen the kids in a while and they miss you too”

“Ohhh, do they?” you changed the subject so he wouldn’t think about you and Eddie too much.

“Are you kidding? They’re always telling me that you were so much more fun than me” You laughed again.

When you got to there you had to wait a few minutes because obviously, this is Eddie we’re talking about and he’s always late, so after they all arrived, the boys gave you a big hug, it surprised you that Max also came along, she was secretly your favorite, and she knew that.

The night went on great for you, you never realized just how much you missed them until tonight. Obviously, you had to act a little distant towards Eddie, it had to seem believable.

But Eddie was not having his best night, not because you two had to act distant, but because the waiter you had tonight wouldn’t stop flirting with you, every single time he came over to table.

The first time he came to give you all the menu, he would only look at you while he talked, then when after he took your order he winked at you before leaving, he also asked for your name, but only yours! Not even anyone else’s at the table! But what was definitely too much for the evening was when he asked for your number.

It was when you all stoop up from the table and walked to the door.

“Oh, could I ask you just one thing before you leave?” he asked you.

“Yes, of course” you answered.

“Could I- ask for your number?” he said kind of nervous.

“Oh” you were surprised and of course all the group behind you heard, they were probably paying even more attention to the waiter’s question than you. “Sure, yeah”

Eddie could feel the stares of his friends while you wrote your number on a napkin for the other guy. It was indeed an awkward moment for him, but not for the reasons they thought. It wasn’t because his ex-girlfriend was giving her number to someone in front of him, but because his ex-girlfriend with benefits — as you had defined your relationship now — was giving someone else her number and he couldn’t do anything to stop you, not now nor later when you’re alone, he couldn’t just tell you that he was mad because of that, the agreement was: this is not a relationship, this is just fucking. So he just had to swallow all of his jealousy.

But he wasn’t the only one with this problem. It happened a few weeks after, Steve was going to a party some senior was throwing and invited you with Eddie, Robin and Nancy.

The night had started rather greatly, Eddie had come over to your house an hour before the party, said he wanted to "help you pick the outfit" but it was just his excuse to see you dressing and undressing and also modeling the outfits.

"I prefer the other dress, the black one" he gave his opinion from your bed, laid there watching you.

"Of course you like the black one better" you commented remembering that it's his favorite color.

"You look more metal" he joked. You laughed and took the dress off, you could feel his eyes staring at you, and you turned around and looked back at him.

"What?" you asked innocently.

"Come here" he whispered.

You walked to him with a smug smile and straddled him. "Hi"

"Hey, pretty girl" his hands start caressing your legs, thighs, hips, waist.

You lowered yourself on him and kissed him, his hands go to your ass and moves you. You can feel his hard-on through your underwear and through his pants.

"Eds, wait" you interrupted. "We don't have much time, I still have to get dressed and do my hair and make-up-"

"I'll be so quick, baby" He cuts you to then unbutton his pants and lowers them with his boxers, he moves your panties to the side and touches your cunt with one of his fingers. "Are you always this wet for me? Always ready for me to use you whenever I want?"

And you almost moan at his words, you nod your head and he laughs.

He passes the tip of his cock through your folds covering it with your slick. "Ready?"

"Yeah, please"

"Mmmh" he moans as he enters you slowly.

"Ohh" you moan when he is fully inside. He starts moving you up and down on his cock, guiding your movements and honestly that's exactly what you wanted right now, just him using you.

"Fuck, that's right baby, God, feels so good" he groans, you can't stop your moaning as he increases the speed, he grabs your hips and keeps you in place as he stars moving his pelvis up and down, thrusting into you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, play with your clit, princess, do that for me please" he tells you and you obey. You throw your head back and moan his name amongst some other curses and nonsense.

"Yeah? Are you about to cum, baby?"

"Yes! Eddie!"

His breath begins to uneven even more than before as he enjoys the sight of you jumping on top of him, your tits bouncing in your black laced bra and you pretty face as you're cuming on his cock. He feels your walls clenching around him and that's enough to make him cum inside you, creaming all of your walls and filling you up, moaning and grunting your name.

You laid on top of him, your head on his chest and his hands holding you so you don’t fall, both breathing heavily.

“I’ll clean you up now so you can put on that pretty little black dress, and put on some make-up, maybe that red lipstick you know it’s my favorite, and then we can get going, right?” he asks, you nod your head not being able to form words just yet.

After you got cleaned-up and ready, you got in the car and drove there, when you arrived and walked in, you quickly greeted Nancy and Robin who were later joined by Steve.

You passed the first few hours doing shots and playing games, that’s how you ended celebrating with Robin because you had won a game of beer-pong against two other guys you didn't really know. Then you two walked back into the kitchen to pour yourselves another cup and went to the living room — where most people were. You were chatting and dancing with her when you saw Eddie at a corner of the room talking to a blonde girl, he was laying his back against the wall with her in front of him, smiling, laughing, and clearly flirting.

You tried to ignore them and the uncomfortable feeling in your belly this had caused you. Since you and Eddie aren't dating — you had made that very clear — you weren't going to let yourself suffer or let this give you any kind of reaction whatsoever. You kept dancing with Robin as if nothing happened but every time you glanced over at him again, you could see that they were much more closer that before and she had started to play with his hair while they kept laughing.

Fuck, there's that uncomfortable feeling again.

You wanted to go over there and push her from him, and then ask him what the fuck does he think he's doing. But then obviously, you didn't. You just drank some more until you were properly drunk and danced some more until Steve offered you and Robin a ride home. You didn't see Eddie again that night, luckily for you. Because when you woke up the next morning and started thinking about it again, you came to the conclusion that if you had seen him again while you were that drunk, you would have probably said something that you would now be regretting.

So luckily, you just woke up with a hungover, no regrets and decided that you weren't in any place to feel jealous, he had every right to flirt with others girls, even if it was right in front of you. It's too bad that you had declined the waiter’s offer to go out last Friday, but then again, he wasn't really your type, and you would only be doing that to get even.

Because of course this was all just an attempt to convince yourself that you didn't care what Eddie did outside of your little affair, and an attempt to make you stop thinking about the blond girl so close and touchy with him. But luckily, you were able to ignore that uncomfortable feeling in your gut for a little longer.

A few weeks after that, everything went back to normal for you both, or as much as normal it could be to be having an affair with your ex-boyfriend. So this weekend, after Eddie had told you that he was going to be busy, you invited your friends to sleep over.

"Did he really ask for your number?" you asked Nancy surprised.

"Even after I told him I have a boyfriend, he kept asking and asking"

"What a dick" Robin commented. "But for what I have heard, there's another one who's also having a lot of game lately" she said signaling to you.

"What are you on about now?" you asked her.

"Steve might have told me that a certain waiter flirted with you the whole night and then he asked for your number"

"Oh, god, he’s such a snitch!”

"Not only that, but the waiter even did all of this in front of Eddie" she finally said, Nancy gasped and your face went red.

"And you gave it to him?"

"What was I supposed to do? I can't say no, it would have been so awkward"

"For him! What does that have to do with you?"

"I don't know, it just felt weird"

"And Eddie didn't do anything?" Nancy asked.

"And what would he do? He's not her boyfriend anymore" Robin responded before you could.

"I don't know, it must have been weird for him" Nancy insisted.

"I think he's gotten over it at the party with that blonde girl who couldn't keep her hands off of him" you said before thinking about it, it just escaped off of your mouth. The girls looked at you with a funny expression and you got even redder. "Sorry, umm... should I get more ice-cream? I'll go downstairs to grab it" you quickly offered to change the subject.

What you weren't expecting, neither did the girls in your room, nor the boy climbing up your window to sneak into your room: was what ending up happening.

"Surpriiiii-" Eddie started before he could put his feet on the ground and turned around from your window.

He stopped when he saw that it wasn't you that was on the bed, and the girls who actually were there stared at him with surprise.

When you went upstairs to announce that you only had strawberry left, you were indeed surprised too.

"Hi..." Eddie said nervously when he saw you. "I- didn't know you had company"

"Wwwwhat is he doing here?" Robin asked amused.

"Umm, he's..." you tried while he looked at you as if asking you what to do. Only if you knew.

"Don't try to lie to us" Nancy warned.

"Fuck" you sighed and gave up.

"I'm sorry" Eddie said to you as if ignoring the other girls would make them disappear.

"What are you doing here anyways? You said you had plans" you asked getting angry.

"Jeff canceled, so I thought I could sneak in and surprise you?"

"It would have been very clever to call before!"

"Then it wouldn't be a surprise anymore"

"I didn't want a surprise-"

"Okaaaaay" Robin interrupted. "Stop fighting and explain yourselves"

"Uh, okay, we- are- ummm" you tried.

"Back together?" Nancy tried to help.

"No!" you quickly denied.

"No need to act so disgusted about it" He added.

"I'm not! It's just- what did you call us the other day?"

"Exes with benefits" he said and the girls looked as if they couldn't decide whether to be excited or to laugh at the situation.

"You're both idiots, that's what you are" Robin finally ended it. "Is he going to join us for the sleep over?" She asked you.

"Can I?" He asked you too.

"Ugh, fine" you sighed.

Of course you ended up explaining how it happened and of course you expected them to tell the rest of the group all about the news. What you didn’t know is what happened now, do you keep doing it but without hiding? That sounded a little too serious. So when Eddie met with you at your house again a few days after that, you knew you had to talk.

"Steve and Dustin already interrogated me" he announced.

"I know, Max and Lucas did the same to me" you told him. "I don't know Eddie"

"What?" he asked confused.

"How does this continue? What does this mean for us?"

"Does anything have to change?"

"I don't know... do you want it to change?"

He took a few seconds before answering, like he was debating something in his head.

"Alright, don't freak out, but this wasn't exactly what I wanted from the beginning" he confessed and you did in fact started to freak out.

"Wait, what?!"

"No, no, no, wait! I didn't mean it like that, I just- listen, when I first saw you again in that restaurant I got so fucking excited, I wanted to spend the rest of the night with you, cause if I didn't I got this feeling that I was going to regret it”

"But... you did spent it with me" you said confused.

"Do you remember that I told you that Gareth had stood me up, and that I called him to ask him?" you nodded. "I actually had called him to ask him to not come at all, he had told me that he was running late but I told him that you were in the restaurant too and you were alone and that if I didn't get a chance to talk to you again I would regret it my whole life"

It was your turn to take a few minutes to think, to take in this new information.

“And what do you actually want?”

"I want to get back together. I don't only want the sex. I want a relationship too" he admitted.

"And why did you agree if you knew that I didn't want that?"

"I thought I should take the opportunity, even if it wasn't completely what I wanted, it was still you. That and I was kind of hoping I could make you fall for me again"

You slowly shook your head wondering how you didn’t see this coming, it sounded so… Eddie.

"Could I?" he whispered.

"My God, Munson" you sighed. "You are unbelievable"

He softly smiled and suddenly you ran to him, jumping so he could catch you and take you in his arms. You stared at each other only to make yourself surer that this was the right decision. So then you softly grabbed his cheeks and kissed him.

And after the first news your friends got that you two were having an affair, came the second news that you were finally back together, and with that, a second interrogation from every one of your friends. But this time, they were sure you were doing the right thing.