#i just want closure for fucks sake

[tomblinkies]

guess who's gonna take an SAT and an ACT at his old high school and walk in like a badass and then proceed to tell the school fuck you in his head and finally move on

[dirtytransmasc]

I hope we get a scene of Alicent with Aegon's body. If her son is damned to die, if she is damned to spiral into insanity, if she is to lose her life too the grief, let me see her with his body.

let her hold her baby in her arms one more time. let her wipe the blood that poured from his mouth and nose as he died. let her run her fingers over the viscous burns that adorn his skin. let her fix his hair. let her bathe him with a cloth as she had when he was a babe. let her kiss his cheek, his forehead, his hair, his hands. let her lay her head against him, hugging him like she had failed to do for years.

he was her firstborn and yet, her heart was still beating and his was not, she was not yet cold in her grave, no, no her son was cold, her flesh was warm, too warm. he was her baby, her son, the boy she tried so hard to protect, who had loved even when it hurt, who she had stood in front of a dragon for. she loved him, the very bones of him, and now he was dead.

let her lose her mind right there, in that room, still clinging to her body, one that's too cold, too still, too quiet. let her scream out to the gods, damning them, cursing them for taking her eldest son, amongst everything else in her life.

I want her to drive away anyone who tries to take him from her, forcing the silent sisters or whoever would be left to deal with his body at that point. let her curse and spit and claw at anyone who comes too close.

she would stay there for hours, reflecting on her memories of him. maybe she talks to him or hums a lullaby until she finally loses her battle with what remains of her consciousness and sanity, falling still against the table.

she dreams of Aegon, she dreams of the life she wish she could have provided, the life she had tried so hard to give him. a life where he was safe, a life where she had been a better mother, a life where she didn't need to live in and impose fear up on her children. maybe if she had tried hard enough he would still be alive, she'll think as she floats in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

she'll wake in plain chambers she only partly recognizes, she'll learn of her sons lackluster and sparsly accompanied burning, she'll learn her son was gone and she was alone. there won't be much of her left to care. she just continues dreaming, dreaming of her dead children and spiraling to madness until her broken heart finally gives out.

[my previous post inspired this, cause all I can think about now is Alicent mourning her son and its gonna put me in an early grave]

[elephantbitterhead]

In yet another installment of 'why always with the baby talk?', I am forced to confront the British insistence on referring to closure snaps as 'poppers.'

[hanasnx]

closure

MINORS DNI 18+ WARNINGS: sexual content | booty calling spider-man :)

PETER PARKER doesn't understand why he keeps letting you do this to him. Over and over again you tell him friendship is all you want, yet at the late hours of the night— since you know he's already up— you ask if he can afford a break. Like an idiot, he swings by. Doesn't even get the chance to take off the suit before you're shoving him down into a seat, straddling him to rub yourself all over his bulge.

"Hey, easy," he tells you, "you're gonna leave a wet spot." To protest you, his gloved hands cup the plush flesh of your backside, lifting you over him. That spider-strength has you weak in the knees, eagerly latching onto his neck over the cloth. A gasp emits from him as he maneuvers his erection from the confines of his suit and you mouth at his pulse point.

"Want- you, Spider. Need you." At the invoke of that nickname, he lulls his head back and you bite onto him in your enthusiasm. A delicious and low groan pours from his throat, from both the sensation and anticipation of being inside you again. Obediently, he lowers you, nudging your entrance with the head of his cock until he feels a give. You suck in a breath to feel that stretch, no one stretches you like Peter does.

"Fuck," he drags out the word, slowly reintroducing you to his every inch. Impatiently, you push down, as if you could ever hope to overpower him. The man has lifted buses. "Wait a second, baby, wait," His fingers dig into your skin, warning you that you're going too quick for your sake.

"I can't wait any longer, you took so long getting here," you whine, burying your nose into the crook of his shoulder. You can smell his sweat through it, the musk of recent exercise, prowling the streets of Manhattan looking for trouble. "Just fuck me already?"

Pete can't believe this is working on him. Yet again bowing to your whims because he's that desperate for your attention, that desperate for your touch. He can't lie, your impetuous begging for him and his dick strokes more than his ego, length twitching while half-seated inside you. "You want it that bad?" his tone betrays his hope.

"Yes! Yes, please, Pete," With your plea, your grip on him inflects with your syllables, rutting your body against him for any kind of friction, while his halt remains infallible. No matter how you wiggle, he won't let you sink further. At first it was to keep you from hurting yourself, now it's because he likes hearing your bargain for him. Those addicting lips glide up to his ear, and he can feel your breath on the shell of it through his mask. "Need my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man."

"You're gonna pull that card? Seriously?" his indignant question is adversely punctuated with a buck up into you and you cry out. It got you fucking wet. It spurs him on, working himself up to a steady pace as he fucks you. He can hear the sounds of the city through the open window, if sirens flew by right now he's not sure he'd have the strength to leave you.

Putty in his hands, your body acts as fluid as he uses it, and you're so grateful you reached out to him. Fucking a superhero is thrilling enough, but fucking Spider-Man has a perk you can't pass up. That spider bite may have gifted an extra couple inches to his cock, but you're more interested in his power to fuck you like a sex toy. Along for the ride, you bounce on him because he's moving you. Like you're nothing. Out of instinct, your lips clumsily find his on the cloth as you brush noses. Your tongue peeks out, the felt drying the tip and his lips shift under your touch.

Breathless and amused, he asks, "Are you trying to french me through the mask again?"

[reidmania]

sharpest tool | s.reid

(chapter eight, halloween)

‘Your hands are all over my scent, I worry for you, you worry for me, and it's fine if we know we won't change. Collect every dream in these old empty pockets, in hope that I'll see them someday. But the wreckage of you, I no longer reside in, and the bridges have long since been burned, the ash of the home that I started the fire in. It starts to return to the Earth, I'm leavin' this town and I'm changin' my address I know that you'll come if you want. It's not Halloween, but the ghost you're dressed up as sure knows how to haunt’

summary; communication is hard, especially when spencer is keeping secrets and you’re debating sticking around to find out what they are.

warnings; arguments, fem reader, reader is a bitch, horrible miscommunications, spencer is confusing, reader is hurt, they both cry, some comfort but not really, direct continuation of the last chapter, suggestive so 18+ please, mdni, there is so many mixed emotions in this, kissing, mentions commitment issues, ghosting, god they are complicated, reader is real as always.

taglist; @gghostwriter @lavonee @guiltyyassin @spencersinonlygf @criminalmindssworld @iknwreid @fortheloveofgubler @yokaimoon @sapphirecobalt-1 @eddiesdrummergf @livvyliv15 @lover-of-books-and-tea @sebastiansstanswhore @bloodredrubyrose @sp3ncelle @nemobee777 @jencole214 @hazzarules @ameerakane20 @lucere @cultish-corner @psyches-reid

“Please.” It was so quiet, so desperate, full of genuine plea leaving his lips as he hand brushed your shoulder, spinning you to face him. You looked up at him and your chest ached painfully at the tears lining his eyes. You wondered how long it would be before he no longer had an effect on you.

You shook your head, dropping your gaze down. You wanted to yell at him, tell him how shit he made you feel, make him feel the hurt he had inflicted onto you, but you didn’t, you couldn’t. It was Spencer for christ sake. You hated it, so much, that he was standing here and so were you, you hated that you were looking into his eyes and your heart was aching at the sight, you hated him so much it made your chest hurt, or maybe that was because you loved him.

“What do you want from this, Spencer?” It was shakier than you intended it to come out. You didn’t understand him, which wasn’t new since his brain was a complexity that yours couldn’t near but this was different. His feelings had always been clear until now. Why was he so fixated on making sure you knew he was sorry, why was he so worried about that when he wouldn’t provide you with an explanation, when he knew without that there was no way he could fix this.

“I just- i don’t want you to hate me.” He whispered, your mind spun with furthered confusion and honestly his mixed signals and emotions were beginning to give you whiplash to the point your head hurt and your neck ached. His hand reached out for your jaw, you snapped your head away.

“Would that make you feel better about yourself? If i didn’t hate you?” You asked, maybe the words were malicious, but your voice came out genuine, searching his eyes to see if he needed some sort of validation from you.

“No- I just- I want to tell you everything but I can’t, because you will argue with me and i hate arguing with you-“ you cut off his ramble.

“What do you think this is? A friendly discussion?”

“Closure?”

You scoffed, “No explanation, No reasoning, wont be honest, avoiding questions, getting frustrated- Yeah no this is great closure actually. I hope you feel better now.” You huffed out, tone laced with sarcasm.

He said your name, you frowned. “I don’t want you to hate me. I fucked up, i know. And im sorry i can’t tell you what you want to hear— or anything worth listening to but I care about you, so much. So incredibly much, even if you don’t believe it. I do, I do. I care about you.” He was begging in his words. You didn’t understand why.

“I hate what you did, and i hate how you made me feel, and i hate that i trusted you, i hate that you lied to me—”

“I didn’t lie.”

You scoffed, "I'll never hurt you'" you mocked his promise, "I promise" you continued. He remained silent as his gaze dropped, his hands came to run through his hair.

You were silent for a moment, before you sighed, dropping your gaze, "I don't hate you." You mumbled, not for his comfort but for the fact it was true. You didn't hate him, hating him was near impossible.

"Im sorry." He apologised. "Let me make it up to you."

"Tell me why." You argued.

"I can't." He almost begged, like it physically hurt him to say.

You shook your head, "Then can you just, leave me the fuck alone?" You were tired. Of this, of this feeling. It was as if Spencer came into your life, got close, purely for the sake of reminding you why you didn't let anyone do that. It was sickening. The hurt caused you physically sickness more times then you were willing to admit.

The nights you spent in hysterics over the overwhelming ache in your heart, the him shaped ache. Well those were nights you kept to yourself. When nights grew too lonely, or the side of the bed he had almost claimed as his own carried a hint of his scent, when you saw the hoodie laying on the chair in the corner of your room. You never wore it, you couldn't. You couldn't return it either. It remained in place in the corner of your room, untouched.

"I can't." He repeated in the same tone, yet quieter. He looked so resigned, so in his own head. Guilty.

You wanted to scream.

It was as simple as that. He was confusing, a walking contradiction. He wouldn't tell you what caused his sudden disappearance, what you had done, or what he had done, but he was acting as if he was physically incapable of staying away from you despite that.

Your eyes squinted when you looked up at him.

You weren't going to cry - not again. The fact he had even seen that was an embarrassment you would delve into later — way too late in the night and hate yourself for, for probably the next few years of your life. He was looking at you, pleading with his eyes.

You wanted to scream.

"You don't get to do that." It came out harsh, you intended it so. You could see the physical stiffness of his body. He wanted to reach out, touch you. You wanted him to stay away.

No, you didn't. Your feelings were just as contradictory as he was. In a way you wanted him to stay away from you because you knew if he didn't you may break. The tough shell exterior may crumble for him, again. You wanted to hug him, you wanted to feel the warmth of his body and breathe in his scent, but you wanted to hate him more.

"I know." He said, quietly, It was honest. He chewed at his lip as he looked at you, hands by his side, squeezing his fists together before releasing them. You wanted to walk away. You wanted to so badly but your feet remained glued to the ground, too close to him, yet at the same time not close enough.

You pulled your gaze away, looking over the streets. It was quiet, deafeningly so. If you focused enough you'd hear the music coming from the inside of the bar. You couldn't, you couldn't focus enough on anything other than Spencer in front of you.

"Spencer." You turned your gaze back to him when you muttered his name. It was stern, steady, a complete contradiction to how you felt. "If you aren't going to give me an explanation or at least tell me what i did, then i want nothing to do with you."

His breath hitched, you heard it. He was quiet for a moment then his head dropped, a mental argument, you could imagine. Then when he spoke it was quiet, earnest.

"You didn't do anything." It came out like a promise, he said it so certainly you almost believed it. You wondered if you'd ever believe anything he said again, the voice in the back of your mind screaming that he was a liar seemed a little louder than his words.

Your eyes squinted as your arms raise and fell by your side with a huff of frustration parting your lips. You were over this. So over it.

Everything you had avoided getting yourself into - for this exact reason being proven nothing more than a mistake.

You could hardly form words.

"What did you do then?" You accused, it would be a lie to say that the thought of him possibly finding another girl didn't cross your mind at least once, or a hundred times. It was hard not come up with scenarios and false accurate explanations for what he did.

He said your name, because he wanted to believe you knew him better than that, looking at you with a frown so sad it made your heart feel as if it was constricted of blood. "Nothing- I didn't- Nobody did anything wrong." He frowned.

You furrowed your eyebrows because the more he talked the more you wanted to turn around and hit your head against the brick wall, hoping maybe if you did it enough times this would all make sense. Although you doubted that.

"So you just.. lost interest?" You didn't want to ask, you wish you didn't care.

"No." He shook his head instantly, stepping forward. You would've stepped back if your feet didn't feel glued to the ground, and if his eyes werent burning into yours, as if they were trying to tell you something that his words couldn't.

"No- I am- So interested."

You closed your eyes, because you were sure if you didn't you would scream.

“I know— Thats not fair and I am confusing you— I am confused too.” He stepped closer again. You could almost feel his body heat and the height of him cascading a shadow over you, blocking the streetlight from your vision, not that you needed it because your eyes remained closed.

You sighed, dragging your hands down your face. If this situation were to happen eight month ago, you would’ve turned around on your heels and left without a second thought, refusing to let this hurt you, refusing to care for someone so deeply again, but this wasn’t happening eight months ago, it was happening now, and you did care about Spencer, so incredibly much. It was almost embarrassing. You were embarrassed about how much you cared.

“So is it a commitment thing?” You mumbled through your hands, you just needed something, the rest you could make up in your head late at night before you fell asleep, pouring coffee in the morning, you could come up with an explanation that provided you with enough comfort you made be able to live with the unknowing.

“No.” He shook his head.

That didn’t help, now you were more confused. If it was a commitment thing, you could understand, but it wasn’t and you didn’t understand.

“You do realise this whole conversation is useless right?” You mumbled, peeling your hands away from your face, and opening your eyes. You knew he was close, but not this close. His body was in front of yours, so close it was like a punishment, and torture at once because you had to refrain from reaching up and wrapping your arms around him, in search of the comfort that had grown absent with him.

You looked up at him, a frown on your lips. You wished you could walk away, he looked down at you, chewing at his lips for a moment as his eyes flickered along every feature of your face, committing it all to memory. “But it’s a conversation.” He barely whispered it.

Your heart tugged with so much ache you were sure you were going to die. “You’re hurting me.”

He was silent, his eyes looking into yours. He didn’t flinch at your words but you could see it in his eyes, he knew. Whether it was intentional or not, he knew he was hurting you, he knew what he was doing, and he looked like it was breaking his heart.

He hesitated, you waited. For something, anything.

“Can I kiss you?”

Thats not what you expected. And you weren’t sure if the butterflies in your stomach were hurt and anger dwindling around, or whether it was nerves because it was Spencer. Offering, or asking for something that only confused you more, yet you wanted to say yes.

“No- What?- Are you insane?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing.

He didn’t seem shocked nor hurt by your rejection. He probably expected it.

What he was shocked by, what you were also shocked by was the fact although your words, you leant up and your lips were on his before he could reply. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the emotions, or maybe it was just him.

You would regret it when you pulled away, you knew that. You would hate yourself for every second of the rest of your life when his lips parted yours, but right now, as his hands found way to your waist the moment he processed what was happening, tugging you in closer so your chest was flush against his own and his lips were pressing against yours, all thoughts of anything else left your mind.

His hands gripped at the fabric of your shirt, tangling the material through his fingers, using that to pull you impossibly closer, the movement was so familiar, because he always wanted you so close, he used to, anyways. You weren’t sure what you were thinking when your hands came to his neck, pressing against either side of it.

You definitely weren’t sure what you were thinking when your hands moved from his neck to tangle in his hair, encouraging him further into the kiss.

You were sure you weren’t thinking when your lips parted as his tongue brushed over the lining over your lips, hands squeezing your waist gently. you could feel the air leaving his nose against your lower lip, it tickled and if you weren’t kissing for the reason you were, you would’ve pulled away in a mess of laughter, because with him you could.

He hadn’t been drinking, not alcohol anyways, you knew that because you could taste the sugary syrup residue on his lips from some sort of soda. You were sure yours resembled the taste of vodka, not that you had drank a lot, actually only half of a drink, so you couldn’t even blame kissing him on being drunk, because you were completely in your right mind.

You settled for blaming emotions instead.

You were hyperaware of everything, every touch, every small breath, every movement of his lips, every soft grace of his tongue, of his scent. His scent was suffocatingly familiar, and sickeningly comforting. Your chest was constricted and you weren’t sure if it was from the messiness of his kiss as his lips pressed and moved against yours, or if it was from how you knew when you pulled away you would regret it.

When your hands tugged gently on the strands of hair tangled in your fingers, a slight groan left his lips straight against yours, the sound sent your nerves into a frenzy, and all common sense went out the window. His hands were everywhere, your back, your hair, your shoulders, your thighs.

“We are in the middle of the road.” He mumbled against your lips, not pulling away. You think he knew just as well as you did, the moment it slowed down you’d have too much time to think about it.

“Oh” you mumbled back, pressing your lips against his again, but also very aware that this was very public, although the street was dead, and quiet as the minutes ticked to a later hour, you did not necessarily want to be seen as the girl kissing her ex almost boyfriend in the middle of the street.

“How’d you get here?” He asked, his lips left yours yet before you could even have time to regret kissing him in the first place, his lips connected with your jaw, and your head and common sense remained up in the clouds, you stayed right here with him.

Your breath was heavy, chest rising and falling as your eyes fluttered closed, head tilting to allow him more space as his teeth brushed ever so gently against your jaw before his lips continued against your neck. “Uh” apparently your ability to talk was up in the clouds with the rest of your dignity.

“Uh?” He mumbled, he was teasing.

“Penelope.” You huffed out as your head tilted further, hands still in his hair, his hands still on your waist.

He hummed as his hands slipped under your shirt, pressing gently against the soft skin of your back, the touch sent shivers and goosebumps everywhere. You could feel him everywhere, you were utterly consumed by him in every aspect. “How much have you drank?” He asked.

What a question, because although you were sober and unaffected by the half of a drink you had, admitting that would mean you wouldn’t be able to blame whatever stupid decision you made on alcohol, but you knew if you lied, and said you had more than you did, he would be pulling away and making sure you got home safe.

No option was a good option but one saved your dignity and the other deprived you of him.

“Half of one.” He hummed in response.

“Do you want me to take you home?” He asked, pulling away to look down at you, one hand left your back to reach for your jaw, his thumb brushing over the soft skin of cheek. Any regret in your chest seemed to be overtaken by the gentleness of his touch and the familiarity of his offer.

But you shook your head, “No- you’re not coming to my house.” You mumbled, your lips were still tingling with the sensation of his, you didn’t want him at your house, not anymore. It had taken you a while to even let him there in the first place, he had lost the right to your home. Apparently he would always have the right to you though, even if it was embarrassingly so. “Take me to yours?”

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

chapter two:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ warnings: none <3

➴ word count: 2.5k

➴ author’s note: this is pure fluffiness, the calm before the storm, the hughes being the best family in the world and jack making my heart MELT (i literally wrote him). i hope u guys enjoy this too. let me know what u think of this one:))

“AND that, my loves, it’s a wrap on ‘rip to my feelings’!” Grace yelled, and everyone yelled too.

You were in your studio with all of your producers and song-writers, plus Grace, and you had just finished recording the last song on your album.

You were beyond happy. Finishing this meant getting over everything Harris did to you. It was like closure. It was like restarting again.

“Guys, I’m so fucking happy, I love you all so much I could kiss you on the mouth right now,” you said, hugging John— the main producer.

“Don’t think Jack would appreciate that,” Grace mumbled when you hugged her, and you smacked her butt.

Jack.

You had sent him the demo of the album as soon as it was sent to your phone, not really sure why. You just wanted his opinion, that’s all.

Not much fuck buddy of you but whatever!

“Fuck off, Grace Morgan,” you fake whispered, laughing.

You all celebrated and laughed for hours, the time passing quickly whenever you spent it with the people you loved. You were grateful for having so many amazing people in your life, helping you to make your dreams come true.

Your phone rang, and you picked it up, unlocking it and smiling when you saw who had texted: Jack.

It was funny seeing how he complimented you in his own little, weird way. It made your heart beat in the wrong— right— way all over again.

“Did he just ask you on a date?” Grace whispered, probably reading your texts over your shoulder. Everyone else had already left— it was late, after all— and only Grace was left. You were sure she was probably going to sleep at your place anyway.

“I guess? We never just ‘hanged out’ before.” You sighed, replying to Jack’s texts.

“Woah,” she whistled, sitting back on the couch, looking at you funny. “Are you in love?”

“What?” You laughed, locking your phone. “What do you mean, we’ve been fucking for six months only. Chill.”

“Girl, like time matters to you!” She raised her arms. “You fell in love with that piece of shit in like three weeks, imagine with Jack, who fucks you every other week and treats you like you’re the most precious thing ever.”

“Excuse me? Are we talking about the same Jack?” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Jack doesn’t treat anyone differently. Besides his family, that is.”

“Like the shit he does for you isn’t anything special, right? Like knowing your Five Guys order, or your favorite movies, or how you eat apple pie before your concerts,” she started listing those things on her fingers.

“He doesn’t know those things!” You raised your voice, trying to convince both you and her.

“Girl, I love you but stop playing dumb. He knows and you know he does! Why are you pretending that he doesn’t care about you? He just asked you on a date, for fuck’s sake.” She rolled her eyes.

“First of all,” you started, mentally listing your reasons. “We don’t know if it’s a date. He just said: dinner. He didn’t say ‘I wanna take you out on a date’. Second of all, I’m not denying anything, but I think I would know if I was in love with him, wouldn’t I?”

Actually. The answer was probably no. Harris fucked up your perception of love, and even though it’s been more than a year that you broke up with him, you still feel like you can’t really trust anyone anymore.

So you wouldn’t exactly be able to tell if you are in love or not. At least, you don’t think so.

But talking about love with your fuck buddy? Hell. No.

“You piss me off.” Grace bickered, turning the TV on. “Go change to your little date. I’ll be here, all alone and sad.”

“Pff, shut up. You’re just alone because you and Nico are dumbasses.” You said like it was a matter of fact and left the leaving room, leaving a very pink Grace behind.

Changing didn’t take long, and applying a light makeup didn’t either. You weren’t going to do anything special because, let’s be real, if you and Jack decided to be reckless and fuck somewhere, that makeup wouldn’t last long. So, why bother?

You left your house, saying goodbye to Grace and kissing her cheek. Jack’s fancy ass car was in front of your garage and you smiled, entering it.

“Hi, Jackie boy,” you greeted him, noticing how fucking good he looked, wearing his burgundy suit. Thank god to whoever created the suit rule in hockey. You’ll forever be grateful.

“Hey.” He greeted back, and did something surprising. He kissed you. Softly, and not like any other kiss you’ve shared in the past.

And that didn’t do anything to help the little cardiac arrest you had every time you were around him.

“Are we ready to rock our lasagna?” You asked, half embarrassed and half confused with what you were feeling. Food always made it better though.

“We sure are.” He smiled before starting the car again.

The silence was comfortable but your thoughts were too loud so you took the liberty of turning the radio on, scaring yourself with how loud the music playing was. And, shockingly, your music. Already Over was blasting through the speakers.

You looked at him, and he just shrugged, cheeks red.

“Were you listening to my music on the way to my place?”

“Yeah, why not? It’s good,” he blushes so cutely you find yourself wanting to chomp a piece of his cheek.

“You’re so cute, Jackie. Thanks, means a lot,” you had a feeling you were blushing too, and you thanked God he wasn’t looking at you. “I’m excited to release it.”

“When are you doing it?” He asked, making a U turn.

“Beginning of the next month. Now I have to take pictures and set up the concept for it. It’s my favourite part.”

“Are you doing any music videos with a guy dying?” He asked and you stared at him, once again surprised. Had he been watching your music videos? All of them? “What?”

“Are you a fan?” You giggled, genuinely happy. Harris hated to talk about your work, and he never listened to your songs for more than ten minutes.

“Nico forces us to listen to your songs and watch your music videos,” he answered, nonchalantly. You smiled, nodding your head. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” You played dumb.

“Like that. You have this little minx stare that you do whenever you’re plotting something.” He smiled this time, and God if the sight didn’t make you feel full.

“You’re no fun,” you sighed, looking at the view. “Also, where is this restaurant? We’ve been driving for at least twenty minutes and nothing in Jersey takes more than that.”

“The restaurant is actually my parents’ house.” He says, like it’s nothing.

“What?!” You yelled, turning your head in his direction. “What do you mean you’re taking me to your fucking parents’?”

“Yeah. Ma’s making lasagna for you.”

Your cheeks were burning hot and you had this bubbly feeling inside of you. You were feeling something really weird and you started to wonder if Grace was right and—

“Soph?” You heard his voice, gentle and soft. You looked at him, noticing that he wasn’t driving anymore, and that the car was now parked in front of a big, beautiful, colonial house. His parents’ house. “We can go back if you want to, baby. Ma won’t be angry or anything like that.”

Stop making me want to trust you, Jack.

He caressed your cheek, and you snapped out of it. “No, it’s fine. I just… you could’ve said something, y’know? I’m wearing sweatpants.” You tried to make a joke, smiling. He smiled too.

“I’ll put on some sweatpants too, so we’re matching,”

“Right.”

You left the car, taking a deep breath. It was just his parents. You weren’t even dating so it would be fine.

Wait.

“What did you tell them? That you’re bringing one of the girls you’re fucking home?” You asked just before you walked in their property.

He raised an eyebrow at you, scowling. “First of all, I’m not fucking anyone else. It’s just you. Second of all, I told them I’m bringing a friend.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to do anything else.

He’s not fucking anyone else? Jack Hughes? The man whore of the NJ Devils?

Yikes, sure.

You both walked into the house, Jack not bothering knocking before entering it. A delicious smell of fresh tomato sauce and herbs reached your nose and you could swear your mouth was watering.

“Ma, we’re here!” Jack yelled, making you jump a little bit. You eyed him before facing the woman in front of you, who was absolutely gorgeous. She looked so fucking young and pretty, and you were biting your tongue, trying not to say something stupid. “Hi, Ma, this is Soph. Soph, that’s Ellen, Ma Hughes,”

“Hi, Mrs. Hughes. Nice to meet you.” You said, certain that your cheeks were on flame.

Ellen took a step closer, smiling. “Hi, darlin’. No need for formalities, dear, it’s just Ellen. I would hug you but,” she pointed at her apron and shrugged. “A bit dirty.”

“Thank you for having me.”

“No, thank you for making this guy over here visit me,” she slapped Jack’s shoulder, both of them smiling together. “He only called because he said you wanted to eat lasagna and he loves mine so that’s why he’s here.”

If your face wasn’t going to melt before, it definitely was now. You were going to kill Jack. For real this time.

“Come on, Ma, I can’t be worse than Luke and Quinn. They don’t even remember your address anymore,” was Jack actually pouting? Jesus. Your heart was not ready to see that.

“Stop throwing us under the bus, dickhead.” Luke’s voice was heard and you and Jack both watched as both Quinn and Luke entered the room. “‘Sup, Soph.”

“Hi, Luke. Hi, Quinn,” you greeted them with cheek kisses, not even wanting to acknowledge that you had actually missed them. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, Soph,” Quinn quietly answered, not a single thought behind those eyes. “Great to see you.”

“I hope you’re all hungry because your mom outdid herself tonight,” Jim, the dad, said, smiling when he noticed you. “Hello there. I’m Jim.”

“Hi,” you whispered, mortified with all the attention you were getting. Some would think that performing for big crowds would make you less anxious to meet people. Nope. “I’m Sophia. Thank you for having me.”

“It’s fine, as my baby was saying, we do need our son to visit more.”

As they discussed why Jack didn’t visit them more frequently, you felt Jack’s arms around your waist and his mouth on the tip of your ear. You froze. “Yeah, they call each other baby and honey. Sorry about that.”

You managed to smile, trying not to get his family’s attention. They certainly wouldn’t understand why he was this close to a friend.

“I think it’s cute.”

The dinner went awesomely well. The lasagna was amazing and Ellen and Jim were the cutest couple ever, you could see how they’ve raised three amazing men.

They asked questions about what being a postar meant nowadays, and what was it like during your tours, and how could someone sing and dance at the same time, and have you ever met Adele?

They’re great people. Even Quinn and Luke, who had talked to you before on different occasions, made sure you were included in every topic, and Luke even asked for a signed cap so he could wear it at UMich.

“Do you guys know what we should definitely do?” Ellen started, after forcing all of the boys to organize the kitchen and do the dishes, while you sat with her drinking wine. Yeah, you loved her. “Karaoke. Let Soph here show us how good she is.”

“Maa,” you could hear Luke whining, while running his hands through his beautiful curls. “You do this every time.”

“You’ll make her work on her day off? That’s wild, Ma.” Jack joked, putting his arms around your shoulder. You froze again, looking at the expressions of his family, trying to picture anything out of place.

No one was looking at you weirdly, besides Ellen who plastered the most gorgeous smile you’ve ever seen, which made you smile too.

“I don’t mind singing…” you said, softly.

“Perfect!” Ellen stood up from her seat, pouring more wine on her glass. “Jim, set the karaoke thing on.”

“It’s called YouTube, Ma.” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Leave your mom alone, ugly face,” Jim called him out, on his way to do exactly what Ellen asked. “Sophia, can you sing some Elvis?”

“Yes, ‘course.” You also got up, discussing with Jim which song he wanted you to sing.

“Tell her to sing our song, honey!” Ellen yelled from the dinner table.

“Ah, yes, yes.”

Turns out that their song is Can’t Help Falling in Love, which was so freaking sweet. You sang the romantic lyrics while Jim and Ellen danced with each other, swinging slowly and delicately.

Quinn and Luke were recording themselves with you singing in the background, while you waved happily to the camera.

Jack was sitting on the couch, watching you sing. You could feel his eyes on you, observing your every move, smiling whenever you’d hit a high note or change the song’s rhythm.

It was nice. So, so nice. The Hughes were such nice people and you felt so safe and adored around them. They asked you to sing more songs and when you noticed, you were singing an upbeat song with Jim and dancing between Quinn and Luke while Ellen filmed everything. Until Jack grabbed you again and made you sing in front of him, for him. And boy, how you wanted to kiss him. His blue eyes were shining brightly and he looked just as happy as you felt.

You ended the singing when it was around midnight, everyone exhausted and sweaty— even if it was winter.

You started saying your goodbyes and thanking Ellen and Jim for the best lasagna you’ve ever eaten and for the hospitality too.

“I hope you come back soon.” Ellen whispered in your ear when you were hugging her, and you held her slightly tighter.

When you left the house with Jack, you couldn’t contain your happiness inside you. Grabbing his arm, you pulled him until you were near his car, and standing on your tiptoes, you kissed him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, both of you moaning inside each other’s mouth. His tongue made its way inside your mouth, pillowy and so soft. You were finally melting into Jack’s arms and nothing could be better.

Until you realized what was going on.

You had just had dinner with Jack’s family, sang and danced with them, and now you were in the middle of the street of a fancy neighborhood, with Jack Hughes holding you close to his chest, while devouring your mouth.

And instead of not feeling anything, instead of keeping things casual, you were feeling everything. Each tiny part of every emotion there is in this world were making their way into your heart and, unfortunately, you didn’t want to take them out.

Because for the first time in more than one year, you wanted to feel.

[hmusunoo]

TXT AS ANGST TROPES - hyung line

pairings. ᝰ.ᐟ txt members x fem!reader synopsis. ᝰ.ᐟ txt as angst tropes warnings. ᝰ.ᐟ obviously angst tropes, cheating, unrequited love; I did only the hyung line because I'm lazy, let me know if you want tae and kai's too and ill make aa part 2 W.C.ᝰ.ᐟ 1.6k

𐙚 soobin - loss of feelings/cheating

the air in the room was thick as you sat with your head in your hands. scarred that you looked up and into soobin's eye you would know for sure that it was over. You weren't ready for that. mind, body and soul you knew you weren't ready for whaat you and soobin had built all these years to crumble, to come crashing down in an a single instant.

but you knew it was going to happen. you knew that it had to happen. you looked up a tear falling down your cheek.

more under the cut!

"when?" you asked, your voice breaking along with your resolve and your heart. "when did it happen?"

you weren't sure if you wanted the answer entirely. you weren't sure if you had just wanted him to lie to you instead, if you wanted him to tell you that he wasn't cheating and that everything was fine. luck had not been on your side, not now and not ever.

"six months ago" he whispered into out filling the void of the room "I'm so-"

"don't" your voice was stern trying your hardest to keep it together. he didn't deserve to see you break. "don't say you're sorry" soobin flinched at your harsh tone. it was tone you had never taken up with him before.

"I loved you. through it all I loved you" you seethed out. a red hot anger now coursing through your veins. it felt like he had taken a torch to your heart, sitting back to watch as you withered away to ash infront of him. doing nothing to extinguish the burn that he had caused.

"I didn't mean for this to happen y/n. it just did ok?" he had the nerve to sound angry as if he didn't ruin this beautiful thing you had created, he had the nerve to act like he wasn't the villain in your story. it had made you angrier.

you let out a laugh you heart racing as you stood from your seat. "you're unbelievable" you spit out at him. "you're seriously angry at me?'

"I'm not angry I just don't know what you expect me to say?" his voice has risen an octave, now standing in front of you.

"do you love her?" you asked him. it was a question that deep deep down you knew the answer to. aa question you didn't want to ask but for the sake of the closure you'll need, you just had to ask.

"y/n-"

"do you fucking love her soobin!" shooting had taken the very little energy you had and disintegrated it, along with your heart when he meekly answered "yes."

that's all you needed to hear.

𐙚 yeonjun - betrayal

"oh hun did you really think he cared about you, did you?" the words rang in your mind as you made your way out of the dorm apartments. the conversation you just had replaying in your mind like a rusty broken record.

the sounds of fast footsteps approached you closer and closer, you didn't turn to see who it was. you didn't need to you already knew who it was.

"y/n!" you kept your brisk pace, the tears falling from your eyes the wind smacking you hard in the face with a sting, that sting being nothing compared to the sting of what you had just endured in that small dorm room.

"please baby let me explain" you whipped your head around to meet yeonjun. he abruptly stopped in his tracks not expecting you to stop for him.

"don't you dare call me that. not anymore" you seethed at him, your heart thumping at tenfold as you stared at him.

"I need you to let me explain." he pleaded, a genuine look of desperation on his face. you couldn't let him pull you back in though, you had to keep your composure you wouldn't allow him to break you further, if that were even possible at this point.

"how could you possibly explain that yeonjun? you said it. it was right there in the recording you can't deny it."

"I had to say it-"

"don't give me that bullshit yeonjun. you told him that you didn't love me. that I had been a means of distraction for you. that everything we had been through this last year has meant nothing." the tears built behind your eyes threading to cascade like a waterfall if you didn't get yourself together in the next few seconds.

"he was forcing me to break it off with you y/n I had to make it seem like it wasn't serious so he would get off my back." and although his explanation made sense it still hurt, it hurt because he didn't pick you. he didn't stick up for you, for your relationship and that was a betrayal. it was a betrayal to who you were and what you did together. did appeasing his manager mean more to him then you did? it seemed like the answer was right here in front of you.

he was more worried about what his company would think then how you would feel in the aftermath of it all.

"I just wanted you to choose me" you croaked out, a defeat now settling deep in your chest. "and you didn't do that yeonjun, I don't know if that makes me selfish and to be honest I don't care if it does. I just wanted you to pick me." you breathed in a shake to your voice taking over. "now it's too late. I know full and well where your priorities lie and it's not with me. I can't settle for that."

𐙚 beomgyu - unrequited love

you had watched from a far beomgyu and the newest girl he had decided to bring around. he was your best friend, your longest friend. having fallen in love with him in your early teen years you continued with the same feelings years later. you had to suffer in silence as beomgyu brought countless girls around and soon after moving in with one another in university you had to hear as he fucked these girls into the wee hours of the night.

it was an excruciating feeling to say the least, something that you had endure for years on end. your feelings hadn’t gone unnoticed by the people around you. in fact most of your friends had commented pretty heavily on the longing stares and dramatic sighs you had sent beomgyu’s way.

they often made fun of how oblivious he was to it all.

in truth, you had started to become fed up in the feeling. you contemplated for years on telling him how you truly felt. hoping and praying he felt the same way. your friends had assured you that he had.

that he always looked at you the same way you did him. that his lingering touches and careful consideration for you was coming from a place of romantic interest. you were beginning to notice the tiny things as well, and at first you blamed it on your delusions. convinced that you were only trying to trick yourself into believing he loved you, but the proof was in the pudding and oddly enough you could see that it was true.

maybe he did love you the way you loved him.

so tonight, as you watched him with this random girl he had brought to your friend get together you decided you’d tell him. as soon as everyone left and was gone for the night. you knew beomgyu had an early morning class so this girl would not be staying, for that you were grateful.

You spent the rest of the night playing board games and trying your hardest to not look to long at beomgyu and nari (the girl he brought over) their sickly sweet cuddling had made you feel nauseous and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

Finally at around midnight everyone had decided to leave, saying your goodbyes had felt relieving. you felt as if you hyped yourself up enough to finally get this over with.

your heart was pounding in your chest but you felt ready.

"gyu.." you called out for him from the living room. he had gone into the kitchen to clean up the dishes from the night. "can we talk please?"

"coming!" he shouted from the kitchen before his footsteps were heard tumbling into the living room to join you.

immediately with one look to your face beomgyu could see that the conversation you wanted to have was a serious one. he sat down on the sofa urging you to sit besides him.

"I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to say it out right." You looked him over, studying him before blurting it out "I'm in love with you."

You held your breath for a moment, your heart thumping so hard you could feel it hitting the confines of your ribcage.

His silence had rendered you wary. your eyes searched his as he did his best to look anywhere but you.

"guy.." you trailed off once again.

"I-i' his stutter had made your heart sink. you had known beomgyu too long, you knew what was about to happen and truthfully you weren't ready for it.

you had expected this to go a completely different direction.

"I'm sorry" he said after a few minutes confirming all of your worst fears "I really like nari..I-i don't-" he cleared his throat looking down at his hands in his lap "I don't feel that way about you."

it was your turn to be silent. struggling to find the words to soothe the rejection you had just been handed. a single nod was all you could muster.

rising up from your spot on the couch you turned to look at beomgyu his eyes still not meeting yours. "I'm going to bed." you whispered walking away.

"y/n' you heard him whisper call after you; you ignored it.

taglist - @belovedhoon @st1llm0nster @blossommi

note - truthfully this is so bad and I know it. writers block is KICKING my ass.

[strangelysamantha]

doubt ☆

steve harrington x reader.

summary: after witnessing what he thinks is a friendly interaction between you and your ex billy, steve is left with a lot of doubt.

a/n: my master list is pinned on my page :). like and comment if you enjoy! i want to write stories you guys like, so please interact so i can keep the stories coming!! 🩷🖤

—————————————-————————

billy was right in front of you, his voice low. "look, i know we aren't supposed to be talking right now, but i had to see you." you stare at him, “i don’t really have any interest in talking to you.” he leans forward, “i know i hurt you. just please talk to me.” you frown, “what is there to talk about?” you hesitate, already nervous to even be standing in the same room as him. “i hate the way things ended. i just needed to see you one last time.”

you cross your arms unamused. “look i get that. but you ruined your chance with me the moment you fucked a random girl.” he sighs, his eyes pooling with sadness. “i know. i just needed some closure.” you roll your eyes at that, “well you won’t be finding that with me. you messed up billy.” he shakes his head. “i made a mistake, okay? i regret it, and im really sorry.” you look behind you, before glancing at him again. "billy, what's done is done. we can’t anymore, i’m sorry." you shake your head, attempting to leave the room. he grits his teeth, immediately grabbing your wrist. he squeezes deeply, making sure you can’t walk away.

steve just so happened to be walking by your third period class when he saw you standing next to billy. he couldn’t see your face entirely, but billy had a nasty smirk hung on his lips. he looked down and noticed that billy was holding your wrists. his stomach had a giant pit, his mind starting to rush with twisted imagery of you and billy. he had your voice in the back of his head, reassuring him that you wanted nothing to do with him. but seeing how close you two were standing only fueled the negative thoughts.

you remove your wrists out of his grasp, an ache starting to form, “i’m done here. i don’t know what you expected from me.” you look down, uncomfortable by the whole interaction. billy glances behind you and notices steve watching the interaction unfold. he knew he could use this to his advantage. he leans forward to whisper in your ear, the sight of this makes steve sick and he immediately rushes to the nearest bathroom.

“cmon, just one more time for old time’s sake?” he chuckles, you groan in disgust; “never in a million years.” with that you leave the empty room; heading to your next class. you wanted to tell steve about everything but you weren’t going to see him until lunch. the next two classes went unbearably slow, and it didn’t help that billy had ruined your entire mood.

at lunch you were cheerfully looking for steve. you missed him, and you only had so much time before you had to return to sitting in a boring classroom. you couldn’t find him in the building so you assumed he went out to his car. you left the school, quickly trying to make it to steve’s car.

you found him in the car, his eyes puffy with tear stains. your heart broke at the sight, you tried opening the door but it was locked. you knocked on the window attempting to get him to let you in, but you noticed he hesitated. you frown, confusion washing over you. you knock again, and he unlocks the car. you quickly hop in the car, pulling him into a hug. “what’s wrong stevie?” his heart pangs at the nickname, now feeling worse than when he was just alone. “nothing, i’m just stressed.” his lack of communication was new to you, usually he’d tell you everything, immediately, half the time you wouldn’t even have to ask.

“please talk to me.” you sigh, your hand resting on his knee. he looks down and noticed your wrists were red and discolored. “what happened?” you follow his eyes to your wrist, you awkwardly look around, “billy tried talking to me earlier. i kept telling him to leave me alone, and when i tried to leave he grabbed my wrists forcing me to stay put.” you frown now, “i just hate him. the way he acts like he’s above everyone. he can’t just get whatever he wants.”

steve half smirks, “you mean, whoever?” you lightly slap his shoulder, “i guess..” you drag out the last word rolling your eyes. “steve i so badly would have rather spent those 5 minutes with you. he honestly ruined my day.” you look back up at steve and remember what you had walked into. “but can we talk about you? what happened?”

he chuckles, wiping his tears. “well i kinda feel silly now.” you tilt your head, “why? what do you mean?” he sighs, “i saw you and billy talking. in that moment i figured it was mutual; like you guys were secretly meeting up.” your mouth opens in shock, “steve! no way would i ever willingly talk to billy.” he nods, “i know that now. i just wasn’t expecting it.” you look into steves eyes, your hand reaching for his. “i want to be yours steve. i want nothing to do with billy.” he grins, “so can i beat him up for putting his hands on you?” you scratch the back of you neck, “not trying to be mean, but your fighting track record isn’t the greatest…” he scoffs, obviously offended. “i need to protect you though.”

“thank you steve. and in any other circumstance i’d love for you to defend me and protect me, but with billy it’s different.” steve furrowed his brows so you continue, “if you provoke him it’ll get worse, he’ll know he’s getting under your skin. i don’t want to deal with him.” steve unfortunately understands and knows your right. “it would be nice though to teach him a lesson.” you smile at the idea of steve humiliating billy. “maybe one day, if he continues to egg us on, but for now can we just forget about him?” steve agrees.

you pull steve into a kiss, then you pull away to kiss his cheeks. “you’re just so cute steve.” he blushes at your words, avoiding your gaze. “i’m sorry for making you think that about billy.” he shakes his head, “it’s my fault. i should have trusted you better, i just let him get in my head.” you notice the time and realized your lunch break was almost over. “we have like no time left.” you frown. “wanna skip?” you bite your lip, contemplating his offer. “hmm why not?” he laughs, “yes! let’s go to mine, yeah?” you nod, “that sounds good!”

you lean back in your seat, your eyes glued to steve. he was so handsome and sexy. “i can’t believe steve harrington got jealous over me.” he laughs, “hey im sorry but i like you so now everyone you talk to will be judged by me.” you fight a smile, “as long as i end up with you at the end of the day, you can judge anyone you want.” he reaches over his free hand grabbing your thigh. “we need to ice those wrists.” you nod, “dr steve will you heal me?” he brings your wrist to his lips, “of course i will, baby.”

when you make it to steve’s he quick to get you settled. he changes you into one of his shirts, he gets you two bags of ice, and he even offered to take your shoes off when you arrived. you were so thankful for steve. “thank you for everything.” he sets up a movie. he pulls you into a hug, before cuddling you on the couch. “anything for you.”

[v7lgar]

@jegulus-microfic | cease - may 4 | 831 words @ecstarry @godsofwoes @bellaxisworld prev part next part

“You are unavoidable.”

They waited for each other to talk, but they didn't. James felt like fainting, or maybe that was the alcohol in his veins, who knows?

His mind was racing, he wanted to scream at him, he wanted to shake him until he pulled the words out of him. He couldn't do it, and he was never good with silence.

“Reg—”

“James, you are married.”

James closed his eyes shut, his words stank like a needle. He was right, of course. Fuck, he was right.

“I am aware.”

“Then what is the meaning of this?”

James was on edge, he was tiptoeing around the edge, and he knew he was going to fall into the pit anytime.

“Look,” he forced out the words, “Regulus, this isn't easy, okay?”

“I guess—”

“No, no. Don't fucking talk, okay? Just listen to me. God, you don't have any idea how hard it is for me to talk right now. I don't care if you don't talk, I don't care if you end up hanging up on me. I just need you to listen.”

Even though he expected him to talk again, Regulus didn't. He did what James said, he stopped and started to listen.

James took a deep breath and inhaled deeply, his eyes were still closed.

“It was a mistake to invite you to my wedding, I'm going to forever regret it.”

“Why?” Regulus asked, his voice was tiny, almost whispering and maybe he was hurt.

“Ever since then, I can't stop—” he couldn't say it, he couldn't admit it, he didn't want it to be true. Yes, he thought about it. But telling his feelings and thoughts was something else. He was going to make them real. He still didn't want it to be real.

But, at this point of this misery, what choice he had left?

“I couldn't stop thinking about you, about us.”

Saying out loud made it ten times worse but, he felt as if something lifted off his chest. Now he was sure that he should do this. It was wrong but he didn't care. For the last two years, this feeling ate him alive. He couldn't tell anyone, not to Sirius, not to his wife and for sure not to his parents. There was nobody but Regulus. He would understand, and even if he didn't, James had no choice.

“It's funny, isn't it? I was the one who broke up with you and got married but look at me now. Calling you because I have been bearing these thoughts every day for two years.”

“James…”

James took a sip of his whiskey and continued, “I know how this sounds, believe me, I know. I just— it's just—”

He began to laugh, squeezing the bridge of his nose, he felt everything in an unbearable amount. This wasn't fair, nothing was fair.

“James, calm down—”

“I CAN’T FUCKING CALM DOWN!” he screamed, “I CAN’T EVEN FUCKING BREATHE FOR THE LAST TWO YEARS!"

“I can't fucking breathe, and I tried. Fuck, I tried to stop thinking about you, I tried to forget how you tasted, I tried to erase the memories of holding you in my arms, but you are just— I can't shake you under my skin. The more I try to stop, the more I think about you. And this is— this is just— it is not fair, okay? Not fair, I have a wife for god's sake! A wife, Lily, my Lily.”

He didn't notice when he stopped laughing and started letting the tears down on his face, it was torture.

“You have your Lily,” Regulus replied with a dry voice, “Yet, here you are.”

“I am here, yes,” James said, “I am at your mercy, and I hate every second of it.”

He took a deep breath, “ I hate that telling you all of this is making me feel better. I've been suffering for so long, knowing that confessing my feelings to you is going to be my salvation. But this felt wrong, having all these feelings as a married man. I am fucking married, Regulus.”

“I am aware, James. I was there, watching you make your vows to each other. I was there, remember?”

“Why did you come? Why did you join my wedding, Regulus?”

“Because,” Regulus said, “I wanted closure.”

James slowly sank to the floor and palmed his face. He couldn't talk, it was impossible to function. Maybe doing all this was his way to destroy everything he had. He never considered himself as a destructive person, but now, all he could think of was shattering everything he had cared for, for Regulus. This had to cease to an end, he knew it, but he didn't have the heart for it.

“Did you?” James asked quietly, “Did you get your closure?”

Regulus waited for a minute.

“Yes,” he said, breaking James’ heart in pieces like he did to Regulus years ago, “I got my closure.”

James couldn't say anything in return.

[loveandleases]

This is all your fault! How would the ROs react to the MC sleeping with Chris after all they put them through? Crushing stage.

I will take the blame! Just gonna break our sweet babe's hearts over here. We getting angsty~ (Below the cut, because it's about 2k words.)

❤️ Cam - Why? After all that, why? What hold does Chris have on you? Do you still love them, do you miss them, did you just need someone? I thought things were finally fucking working with us. What does Chris give you that I can't?

The first thing Cam notices is how numb he feels, but that's not all there is. He feels like he's close to boiling over like he's about to lose it. Lose you, all over again. He wants to think it was a slip-up, an old habit or it was done to get closure. He can't bear the thought it's more, he can't, fuck that he won't. You two have been closer lately, in a different way, a way he's always hoped for.

"Please, just tell me why? That's all I'm askin'." his breath hitched between words. He tried to steady himself, but his words came out in a shaky whisper, lips trembling.

"I didn't," you try to collect your thoughts, try not to look at the redness of his eyes, the rising of his chest, the clenching of his fist. You try to swallow around the lump in your throat. "we were drinking. Then we were arguing, and then it just, it just happened." Cam squats down in front of you, his hand reaches for your own. His grip tightens around your hand, fingers entwining firmly with yours in a way that felt both protective and unyielding. His thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand, a subtle yet possessive gesture. His eyes lock onto your own, a mix of intensity and determination in his gaze.

The idea of the MC and Chris together tore at him, a visceral pain that made his stomach churn. "After everything?" he asked, his voice cracked, the raw vulnerability breaking through his anger.

His gaze bore into yours, a desperate plea hidden beneath the hurt. "You can't still want them," he says it more to himself than to you. "Please, please for fucks sake don't let this mean you want Chris." he's shaking. It takes everything in you not to grab him to comfort him, as you reach out he steps back, a mixture of pain in his eyes, pain and something else. "You're mine." he whispers, not breaking eye contact. "Not Chris's."

He searches your face, Cam has always claimed you in some way. His family, his best friend, is that what he means now? "Tell me it didn't mean anything," he whispers his voice barely audible. "Tell me you don't want them, because I can't stand the thought of losing you to Chris again. I can't."

💙 G - "Say it again." their voice is cold, as soon as you told them you slept with Chris you could see their wall go back up. So stoic, so detached, as if what has happened between the two of you over the past few months hadn't begun to thaw them out. Remind them of what you two had shared.

You begin again, meeting their hard gaze. "I said-" Before you're able to finish G turns and begins to walk out, but they stop. They stop, and they turn and they study you. Your face, your body, the way your breathing picked up.

"Where are they?" if you hadn't known G previously, you never would have noticed the change in their voice. The slightest change, that tells you they're angry. They're pissed, and they're going to do something about it. "Who?" "Chris." "At my...their.. their apartment. G what are you doing?"

They don their coat, and before exiting they turn to look at you over their shoulder. "Wait here for me, I'm settling this one way or another." They don't wait for an answer, because they know after everything that's happened, you'll wait. Just like they did.

💚 Kara - "What? No. No way, Chris wouldn't-"

"I wanted to tell you, I thought. Fuck, I don't know what I thought, but you needed to know."

She's pacing, curling a piece of hair around her finger, and mumbling to herself. "But Chris, why? It doesn't make sense alright, why after everything?"

"It just, I don't know alright. We were talking and I don't know, okay? It's like I felt all these emotions and I was angry and I just I don't know. In some fucked up way I wanted to do it to get back at Jade."

"Is that it? That's all there is, you don't still care about-"

Before she can finish you're shaking your head. You're quick to make that apparent to her. You were angry, you wanted to hurt them to hurt Jade, not Kara. That was never the intention.

"I need to talk to them. I don't, why would Chris do this? To Cam, yeah they would do this. But, to me?"

💛 M - They haven't said anything since you told them you had slept with Chris. You could feel their nervousness, with how they bounce their knee and tap their fingers along their thigh. "M-" "Thank you, for telling me. But, I-I don't understand why it happened. So.." They turn then, their eyes looking you over taking you in as you sit on the edge of their couch. "You fucked."

It catches you off guard, not because you haven't heard M swear before, but because they struggle talking about sex when they're writing it. "Wha-"

"Shit, fuc- I..sorry. I didn't mean to say it out loud." They mumble, voice shaky not meaning to let their thoughts slip out. At least not in front of you. "M it's not that sim-" "I'm not sure I want to know. I don't...want to think of the two of you, bodies hot and writhing and lips in places and-" M stands, hands pulling on the bottom of their sweater pulling it as they pace back and forth in front of the couch. "with them though? With them? I know it can happen, I mean I've written something like that happening," M looks you over, their brows furrowed. They speak in a rapid-fire rush, words tumbling over each other.

M's eyes dart around nervously, and they fidget with their hands, pulling at a piece of thread at the bottom of their sweater.

There is heat in their gaze, is it anger? Is it more? "I thought if you were going to fuck someone it would be m-" M slaps their hand over their mouth, stopping their pacing. They shake their head, as your eyes meet. Who, who would it be? M pulls their sweater up to cover the bottom of their face, the growing blush creeping up their neck to their cheeks. In a high-pitched voice, they yell "Excuse me!" before rushing into the bathroom. Groaning loudly "Fucking shit balls, damn it. Get it together."

💜 Isaac - You think for a second Isaac is going to say something, with the way their mouth opens. But, they say nothing instead running a hand along the back of their neck. "Well, I'm happy for you. I mean it's not like you're interested in anyone right? Not like we're serious or anything." They say it so effortlessly, or at least it sounds it. But really, it takes everything in them to say it. They don't want to get close, this just helps them not. Knowing you were with Chris, they have no right to care because they haven't made a move, not really. Yet it hurts, it fucking hurts and they don't want to admit it. No, must be the hours they've worked, they need sleep, they need time. To sulk, to be jealous, wait no..no. That's the last thing Isaac needs. "I..wouldn't say that." Isaac snaps around to look at you, "So you do care about Chris, after everything?" "No, no it was, I don't know closure in a way. We were arguing and Chris kissed me. That was their favorite way to end old arguments. It helped in a way, because a part of me would always wonder if leaving them was the right choice. Now I know." In a way, Isaac respects that. Because they never got that kind of closure, like a wound that never heals, always festering deep inside. "So..was it?" The question leaves their mouth before they can stop it, because damn it if they don't want to know. Was this thing the two of you have been trying to start worth it? Was it what you wanted? Do you finally know, that you want someone, someone standing right in front of you?

🖤 Ardent - He laughed, but there was no joy in the sound. It was a hollow, bitter laugh. His lips twisted into a grimace as he tried to mask his feelings.

"Why are you laughing?" "Because that's just how it goes isn't it? You and me, this twisted little game we got going on. I knew something was off because I know for a fucking fact I didn't put this on you." His large hand yanks the collar of your shirt over, the purplish mark still very much visible. You go to slap his hand away, embarrassed. You wanted to tell him, to be honest. Not because you wanted Chris, you drank you drank so much and Chris was there and you wanted to hurt them, hurt Jade. So you slept with Chris. Worst fucking decision ever. Ardent grabs your wrist, his eyes staring at the mark, at the reminder of what happened. You watch his tongue dart out to lick his lips, as he leans his head forward. "What the fuck are you doing!?" You step back, but he follows. Still holding your wrist, his other hand clinging to your hip. Your cheeks are red with your embarrassment. "Don't move." His voice is stern, as he shifts closer to you, pressing his body against you, turning your head to bare your neck to him. "Is this some weird ass kink of yours or something? Stop looking at it!" You press your hands against his chest but it only makes him growl. Sending a shiver down your spine, but not out of fear, much worse than that. Something you should probably talk to a therapist about. "If this is what you do to get my attention, then congratulations you have it. Every last fucking ounce. "I was drunk damn it. Not like I judge who the hell comes out of your apartment." "No one's come out since this shit started, and you know it. Only one other person comes in here that isn't me." His breath is warm on your neck, and it excites you. Sleeping with Chris wasn't meant to make Ardent want you more, but some fucking how, it did just that. You feel his warm tongue dart against the hickey, and it almost causes you to moan but you stifle it, the sound getting lost in your throat. You hear him snicker, as his teeth bite in just enough. A little bit of pain, with a little bit of pleasure, as he begins to suck. Marking over Chris's hickey. He lets go his lips making a loud pop as he pulls away. "Now, where is this shit stain?" "Wha-who?" You arch your brow and Ardent stares at you, not needing to say Chris's name. "Why, what are you going to do, punch them?" He smirks at you, pulling your hand away from the mark on your neck, his teeth marks marring your skin. "That's the first thing."

[chaosandmarigolds]

Among The Bullets

Chapter One, Part 2.

Summary: You're a transfer mechanic for a task force which you know nothing about, and while trying to figure out your standing with each of the members you begin to realize you may be over your head. (Evental romance, bear with me. Simon doesn’t know how to flirt but he’s trying ok??)

On your schedule, which you were fully planning on ditching once you got your footing, you had a meeting with the Captain of the team before dinner. Made sense in your mind, however, what didn’t make sense was how it didn’t tell you where to meet him- you assumed his office? Did he have an office? How would find said office within the labyrinth of rooms?  So, once again you found yourself very awkwardly standing alone within the bustling crowd, head bowed you looked over the tablet for any missing information. 

You still hadn’t eaten, your eyes were pleading for a moment of closure and your muscles ached for something other than a caffeine-dense drink; yet, there were things that needed to get done and once those things were done would be able to go on with your life. So, you ignored the lightheaded feeling, the grumbling of your stomach, and the throbbing headache, and was snapped back into reality by someone nudging your boot- in all fairness you knew it was innocent but you, with the past forty or so hours being a blur, were already high strung so with a spin on the heel you turned to face the person, fully prepared to bite their head off and tell them to watch where they were going. 

“For fucks sake man, can’t you’ fuckin-” Your words died on your tongue as you saw another one of the team members (who you weren’t technically supposed to know who they were, but twenty minutes alone in a military room full of computers and a lot of old guys with generic passwords of their wives names seemed too easy) if you remembered correctly this ones name was John or something, as was the Captains, but you made a mental note because this one had a nickname you found hilarious: Soap. A sergeant, above you nonetheless, only taller than you by two or so inches, but could throw your weight around. 

Well. If this was rock bottom then you would certainly take the chance to start crawling up, so you nod hello and once again hold out for him to take, this time (unlike the very mean Lieutant Riley) he took it. A firm grip as you spoke, introducing yourself, and then you clear your throat as you pull your hand away. He seemed nice, seeming to just read you while you began to ramble, “I’m a consult for the next assignment, from the engineering and mechanics…department or…something, sorry-um, I am looking for a Captain John Price, do you happen-”

“Oi, the Cap’n of’ic is-” 

“Oh my God.” The words just spilled from your mouth and if you had zero self-control you would've slapped your hand over your mouth to shut yourself up, but you did so you then began to explain your sudden interruption as he stared at you, “I- You- your voice-I just-I, I wasn’t expect-” His eyes were wide as you went on and you gulp down your embarrassment and motion to him,  “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- You, you were saying?”

The soldier seemed to be debating if he wanted to be offended or not but he ultimately let out a laugh, “Funny, ‘er funny, bonnie. Cm’on ‘ll take ya.” 

Funny? Well, you would take funny over having another military man out for your blood, so with a small nod you follow beside him, the silence between you both seemed to be deafening until he then spoke, a small nudge to your arm (it almost sent you to the ground but you’re praying that he didn’t notice that part). 

“Gotta be nice to th’ ol’ man, got-chit?” 

You blink a few times to let the words soak in and with a sharp breath you laugh briefly, “I…he’s thirty 37? I highly doubt that’s old, well if he’s old I’m middle-aged-.” 

John gave you a look and then spoke, “Ho’ you know tha?” 

Oh, again with the information…. “Educated guess?” 

“Off what?” 

“The..” can’t say pictures, definitely can’t see you saw all of their medical files during your twenty-minute deep dive, it would be a lie to see you’ve met the man before so you just motion around vaguely, “Vibes. Mmhm, the vibes, just…I knew. From….” He was just watching you, it made your stomach turn and somehow you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, “The vibes.”

John nodded and then knocked on the door, shoving his hands in his pockets and when the door opened he looked to the Captain, “You foun’ us a witch.”

“No-” You try to correct the sergeant but he turns and begins to walk away from you, leaving you with what was going to be your death because now you have a Lieutenant who just hated your guts for no reason and now you have a sergeant who thinks you're a witch. Oh the stories you would be going home with, so you take a breath and straighten your posture, looking at the captain. 

From what you read up on Captain John Price you knew about two things: one, he got his rank for a good reason, and two: he likes smoking (his medical files said so) However, when you looked up at him and held out your hand for him to shake he looked bit too nice for your liking, he gave the impression of an older brother, someone nice, as nice as any person can be within the military- which would be a staggering change of pace from the other people you’ve met thus far, so with a shining smile and shake of the hand your introduce yourself and follow him into the office. 

“Forgive Johnny,” Price begins and motions for you to sit down in one of the not-so-comfortable-looking chairs across from his desk, “He’s…well, you see. He means well.” 

“Ah,” You fake understanding and nod as you obey and sit down, hands neatly placed in your lap and your eyes quickly scan the area around you,  “No, yeah, Sergeant MacTavish seem-” 

“Mmm?” 

Your gaze snaps back to the Captain, panic rushing your bloodstream as you realize you did it again, the third time in the past two hours. So you choose to play dumb, pulling your lips together in a line and tiling your head, praying that your doe eyes were believable (they were, just not to him, and certainly not at that moment)  “Yes, sir?” 

There seemed to be a moment of silence before Price motioned to the tablet that sat in your grasp, “Basic information you’ll need will be downloaded at 22 hundred, no need to break any laws for names.” 

A small gulp and you look down at the tablet which you had spent the last ten minutes fiddling with, the edges of the leather cover already frayed, “I see, is there-” 

“The mechanic on base was killed a few days back, which is why you were picked up early. You’ll also receive his daily tasks and his reports, work is a bit clogged so I suggest you geta jump onit..”

As much as you tried to keep your expression unfazed by the news that the person who used to have your job is now dead, the way your eyes went slightly wide was a good indicator and you cleared your throat a sound coming from you being more like a nervous laugh, “Th…The head mechanic? How many-” 

“Just you.” 

What. There had to be at least a hundred trucks in that garage and then the planes upon that, the helicopters, all on one person? You had to hold back an audible laugh as you tried to read his expression because that had to be a joke. It had to be a joke. Sure, you were the best of your trade that even the military wanted to trade you for other things to help other world militaries and yeah you were good at what you did but you…a sum of 178 vehicles? That would be a stretch, and that was only if it was basic maintenance- not war-run vehicles that were sure to have a plethora of things wrong with them. 

When you realize he was dead serious your face falls from the polite half-smile you had and into one of mild annoyance, scoffing, “You do realize I’m not a superhero right? Can’t multiply myself?”

Price seemed entertained by your snippy words returning with a stern nod and his words harsher, he knew you didn’t understand ranks or anything along that besides a very basic ‘be polite’ standpoint, after all, you essitantally worked for yourself for the majority of your life and any person who held a higher rank most like respected you so…he might as well go a bit easy on you, yet it didn’t stop his tone being bitter, “Be respectful, and I assumed so.”

Okay, you didn’t mean to be disrespectful, so that was on you You direct your gaze to your lap and let out a huff of air, “I apologize, sir. However, I am just one person there is no earthly way I can complete what I assume to be a list of daily tasks on over seven hundred vehicles within a twenty-four-hour frame, if I had a second pair then perhaps, I am fully aware of my limits and this is beyond them. I can maybe complete a third of what you expect me to do within a twenty-four-hour window, much less if you expect me to keep to a twelve-hour shift…sir.” 

A stiff silence followed by a gruff laugh, nudging a sheet of paper over to you, and by the look on his face he could tell the memory attached to it was less than pleasant, “Good communicator, they had that underlined in your file. Along with that they had your mission from Snezhihnsk. You were able to reverse engineer twenty-four foreign trucks within ten minutes, and from what the General said is true…those things were no more than scrap metal.”  

It would be a lie if you didn’t remember that day, it would be a lie if you wished you could forget it as well. Barely twenty, new to the field, new to everything- you were still in college, yet you had been picked up from your dorm and shipped to Russia, being told that you would go with these soldiers and that your own job was to take a piece of a machine they needed to be demolished. Needless to say, that mission went sideways, found some insane laboratory, and saved the inmates, or that's what you like to believe…After you fixed the trucks there was a bombing and everything else was a blur. You preferred to not think about that day, and you hope he would catch onto that. 

“Adrenaline makes the body do some pretty insane things, sir.”

“Then I suggest you find a way to get a dose of it, the list of tasks and maintenance requests are already on the tablet.” He watched you nod and move to stand up however, he preferred to end the meeting with you note being salty about everything so he chose to speak again, “How do you like the barracks, don’t mind sharin do ya?”

Your breath catches in your throat and you look to the captain, confused by the words, you had been given your own room, well more like an office, but it had a sofa bed. So you tilt your head, “Lieutenant Riley took me to a room, said that’s where I would be staying.” 

Price processed the words for a moment, “37A?”

You falter for a moment as you try and remember the room number as you move to stand facing him, “Yes, sir.” 

“I see, my mistake then,” It wasn’t, he knew what the room used to be and more importantly who it was. “Thought it was still used as office.” 

A small pause and then you nod your head, “I better go get started.” 

“Dismissed.”

; 

“And…why haven’t I seen her? I wanna see her.” Kyle questioned Johnny as he followed him as they walked to the table, nice and tucked away in the corner of the mess hall. Of course, he was the last one who heard of the new consult, and it being a female piqued his interest all the more, it was a rare day when they would see female soldiers on this base, so he was especially interested in seeing how a civilian would fit in. However, Johnny was giving him vague words like ‘she’s nice’ or ‘I like her jus’ fine’ meanwhile Simon seemed to just be staring at the door, waiting for something. 

Johnny flashes Kyle a beaming smile and sits down, looking over the tray of food which he didn’t truly find appealing but it would be alright he supposed, “An’ you will, L.T said she’ gunna join us for dinner.” 

To that news Kyle frowned even more and grabbed his cup, “Ghost met her to? How is that fair?”

“Eh!” Johnny snipped back at his buddy, “I foun’ her lookin loss as a pup, L.T was ‘er welcome, maybe if ya did ‘er job ‘stead of holin up ya woulda gotten ta’ see ‘er.” 

Kyle looked at Simon and then back to Johnny, waiting for one of them to say that was a joke and it was actually the other way around because if Simon welcomed the consult then it would be reasonable to assume they wouldn’t actually have a consult and that the person had run away, he would have. Well…no, he would’ve stayed to spite him, either way, he wouldn’t be shocked if the next morning they would have some other mechanic wandering the halls. So, after a few moments of silence and neither of them broke into laughter over the joke he let his mouth go agape, “You’re fuckin with me, Ghost was the welcome wagon. Scared shitless is what she was!” 

Among other things they were pretending didn’t happen Kyle added that he pretended to not notice Simon’s glare over to him on the remark and then sat up straight. Simon looks down at his watch and then makes a mental note that you must just be late to everything, because it was twenty after what he had told you- or rather your schedule- to be there for dinner, and he wasn’t exactly in the mood to wait around. Well, either you were late for everything or you had aptly passed out as soon as he left you- yet that would go along with Johnny’s claim that he had found you standing in some obscure spot, making fun of his accent, and then following him to Price’s office. So maybe you went to sleep after that? 

Either way, he wanted to be angry with you for that, it was unprofessional and bluntly very rude, but you did loot tried when he saw you get off the carrier, and you seemed worn slick just by the way you held yourself, eyes with dark circles and your body moved with each breath. You needed rest, so a small part of him seemed to be content with that notion, if not pleased- purely because the mission needed your undivided attention and he did not have time to catch you up on briefings and help you in more ways than what he has to do. No other reason. 

Conversation seemed to die down as minutes wore on and after about fifteen more Simon had resigned to his original assumption, you had fallen asleep and so that meant he would have to go to his-your room and wake you up. So without a word being spoken to Johnny or Kyle he stands up and walks to the room, which was only about two or so minutes, and it would’ve been less if some stupid idiot of a rookie had gotten out of his way in a timely manner. So, when he did reach the room he knocked on the door, waited for a few moments, and then tried again, this time being greeted by you peeking out from behind the door and then flashing a smile up at him. 

“Lieutenant Riley! I’m sorry about dinner, I had to come back here after my meeting with the captain and I needed to change into-” Your words falter off as you open the door more and vaguely motion to the ruined pair of cargos and black teeshirt (black so no one would see the mess of stains on it),  in your hand you held a five-hour energy shot and in the other an energy drink you found within a vending machine somewhere, “This. Is…Is there something you need help with?” 

It took him a millionth of a second to realize what you were doing, and he shakes his head, “You ‘ere late.” That wasn’t enough because you just nodded and then picked up a small tote bag, filled with what he assumed to be tools judging by the sound- which raised the question of why you didn’t have toolbox but he was going to leave that be for the moment and he…for some reason, found himself speaking again, stepping aside so you can walk out of the room as he did, “Ya met Johnny.” 

With a bite of the tongue, you look up at the Lieutenant as you walk down the hallway and to the garage, tablet sprayed across your hand and the list pulled up for a refresher, so as you walk you nod, “Yessir, he seems very nice.” Simon narrowed his gaze on the ground for a moment as he thought about what you said, which did align to some degree with what he knew about Johnny but not quite right, so he looked at you, “Is that so?” 

“Oh, no, he’s…very pleasant.” You mutter out, eyes going across the hangar to spot what you assumed to be the mechanic's workbench, tucked away in a neat corner, and an assortment of tools and places for things to be placed, as well as the control panel for the garage doors, so you pick up your speed. Finishing off the remainder of the energy drink and tossing it in the trash can as you set your bag down. Staring at the list that shined up at you the cursed tablet as you ran your hands down your face, stretching the skin with a grumble. 

For the time you started at the list, you seemed to forget the Lieutenant was nearby, and when you did finally remember you spun around, leaning against the bench and crossing your arms, blinking the fatigue away from your eyes and plastering a faux smile on your lips, “Again, Lieutenant Riley, what can I do for you?’ 

“What do ya on ‘yer hands?” 

“Checkups.” You chirp, and then to his eyes narrowing from the hidden holes of the mask you go on, “Routine maintenance, plus some since the last is…dead.” 

“Mm, Rusty, poor fellow.”

A stifled laugh and then you bring your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from laughing, it wasn’t that funny it wasn’t funny at all actually and you felt like a horrible human for even chuckling, but you were exhausted and- “Rusty?” You take a deep breath to keep your laughter at bay and you gulp down, “Your mechanic's name was ‘Rusty’??” 

“It was Robert actually.” 

You did your best to stop laughing and gulp down the remainder of the giggles that threatened to interrupt your words and you cross your arms tightly over your chest again, “Mmmm, poor Robert.” 

“Quite. Well, ‘ll leave ya to it.” 

Odd man, you mentally quipped to yourself and then watched him walk off, not waiting too long before turning back to the workbench, within the next forty-eight hours you had to perform eighty-nine maintenance checkups, seven of which as ‘odd sounds’ coming from them and sixteen others who had ‘severe shell damage which affects the ability to steer’. Then you had to get working on the jets- less of your forte but you knew enough to handle yourself and then the helicopters, which again was less than you commonplace but you were able to get the job done.It was going to be a very long time. 

However, you then spent two hours figuring out where everything was, how to get the trucks there for you to work on and then how on earth this Rusty man had his files and tools organized, it was all like a hen house, everything everywhere. So, at the moment when the sun began to set you were pushing a crate across the garage, it was filled with parts, and for some reason, the idiot thought it was a good idea for it to be where all of the plane tools were when they were car parts but… You were trying to refrain from mentally scolding a dead man. 

The crate has at least two hundred pounds of metal so when you got it to the spot you wanted you slumped to the ground heaving for air and leaning your head against the wooden box, waiting for a long moment before you let yourself close your eyes for a moment, and it was truly only a moment because you opened them when you heard someone stands in front of you. With a small breath you crane your neck up to see the person, another solider, another person on the team, so you push yourself up to stand as you introduce yourself, once again, “Hi, I’m sorry, resting my eyes- can I help you S-” 

No, don’t make the same mistake again so you end up clearing your throat, the man giving you a sweet smile,  as he let your hand,  “Gaz.” 

That’s not his name, his nickname, yes so you had to bite back your urge to correct him on his own name, so with a clear of the throat you straightened your posture, “Nice to meet you, can I do anything for you?”

“No, no, just wanted to make an’ introduction.” Kyle spoke as he took a short step away and then motioned to the newly reorganized space, “Nesting?”

With a glare, you stifle a laugh and shrug your shoulders, “No. Just…if you do a job, do it to the best of your abilities, you know?” 

Kyle nods as if not believing a word you said, “Gotcha. Well, I wanted to say hi and make sure you weren’t too shaken up by Ghost.” 

It took you a moment of dumbly staring at an obscure tool as you tried to figure out who he was talking about when it clicked, you looked to the sergeant, “Liuetant Riley! Uh,” you laugh and run a hand through your hair, leaving it on the nape of your neck for a moment, “He…he’s a little scary sure, but he seems kind.” A lie through the skin of your teeth, the Lieutenant somewhat terrified you, and he did not seem kind if anything he seemed beyond condescending to everything you did thus far.

“Mmm,” Kyle seemed to not believe your words again and then patted your shoulder, “Well, goodnight, girly.” 

That triggered something, and it made you a bit sick that it did but blood ran hot for a second. You quickly bite back by saying your name, full name and everything, not leaving out the middle and making sure the last held a nice dose of venom to it, making the sergeant turn around to face you with a confused look on his expression. So you say your name again, “That’s my name, not ‘girly’ not ‘miss’, not ‘kiddo’ not ‘lass’ not ‘bonnie’ or whatever the fuck he called me, my name.” 

There was a stiff silence and you let out a huff of air, sighing, drooping your shoulders, “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m sorry- I’m tired, I…shouldn’t have snapped at you, you…you’ve been nothing but kind, I-” 

Kyle says your name to tell you to shush up, “I apologize, you have a name, I’ll be sure to use it.”

A small smile appears on your lips and you nod, “Thank you, sir.” 

“Don’t…no, don’t call me that, Gaz, call me Gaz.” 

You laugh at his return and put your hands in your pockets, “Kay, you call me by my name and I call you by yours, that sounds like a pretty fair deal to me.” With a smile still on your expression you say your goodnights and then stand still for a moment, looking down at your boots as you think, this Gaz character was actually pleasant, he seemed nice to where you wouldn’t have to lie when asked about him. 

After a few minutes you turn around and walk back to the workbench, everything as you put it, tablet turned off but leaning against an out-of-use carburetor and everything seems just so. To the sight you were content, because that meant you could get started on the mountain of tasks you had lined up, and you looked over the scene again, grabbing your gloves but faltering when you saw the flipphone that had been sitting beneath it. 

They had made such a point to take your phone, ensuring no outside contact.

So you look around the hangar again, yet, because of the time there is close to no one there, you even peek out the door into the darkness of the airfield. Yet again, nothing. 

You stare at the piece of technology for a moment and it then begins to buzz, but only twice, indicating you got a message- well not you, but the phone did.

Hesitantly you reach to grab it, flipping it open, being met with a simple message- 

Awaiting orders, prepared to receive? 

Another look around the hangar and you quickly type a response.

Yes.

(Comments and feedback make my day! Thank you for reading!)

[renranram]

could you make a fic where jschlatt slowly realizes hes hopelessly in love with reader :D

Confusing

sfw + fluff

hopelessly in love schlatt with top student fem!reader

a/n: hahahahaha hi guys

this started ever since both of them became classmates in highschool, schlatt’s not a really huge fan of y/n, she's the star of the school for fucks sake, great grades, always in events, a model student, while he's just there

he felt like he didn't belong to be in the same class as her, he felt like he wasn't worth it to be her classmate, he felt shitty, that's where he started to avoid you

every time you try to initiate a conversation, a discussion for group projects, or just small chats in general, he'd run away, it made you get confused, making you think he dislikes you

you try to brush it off everytime, thinking he's just flustered or going through something, but he kept on doing it, so you finally gave up

it's been months since you two properly talked, schlatt was confused, why did she suddenly stop? he thinks, and slowly but slowly he was the one who started chasing after her, again

the man was even confused about his actions, unaware why he was the one chasing her, he didn't understand but the man would give out gifts in her locker

and you, of course, was confused by his sudden change, you thought it was weird so you brushed it off

schlatt himself was hurt, but it got worse, the boy glances at you, talking to another male classmate, giggling as you had your arm around his shoulder, making jokes and giggles

he felt genuinely hurt, jealous, upset and annoyed, but of course he didn't understand why he was feeling this way, it shook him

that's where he realized what he was really feeling, love, he fucking loves you holy shit, this… that's the explanation why he's been seeing you in his dreams, jealous whenever you're with someone, afraid when you're near, it all suddenly makes sense to him

while you… you were confused, flabbergasted by the gifts as you decided you want some sort of closure or an explanation of his sudden avoidance and now this

so there were you two, standing in the rooftop as schaltt pants, trying to calm himself from running all the way here

“ jay.. let.. let me just cut straight to the chase “ you mumble as you sigh, “ why? “ you ask, staring at him with confusion and longing

“ huh? “ schlatt asks, “ why what? “ repeats

“ why did you suddenly started avoiding me? then started pulling out this act after… like months? “ you ask, pulling out a crocheted bear, a gift coming from him

“ … “ he pauses, he didn't want to confess so suddenly, he just finally realized his feelings and now you're confronting him?

“ i just- i just dont understand… do you hate me or something like that? “ you continue, “ you're just so confusing “

“ y/n- “

“ do you hate me about something? did i do something wrong? i dont remember doing anything bad to you “ you continue with your rant as schlatt clenches his fist

he takes a deep breath as he pulls you for a sudden kiss, grabbing you by your cheeks, your lips touching eachother

your eyes widened, as you slowly melt into his touch as you slowly kisses him back, having to tiptoe just to properly reach his height

the two of you smack your lips together for a few seconds before schlatt pulls away, gasping, “ im so fucking sorry “ he mumbles, chuckling awkwardly

“ it's just.. fuck.. i.. like.. no i fucking love you okay? it's just… i realized it too late, i mean just fucking look at you, you're in our school's every poster, you win tons of shit, you have great grades, you're everything and i feel so… unworthy just to be near you.. “ he confesses

“ i thought i hated you, i thought i dislike you but it was the fucking opposite “ he chuckles, looking away as he scratches the back of his head

“ jay.. “ you mumble, “ fuck.. i really thought i did something wrong to you “ you pull him for a hug, “ i.. i uh.. love you too schlatt.. “

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

TUA Tumblr Simulator pt. 1

Find more here: pt. 2

—

🪩traumallama Follow

The Umbrella Academy never should have existed. Those were CHILDREN!! They were THIRTEEN when they first appeared! They KILLED people! Two of them DIED! It really goes to show how much you can do if you have money

FUCK Reginald Hargreeves

🌺thinkingthings Follow

Wait 5 DIED?!

🪩 traumallama Follow

It was never confirmed, but honestly, seems the most likely that they would have just covered it up. If he's still alive, I hope he got to live a nice life without that cult

10,846 notes

💗L0veOnLo4n Follow

Every journalist, interviewer, fan, whatever, who is asking Allison Hargreeves about her brothers or her father should just be sent to space. How would you like it if I bring up your childhood trauma constantly?

🌫️love-h4te-whatevs Follow

Didn't she like kill people?

💗L0veOnLo4n Follow

She was a CHILD! It was all planned by their father, he was the one who "trained" them. He should go to prison but that won't ever happen. Not to mention he didn't just adopt those children, he bought them

3,245 notes

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

WE GOT A BEHIND THE SCENES UMBRELLA ACADEMY BOOK OWNDNAOWOE

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

I am so excited to go read this

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Starting off: WOW Reginald Hargreeves was an even bigger asshole behind closed doors. Who would have thought?

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Okay, okay okay WHAT WHAT WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!!

ALLISON Hargreeves and Spaceboy were IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER?!

WEREN'T THEY LIKE SIBLINGS?!

I know the book says that they weren't really a family... But they were?? They are clearly described as brothers and sisters?

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Had to put the book down for a while

Gosh, that so surprised me

I used to have the BIGGEST crush on Spaceboy but now I doubt I can think of them the same way ever again

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Calmed down, I'll continue now

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

BIG MISTAKE, BIG MISTAKE

WHY ARE YOU TELLING US ABOUT THE TIME YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU AT DINNER THAT YOUR BROTHER HAD HIS FIRST WET DREAM!

That does NOT belong in a book!

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Drug addiction by age 13, damn

🌕eyestothesun Follow

Wait who was addicted to drugs

🌨️twirlingandwhirling Follow

The Séance. Kinda surprised so many people are shocked about this. There are quite a few interviews with them in which it is just blatantly obvious. Look at his eyes in this one for example. Or in this one he is so chill, not really there, but his siblings do all the talking

🌳drrrrreams Follow

Wow first time I've heard about this but this is so... Incredibly sad.

👥lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

Honestly? I'm more surprised that not more of them are addicts after all they've been through

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Thanks for the additions!

Five's tragical disappearance. This is the worst part of it by far. They were so close and you can just feel the grief. And to never know what happened, damn

And one of their brothers can see dead people...

I don't know if I'd want to ask him or not. Asking for closure's sake, but if you don't, there is still hope that he'll come back some day.

This is just so sad

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Spoke too soon, it can get sadder

Ben was their glue, his death was so brutal. He died so young and so painful, I can't imagine what that must be like. For him or for the siblings.

No wonder they disbanded after that. It makes you question your own mortality

8,799 notes

🚵rolly-molly Follow

Wait what happened to Spaceboy? Did he give up on missions and move out?

🤺theyseemen0t Follow

He died

🚵rolly-molly Follow

WHAT

🤺theyseemen0t Follow

I mean, it was never confirmed, but he got really badly injured on his last mission, lethally, and hasn't been seen since

🚵rolly-molly Follow

I had no idea. Rest in Peace

🍇thelandbeforewine Follow

False news, he got injured, but he survived. Otherwise we would have known about it from "Extra Ordinary" which came out last week, given that all the other family secrets were shared in it.

🚵rolly-molly Follow

Ohh, thank you so much! That makes me really happy, I was really worried

2,840 notes

[scoops-aboy86]

Last Party of the Summer

Prompt Used: Pool party (@thehairandthebanished) and make-up sex (@steddiesmuttyseptember) | Last Party of the Summer | Rating: E | CW: hurt comfort, weight gain, body image issues, mildly intoxicated sex | Additional Tags: chubby Steve Harrington, miscommunication, breakup to makeup, makeup sex

also on Ao3

It’s hard to keep tabs on someone at a crowded pool party without being obvious about it, especially while working at getting drunk. But Steve, pausing to shotgun another beer, thinks he’s doing pretty good all things considered. He’s not glaring literal holes through Ed— through Munson’s stupid leather jacket, at least, so he can’t be that obvious. Even Tommy hasn’t commented on it, and Tommy isn’t one to notice things and not run his mouth, so there you go. 

He’s not being obvious at all. 

Then, out of nowhere, Eddie emerges from the crowd and uses a firm grip on his upper arm to propel him from the side of the pool back inside the house. Steve hadn’t even realized he’d lost track of the guy among their peers, which only adds to the unreal feeling of being frogmarched up the stairs and into his bedroom, ringed fingers burning like a brand through the sleeve of his t-shirt. 

“Alright,” Eddie snarls after kicking the door shut behind them. “You are the one who ended things, so what’s your fucking problem, Harrington? Mad that the riff raff got in to supply this dumb shindig with party favors?”

Indignance kick-starts Steve into scowling and yanking his arm away, crossing them across his chest. (But also, hearing his last name roll off Eddie’s tongue when just a few weeks ago he’d been ‘Stevie,’ ‘baby,’ ‘sweetheart’ makes something twist painfully in his chest.) “Watch what you’re calling dumb, Munson. You’re the one who snuck in uninvited.”

“It’s called working. It’s what some of us have to do when we don’t have daddy’s money to fall back on!”

The words make Steve take a sharp step back, because Eddie knows his parents throw money at him as though it’ll make up for never being around, never paying much attention to him unless there’s something to scold him for. How he’s gotten checks in the mail after making the winning shot or run or lap in an important match or getting a good grade on a big test, but they’re never there to actually see any of it; how he feels more like an employee or an investment than a son. 

And maybe it’s because he’s toeing the line of drunk, but his eyes sting. A little. 

“That’s a low fucking blow, freak,” Steve sneers, blinking hard. His crossed arms tighten further over his chest like he’s trying to keep something from breaking out, and he doesn’t care about the way Eddie’s face twitches. He doesn’t! “But I guess that’s par for the course with you, isn’t it? Never pull a single fucking punch.”

“I’ve pulled plenty,” Eddie sneers right back. 

Which is. Oh. That’s worse. 

“Why can’t you just leave me alone, huh?” And Steve can hear his voice going humiliatingly tight, there’s just nothing he can do about it. Fucking beer. “I told you to go, what’s the point in dragging me up here just to rub it in more, huh?”

Almost worse, what if someone had noticed them going up the stairs together? He could’ve withstood that before, when they were still… But now Steve is all alone, painfully unwanted even by the town loser, who must have pulled his punches long enough for the sake of getting laid for a while, just like all the girls who had ever found Steve wanting after a few dates. All he wants is his own sad business to stay pathetically his own, but Eddie just had to be out selling tonight. 

“Maybe I just wanted a little fucking closure, Steve.” Eddie leans back against the closed door, like he’s trying to get as far away as possible without leaving the room, glaring. There’s nothing soft in those eyes now, not anymore, not even as he says Steve’s first name instead of his last. A concession? No, it must just be a lapse. A lingering habit of familiarity, soon to be broken. “You kicked me out without any warning, and now you’re following me around with this look like I’m the one that did something wrong. Rub in what? What the fuck did I even do?”

Steve feels his jaw drop. “What did you do? Are you stupid or something?”

They’d been in Steve’s bed, plaid comforter kicked to the floor in their hurry, too wrapped up in each other to give even half a shit about the chaos of sheets around them. And maybe Steve had been a little self conscious about taking off his shirt that night, because it was between sport seasons and he hadn’t been keeping up with his workouts lately, too wrapped up in Eddie and shared joints that set his mind free from what Eddie called the ‘shackles of conformity.’ He’d still done it, stripped as eagerly as if he’d never noticed the way a few extra pounds had gone to his ass and belly lately. Because surely Eddie wouldn’t care. It was conformity to worry about that kind of shit so much, and Steve was trying to be better. To be someone Eddie could not just like, but respect, too. 

At first it was fine. Eddie pounced on him like he usually did, with a demanding kiss before lavishing attention on the constellations of Steve’s moles that lead from check to neck and further. He latched onto a nipple, teasing at the quickly tightening bud with teeth and tongue until pulling back in satisfaction and diving for the other. Then further down, raking his blunt, black-painted nails down Steve’s sides until he reached his waist, gripping… then, unusually, pausing. And then, then he’d—

“You laughed at me,” Steve spits, and oh god his eyes are really stinging now. That’s all he’s got, that four-word complaint, but it’s anything but little. Humiliation and hurt and shame coiling in his gut and making all the beer he’s downed tonight churn unpleasantly, because he’d been stupid to think that what they’d had wasn’t as superficial as everything else in this stupid town that Eddie wants to ditch the second he graduates. Everyone knows what the Freak of Hawkins High thinks about jocks. Probably sits around snickering to himself in his free time about how Steve’s let himself go—

“When the hell did I laugh at you?” Eddie is still pissed, still scowling at him, but there’s an undercurrent of bewilderment in his voice. (Steve recognizes it from the time he’d tried to explain the rules of baseball.) “Before or after you shoved me off, bare ass fucking naked, and told me to get my shit and get lost?”

“Before!” Steve can’t believe this. What is Eddie trying to do here, pretending he doesn’t know? “Right before that! When you… felt my stomach.”

Face burning at the admission, Steve is looking anywhere but Eddie and doesn’t know what to make of the sputtering noise at first. Until the lack of response gets to him and he glances, then focuses, then frowns, the tight cross of his arms loosening infinitesimally in distraction. 

Eddie is just… standing there, pointer finger held aloft in a ‘hold on a second’ gesture, his other hand pressed hard against his mouth and his eyes downcast in deep thought. 

It’s the same thing he does when he has a light bulb moment about a new plot point in a campaign and is trying to sort out in his head how all the threads of it mesh with what’s already there. The recognition makes Steve’s heart ache, regardless of how baffled he is to see it in this context. 

“Fuck,” Eddie mutters after a second, rubbing his hands over his face and sighing heavily, a hint of frustrated growl to it. “Well… fuck, okay.” 

He presses both hands together, tapping both pointer fingers against his lips and breathing out heavily through his nose, and finally looks up to make eye contact. 

“Okay, I just heard it how you must have heard it, and that’s—” A grimace passes across Eddie’s expressive face. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Steve. Pretty insulted that you’d just assume I even would, but that’s… that’s not the point.”

Steve blinks and keeps blinking, hard, not sure how the argument has turned into… this. He’s still mad, hurt, everything he was a minute ago, but now he’s confused too. And kind of indignant, a little unsure, half ready to tell Eddie to just get out again. “What? Dude, I heard you!”

“Not a laugh!” the metalhead insists. “This is so—For fuck’s sake, Steve, I liked it. I was excited, and I… I fucking giggled, alright?”

And… what?

“Giggled?” Steve repeats. 

“Yeah,” Eddie bites back, embarrassment coloring high on his cheeks. “Like a goddamn schoolgirl. I wanted to bite you there, you asshole,” he adds, but it lacks heat. His voice has gone tired, the fight draining out of him as he realizes—and as it occurs to Steve, if he’s telling the truth—that what they’d both been hissing mad about was a complete and tragic misunderstanding. 

“But… I don’t get it,” Steve says numbly. Maybe it’s the beer catching up to him, but his conviction is wobbling now and he feels off kilter. He shuffles a few more steps backwards until he runs up against the bed and sits so fast it feels like falling. “I’ve let myself go and you… I thought you…”

He’d been so sure. That laugh has been ringing through his head ever since he’d heard it, but suddenly it sounds like a caricature, like something out of a cartoon. 

Not how Eddie sounds at all.

“It’s not ‘letting yourself go’ to not be skin and bones, man,” Eddie says, shoving both hands in his pockets and looking down at the toes of his own sneakers. “Some padding never hurt anyone. I like it, alright?” Defensive, defiant, but… a little subdued now. 

Sad, Steve thinks, and then suddenly that’s all he can feel. It hits him that he’d pushed Eddie away, ended things between them… for no reason? 

His shoulders are already hitching up before he even registers that he's crying, wetness trickling straight down to dampen the hair at his temples. It’s been weeks. Weeks of being angry—he’s so tired of it, but the only alternative was to feel horribly lonely so he held onto it anyway, a rope burn on his soul to distract from the pain of his heart cracked in two. 

And he’d known as he watched Eddie earlier tonight that his gaze bordered on more pathetic than mad. Not quite cooled off enough to realize on his own that he’d made a mistake, but enough to recognize it now that reality (and Eddie) stares him in the face. 

It’s over for no reason. Eddie hates him now and if it was just a dumb misunderstanding then, then Steve absolutely deserves it—

The bed dips at his side. Not close enough that they’re touching, but that it happens at all is a surprise. And then Eddie murmurs “Stevie?” so hesitant it makes Steve choke. 

It’s the barest hint of an olive branch, and he’s absolutely going to blame the beer for how it makes the tears drip faster. He hasn’t felt this pathetic since the car ride home after one of the few basketball games his dad had ever bothered to attend, where Steve had missed not one but two easy free throw shots. 

“I’m so s-stupid,” he gasps wetly, and immediately feels even more pathetic for saying it out loud, as if it’s not obvious. He turns away, away from Eddie, trying to hide—his face, his body, everything. This is the worst pool party ever and he’s never drinking again. 

“You're not stupid, you dumbass. Hey.” Eddie touches his shoulder, keeps his hand light but there when Steve tries to shrug it off. He sighs heavily, almost a huff. “It’s not stupid to react to me pressing a button I didn’t know was there. Look—Would actually saying something instead of jumping right to kicking me out been better? Absolutely. That really fucking hurt, man.”

“Sorry,” Steve squeezes his eyes shut. “And sorry I called you a freak. You’re not, I don’t… I don’t really think that.”

There’s a pause, and then Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “Thanks, man. I’m, uh… sorry for the crack about your dad and calling you an asshole.”

“I am an asshole.” Steve’s eyes are already shut; he squeezes them tighter until colors start to bloom across the inside of his eyelids. “Fucking ruined everything over some stupid thing that was only ever in my head, so I… I deserve this. But you didn’t and I’m sorry, I hope you—” and here his throat tightens up, because he wants to say I hope you can forgive me, but that would be even more pathetic than he’s already being. “I hope you find s-someone who treats you better.”

This pause stretches out for a lot longer, so long that Steve would think Eddie had left if not for the remaining dip in the mattress and the hand-shaped brand on his shoulder. He’s just waiting for the agreement and for Eddie to finally leave for good, holding in a wordless, futile scream for when he’s alone. Fuck the party downstairs, he’ll call the cops himself if he has to just to clear them all out, and suck up whatever punishment he gets if the Hawkins PD decides to notify his parents. 

Finally, after a thousand fucking years of that scream burning a hole in Steve’s throat, Eddie says quietly, “Or, you could just… not do that again. Think you could do that for me, Stevie?”

Absolute fucking whiplash. 

Steve is so shocked he actually turns back to look, and all it takes is the sight of the other boy’s big brown eyes and the softness there, the tender flaming hope in them. “Yeah,” he croaks, doesn’t even think he sounds like himself anymore but at least he gets the word out. “Yes, Eds, please—”

And then Eddie is on him with a bruising kiss, scrambling to kick his shoes off while Steve scrambles at the black leather jacket, pulling it off to grab desperately where Eddie’s bare sides show through the intentionally ripped shirt beneath it. Ripped denim rasping against swim trunk fabric as Eddie straddles him, grinds down hard, refusing to let either of them up for air. Steve is just as hungry for it, just as desperate. 

It’s different. They’ve still got their residual hurts, he can taste it in the way Eddie bites at his lips, bites all the way down to his neck and sucks a dark claim on the side that Steve can’t help arching into with a moan. A breach of their unspoken rule not to mark each other because they can’t be out, not in this town and definitely not while they’re still only going into their junior and senior years, respectively—but Steve is in just the right mood not to give a shit about that right now. Although…

“Door,” he gasps, trailing off with a whine when Eddie rolls his hips down into his again. “Did you lock it?” 

Eddie pulls back fluidly with a curse under his breath, which Steve takes as a no. “Get these off while I’m gone,” he says, voice rough, and tugs at the waistband of Steve’s swimsuit. A second later he’s on his feet, backing away with a smoldering stare until Steve gets the hint. 

With a jolt, Steve shoves the trunks down, bracing his heels on the bed to tug them over his ass. His cock bobs free, and his breath catches at the way Eddie keeps watching until he backs into the door. 

“Good boy,” Eddie breathes, turning the lock behind his back. “Scoot back on the bed. After tonight, I’m going to make sure you’ll never think I’d laugh at you ever again.”

Steve does as he’s told, partly because he’s still shivering from the good boy (what is it about Eddie taking charge and calling him that, gets him every time) and partly because Eddie turns away to his tape player. Downstairs, it sounds like the party has seeped into the house; the living room speakers are thundering out don't you want me baby? at a volume that will probably spur the neighbors into action—morons. But all the better that the door is locked, if the party is going to ramp up unchecked; it’s only a matter of time before couples start breaking off to find any free privacy they can get. 

Eddie puts in a mix tape, one of the ones he’d gifted months ago for what he’d called Steve’s ‘auditory re-education,’ and moves the smaller player close to drown it out.

In that cocoon of some of the metal songs that Steve actually likes, Eddie comes back to bed stripped out of his jeans and shirt. He crawls up between Steve’s legs until he’s hovering over him face to face. Then he gathers up Steve’s wrists, moving them to cross against the headboard above his head, and Steve lets it happen because it makes breathing pick up, makes his pulse throb faster between his legs. 

“Keep these here,” Eddie says, and then kisses him so gently that Steve is shaking with the need to pull him closer, to have more. But the second he reaches to do so, Eddie catches him again. “Stevie…”

“I missed you so much,” Steve groans. Pouts, too, but lets Eddie replace his wrists above his head, not sure if he’s fully forgiven yet—doesn’t m is if this is penance or a reunion, or to what degrees it’s both. “Eds, please—”

He’s interrupted with another kiss, just as gentle and slow, but so unchaste it makes him feel like he’s melting. And then Eddie murmurs against his lips, “Missed you too. Let me show you, sweetheart.”

Before Steve has a chance to answer, Eddie wraps a hand (when had one of them left his wrists?) around his cock and drags a slow thumb over the head. 

“Just keep your hands up here for me and be good.”

With a shuddering breath, Steve tries. He keeps his hands in place while Eddie nuzzles down the front of his shirt to the soft swell of his stomach, no less noticeable than their last night together. (Watching what he eats is hard, okay? He’s a teenage boy, he gets hungry. And maybe he’s still a little bloated from the beer even though he can’t really feel the alcohol slowing him down anymore.) There’s a faint red line, visible when his shirt is lifted, where it’d pushed slightly over his waistband all night; Eddie presses a gentle kiss to it and sighs.

A good sigh, like this is exactly what he’s been waiting for. Steve’s heard it before when taking the other boy in his hand, in his mouth—and even if his mind is inclined to overthink it, his body is hardwired to respond. Precome dribbles onto Eddie’s fingers, easing the glide as he slowly, slowly starts to stroke. Makes Steve shiver with dueling sensations of shame and pleasure because Eddie is still kissing the little pooch of his tummy, free hand kneading gently over the softness at his side, starting to tip the scales with how good the combined attention feels. 

“That’s it baby,” Eddie tells him breathily, almost crooning. “That’s it…”

And slowly, slowly Steve starts to relax into it. He does try to look away a few times, overwhelmed, but Eddie answers each attempt by turning his face gently back and staring him down while kissing him more, tummy and soft sides and chest. Leaving love bites here and there. The sounds Eddie makes, pleased hums and low moans and quiet praise and Steve’s name, over and over. 

It feels like coming home. 

The next morning, Steve wakes up to Eddie kicking the door shut behind him as he comes back into the room. 

“Everyone’s cleared out, but you do not want to look out there,” Eddie announces, setting a tray piled high with easy breakfast foods (scrambled eggs, bacon, buttered toast, jam, poptarts, fruit), two mugs of coffee, and a jug of orange juice on the bed with a flourish before crawling back into it himself. “At least not before noon.”

Steve doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t care, because Eddie is here. Eddie is here. With a breakfast that perfectly suits his level of hungover—not bad, but not great. 

“Eds,” he starts, another apology ready to spill out, but Eddie pops a piece of toast into his open mouth and settles at his side. 

“We’re good,” the other boy says simply. “It was a dumb misunderstanding that made you feel hurt and sad and made me feel hurt and pissed off, but it’s untangled now. Just never try to dump me like that again and we’ll be fine, alright?”

“Uh-huh,” Steve agrees quickly through a full mouth. He’s struggling to chew the big bite that had been shoved in, reaching for Eddie’s hand. Eddie loops an arm around Steve before letting him take it and twine their fingers together. As soon as he swallows, he adds, “I don’t want to dump you.” Not ever again, he hopes, but it doesn’t feel like the right time to say so. Not right now, not something so big that it’ll sound like a grand empty promise right after making up. 

But Steve is pretty sure the fact that it hurt so much to push Eddie away means he’s capital L in love with him. 

“Good.” Eddie kisses him, a hint of sweetness on his lips that suggests he sampled some of the jam while cooking. “Now, eat up sweetheart. That makeup sex wiped me out, and we’ve got a lot more celebratory banging on the schedule for today. Gotta keep that strength up.”

And, he has a point. Steve feels the grumbling of his empty stomach, along with the easy throb of all the little marks Eddie had left on his body the night before as a form of… of worship or something. Reminders that maybe letting go isn’t such a big deal. Because if he skimps on breakfast when it’s what his body wants (needs), sooner or later he’ll get restless and cranky and risk ruining everything all over again. “Yeah, keep my strength up,” Steve agrees, feeling his face heat a little. But Eddie beams at him, starts fussing around with the pillows so they can recline comfortably while they eat—while offering Steve forkfuls of scrambled eggs and bites of this or that, really—and slowly, slowly relaxes into feeling like everything’s going to be okay.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[pigfacedbitch]

Way Back Home

summary : visiting May Castellan after the Battle of Manhattan

word count : 1.1k

type : imagines

pairing/s : Sibling! Luke Castellan x Reader

warning/s : death, mourning for loved ones, and the unfairness mortals go through because of the gods

here is my masterlist!

Note : I'm not going to lie, I thought about this for a long time. I picked Phillipa Soo from Hamilton because she's perfect for the role. I SWEAR THAT IF THEY CHOOSE ANYONE ELSE, WE ARE GOING TO HAVE A PROBLEM! DON'T THEY SEE THE POTENTIAL?

After the battle, like everyone else, you mourn for your lost. Specifically, Luke Castellan.

Sure, he was the traitor who betrayed your trust, caused the death of friends and siblings, and nearly brought the world to ruin by aiding Kronos. But before all that, he was your brother.

Your loving, funny, patient, older brother, the one you always confided in. He gave you affection and encouragement when you needed it, and for a time, the anchor in your fucked up demigod life.

As much as you want to forget him, you can't. You loved him dearly.

While going through the belongings he left in the Hermes Cabin, you come upon a picture of his mother.

When you first asked Luke about her, the grim expression on his face was enough for you to never ask about her again.

Until he opened up to you, saying she was cursed by the spirit of Delphi and this made him run away from home.

You thought of Rachel O' Dare, the red headed girl who is now Apollo's Oracle, and what it means for May Castellan.

Is she okay? Is her curse lifted anyhow? Is she aware of what happened?

Then it hit you. You can visit her and see for yourself, but you didn't want to go alone.

When you suggested it to Annabeth, she was hesitant.

After all, she had her own painful memories in that house; particularly May's glowing green eyes and manic behavior.

However, she knew it was necessary. It will give her the complete closure she needed with Luke, as will you.

As expected, Annabeth told Percy, Thalia, and Grover about it. While they were doubtful that it would end well, they agreed to come along for both your sakes.

Just as you were about to leave Camp Half-Blood, you are surprised to see some of your siblings waiting by Thalia's tree.

"Leaving without us?" Travis asks with a smirk as you approach.

"May we go with you? We promise we won't trash her house." Connor adds.

"What are you guys—" Travis cuts you off, the usual mischief in his eyes replaced with solemnity.

"Luke was our brother too." He says, walking closer to pull you in an embrace. "So, we're not going to let you go through this alone. Got it?"

"Excuse me, we're here!" Percy remarks, sarcastic. "We're also supporting her.”

"Do you hear anyone, guys?" Connor asks, feigning confusion. "Because, I don't."

"Why, you son of a bitch—"

"True, but that's not the point. Let's go!" Connor interjects. The rest try to muffle their laughs, including you.

You arrived at the Castellan residence— a once-beautiful home with white fences and a front lawn. You can almost imagine Luke as a baby, carefree and happy with his mother and Hermes.

Oh, how that poor child turned out.

It was you who knocked on the door, with everyone else on standby. A woman, looking lost and broken, answered with a meek "H-Hello?"

She wasn't as Annabeth had described, but she wasn't the youthful, beautiful woman from Luke's pictures either.

The sight of her alone made you wanted to march to Olympus and shove your foot down your dad's ass.

Nevertheless, she invited you into her home. You frown upon seeing the mess, especially the Kool-Aid and moldy sandwiches in Tupperware containers.

As you, Annabeth, and Thalia explain what happened; you braced for a violent reaction. Instead, she just cries.

Without thinking, you got emotional and pulled her into a hug, apologizing frantically for something you didn't even fully understand. Was it guilt for Luke's downfall? Anger at the gods for the suffering they caused innocent mortals like like his mom?

You immediately pushed those feelings aside, focusing on the broken woman who, like so many others, had lost a child whose life was just beginning.

The others started to help around the house while you console her— cleaning up the mess, fixing the lights, plumbing, even mowing the lawn and painting the fence. You had no idea where they got the supplies from, and when you asked Travis, he just winked.

Percy was having a blast with the water, Annabeth had to calm him down.

May wept once more, this time from overwhelming happiness. Her home wasn't the same as before, but it's getting there. It'll be better with time, like her.

She managed to gain composure after a while, and thanked all of you for coming.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything to offer right now." She says, mustering a smile. "But if you need assistance, don't hesitate to come over."

As you all drove off, you could hear the neighbors complain about missing cleaning house supplies. Annabeth turns to your brother with a frown.

"Travis!"

"What? We needed it!"

Chiron was pleased to see how it turned out. Due to your initiative, he proposed an idea. Every fallen demigod must be honored, not only by burial rites, but their mortal families shall receive visitations and gifts if they choose to accept it.

The program is ongoing, and he specifically asked you to handle it.

Wow, too much work with no pay but okay.

May occasionally gives you and your siblings gifts and generously welcomes demigods in need, offering them food and shelter during their missions. She even entrusted you with a baby picture of Luke, a cherished keepsake among your belongings.

Then one night, Hermes visited you in your dreams. You've met him before, but this time he seem different. Happier. At peace.

He expresses his gratitude, and offered you anything you wanted.

"I want to punch you. Not as a god, as a human."

You expected him to smite you on the spot, but Hermes just laughs in amusement and agrees.

When you swung, you transferred all your pent-up emotions into your fist. It landed squarely on his perfect jaw, and you couldn’t help but smirk as he fell to the ground.

"You're stronger than I thought." He says.

"Well, I had to be."

Hermes’ smile falters at your words, and awkward silence followed.

"He's happy, dearest. Luke… He's in Elysium with the others."

Unfazed by the bruise forming on his jaw, he presses a kiss on your head.

“He's fine now. And you will be too.”

“I know.”

The next day, you woke up with the biggest smile on your face, gloating that you got to punch Hermes himself.

You're pretty sure that most of your siblings are now praying to him for the exact same thing.

[littlerosetrove]

Full acknowledgement that this is a first initial reaction, and I am in my Feelings about it. I may change my mind on some of this later, as I’m allowed, but as it stands right now? …..Do these writers even like Eddie? A bit of hyperbole, but hear me out. 

What. Was the POINT. of Eddie cheating with a doppelgänger of his dead wife when, I’m sorry, but it amounted to nothing. Not for Eddie at least. I THOUGHT the point of this soap opera stuff was that Eddie was going to start learning and healing from his trauma surrounding Shannon, but after this episode? That’s not what we got, not that I could tell. Honestly, I feel like Eddie is in the same place with his issues with Shannon if not potentially worse. Like jfc will these writers not allow Eddie, after five years, to move on from Shannon in any way? 

This is TV land, not reality. Things will not play out as they do in the real world. As a viewer this is super frustrating to see this issue be dragged out for five seasons, and what will now be beyond that. I’m sorry, but I’m So Tired of Shannon and Eddie being perpetually on this hamster wheel with her. Unless I’m sorely mistaken, but Eddie has learned nothing and dealt with nothing when it comes to Shannon, and now this show is going to drag it out into a SIXTH season of this particular issue.

The ONLY thing we got from the doppelgänger stuff was a traumatized Chris who, frankly, while he’s allowed to be upset, didn’t talk about WHY he’s even upset, not really. He at the very least said to Buck that he thought his mom was back, but she wasn’t. That’s something, but even that was not relayed to Eddie from Buck. 

So Chris is mad and called his grandparents and is going to stay with them indefinitely??? The writers had No One really communicating when it came to Chris, Eddie, his parents, or even Buck. There was some acknowledgment that Chris needs space, but idk…. Right now this feels like drama for drama's sake. I could have understood Chris wanting space for the summer, but there being no timeline to this??? That’s just unnecessarily cruel to Eddie. 

Bringing Eddie’s parents into this. I’ve seen people say “but Eddie has worked on rebuilding things with his parents, and now it’s all regressing.” That’s only partly true. Eddie has never started to work on his issues with his mom. He only worked on rebuilding something with his dad in season 5. There has been zero work to reconcile with his mom. So Helena was in character for being perfectly fine (happy) to take Chris. She may have not meant it cruelly, but her saying “if Chris forgets anything we’ll buy it for him or replace it” was mean. To me anyway.

The two good things for Eddie this season have been his new friendship with Tommy, and a consistent and strong relationship/friendship with Buck. Other that that this season has just: → made Eddie feel like he’s perpetually failing as a father → Eddie has been given no real closure or growth when it comes to Shannon, not that I could tell → continual mother issues, because Helena was happy to take Chris away from Eddie for an undisclosed amount of time

To break it all down even further, this season gave Eddie a relationship with a woman that, let’s be so for real, was pointless. Marisol was never a character. Eddie may at the very beginning gone into this relationship looking for the “magic” he had with Shannon, but that fizzled real fucking quick. There was nothing to this relationship. More than once Eddie “joked” about breaking up with Marisol, and he clearly showed disinterest in her early on. Then she was kept around to In The Background be cheated on. To tie it up the nothing burger of a relationship, there was a less than 10 second mention of an off screen breakup. Marisol had no weight in all this. Was the point of Marisol to show Chris, again, that “people don’t stick around”? Chris’s commitment issues come from his mom. Perhaps Ana leaving didn’t help matters (although we never got any insight into what Chris felt about that), but so what. We needed a third woman to leave to just compound Chris’s abandonment/commitment issues?? Nah. Just like Buck’s abandonment issues always come back to his parents, so do Chris’s (his mom). That’s the root of the issue, which means that Chris needs to go to therapy about it and Talk to his dad (although Eddie needs a ton of his own therapy first, since Eddie has Still not dealt with his Shannon issues). 

We got Chris in 7x1 maybe starting to work through his issues with his mom. Then we jump to the last episode where now Chris is angry and traumatized at seeing a clone of his mom…. For what purpose? Really. Eddie doesn’t seem to have gotten anything remotely positive out of the doppelgänger stuff, and clearly neither has Chris. So… So what was the point? To just create a rift between Eddie and Chris? To make Chris not trust his dad? Idk, pick a different method, ‘cause this was not it for me. 

When it comes to Eddie the only thing that the mess of the doppelgänger stuff has, apparently, taught Eddie is that when he does anything for himself, it will hurt Chris. Eddie, as far as I can tell, didn’t really get any kind of closure when it comes to Shannon, not based on this episode (7x10). No, instead we just have the recurring theme of Eddie feeling like he’s a failure of a father, and that all he does is hurt Chris. That’s what we’ve been given is Eddie feeling really fucking low, feeling like all his worst fears about himself are true, and now his son is gone for an indefinite amount of time. 

Eddie is left miserable, and for what? Well it damn well better be to build him back up in season 8. I know this is a drama, but come on.  Season 8 better give Eddie the time and respect he deserves. He has so many unresolved issues to work on and work through. - His issues with Shannon because apparently this show is still not fucking done with it. At this point I may accept season 8 starting with Eddie saying he went to therapy (off screen) and has worked through his Shannon issues just so that can be finally put to rest. - Eddie’s massive self worth issues especially when it comes to him being a father. His constant thought - compounded by his mom who has only ever seen Eddie as a failure - that he’s failing as a dad. - Eddie and his mom issues. Will those ever be addressed? - Eddie and Chris will need to rebuild a bridge together and heal. - Eddie is having an identity crisis because he does not even know what he wants (brought up in 7x9). He’s never been given the time or space to think about who he, just Eddie, even is. - Here’s to hoping this show sticks with the hints they’ve given, and that is Eddie going on his own queer journey. It clearly won’t be as smooth sailing as Buck because nothing is ever easy for Eddie.

EDIT: Some will miss this because it's been reblogged, but in short? Um. Eddie had no growth this season... Superb.