#i know its because of the last time i was there and the row me and that white woman had but i just know shes been

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[sotogalmo]

12:22

Nevermore by sasakure...... Such a Luka song but like. Also. Ivan- but I see it as like. How similar they are

[mitamicah]

.

[senselessalchemist]

apparently I preordered an audiobook when I had a free one from audible (yes I know but if they want to give me a poor person an audiobook I am too weak to resist, also it's how I get my stormlight archive fix every few years) and I don't know what it is and I am also afraid to check because I am a very weird coward with issues about notifications

[robotpussy]

like I'm actually sick of being at my grandma's house when one cousin leaves another comes in it's so crowded here and it's not anybody's fault I'm not even supposed to be here and I want to go back to my house so badly I'm constantly having to travel back and forth between homes because everytime I go back to my house my neighbours are doing something to drive me away again. last time I went back 2 neighbours were talking shit about me when I haven't even been at home for a month so all I can take from that is I'm staying on their minds constantly cause they haven't seen me for over a month and they're still talking about me

[talkorsomething]

Too [insert adjective here] for guard ...................

Well, it's only half related.

We "hit a pothole", "had a slipup", whatever you want to call it — sunday. Aka: for the sake of my sanity we are not labeling it a relapse but good god does it feel as though I have invited the demons back in.

I know why, but I don't really know why. Because, I mean... I never have, to begin with. So: when I decided i was doing it sunday, i accepted it. "Let it happen", as someone would probably say to me. It's not...

I've been thinking about it for a while now. It's like anything - it comes and goes, a few times a year, and no matter what, I always ignore it.

Except, maybe there's something I'm not paying attention to? Or, ignoring, is the better word for it?

Of course it would be the one thing I have happening in my life.

November, I was burnt out for unrelated reasons. It was a lot to take in. That made sense. Now? ... why now?

There's not really any pressure on me. Yes, I have to do things, yes, it will be noticed if they're bad, but ...... it's not important. We don't spend time on it. I'm coming back next year, but it might be at the cost of ... all of this. I think it's progress. I haven't touched my guitar in any serious capacity in over a year. I think it's progress.

I don't take compliments well. I can't tell if that's why I don't get them, but I'm not being corrected much either. Only when I drift too far from what the work is supposed to be, only after weeks of it going, I can only assume, unnoticed. I keep getting stuck.

...push it back down.

Telling me I'm doing good isn't telling me what I know I have to be getting wrong. I could take it, at the cost of... all of this. I'm anticipating, and I know it can come. This is not where I was when I started.

It's been said, I haven't been told, that not starting it means you're more of a burden, by making the other person have to do it first. I know that. I do. And still it doesn't help. I'm not drowning. It wasn't an accident, but it wasn't planned, either. I don't know you.

I don't know you.

I'm not a good person. I'm not a nice person. Every week I tell myself this is really it, and every week I come back, and ... what? Forget I ever said anything? Forget we're not friends?

Well, we're not, huh? Nobody is, with me. What you see I swear you misunderstand. You don't ask. If you do, well, I can't answer. We're at an impasse.

It's not even my fault we didn't make it. I shouldn't feel like this over nothing. I don't do anything. You will, correctly, not let me do anything, because potential doesn't matter if you can't back it up. If you won't back it up. I let things happen to me.

I don't even feel better. And, actually, ironically, i think i know what would let me feel better. If I can't be upset with anyone else, at least I can be with myself.

... but, well, not even that. Your heart in my hands, but I mean it diegetically. And metaphorically. I hate putting myself out there, I hate having to actually perform, and yet every time, no matter what, I do it. I'm fine. I only cared at the start, and even then not very.

I don't feel anything. Not a lot, anyways. I don't let it happen. I can't. I don't know what it'll mean if I start being honest with myself.

...

I've pulled myself out of this before. A few times, now. Different circumstances, but I've done it all the same. Seasonal depression notwithstanding.

I'm only here because I did things I was scared to. And still, I'm the same. No progress made. The only way out is to do it again but I feel like I can't. I can't.

Will someone just let me say that?

Will someone just fucking help for once?

[sk3l3t0n444]

abandonment issues go brrrrrrr

[gh0stsp1d3r]

win ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

A/N: okay.. I couldn’t come up with a title for this. Sue me.

Warnings: dad!quinn, rose is your daughters name (: all fluffy . short lil Drabble

summary: during one of your husbands hockey games, you and your daughter decided to surprise him!

MASTERLIST

As you gently placed the noise-canceling headphones over Rose's delicate ears, a soft babble escaped her lips. You gave her a boop on the nose before opening the door, her eyes fleeting around the unfamiliar place.

She was dressed in a little “daddy’s number one fan” onsie with denim shorts on and cute little bows in her hair.

A warm smile spread across your face as you stepped into the arena, the atmosphere wrapping around you like a blanket.

It’s been months since you’ve gone to a game, mostly because of Rose. You hadn’t even known you missed it so much until now. With your husbands jersey over your shoulders, you made your way into your front row seats, holding your daughter close to your chest and bouncing her on your lap.

It was then that you heard music play, and the time for warm ups began.

The opposing team began to skate out onto the other side of the ice, before the canucks did the same thing, all of them scattering around the ice.

Then, you saw your husbands number amongst them, a large grin making its way onto your face. You heard his name being announced, being introduced on the Jumbotron.

You glanced down at your daughter, pointing to the large screen on the ceiling. “Who’s that? Who’s that? Is that daddy?” You asked her, her eyes looking up at it curiously before letting out a little gummy smile when she saw her dad’s face show up.

She let out a babble, almost sounding like “dada.” You smiled down at her, nodding at her while laughing. “Yeah! Yeah, it is!” You cooed at her, turning to look back at the ice.

You noticed one of his good friends and teammate, Elias Petterson, point his stick in your direction, Quinn now looking at you, eyes widening.

In an instant, he was in front of you, a smile visible on his face as he stood there behind the dasherboard.

You stood up, placing your daughter on your hip as you showed her Quinn. He gave her a wave, smiling at the both of you.

Her babbles became more excited, reaching her little hands out, placing them on the plastic. He did the same with his glove, saying an estatic “hi!” to her, despite the crowd drowning out the noise.

You smiled at the interaction, watching him glance behind him, knowing he’d have to leave to go actually warm up soon.

He looked back at you, taking his hand away from the glass, sending you a smile and waving goodbye to her as he skated backwards, watching her raise her tiny fingers back at him in an attempt to wave.

He smiled at it, turning around but not before sending one last glance to the both of you, new goal in his mind.

Win, for the both of you.

[slxtarchive]

𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍 ꩜ 𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you and your best friend billie had your monthly sleepover consisting of a movie night and slurpees… she might’ve slurped sum else too.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. no but inspired by a request i got for madz

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. SMUT ! oral f!receiving, fingering, scissoring, talks of finding yourself kinda, confusing and conflicting feels, basically relatable content [ especially for me ] a little deep on this one.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. the synopsis i cannot — anyway, this was inspired by a madz request i got! tried making a divider, i got the inspiration from pinterest [ click here to be added to my billie eilish taglist ]

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 3.6k.

“so i’m thinking like three different chips, maybe two candies and… slurpees?” billie smiled excitedly. “we have to go all out since we didn’t have a sleepover last month!! c’mon, ill pay.” she moved forward super close to you practically touching your nose.

you rolled your eyes moving forward as your foreheads touched narrowing your eyes. “okay.” you said, quietly laughing with a grin on your face.

you and billie have always been super close. you spent practically every day together and if it weren’t for your parents you’d have a sleepover every week.

most people at school thought you two were a bit too close but you both never gave your friendship a second thought, well, you didn’t give your friendship a second thought. billie though, growing up she found herself thinking about you as more than just a friend but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind with fear of messing with your friendship — which she would never put in jeopardy.

you grabbed your snacks and slushees deciding which ones to get. billie insisted you picked them all out before you headed back to her house.

this time you both were in the living room because her parents were out of town. so, you both set it up a little more dramatically than you usually would in her room. you brought the couch cushions together to make a makeshift bed with a bunch of fluffy blankets. then, billie brought out a bowl and platter for your chips and a spot to set down your slushees.

after a few minutes of setting everything up, you finally sat down and began to decide on a movie. “what are we feeling?” she questioned, scrolling through netflix.

you looked at the rows of movies showing up on the screen before something caught your eye. “fear street…” you read. “it’s horror, and — oo it’s a trilogy! fear street 1994, 1978, and 1666.” you looked toward her excitedly.

she pressed her lips together trying to stifle a laugh. “so i’m guessing your choice is that one?" she hovered over the movie.

you nodded, "yeah we can watch all three. movie marathon!" you sang out.

she obliged putting on the first movie of the trilogy. throughout the movie it was good, you both commented on how crazy the storyline was and how cute the main characters were until one particular scene came about.

you sat on the couch legs crisscrossed practically mesmerized by the scene before you. you became overly aware of billie’s shoulder next to yours, the room heating up around you.

the scene was short but it still clouded your mind for the rest of the movie — your thoughts running a mile a minute.

by the time the second movie was wrapping up, you felt the energy in the room shift. the air felt charged somehow — heavy — with something unspoken.

the third movie started, bringing its scene to the start of the storyline all the way back in 1666. two girls who both had a secret attraction to each other but couldn’t act on it because of the views of their village.

you felt for the girls, in a way that you didn’t know you could feel. the scenes continued and as more scenes passed — the more the story made sense. every scene was important but there was one particular scene that stuck with you even more.

your fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket that covered your and billie’s legs as the scene unfolded. the two girls had gone out into the empty woods together after a fight had broken out. you didn’t pay much attention to the dialogue of the interaction — you paid more to the energy shift between them.

you eyes were fixed on the screen as the two girls, deena and sam, shared an emotional and deeply tender moment.

your breathing hitched and your chest tightened, a strange warmth spreading through you that you couldn’t explain. you had seen many romantic scenes before — but this one felt… different. it felt so real. it felt like something you couldn’t tear your eyes away from.

what pulled your eyes away from the screen was when you moved your gaze over to billie, whose face was lit by the glow of the tv screen. her expression was unreadable, her lips slightly parted, her focus locked on the screen. you quickly turned your head back moving your eyes away from her, your cheeks flushed.

by the time the movie ended, you couldn’t sit still. your mind was racing and your body was tense. the silence between you both was deafening, interrupted by the ending credits song starting.

billie finally broke the quiet. “that was so good! holy shit.” she smiled, before looking at you.

you cleared your throat a bit trying to shake the thoughts from your brain. “yeah.” you whispered, your voice not sounding too convincing.

billie noticed the shift in your energy quicker than anything. she moved her posture to face you before speaking up. “you okay? you’ve been quiet since—” she stopped herself, before softening her gaze. “since that scene.”

you stiffened, your fingers twisting the blanket with anxiousness. “i’m fine.”

she tilted her head, unconvinced. “yn.” she knew you better than anyone in the world including your parents and yourself.

you sighed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. your chest rose and fell unevenly. “it’s stupid.” you mumbled, bringing your knees up to your chest.

“it’s not stupid if it’s bothering you yn.” billie’s eyebrows furrowed.

you hesitated, your throat feeling dry. “it’s just… that scene. it made me feel… weird? i… don’t know why. it’s like… it hit me in a way i wasn’t expecting, and now i can’t stop thinking about it.”

billie stayed quiet in response to your confession. her eyes scanned your face searching for some kind of telling.

you noticed the longing stare she gave you. “it’s not just the scene…” you whispered, your heart twisting and churning. “it’s you..” you confessed in realization. “sitting here with you i—” you stopped yourself, not wanting to say things you might not know the truth of.

you shook your head trying to take a deep breath to calm yourself down. you swallowed harshly, “i don’t know what’s happening to me, bils.” you admitted.

billie’s heart pounded as the air surrounding her became thick. she found the courage to reach her hand out toward you, brushing your hand. “you’re not alone.” she said softly.

you looked up, your eyes searching hers. “what do you mean?”

billie took in a shaky deep breath. “i… i felt it too — during that scene.” she bit her lip nervously. “and i have felt it before, with you.” she looked you into your eyes.

your heart practically stopped right then and there. you wanted to speak but you felt like all the words you thought of and wanted to say, that they couldn’t make their way out of your mouth.

billie spoke up, noticing the trouble you had been having. “i would’ve said something but i’ve just been too scared to say anything because i don’t know if you’d… if you’d feel the same.”

your breathing hitched, your pulse roared in your ears. “you’ve felt… felt it?”

billie nodded avoiding eye contact with you, “yeah. and it’s confusing and scary, and it feels like my chest is about to explode every time i try n think about it. but…” she stuttered her hand running through her hair, “but it also feels good. like it just — just makes sense.” she finally looked up to look into your eyes.

the space between you both felt smaller now, the air filling with tension. your gaze flicked to billie’s lips, then back to her eyes. “i don’t know what to do with this feeling…” you whispered with a conflicting feeling.

her hand moved to cup your cheek, her thumb softly brushing against it — the touch sending electricity through your veins. “we don’t have to know. not right now, okay? we can just… feel.”

you leaned into her touch instinctively, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure she could hear it. slowly, billie found her forehead pressing against yours, your breaths mingling in the quiet.

the moment hung there, suspended, until you tilted your head, your lips brushing against hers. the kiss was soft, tentative, their movements slow as you both felt your way through this unfamiliar territory.

billie’s hand slid to the back of your neck, her fingers tangling their way through your hair. your hand gripped the blanket over them before hesitantly moving to rest on her waist, pulling her closer.

you felt the kiss deepen, not rushed but full of quiet intensity, a mixture of nervousness and something unspoken that somehow had always been there, waiting to rise up to the surface.

when you both pulled away, you stayed close to each other — your noses brushing together and breaths shaky.

“is this okay?” billie whispered up against your lips.

you nodded, your fingers brushing against her side. “yeah, it’s… it’s more than okay.” you licked your bottom lip moving closer.

she nodded, building up the courage to kiss you once more but stood there admiring the way you looked angelic in the tv glow.

your eyes moved all over her face before you made the move to kiss her. your lips molded with each other softly and passionately with more need this time.

you liked it. the feeling of her lips on yours. your skin touching hers. it felt so good — so right. you could taste the faint flavor of cherry from the slurpee on her tongue as the kiss became more hungry. she slipped her tongue into your mouth again before she pushed you onto your back. she then straddled you still never letting your lips disconnect.

you felt hot and needy in between your legs and felt the same thing between hers. the small gasps that came from your mouth showed billie that you enjoyed what was happening but she still wanted to your thoughts on what she wanted to do next.

her hands moved from your face all the way down to your chest then your lower stomach. “we’re just feeling right?” she gulped, out of breath.

you didn’t register what she meant but responded with a slow nod. “mmm — yeah? yeah… we are.”

she took another deep slow breath before moving down your lap and moving her hands to the waistband of your shorts. “and if you like… what i’m doing — i could keep going. if you don’t, i could stop.” you still didn’t get what was going on until she trailed her fingers inside a bit, beneath your underwear as well.

you took a deep breath leaning back on your elbows trying to calm down. your mind immediately went to the movie scene, the way you felt — the way it made your body feel. you felt needy for that in the moment. the way you felt all uncomfortable but a good uncomfortable, as if there was an itch you wanted to scratch. that’s exactly how you felt right now with billie making a move toward that kind of thing.

just to be sure you wanted to ask. “stop… stop what exactly?” you questioned, still looking down at her.

she smiled softly before tugging down your shorts a bit. “just… stop me from tasting you.” she still pulled down your shorts slowly looking up at you waiting for your response.

the only response you had, had to do with your body. the fact that you nodded while wanting to clench your thighs and soothe that feeling down there showed you that this is what you wanted. your only worry would be that this would change everything, something you didn’t want to happen but at this point — you couldn’t stop yourself.

she pulled your shorts down before taking them fully off leaving you in your underwear. she noticed the damp spot in between your legs. “you’re sure?” she asked, her tongue touching her lower lip.

your chest moved up and down as you tried to build the courage. you let out a breath, “yeah, i’m… i’m sure.”

she nodded before moving to take off your underwear. she tugged them down the same she did with the shorts and tossed them to the side giving you a full view of your pussy. you felt exposed and quite nervous so you closed your thighs. she giggled shortly, bringing her hands up to keep them from closing. “it’s okay..” she whispered through the low light.

she moved your legs away from each other so she could see you again and moved her head down. your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest when you felt her give one lick. your body reacted instantly as your back arched slightly and your breathing stopped abruptly. she looked up at you before taking another lick — the eye contact doing something insane to you.

she slowly got more comfortable with it starting to suck softly on your clit. your hand found its way to her hair tugging on it and trying to pull her closer. “fuck—” you moaned as her tongue dipped into your entrance then brought your slick up to your clit.

she sucked and moved her tongue around picking up her pace before speaking up. “tell me if… if it feels good. tell me what feels good. wanna make you feel good.” she blabbered taking your clit again into your mouth and sucking on it harshly.

“that — that feels really fucking good. i’m… oh fuck bils.” you moved the hair out of her face again to see her actions on your clit. “yeah, jus’ like that…” you moaned throwing your head back.

she nodded against your pussy harshly pushing her tongue on you. the mix of her saliva and your arousal adding to the squelching wet sounds.

she brought her fingers up to slowly inch inside you providing more feeling and pleasure. she hummed against your clit as her fingers thrust inside of you. you couldn’t help but move your hips up to meet her tongue, practically trying to ride her. your eyes clenched shut, “fuck billie… i feel so — oh fuck..” you couldn’t get your words out.

billie felt you getting closer and closer wanting to bring you to that state of ecstasy. she licked, sucked, and slurped everything up before letting it fall onto your clit and doing it all over again until you came undone on her tongue.

you tried to catch your breath as billie brought her face away from you and up to face you, her hand wiping your slick from her chin. she licked her lips, “so… did you— did you like that?” she asked, shy and nervous.

your eyes were filled with lust as you responded. “mhm — i… i loved it.” you nodded before getting on your knees in front of her and taking her hands in yours. “let me make you feel good too?” you looked at her lips before leaning forward and capturing them in a kiss.

she whimpered against your lips as she felt your hands touch her waist. billie couldn’t wait for you to take off her clothes so she did it for you, removing both her shorts and underwear leaving you both bottomless. “i… can we try something?”

you were practically hypnotized by her so you nodded eager to hear what she had to say.

she sat back against the couch armrest with her legs wide open. she touched herself a little bringing the arousal from her entrance to her clit. “want you to… rub yourself on me, please.” you gulped, trying to figure out how exactly she wanted you to do it. “you just—” she started sitting up and pulling you closer. “put this leg over mine and rub yourself onto me.” she tapped your right leg. “do you want me to show you first?”

you nodded pressing your lips together not wanting to do anything wrong. she obliged your request pushing you back onto you laying flat on the couch. your head wasn’t elevated or anything so it was hard to see what she was doing but you felt her lift your right leg up and push it back against your chest, then she made her way on top of you. before you knew it, she placed her own pussy on yours.

she fixed herself so she was right on top of you then started moving slowly. your mouth fell open at this new sensation. you looked up to find billie already staring at you. “how does it feel?”

you poked your tongue. “it feels really good.” your head moved back as your eyes fluttered shut. you felt so hot and sweaty, you wondered if it’d be okay to take off your shirt. you felt your adrenaline take over so you decided to do it anyway. you took it off and tossed it off the couch before unclasping your bra and doing the same with it as well leaving you topless.

billie’s moved her hips faster and harsher upon seeing you feel more comfortable with her. she decided to avoid making you feel alone she took off her own shirt and bra leaving her in her bare skin. your hands rested on her hips trying to push her to move faster. “please, faster bils. feels so good..” you whined softly.

billie nodded. “c’mon, you try.” she said lying down on her back. you felt that feeling of edge simmer so you hurriedly tried to move your legs mirroring what billie was doing. you looked at her for reassurance as you moved your legs over hers. “yeah, that’s good.” she nodded.

you brought yourself down pushing over her trying to find that specific spot that made your legs feel like jelly. you looked at billie trying to read her expression as a way to help you that you found her sweet spot too. she bit her lip moving her hair away from her face. she hummed with pleasure as you moved your pussy over a particular spot.

you smiled lightly, trying to repeat that action over that same spot. “yeah yn, just like that, please.” she moaned resting her hands on your hips. “such a pretty girl.” she purred, her face contorting as you grinded over her own pussy. the wetness in between making the smallest noises. that feeling you felt earlier was coming back almost becoming too much.

your hand rested over her leg that was off to the side and resting against the side of her chest. you moved with passionate eyes on that amazing feeling that was coursing up through you. “oh shit bils… i’m — i’m gonna cum.” you cried out, the pleasure blinding you.

she moved her head to the side clenching the couch. “me too yn… fuck — keep moving like that, please. jus like that.”

desperate spurts of moans escaped your throat as you kept your hips moving faster and harsher. you were right there you just needed a little push.

you looked down at billie to see her eyes fluttered closed with her lip between her teeth. that look on her face, the fact that it was you that was making her feel this good brought you right where you needed. you felt that feeling spread from your pussy throughout your whole body. “shit— i’m cumming!” you cried out.

billie only responded with a low guttural moan, grabbing onto your thighs as she came undone beneath you as well. her thighs shook as she cried out head thrown back against the couch with a blinding wave of pleasure crashing through her.

after the minute of whimpers and whines had passed, you had collapsed on top of billie, breathless and exhausted.

you didn’t know what to say. you both were a bit quiet for a moment before billie spoke up, breaking the silence. “this changes things, right?” her voice was barely above a whisper.

you nodded slowly, “yeah.” swallowing harshly you continued. “but i don’t think it’s a bad thing.” you admitted, mostly to yourself.

billie nodded, “it’s not.” her quiet voice was so soft. “it just feels different.” her thumb rubbing circles over your skin.

you agreed, your nerves still swarming inside you but billie was able to calm you down. “yeah, it is different.” you moved the blanket so that it covered you both, your naked skin in contact with hers.

billie shifted slightly still feeling unsettled. her movement was slow like she didn’t want to freak you out or startle you. she reached for your hand lacing them together, “are you okay?”

you hesitated, your eyes dropping to your intertwined hands. “i think so… it’s just a lot. i didn’t expect this y’know? i mean, i’ve always felt close to you but this — it’s new and kinda scary.”

billie gave your hand a gentle squeeze. “it’s scary for me too.” she admitted. “but that’s okay because we don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

you looked up and made eye contact with her finally seeing her face in full. “you make it sound so easy.” you whispered, feeling her so close.

she chuckled cuddling closer to you. “its not simple but if we have each other and we promise to always be there and be honest with each other, we’ll be okay.” her hand rested on your cheek.

you nodded leaning into her soft touch. “one step at a time.” you stated.

billie smiled. “exactly, so first step, how about we finish these snacks and instead make this a date? another movie?”

you looked in between her eyes before nodding. “i’d definitely like that.” you spoke softly. in response, she leaned down and pecked your lips softly.

© 𝐬𝐥𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐯𝐞

[promenadewithme]

Twelve days of Christmas - Chapter 1

paring: bucky barnes x fem! reader word count: 733 words warnings: marriage, children, slight angst, christmas. let me know if there is anything else :)

part 1 part 2 part 3

He was late. Again. Bucky had promised he would make an effort, as he did every time, but Stark always had him busy with one thing or another. You guessed men were all the same. Once they had the girl, they stopped trying. You never expected that from your husband, though. Closed off as he might seem, James had a good heart, one that did all he could for your family. All except actually show up recently.

Unlocking your phone for the millionth time, you were greeted by your string of unseen messages sent over the past two hours.

Liv and I are already at the school.

I saved you a seat, third row to the left.

James, are you coming?

It’s about to start soon, are you still at work?

I can’t believe you’re doing this again.

James?

At any moment, your daughter would be going up on stage, adorably dressed as a sugar plum fairy for her school’s Christmas performance. And he wasn’t there. You could clearly picture Olivia’s face as she stepped into the spotlight, searching for her dad in the crowd, only to find his absence. The purse that sat where he was supposed to be served as a reminder of every seat you saved him that her never occupied. Every time it got harder. Both to place the bag as you sat and to remove it when he didn’t show.

“Where the hell are you, James?” you muttered under your breath.

During your relationship and beginning of your marriage, your husband was the most caring and present man that ever existed. Then Liv was born, and rent was due. Money made the world spin and the lack of it made your husband seek more work. You knew he was overworked. You knew he did it for your family. The thing is, you had already gotten a raise and so did he, a significant one at that. You were comfortable, there was enough money saved for months if not more than a year. That did not make James slow down.

You knew he did not care about the money. He wasn’t the kind of guy to delight in the luxuries this world had to offer. Practical to a fault, he would even wear the same ragged clothes until you secretly replaced them. So why did he do it? Work until 3am, miss birthdays and special occasions, pull away from your family. From you.

It made you wonder if all those late nights were truly spent working. Maybe he was slowly forgetting your family because he found himself in someone else. Maybe your worst fear, that you would never be enough no matter how hard you tried, was the harsh reality. Maybe he was better off without you.

“Hey, is this seat taken?” one of the mothers you usually saw during drop-off asked, steering you from your thoughts.

Was it? You gazed at the auditorium doors one last time, hoping to see your husband’s face as he searched for you. But there was no one. People were already settled down and the lights started to dim. He wasn’t coming. A fact you already knew but had not found in yourself to believe.

“All yours.” You replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

As the woman sat down, something settled in your chest. Something you already knew you had to do, that you lacked the courage to. For your daughter, but mostly for yourself. You were tired of being the only one showing up, the only one fighting for a relationship that felt one-sided.

No. No more. You would rather be single again and truly be alone than to feel so lonely with someone by your side. So much for better or worse. He couldn’t even stay home for long enough to know if times were good or bad, to know you were falling apart.

Tears welled up in your eyes as the play began and you were grateful for the dark. Falling into its embrace, you wished one last time that your husband would show up. You wished he would realize that he was losing you. With all your heart, you wished he would do something, say something. Change. As much as you loved James, you wished he would change. By the time the lights turned on again, you realized that not all Christmas wishes come true.

If you enjoy my work and are able to contribute, please leave a tip here 🫶

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

[cookinguptales]

You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.

[miabebe]

The Intruder's Eye (CSC)

Was it really love if it didn't include just a little madness? What was love if it didn't cross the line? And how was it love if it didn't make one want to keep an eye at all times?

Pairing - Afab!reader x Choi Seungcheol

Word count - 6K (I failed the below 5k challenge T.T)

Genre - Oof buckle up my friends. This is a halloween special so I tried not hold back - its a psycho-thriller, there's smut and a whole lot of pyscho-ness whelp Warnings under the cut!

A/n - It's the week leading up to Halloween folks! Unfortunately I'm not the biggest fan of clowns and ghosts and vampires etc, but I do love me a good dose of psychos (who I think are scarier btw) so here you goooo! You can also check out Jeonghan's and Joshua's!

Again @tusswrites and @tomodachiii - what would I do without y'all 🫂 this piece is basically all you guys!

warnings - intruder in the house, mentions of stalking, medications, deranged characters, triggering descriptions of a home intrusion, smut, homemade porn (lol), bondage (mouth and hands), blowjobs, cum eating, riding, rough sex, mentions of toys and anal, manhandling, psycho behaviour, please forgive me I can only allow myself to be this unhinged during spooky season

It was the soft pitter patter of the rain against the car window that woke you up. 

Slowly fluttering your eyes open, you looked out down the dark, lonely road on the other side, at the street lights were still obscured by the downpour. It's not as torrential as it was when you stepped out of the grocery store a while ago. It was too heavy for you to even drive then so you settled in your car for a while, waiting for the rain to get less harsh. You didn't realise when you fell asleep. 

Looking at the 8pm flashing on your phone screen and the way darkness had engulfed everything around, a strange panic rose in you. You weren't really afraid of staying out too late but given the things that had been happening around you recently - you didn't want to take the risk. 

Turning on the engine and shifting the gears, you took a deep breath, and started driving  towards home. 

The street was empty for the most part - not many cars were on the road given the warnings for the incoming storm earlier that day. You didn't have a choice but to leave - you were suddenly running low on supplies, the shopping list in your hand was almost a page long. You glanced at the groceries at the backseat with a satisfied sigh - guess the newfound cardio routine was doing a good job in working up your appetite. 

As you neared your house, the streets became more illuminated, much to your relief. Unlike the rest of the town, your neighbourhood was a much safer space - there were streetlights, surveillance cameras and disguised cops always patrolling the area. Most people who resided here didn't know but many of the inhabitants of these row houses were in fact people placed on witness protection. You knew because you were one of them. 

One year ago, your testimony in a high profile case had led to some very bad people finding themselves behind bars. In exchange, you were promised protection, leading to your identity being morphed and your life being relocated to this locality. You were promised that nothing would happen to you here, that you would be very safe. You believed it then, but not so much now - not when you turned into your street and noticed the camera at the end of it was short circuited. Perhaps the storms over the last few days had a hand in it. 

You didn’t think much of it.

But maybe you should.

Because as you grabbed your groceries and ran to the door, fishing for your keys, you realised you didn't need them. The door was not locked. 

You racked your brains to remember if you had locked the door before you left or if you were in too much of a hurry to beat the incoming rain. Your memory is a little fuzzy, it has been like that for awhile, but you were too cold and aching to just get inside to give it any further thought.

 You must've forgotten to lock it - what other explanation could there possibly be? 

Balancing the bags in one hand, you slowly pushed the door open as you stepped in, flipping the switches with bated breath. 

Everything seemed fine, nothing felt out of place. Releasing a breath you tell yourself that everything is fine - you were clearly overthinking things. Paranoia had been a part of your life ever since the proceedings of that case - you were always wary, always suspicious, always scared. Though, you shouldn't be feeling that way anymore, you had taken your medication - you should be fine.

But how were you supposed to feel fine when every small thing made the hair on your skin stand. Like the curtains in the living room being open for example. You never kept the curtains open, especially not since your new neighbour moved in a few months ago. 

He called himself Choi Seungcheolwhen he knocked on the door to offer an introduction. You didn't know if that was his real name or the one the cops had given him as a part of the programme. Either way you didn't ask him lest he might ask you yours in return - you didn't need your identity compromised, not when the gang of those convicts was still actively looking for you. You had simply nodded and shut the door. 

Since then, you’ve always had the curtains closed. You had to, because somehow every time you looked out, Seungcheol was by his window, watching you. If you were being honest, Seungcheol was hot as fuck and a year ago, if a man like that was interested in you, you wouldn't have let him go. But things were different now - you couldn't trust anyone anymore.

Walking up to the window, you stumbled over the dumbbell in the way as you glanced at the neighbouring house. The two of your houses were the only ones on the street that weren't covered in Halloween decorations. It made sense - you were both single and did not have to deal with whining, crying, demanding children so there was no need for this facade. 

But you weren’t that lackluster, you did buy and keep some candy for the trick or treaters though you wouldn’t know if Seungcheol had done the same - he didn't seem too particularly fond of children. He never let them near the house. In fact he never let anyone into his house. You had never seen a woman or a friendly face from town or even a family member step into his place - he pretty much always kept to himself. It’s not like anyone else in this neighborhood had the luxury for such anyway.

At present, there was no sight of him or even his silhouette, with how the curtains of his house were drawn but all the lights were still on. Sighing a little in relief, you do the same, shutting the blinds. Still feeling the weight of the dumbbell against your foot, you pushed it out of the way, wondering how it had displaced itself from the rest of the workout equipment in the first place. You hadn’t even used those in a while now. 

Still lost in thought, you walked into the kitchen and as you turned the lights on, a shiver ran down your spine. 

Something was off, something did not seem right. 

At first glance everything seemed fine, but looking again carefully–nothing seemed right. The apron wasn't in its usual place by the spice rack, you don’t recall leaving out a glass of water on the counter, or leaving a packet of corn chips open. You never leave things out when you leave, you always put them away.

But things like this had been happening ever since you started your medication. You were more forgetful, and that was inconvenient but without your daily dosage it was like a fight between your nerves and caution - anything that moved invoked fear in you, every small sound made you shiver. There was no choice but to take those pills everyday. It was the only think keeping you sane. 

Shaking your head, you organized everything back in place again. Everything was fine. You had taken an extra dosage right before you left the house, you were just a little fazed from all the chemicals. Surely it was just your imagination, it wasn't like anyone could have entered the house in your absence….right? 

But there was a half eaten bowl of cereal in the sink and you… you were lactose intolerant, you didn't drink milk - that couldn't be yours. Hands shaking, you took a step back. 

Someone was in this house. 

Quickly opening the drawer, you grabbed a knife, gripping the handle hard and tight. The only question was, were they still in the house? 

Wiping the sweat off your face, you took a small careful step out of the kitchen. 

It was quiet, deadly quiet, there was not a sound to be heard, but the hum of the electrical appliances and the soft patter of the rain outside. Then you heard it, ears sharp and sensitive to the sound of water dripping. Slowly you moved towards the washroom, holding your weapon out, breath shaking. 

When you cautiously pushed the door open you noticed the floor was wet, water leaking from the shower head, drop after drop. You've never had this problem before, did you have a plumbing issue?

Stepping in, you tried to fix the faucet with your free hand. But no matter how many times you adjusted the hardware, water continued to drip, rendering you unsuccessful in your attempts. It felt like a really strong hand had broken the tap which was silly because you were definitely careful with how you handled your things? Neither could have broken this nor clearly, could you fix it. Annoyed by your failure and the thought of calling maintenance, you stepped out of the shower, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. 

There was a strange tiredness etched all over your features, hiding a stranger something behind it. Your eyes had sunken further into their sockets, thin wisps of hair framing your face - You’ve definitely had better days and was… was that a knife in your hand? 

You glanced at it quizzically. Why did you step into the shower with a knife? 

Softly smacking your head at your silliness, you walked back into the living room, leaving the tap for another day. Half yawning with tiredness were ready to retire for the night when your eyes fell on the grocery bags still waiting for you on the table - you had forgotten about it. Groaning at the thought of having to put everything away, you set the knife on the dining table and grabbed your purchases instead, taking them into the pantry. Perhaps it was because you were too deeply immersed in your organisation, but your otherwise sharp ears missed the rustling of the leaves outside, crunching under someone’s footsteps.

Going through the grocery checklist scribbled in horrible handwriting to make sure you had gotten everything, you swiftly began putting them all in their place. The pastas in the jars, the fruits in the baskets, the sauces in the tray. The heaviest thing you bought was perhaps those huge jars of protein powder. You weren't really sure why you decided to buy it - sure your doctor said you were too weak and needed to exercise to build strength but you didn't need to buy all of the products the Internet recommended to you. 

Telling yourself you'll find use for it later, you pushed them onto the shelves and turned to the meat instead, throwing them into the fridge. You didn't really know how to cook meat too well but you wanted to try. Seungcheol had once grilled some meat in his backyard and came over to offer you a few bites. When you tried to take it from him at the door, he pulled his hand back and cocked his head. 

“Are you not going to invite me inside?” 

He was always trying to make a move on you like that. You knew what he wanted, you knew what he had his eyes on but the answer was, no. You could take the deliciously cooked meat from him but couldn't let him into the house. It was too soon to trust him. 

But Seungcheol was relentless. 

It was evident with how he was the only one in town who turned up at the video store where you worked. And he came everyday. Normal people didn't borrow a new movie everyday, right? Clearly he was flirting with you. Or at least he was trying to. You only ever behaved professionally with him . Except sometimes, when he asked for movie recommendations of a very specific genre. You didn't really know many serial killer documentaries or crime podcasts to suggest, so you would simply ask a colleague to take over. Over the days, you watched him consume every last bit of thrillers available in the store and distantly wondered if he had a life outside of this consumption. 

Perhaps not. Seungcheol seemed a bit odd like that. 

He talked to everyone in town but didn't really seem to have any friends. He wasn't home for days together sometimes - you didn't really know the nature of his job so you couldn't tell why his absence was so frequent. He always drove that tiny pickup truck of his with some weird boxes and bags hidden under big blue plastic sheets in the trunk. . 

The whole deal about him was just not right. You knew something about him was not right. Even though he was incredibly pleasant on the eye, you had to be wary of him. 

You had to be wary of everything. . 

But maybe you weren't always as alert as you should be. Because it  was only as you were putting away the last of the snacks that you heard that sound - the thumping. 

It seemed like it was coming from outside…. Or was it upstairs? It felt like it was coming from right above, like the sound of someone's feet. 

And just like that,, you remembered the intruder again - the one who might still be in your home. 

Quickly you rushed to grab the knife from the table once more and held it out in defense. Whoever came to the house was most definitely still here, you could feel it in your bones. 

As you slowly made your way towards the stairs, trying to maintain a soft footfall to avoid the creaking of the stairs, another sound took you aback. 

No, not your racing heart - The doorbell. 

Turning sharply, you glanced at the door with wide eyes. Who could it possibly be?  At this late hour?

The ringing only became more persistent, morphing into knocks while you inched towards the door, grip on the knife tightening. 

As you slowly pressed down the handle and slightly opened the door, you were met with cheerful voices, much to your relief. 

“Happy Halloween!” 

Before you was a tiny ghost, a pirate, a couple of princesses and a buzz lightyear, all half your height, looking at you surprised. 

“Ms. L/n!” 

“Hey kiddos.” 

“Where's Mr. Choi?” The pirate pouted. “We thought we could finally get him to be nice to us, hand us some treats.” 

“Aw.” You pinched his cheek with your free hand. The one that was not hiding the knife behind the door. “Mr. Choi isn't in town sadly.” 

The little kid looked at you quizzically. “Then what are you doing in his house?” 

.

.

.

Oh. 

You blinked at him while he looked up at you expectantly. 

Then your lips split into a sweet, saccharine smile. 

“He asked me to look after it while he was gone.”

“When will Mr. Choi be back?” 

You glanced at the inquisitive little ghost, fiddling with the knife in your hand. 

Please, please don't make me use this. 

“Do you want an answer or candy?” You cocked your head cheekily. “I'm only giving out one.” 

“Candy!” They screamed as you laughed and reached for the packet you had just bought, ripping it open with the knife.

They watched excitedly as you dropped handfuls of chocolate into their little baskets and plastic pumpkins. With a scream of “Ms. L/N is the best!” they scurried away to their next target of the night. And so did you, tossing the knife onto the table once again.

You clutched your head and released a low hiss of irritation at the dull throb.Those stupid medicines were really getting to your head now, you were forgetting too many important things. Thank fuck for the children, otherwise you would have never remembered what really had to be done. 

Locking the door behind you, you quickly made your way up the stairs. There was no need to head softly - the stairs had a tendency to creak in your house, not in Seungcheol’s. 

The thumping from earlier was more pronounced now as your senses slowly cleared up, much like how the light flooded from underneath the bedroom door. The soft thumps are getting louder and louder as you neared it. With a twist of the knob and swing of the door, you tilt  your head with a smile. 

Light flooded from underneath the bedroom door, the soft thumping sound getting louder and louder as you neared it. Opening it wide, you cocked your head with a smile. 

There he was. 

Sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, Seungcheol was looking gorgeous as ever. He was dressed in just his grey sweatpants, the thick muscles of his shoulders and pecs bared before you. His biceps too were popping on either side thanks to the fact that his hands were tied at the back of the chair. Oh and his mouth was gagged shut, his words turning into muffled whimpers as he looked at you wide eyed, halting the stomping of his feet.

“I know, I know, I'm sorry.” You raised your hands apologetically. “I meant to be back soon but you know how I am, forgetful little me. I'm sorry baby.” You neared him, walking around his chair, bending to whisper in his ear. “But I see you're having your fun.” 

Your eyes flickered from the tent in his pants to the laptop you left on for his entertainment, right in the line of his vision. You see yourself on the screen, dressed in the hottest lingerie you owned, looking right in the camera with the vibrator held just where you needed him and only one name spilling from your mouth - Seungcheol. 

This wasn't the video you played from him before you left for the grocery store - perhaps they were auto playing, lucky him. You had hours of such footage of yourself - in all kinds of positions, with every possible toy, in role play costumes, in every possible color of lingerie, you had an unmatchable variety. The only thing common among all of them was his name. Choi Seungcheol. 

Could you be blamed? The man was unbelievably attractive. It wasn't like you didn't try to avoid him, to repel all that magnetism. You were well aware of your nature - it hadn't been long since you had gotten a chance to start afresh and you didn't want to spiral again. You really really didn't. 

But Seungcheol was persistent. He wouldn't stop flirting with you at any given chance, he kept trying to invite himself home, he was consistently intrusive. You kept him at bay for the longest time, at least until the day you had to return the box he had left with you, the one in which he gave you the grilled meat. 

You didn't expect him to open the door with his shirt off, slick with sweat, flushed and half panting. When you caught sight of the dumbbells behind him,  could tell he was working out but somehow you couldn't help but think this was probably how he looked when he fucked and god did that make your mouth water. 

That day he shouldn't have invited you in. Then you wouldn't have found your resolve crumbling so weakly. You wouldn't have found yourself under him being pounded like there was no tomorrow. You wouldn't have crossed the line like this. 

What started that day set off a cascade of events. Sleeping with Seungcheol became quite a regular act - there was no part of you that he had left unexplored, untouched. He was in every crevice, every cell, you were entirely consumed by him. When you were at work, all you could think about was how well he fucked you the day before. When you were on the way home, all you could think about was how well he was going fuck you today. Even after you reached, you always made it a point to immediately wash up, wear your nicest underwear and knock on his door. You always did it at his house. 

He did try to come to your place a couple of times but you consistently steered the two of you back to his house somehow. It was one thing to let him cum in you but to come into your house? You couldn’t have that happening, he’d ask too many questions - why do you never use the garage Y/n? Why was it always locked Y/n? Why did you have a ridiculous number of gardening tools in your house when you don’t even grow any plants Y/n? You knew the questions wouldn't seize and the answers weren’t good for him. They weren't good for anyone who's heard them all these years. 

Another reason you didn't want him home was because you didn't want to ruin the surprise. 

Now, Seungcheol was a self-sufficient man. He was happy with himself, his life, his home, his solitude. It was evident all he was looking for in you was a good fuck - afterall, he would never ask you to stay the night or to be his girlfriend even though you'd been seeing each other for months. You were okay with that….. for now. The two of you were still exploring, still understanding each other's bodies and limits. You didn't mind him taking his time, you needed your time as well. 

You see, Seungcheol loved his home. He loved every piece of furniture, every bowl, every mat - he was incredibly fond of his space, taking all the time and effort in the world to curate it. You, on the other hand, didn't really care much for your house. As long as it could fulfill basic needs and keep you safe, you were good - it wasn't like you stayed for long in one place anyways. But your heart knew that you wanted to stay with Seungcheol for the rest of your life. There was something dark about him too that told you he belonged with you the way you belonged to him. You wanted him to feel like he belonged to you too, you wanted him to feel at home with you. You wanted to be his home. 

That's why you took months together to design and turn your house into an identical replica of Seungcheol’s. 

And when you say replica you mean down to the T. Everything was the same. You made sure it was the same. All those times he was away for days together thanks to his job, you found yourself slipping into his house taking detailed notes of every object, every piece. You would only see, not touch or take anything away. Come on, you were no thief, thieves are bad people.. 

After that you had spent all your time online or going from store to store, finding originals and duplicates of his belongings. Given that he loved to have really exclusive pieces in his house they were not easy to procure but with a little sweet talk, a little threatening and a little unspeakable things, you had somehow managed to bring them all home. To the home you were making for him. 

Earlier this week, you had gotten hold of the last piece of the jigsaw puzzle - a childhood photo of Seungcheol's family, framed and hung on the wall. It was the hardest thing to get your hands on. His estranged sister would not leave her house for long enough - it took a major occupational accident at her husband's construction site to finally get her moving. 

With everything finally in place today, just as the sun began to set, you went over to Seungcheol's house to bring him over at last, to show him what you had done for him. Seeing how his front door was unlocked you stepped in, curiously looking around for him. But that feeling evaporated the moment you heard that sound - the sound of a woman moaning. 

It felt like the ground under your feet had slipped. Perhaps that was why you grabbed the baseball bat leaning against the wall, to give your shaking hands something to hold on to as you made your way to his bedroom…. He didn't even bother to shut the door. 

There he was, sitting on the bed with his laptop open before him, frantically getting himself off to the video of some pizza delivery girl getting her “payment”. 

Porn. He was watching porn. 

The moment his eyes fell on you by the door, he quickly tucked his length into his sweats and jumped off the bed, looking at you like you were crazy. Oh no Choi Seungcheol. He didn't just do that. He shouldn't have. Maybe then you wouldn't have swung the bat and knocked him out cold. Maybe he wouldn't have found himself in the middle of the room all tied up when he came around. 

You just couldn't understand him. What was the need for him to look at other women or even think of one when you were right there? Was he bored of you? Were you not enough? You did everything you could to keep him - every depraved fantasy, every humiliating act, every time he was rough to bruise you for days together, you took it all, you begged for more. Then why was he doing this? 

When he finally opened his eyes, he didn't answer your questions, he was simply screaming to set free. Well of course the only thing you could do was to shut his mouth in some way and with him unable to speak, you had to find other ways to get answers. You needed to find out if Seungcheol was just not attracted to you anymore. 

That's why you brought out your video collection, little films you had taken of yourself back when you were still pushing him away, all while wondering what it was like to get fucked by him. His mouth may say whatever but anatomy couldn't lie right? There was something else that could stand up and answer you. 

You had meant to stay and watch, afterall, you were proud of the quality of your content but the flashes of thunder outside told you that perhaps it was wiser for you to go to the store first. You knew whatever was going to transpire wouldn't be over any time soon, you had to stock up before the storm locked you in. Besides, it was Halloween night, all the cute little kids would be coming around for candy, you didn't want to miss out on that. 

You didn't and thanks to them, you didn't succumb to your forgetfulness and miss out on this either. 

“There there.” You cooed, removing his gag and he coughed, unable to regain his ability to speak just yet. You waited for him to come around, walking back to sit on the edge of the bed as he looked at you meekly. 

“Water.” He whispered, voice just a little horse. 

You raised your eyebrow. How did he manage to sound so sexy all the time? 

“Thirsty are we?” You smiled. “I thought my gift might have helped.”

“Y/n please.” He groaned. “What kind of sick joke is this?” 

Oh. He thinks it's a joke. A little Halloween scare perhaps. A prank gone overboard. Oh he has no idea.

“I think it's me who you take for a joke.” You glanced down at his raging boner. “Or not, considering how excited you are.”

You got up, leaning over him, hand gripping the back of his chair. 

“I'll help you.” You licked your lips. “Either I'll untie you, take my little collection and get out of here. Or I'll help with your not so little predicament with any and every hole I have…. Pick your poison.” 

Seungcheol looked at you wide eyed. His breath was shaking, lips were quivering and a hundred and one things seemed to be running behind those pretty eyes. 

Slowly gulping, his Adams apple moving with a bob, he shut his eyes. 

“It's unbearable.” He mumbled. “It's just…. Please help me.” 

And you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.

Sliding off the bed, you got on your knees, crawling up to him, slotting yourself between his legs. Seungcheol’s eyes flew open when your hands found his thigh, a soft sigh tumbling out of his mouth. He loved to fuck your mouth. He loved how eager to please you always were, always trying to take in more of him, always trying to do better. God he loved it.

He watched as you pulled his sweats down the best you could and wrapped your tiny hand around his dick. He was raging hard, the tip flushed in an angry red, precum smeared all over. You were lucky he was in your control now. If he were allowed to have his way, he might just break you. 

Stroking him agonisingly slowly, you inched closer to place a small kiss on his tip, the softest interaction that had ever happened between the two of you. Before Seungcheol could even relish that moment you wrapped your lips around his length and took him all the way in. Fucking hell. Seungcheol thought he was going to pass out with how intensely you were blowing him. He wished you'd untie his hands. He'd go anything to just push your head down his dick and feel himself in your throat. That was a sureshot at making him come, these shallow and fast bobs of your head were only aggravating him. 

Maybe that's what you wanted. Because the moment he let out his tell tale groan, letting you know he was close, you pulled away with a pop and wrapped your hand around his cock instead. Before he could complain about losing the warmth of your mouth you began stroking him fast thanks to the wetness of your spit and before you knew it, he felt himself reaching that high, meaningless words leaving his mouth. With a few more jerks, he came all over himself in spurts, ropes of white coating his abdomen. 

As he tried to battle his feelings of relief after finding a much needed release, disappointment for not coming in your mouth, and slight fear, not understanding what the hell was going on, you slowly let him go, wiping your hand on his sweats. Looking straight into his eyes, you leaned forward, gathering the cum all over his skin with your tongue and showing it to him before you swallowed it. Fuck, Seungcheol felt the blood rushing down there again. He was far from done tonight. 

Getting up you looked at him questioningly though you were well aware of the answer. 

“Do you need more?”

Unable to do anything else, he nodded slowly, whispering please. 

Smirking, you quickly stripped yourself out of your clothes. You would have made a show out of it, tease him slowly but you were equally desperate to fuck him so you quickly abandoned that idea. Throwing your garments somewhere, you clambered onto his lap, aligning yourself over his dick. You didn't need any prep or lube, you were practically dripping from just blowing him. 

Slowly sinking onto his length you threw your head back, finally feeling full. Seungcheol moaned too, burying his face between your boobs as you bottomed out, your grip like a vice. Holding onto his shoulders you began fucking yourself on his length, snapping your hips relentlessly. You could tell the feeling was too much for Seungcheol too as he bit on the soft skin of your breasts. It stung painfully but you let him - you always let him do whatever he wanted to you anyways. 

“Tired?” He looked up at you with a triumphant smirk as your pace began to falter thanks to the not so comfortable position of your legs. “Are you finally going to ask me for help?”

You shook your head. You didn't want him to have the upper hand anymore.

“Don't be stubborn, doll. You know it's better when I have my hands on you.” He ran his tongue along your breast, relishing the sweet and salty taste of you. “Untie my hands and we can make this better y/n. I know how much you love my fingers up your ass, and how much you like the grip on my hands all over you and how much you want me . Come on baby, untie me.”

You didn't want to, you really didn't want to but a part of you knew he was right. He could make you feel so good. 

Reaching over you pulled on the knot holding his hands together and in a flash his hands gripped the bottom on your thighs and with the sheer strength of his that you loved, he got up, lifting you along with him. Immediately pinning you to the wall, he began thrusting into you, drawing out the most exquisite moans from you as he hit the spot again and again and again. When unable to hold it anymore, you came around him, he tossed you onto the bed, pounding into you mercilessly, making you cum around him one more time before he painted your ass and back with his own release. Even then the night was far from over. 

After that he fucked you almost till dawn, pushing you to the limit as he made you cum so many times, you couldn't even keep count anymore. All you knew was that every bit of your body was screaming and creaming in pleasure - it was confirmed, you had to have Seungcheol for life, you had to do whatever it took to keep this insane man forever. You didn't know how but you could think about that later. For now, as day break approached, the two of you passed out in his bed. 

Seungcheol looked at you under the afternoon sun streaming into his room. You were fast asleep - he tried waking you up a couple of times but you just would not budge. Finally giving up he resorted to just staring at you. 

Last night was…. better than Seungcheol’s wildest dreams. He always knew he was a bit of a freak, but he didn't think he'd find someone to match it in this quiet town he had been reluctant to relocate to. Even when he first met you, he thought you'd be one sweet love making session at most but you took him completely by surprise. You were as wild as he was - you were down for anything he asked, you never said no and most importantly, you enjoyed it all. Seungcheol thought he had hit the jackpot with you. 

But yesterday was most definitely not normal. At that time he was thinking with his dick because all the blood in his body was clearly there but as he looked back at what happened, nothing about it was right. You had knocked him out, tied and gagged him up before you left him. You had hours of footage of you pleasuring yourself to the thought of him… 

Seungcheol had noticed the dates. It was way before the two of you had begun your little arrangement and he didn't know what to think about that. There were tiny sirens going off in his head telling him to run as fast as he could but Seungcheol couldn't stop staring at you. You were ridiculously beautiful and he just had the best sex of his life last night. 

When you whined softly and turned over in your sleep, Seungcheol finally rolled off the bed and dressed himself. Finding your scattered clothes on the floor he gathered them, looking at them with a frown. He couldn't have you wear these again and his clothes were far too big for your tiny frame. Maybe it was time to start making room in his closet for a few of your clothes.

Knowing how tired you must be given last night's events, he silently fished out the keys from the pocket of your pants and decided to bring you a fresh pair from your house. 

He shouldn't have gone over. He never should have stepped into your house. Maybe then the tiny sirens in his head wouldn't have become a full blown ringing. 

If he had never discovered the truth of your house, if he wasn’t staring at an exact replica of his space, maybe he would've never come to terms that last night was indeed extremely abnormal. 

You were not normal. 

Something was very very wrong with you, the dozens of medications on the dining table were a testament of that. Seungcheol knew he had to go. He had to leave you and that house and this town. He needed to run away from this madness.

But when he turned to leave, he felt his heart stop just for a second. 

There you were, right at the door, dressed in yesterday's clothes, looking at him expressionlessly. Your eyes ran over his face as he felt the hair on his skin stand. 

He had to go, he had to get the hell out of here. 

“Oh baby.” 

You cocked your head at him, leaning against the frame with a small smile. 

This was an expression you had never seen on Seungcheol's face before - a mix of shock and fear and repulsion. You could tell he wanted to run. You knew he would end things now, you knew it was over but alas, it was too late to let him go. 

You couldn't let him go. 

Taking a step ahead, you slowly closed the door behind you, inching closer to him, yesterday’s knife stashed safely in the back pocket of your pants.

“Do you want to see what's in my garage?” 

A/n - As usual, comments and reblogs are much appreciated - I'd love to hear your thoughts, it really helps :) You can also read Jeonghan's and Joshua's :)

[ponderingmoonlight]

can i request geto and reader having an argument and reader coming back home drunk venting to geto about the argument they had🩷🎀

Getting back home drunk after an argument with Suguru Geto

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: You always supressed the pain in your heart when your boyfriend dumps you for his best friend again. Until one day you've had enough. Until you get uncontrollably drunk to forget your fight.

Warnings: hurt to extreme comfort, language, reader being drunk lol

Hope you like what I came up with love, let me know what you think 🤍

„Hey sweetheart.“

Oh, how much you longed to hear his voice again, how long you’ve waited for him to come back. When was the last time you really saw your boyfriend? To be honest you lost count a long time ago. It shouldn’t bother you this much that he’s gone for so long. After all, Suguru is a special grade sorcerer, one of the best jujutsu sorcerers out there apart from Satoru Gojo himself. It’s only logical for him to be out on missions every free minute.

But there’s also Satoru. Satoru who’s busy himself. Satoru who steals your boyfriend every free minute. You tried to brush this ugly feeling away more than once. Are you really jealous because your boyfriend spends more time with his best friend when he’s around than with you in general?

Normally, it doesn't affect you this much. But since you haven’t spent more than 2 hours in a row with your beloved boyfriend apart from missions here and there, you can’t help but feel that violent sting in your heart when Suguru begins to pack his bag in front of your eyes.

“Are you leaving again?”

You desperately try to hunt away the petty tone in your voice, the feeling of frustration crawling up your spine.

“You know it’s been rough for Satoru these past weeks. As his best friend, I have to be there for him. We want to grab something sweet to eat-“

“You don’t even like sweets that much.”

Fuck, you hate yourself for your harsh tone, for the way your throat begins to ache in upcoming tears. Don’t lose your composure, just accept the fact that he’ll be gone today as well. But something inside you forces you to stand up, to cross your arms in front of your chest, to let your anger run free.

“But he does. What’s the problem, (y/n)? I just want to hang around with my best friend as long as I get the chance. Most of the time he’s on his own, going out on missions each and every day”, your boyfriend explains softly, his hand on its way to gently caress your head-

Until you slap his hand away.

“I’m having enough of this. When was the last time we spend time together, Suguru? You come back home when I’m asleep and leave before I wake up. I’m still your girlfriend”, you press out.

“This is the first time you ever said something about this. We’re still sleeping in the same bed every night”, he replies with low voice, making another attempt to touch you.

No. You can’t stand the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin, you can’t stand the stinging fact that he doesn’t seem to miss you the slightest. You take a big step back, blood pulsating through your veins. Why can’t he see that something is wrong in this relationship?

“Go ahead and sleep in Satoru’s bed if that’s enough then”, you bark back at him.

Suguru straightens his shoulders and crosses his very own arms in front of his chest, jaw tight.

“You know what he went through, (y/n). Do you really want me to leave him all alone over some cuddles? That’s pretty egoistic, don’t you think?”

You have to pause for a second, feel the sensation of your heart shattering onto the floor before his words truly hit you. What Satoru went through? You violently bite into the soft flesh of your cheek, desperately try to stop yourself from screaming into your boyfriend’s face. What about you, though? What about you almost getting killed because you tried to stop that man from following Suguru? What about you, caring for Suguru like no one else when Shoko healed his wounds? What about you, staying up each and every night and waiting for his return while he was out with Satoru?

What. About. You?

“You know what, Suguru?”, you mutter, teary eyes fixated onto the floor.

Never in your life did you feel this misunderstood. Doesn’t he miss you a single bit? Doesn’t he miss you lying in his arms while watching a movie, going out and grabbing something to eat? Doesn’t he miss to have you around, to hear your voice? Doesn't he understand that it's more than "some cuddles"?

You swallow hard. Because you miss him like hell. You miss those cuddles more than you ever imagined. And it fucking hurts to feel that he doesn't care.

“Fuck you.”

You can’t have it anymore. With a swift motion you turn on your heel and walk out of his room, ignore the way he shouts after you while hot tears stream down your face. There’s no way in hell you’ll stay here at Jujutsu High. No, you need distraction. And you already know who you’ll call.

“What’s up, (y/n)?”

“Shoko, get yourself ready. We’re leaving in 10 minutes.”

-at the bar-

You mindlessly draw circles into the fifth cocktail of the evening, mind clouded by guilt and alcohol.

“I told you alcohol won’t solve your problems girl”, Shoko comments dryly while sipping on her cola.

“Smoking doesn’t as well and still you’re out there smoking like a chimney”, you reply dryly before taking another sip of your drink just for demonstration.

“Fair enough. All I’m saying is you can’t run away from him.”

“Suguru? I already drank enough to forget his name”, you mutter.

"You just said his name, (y/n)..."

Truth is, you fucking miss him. What time is it? You lift up your drunk gaze, heart still clenched in sadness. Normally, you’d lay right by his side, eyeing him up and down while he’s already sound asleep.

This is not fair. You shouldn’t feel this way, shouldn’t fear to come back home. But you just know that you’ll get greeted by your very own empty bed. And what about the morning after? Shivers run down your spine just by the sheer thought of it. The way you just left him standing there like an idiot must have been hard to swallow for him.

Still…

You ball your hands into fists and empty your glass with one last gulp. He deserved every single word of truth that came from your mouth, he deserved all those things you’ve said.

“One more”, you mumble when the bartender arrives in your foggy view.

“No, that’s definitely enough for her. We gotta get going, (y/n)”, Shoko interrupts gently and pays for your bill while it takes all your inner will to not fall off this sky-high chair in the meantime.

The cold air of the night hits you like a wall, Shoko holding onto you with every bit of strength she has. Suddenly a wave of nausea crushes down on you, the icy air making your lungs burn uncomfortably. Damn, you just want to get home, just want to get into your bed. A glass of water…Yeah, you definitely need to drink something before you go to sleep.

But the sheer sight of Jujutsu High makes you realize that you won’t close your eyes this evening, pictures of your boyfriends’ hardened features still occupying your mind. You hate it. You hate every damn thing about the argument you’ve hard earlier, how unnecessary it was. Did he leave after you in order to see Satoru? The thought alone fills your numb veins with sheer anger again, makes you cross your arms in front of your chest just like you did earlier.

“You’re fine, aren’t you? I don’t want you to choke on your puke”, Shoko comments when you arrive at your doorstep.

Your fingers clumsily fumble for your keys until you finally grab the right one, gifting her a weak smile.

“Will get through it…Get ya ass into bed, Sh-Shoko.”

“You’ll talk things out tomorrow, okay? I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

You watch after her, how she disappears into darkness with one last wave. Then she’s gone, leaves you in the dark that seems to swallow you whole. What are you supposed to do now? All those memories flooding back in, the stinging fact that you don’t know how to act towards your boyfriend in the morning. All you want to do right now is take off your clothes, sip a cup of water and cry until you eventually fall asleep.

“Yeah”, you mumble to yourself while opening the door to your dorm.

“Cryin’ sounds good.”

“Hope you had a pleasant night, (y/n).”

Your heart stops, keys falling to the ground violently. No, this can’t be true. Did that really sound like…Suguru? Your tired eyes dart towards your bed, widen in sheer shock.

There he sits, on the edge with his arms resting on his knees, staring straight through your soul while all you are able to do is standing there like the drunk idiot you are.

“You drank, didn’t you?”

“None of your business”, you bark back at him, exposing yourself with your sloppy words.

“(y/n)…”

He sighs heavy, your name sounding so exhausting coming from his lips that your throat gets tight for a second. With a swift motion he lifts himself off your bed, his silhouette only lit by the moonlight that peeks through your window.

Just when he’s about to wrap his arms around you, you take a step back and almost trip over the bag you dropped onto the floor mindlessly the day before.

“Woah, easy there.”

Of course, he catches you mid-air. Of course, you feel like pudding in his strong arms. His scent hits you with full force, that baggy shirt not being able to hide his muscular frame from your trained eye. Oh, how much you’d love to lick his six-pack, to let your hands roam over his hot back. Why are you always this horny when you drank? But when your hand almost touches his chest, you remind yourself of what happened earlier.

The argument.

“Hope you had a great time with ya best friend”, you jeer at him.

Instead of letting go of you, he pulls you even closer. His eyes are near enough to inspect the colorplay of his chocolate brown orbs. If you stretch out your hand, you can play with his hair…

Get yourself together.

“Lemme go”, you protest weakly, almost tripping over your own feet while trying to get out of his arms.

“(y/n), look at me.”

You can’t escape his command. His eyes meet yours, reflect nothing but sorrow and sadness.

“I’m sorry for what I’ve said earlier. You made me think and I guess you’re right. I’m sorry for not making enough time to see you lately. It’s just that…I’m beyond stressed from all those missions and the fact that these people rely on me while on the other side, I don’t know what I’m fighting for anymore. I feel alone, trapped, lost in my fate. I feel guilty for the fact that this girl had to die, for the things that happened to Satoru…I…I feel like I don’t deserve a girlfriend like you anymore, your cuddles, your love, your food… You sleeping next to me felt so normal and familiar that it was everything I needed, (y/n)…”

Your foggy mind can’t comprehend all those senseless words put together, but his sight…The way his eyes turn glossy makes your heart shatter all over again, makes you wrap your hands around his neck out of instinct.

“No.”

You press yourself against his much taller frame, get lost in his scent, in his hair, in him.

“Please don’t say that. You deserve all the love in the world, Suguru. None of those things are your fault and I get it. Maybe I was the one being egoistic when all I could think about was having you for myself from time to time…”

“You running away in all that anger you supressed so long made me realize how much you really mean to me. I love you, (y/n). And I was the one being selfish when I cut you short because of my own feelings. I promise to make more time for you, at least two evenings in the week, I promise-“

“Shut the hell up”, you interrupt him with a wide grin.

“I don’t understand a word ya say. But I love you too, Suguru. And I want you to promise that we’ll watch a movie tomorrow.”

He sniffs while chuckling in the most precious way, his grip around your waist tightening.

“Oh yeah, what did you think of?”

“I thought about something like…Twilight!”

“I don’t know if I’m able to promise that, (y/n)…”

“You just did! Now, I’m so damn tired, let’s jus’ go to bed…”

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreoi @tachiharazsstufff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa

[nerdy-novelist017]

Ponytails and Promises (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader pt 5)

I'm sorry it's taken such a long time to get this posted ☹️ I've been dealing with a few health problems lately and it's made it hard to be creative. I'm not super proud of this but I hope you enjoy it regardless. As always, I'm so grateful for all of you wonderful readers! 🫶

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 3.1k+

Summary- Time spent apart has both Benny and yourself wondering what the other is thinking.

******

For the tenth time in a row, you rehearsed what you were going to say as you peddled your bicycle down the street, the morning sun shining through the trees above. You’d been up all night, a ball of nerves working its way through your tummy in preparation of today’s meeting. The diner was busy when you approached, cars and even a few motorcycles parked out front. You hopped off your bike, swallowing thickly as you propped it in the bicycle rack. You tried to spot his motorcycle but quickly scolded yourself for even remembering the particular design of his. Thankfully, you didn’t see it in the lineup. You smoothed out your ponytail and checked your romper for any signs of creasing that he might not like. Satisfied with your appearance, you pushed the front door open and scanned the inside. 

He sat at a booth on the far side and you swallowed your nerves and did a quick assessment of him as you neared. He didn’t look to be physically injured and you breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up when you stood before him and flashed you a quick, fleeting smile. As he said your name and it almost sounded unfamiliar to you. 

“Hi, Pete,” you smiled as you waited for him to stand to greet you. 

He nodded, motioning for you to sit and you tried not to appear dispirited as you slid into the opposite booth. There was a Coca-Cola bottle in front of him and you noticed that he’d ordered you water. You had to remind yourself that he didn’t know you very well yet and that he probably didn’t recall you preferred coke too. 

“You look very nice,” you said, attempting to cut through the awkwardness between you. 

He nodded again, murmuring a thanks.

Okay, better to get straight to your rehearsed lines, you supposed. “Thank you for meetin’ with me. A–and I owe you an apology. Pete, I had no idea he was going to do that.”

“Who was he?” Pete asked directly, cutting your speech short.

You put your hands out of the table in front of you, playing with the straw wrapper as you spoke, “He’s just some guy, a biker–”

“Yeah, I got that. I mean how do you know him?” 

“He . . . was somebody I met when I was out with Kathy. Met him at a picnic,” you explained carefully as your gaze searched Pete’s eyes behind his glasses. “Remember, the one I told you about?”

“She’s becoming a bit of a wild thing, huh?” he asked and you could sense that it wasn’t really a question. There was a blatant statement hanging in his tight voice. 

“She’s always been like that, I think,” you replied, trying to smother the defensive tone in your voice. “And I was only there for a short time, but I guess he took a liking to me.”

Pete hummed, glanced out the window for a moment so you continued, “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for what he did. You’re a really good person and you don’t deserve that.” You considered reaching across the table to touch his hand, but he leaned back in his seat before you could. “And. . . I was excited about our date.”

“Do your parents know about where you went? About him?” He seemed not to hear your last statement. 

“No,” you admitted, brow furrowing. In fact, you haven’t told anyone about your date with Benny. Not even Kathy. You just came straight home and went up to bed where you laid awake for hours, mind reeling through every conversation the two of you shared, every word he spoke. 

“They’d never approve of that,” he pointed out as he looked back at you. 

“Well, they’re never going to find out because I don’t plan on seeing him again,” you stated, looking down at the condensation building on the outside of your untouched water glass. 

“Good.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You don’t belong with a group like that, anyway.”

It was strange hearing that from Pete. It was the same affirmation you had told yourself over and over again last night, but hearing him tell you that, as if you didn’t have a choice in the matter, left a bad taste in your mouth. All you could say was, “Yeah. . .”

You wanted to ask exactly what Benny had said to him, but before you could, Pete leaned forward, seeming to be in better spirits and said, “Dolls like you belong on a shelf where they can be admired and not broken.”

His words, at face value, were sweet, kind, but you couldn’t shake an uneasy feeling that toyed in the back of your mind. Pete was the safe choice, you had to remind yourself. Pete was everything you had wanted for your future-husband, for your life. He wanted you to be exactly who you were raised to be. You could be a quiet doll whose whole existence was to sit on a shelf and look pretty. 

You nodded, leaning forward to take a sip of your water as an excuse to not speak. 

“I’m glad we worked through this,” he said as he waved down the waitress to order. 

“Me too,” you said quietly as he ordered for you. And you meant it, you did. But something felt different with him now. There was a shift that seemed to occur and you weren’t sure what it was or if it would ever resolve. Pete didn’t seem to notice as he prattled on about his upcoming golf tournament, falling into a one-sided conversation that he was comfortable with. 

As you absentmindedly picked at your plate of breakfast, you wondered —just briefly— if Benny was eating breakfast right now and if he was, what was on his plate? 

When there was a lapse in silence, you looked up at Pete, suddenly asking, “Are you still planning on coming to the charity picnic with me today?”

His brows pinched together. “What charity picnic?”

“The one I told you about last week? It’s for the children of Chicago fund. Our church is hosting the cookout, remember?” You asked, specifically recalling having this conversation with him on your first date. But you gave him the benefit of the doubt; maybe he had been trying to process a lot of new information about you and this slipped his mind. 

“Oh, right.” He adjusted the glasses on his nose. “I’ll have to check my schedule, make sure I don’t have anything else going on today.”

“Okay,” you nodded. He confirmed that he could go with you a week ago already. You slid out from the booth, grabbing your purse. “Well, I’ll maybe see you there then?”

He followed you, standing to his feet also. “Yeah.”

You made your way outside and he touched your arm before you could reach your bike. You were afraid that maybe he wanted to kiss you as he leaned forward but he only put his arms around you in a friendly hug instead. 

“Bye, (Y/N),” he said as he broke free, turning and going back to his car. 

“Goodbye, Pete.” 

******

Benny lifted the glass to his lips, downing the rest of his drink. The scent of cigarette smoke and motor oil hung heavy in Cal’s garage where he, Johnny, Wahoo and Corky sat around as Cal worked on Corky’s bike. Benny’s eyes burned as he rubbed his face tiredly. He hadn’t slept well last night – worse than the few hours a night he usually got. His mind was too busy, filled with thoughts of you. Of the way your hair cascaded over your shoulder, of the way your dimples show when you smiled brightly. Of the way you looked so damn beautiful even when you were angry. And you were angry at him of all people which admittedly, he still didn't quite understand why. You were upset that he overstepped, sure. He got that. But when it came to a man like Pete? Benny could take one look at that man and see the strained facade he wore like a mask. Benny’s always been good at reading people, at seeing past the guise. And Pete was no good. 

“What do you think, Benny?” someone had asked, drawing him back to reality. 

“‘Bout what?” he asked, looking up at the faces around the garage.

“About the radiator hose,” Cal informed as he motioned to the stripped down bike and Benny honestly didn’t hear what was even wrong with it in the first place. 

“Probably no good,” he replied with a shrug as he dug out his pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket.

As if Johnny sensed Benny’s more than usual reserve, he asked. “Hey, how’d the date go with Bunny last night?”

Benny glanced up at him. “Went good except I think she’s pissed at me.”

Cal laughed. “How could you consider that good then?”

Benny shot him a narrowed look. “We had a misunderstanding.”

“Are ya sure she’s mad?” Wahoo spoke up from the other side of the motorcycle. “When my old lady is horny, she just acts like she’s mad so I spank her and that really gets her going.” 

Benny sighed. “No, she’s mad.”

“Why? What’d you do?” Johnny inquired. 

Benny wanted to argue in his own defense but shrugged. “She’s upset that I had to run off her date.”

“She had a date?” 

“Mh-hm, church-going fellow.” Benny lit his cigarette, taking a long drag of it before continuing, “Caught him before she knew he was there.”

“Did ya kill him or somethin’?” Corky’s eyes widened. 

“Nah, just had a talk with him,” Benny clarified as he stood from his lawn chair, moving to look out the bay door. “He was late to their date anyway and . . . I just wanted to have a talk with him, see what kind of man he was. And I didn’t like what I saw.” He was one of those men who pretended to be something he’s not, who perfected the craft of lying to people – especially women. And Benny didn’t have any respect for liars.

“Okay, what’d you say to him then?” Johnny wondered.

“Just said ‘Are you willin’ to die for her?’ and he said yeah and then I asked if he was willin’ to kill for her because I was.” Benny recalled the twinge of fear in those eyes as he took a long drag of his cig. “And I think he got the message pretty loud and clear after that.”

Johnny and Cal shared a pointed look as a weighted silence followed Benny’s statement. 

“Jesus, kid,” Wahoo murmured. “This girl’s really got you whipped.”

Benny really didn’t want to have this conversation with an audience. He came here in search of Johnny to seek out his advice, but now that he’d confessed to the group, he felt somewhat . . . smaller. He’d never been one to struggle with his confidence, to care what others thought of him. But the idea that you were upset with him, that maybe you didn’t want him anymore, that maybe he’d ruined his luck with you before he’d even had a taste, well, that just struck Benny deep in his chest. It made his fist clench tightly at his side, made his heart beat a little faster.

Suddenly, Johnny was beside him, hand clapping his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Well, if that’s what made ‘em run away, then it sounds like he was no good anyway.”

Benny remained silent, picturing the sight of you walking away from him last night, choosing to walk home in the dark rather than let him drive you back. 

“So, she’s mad at you for that?”

Benny nodded. 

Johnny shrugged. “Let me tell ya a little somethin’ about women; they may be the same species as us but they ain’t the same creature. They don’t think like you and I. When we see somethin’ that needs said or done, we just do it. But they’re more . . . compassionate, empathetic. She probably feels bad for that poor asshole. Probably just wants ya to apologize to him.”

Benny wanted to roll his eyes. He knew all of this. He wasn’t an idiot. “Well, I told her I wasn’t apologizing for it.”

Groaning sounded behind him and Benny clenched his jaw defensively. “I’m not. I can’t apologize for somethin’ I don’t feel sorry for. I don’t regret runnin’ him off and I'd do it again if I have to.” Though if he needed to do it again, he’d probably not openly tell you again. 

“Then you’re goin’ to have to find another way to get back into her good graces, kid.” Johnny shook his head and Benny thought he saw a hint of a smile in his face as he turned away. "You'll think of somethin'."

******

You’d changed your clothes three times before you gave up and just decided to wear the same thing you’d worn to your breakfast date with Pete. Could it be classified as a date? You weren’t even sure where you stood with him now. He seemed to fall back into his usual demeanor, but that was always so closed-off anyway. But so was your father, you supposed. You could see that in the way he’d sit at the head of the table, face hidden behind his newspaper. It was obvious in the way your mother repeated herself over and over again in an attempt to be heard. It was apparent when he was absent during all your years of school accomplishments. That was the normal. It seemed unfair to expect Pete to be any different.

So you went downstairs, packed up your cake (one you had made special for the charity) in the cooler and hopped on your bicycle. The ride to the church wasn’t far but it gave you more time to consider Pete as you waved to neighbors you passed. Though you actively tried to avoid it, you mind drifted to thoughts of Benny. Was he the type of person to wave to neighbors? What kind of neighborhood did he even live in?

By the time you showed up to the church, the event was in full swing. You parked your bike in the rack and carried your cooler through the tents and booths set up, smiling at friends as you went. You found the pastor's wife who directed you to the bake sale booth where there were a couple other girls already setting up. 

“What’ve you got there?” one of the older women asked as you approached, setting your cooler down on the table. 

“A cake.” you grinned as you pulled out the cake, setting it on the display. You had gotten up extra early today to get started on the desert, knowing the congregation was counting on you to supply the design. The inspiration for the design – admittedly taken from a certain biker who you would not be thinking about anymore – was a a field of brightly colored flowers surrounding the base with a family of tiny bunnies to decorate the top. You were pretty proud of it and to hear the ooo’s and ahh’s of the ladies surrounding you boosted your confidence. They set out a donation jar in front of your display and people began to filter by your booth to admire the goods and to grab a free brownie made by one of the other girls at the table. As the event went on and the sun shifted overhead, you thanked the donors and smiled for pictures, all the while your eyes scanned the crowd, hoping to find Pete close by. 

When there was a pause in the flow of foot traffic, you took the time to crouch below the table to replenish the paper plates when a deep, familiar voice broke through your concentration. 

“Got anymore of your famous cookies?” 

You looked up, gaze locking with the ocean blue eyes of none other than Benny Cross.

You gasped and stood up so quickly you nearly knocked your head on the corner of the table. He was staring unabashedly at you, even being so bold as to roam his eyes down your figure and you suddenly wished you had changed into something a little more formal. Ironic, you thought, considering Benny was anything but formal.

His gaze moved from you down to the cake on the table and his brows raised. “You make this, Little Bunny?”

You swallowed, ignoring the rush of butterflies at the nickname. “Mh-hm.”

He bent down to inspect it closer, hands pressing to his knees and you can’t look away. You couldn’t look away from the cerulean gaze beneath a wall of lashes. You couldn’t look away from the slope of his nose nor the quirk of his mouth as he hummed a sound that came deep in his throat. And no, you couldn’t look away as your gaze traveled down his signature denim jacket to the exposed tanned skin of his arms, the muscle tone enough to make your eyes widen. You certainly didn’t want to look away from his hands over his knee as a flash of heat filled your core at the thought of his hands encasing your own knee.

Benny’s eyes flashed back up to meet yours. “You’re incredible.”

You nearly melted at his words, face heating up and you had to break his intense eye contact.

He stood back to his full height. “If it tastes half as good as it looks, I think I might be in trouble.”

There he goes again with those damn double innuendos. You started to smile but then you remembered you were still mad at him, that you weren’t supposed to be happy to see him or to hear his flirty voice. “You already are in trouble, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Benny grinned sheepishly. “I still gotta do somethin’ about that, don’t I?”

You raised your brow at him as you crossed your arms trying to look more confident than you felt. “You don’t have to do anything, Benny. It’s a free country.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “But it’s what you want me to do, right? Apologize to ‘em?”

“No, he . . . wouldn’t like that,” you admitted, “I don’t think that’d be a very good idea to involve him anymore.”

Without missing a beat, he said, “Then I guess I’ll just have to win you over again.”

“Who said you won me over a first time?” You challenged, standing up a little straighter.

Benny just grinned, a shit-eating grin that you weren’t sure if you wanted to smack or kiss off his face. You watched as he retrieved his wallet from his back pocket. He slipped out a five dollar bill between two of his dexterous fingers and dropped it into your donations jar.

“See ya around, kid,” he said with a wink before turning and leaving you standing there wide-eyed and fighting a smile.

-Tag List-

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan @cynic-spirit @pomtherine @tranquilty @m00npjm @twisteduniverse5 @justsomewritingblog @nhlfs @thepassionatereader @rebecca-hvnstn @nethanybear @dreamlandcreations @buckysteveloki-me @simsiddy @zablife @sansaorgana @autumnleaves1991-blog @butler-trouble @lindszeppelin @wavyjassy @real-lana-del-rey @ilovehyperfixating @xcallmetaniax @lovenewfandoms @youngestxhearts @abaker74 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @thefallofthedamned @hottpinkpenguinreads @nctma15 @vendylewin @capswife @alexa4040 @pearlstiare @sweetestrose569 @18lkpeters @pao-prazz @thedreamingfish99 @mrsalwayswrite

[prncessjaeger]

eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now

trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.  

“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”

“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen. 

eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.

the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”

“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”

“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”

“you’ll see.”

[pretentious-blonde]

new neighbour

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: steve is down because of his dating life, or lack thereof. that is until the new girl captures his attention

warnings: literally none, nervous and sweet steve!!

a/n: i have been gone for 3 months but uni has finally settled down!

pt. 2 pt. 3

A steady stream of gray light filtered through the wide front windows of Family Video, illuminating the rows upon rows of VHS cases. The day was uncharacteristically slow, the kind of weekday lull that left the store feeling hollow and cavernous. Steve Harrington stood behind the counter, leaning his elbows on the chipped laminate surface, tapping his fingers in a pattern he’d repeated so many times in an attempt to give him something to focus on. 

His eyes hurt under the fluorescents, and though he tried to keep a casual expression, anyone who looked long enough could see the small, flickering signs of boredom crossing his features. On the other side of the store, Robin roamed the aisles, a small stack of VHS tapes in her hands, placing each one in its rightful place on the shelf. Every so often, she’d glance toward Steve, as if expecting some lively remark, but he remained lost in his thoughts.

“Hey,” Robin called, sliding a Night of the Comet tape onto the appropriate rack. “So… Vicky and I were talking the other night, and we thought, maybe this weekend…” She paused, drifting closer to the register so her voice wouldn’t echo.

Steve raised an eyebrow, still drumming his fingers on the counter. “Yeah, maybe what?”

Robin placed the last tape in her stack onto the shelf with a gentle thud. “Well, we’re making dinner. A real dinner—you know, in an actual kitchen, with actual groceries. Vicky wants me to learn her mom’s lasagna recipe. The whole shebang.” Her bright eyes searched his face. “Why don’t you come over? Eat with us?”

To anyone else, that might sound like a friendly suggestion. But there was a flicker in Robin’s eyes that Steve knew well: an undercurrent of pity. After all, he’d gone on a date last weekend that hadn’t exactly gone well. He was used to being the one with endless charm, the guy who always had a witty quip or a warm smile to keep a conversation going. Yet none of that had worked on Tanya—no matter how hard he tried. God was he trying.

Steve sighed, pushing himself upright.

“Yeah… no.”

Robin visibly balked, confusion knitting her brows. “What do you mean, ‘yeah… no’? You can’t just respond to an invitation like that.”

“Exactly how I just did,” he said, mouth tilting into a faint, lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks for the invite, but I’m not interrupting your date night just because you feel bad for me. I know you guys are trying to, like, throw me a bone or whatever.”

Robin’s cheeks puffed out in a mock sigh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned away, pretending to occupy herself by adjusting a crooked VHS case. The slight shift in her voice told him otherwise. She always was a terrible liar. 

He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “You know what I’m talking about.” He shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, though the memory of last weekend pricked at him more than he liked to admit.

Tanya had been gorgeous—dark hair, lovely eyes, a laugh that could probably stop traffic. At first glance, she was the perfect fit. But after an hour of him asking question after question and receiving nothing but uninterested one-word answers, he’d realised that appearances weren't enough to carry a conversation. The spark was missing, that intangible something that made him want to stay, to laugh, to learn more. It just wasn’t there. He was beginning to think it never would be, at least for him.

Robin finally turned back. “Okay, so maybe I know you’ve been bummed. But it’s not pity, Steve.” She rolled her eyes. “Vicky genuinely likes you. We both do.”

“Sure,” Steve said, gently drumming his fingers again. “Vicky likes me enough to let me crash her romantic, candle-lit dinner with her girlfriend.” He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Yeah, that’s not weird at all.”

Robin shot him a look. “It’s not weird if we invite you. And besides, it’s not like this is going to be some super fancy dinner. There might be candles, but that’s only so I can see the food properly, okay?”

Steve snorted, though the weight in his chest didn’t quite lift. “Look, Rob, I appreciate it,” he said, voice softening. “I do. But I’m not sure I’m up for third-wheeling on a Saturday night. I think it’s safer for everyone if I steer clear, especially given your experimental cooking.”

She pressed her lips together, fighting a smile. “Wow, way to appreciate me trying to feed you.” Though she spoke jokingly, she studied his face for signs of deeper sadness.

He was Steve Harrington—he was supposed to be the one with the perpetual easy grin. But ever since his dating and social life had crashed and burned, Robin could see the twinge of hurt in his eyes. He was insecure. He liked to feel needed, he always had. He had no problem giving himself to others. So watching everyone else find their person only made him more self-conscious. The truth was nobody needed him, and that knowledge was slowly eating away at him.

“You know,” Robin added, resting her hands on the cart that held a few more tapes, “it’s not just about the date. I get it—you’re lonely. It’s okay to admit that. We’ve all been there.”

He opened his mouth, his gaze slipping away to look out the window at a slow-moving car. The driver was just a blur behind the glass, but it gave him something to focus on. Because she was right. He was lonely, and part of him wanted to accept Robin’s invitation so badly. The other part of him couldn’t bear to insert himself as a third wheel—he knew that feeling too well. He’d spent years longing for something real, something effortlessly mutual. Maybe he’d find it eventually, but not if he was hanging around a couple who only extended the invite out of sympathy.

“Okay,” Robin said, exhaling the tension that had built up between them. “If you change your mind, call me. Seriously, no guilt trip, no questions asked. Vicky won’t mind. We’ll have a plate ready.”

A genuine smile tugged at the corners of Steve’s mouth. It still looked like it held a bit of sadness but he covered it up to not upset her further. “Yeah. Thanks, Rob. I promise, if I get the sudden urge for a crisp lasagna—”

“Hey!”

He grinned for real this time. “—I’ll give you a call. Right now, though, I think I’m just gonna stick to renting a movie and ordering takeout. Maybe keep my Saturday night simple.”

Robin nodded, accepting his declination. Her gaze lingered, and she wanted to push harder, but she knew Steve well enough to sense that pushing too much would only drive him further into his own shell. “Alright,” she said softly, reaching out to pat his arm. “You know where to find me if you need to talk.”

“I know. And thanks.” He meant it.

Their eyes met before Robin moved off to shelve the remaining tapes. He watched her go, then slowly leaned forward on the counter again. Outside, the sun was getting a little brighter, illuminating the Family Video sign and casting reflections across the empty parking lot. He was trying to think about whatever movie he would undoubtedly be bringing home with him for the weekend, alone. That is, until he sees you.

You’re walking at an unhurried pace, shoulders slightly hunched against the cool breeze, but there’s something about you that holds his attention. The way your outfit matches in a way that feels effortless but intentional, the way your hair catches the light, styled just enough to suggest effort but not so much that it seems like you’re trying too hard. 

You push open the glass door, and the bell above gives a soft jingle that seems to echo in the stillness. The warmth of the store envelops you, a cozy contrast to the lingering chill outside. Rows of tapes tower around you, aisles lit by bulbs that buzz quietly in the background. It all feels a bit nostalgic, not too intimidating. 

Behind the front counter, Steve stands with his elbows braced on the worn surface. For a second, it looks like you’ve interrupted him mid-daydream—his brown eyes are distant. The moment you step inside, he blinks, and you can practically see the switch flip as you catch him. Suddenly, he’s all awareness, standing straighter, swallowing once. A faint flush colours the tips of his ears, though he tries to hide it by running a hand through his hair.

He looks at you in a way that he hopes is welcoming, he’s not sure if he should say something immediately or give you space to browse. There is a gentle lift of his shoulders as he inhales, working up the courage to speak. You offer a polite nod and slide toward the nearest aisle before he can get a word out.

He exhales a shaky breath he didn’t realise he was holding, mind racing as he tries to place you. He can’t recall seeing you here before, and he was certain he would remember if you had. He drags his fingers over the keyboard, tapping random keys to pretend he’s busy. In truth, all he wants is to keep glancing your way. It was maddening forcing his attention to the computer screen. 

You wander among the rows, taking in the titles. There’s something oddly comforting about the smell of plastic VHS covers. Occasionally, you catch sight of Steve peeking over from the desk, just for a moment, before he ducks back down to avoid being caught staring. You find yourself smiling at his obvious attempt to be casual.

He, meanwhile, is silently scolding himself. He knew he was being weird—God, he needs to get a grip. But there’s a traitorous part of him that can’t help noticing the delicate way your hair frames your face, or the look of your jacket—well worn, well loved, taken care of. Even though your aura was disarming, he felt like he was in high school all over again, unable to stop staring at the pretty girl in the corridor.

Eventually, you settle on a tape, The Empire Strikes Back—something classic you’ve been meaning to watch again. Taking a steadying breath, you head to the counter, the plastic case clutched in your hand. As you approach, he forces himself to appear relaxed, collected, though inside he’s buzzing with anticipation.

“Um, hey… Steve,” you look up from his name tag, placing the tape before him. His eyes dart down to the cover, then back up to you. “Do you work here?”

The moment you say it, you realise how silly it sounds—he’s in the company vest, with a company name tag on it. Heat flares across your cheeks.

A laugh bubbles out of him—warm, kind. He shakes his head gently as if to say, Don’t worry about it.

“Yeah, I do.” 

You nod, cheeks still burning from your awkward question. “Yes. Sorry, I, uh… obviously you work here.”

“Nah, no problem. I’ve gotten weirder questions,” his smile widens, softening around the edges. You’re cute when you’re embarrassed. “Good pick, by the way.”

As he scans the tape, you notice the slight tremor in his hand. It’s barely there, but you sense the sweet, nervous energy radiating from him. His gaze flickers to you, then back to the screen, then to you again—like he can’t quite decide which deserves his attention more. You, probably.

“So, um,” he starts, clearing his throat, “I haven’t seen you around before. Are you… new in town?” He tries to sound casual, but a hopeful note creeps into his voice, as though he’s crossing his fingers for you to keep talking.

You brighten at the question, happy to have something normal to say. “I am, actually. I just moved here a few days ago. The apartment is literally right across the street—well, I think you can see it from the window.”

His eyes widened with interest and with the knowledge of your close proximity.

“Yeah? Pretty convenient if you want a movie.” And maybe to see me, he almost adds. “So, when exactly did you move in?”

“Three days ago,” you reply, letting out a breathy exhale at the memory. “I’ve been knee-deep in boxes ever since. I finally decided I deserved a break, and what better way than a movie night to make the new place feel more like home, right?”

He nods fervently, excitement sparking behind his eyes. “That’s true. Shame I wasn’t working that day—maybe I could’ve, I don’t know… helped haul a box or two?” He offers a tiny shrug, his words stumbling a bit as he realises how forward that might sound. “I mean, not that I… I just… you know,” he begins to backtrack.

A warm giggle escapes you. “I appreciate the thought. My arms hurt for, like, the whole day afterwards.”

He huffs a little chuckle, feeling relief wash over him when you don’t seem put off. “Exactly.”

He glances around the store for Robin knowing she’s probably lurking somewhere, listening in with a sly grin. But in this moment, he can’t bring himself to care too much; he wants you to have his full attention.

“If you don’t have a membership yet,” he says, fishing around under the counter for a form, “you’ll need to fill this out.” He slides a paper and pen toward you.

“Right, I’m totally new,” you reply, stepping closer to read the sheet. As you lean in, Steve notices the light scent of your shampoo—or maybe your perfume—and it makes his pulse skip. He’s had customers before, obviously, but none have made him feel this flustered. It wasn't a feeling he necessarily disliked. 

Fighting the urge to stare too obviously, he busies himself with looking at the returns papers, occasionally sneaking a glance your way. He notices the way your brow furrows as you fill in the different boxes, huffing to yourself when you wrote your previous address, crossing it out and starting again. It was so human, so endearing, he had to turn away fully or his amused smile would give him away. 

Once you’ve filled out the form, you pass it back. He types in your details, the corners of his mouth quirking up as he commits your name to memory. “Perfect,” he tells you, printing out a fresh membership card and sliding it across the counter.

“Thanks,” you say, tucking it into your wallet. “Feels official now.”

He can’t help but feel upset that this moment is slipping away—any second, you’ll thank him, smile, and leave. Then he’ll be stuck behind the counter once again, replaying this conversation over and over until you come to return it, which could be a week from now. That would be unacceptable.

He clears his throat. “Uh, so,” he begins, voice wavering ever so slightly. “You got any big plans this weekend? Since you’re, you know, new here.” You could tell he was aiming for confident, but that casual tone of his falters as he seems genuinely invested in your response. 

His smile drops as he hears your reply. “Actually, yeah, I do,” his heart sinks, mind already going into overdrive.

You’re probably telling him politely to let him down. He knew he was being too brazen, but he couldn’t stop the embarrassment from settling in his chest. 

“I need to head into town and get some furniture,” you explain as his head looks up, stopping him from spiralling. “I heard there’s a store a few miles away?”

He smiles at the fact that you’re still talking and didn’t just shut him down, you’re just busy—and that’s okay.

“Oh, yeah,” he nods eagerly. “There is, um, it’s about a ten-minute drive, tops. Depends on traffic, I guess, but Hawkins isn’t exactly wild.” He lets out a weak laugh. “What are you, uh, looking for?”

“Mostly a bookshelf. I thought I could just stack my books, but they’re already in danger of tumbling over.”

He is listening, but a large part of him is cursing how little attention he paid in English class. Wishing he could humour you more.

“That’s cool,” he says safely. “So, you’re a big reader?”

You nod, eyes lighting up. “Oh absolutely, I love getting lost in a story.”

He can’t help but think how sweet you are, the warmth in your expression filling his stomach, urging him past his nerves to finally ask what he had been wanting to.

“Well, if you need help lugging that thing up the stairs to your apartment, I’m, uh… not working this weekend.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, he realises that, once again, it may have been too forward. 

“Really?” You ask, face brightening before he had the chance to overthink. “That’d be great! I was kind of worried about getting it back here on my own.”

His heart does that little flip at your acceptance of his offer. He nods enthusiastically, a few rogue hairs settling on his forehead, making his appearance more boyish. 

“It’s no problem,” he tells you as he puts his hands in his pockets, trying to appear relaxed as if this wasn’t the most exciting opportunity to happen to him all year. “I’ve got a car that’s… well, it’s big enough. Definitely more roomy than your average trunk. If yours can’t handle the bookshelf, mine can.”

You break into a grateful grin. “Wow, that’s really nice of you. Seriously.”

A blush creeps across his cheeks at your kind words, his face turning bashful. “Honestly, it’s no big deal at all.” 

It really wasn't, if all it takes is transporting some furniture to spend more time with you, he would gladly do it.

You lift your shoulders in a shrug, feeling slightly indebted. “Well, at least let me get you a coffee or something afterwards, to say thanks. I insist.”

“No, that’s—” He starts to protest, but the look on your face tells him you’re determined. It’s kind of adorable how your eyebrows pinch together.

“I insist,” you repeat, a little more firmly, and he laughs quietly.

So you're stubborn, he can work with that.

“Alright,” he concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “Coffee it is. How about…” Think, Steve, think. “Saturday morning, I can meet you out front, say, 10:30? Unless that’s too early?”

In truth, he’d be ready at sunrise if it meant spending more time with you, but he doesn't want to sound desperate.

“That’s perfect,” you say, beaming as you pick up your rented tape. “Thank you again, Steve.”

“Sure,” he replied, feeling a grin stretch across his face, so genuine it almost hurts his cheeks. He is shocked at how he managed to do this. How—by some miracle—you of all people had moved across the street. 

You give a small wave, and the door shuts behind you, the bell chiming one last time. His heart is still hammering away as he stares at the closed door, trying to process that he just—did that. He just set up what is basically a date… or at least a coffee situation. Either way, it’s something.

In the sudden quiet, he hears a muffled sound from behind him, and when he spins around, there’s Robin standing in the break room doorway. She’s practically bouncing on her heels, eyes wide with excitement.

“Oh, my God,” she says, not even bothering to hide the grin overtaking her face. “Was that—did you just—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he cuts her off, rolling his eyes even though he can’t keep the giddy smile off his own lips. “Shut up, Robin.”

She doesn’t shut up, but he doesn't mind. All he can think about is Saturday morning, and the way your face lit up when he offered to help you, and how maybe this is going to be the start of something really, really good.