#i want to give him a tag on my blog otherwise this wouldn’t bother me

[shaissa]

I think Shauna “No one has any right to my baby. He’s my baby.” Shipman would hate that her baby is so often referred to as the “wilderness baby” :/

I know we don’t have a ton of options seeing as she never got to name him but have we considered “baby shipman” or perhaps just “shauna’s baby”

Open to suggestions !!

[stranger-rants]

(1) I hate how the Duffers and no one im the ST fandom allows Nancy to be flawed and how she's now shapped as this person incapable of making mistakes. With that mentioned, all these anons around Billy Tumblr finding genuine joy when she's bullied by Carol and Tommy (which i admittedly like how they embrace their mean energy), even after she's concerned about finding Barb, saying that her hitting Steve was wrong and that she shouldn't have reacted like that, making "nancy wheeler slander" party posts, the whole sex shaming situation that a lot of fans still feed into these days, blame her for Barb's death, claiming that all those moments that she was ridiculized weren't a big deal, pretty much laughing and saying that she deserves all that treatment just because she is annoying and entitled its something that pretty much makes my stomach churn in ways that i can hardly describe...

(2) This is coming from someone that stopped caring about her after S3, bur also from someone who has been in same slut shaming bullying situations and that possessive jealosy treatment Steve (i'm not saying he's bad either) gave her on S1 just because he thought she was cheating on him with Jonathan

I’ve only gotten a couple negative anons about Nancy, and they’re usually about Nancy and Steve. Otherwise, I don’t get these posts on my dash nor do I see them in the tags because I don’t follow anyone doing these things and I generally stick to the Billy Hargrove tag only. I think a possible reason for the antagonism in “Billy fandom” have to do with how many vocal Nancy fans are Antis, but at the same time there’s prominent Steve fans who are Antis as well and Steve does tend to avoid criticism for a lot of things. It just reads to me like two characters being pit against each other for the nice guy love interest Steve which is a tale as old as time in fandom spaces.

I do think Nancy and Steve come with an entitled attitude to certain situations, but that’s because of class. I am also critical of the way that the Duffers use her as a “girl boss” while also positioning her and her family as conservative. There’s something about how they’re not just trying to capture the pop culture nostalgia of the 80s, but the political nostalgia of the 80s through their most popular characters that really bothers me… but again Nancy is ultimately a teenage girl with her own flaws just like any other character on the show. I wish fans of the character and fans who hate the character alike would spend less time making it our problem.

I’m not particularly interested in The Wheelers, so I don’t spend a lot of time willingly talking about them unless something comes up that I want to address. I’m ambivalent to Nancy, but I will get defensive if fans pull unfair criticisms of just plain hate against her on my blog but really this isn’t a Billy fandom problem exclusively. I know post season two and three, there was a lot of discourse among Steve fans about her and what she “owed” or didn’t owe Steve. That pissed me off and I’ve spoken up about that in the past on my main blog, but really she is not the character I care to spend the majority of my time talking about outside of that.

I understand the discomfort this brings, but it also makes me uncomfortable how a wedge has been purposefully driven between Nancy fans and Billy fans despite the characters hardly interacting. The amount of hate comments I’ve seen from Nancy fans in the Billy tag is astounding and I’ve blocked many of their accounts, which might be why I don’t see this particular fandom discourse all the time. I don’t go into the Nancy tag, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they get similar hate posts. I just don’t see any of my mutuals doing that, nor giving love and support to hateful anons. I think it’s worthwhile to look at the wider fandom for criticism on this one.

[sunkissedpages]

instead of you [part seventeen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol +sex

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

The flight from Naples to Tokyo took fourteen hours, not including the two and a half hour layover in Istanbul, meaning you had sixteen and a half hours to sit in awkward tension-filled silence next to Sam. The tension was one-sided, of course, but it was still agonizing to endure.

You had been able to push your anxiety aside during your last day in Italy because it had been so busy. There had been a power outage in the middle of the night, causing everyone to oversleep and miss the ferry for one of your tours that morning. It had been a scramble to get back on schedule and do as much as possible with the time you had left. The boys had been hungover and their parents were tired of wrangling them. You had dozens of photos on your camera roll of Sam and Harry bickering when they were supposed to be posing for a nice picture, and even more of Tom flicking them off. 

But now you were stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to use distraction as a means to escape. You tried reading your book, but found yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. After staring at the same paragraph for over fifteen minutes Sam noticed and asked if you were okay and you finally decided to call it quits. 

You almost wished the Hollands hadn’t scheduled in a day and a half to adjust to the time zone change. You’d rather exhaust yourself with the nonstop tourist bullshit than have to cope with the reality that you had gotten off to thoughts about your best friend’s brother. Not to mention living with the secret that the same best friend’s brother had kissed you not long before that. 

If Sam noticed anything was off, he didn’t mention it. He probably chalked it up to lack of sleep, or perhaps was too tired himself to care. 

“Which one of us do you think will be randomly selected in customs today?” Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head. 

You were standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, placing bets on who’d get searched by border agents this time. Somehow each time you traveled to a new place one of you was always chosen to get pat down or have your carry-on searched. Tom had yet to be the lucky winner, and you suspected it had something to do with his celebrity status. 

“Y/n,” Tom answered easily. “She has the U.S. passport.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like England has a squeaky clean record with Japan.”

“At least we didn’t-”

“Bro, you can’t say the b word on a plane,” Harry interrupted.

“Even when the plane’s on the ground?”

Sam shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Whatever,” Tom continued. “It’s definitely going to be y/n.”

-

“Would you mind stepping out of line, ma’am?” 

You sighed, not even bothering to look back at the boys. You already knew they were grinning like idiots and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The agent ushered you to the side behind a glass partition, but not before you heard another agent repeat the same question to one of the Hollands. You smiled to yourself, happy not to be the only one singled out.

Behind the privacy screen another agent greeted you and asked you to take your sweatshirt off, explaining that it was too baggy and needed to be checked. You saw other people in baggy clothes who weren’t getting pulled out of line, but assumed they didn’t have the red flag of “U.S. Citizen” printed on their identification that would be cause for any additional suspicion. You complied with the agent’s request and pulled your sweatshirt off for them to further inspect.

You were glad you’d worn a sports bra underneath your sweatshirt because you usually didn’t wear anything underneath them. As soon as your head was out of the pullover you immediately met by Tom’s polite smile. 

He averted his eyes as soon as he saw you, pausing his conversation with the official to mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ to you as he was shown to the spot next to yours. 

You zoned out as they spoke, only aware of him again when he started unbuckling his belt. You caught his eye this time. 

“Forgot to take it off,” he explained.

“Sweatshirt’s too loose.”

You both faced forward as the customs officials proceeded through the motions. You were stuck standing there half-naked with your arms wrapped around your chest self-consciously while an agent pat Tom’s legs down. 

“Dad said we can meet them at baggage claim,” Tom said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “They went on without us.”

“Okay,” you squeaked back in response. 

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still made you nervous to be alone with Tom. Sam was like a safety blanket, or a buffer between you and him and without him you were afraid it would be painfully awkward. 

The woman handed you your sweatshirt back and you had to wait for Tom outside of the screening area. He joined you a minute or so later.

“They find any dirt on you?” you asked from where you were leaning against the wall across from the exit. 

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually I’m in custody right now. Can’t believe you missed the handcuffs.”

“Man, what’d they get you for?” 

“Identity theft,” you sighed. 

“Damn, that’s a bummer,” Tom replied, false sympathy rolling off his words. 

He cocked his head in the direction the rest of his family had went, indicating that you should get going, and held out a hand to pull you upright. You took it hesitantly and let him help you. 

“I was actually hoping you could bail me out?” you went on, continuing with the bit. 

Tom made a sound through his teeth and grimaced. “I’m kinda broke right now.”

“Aren’t you an actor?”

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re definitely the guy!”

“You’re thinking of Tom Hiddleston,” he insisted.

“Remember that IOU you gave me? I’m cashing it in now.”

“That’s not how it works!” 

You laughed. “No, but if I ever actually get arrested I’m using my IOU to get you to bail me out of jail.”

“I don’t think that a kiss and getting bailed out of prison are comparable, but I didn’t put any conditions on that postcard, did I?”

“Nope!” You smiled happily.

“Well that’s on me, so...”

You took the shuttle together to the other side of the airport where the rest of the Hollands were waiting and finally found them with all of your luggage at the furthest carousel from the entrance. 

“It’s about time!” Harry yelled over the crowd as soon as he saw you. 

Sam grinned when he saw you and you couldn’t help but grin back. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively and you relaxed into his shoulder, relieved to be with him again. It hadn’t dawned on you until that moment just how attached you were, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the other Hollands were all looking at you expectantly.

“Did everything go okay?” Nikki asked. 

Tom nodded. “They made y/n strip, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks burning. “It was just my sweatshirt!” you hissed to Sam. 

“Yeah, but you never wear anything under your sweatshirts!” Sam hissed back.

“I had a bra on this time.”

“Oh, so it was just another night at the bar for you?” You wrestled yourself out of Sam’s grasp at that and glared. “Am I wrong?”

Sam’s dad cut in before you could respond. He had a habit of calling “family meetings” in the middle of public spaces to finalize plans and get everybody on the same page, which was always an experience. 

“Alright, gather up, gang!” he said, beckoning you all closer. “So we’ll be staying at... this hotel,” he explained and turned his phone around to show you the name of it. “And the thing is, we have two rooms to share between the six of us. One for your mother and I, and another for you four.”

“What?” Sam asked. “You’re going to make us stay with them?”

“I thought we were getting three rooms like every other time,” Tom chimed in.

“We were meant to, but I made a mistake when booking it,” Dom clarified.

“How?”

“The entire website was in Japanese, Sam. I don’t know Japanese!”

“Dad, Google has a translate webpage option!” Harry groaned.

“Well no one told me that while I was booking this entire trip by myself!”

You traded a look with Tom, who looked just as panicked as you felt. But it would only be for a week. You would find a way to manage. You didn’t really have any other option.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sam tried, forcing a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Dom cheered. “We’ll make it work.”

sorry she’s short this week :( but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @mischiefmanaged49 @bookingbee @cloverrover @captainbuckyy @perhaps-he-schnapped-blog @awkwardfangirl2014 @the-queen-procrastinator @tastingthestarz @sleepybesson @everythingbooknerd @sunshine96love @bitchymathematician @livingincompletesilence @melsbooktrash @swim-deep-or-die @fizzy828 @spider-slutt @theamuz @nedthegay @astroasethic @stuckonspidey @darlingtholland @sgtbookybarnes @tinyplanet-explorers @mildcockandballtorture @uglypastels @gennyld @devin-marie @r-wooooosh @hell-yeah-peter-parker @itssnowingandimstuckinside @relise-thefury @osteporosis @legendsofwholock @peterunderoos @fuckyeahhomerun @nobelwarriorheroes @delicately-important-trash @thwip-it-real-good @claryfray101 @softholand @tomhollandseverything @cool-ultra-nerd @jillanaholland @dinasaur36 @farfromhaz @hanlons-wp @moon-390 @parkerstylesperalta @httpchrisevans @screeching-student-unknown @almondholland @noisyzineeggsbandit @5sos-microwave @quackson-love @smilealways19 @quackeroos @my-patronus-is-mabel-pines @wolvesofwinter @mukesnugget @mytonycinematicuniverse @itsjusttor @percysmcu @peterquillzsblog @lovewolfspirit @biebsmylife95 @a-disappointing-teen-author @justanotherusername80 @b-buckys @sunkisseddreamerr @hufflepuffprincess24 @princessxcryxbaby @tinyyoungblood @holyfrickfracks @amii-nyc @clara-licht @veryholland @captainamirica @ultrunning @cocoamoonmalfoy @nellbellzz-blog @bookfrog242 @honeymoonlover @nellabellaa @its-the-solar-system @spiitfiires @tomhollandfangirl1 @parkeromanoff @randomstufflol29 @pogueslandia @hollandswife @bunnyweasley23 @determined-overthinker @madz-holland @hi-yekaterina @rinaaa334 @elishi03 @abcxrandomx @hiraethenthusiast @marajillana

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[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

WHY SO CYNICAL?

Prompt: Requested, by a lovely nonny 😘

Word Count: Long-Ish

Pairings: Tommaso Ciampa x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, rough sex, dirty talk, jealousy

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @serpantscorpio8497 , @theworldofotps , @blxxckheart , @aerynscrichton , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sunnyyeoo

Notes: I love this man 🥰💦 If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😘

Tommaso Ciampa, now this was a name that could easily trigger both the best, and the worst elements of me. Best because he could make me turn into mush, and worst because he���s the only human that can push my buttons like no one else.

When I first started working in NXT I would have sworn that I was sure we would never get along, but it was actually quite the opposite, we got along almost instantly and it was weird the amount of things we had in common. We became good friends, and yes, that was it. Would I like for it to be different? Yes. Will it be different? No. Simple as that.

Thatcher was also a good friend of mine. We knew each other longer than Tommaso and I did, and our friendship was a lot more intimate.

Ever since we met, he always flirted with me. He never really meant it, it was all in a teasing way. But it was on a daily basis, and Thatcher is kinda known for not toning it down, so his “flirting” can get quite...exposing? Well, what I’m trying to say is that it gets explicit...sometimes too explicit.

“Could you stop talking about her like that in front of me” Tommaso growled, to which Thatcher scoffed

“And since when are you the boss of me, blue eyes?”

“I mean it! Fucking stop.talking.about.her.like.that!” He grunted and left

“And what the fuck is his problem?” He asked me with a frown

“I don’t know, Thatchy...I’ll talk to him” I stated and stood up to go after Tommaso

I had to ran around the whole goddamn arena because he was so fast, I couldn’t get ahold of him

“Tommaso!” I called and ran to him, and when he was at the door that lead to the parking lot, he looked over his shoulder at me, huffed and and walked outside

*What the fuck?* I thought to myself and followed him out

“Tommaso, slow down!” I ran and pulled him by his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“It really doesn’t bother you, does it?” He squinted his eyes in hatred “The things he says, the way he says it. You don’t give a fuck!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked in disbelief

“It really doesn’t make sense to me how can you be so cool with it. Like, the guy says the most absurd things to you and you don’t even blink!” He spat

“Hold up- Thatcher and I are friends and how we decide to express our friendship does not concern you”

Tommaso closed the distance between us “It does concern me when it’s done in front of my face!”

“Why do you even care?”

“How would you react if I did the same to you? If I told you all the time how delicious you look in leggings or how your thighs call for me so bad that I wish to bury myself in between them?” He mentioned the things Thatcher commented on earlier today

“I wouldn’t care!” I honestly responded

“Ok...and how would you react if you saw me doing that with one of the other girls?”

“I wouldn’t care” I tried to hide my discomfort from him, but of course he noticed right away

“Wouldn’t you? Really?” He came closer with a smirk

“No”

“Something in your voice tells me otherwise” Tommaso caressed my inner wrist with a smile “I think you’d be very bothered by it, actually” And suddenly his hand went from my wrist to the nape of my neck “I honestly think that if that happened, you wouldn’t be able to take that cute little pout off your face” Leaning down, he stopped dangerously close to my lips “Something tells me, that you wouldn’t like that at all, would you, Y/N?”

“Why do you care?” I grunted

While chuckling he answered “Because”

“You’re so ridiculous, Ciampa”

“Oh, it’s Ciampa now, huh?” His hand slid from the nape of neck to my ass “So you’re THAT mad?” He pulled me closer to him until our bodies touched “Why would you be so mad if you don’t care about poor old Tommy here?”

“Let me go, you’re starting to annoy me”

“But you’re not annoyed with Thatcher, are you?”

“Why are you picking on Thatchy all of a sudden?”

“Because Thatchy” He said, with a bitter mocking tone “Is starting to get too close to what’s mine”

“I hope you’re not implying that ‘what’s yours’ is me”

“Funny...Last week you got your panties in a twist because you heard some girl in the club talking about how she wanted to come back to the hotel with me for the night” He narrowed his eyes “So tell me, Y/N. Why is it ok when you do it, but it isn’t when I do it?”

“It’s not about that-”

“So what is it about?” He squeezed my ass with his hands “If it’s not about us being attracted to each other and hating when other people go around lurking around what we want” He leaned down to whisper in my ear “You want me, don’t you, Y/N?”

I moaned softly at his low voice, warmth and scent being so close to me

“Tom-“

“No no no, shhhh” He nibbled my ear “Don’t fight it” He hugged me closer

“Fuck” I moaned

“Say it, Y/N. I wanna hear you say it”

“Yes, I want you” I pulled him closer to me by the waistband of his jeans “I’ve always wanted you! Happy now?”

“Very much” He chuckled and picked me up in his arms. Pinning me against one of the back walls of the parking lot

His kiss was urgent, as if he had waited an eternity to do so. His lips soon connected to my neck, my very sweet spot, which instantly made me moan like a bitch in heat.

“Your moans drive me crazy” He pressed his hard bulge against my crotch

“Tom...please”

When he looked up at me, his pupils were so dilated that it made his eyes almost appear black “Again” He growled

“Tom, please-”

Soon after, I felt his hands on the crotch of my leggings. He took the fabric in his hands and ripped it open along with my panties

“Are you fucking insane?” I gasped in shock “How am I supposed to go back-” The words died on my mouth the minute his swollen tip slid in me

“Jesus fuck” He grunted, while biting the meeting point between my shoulder and neck in order to muffle his moans

“Shit, you’re so..” My eyes rolled to the back of my head in pleasure

Tommaso thrusted in and out - slowly at first, stretching my walls to his (very) incredible length.

“Fucking you is so much better than I expected” He stated, while pulling my bottom lip between his teeth

“You’re so much bigger than I expected” I moaned

His boyish chuckle was the reminder of why I wanted this with him. This moment, this intimacy. Yes, we are in a public parking lot and this is the furthest away from a romantic scenario as possible, but it was him. It was WITH him. It was what I’ve always wanted and almost as if he could read my mind, he said

“I promise you next time it will be on a proper bed, covered with red rose petals and lots of champagne” Tommaso kissed me so softly, that it was almost an ironic joke compared to his quick thrusts

“Is Tommy a soft boy?” I giggled

“For you? I’m a fucking simp” He smiled widely while his thumb met my clit

“Does this mean that we’ll become roommates?” I caressed his neck and pressed our foreheads together

“You’re stuck with me now, cupcake” He pecked my lips “Deal with it‘ He cackled

Feeling his body pressed against mine, his arms squeezing me tight and his cock fucking me so good was more than enough to make me cum

“Tom”

“I’m right behind you, baby” He whispered against my lips

My orgasm exploded around him and my vision became blurred. For one minute I could only hear the frantic pace of my heartbeat in my ears.

Tommaso quickly pulled out and shot his load against the concrete wall with a grunt.

“Nice aim” I joked

“Not bad, huh?” He laughed while kissing me

“Wanna go back to the hotel?”

“Oh, you’re that eager?”

“Fuck yes! And I don’t want anyone but me seeing that beautiful ass of yours”

“How do you know my ass is beautiful?” I asked defiantly

“I peeked through your locker room peephole”

"Tommaso!" I gasped and slapped his shoulder

And of course his only response was to laugh

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰❤️

[jackrrabbit]

Unprofessional [pt. 2] /// Yandere Tendou x f!Reader (18+)

Request: Bro can I request a super smutty yandere tendou x reader please there’s literally no content for him and I’m just a honry simp for him 😔 (also your writing is FANFUCKINGTASTIC I have read and reread all of your docs dude at least twice in conclusion you’re my favorite writing blog now)

A/N: Thank you omg I’m so honored, seriously I’m blushing?? Also I love Tendou too so ty for the request. Finished the second (and final) part one day late for his birthday  🎂🥳🎁🎊🎉

Summary: The new hire you’re supposed to be training at your office job is a little too attached for his own good…or yours. [Part 1]

Tags/warnings: yandere, timeskip (Tendou is 23), noncon, mildly inebriated sex, restraints/bondage, threats, Tendou is incapable of shutting up, liberal use of “senpai”

You look so cute like this, wrapped up like a pretty birthday present just for him. Tendou likes you so much it hurts.

Your breaths are intentionally steady, like you’re counting out the proper number of seconds on each inhale and exhale in an effort to appear calm. Your chest heaves lightly, and he’s got an almost-perfect view of it with your blouse unbuttoned and your bra pushed up over your tits. He’d prefer to have you completely topless, but with your hands tied behind your back with his belt, his options are limited.

Tendou’s already shimmied your sensible pencil skirt down over your thighs to expose your legs. You looked so sexy in just your open shirt and pantyhose, but he had to take the hose off for access. Besides, removing the sheer black fabric (slowly, so that it wouldn’t rip—he knows those things aren’t cheap) gave him the opportunity to feel up your legs. Panties came next, and now you’re on your back glaring up at him with your legs crossed and folded to hide your naked pussy.

It’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Of course he took a few pictures.

The only issue is the gag. Tendou has his tie wound over your mouth to keep you quiet. It won’t do—he wants to see your face, after all—but he’s already got a fix, in the form of a little square of plastic he takes from his pocket.

He holds it up close enough that you can see it. “Do you know what this is?”

You don’t nod or anything, but you definitely recognize it—a condom.

“We’re going to have sex, senpai.” Tendou picks up on the little catch in your breath when he says the word ‘sex’, but he doesn’t think about it. “I don’t really care if I wear a condom, but I think you probably do. Is that right?”

You don’t respond.

“Senpaiii…don’t be stubborn. Nod yes for a condom, or else I’m not gonna wear one.”

You glare like you want to kill him, but you nod. Haha, how cute.

“Okay, good. I like when you do what I tell you. Now, I want to take the gag off, but I won’t do it if you’re going to be loud, you understand? It’s rude to bother your neighbors late at night. And…” He pauses. “Just to make sure you play nice, if you don’t listen to me I’ll take the condom off and cum inside. You don’t want that, do you?”

You shake your head frantically.

“Thought so.” Tendou’s pale, nimble fingers splay out over your inner thigh. “Then can you promise you’ll be nice?”

It takes you a long minute during which Tendou entertains himself petting the sweat-damp skin of your thigh, but you finally nod.

“Great!” Tendou grins and reaches down to untie the gag.

You take a minute to open and close your mouth, probably trying to stretch out the stiff muscles before you speak. Your voice is impassive and cool like you’ve been practicing what you’re going to say. “Tendou, you need to untie me. You’re very drunk and not in your right mind. Don’t do something you’re going to regret.”

Instead of listening to you, Tendou chooses to strip. Your composed mask slips for a second when he takes off his boxers to reveal his stiff, throbbing hard cock, already aching red and drizzling strands of precum onto his hand when he strokes it up and down. “Don’t worry baby, I sober up quick. I might be a lil tipsy but I’m not gonna have any trouble performing. Not for you.”

He crouches down to center you in between his arms, holding his head directly above yours. “And besides—“ you try to pull back away from his hot breath but your limited range of movement prevents you from getting anywhere— “I’m not going to regret this.”

Your lips are soft under his and you still taste fresh and sweet and minty from the toothpaste. You’re unresisting when his tongue prods into your mouth, but that’s not enough. “Kiss me back,” he murmurs, and you do. Maybe it’s just mindless—he’s sure you’ve kissed other people, as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise—but the movements of your lips and teeth and tongue against his feel almost eager.

“Ha…my first kiss with senpai,” Tendou says, pulling back and licking over his swollen lips. It would be nice to take his time with everything, but there’ll be more chances for that later. He loves the way your eyes trace him as he sticks his own fingers in his mouth to cover them with saliva.

“What are you doing?” you ask, but your question is answered when Tendou easily pulls your legs apart and settles himself between them so he can have easy access to slide his spit-soaked fingers up the length of your slit. “Tendou—Tendou, wait—“

He shushes you and continues to drag his middle finger all the way up from your entrance to your clit, letting the rough texture of his skin combine with your slick lubricant and give you just enough stimulation to make your hips twitch. “Mm, you like that? Gotta get you ready baby…not to brag, but I’m a little bigger than most guys. Wouldn’t want to—oh, easy, easy, relax—wouldn’t want to hurt you.“

You wince and then try to hold it back, school your expression so he won’t see the discomfort on your face when a single finger pushes into you. It’s not that painful, but the physical feeling isn’t nearly as bad as the fact that you don’t want any of this.

“How is that?” Tendou asks, slowly rocking his index finger in and out of your pussy, barely curling the tip to seek out your g-spot. You suppress the minuscule jerk of your core as best you can, but you can’t quite make it invisible and he feels it. “That good, huh?”

You want so badly to be angry. You are angry. If you could speak your mind right now, you’d tell him to go to hell. Yes, it feels good (and even admitting that to yourself makes you want to curl up and die), but it’s just hormones, stimulation, reaction. You can’t help it. But you’re not going to say that to him, not if you have the least chance of convincing him to stop before he goes any further. “It’s…fine. But, Tendou—“

“Knew you would like it. Oh—“ Another finger forces into your cunt. “—you’re tight, senpai. It’s been a while, yeah? You don’t have a boyfriend, I’d know if you did…and you’re not the type to do this casually. Too focused on your career.”

“I…mm…” What is he saying? Typical Tendou running his mouth even while you’re focused on him fucking you with those long fingers, prodding away at that spot—that fucking spot that is somehow, somehow—

—making you wet.

It’s not like some kind of precision activity. Tendou isn’t building you up or being subtle about it. There’s no teasing, no gentle touches, he’s just stroking that same spot over and over and the flat of his hand is mashing against your clit carelessly and it’s so stupid and so messy and there’s nothing kind or loving about it so why is it working?

“Feel that? Feel how wet you are?” Tendou has that same self-satisfied grin as he works his fingers in and out. “Poor senpai… You needed this, but you can’t ask for it yourself, I understand.”

“I don’t need anything…” you say, but you can’t expect him to believe you when your juices are slipping in and out of your hole along with his fingers, lubing him up to move even faster than before. When he started, you were so tense and tight that he could barely twist his fingertips up to pad at your g-spot, but now? Your walls are hot and sticky and supple, sucking him back in every time he pulls out.

He wants to make you cum, he does. And if he keeps going, it’s not going to be long, is it? But it’s your first time together… Tendou feels his cheeks getting hotter. First time with senpai, first time seeing you and touching you and having you totally, completely belong to him. The first time he makes you cum, it should be together.

If he’s not mistaken, you look almost disappointed when his fingers work their way out of your pussy, drawing away from you and wiping clean on the inside of your thigh. “You—You’re not…?” you question, trailing off when apparently you can’t bring yourself to ask for it.

“Don’t worry baby, plenty of time for that when I’m inside you.” Tendou walks his way up on the bed to leave a kiss on your forehead, so quick that you can’t cringe away when he does it.

You look off to the side, determined not to give him the satisfaction of eye contact—not to mention you hate looking at him, you hate seeing his stupid creepy face leering at you like you’re…you’re lovers or something. Like he’s not forcing you. But your attempt to maintain even that measly degree of avoidance shatters when you hear plastic crinkling. Ripping.

He’s opening the condom.

“Tendou—Tendou, wait! Listen!” You swallow and try to pull yourself back into your workplace persona, the mentor he respected and learned from, even if it was just an act. “Listen to me, please. You’re making a mistake. If we—if we stop now, we can forget about it...we can go back to normal, I promise. Do you hear me? I promise.”

“Normal isn’t enough anymore. Y’know what normal is for me? I’ve loved you for fifteen years. Wanted this for so long.” Tendou rolls the condom on and then hikes your ass upward so his cock is lined up with your slit. “Senpai, don’t you think you’ve had your way for long enough? It’s time…it’s time for me to get what I want.”

For the first time since he caught you and pinned you down on the floor of your living room, you struggle, really struggle for all you’re worth. The stiff leather of Tendou’s belt bites into your wrists and forearms as you try and get out of it, but the restraints hold firm—in fact, it feels like they’re getting tighter the more you move. Your hands are going numb from lack of blood flow, the prickles of pins and needles stinging into your skin, but you ignore it. You’re too worried about being heard to scream (and how twisted is it that you’re more scared of your neighbors than him?) but you jerk your leg up in an attempt to kick him away.

Tendou catches your foot before it can hit him. Easily. It’s like he sees everything you’re doing before you do it. “Hey, hey, stop that. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Let me go, Tendou!” you hiss as loudly as you dare.

“Senpai…” His grip on your lower thigh tightens, a warning. “What did I say about being nice?”

You go limp. You don’t want to have sex with him, but you cannot—absolutely cannot—have him do it unprotected.

Tendou sighs as you relax in his grasp. “Good choice… Always so rational. But I want you to say it out loud, okay? Tell me you know what’s going to happen if you misbehave.”

Once again, you find yourself avoiding his gaze. How dare he say he loves you and then treat you like this. “…You’re going to take off the condom.”

“Yeah…” Once again, you feel the thick, stiff cock nudging against your inner thigh. He slides it up between your lips to slick it up. “And what am I going to do when I take it off?”

“You’ll…put it in raw. And…”

“And?”

“…c-cum inside.”

“And you don’t want me to do that. So behave, senpai.”

Tendou pushes into you in one deep stroke and you gasp. ‘A little bigger than most guys,’ he’d said. A little bigger? He’s a liar, again—he’s so big that you can already feel the thick head flush against your cervix, pressing there like he wants to go deeper. “T-Too deep, it’s too deep—“

“Shh, you just gotta get used to it…” Tendou leans down, folding your legs up into your chest so he can trap you between him and the mattress and speckle light kisses over your face. “You have to relax. I’ll be slow.”

The position is uncomfortable. He’s got your spine curled up off the bed and your thighs are burning from the stretch, but his skin bumps against your clit every time he makes the slightest movement. Once you’re steady, he pulls back a fraction and then thrusts back into you, barely moving, just enough that you can feel the pressure of his cockhead receding and then hitting back against your cervix. It’s slow, but it’s not slow enough—nothing is slow enough with how big he is.

Tendou kisses you again, pulling your head back to center so he can shove his tongue into your mouth just like he’s shoving his cock into your pussy. He’s not content to keep up the languid pace for long, though—as soon as you’re the tiniest bit relaxed, as soon as the barest muffled whimpers are forced out of your mouth, he’s lengthening his thrusts and slapping the entire length of his heavy cock back in and out of you.

You almost wish he would stop dragging it out. You don’t want to feel this, any of this, not him groaning into your mouth, not the weight of his body holding you down and spreading your thighs apart, and definitely not the dizzying friction of the head of his cock on your g-spot. You wouldn’t even be feeling it like this if he hadn’t prepared you and left you wanting.

You close your eyes and try to pretend that it’s someone else doing it to you, but it’s impossible. Tendou was right earlier, it’s been too long—there’s no one else in recent memory who you can picture in his place. Besides, it’s not like you’ve ever been fucked like this. Everything you can sense is screaming out that it’s him, him, him, from his whiny voice moaning out love confessions you don’t want to hear to the spicy-sweet cologne, the same one he wears around the office, now mixed with his sweat and so saturated you think you could choke on it.

You’re trying to imagine someone else’s cock driving your pussy open, anyone else—a boy you had a crush on in high school, the guy you’d lost your virginity to in college, even an actor you like—but it doesn’t work, because no matter who you try to pretend is fucking you you know it’s Tendou.

“Hey—senpai, look at me…” He’s patting your cheek, trying to get you to meet his gaze. “Open your eyes…look what I’m doing to you.”

“Don’t…don’t make me…” You shudder as he pushes all the way back in, bottoming out so he can grind his hips cruelly against your mound and provide untidy stimulation to your clit.

“Look.” Tendou’s voice is hard. He isn’t asking anymore.

With the threat from earlier hanging over your head, you don’t have a choice, do you? You open your eyes and look at him.

Tendou Satori. Even in the middle of drilling you, he’s beaming like you’re making him happy. There are twin pink patches high on his cheekbones under his eyes. He’s sweating—makes sense, he’s doing all the work. His lips are red and swollen from kissing you.

Tendou Satori, who brings you coffee at work even when you didn’t ask for it. Who misspells the same word 3 different ways every time he writes up a sales contract. Who said during his first interview that his greatest weakness is that he has a habit of going with his gut, and that his greatest strength is that his gut is usually right.

How is this the same person? No…no, that’s not what’s making you upset. It’s not that the Tendou fucking you is somehow so different from the one you thought you knew. It’s that he’s the same, the same man who never really listens when you say no, who never stops touching you when you say it bothers you. This is just the next thing. It makes sense.

“Senpai?” Tendou’s hips slow and he leaves his cock sitting thick and hard in your battered pussy. “Senpai? Are you…you’re crying?”

He’s blurry and your eyes sting and you want to wipe at them, but, well, your hands are tied. Literally. Tendou holds himself over you with one arm so the other can thumb over your wet eyes. “Don’t touch me,” you blubber out, knowing it won’t have any effect.

“Shh, shh, stop crying,” he says, sounding panicked. “Please stop crying. Please stop.”

Your silent weeping is interrupted by a whimper as he pulls out of you. You feel…something, maybe relief or maybe disappointment, but mostly you’re just overwhelmed. You’re slack as a puppet while he flips you over and carefully unbuckles the belt from your arms. The pins and needles return in full force once you’re unbound, discomforting to the point of pain as Tendou massages over the tender flesh with his own hands.

“Sorry…Looks like it was a little too tight.”

Once Tendou’s released you, you hold up an arm to examine yourself. There are red marks where the edges of the belt dug into your skin. Your hands are still prickly, still desensitized as you clumsily rub your eyes, but you just can’t seem to stop crying.

“Shh,” Tendou says over your shoulder from where he’s sitting behind you, and you’re so sick of hearing him shush you but you can’t bring yourself to respond. “I love you, senpai… Please don’t cry.”

The way he says it—so hurt, so caring, so desperate, makes your heart ache. You’d almost believe him…if he weren’t pushing you back down onto the bed, face first this time. You don’t have the energy to resist as he pulls your ass up to his hips. At least now you can bite down on the sheet to shut yourself up as he fills your aching cunt again.

This time, though, now that he’s fucking you like a dog, he’s got the space to reach down around your hips and stroke your clit. The shock of the contact is enough to scare the tears out of your eyes and you cry out.

Tendou takes your response as permission to do more, rubbing over your button with no regard for how delicate and sensitive you’re feeling. “Yeah, yeah, you like that… Senpai likes it when I touch her needy little pussy? Come on, let me hear you.”

“Tendou—mmph, Tendou, st—ahh…?” But you can’t really tell him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. If you’re going to have to get fucked like this, shouldn’t you at least get to get off? It’s only fair.

Fair. The thought crosses your mind and you almost laugh—maybe you would if the force of Tendou’s body weight wasn’t smothering your face into the pillows. Nothing about this is fair.

“Do you like it?” You can hear how excited he is. “Tell me—tell me you like it, senpai? Please. Please?”

With trembling arms, you raise your upper body off the bed just enough so that you can turn your head to the side and speak. “Keep touching me. Like that.”

He does, padding over your clit senselessly while his cock does its brutal work on your insides. You feel…fucking amazing, and Tendou’s so happy, so grateful to have your beautiful pure dirty body holding onto him, sucking him into your cunt and holding yourself around him like you’ll fall apart if he’s not inside you filling you up. Your pussy is incredibly responsive, clenching down in him in time with his fingers moving on your clit. God, he could cum right now…but you have to cum first, he has to make you cum, it has to be together.

He’s so glad you’re not crying anymore. You like it, he knows you do. He’s had you getting closer and closer for a while now, and all the ups and downs and stopping you before you can cum are definitely making you need it even more.

You’re getting louder. You probably don’t even realize it, but you are. Tendou wishes he had something recording.

“I’m—fuck, I’m…c-cu…” Telling him is reflexive, a gesture of courtesy you’re used to from previous partners. He doesn’t deserve it, but you give it to him anyway.

“Gonna cum, baby?” Tendou coos. His touches grow even rougher somehow, abusing your clit while he nudges himself out so he can slide his cock back and forth over your g-spot. The aggressive rhythm of the stimulation has your spine arching up and he pushes you back down to keep you in place. “Stay down…let me do it for you.”

“Tendou!” you cry out, and he feels it, feels you cum, feels your whole body wracked with tremors, feels the walls of your cunt squeeze his cock like you’re trying to hold him inside. Fuck. Fuck. It’s too good, your pussy is so tight and warm and drenched in your juices, he can’t think, he wants it, wants to cum, wants to cum with you, together, together, together.

Tendou’s hand leaves your clit just in time to grip your ass and slam himself back into you, holding you impaled on his cock while both of you shudder through your post-orgasm aftershocks. “Senpai…senpai. I love you,” he gasps, and cums, hips jerking against yours as his mind goes blank for a second.

Fuck, it feels good, feels like his eyes are rolling back in his head.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

“Tendou…” It’s all you can say. You can feel him getting softer inside you, and he pulls out to take off the condom. Once he’s gotten rid of it, you let him flip you onto your side and lie next to you on the bed.

“How was that, senpai?” Tendou asks, kissing you slowly. He cuddles up to you, pulling your back into his chest so your bodies are fitted together like puzzle pieces. His heart is pounding like a rabbit’s—you’d think it was cute if not for…everything.

You’re quiet.

“I know you liked it.” Another kiss, this time on the back of your neck. “You needed it just as much as I did. And I know you won’t want to admit it at first, right? You’ve got your professional reputation to maintain, I get it. But don’t worry—“

You wish he would shut up. You wish he would leave you alone. You wish he wasn’t holding you so close that you can feel his cock against your ass, and you wish—you wish you couldn’t feel him getting hard, again.

“—this was just our first time. And there’s gonna be lots more. You and me? We’re going to be together forever, senpai.”

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[troubatrain]

with you around - n. patrick

a/n: so this is a repost of an old fic from my old blog that survived the purge when I deleted - there’s actually two parts i just need to find the other one to post it lmao. i’m tagging @prettyboybarzal​ because nolpat is the dream stoner boyfriend and there’s nothing you can do to convince me otherwise

You open your back door, sneaking out and walking to the back of the yard, climbing up the worn ladder to the tree house your parents built over a decade ago. You check your phone, knowing Nolan would have landed an hour ago which means he should be walking over to you now. You move the random throw pillows you’d collected over the years, trying to make the wooden house slightly more comfortable.

“You have got to stop making me climb up here,” You hear a deep voice huff, and you knew exactly who was on his way up.

“It’s tradition, Nolan,” You deadpan, it was how you both spent every first night of summer.

You watch as Nolan flicks on the old Christmas lights you’d hung up when you were sixteen. That was the first year you’d spent without the comfort of having your best friend next door. You were proud of Nolan, but it didn’t take away from how rough of a year it was without him. He finally plops down next to you, “So what’s been going home?”

“Same old, same old,” You say, pulling the joint from your hoodie pocket, twirling it in your hand.

Nolan laughs, “You’re going to get me in so much trouble one of these days.”

Regardless of his words, Nolan snatches the joint and lighter out of your hand, lighting the paper and taking a big puff, coughing as soon as he did.

“You’re losing your touch Nols,” You say, joking about when you were younger Nolan could smoke more than anyone - hockey being the only reason he’d stop. You take a huge puff of smoke, blowing it out easily.

“Why are we still friends? All you do is bully me,” Nolan says, nudging you with his shoulder lightly.

“You’re too grumpy for everyone else,” You say, “I just put up with it.”

Nolan laughs, and your heart swells at the sound. You’d missed him, and you were happy to have him with you. He looked like your Nolan when he was home, his eyes a little glassy from the joint, his cheeks rosy and full of joy, and his eyes that only ever seemed to be on you.

“How are you?” You ask, leaning your head on his shoulder. You knew he had a rough season with everything that was going on. You’d wished you could have been there but you got so wrapped in school you couldn’t find the time to make the trip out to Philly.

“Some days are good, some days are bad,” Nolan says solemnly, “I wish I got to play.”

“I wish you got to play too,” You say, moving your hand to run through his hair, “You’ll be back on the ice soon.”

You fell into a long conversation about what the other person had missed. Nolan told you about his year, living with Kevin and TK’s usual antics. You talked about how college was going, living out in Alberta to go to art school. You got so excited talking about your classes and what you’d been creating.

“Speaking of art school, take any thought to those post grad plans?” Nolan asks, looking down at you next to him.

You sigh, knowing what he’d been referring to. He mentioned it from time to time, moving to Philly with him after you finally graduated. He knew it was a good city to create art in and that you would have more opportunities out there. You weren’t sure if you wanted to up and leave everything you’ve ever known to move all the way to Philadelphia - even if it was with Nolan.

“I don’t know Nols,” You say.

He nods, it was the same answer you always gave him, “I just want you to have every opportunity you deserve.”

You smile, he’d always been your number one supporter. You sometimes think you could the worst painting in the world but Nolan wouldn’t hesitate to say he liked it. He didn’t totally understand art, and it definitely wasn’t his comfort zone but he always listened to you talk about it anyways. 

“I’ll give you an answer next summer,” you say, “Pinky promise.”

Nolan’s eyebrows raise at the seriousness of your voice, “A pinky promise?”

“Yeah Nols, let’s go, hold it out,” You say, holding your pinky out for his to link with yours.

“If it matters, I really want to have you out in Philly with me, you’ll love it,” Nolan says, throwing his arm around you to pull you closer.

Your face finds its usual spot, tucked right under Nolan’s chin, he still felt the same. He talked more about Philly, and all of the things about it he knew you’d love. You doze off, the sounds of Nolan’s deep voice putting you to sleep easily.

--

You scan the house party for the millionth time, waiting to see when Nolan was getting there. He had a late afternoon skate, and you knew for a fact that he was going to pass out afterwards - but at this point you thought he was never going to make it out.

“Are you looking for your other half?” You hear your friend, Kacey, say.

“He’s not my other half,” You say to the tattooed brunette next to you, her eyebrow raised at you, and you took a big gulp of your drink to try and avoid the topic all together.

“He wants you to move to Philly with him after you graduate,” Kacey says, “You’re practically married, and he’s here.”

Your whips around to the front door, Nolan walking in, his skateboard in hand and a case of beer in the other. 

You hear Kacey scoff at how quickly you turned your head, “I hate both of you really.”

Kacey walked away as soon as Nolan spotted you, walking over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug.

“Nice of you to show up,” You say, pulling back from his arms, “Take a good nap?”

“How did you know I was asleep?” Nolan says, grabbing a beer for himself.

You turn your head, giving him a knowing look, “We both know you’ve been passed out for the last like four hours.”

Nolan laughs, “You’re 100% right.”

Nolan sticks by your side for the rest of the night. He’s never been one for parties, even if all of his friends were there. You didn’t mind, having Nolan around allowed you to drink however much you wanted. You knew he’d keep you safe, and there wasn’t anything bad about having all of his attention. He’d been your partner for beer pong, ignoring the look Kacey was giving you from across the table. You had lost him eventually, after you insisted he danced along to the Blink 182 song that was playing on the speaker. 

“Nols!” You say, finally finding him across the party, leaning against the wall on his phone, you step in his arms, the alcohol blurring the boundaries you usually set for yourself. 

Nolan slipped his phone back into his pocket, one his hands moving to weave through your hair, “Ready to go?”

You nod, definitely ready to pass out. Nolan smiles, grabbing his skateboard he’d left right at the door, and your hand, walking right out the front door. 

Your mouth curves up to a smile, “Nols…” you whine, trying your best to pout at the boy in front of you.

Nolan sighs, turning around so you could hop onto his back. You jump up, legs wrapping around his waist. Nolan drops his skateboard, stepping onto it and heading in the direction of your house. It wasn’t the first time you made Nolan carry you home, it was so easy when he just could. 

“Are you ever going to get sick of this?” You mutter into his shoulder.

“Of what? Carrying you home?” Nolan asks, and you nod, “Nope.”

“You’re lying,” You tease, knowing there was no way Nolan hasn’t gotten sick of you yet. You’d been bothering him since the day he moved next door and you knew you wanted the rosy cheeked boy to be your best friend. Your eyes started to get heavy when Nolan finally hit your street, stopping in front of your house.

“Be sure to give me a five star rating,” Nolan says, bending down gently so he could get you down.

“Ride was a little bumpy, you can have four,” You say, opening the gate to the front of your house, “Get home safe Nols.”

Nolan rolled his eyes, waiting for you to walk into your house. He closed the gate behind you, walking over to his house to head to bed, checking his window one more time to make sure you were in bed before he fell asleep.

--

You walked around the small art supply store, the same place you’d been working in since you were sixteen. It was the best, you got a great employee discount and the older couple who owned it let you work when you were home from college. The bell above the door chimes, Nolan stepping into the store, two iced coffees in his hands.

“Is that Nolan?” Barbara, the owner of the store, called out as soon as he walked in, “Here to get Y/N into trouble?”

Nolan laughs, handing you your coffee and looking over to the older woman standing behind the counter, “If anything, I’m here to keep her out of trouble.”

You roll your eyes, “Hardly, Barb he can’t even tie his shoes.”

“I can! I just choose not too,” Nolan bickers back.

Barbara laughs at your antics, “You two are so funny, I’m going to run out, I think you guys can handle it?”

Nolan salutes the older woman while you snicker behind him, “I think she trusts us too much.”

“Us? It’s you she trusts too much,” Nolan says.

Nolan spends the rest of your shift at the store bothering you. He helped you stock the shelves, reading off the weird names of the paint bottles he was putting up. And when you asked Nolan why he was spending a beautiful summer day inside working with you, he just shrugs and tells you there's nothing he’d rather do.

--

Summer nights had always been spent the same. They were either at some party, the treehouse, or Nolan and yourself would just hang out in your room. He’d let you paint, setting up his own video games in your bedroom so he could keep you company. You both enjoyed your peace and quiet - but you enjoyed it even more with each other. 

Tonight was one of those nights, you were standing in the corner of your room, a blank canvas in front of you. You’d been looking for inspiration for almost a week, just having no idea what to even work on. You tie your hair up into a bun, and you step back, hands fiddling with the end’s of the oversized t-shirt you had over your shorts.

“What’s up with you?” Nolan asks, his focus not breaking the game he was playing.

“I don’t know what to paint,” You huff, hands on your hips.

Your mind ponders for a minute, and you pull out the box of polaroids next to your bed. You dump them on your bed, hoping you took a picture that could spark something. Nolan pauses his game, moving to look at the picture you poured out. There were ones of him, and ones you took when you came to see him in Philly. There were images of your friends, your roommates at college, and your family. You took your camera with you everywhere, you just liked having the memories. Nolan pulls a photo up, of someone’s back painted with a scene of the beach.

“Oh that’s Kacey,” You say, it was something you’d seen on Instagram that you wanted to try.

“You could do that to me?” Nolan says, voice deeper than usual.

You think about it for a moment, Nolan was big, and quite frankly his back wasn’t a bad canvas, “Okay turn around.”

You move to grab some paint and some brushes, watching as Nolan grabs the back of his t-shirt, tossing it in the corner of your room. You shake any of the dirty thoughts that ran through your head as you sit next to him. Nolan turns to you, grabbing your leg and swinging it over his waist so you were straddling him, grabbing his controller and going back to his game. You take a deep breath, and get to work. You think about what you’re going to paint, but you just let your mind rest - painting whatever came to your mind at the moment.

“Tell me if the paint is too cold for you,” you say, moving to create some sort of base on his back.

“I think I can handle it, Y/N” Nolan deadpans. 

You start to think about Nolan and the thing he loves most, painting a forest in the back that looked like the one at lake you’d both spent your summers at. You painted evergreen trees and a glimpse of the lake in the corner. Quite frankly, by the time you were done you were proud of yourself.

“Take a picture, I want to see,” Nolan says.

You grab your phone, snapping a photo and tossing it to Nolan, “This is sick, you should really draw me something to get tattooed.”

“You don’t trust me that much,” You say, glancing at the photo on your screen, “Can I post this on my Instagram story?”

You ask, you always did. Nolan was a private person, and you knew he liked it that way. It was better than having to deal with him when he was grumpy.

“Go for it,” Nolan smiles, “I should probably head out.”

“Don’t sleep with that on your back,” You scold, watching Nolan as he goes to climb out the window of your bedroom, “Use the door, we’re adults Nolan.”

“I’ll be fine,” Nolan assures you, climbing down just like he used to when you’d hang out all night instead of sleeping.

You clean up your brushes and paint, trying to shove the feelings about the way Nolan’s back muscles moved under your touch to the back of your mind, to be locked up forever. You slide into bed, checking your phone to see only one notification, a DM from TK.

Tell me that’s Nolan

--

With summer came a various string of weekends up at the lake with your friends. The older you’d gotten, the more fun the weekends had become. You were all almost adults, just riding out one of the last summers together, and you all decided to rent out the house you usually did, cause it might be one of the last times you do. You sat in the passenger seat of Nolan’s jeep, just like you always did. Your coffee in one hand, and Nolan’s phone in the other, mindlessly changing the songs for the ride. You glance over at Nolan, the roof was off his jeep, and his hair had hit the morning light just right. He looked good, he always did.

“Did you really have to tell TK that was me in your story? He hasn’t stopped making fun of me for days,” Nolan says, looking at you.

“You guys spend so much time together, I think he just knew,” You say, knowing they’re basically a married couple at this point.

Nolan shakes his head, turning up the street to the lake house. You spot all the cars that were already there, knowing you and Nolan had to have been the last people to arrive. You run inside, leaving Nolan to grab your bag out the trunk, running right into Kacey’s arms.

“Don’t be mad at me,” Kacey says, pulling back, “I miscounted and there’s one room left so you and Nolan are going to have to bunk up.”

Nolan walks in during Kacey’s sentence, “That’s fine, which one is it.”

Kacey points to the room upstairs, Nolan nodding, your bags already in his hands to bring upstairs. You turned to Kacey when he was out of earshot, “You did this on purpose.”

“If rooming together is all it would take to get you guys together, it’s not the rooming together it’s the fact that you guys are obsessed with each other,” Kacey says.

“Best friends, we are best friends,” You defended, you knew better though. Something was shifting between the two of you, but you didn’t know if it was from getting older or if it was something more.

Kacey shakes her head at you while you head up to your room, Nolan unpacking his stuff.

“You’re okay sharing a room?” you ask, knowing you could bunk with Kacey if you really had to.

“I’m fine with it, I’m going to go fishing with the boys for a bit, I’ll see you after?” Nolan says, stopping at the bedroom.

“No I’m actually going to go home,” you say sarcastically, unpacking your own bags.

You spend the rest of the afternoon next to the lake, getting a tan and day drinking with Kacey and the rest of your girlfriends. You guys head inside, setting up for the party you were throwing for the rest of your friends who’d been up at the lake too. You get dressed for the silly tourist theme you’d planned, tucking the terrible Hawaiian shirt you’d bought into the jean shorts you were wearing. Nolan pops out behind you and you take in his outfit, the shorts that hit above his knee, showing off his thigh tattoo, the Hawaiian shirt that matches yours, and his god awful mid calf socks. He had his vans on - and of course they were untied.

“You have the worst taste in fashion,” You laugh, Nolan striking a pose in response.

“Sorry we’re all not you, I can’t make this shirt look good,” Nolan says, poking at your sides gently, causing you to blush.

He walked out of the room and you took a deep breath, trying to collect your thoughts. It was now or never with your feelings, you either had to tell him or you had to just get over him but you couldn’t keep pushing them down, it was going to drive you crazy. You move down to the party, seeing it’s in full swing already. You grab a drink, moving to go play drinking games with Kacey. After a few hours, you were a little buzzed but mostly sweating from the heat inside. You step out, walking over to the docks and staring out at the lake in front of you. You hear heavy footsteps behind you, and you knew it had to be Nolan.

“Needed a minute?” Nolan asks, knowing you would disappear from parties from time to time, and you nod because he was always right.

“Nols, can I ask you something?” You ask, your voice small, a tiny amount of courage guiding you to ask him a question that’d you wanted to ask since he got home, “Do things feel different between us?”

“Do you want them too?” Nolan asks, looking over at you with rosy cheeks, and a nervous look in his eyes.

“So badly,” You whisper, looking into his eyes that had gone soft at your words. Nolan leans in and you stop him for a moment, “Nolan this has to mean something to you too.”

“Everything, it means everything,” Nolan says finally, planting a kiss on your lips, your bodies molding together out on the dock underneath a twinkly night sky. It felt so right for your lips to be on his, your hands running through your hair, and hearing him finally say that he felt the same you have.

“So Philly?” Nolan asks, finally pulling away, the question he asked you when he first got home still burning.

“We’ll talk later,” You promise, stealing another kiss from his lips.

[starsmuserainbow]

[[Before I start, this is based on my headcanons, and in no way official stuff or anything.]]

Today, the 14th of October, is what the tamaraneans call Trie’hr!

What is Trie’hr, you ask? It is a time that the tamaraneans take for honoring the “fallen ones” (which means anyone that died, regardless of if in battle or not). Or grieving, commemorating, however you might want to call it.

How is it celebrated? During this day, the whole atmosphere of Tamaran changes. The otherwise active, and energy-filled population spends the day a lot calmer, rarely actually flying or using their energy. They wear grey instead of their usual purple, and many also don’t wear their usual armor. The people carry around gems or rocks - depending on what they have as remains of their lost ones - as symbols for those they have lost. Sometimes, these symbols are attached to the grey clothing, and sometimes they are carried around in baskets or bags or similar. Of course, it is a different amount for everyone, and some may have a very big amount of stones/gems to carry around with them - if it becomes too much to physically carry, they might stay home on the whole day instead. The tamaranean participating will still try to do their normal activities, despite their focus being more on thoughts about those they have lost. This day of letting out all the feelings about their losses is a way to help to make the sorrow or sadness lighter during the rest of the time.

What does this mean for your blog? Well, if we’re mutuals (if you’re reading this on my sideblogs then please remember that I follow back from @starfirechan and not from here), I understand that as permission to maybe have my tamaranean come into your inbox to talk about the day with you. It’s unlikely to happen though, as Trie’hr isn’t exactly an occasion that gives them a wish to interact with someone. - If this ever bothers you but you still wish to keep following me, please tell me that you do not like this and I will make a note to keep you out of this. Please also see this as an open invitation to have your muse come to my askbox (or tag me in a post if you prefer) and show interest in what’s going on with my tamaraneans or to join in in the “celebration” if your muse might know of it. I will most likely also reblog open starters that I did for a previous iteration of this festivity on some of my muses, and you’re welcome to answer to that.

I’d prefer it if there is a sort-of logical explanation for why your character knows of the tamaranean festival. As for my muses participating: - Starfire has honored Trie’hr in the previous years too, and she will do so today as well. The team is aware, and tries to keep battles away from her on this day as she wouldn’t be good at them in this state. - Blackfire doesn’t really care much for her planet’s festivities, and she also tends to not be aware of dates much, not to mention that something like grieving is definitely not her thing anyway, so she won’t be participating. (Your muse is free to ask her about it if they learned through someone else, though) - Wildfire has not been aware of the occasion during his time on Tamaran, or maybe he just doesn’t remember it anymore. But Starfire has told him about it last time, and he tries to honor the festivity at least in some way. So far not by carrying gems or stones along with him (he doesn’t really like the idea of counting the amount he’d ‘need’ yet), but he’ll at least wear the right color of clothing. - Galfore definitely participates, though he is on Tamaran so the average earthen-bound muse will likely not know, or learn through him about the festivity. - Moonshot definitely participates, in a way. He doesn’t have any gems or stones of those he remembers, but he will wear something grey and, since he lacks objects to carry around, simply won’t be moving much/at all throughout the whole day. - Starlight isn’t aware of any tamaranean festivity, so she doesn’t participate. If she would know of it being the day though, she very much would join in despite usually not being interested in doing tamaranean celebrations while on earth. Showing grief, remembering what she lost, is important enough to still do it, even when on another planet.

There are probably multiple ways your muses could have learned about it, and I’m open to those. But if e.g. an ‘ordinary human’ with no previous contact to anything alien related whatsoever suddenly knows of Trie’hr I just don’t think I could enjoy it that much.

Oh, and one more thing! This occasion also means that I will put a certain priority on it, should any threads come from it. I will see to get at least some other replies done too, but I will try to focus things that relate to it. And for the next week or so, Trie’hr-related threads (along with Halloween threads, if some of those come) will be handled prioritized over others.

I think that’s all I need to explain; if there are any questions, always feel free to come into my inbox and ask me! All the threads or (IC-)posts related to Trie’hr will be tagged with: #The day of remembrance; Trie’hr is here

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Benny and Techie Have It Out

The Pool Masterlist Pairing: Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader Rating: Mature Warnings: Cursing; angst; mentions of past asshole exes; there’s a happy ending, I promise! Not beta-read Notes: Requested by @monicabennerman-blog (it wouldn’t let me tag you 😫) Summary: It’s not the first time you’ve gotten that answer from someone you’ve dated.

It doesn’t come on all at once - and it doesn’t even bother you at first. You’ve heard Borracho talk about his family a ton, is the thing, you know how important they are to him. The two of you have been dating for nearly six months, so you’re… A little worried about the fact that you haven’t met them yet. You try to bring it up a few times, mostly when Borracho mentions he’s going over to hang out with them for the afternoon. “Maybe I could come with you?” You offer, but he just pecks your lips and murmurs, “Next time, sweetness.” And the first two, three times? Fine. But the tenth time, it grates on you.

And it’s not the first time you’ve gotten that answer from someone you’ve dated. But in the past, it’s never been for a good reason - it’s been because exes haven’t thought you were serious, or have wanted to break up with you and haven’t known how, choosing instead to string you along until you cut the cord. So this time, when you ask, and when he returns his answer of, “Next time, sweetness,” You mutter, “Bullshit.” And that stops him at the door. He turns back to face you as he straightens his jacket. “What?” You shake your head, wave him back toward the door. “What did you say,” He’s more firm now, taking two steps deeper into your apartment. “You heard what I said,” You rise off of the couch, grabbing the plates from the breakfast the two of you shared on your couch and heading into your kitchen, “Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped walking.” Borracho follows, watching as you start to passive-aggressively scrub at the dishes. “I heard it, I’m just wondering where the fuck it came from.” “Well then why didn’t you ask where the fuck it came from instead of acting like you need a hearing aid?” “What has gotten into you?” “If there’s not going to be an actual ‘next time’,” You shut the faucet off and turn to face Borracho as you scoop up a dish towel to dry your hands on, “Then you need to tell me that. Don’t just--” You wave a hand at Borracho, “Don’t just keep on pushing off me meeting your family like it’s gonna happen if you don’t want it to ever happen.” “Who says I don’t want it to?” “No one’s said it, but with the way you’ve been acting, you don’t have to. Do they even know about me?” “They know I’m seeing someone.” “Someone.” “Yeah.” “They don’t even know my name?” “Not yet.” Yet. Yet feels as bad as ‘next time’. “Not yet,” You repeat quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose, “Okay, well maybe you can clue me in. Is there some kind of information phasing that you typically use with your family?” “What about you? I haven’t met your family.” “Yeah, because they live on the other side’a the fuckin’ country, Ben!” You snap, “If they lived here, I would’ve introduced you by now. Fuck, I tried to put you on the phone with my mom two weeks ago!” “I didn’t wanna talk to her, I don’t know her!” “What the fuck did you think I was holding the phone out for!” You’re yelling now, both of you. Borracho shakes his head, takes two steps back, says, “I’m going.” “Do whatever the fuck you want.” -- 

You’re not expecting the bell to ring half an hour later. You frown. You aren’t expecting any packages, haven’t ordered any food. You press the talk button, ask who it is, then wait for the answer. “Can I come up?” He sounds miserable, even through the feed. And fuck, you wanna say no. You curl your hand into a fist and rest it next to the intercom for a moment. The irritation hasn’t disappeared, yet, is the thing. You’re still dealing with it, it’s still bubbling in your stomach like some shitty bicarbonate soda. You take in a deep breath, push it out through your mouth, press ‘talk’ the button, prepared to tell him to leave… Then you say nothing, hit the button to open the door instead. You walk over to the front door and unlock it for Borracho like you always do when he’s coming up. You go back into the kitchen. You haven’t finished cleaning up yet. As soon as Borracho left, you’d just started walking around your apartment, mentally continuing the argument that the two of you had been having - and winning it. You hear the door open, then close. You hear Borracho’s footsteps come down the hall, round the living room, stop at the entrance to your kitchen. You don't turn to look at him, just keep at your task. “Can we talk?” “Go right ahead,” You answer. “No, sweetness,” You pet name is tight in his throat, “I wanna talk to you, not at you.” You set down what’s in your hands and place your palms flat on the counter before you nod. Borracho comes further into the kitchen, stops at the counter beside you. He doesn’t reach out to touch you, doesn’t draw you to soothe the hurt with a kiss. It won’t solve anything and the both of you know it. “I’ve got a… A reputation with my family for jumping into shit too quick,” He says; his voice is quiet, a little apologetic, “After my divorce, there were a lot of women that I brought around, but they never stuck around long. On top’a that… My family didn’t think too highly of then. And I’ll be honest, those girls, they were just fun, I wasn’t serious about them. I’m serious about you. I just… I gotta ease ‘em into this. I don’t want them saying shit about you, not like that. Not like them.” Your hands curl into fists again, and you’re fighting to keep your eyes on the counter as your stomach churns. “Why didn’t you just tell me that? I mean-- No, Ben, listen,” You shake your head as you hear Borracho wind up to say something else, “You’ve been saying ‘next time’ like--? For months now. Months. And giving someone that expectation and then just yanking it away time after time after time--” “It wasn’t fair,” Borracho concedes, “I’m sorry.” You nod, let your head hang. “I’m sorry, too. The way I approached this was-- Really bad. I should’ve just told you that this was bothering me... And I shouldn’t have yelled.” Borracho does reach for you, then, and murmurs, “C’mere.” You go, curl into his chest, wrap your arms around him and press your face into his shoulder. He gathers you close, and you feel a tension to him. “I shouldn’t keep you too long,” You mumble after you’ve held to him for a while, “You’ll be late to get to Gabriel’s.” “Texted, told him I would be,” Borracho’s words are muffled against your shoulder. You smile a little bit, rub your hand between his shoulders. “Go on,” You urge him. He leans away just enough to duck in for a kiss. You sigh, sliding your hands up to settle on either side of his neck. “Can I come by...After?” He mumbles. You hum, nodding a little. “Gotta leave to come back, though,” You tease. You feel him smile against your lips and that makes you grin. You want to tell him that you love him but-- well the two of you haven’t used that word yet, and you’re not sure if the moment after a fight, right before he goes to see his family is the best time. You peck his lips one more time before you lean away. “I’m sorry again,” You murmur. He nods a little, rests his forehead against yours. “I am, too.” You pat his cheek. “Get outta here, Magalon.” --

You get a text from him later that says, ‘my entire family says you’re too hot for me’ It makes your heart swoop and you laugh aloud. Tag list: @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ ; @jedi-mando​

[random-mha-thoughts]

Clueless (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Anon requested: “I just thought of something funny!! Can you do a scenario where Bakugou and his fem!reader were walking when all of sudden this female admirer came out of nowhere and holds a love letter infront of them. She says "please accepts my feelings" but Bakugou refuses the proposal and but then she says "not you, her" and the reader is all flustered!! She might even response back just to mess with Bakugou and he turns all jealous and argues with the admirer. 🤣😂"

Genre: Crack/fluff

Word count: 1,025

Tags:  @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: I’ve been dying to write this one since I got it last week, it was such a funny idea! Thank you for sliding me this request anon dear 💖 This ended up being short, crackity, and sweetly ended, so I hope you enjoy!

"Why are you so mad today?" Bakugou swaggers next to me, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other holding his bag behind his shoulder.

"I'm not," I answer curtly.  My arms are crossed over my chest as we walk away from school to the train station together.

The boy rolls his eyes.  "Come on, I know you too well to know that you're angry right now.  What gives?"

"Well, if you know me so well, you should know why I'd be angry, don't you think?"

He growls under his breath.  I know how much he hates it when I counter him like that.  "I don't know!  I'm a guy, I don't understand the things that mean a lot to you girls."

"Good to know you admit that you're an idiot," I retort.  "But I'll give you a hint.  Take a look around and think of what you see."

His scarlet eyes scan around us in puzzlement.  He just barely glances at the six inch distance between us, to my utter dismay.  He even looks to his other side and to our surroundings, and I want to slap my face in dismay.  "Whatever, it's nothing, don't worry about it," I tell him with a sigh.  It's not worth getting bent out of shape and causing a fight just because he can't see it.  Even if I have brought it up a few times already, but it's fine.

"Come on, tell me what it is so I can make it right at least."  

Bakugou may be a hothead, but I know he still cares, which is why I almost softened at his request, but I still want to bust his chops.  "If I just tell you, then you'll be apologizing without fully understanding the problem, so no."

"(Y/n), please-"

"Um, excuse me?"

Both of us turn at the mysterious voice, revealing a flustered girl looking down at her shoes.  I think I've seen her before, she's in one of the other classes and she might be in the art club.

"Yes, what is it?" I answer politely.

Without moving from her spot, she bows her head and holds out a small, white envelope sealed closed with a heart sticker.  "Please accept my feelings!" she squeaks out, mustering all her courage into the confession.

Anger bubbles inside me.  This was bound to happen; I know how popular and handsome Bakugou is, but he's still so stubborn about it.

Bakugou scratches the back of his head and groans.  "Sorry about that, I'm not in the market for dating right now."

I bristle even more.  Idiot, the first thing out of your mouth should be that you're taken already, I fume to myself.

"Oh, not you, Bakugou-san," she straightens up, "I mean (Y/n)-san."

At first, I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment.  Since when do I have admirers?  But one look at Bakugou's appalled and reddened face in rage and I'm smirking in my head.

Ha.

I show the girl a pleasant smile as I coo, "Aren't you so brave?  I'm so flattered you'd have a crush on me."

Bakugou's head snaps to me so fast I think it might have cracked off, and the girl's face also swells.

"Hey, what are you getting at?" my boyfriend glares at me with narrowed eyes.

I shrug nonchalantly.  "Now that I think about it, being in a relationship with a girl would be convenient.  I wouldn't have to worry about hiding my period stuff and shaving all the time, not to mention girls generally have a much better sense for emotions and discerning underlying problems in relationships."  Am I being too petty?  No, I don't think so.

I can see Bakugou's jaw grinding against his teeth even as he turns his head away to block out my obvious dig at him, and I'm satisfied enough at being able to taunt him like that.  I lock eyes with the girl, who's waiting for my final answer hopefully.  "I'm sorry, sweetie, but I'm taken already."  I place a hand on her deflated shoulder and offer a reassuring smile.  "You should be so proud of yourself for gathering the courage to give me your confession.  And don't sell yourself short, there's plenty of other fish in the sea, you'll find someone else."

Her eyes sparkle and her mouth parts slightly in awe before nodding and bowing at me.  "Thank you for the kind words, (Y/n)-san, it means a lot to me!  And I'm sorry to bother you!"

"It's no problem," I wave off the apology sweetly.  "Get home safe!"

She's still deflated but relaxed as she trudges off.  As I wave farewell, my smile slowly shrinks into a thin line.  I had my fun with my mini-punishment to Bakugou, making him all angry and flustered the way I usually am, but this is exactly the problem that he hasn't been so keen on noticing.

I turn around and resume walking towards the train station.  "This is exactly what you get for keeping our relationship a secret," I huff in a dignified manner.

I don't have to look at Bakugou to know that he's doing a double take with his jaw gaping open.  "Are you kidding me?!  That's what this is about?!"  His footsteps jog to catch up with me.

"Did it feel good seeing someone else come and confess to you?"

He grumbles under his breath before answering, "No..."

"I see.  So now you understand."

"You didn't have to tease me like that, you know."

"You wouldn't have clearly understood how I felt otherwise, so I had to teach you."  I chuckle to myself.  "Though, that wasn't staged, that was completely real."

Bakugou growls, "That wasn't funny, (Y/n)."

"I know it isn't, Bakugou."

After a few more moments of grumbling under his breath, his warm hand slithers around mine.  "I-Is this better?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice his cheeks are brushed red.  The gesture and his reaction both make me smile secretly to myself.  "It's a start."  Stupid Bakugou, we could've been doing this earlier if you weren't such a coward.

[severetimetravelnerd]

I Don’t Know (ft. G Dragon and MINO) (8)

Part 8

Jiyong finds out what happened with Jae and Yuna tries to talk to Mino.

This series will be updated once a week, every Friday! No specific time though lol. It’s an AU where Jiyong has a younger sister and you’re her best friend! Featuring my OC Mirae as the Best friend. Just saying, it’s not related to any of the scenarios I’ve written so far. Please do leave me some comments or asks! I love receiving them! It’s also a bit of a love triangle situation, so yeah :)) There will be eventual smut in this series.

(I don’t own any of the images used. All credit goes to the original owners.)

I only write on this blog on tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.

Also, just clarifying. The Jae here is not Park Jaehyung from Day6. It’s just the name.

Happy New Year Folks!! :)) Here’s to hoping 2021 is a better year for everyone :) I sincerely hope everyone had a great day and have great years of happiness and health ahead :)

Taglist:

@kwonnansi​

@unabashedturkeytreeslime​

@happiestgirlontheeastcoast​

@yee-hawwwwwwww​

@slayergroupie0128​

@herewecomeitsjekki​

@happygirl327​

@to-all-the-stories-i-love​

Please comment if you’d like to be added to the tag list:))

Word Count: 3753

WARNINGS: cheating, slight violence(punches to the face), sexist remarks, smut (overstimulation and safe word usage). 

——————————————-

You started coughing violently before walking out of the room, excusing yourself. You walked straight past Minho, not even realising that there was someone standing there, but that was okay, because Minho didn’t realise you walked past him either. Yuna had turned around to see if you were okay and she saw Minho. Minho was so lost in staring at her, overcome by a rush of anger and sadness, he didn’t notice Jae excuse himself to check on you. Jiyong did though.

You ran to the bathroom and got there just in time before another violent coughing fit hit you. Why Jae of all people? He was the one person who working with was worse than working with Jiyong. And on top of that, Yuna came with him. Jae had been cheating on you. You didn’t tell anyone that was the reason for your break up though. When people asked, you just said you drifted apart, but it was actually because you caught him with another girl. He was drunk and they were making out, going to their bedroom when you walked in.

5 years ago

“Jae?”

He turned and smirked at you, pulling you into a kiss seconds after making out with that other woman.

“Y/N, babe. Wanna join?”

You started to feel sick. Nauseous.

“Anyway, you’re cheating on me with Jiyong.”

His eyes furrowed.

“Why do you look so sad? Oh. Okay, fine. You can invite Jiyong to join us too.”

Voice strained, you asked,

“How long Jae? How long have you been cheating on me?”

“Ever since I figured out that you were cheating on me with that bastard. I think it was at Sohyun’s wedding?”

You nearly fell right there. He had been cheating on you for three months? Because he thought you were cheating on him with Jiyong? Jae jolted you out of it by grabbing your phone.

“Let me call him to join us. I have a bunch of questions for him anyway.”

“What?! Jae, no!”

“Hello? Jiyong?”

“…What the fuck Jae? Why’re you calling me from Y/N’s phone? Is she okay??”

“Yeah, she’s fine. I actually wanted to ask-”

You grabbed your phone back, choking on a sob.

“No, Jiyong, it’s fine. Don’t worry. He’s just drunk.”

“Y/N, are you sure? You don’t sound okay.”

You couldn’t hold back the sob any longer.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. It’s perfect.”

And you cut the call. You turned to look at Jae and the very uncomfortable looking girl.

“Jae, we’re done. Don’t ever contact me again.”

You walked out to go to your car and cry. Jae never apologised. Nor did he follow you to your car. He just didn’t care. You don’t remember much of what you thought that night. But you did remember thinking that even if you could go back in time and change that one night at the wedding with Jiyong, you wouldn’t.

 ---

All those memories came rushing back, and you started feeling nauseous again. That’s when you felt very familiar hands brush back hair from your face. His touch made you feel even worse.

“What’s wrong Y/N?”

“Jae, get away from me.”

“But my poor Y/N looks a little unwell.”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

Jae laughed and took a few steps back.

“I was not expecting to see you here Y/N. Good to know I was right though.”

“Right about what?”

“About you and Jiyong, of course. Not going to lie, I felt slightly guilty about that night after seeing your reaction when you saw me with her, but now, I feel like I’m more than justified.”

You were about to say something, but Jiyong’s voice interrupted you.

“What night?”

You panicked when you saw a very angry Jiyong standing in the doorway. Furious, he repeated,

“What night Jae?”

Jae looked between the two of you and laughed.

“Oh, you never told him? Come on Y/N, you should have. At least you would have felt better after he beat me up.”

“Why would I beat you up?”

Jiyong’s eyes slowly travelled to you. You knew he was trying to ask you whether you didn’t tell him something, but didn’t want to voice it, scared he would cross a line.

“Well, after Y/N here found me in bed with another woman, I asked her to join us. I also told her to invite you. After all, if I could invite someone, she could also invite the person she was cheating on me with. That’s why I called you that night.”

Jiyong looked murderous. You knew he would want to kill Jae. Right there. But he kept looking at you, hurt more than anything else that you didn’t tell him.

“Your girlfriend caught you cheating. And you invited her to join?”

Jae shrugged.

“I mean, I wasn’t the only one. She had been cheating on me with you for ages.”

Jiyong was about to lose it. You could see that. But you weren’t bothered. Because you were also about to lose it.

“Jae, get the fuck out.”

“Why Y/N? Does seeing me here bother you?”

“Yeah it does Jae. Because I haven’t beaten up someone since middle school and you’re about to make me change that. So, before I do, get out of here you piece of shit.”

“Ha. That’s rich coming from someone who pretty much just slept their way up.”

There was an eerie silence after that. Jae was looking away and smirking. You stared at him, shocked at his audacity. Jiyong stared at you, willing you to let him kill Jae. You turned to Jiyong. He was begging you to let him punch Jae. At the very moment you nodded to Jiyong, too tired to do it yourself, Jae opened his mouth,

“What? Nothing to say to that? I guess it’s true.”

Jae didn’t know what hit him when Jiyong’s fist met his face. He stumbled to the side when Jiyong grabbed his collar and punched him again. And again. And again. Until he felt your hand on his shoulder. Although he was still mad, he dropped Jae’s collar and looked at you, wondering what to do. Jae lay there coughing up blood and wiping his bloody lips. You glared at him.

“Leave him be Jiyong. He’s a model. You can’t mess up his face more than this.”

And you grabbed Jiyong’s hand and walked out.

Jiyong looked pissed, but also confused.

“Where are we going?”

Without turning back to look at him, you muttered,

“Look at your hand. You caught it in Jae’s nose piercing. It’s a mess.”

And sure enough, when he looked down, his hand was a bloody mess. You pulled him into the infirmary and whipped out your phone. Your tone was calm when Somin picked up the call.

“Hey. Jiyong tripped over something, so we’re in the infirmary. We’ll get back to the meeting in a while.”

You turned to him and your voice was pretty disconnected when you spoke.

“Sit.”

You grabbed a first aid kit and started disinfecting his hand. He hissed when the disinfectant touched the wound. You didn’t say anything, but you become a lot gentler.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Jae?”

“I don’t know. This was when I liked you. I didn’t want you pitying me, or being mean to me because you felt like he had a point.”

His voice softened.

“I wouldn’t have done that.”

“Really? Can you really say that? Because you were very mean to me otherwise.”

“I’m sorry. I owe you an apology. A lot of apologies actually.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“For being mean to you. For hurting your feelings. For saying what I did when you confessed. For leaving you alone that night. For taking you for granted. For constantly snapping at you. For pushing you away to the point where you felt like you couldn’t tell me about your toxic ex because I would make it worse. For snapping at you when you called me Ji simply because I was scared it would give me hope for something that I didn’t think would happen because I li-”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

You looked up, meeting his pleading eyes.

“Jiyong, I’m in a happy, healthy relationship. I’m happy with Minho. Please just be happy for me. I haven’t completely forgiven you for everything, because Jiyong, I’ll be honest. You scarred me. For years, I thought something was my fault. I thought I wasn’t enough and that’s why you hated me. And you never cared. I’m treating you normally now because we have to work together for a while. That’s it.”

He looked so painfully resigned that you couldn’t help your heart from hurting.

“Yeah, I know. That’s enough for me. But please don’t cut me out of your life. You’re someone very important to me.”

You backed away after bandaging his hands, leaving Jiyong feeling rather empty from the loss of contact.

“I don’t know Jiyong. We’ll see.”

 ---

While Jiyong was pouring his heart out to you, Yuna excused herself saying she was going to follow you, but she shut the door behind her and went up to Minho. Eyes regretful, she grabbed his sleeve,

“Hey.”

“Hey? Really? That’s what you have to say to me.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Minho.”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that.”

“Don’t you want an explanation for why I did what I did?”

Minho stopped breathing for a second. That was the one thing he desperately craved. He needed to know why he wasn’t enough. She knew.

“Minho, it wasn’t because of you. You were amazing. It’s just. I met Jiyong years ago, at a fan sign, and he helped me out. He probably doesn’t remember it, but I fell for him.”

His voice broke.

“So, you dated me to get to Jiyong hyung?”

“Minho, but please. I love you. Please. Please can we try this again?”

“You love me?” He laughed. “What bullshit. If you did, you never would have done what you did.”

“Minho please. I’m so sorry. I’ve never regretted anything more.”

He pulled away from her.

“I have a girlfriend. Leave me alone.”

And he walked off. What was odd however, was that she didn’t seem too upset about that as she kept an eye out for Jiyong to return. Minho managed to walk away, but the moment he closed the door behind him, all he could think about was what she said. And how you had liked Jiyong. And known him for years. And how she dated him to get to Jiyong. Fucking hell. Why Jiyong of all people?

 ---

You somehow managed to get though the day, the only good part of which was seeing Jae stammer as he lied about tripping somewhere. The moment you walked out of the office though, you called up the one person you needed to see.

“Hey Mirae. Wanna get some coffee together?”

“For you to offer me coffee, you must be really out of it. What’s up?”

You smiled. You needed to just relax with your best friend for a while.

“Nothing much. Just... it was a long day.”

“Sure. I’m home right now, so you can come over if you want.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in ten. Keep some sweat pants out for me.”

 You lay back relaxing on her couch, blissfully wiggling your arms in the oversized sweatshirt and comfy pants she gave you.

“I’m stealing these.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

You sat up and sipped on the lemon tea she made you and you could almost feel the tension leave your body.

“Okay, spill.”

You took a deep breath and turned to face her.

“You remember Jae, right?”

Her expression turned wary.

“Yes, I do. Asshole.”

“Yeah, he’s playing Jiyong in the MV. And Minho’s ex Yuna is playing… the girl.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, I know.”

You recounted the day’s events for her, leaving out the bit about him turning up at your apartment drunk and you buying him breakfast the next morning. Mirae always hated Jae, so you knew she’d be mad when she found out, but she just remained silent. Then you told her about what Jiyong said, or rather almost said and how you cut him off.

“He never really cared about me anyway.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

You stared at her, dumbfounded.

“I definitely wouldn’t say that.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“He’s gotten you home when you were drunk on more than one occasion. He’s taken care of you when you couldn’t walk straight. He took it upon himself to cheer up the woman he loved after her boyfriend was an asshole to her at Sohyun’s wedding. He’s comforted you whenever he felt you needed it. Granted, he didn’t know his behaviour caused it most of the time. I have never seen him as worried as he was the day you fainted and he carried you home. He keeps your confession in his wallet. Women don’t stay with him because he can’t stop thinking about you. You’re the only one who can comfort him and cheer him up when he’s feeling low. You managed to get him to cut down on his smoking. He sleeps well only around you. Y/N, you matter to him. A lot.”

“What… Love? Mirae, I thought you didn’t like the thought of us together.”

“I didn’t. Because he didn’t realise he liked you and you never called him out on shit when he was mean to you. It was bad for both of you. Worse for you though. But now, he’s changed. You’ve changed. And now, I think it’ll be better. I don’t know whether I’ll like it, but it’ll be better now. You’re happy with Minho though, so I’m not saying to break up with him. I just want you to know that… things are different now. He still has a lot to make up for. Years of him being toxic aren’t just going to disappear. But even though he told me not to tell you, I feel like you have a right to know about the things he’s done for you over the years. I may be harsh on him, but he’s my brother. And you’re my best friend. And in the end, I just want both of you to be happy. You don’t have to be happy together. Just…be happy.”

You stared at her in shock. She sighed.

“I know. I know you never knew about any of this. And maybe I should have told you earlier. But you were just beginning to get over him when you cut him out of your life and that was what you needed then. Now, things are weird. You’re working with him but you’re in a happy relationship with Minho. He likes you but he’s not trying to make a move on you, although his album is literally about you.”

“I liked him for all these years and he never said anything?”

“He liked you before you liked him. And he didn’t say anything because he was an idiot. And he was scared. And that made him an ass. Don’t get me wrong. He was a Grade A jackass, but I think you should know this.”

You couldn’t comprehend all of this. You felt overwhelmed by this crushing pain. All those years that you liked him, he liked you back? Instead of all those years of questioning yourself, the two of you could have just been together? You felt some anger, but more than anger, you just felt sad. In a barely audible whisper, you said,

“Mirae, tell me everything.”

She looked up, clearly concerned, but she told you everything. About how he started liking you ten years ago, how he convinced himself he didn’t, how he took care of you that night when you were drunk, how he went back to search for you at the park. And with every word, your heart hurt a little more. You liked Minho. It wasn’t even a possibility that you would break up with him after gaining this information, but it really twisted a knife through your heart when you thought of all those years. You stood silently after Mirae was done, gathering your things to leave. She jumped up, worried.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I just really need a little time and space to wrap my head around this.”

“You okay?”

You turned and gave her a sad smile.

“Not exactly, but I’ll get there. I just need to think about this.”

 You got home, showered and napped. You needed time to rest and recover. It had been a very long day. You just wanted Minho to come home soon, so that you could cuddle with him and maybe have a tough conversation about everything you found out today. Oh shit. You’d also have to tell him about Yuna. And you didn’t want that. It did seem like he would be home late though.

Minho was in his studio, trying not to think too much about everything that happened when he heard a soft knock on the door. He opened it and nearly slammed it shut when he saw Yuna standing there. He would have too, if she hadn’t stuck her foot in there to prevent him from doing that.

“Can we talk Minho?”

“What do you want Yuna?”

“Yuna? Sweetheart, whatever happened to baby girl?”

He stared at her in disbelief. She walked past him and made herself comfortable on the couch.

“Minho, I need to apologise for everything that happened a few years ago. It was horrible. And if I could, I would turn back time to prevent that from happening.”

“Yeah, but you can’t, so what’s the point of all of this?”

“Minho, please. You’re the only man I’ve ever been happy with. And you know that we were happy together. Please. Let’s give this one last shot?”

Minho remained silent and Yuna took that as an invitation to move closer to him. She gently put         her hand on his thigh and starting tracing patterns.

“Minho, baby, please. I’m sorry.”

Minho’s mind was clouded. He was so mad that Jiyong hyung was so involved with his girlfriend. He was mad because of their history. He was mad because of his history. He was hurt by everything. At the back of his mind, a small voice told him that he knew that his chemistry with Yuna was unbelievable and he had never had better sex, but still. The thought of you, smiling as you hugged him after a long day couldn’t let him give in. He was tempted. So tempted to not stop Yuna’s hand that was trailing upwards but then he remembered the one time he saw you cry because of a movie. It was just a sad movie, but he had promised himself that he would never be the cause of those tears. He grabbed Yuna’s hand and turned to her to tell her to back off when he kissed him. He was too shocked to do anything about it, so she deepened it. The moment Minho realised what was going on, he pushed her off him.

“What the fuck Yuna?! I told you I have a girlfriend.”

She just looked away, not answering him.

“Get out. Get out of my studio right now and never come back.”

---

Minho got home a while later, exhausted, stressed, nervous, guilty and jealous. Not a great mix of emotions. His jealousy only amplified when he saw you working on a concept for Jiyong.   Not fucking Jiyong again. You were so deep in thought you didn’t hear him, so when he hugged you, you jumped.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s wrong Minho? Long day?”

Minho stared at you for a minute, hating how the only thing he could think of was the way Jiyong stood before you protectively. He didn’t reply, instead leaning in to pull you into a deep kiss, his hands travelling down your legs and wrapping them around his waist.

“Yes, it was. Will you help me forget about it?”  

“Okay.”

 Not long after that, you were lying face down on the bed, with tears streaming down your face as Minho’s fingers pumped into you. He was giving you your fifth orgasm. It was too much. Way too much. It has crossed from pleasure to just plain painful. Something was wrong with him that day. He was usually very responsive to your non-verbal cues. He seemed preoccupied and angry. You barely managed to croak out,

“Minho?”

The speed of his fingers increased.

“That’s master to you.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. You cried out.

“Minho, stop! Popcorn!”

It took a minute for it to register that you had just used your safe word with him. Once it did though, everything stopped. He immediately stopped, moving away from you. You fell to your side, tears still streaming down your face. You were shaking and you couldn’t keep your eyes open. It hurt so much.

“Oh fuck.”

He tried to wrap a blanket around you but you flinched at his touch. His face fell, but he moved away. God, it hurt so much that you flinched, but it was his fault. He should have checked in on you more. You slowly covered yourself with the blanket and waited till you stopped shivering.

“Y/N, I am so sorry. Fuck. I’m really sorry. I should have checked in on you more.”

You shook your head.

“It’s okay. You didn’t mean to. And it’s over now. We just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He was unsure when he leaned closer, moving some hair back from your face.

“I’m sorry.”

You just gave him a slight smile and held his hand.

“I accept your apology.”

“I’ll get you some hot chocolate?”

“Yes please.”

And Minho left for the kitchen. While your body still hurt and you were exhausted, you weren’t mad at him. You just wanted to know what was troubling him. You were snapped out of your thoughts when a notification popped up on your phone.

It was from Mirae.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I thought he was better than that. Remember, you can always just come and stay with me for a while.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. What was Mirae talking about? Who was she talking about? Did Jiyong do something? You opened your browser to try and figure things out when you realised your boyfriend’s name was trending. And your heart stopped when you saw why.

“BREAKING NEWS: WINNER’s MINO and Model Yuna dating!”    

---

[clairecrive]

“All the time in the world”- Bob Saginowski x reader

I’m honestly so happy with the response of the Bronson piece! I love you guys so much <3 so here’s a little Bob fluff that never hurts. Also, this is my first time writing him so if he sounds a little bit off that’s why. 

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​, @br0ck-eddie​, @of-love-and-of-the-sea​, @evelynshelby​, @deaflikehawkeye​, @shadow-of-wonder​, @fandom--0verdose​, @sopxhiea​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @fuseburner​ (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

You did it. You finally had sex with him. You had only been going out for a while, a couple of weeks, maybe a month. However, you had known Bob for way longer. You were a regular at his bar, either with your groups of friends or by yourself. That would be the case in which you had met Bob, well you actually had talked to him. When you were tipsy, you tended to marvel about the stupidest things out loud. Bob thought you were amusing and decided to humour you. That had led to a really long talk and long walk home since you were drunk and he refused to let you go home alone. Then one night when you were there on your own, he told you that his shift had ended early and asked if you wanted to grab a bite with him.

From that moment you began unofficially dating. You would see each other every other day and not only at the bar where he worked. Then after the third date, before you could climb off his pick up, he kissed you sealing the deal. Seems like you were dating then. 

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t like him. Well, of course you did, otherwise, you wouldn’t be dating him. However, your feelings were shifting from “like” to something more. And that bothered you to no end. You didn’t get attached to boys. Especially those who you had been seeing for less than a month. Nothing good ever comes from that. You were a pro at hiding your feelings. Been doing it for so long that you felt now unable to suppress these feelings any longer. 

That was going to be a problem.

 It was way too soon to feel like you did and even sooner to let him know. But you couldn’t go on this way anymore. Seemed like the sex only brought it up and made it impossible for you to ignore. You were laying down next to him, Bob had dozed off and your mind had gone wild. Suddenly, it was all becoming too much for you and you felt like you needed to leave. Without giving it a second thought, you began to pick up your clothes and got dressed quickly. 

When you were about to leave his room, something made you stop and look at him. Sprawled over the sheets half-naked, his face restful and peaceful, he looked so innocent. Bob had always been good to you and this was how you were going to repay him? By acting like one of those assholes in those rom coms that you hated? You couldn’t leave like this and you knew it. You owed him at least to tell him something. So, before leaving, you looked for a pen and a piece of paper and left him a note. 

“I need to sort myself out and think things through. Last night was amazing though. Don’t take this personally because you have done nothing wrong.”

Those were the words that met Bob when he opened his eyes. Waking up to an empty and cold bed wasn’t what he was expecting and your words left him even more dumbfounded. Despite what you said, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had done something wrong. Furrowing his eyebrows, he quickly went through your time spent together. He was totally clueless though because he genuinely thought that everything was going great between you. Apparently, he had been blind because they were not. He wondered if he needed to give you some space but thought against it. The only way to solve this was by talking things through. Even if it meant breaking up. So he got dressed quickly and headed over your house. After climbing the stairs of your patio, he was about to ring the bell when your voice met his ears. It came from the back of the house. Walking towards it, he stopped just before he came into view when he overheard something interesting.

“So you left him in bed, after your first time together, because you’re afraid?” Your friend's Nadia incredulous voice met his ears.

“I know, I know, I’m a terrible person.” You groaned but your voice came out muffled and peeking from his hideout, he saw that you hid it in your palms.

“I’m sorry but I don’t understand, what are you afraid of?”

“Haven’t you heard a word I said?” Now it was you who was incredulous. It seemed like you two had been talking for a while.

“I did but it’s all bullshit it you ask me.” Nadia sassed earning a glare from you.

“I can’t tell him how I feel Nadia, I’ll scare him away.” you sighed sounding defeated.

“Well, I think you’ve already accomplished that by running away after sex,” she pointed out and when she received your you’re not helping look, she continued, “you should talk to him y/n, really. It’ll solve everything.”

“I know, I know that communication is the key to every healthy relationship but I… I just can’t.” Shaking your head you let it hang from the backrest of the swing you were sitting on.

“Talking to him means that I need to explain why I left and that would lead to my feelings for him, which he can’t know about yet,” you continued sighing, eyes looking up to the sky.

“You had no problem talking about it with me,” Nadia pointed out scrolling her shoulders.

“Are you dumb? That’s different,” you retorted snapping your head in her direction, “if I tell him that I think I love him, he’ll run away!” exclaiming, your expression resembled one of those teachers after they had repeated the same thing for the hundredth time and their students still weren’t grasping it. “It’s been three weeks Nadia, it’s way too soon for the “L” word,” defeated your head went back on the backrest. “Besides, who’s to say that he’s even looking for a serious relationship? He’s really busy with work, he has a lot on his plate right now.” You didn’t believe that. Bob could hear it in your tone and so could Nadia. Both knew you very well.

“Bob doesn’t strike me as someone who’s seeking a one night stand or something temporary.” And in fact, he wasn't. Everyone who knew him was aware of that. It was as plain as day even for Nadia that didn’t know Bob that well.

“Maybe I should just put both of us out of our misery and break up with him,” was your totally unrelated consideration. 

“Are you out of your mind? God, what does your mind tell you? You’re in love with the guy and you want to break up with him?” Bob shook his head at your total illogical thought process while Nadia looked completely confused by you. She was having none of it, what the hell.

“This is not what I signed for when we started dating, Nadia. This got way too serious way too fast,” looking at her you defended yourself. “Look at me! I’m here worrying about a guy when I promised myself I never was going to again.”

“Bob’s not the problem here. For all we know, he could be in love with you too and be heartbroken that you run away-” Nadia wasn’t able to finish her sentence.

“Please,” you scoffed, “have you met me? Why would he love me? And stop saying that I’ve run away, I’ve left him a note,” huffing out annoyed at your friend, both of them knew that they were getting closer to the true motive of your actions.

“-what I think it’s the problem here is you and your inability to let yourself go and feel your emotions instead of repressing them,” now it was her time to interrupt you.

“I hate that you know me so well,” you whisper under your breath, “I just- I don’t want to put myself in that vulnerable position again where he can hurt me.” And here it is, thought Bob. This was the problem then.

“Everyone’s bound to get hurt once in a while y/n, that’s life. And you ought to live it to the fullest and not repress every feeling and avoid any deep connection. You’re missing out on a lot, plus, it’s not healthy,” Nadia observed with wisdom that Bob would have never associated with her. But she had a point.

“If you think that it’s too soon to confess your feelings for him then don’t. Show him instead,” she added when you didn’t say anything.

“I’ve been doing that for the past week. Smothering him with kisses and affection, romantic dinners and shit that I’ve always despised in movies. I went over his bar often and stuff. He probably thinks I’m clingy now and he’s fed up with me,” you confessed listing with the help of your fingers.

“Sounds to me you just stopped being distant and started being a loving girlfriend,” Nadia commented with a patronizing smile. “Oh, and he probably already knows too. He’s very attentive and he knows you so…” Scrolling her shoulders she stated what she thought was pretty obvious while she observed your face scrunch up in desperation.

“It’s only been three weeks goddammit, why am I feeling this way?”

“Time is relative y/n. Stop worrying about it too much. Couples have married after two weeks of dating.” Nadia pointed out thinking to help her case but she got the opposite reaction from you.

“That’s madness,” you spat with wide eyes. 

The two girls continued talking but Bob had heard enough. As Nadia said, he had noticed the change in behavior and despite what you thought, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. But he had also been wondering what had caused it. Now he knew. Deciding to pick up Nadia’s advice, he turned around and headed back home. He knew how to solve this. He was just going to show you.

At home, Bob prepared a nice dinner. Nothing too complicated but he knew you liked it. He wasn’t good with words and apparently neither were you when it came to your feelings. So he needed to find another way. And he thought that paying attention to the details in a way that showed how much he cared, was the right one.

Show, don’t tell.

That was what he was going to do. Since the very first time you two had eaten together, you had always been very passionate about food. Bob was a much better bartender than he was a cook, hence his occupation, but he tried anyway to deliver a delicious meal. Your favourite nonetheless. From what he’d gathered, it was best for him to take matters into his own hands. Otherwise, if he had to wait for you, he’d probably wait a long time. So he sent you a text, mentioning the homemade diner he asked if you would join him. As he predicted, you’d said yes. You’d never turn down an invitation where food was involved. That alone showed how much Bod knew you. Surely, he wouldn’t pay so much attention to someone he didn’t care about, right? He thought your reservations were fair. He understood where you were coming from. On the other hand, he thought it was very clear his stand on relationships, yours in particular. Apparently not. He was to rectify that soon though.

When dinner time came around, you parked in front of Bob’s house right on time. He had probably heard you pull up because when you walked to his door you saw that it was open and Rocco was waiting for you on the threshold.

“Hello, you handsome boy,” you cooed at his cute little face giving him some well-deserved belly rubs until you noticed that he was holding something in his mouth. Gently pulling it out of his mouth, you saw that it was a folded piece of paper. 

It said:

“Please don’t run away like that again. If you don’t talk to me then how is this going to work?”

As you let the words sink in, your eyes flickered to Rocco who was now looking at you with his head tilted to the side. The pang of guilt was impossible to avoid and you knew that this dinner wasn’t going to be like any other. 

Closing the door behind you, you made your way through the hallway that leads to the kitchen expecting to find Bob dealing with your food. And there he was.

The table was already set, two sweet-scented candles were lit and he had just set your plates down when you walked into the room. You lingered near the door for a bit, not knowing what mood he was going to be in. You had left after having sex with him after all.  Still drying his hands with a cloth, he turned to where you were standing and as if he felt your insecurity, Bob gave you a small smile. 

Feeling a little more confident in yourself you crossed the room to meet him before you’d sit down at the table. 

“Hi,” you started shyly.

“Hi, babe,” two words and he managed to make you swoon. Oh, how you loved this man.

“I’m so so sorry for this morning, I-” he didn’t let you continue and you were secretly grateful for it ‘cause you would have probably made a mess.

“I know,” he reassured you holding you gently by the waist.

“You know?” How could he possibly know?

“I get that you have reservations when it comes to relationships, I do too,” he shared putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You do?” If you weren’t so damn confused by what was going on, you were sure you’d have punched yourself for being so stupid.

“Of course. I have been alone for a long time. Being in a relationship after a while can be difficult.” Gently cradling your face in his hands, he added, “But I want you to know that you can always talk to me.”

“I’m scared that what I’m going to say to you will make you run away from me. And I kinda like you so I don’t want that to happen,” you confessed quietly. He was so close to you now that you could whisper and he would hear. Somehow it made it easier to talk.

“I won’t,” he promised and you believed him. Why? Good question, it’s just one of those things that you just know. 

“I just-,” how were you going to tell him? “my feelings for you scare me,” by just saying it, you figured.

“You don’t have to tell me anything right now. Just know that we can turn that fear into assurance. I and Rocco are always up for some cuddles, aren’t we buddy?” And as if on cue, Rocco barked agreeing with his favourite human. You couldn’t help but giggle in happiness, you were really a lucky gal.

“Now let’s go eat. The food is getting cold.” And with that both your minds were at ease, ready to enjoy the night together. Yes, there were some things that needed to be discussed still but you had all the time in the world for that. It seemed that neither you not Bob had any intention to leave.

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 10/14

Well, here it is everyone! One of the chapters I have been really looking forward to! There’s no kissing, but I give you platonic bed sharing plus emotional hurt/comfort with a side of jealousy. Enjoy!

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it could also mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​​ .

Rating: M

Words: about 5k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging:@snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @kmomof4​​ @let-it-raines​ @teamhook​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @tiganasummertree​ @shireness-says​​ @stahlop​​ @scientificapricot​​ @welllpthisishappening​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @kday426​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @nikkiemms​ @distant-rose @optomisticgirl​​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @carpedzem​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @branlovestowrite​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​​ @vvbooklady1256​ @hollyethecurious​​ @winterbaby89​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @jennjenn615​ @snidgetsafan​

Emma sighed as she polished off another piece of toast. She brushed the crumbs from her lap and relaxed into the comfortable chair on the back porch. She enjoyed the view of the ocean and the soothing sound of surf. It felt wonderful to be out in the fresh air after days cooped up inside sick. She contemplated going back to the kitchen for something more substantial, but she had given Killian her word. Besides, she’d already pushed her luck by spreading an extremely thin layer of butter on her toast.

Her cell phone started ringing on the patio table, and she jumped as if Killian had some sort of sixth sense about the butter. It was Ruby calling, however, not Killian.

“Hey, Rubes.”

“Hey, Ems,” Ruby’s simple reply was laced with meaning, “sooo, how’s it going being married to Mr. Hottie? Please tell me he leaves crumbs in the bed or smells really bad when he first wakes up in the morning. Otherwise I’ll be depressed over the state of my love life.”

Emma laughed as she flicked a few more errant crumbs off her pajama pants. “Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s annoyingly neat. As for what he smells like when he wakes up, I wouldn’t know.”

There was a fumbling sound on the other end and a muttered curse from Ruby. “I’m sorry, I almost dropped my phone. How the hell do you not know? Please tell me you’re not -”

“Making him sleep on the couch? Well, yes. This isn’t the fifteenth century where I sold my body for a goat or something.”

“So the poor man has to sleep on the couch indefinitely?”

“Well, technically, I’ve slept on the couch the past couple of days. I had some sort of stomach bug.”

“That sucks, Ems, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Killian took good care of me.

“Did he?” Once again, Ruby’s voice was laced with unspoken meaning.

“Don’t start, Ruby, he was just being nice.”

“If he took care of you when you were sick, I personally think you should let him back in the bed.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I can’t let him back in bed if he was never in it to begin with.”

“Girl, I would change that arrangement ASAP.”

Emma just laughed and shook her head. “Ruby -”

“Emma,” her friend countered, “if you’re going to be married to that for a year, you might as well enjoy it.”

“And the purpose of this call is exactly . . . “

“Fine, fine,” Ruby muttered, “straight to business, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Okay, well Regina asked me to call and go over your itinerary for the book promotion.”

Emma rose from her chair to go back inside and find her laptop so she could pull up her calendar. “That’s good. I feel so out of the loop. I mean, I’m back to normal at my practice, but the new book has honestly been the last thing on my mind.”

“I don’t blame you with that fine piece of -”

“Ruby,” Emma cut her off, “focus.”

“Right, right, okay . . . so, we’ve got that interview set up on The Tiana Show. And Regina did tell you that will also have a Q&A segment with the audience, right?”

“Mhm,” Emma said as she scrolled through her calendar, “yeah, I made a note of that.”

“They also requested that Killian be there, and Regina okayed it.”

“Wait - what?”

Ruby’s voice was reassuring. “They just want him in the audience. You know, so they can pan to his reactions and stuff.”

Emma slouched back on the couch and wearily rubbed her forehead. “Ruby, how could the two of you not check with me first? Killian has a business to run. He might not be able to take off to New York in the middle of the week.”

“I don’t know, the man seems pretty willing to come running when you call.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, never mind,” Ruby said hurriedly. She changed the subject to the next item on Emma’s itinerary, and Emma didn’t press it. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what her friend meant by the comment.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Killian came home from work, he had a huge pot of chicken noodle soup that Elsa had made. It made Emma wonder if the woman cooked anything but soup. She was also grateful for something to eat that wasn’t toast. Personally, she could go for a cheeseburger, but she doubted Killian would agree.

He did, however, agree to eating outside on the back porch. He also said nothing when Emma slathered a hunk of French bread with butter. The bit she had at lunch hadn’t bothered her stomach, not that she would tell Killian that.

“Why do you look so nervous?” Killian asked her after blowing on a spoonful of soup.

Emma jabbed at a chunk of chicken with her spoon rather than looking at him. “I just have to ask you something, and I’m a little nervous you’ll be pissed.”

His forehead creased. “Why would I be? Emma, seriously, you can ask me anything.”

Emma gave him a tentative smile. “That’s sweet, but it’s just . . . well, my agent kind of agreed to something for you.”

Killian rested his elbows on the table. “Okay, I guess that was inconsiderate of her, but I’m not going to blow up about it or anything. Especially not at you.”

Emma let out a breath of air. “Good, and I told Ruby that they need to ask first from here on out.”

Killian tore a piece of bread from the loaf and dipped it into his soup. “So, what is it? I may have to tell them no, depending on what it is, but . . . “

He trailed off and shrugged as if to say he would have an open mind about it.

“They want you to go with me to do a talk show in New York City in a couple of weeks. Not to be interviewed or anything,” Emma rushed to add, “just to be in the audience. The show wants you there for like, reactions or whatever while they’re interviewing me.”

Killian nodded, completely calm, and it honestly threw her more than if he’d gotten pissed. “That’s fine with me. When is it?”

“A week from this coming Wednesday?”

He shook his head at her as a smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have to phrase it as a question. I don’t bite, love. Unless you ask me to, that is.”

He punctuated the innuendo with a wink, and she rolled her eyes as she laughed. “You think you’re cute, don’t you?”

“I try.”

“So can you do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I don’t have any plans.”

“But isn’t this your busy time of year? I mean, with all the tourists around.”

He reached out and took her hand. “Not so much that I can’t take one day to support your career.”

Emma felt her jaw drop slightly, and her gaze flicked to where his thumb was caressing her knuckles. When he saw her expression, he quickly pulled his hand away and cleared his throat.

“I mean, that’s the whole reason for this arrangement, aye?”

“Right,” Emma said with a nod, “to save my career.”

Silence fell between them as they continued eating their soup. Emma drained her bowl with a sigh, almost embarrassed at how ravenously she had eaten.

“Did that hit the spot?”

“Definitely,” she replied, patting her stomach, “I just hope I don’t regret it later.”

“I’m sure if your appetite has returned that you’ll be fine. Besides, it was soup.”

She nodded, regarding him thoughtfully as he continued to leisurely eat his own dinner. “So,” she finally worked up the courage to ask, leaning her elbows on the table, “your half of the bargain was that I would casually help your brother out with his marriage. But from what I see, they’re fine.”

Now it was Killian’s jaw dropping as he paused his eating, spoon held in midair. Emma arched one brow at him.

“Well,” he finally said, resting his spoon on the table, “they do love each other tremendously, and Elsa’s good for Liam -”

“But?”

“But, there’s been some tension lately.”

Emma searched his face intently as she rested her chin on her clasped hands. She didn’t know why in the world he would lie about his brother needing her help, but it felt like he was grasping for words. “Tension?”

“Aye, tension. Elsa’s ready to start a family, you see, and Liam -”

“Doesn’t want kids?”

“No, no, it’s not that. He does. It’s just . . . he wants to be sure they’re ready. Financially speaking.”

“That’s wise. Having children isn’t something you do lightly.”

“And Elsa understands that, but she -”

Emma lifted a hand. “If you say anything about her biological clock, I might dump the rest of that soup over your head.”

His eyes widened at that. “Okay, I sense a touchiness -”

She gave him a withering glare. “I just don’t like women being treated like they have a shelf life, that’s all.”

Killian leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed, his brow furrowed. Uh-oh. “So you’re going to deny basic biology?”

“What basic biology?”

“That there are a certain number of years -”

“Choose your words very carefully, buddy.”

His hands dropped to the table, and she noticed that his hands were now clenched in fists. “All I’m saying is that Elsa’s waited the first five years of their marriage for something she wants deeply, and my brother is being way too practical. As usual.”

“You have to be practical - it’s a lifetime commitment!”

“But no one can ever be one hundred percent prepared!”

This had quickly gotten out of hand, both their voices rising slightly, and Emma wasn’t even sure where the conversation had gone off the rails. She took a deep breath and when she spoke again, she used her professional therapist voice.

“It’s a big decision that you shouldn’t rush into.”

Killian leaned across the table, his eyes flashing. “Or it’s something that scares you to death, scares the hell out of you actually because you never had a good example of what a father should be. So even though you want it more than you ever wanted anything, that fear holds you back. So you wait, then wait some more, until one day you’ve waited too long!”

He rose from the table then, so forcefully that the chair behind him flew backwards and wobbled, almost toppling over. Then Killian turned and left, the screen porch door slamming behind him as he headed down the beach.

Emma just sat there for a moment, processing what the hell just happened, and suddenly understanding dawned. She didn’t have a phD in psychology for nothing.

This had nothing at all to do with Elsa and Liam.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian came to a dead stop halfway down the beach when he realized what he was doing. He leaned over his knees, taking big gulps of air. It wasn’t from the exertion of his run - he was in better shape than that - it was the sudden fear washing over him. How could he be this stupid twice? And Emma was just getting over being sick. What if she tried to follow him, got dizzy, and . . . and . . .

He couldn’t finish the thought. Instead, after one more deep breath, he raced back the way he had come. The fear was even worse when he saw how far he’d run. The house seemed so far away . . .

Finally, he slowed down right at the back of the house. In the distance, he saw Emma by the fire pit talking to Anna. Relief flooded through him, and he suddenly felt like he’d run a 10k in less than a minute. Once again, he was leaning over, bracing his hands on his knees. Emma turned towards him, but he couldn’t tell from here if she was angry or not. Then she turned back to Anna, gesturing in his direction. Anna nodded, then turned around and went back into the house.

Killian straightened as Emma drew closer. Her arms were crossed, holding a sweater around her frame, and the ocean breeze tugged at her hair. Even when she got close, her expression was unreadable.

“I’m sorry.”

Seemed as good a place as any to start.

She tilted her head at him. “I’m sorry too. I didn’t know.”

Killian blinked, then looked back over Emma’s shoulder at his brother’s house. He sighed, “Anna told you?”

Emma nodded, then her expression changed, and her eyes widened. “Wait - did you race back here because you were worried about me?”

Killian ran a hand wearily over his face. “It was just so eerily the same. A fight, me running off -”

Emma stopped his words with a gentle hand to his arm. “Her death wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just a senseless accident.”

“You don’t understand, Emma. We fought about . . . “ he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “We were renovating our house, on the other side of Storybrooke. We added on a new master suite, giving us three bedrooms instead of two, and then Milah suddenly starts referring to one of them as a nursery.” He turned to look out at the water, his hand raking through his hair. Emma said nothing.

“I always brushed her off with a joke or something. Finally, we talked about it, and I told her I wasn’t sure we were in a good place financially. The truth was, I was scared.”

“Of what?”

He turned to look into her green eyes. “Of failing. As a father. My dad left us when we were kids, you see, and . . . well, how was I supposed to know what a good father looked like?”

Emma just nodded. “I understand that fear.” She settled down in the sand and motioned for him to join her. He did, knowing she might still be weak from being sick.

Killian shook his head and sighed before continuing. “But it meant so much to her. Her first husband never wanted kids either, was really volatile about the issue, and it got to be a touchy subject between us.”

Emma said nothing, just looked at him with an expression that made him feel it was safe to go on. No wonder she was so good at her job.

“One day, we were in the middle of working on the house, and she confronted me about it, wouldn’t let me deflect. We ended up getting into a huge fight, and I took off in anger. Just like I did tonight.” He struggled to go on, lowering his head so she couldn’t see the tears starting to form.

“You don’t need to explain the rest if you don’t want to. Anna told me.”

“If I had been there, she might not have fallen off that ladder.”

“You don’t know that.”

“She might have lived.”

“Killian,” she said in a soft voice, “Anna told me what the coroner said. She broke her neck. Even if you had been there, you wouldn’t have been able to save her.”

He shook his head, clenching his jaw. “But she might not even have been on that ladder if I hadn’t taken off. She might have been more careful. She was probably so distracted . . . “

“Killian look at me,” Emma knelt down in front of him in the sand and took his face in her hands. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was only gone for ten minutes. No one expects their life to change that much in ten minutes.”

Emma gave him an encouraging smile. She had also started to stroke his face, and he wondered if she even realized she was doing it.

“Exactly. Ten minutes. How could you have possibly known what would happen? You left for a few minutes to calm down. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I . . . I didn’t . . . it wasn’t my fault.”

Emma nodded. Liam had told him the same thing a thousand times. So had Elsa. And David. Yet for some reason, here on the beach with Emma’s soothing voice and gentle hands, the truth of it finally washed over him like the waves crashing against the shore. Something broke inside of him, and his head fell forward onto Emma’s shoulder. She wrapped one arm around him while she stroked his hair with her other hand. He waited for tears to come, for sobs to shake his body, but instead he felt lighter somehow. He supposed he’d shed an ocean of tears for Milah over the years, and nothing but a shaky sigh was left.

“She wouldn’t want you to blame yourself,” Emma told him.

He pulled back and took Emma’s hands in his. “You’re right. She wouldn’t.” He stared down at Emma’s hands for a minute, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles. The sound of the ocean surrounded them, and he slowly breathed in the salty smell of it, then exhaled.

“Better?” Emma asked.

He nodded, feeling slightly sheepish all of a sudden. He rose to his feet and offered Emma a hand, which she took. Once she was up, he turned towards the house, but she didn’t relinquish his hand.

“You know,” he told her, “I never scheduled a session.”

She laughed. “Lucky for you I had an opening.”

“How much do I owe you?” he teased, bumping her hip.

“This one’s on the house, Jones.”

Despite their fight and the intense conversation on the beach, they spent the rest of the evening the way they normally did - on the couch with Netflix. Around eleven, Emma stretched and yawned.

“You’ve got me falling into the sleeping habits of an old man,” she told him, poking his leg with her toe.

“Hey, I may have a few years on you, but I’ve retained my youthful glow.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes as she rose from the couch, wrapping an afghan around her. “What about you?”

A yawn cracked his own jaw as he rubbed at his tired eyes. “I think I’m ready to turn this couch into my bed for the night.”

Emma chewed on her lower lip as she regarded him carefully. “Why don’t we just share the bed?”

He arched a brow at her. “Seriously?”

She shrugged. “Yeah, why not? I mean, we’re both adults.”

Killian rubbed at his jaw as he thought it over. He wouldn’t lie, he was sick of the couch. And as long she was comfortable with it . . .

“Come on,” Emma said, giving him a playful kick, “don’t make a big deal out of it. You know you miss sleeping in a real bed.”

“Well, if you’re sure -”

“One hundred percent.”

“Okay then.” He tossed aside the remote, got up, and followed Emma down the hall. She had already changed into her pajamas, so she brushed her teeth while Killian changed in the bedroom. He went ahead and slipped under the sheets and flipped off the light before Emma came in. Why was his heart pounding like a fifteen year old?

He heard Emma shut off the faucet and flip off the bathroom light. “Whoah, it’s dark!” Emma cried as she stepped into the room. “Why are you hiding? Do you sleep in the nude?”

“No,” Killian protested, “well, not totally. I mean, I’m wearing boxers.” Shut up, he reprimanded himself, you sound like a nervous idiot.

Emma swore under her breath as she tripped over something on her way to the bed. Knowing her, it was a pair of shoes. He felt the bed dip as she got in and wrapped herself up in the covers. He tried to make her out in the dark, but all he could see was her hair.

“Good night,” Emma whispered.

“Good night,” he whispered back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Killian was awakened the next morning because something was tickling his nose. It was Emma’s hair - spread all over her pillow and his. He brushed it out of his face as he rolled over. Emma was curled up on her side, her back to him. He took the opportunity to admire her creamy shoulders on display. One strap of her tank top had slipped, and the sight had him getting hard. He was just about to slip out of bed before she noticed how - er - excited he was to see her, when she suddenly rolled over to face him.

“Hey,” she said groggily.

“Hey,” he answered, his voice strained. He tried to inch farther away from her without making it obvious.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

He blinked. “Uh, why would I be embarrassed? Like you said last night, we’re adults.”

“Exactly,” Emma replied through a yawn. She arched her back and stretched both arms over her head, which definitely didn’t help his erection. “And I’m also an adult who counsels couples and has extensive knowledge of sexual physiology and psychology.”

“Are you bragging, Swan?”

“No. I’m just trying to explain why I understand your situation. After all, it’s extremely normal for a healthy man to wake up with an erection.”

She smirked at him as he coughed. He wished he had control over the red creeping up his cheeks. He quickly recovered, however, and winked at her.

“That confident that I’m happy to see you?”

She shrugged, that damn strap still teasing him. “Guess it’s good I’m not a cuddler, or there would be no doubt.”

“Oh trust me, love,” he told her, dropping his voice an octave, “when I jab you with my sword, you’ll feel it.”

Now she was the one blinking rapidly as a blush stained her cheeks. He laughed as he flung the sheets aside.

“Now look away, darling, unless you want an eyeful. My boxers have never been able to contain my prodigious manhood.”

She didn’t respond at first, and he chuckled again. But when he reached the door of the bathroom, his pillow hit him in the back of the head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sharing a bed was changing Emma’s sleeping habits. She was getting up earlier for two reasons: one, she had lied to Killian. She apparently was a cuddler. Every morning her eyes flew open before the sun was up when her body sensed something warm, solid, and hairy beneath her cheek. She always extricated herself from his embrace before he woke up. Second, Killian had convinced her to ditch her treadmill and join him on his jogs. She had to admit, she looked forward to her morning workout more with the combination of the gorgeous setting, Smee’s encouragement, and Killian’s company.

He wasn’t chatty on the morning runs, for which she was grateful. She preferred getting in the zone when she exercised. However, they were talking over breakfast and coffee each day. Now that she was up earlier, she had time for more than a bagel as she dashed out the door. She could honestly say that they were friends now, and she enjoyed his company. She had hopes that things wouldn’t be weird after all this was over, and they could still hang out. Especially since they worked in the same building.

Emma was far more aware of the sounds coming from below her than she used to be (heavy metal music aside). She now knew the difference between the sound of the table saw versus the sander, for example, though both were faint by the time they reached her ears. Her clients probably didn’t even notice.

She also knew when he was meeting with a client. The sounds in his workshop ceased and the pleasant timbre of his voice drifted up through the vents. Not enough for her to eavesdrop, but enough to bring a smile to her face. He was talented at what he did, and she wanted him to succeed.

Right now, she could hear the buzz of his table saw as she listened to her current client talk about finally setting boundaries without apologies with the man she had just started dating. Emma was encouraged by her progress, and honestly proud of the young woman. When she first started seeing Emma, she was broken and filled with social anxiety after going through a very public breakup. It had taken a year for the woman to even accept a date from a man who had already proven himself as a good friend. Now, here she was speaking up for herself without apology.

“You know, Jasmine,” Emma told her, “I think you are at a very healthy place. How about we try meeting every six weeks instead of monthly?”

“Really?” the woman asked, beaming. “I think that would work. Does that mean I don’t need the citalopram anymore?”

“No, I think you should still take it. Talk it over with your doctor, but it’s a really safe medication, and ten milligrams a day is a very small dose. Besides, remember what I always say?”

“Medication is just another of my tools to help me cope and nothing to be ashamed of.”

Emma grinned. “Exactly.”

They both rose, and Emma showed Jasmine to the door at the top of the stairs. Over the brunette's shoulder, she saw Killian welcome in a smiling redhead. The woman flipped her hair over one shoulder as she laughed, then she laid a hand on Killian’s bicep. Killian smiled back, then - Emma’s breath caught - he reached up and scratched behind his ear! Emma’s lips pressed together in a thin line. That was his tell when he was nervous - usually sexually nervous. Emma barely heard Jasmine’s goodbye as her head spun. She leaned over to try and see the pair, but Killian led the redhead further into his shop and out of sight.

Emma went back into her office and started pacing in the small waiting area. Ariel! That was the woman’s name. Killian had made an arbor for her wedding to Eric, similar to the one he had made for her. Well, this Eric might want to know that his wife was flirting with other people’s husbands.

As soon as the thought entered her brain, Emma tried to put on her therapist hat and remind her subconscious that the woman’s red hair had triggered memories of Walsh’s infidelity with Zelena.

Her subconscious was hearing none of it.

Emma stilled her movements and cocked her head as she tried to make out the low voices from the first floor. Were they laughing again? The woman sure was smiling a hell of a lot.

Maybe she always smiles a lot. Therapist Emma tried to say.

Her subconscious ignored Therapist Emma.

Emma marched over to the floor vent near the door so she could hear better. All she could make out was Killian’s accent and Ariel’s more bubbly voice, but not what they were saying. She rolled her eyes and let out a huff of breath before getting down on her hands and knees. Wait, was that more laughter? She leaned closer, turning her ear to the vent and concentrating. She thought she heard Ariel say Killian’s name. In her mind’s eye, she saw her smiling brightly at him, flicking that unfairly beautiful shade of red hair over one shoulder, and gushing, “Oh Killian, you are just so funny.”

Emma snapped back to reality and realized that it had gone quiet. Why were they quiet all of a sudden? What were they doing? Emma’s ear was practically pressed to the vent at this point, and -

“What the bloody hell are you doing?”

Emma let out a strangled yelp as she jumped up from the floor. Killian was standing there in her doorway, looking at her with confusion etched on his brow and barely contained humor teasing the corners of his lips. She blinked and suddenly wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. She had been acting like a complete fool!

“Umm . . . I was . . . looking for something. What are you doing up here?”

He arched a brow at her and struggled to keep a smile at bay. “It’s lunch time. We were going to go over to Granny’s - remember? What did you lose?”

“Lose?”

“You said you lost something,” he said, gesturing to where she’d been on all fours like a dog.

“My earring,” she lied quickly, “I thought maybe it rolled into the vent.”

“Oh,” he said, “well let me help you -”

“No that’s okay!” she told him hurriedly. “I found it, see?” She held up an empty hand with the fingertips pinched together as if she were holding something, then she pretended to fiddle with her earring. Thank God she wore studs!

Killian arched a brow at her, then sauntered close. So close, his chest almost brushed hers. She had to tilt her head to look up at him. He leaned down, his lips almost brushing her ear.

“You mean this earring, love?” he purred. He reached up and caressed the ruby stud with his calloused fingers. “The one you were already wearing when you first stood up?”

He pulled back just enough so he could look her in the eye, and the sinful smile upon his face should have made her furious.

But it didn’t. Damn him, it almost made her melt into a puddle of goo on the floor.

HIs eyes scanned her face, and for one thrilling moment she thought he would kiss her. Kiss her with absolutely no one watching. But then he pulled back and walked backwards towards the door.

“You coming, love? Grilled cheese at Granny’s?”

“Uh . . . yeah,” she muttered.

Emma wanted a way to wipe that shit eating grin off his face, but she couldn’t figure out how to do it.

“Oh and Emma,” Killian said before she could head down the stairs, “Ariel was smiling and laughing because she and Eric need me to make them a cradle. For their new baby.”

His satisfied smile as he sauntered past her down the stairs made her want to kick him in the ass as hard as she could. Mostly. But another part of her was too busy being relieved about Ariel’s order.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter One

A/N: If you have notifs on this blog, you might want to turn them off for the day, heh. I'm gonna be posting 99 chapters of this bad boy today, so there's gonna be a flood of notifs in your inbox, and I apologize for that in advance. This story has been two years in the making, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as the AO3 crowd did!

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

July 3rd, 1985

Remy sat in his closet, hands pressed against his ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Tears streamed down his face as he could hear his parents’ continued argument. His mother was acting out again, because of course she was, and his dad was trying to deescalate the situation, which only ever wound up Mom more. The screaming started up, and Remy flinched, desperate for the continued argument to stop, just for a second, just so that he could feel safe enough leaving his closet to go to the bathroom.

He knew, though, that he was going to have to wait for a while to get anything he wanted, let alone that.

September 8th, 2000

Remy looked around the campus he was on with a sigh. He really didn’t know why he was doing this. College just seemed like one of those things you did just because; it wasn’t like he was going to get a job just because he had a degree. But here he was, at his parents’ insistence.

He was sipping his coffee on a park bench, watching the leaves on the trees. He had some time before his next class, and it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. “Pretty, isn’t it?” a man asked from behind him.

Turning, Remy found a man with a curly mop of red hair and bright green eyes. “Yeah, I suppose,” he said, looking back at the leaves.

The man sat down next to him with a smile. “My name’s Emile,” he said.

Remy offered his hand. “Remy.”

“Nice to meet you, Remy,” Emile said. “Mind me asking why you look so down in the dumps?”

Remy shook his head at Emile and said, “It’s nothing important.”

“It’s affecting you, so obviously it has to be important,” Emile said with a frown. “Everyone’s feelings are important, no matter what they are.”

Remy inwardly sighed and outwardly bristled. This guy was clearly intent on making friends, something that Remy didn’t want, or need. “Please. That’s the sort of thing only overly-sensitive people think. Normal people don’t need to talk out their feelings every second of the day.”

Emile blinked. “I was just trying to strike up a conversation,” he said, and his eyes looked hurt.

“Have you considered that not everyone here wants to be your friend?” Remy asked, sipping his coffee.

“Well, not everyone has to be my friend, but you’ve hung on the outskirts everywhere I’ve seen you during orientation,” Emile said. “I figured you might want to know one or two people here, just to have a familiar face around campus.”

“Touching, but I’ll be fine,” Remy grumbled. “I don’t need any friends.”

“I don’t believe you,” Emile said simply.

Remy jumped like he may has well have been stabbed. He snarled at Emile. “You don’t know anything about me! Why would you even suggest that you know my social habits better than I do?!”

Emile had his hands held up in surrender, his eyes wide. Remy sighed. This kid clearly had lived a very sheltered life. Someone had to toughen him up so he didn’t break the hard way the second someone pushed back against him. And Remy didn’t know anyone else on this campus who might be able to teach the kid anything about life, so it looked like if he wanted Emile to not get destroyed on campus, he would have to be the one to toughen him up, bit by bit. “I’m sorry,” Remy said. “I don’t...have good experiences with people trying to be my friends in the past. No one stuck around longer than it took for them to get blackmail material on me.”

“That’s terrible,” Emile gasped.

“That’s life,” Remy said, voice dull and hollow. “If you want to be my friend, I guess you can try. Just don’t be surprised if I don’t follow you when you jump off a bridge.”

Emile sat there in stunned silence for a second, before he whimpered out, “You never did answer my question.”

Remy ran a hand through his hair and took another sip of his coffee. “Why I’m upset? I don’t want to be here. College is just...extra school that you go in debt for. I don’t know what I want to do with my life; I’m taking business classes because I had a knack for math in high school, but so far the textbooks I’ve read haven’t taught me anything. I don’t have anyone on this campus that I know, and you’re the only person who’s even bothered to stick around me for longer than twenty seconds. No friends, no learning, and thousands of dollars of debt. That’s why I’m upset.”

Emile shrugged. “Well, why are you upset about having no friends if you don’t want any friends?”

“What?” Remy asked, glancing over.

“Why are you upset about having no friends if you don’t want any friends?” Emile repeated. “That would seem like a blessing, wouldn’t it? Not having to deal with people faking being your friends after high school?”

Remy shrugged. “I appreciate company. Not friendships, but I don’t like being stuck with my thoughts all the time.”

“Well, there are a couple people who I know who are throwing parties later, if you ever want to...you know...party? Have something to do outside study and not make friends?” Emile offered.

Remy glared at Emile. “And now you’re mocking me?”

“What? No!” Emile said. “You said you didn’t want to make friends? So I just...aw, shoot, it wasn’t supposed to come out that way!”

Remy scoffed. “Emile, you clearly don’t have the right social skills to be compatible friends with me. I suggest finding someone else to hang around with, because I’m certainly not your ‘pal.’”

“Actually, provided you don’t mind, I’d like to stay right here, talking to you, thanks,” Emile said, pulling out a book from his backpack and settling into the bench with a sigh. “We don’t have to be friends, but I’d still like to be a familiar face to you.”

Remy blinked. This kid...wasn’t backing down? Remy assumed he’d scurry away and regroup and Remy would have some time to figure out how to toughen Emile up, provided he came back. But he was...staying? Even after Remy had snarled at him? “Why?” Remy asked, before he could stop himself.

Emile looked up from his book, briefly shocked, before he smiled. It was soft, and kind, and nothing like Remy had ever seen directed at him before. “Because everyone deserves to be comfortable, and familiar faces tend to make people relax a little more.”

Remy frowned. “I don’t...I don’t understand you.”

“That’s okay,” Emile said, turning back to his book. “Learning to understand other people is half the fun of making friends.”

“But...I don’t want to make friends,” Remy said.

“Okay,” Emile said. “But would you want to make a friend?”

Remy scoffed. “Changing the noun in question from plural to singular does not change my sentiment.”

“It was worth a shot,” Emile said, smiling into his book. “I figured I may as well try. And it didn’t work, but now I know where you stand.”

Remy shook his head. “An optimist,” he muttered. “Of course you’re an optimist.”

“Why would that be a bad thing?” Emile asked.

“Because there’s not a silver lining to any and every situation,” Remy said, wrinkling his nose. “And I fear for the sanity of anyone who believes otherwise, because clearly, their head must not be on straight.”

“What situations aren’t there silver linings in?” Emile asked. “Every time something bad happens, it leads to something else in someone’s life, and sooner or later that ‘something else’ is something good. Something that you wouldn’t have gotten without the bad.”

“You don’t know that for a fact,” Remy warned. “You could have even gotten to the good thing faster without the bad.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Emile said. “After all, you might never have met me or anyone else on this campus if you didn’t come to college.”

Remy barked a laugh. “That full of yourself, are you?” he asked Emile.

“Well, I’m not saying I’m the epitome of good things, but a friend is always a good thing in my book. Or even just a familiar face. I’ll be around, you know. And I’m always up to help if you need a hand,” Emile offered.

This kid was sickeningly sweet, and Remy didn’t know how he had tolerated that attitude for this long. “Whatever,” Remy brushed off. “I’m fine on my own. Be a familiar face if you must, but we are not friends.”

“If you say so, Remy,” Emile said.

“I do say so, Emile,” Remy said, voice dripping venom on Emile’s name. “I need to head to my next class soon.”

“If you have a phone, we can exchange numbers?” Emile asked hopefully.

Remy arched an eyebrow. “That desperate to pester me, huh?” he asked with a sigh. “Yeah, I have a phone. Don’t really feel inclined to give you the number, though.”

“Oh,” Emile deflated, and Remy didn’t expect to feel bad for making a jab at the kid, but he did.

He groaned. “You’re making this hard,” he griped.

“What, being alone?” Emile asked.

“Not caring about anything here,” Remy grumbled. “Granted, the caring is in the sense that I hate this place and most if not all the people in it, but I was hoping I could just...apathetically make my way into getting a degree and moving on from this hovel.”

“You worry me,” Emile said.

“Do I?” Remy asked. “How so?”

“Well, I know we’ve only known each other for like, ten minutes, but I’m studying psychology so that I can become a therapist and—”

“Hold up, hold up, hold up,” Remy said. “Hold. Up. You’re studying to become a shrink?”

“Uh. Yes?” Emile said, tilting his head to the side. “Is that a problem?”

“It means we definitely can’t be friends. I don’t need you shrinking my head every chance you get to try and get me to reveal my ‘troubled past’ or find out that I’m secretly in love with my mother, or whatever. No, thank you. I hate shrinks and I loathe therapists.” Remy took another sip of his coffee, but it tasted bitter on his tongue.

“Why?” Emile asked. “They’re incredibly helpful.”

“I don’t need ‘em,” Remy scoffed. “Everyone I’ve ever met who’s talked to me for a while is like, ‘Oh, you should go see a therapist!’ And that has been the end of many a small friendship. I don’t need a therapist. Never have, never will. Just because I was the baby in the line of three, doesn’t mean I was neglected or some crap.”

“Wow,” Emile said. “Okay. There’s a lot to unpack there, for sure. But, uh, if you don’t want me to...uh...listen, that’s okay. I wouldn’t ‘shrink your head’ if I were your friend, though. Number one thing I’ve learned from talking to therapists when I ask them about what the job is like is that you can’t be a therapist to your friends. You’re too attached to the situation to make an objective observation and help the person see things from another perspective. You’re not in trouble when it comes to that, if you want me to be more than a familiar face.”

“Well, I don’t even want you to be a familiar face, you’re the one who keeps insisting on talking to me,” Remy griped. “No one ever seems to get that I just want to be left alone!”

“Well, I know extroverts don’t understand that,” Emile said. “I’m an...eccentric introvert, I guess? So I understand wanting alone time, but you’ve been alone for at least a week and a half. That’s...not necessarily healthy.”

Remy put down his coffee and groaned into his hands. “Oh. Come on. You care. Too much. You don’t even know me!” he exclaimed, turning to growl at Emile directly. “Why would you even try to get to know someone who is very obviously trying to push you away?!”

“I like the challenge, and I worry about what being isolated does to a person,” Emile responded, without missing a beat or flinching. “If you want to be left alone right now, just say so, and I’ll leave you to get to your next class or wherever you need to go. But know that when I see you again and it’s clear that you’re just hanging out and not doing anything important, I’ll come back to talk to you. Because you’re definitely on my ‘potential friends’ list now, if for no other reason than spite.”

Remy snorted at that. “Yeah, whatever. You keep telling yourself that you’re making a difference, talking to me. If it makes you sleep easier, you can call us friends. But I don’t consider you anything more than the guy who won’t shut up about friendship and being alone.”

“I can live with that,” Emile chirped, standing up. “I really have to get to my next class, but it was nice to meet you, Remy! I hope that maybe I could see you in the student lounge sometime, or maybe on the quad? I’d love to continue our discussion about whether or not friends are beneficial!”

And without another word, Emile left, humming something to himself as Remy watched on. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to toughen up Emile. He was entirely too cheery for Remy’s tastes, and he couldn’t imagine what Emile’s poor roommate must deal with. He just hoped that the guy was more patient than Remy was, because otherwise they might have a homicide on the campus.

[demivampirew]

Keep Calm and Go to London Chapter 20.

(Not a story about Charles, but the gif is appropiate for this chapter)

Synopsis: This is the story of (y/n), a successful actress, musician, musical producer and songwriter. After battling depression and  breaking up a long relationship, she seeks for a change of air, escaping LA for a while going to visit some friends in London and there  she meets Henry. -Disclaimer: some chapters are mostly smut.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (smut)

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (smut)

Chapter 8 (smut/roleplay)

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12 (smut)

Chapter 13

Chapter 14 (smut)

Chapter 15

Chapter 16 (smut/ s&m) Chapter 17

Chapter 18 (fluff-smut)

Chapter 19

Triggers:   mentions of sex (not smut); quarantine. (let me know if there’s any trigger I forgot to mention)

Tag list:  Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank  you    so  much for that) and people who asked me to tag them too  ☺️   (I    think  I will write a few chapters of this story, if you want me to  tag     you, tell me ☺️   ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo   constip8merm8     penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen  littlefreya  wondersofdreaming   alyxkbrl solariumss  sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira   @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog   @lunedelorient​  @michelle-1185​  @madbaddic7ed​     @summersong69​

Henry woke up at 9 am. You were still deeply asleep, so he got up and carefully left the room to not wake you up. He prepared his energetic breakfast and then went to exercise. By the time you got up, you had your avocado toast waiting for you. You made yourself some tea, grabbed the toasts and headed into the room in which your boyfriend was training. He was using a machine whose purpose was to work out the glutes. "Damn," you thought, seeing your man work out his bums. "What a nice view," you said aloud as you drank your tea. Henry didn't notice you until you spoke, because he was concentrated on his routine. He smiled at you and asked you if you sleep well and if you liked the breakfast he prepared for you. He was the sweetest thing in this world. You couldn't believe that he was the same man you spent the night with. For his birthday night, he asked you to do a sequel of Bond-Bond Girl roleplay and you agreed. And boy, he truly loved that game. This time Bond was after your character to help him find someone and she accepted, but he had to pay the price and there was only one did she wanted: him. How could he have the energy to workout after the amazing sex that you had the night before it was a mystery to you. You could barely move after that, but he had energy and strength left on him. What a stud. In the afternoon, Henry was playing games in his office, while you were on the bedroom, having your weekly therapy session over zoom. He had his headset on and was playing a loud game so he would not bother and allow you to feel relax in a safe space to talk. While he was playing, he got a message from his mom, asking to zoom with him. He closed the game and connected with his mom. - Hi mom! - he greeted her - Hi baby! How did you spend the rest of your day? - Marianne asked him - Great! We ate, we watched a movie and had a marvellous time - he explained. - I'm really glad, sweetie. I wanted to apologize again, I've been thinking about it and I think that I come off as rude. I was not my intention. I was excited to meet her and I didn't choose my words wisely.- she apologized. - It's ok mom. Don't worry about it. - How is she doing? - She's great. Now she's in the middle of a therapy session over zoom. She's in our room. - "Our room"? -she quoted him, raising an eyebrow. - So it's official then, you're living together? - Well, I don't know. She wanted to buy a place for her to live in London, but that was before the quarantine. Now, we have been living together for over a month and it has been simply wonderful; hopefully, she'll stay. - he admitted. - That's really great, honey! You two make a wonderful couple. She's a charming lady. - I'm glad you think that. She was afraid that you didn't like her much.- he confessed. - Why not? She's sweet and really cares about you. That's all I ask from her, that she treats you well and make you happy. - She had the impression that you didn't like her because you'd prefer me to be with someone who already wants kids. - he explained to his mother.- I told her that wasn't the case. - Absolutely. In fact, to learn that she's going as far as to go to therapy to try to change her mind about being a mother just because she wants to be with you and make you happy is all the proof I need to know that you're with someone who truly cares about you.- his mother told him, smiling. - But, that's is in fact, something that I was hoping I could talk to you about. - What's the matter? - Henry questioned worriedly. - It stuck with me the fact that she said that she'll do her best to change her mind about it or otherwise, she'd take a step aside and let you find somebody who could give you children. My question is, have you thought about what would happen if she tells you that she cannot do it? I know you, baby, and unfortunately, I have the feeling that you're already sure that she'll change her mind and that could be the case, but I think you should prepare yourself just in case she does not. What are you going to do? Do you really want her to leave if that's the case? - Marianne gave a warm look to her son and continue - She's doing something incredibly important for you; Don't you think that you should do the same for her? I'm not saying try to give up the idea of having kids, but at least you should think if she tells you no, if you could still be with her in spite of that. - she paused for a moment to give Henry time to process her words and continue - Look, I love you and your brothers more than anything in this world; you're truly mean the world to me, but you're not here anymore. I had you, take care of you and now, you're adults; you're your own people and have your own lives and each of you has a family in its own way and we talk over the phone and see each other once or twice a year, you're not by my side every day. I'm not saying this to recriminate anything, of course, just to point out that as wonderful it is to have kids, that's not the only way to have a family and to be happy. I have your father. He's with me and we take care of each other, and that fulfils me. Maybe, you could find that you're happy and complete with just having the right person by your side. Maybe, who knows, she could change her mind on the long road and not exactly in any time soon, even though I wouldn't recommend you to stay with her just for the possibility that if she doesn't change her mind now then she'll change it in the future. If you're going to stay with her although she doesn't want to be a mother, you should be sure that you're ok with that being the case. - she paused again- I just think that's the fair thing to do and that you should prepare yourself for what are you going to do in case things don't go the way you expect. Henry's head was spinning. His mom was right. He never even thought in the possibility of her saying no. He was caught in this beautiful scene of the two of them, having a little kid and he playing with it, that he didn't even want to think in the possibility of her realizing that it was too much for her. He didn't even think about how big was the desition that his girlfriend had to make for him. In his mind, kids were something that he always assumed that someday he had; her case was the contrary. She never wanted children, but she was doing all she could to change her mind, so he could have everything he always wanted, even if that meant to do something that was against her own desires, just because she loved him and wanted to be with him. His beloved mother was in the right when she said that the fair thing to do was for him to think about it too. Could he gave up parenthood if she did not want to have children? Was she enough for him to be happy just staying with her? Could he let her go if she said no? That was something that he needed to think thoroughly. One thing he could be sure now was that his girlfriend loved him deeply. If she's doing all that thinking for him, is only because she truly loved him. And that fact made him fall for her even more. You came out of the room after the session with your therapist and felt exhausted but great. Therapy was like a hard workout session for your body, but it was your mind the one doing the hard work. You called for Henry and he appeared from his office and went directly to you, and without saying a single word, cupped your face with his hands and gave you a kiss that completely took your breath away.

[bandzrus]

The No Fun Tour (Part 16)

The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Masterlist

SUMMARY // You’ve been working as a roadie for Motley Crue for a number of years because of your interest in the music business and family connections with Doc.  The boys just got off tour with Ozzy and things are looking promising for them.  After babysitting Tommy for the last leg of the tour, the two of you admitted your feelings for one another.  Your relationship is now out in the open, and you’re still trying to adjust.

NOTE // well this chapter took me waaaaay too long to write.  I’m also not very happy with it, but it’s a filler chapter so I’ll live a guess. Only 4 more until TNFT is over! Crazy right?

WORDS // 2897

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***

              You couldn’t wrap your head around it.  It had been days and you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you and Tommy had been given the clear.  It didn’t feel real.  Which was funny in and of itself, because when did you and Tommy dating in secret start to feel real?  It was just strange to think that the two of you could go out or talk about whatever you wanted and not have to watch yourselves.  You didn’t have to worry about how much physical contact you were making, or how long Tommy was staring at you anymore.  You could just… hold hands whenever you freaking felt like it.

              Which you did.  A lot.

              So much so that Mick started making gagging noises whenever the two of you walked into the recording booth.  The boys had been going in to record more and more lately, and you kept coming along for the ride.  It was an easy way to spend time with them, since your time together with Motley Crue was going to be coming to an end in a month and a half.  You’d still see them, just not nearly as much as you had in the past. It was going to be weird.  Just as weird as you and Tommy being out and official.

                “I was going to go out for coffee, you boys want anything?” you asked, leaning your hip on the doorframe of the recording room.  Motley Crue was crowded onto the couches around a shrine of empty bottles, cans, ashtrays, fast-food wrappers, and scribbly lyric sheets. Tommy leaned backward over the back of the couch and gave you a big smile.

              “Tall, black?” he said.

              “Of course.”

              “Can you do a booze run too, Y/N?” asked Vince.  He draped his arm over the back of the couch and tried to imitate Tommy’s signature puppy dog eyes.  You always pictured the blond more as a scraggly cat.

              “It’s 2pm Vince.”

              “So?”

              “It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!” Nikki said in an attempt to convince you.  He still had a half-full bottle in his hand.

              “The coffee shop is 5 minutes away, the liquor store is 20,” you sighed.

              “Ah, come on, Y/N, please?” begged Vince.  At this point in your career, you should have been invincible to the band’s pouting.  But you weren’t.  You let out a sigh.

              “Fine.  Just beer?”

              “Daniels.”

              “Anything else?”

              “My groceries?” asked Mick, before he stopped himself.  “Wait, never mind.  Your hands have been on Tommy, I don’t want you contaminating my food.”

              The band laughed.

              “So tall black coffee, beer, and Daniels – got it,” you repeated, smiling at Mick’s tease anyway.

              “Oh!” Nikki shot up.  “If that guy down the street is selling hot dogs—“

              “Fuck yeah, dude, those are killer ‘dogs!”

              “Get the ‘dogs!”

              “The ‘dogs!  The ‘dogs! The ‘dogs!” the boys all started to chant.  Laughing, you pulled your hip off the doorframe.

              “Tall black coffee, beer, Daniels, and ‘dogs; I’ll be back,” you chuckled, giving them a wave and then sliding out of the building.  You shook your head and smiled to yourself.  Every damn day you spent with those boys they made you laugh.  Tucking your hair behind your ear, you headed towards the coffee shop.  The hotdog stand was on the way, and you prayed the guy was actually there today.  You knew what kind of wrath you’d face if you came back empty-handed.

              As you walked, you realized Tommy hadn’t offered to come with.  Usually he’d abandon whatever the boys were working on to tag along with you.  They had been working pretty hard on their new album (which sounded amazing, and they still had a long way to go), so maybe he just wanted to stay and work on it, but now that you’d thought about it, it was going to nag you.  Was something going on?  You’d spent enough time with Motley Crue to pick up signs that they were planning something.  

                Back in the recording studio, Tommy and the boys waited until you had left before they all huddled around the table.

              “So what’s the game plan, T-bone?” asked Nikki, taking a quick swig of his drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.  Mick pulled his guitar into his lap.

              “When she comes backs,” said Tommy, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Vinny, can you introduce the song?”

              “Hell yeah.”

              “Sweet.”

              “Are we just going to start playing it then when Y/N comes through the door?” Mick cocked an eyebrow.

              “That was the thought.”

              “You have those?”

              Vince and Nikki laughed and then Vince slapped the drummer on the back.

              “It’s going to be great, Tommy, she’s gonna love it,” promised the singer.

              “I fucking hope so, otherwise I’m going to look like a dumbass!”

              “I think Y/N is into dumbasses.”

              “Shut up, Mick.”

              You’d overestimated how far away the liquor store was.  It was probably more like 15 minutes; 10 from the coffee shop. Any normal person probably would have felt weird carrying a large coffee, three bottles of Jack Daniels, and a case of beer all together, but you were used to it.  The hotdog guy obviously wasn’t bothered by it either. Coffee and case of beer in one hand, bag of Jack Daniels and hotdogs in the other, you somehow managed to get the studio door open with your foot.

              “I’m back,” you called, waiting for it to shut before you headed to the recording room.  You were trying to make sure you didn’t trip over any empty bottles and spill everything you were precariously balancing in your arms, when Vince’s voice got your attention.

              “And next up we have a song called ‘Without You’,” the singer announced. “Written by Mr. Tommy Lee for the lovely Y/F/N.”  He gave you a huge smile, and then a big sweeping gesture.  You stood there in the doorway, cradling hotdogs as all the boys began to play.

 Without you, there's no change

My nights and days are gray

If I reached out and touched the rain

It wouldn't feel the same

 Without you, I'd be lost

I'd slip down from the top

I'd slide down so low

Girl, you'd never, never know

 Without you, without you

A sailor lost at sea

Without you, woman

The world comes down on me

                They all joined in for the chorus, and maybe it was just you, but Tommy was singing the loudest.  You had been pestering him to sing more (ever since Gilligan’s Island), and in that moment it was the sweetest thing you’d ever heard.  Vince might have been singing the rest of the song, but when you saw Tommy, you knew it was really him singing it to you.

 Without you in my life I'd slowly wilt and die But with you by my side You're the reason I'm alive But with you in my life You're the reason I'm alive But without you, without you

 Without you, there's no change My nights and days are gray If I reached out and touched the rain It wouldn't feel the same

 Without you, without you I'm a sailor lost at sea Without you, woman The world comes down on me

                You were crying.  There in the hallway with your arms full of booze, coffee, and hotdogs, you were crying. You weren’t a crier, but this was the song Mick had told you about over the phone that night after the tour. This was the song Tommy had been working on.  This was the one song you hadn’t heard them play yet and now you knew why.

 Without you in my life

I'd slowly wilt and die

But with you by my side

You're the reason I'm alive

But with you in my life

You're the reason I'm alive

But without you, without you

 I could face a mountain

But I could never climb alone

I could start another day

But how many, I don't know

 You're the reason, the sun shines down

And the nights, they don't grow cold

Only you that I'll hold when I'm young

Only you, as we grow old

 Without you in my life

I'd slowly wilt and die

But with you by my side

You're the reason I'm alive

                In most cases you watched the whole band when they performed.  But right now you had eyes only for Tommy. He wasn’t looking as his drums either; just at you.  As the song wound down, you finally remembered you had stuff in your arms and quickly deposited it on what available table space there was.  Your hands were free just as Vince put down the mic.

              “Oh my god!” you cried, hastily scrubbing your cheeks with the backs of your hands.  “Did you write that, Tommy?!”  You knew he had, but nothing could have prepared you for this.

              The drummer had put down his drumsticks and was making his way over to you when you threw your arms around him.

              “Did you seriously write that?  It’s beautiful!”

              “Yeah,” said Tommy, blushing.  His hands felt warm around your waist.

              “Tommy it’s amazing!”  You planted a kiss on him.

              “I wrote it for you.”

              And there it was again.  Every DAMN time!  You didn’t think you could love him any more and then he did something and somehow you did. For fucks sake he wrote a song about you!  Not only was it the most romantic thing anybody had ever done for you EVER, you knew from years of experience with music that once somebody wrote a song about you – you became immortal.

              “Holy shit Tommy, I can’t believe it.”

              “So you liked it then?”

              “Liked it?!  Tommy, I swear to god there is NOTHING that could make me love you more right now.”

              The drummer finally stopped fighting the smile he had been holding back.

              “Wanna bet?”

              “GET A ROOM!” shouted Mick, causing the both of you to start laughing. Still hugging the drummer for all you were worth, you shuffled over to the couch where the rest of the band was congregating.

              “I can’t believe you guys did that for me,” you breathed, wiping your nose and smiling up at Tommy.  “I can’t believe you wrote the song, AND made me walk 15 minutes to the damn liquor store just so you could surprise me with a concert when I got back!”

              The boys all chuckled and ducked their heads.  They looked so cute and suddenly you were struck with a wave of sadness.  You were going to miss them all so much.

              “It was all Tommy’s idea,” Mick confessed.  “We just went along with it ‘cause we knew it’d make you happy.”

              “Since Mick’s not gonna say it,” sighed Vince.  “We’re all really going to miss you, Y/N.”

              It was your turn to laugh, but you could tell the blond caught the tinge of sadness in it.

              “I’m not gone yet, guys.”

              “Not to ruin this touching moment or anything, but you got the ‘dogs right?” Nikki asked, sliding back onto the couch.  Everyone started laughing and you could feel the sadness leave the room again.

              “Right in front of you, Nik,” Tommy gestured, his hand still resting warmly on your waist.

                Motley Crue had finished their studio session about an hour ago.  All the guys went their separate ways, but Tommy suggested the two of you go for a walk instead of just heading home right away. The air was fresh and it was still light out, plus it was quality time with the drummer.  Hell yes you wanted to go for a walk.

              Somehow being on tour had made you forget how much you loved LA.  You’d spent a lot of time walking the streets in the early days of Motley Crue.  There were so many beautiful houses and little stores that showed off just how unique a place it really was.  It didn’t surprise you at all that so many people came here to follow their dreams – there was something for everyone.  You smiled inwardly knowing you were one of them, and you’d succeeded. It was almost a little scary how perfect your life seemed right now.  A tiny part of you was waiting for the hammer to drop, but you kept reminding yourself that it already had when Doc found out about you and Tommy.  

              You and the drummer had been walking probably for an hour when you came upon a park.  It was getting late, the sun was going down, and the park was empty.

              “Wanna sit down for a bit?” Tommy asked, eyeing up a bench.

              “Only if we get to sit on the playground,” you smiled, tugging at his jacket to follow you.

              “Are we five?”

              “Maaaaybe.”

              It had been a long time since you’d been on a playground.  You’d always been a monkey-bar fiend as a kid and you made a mental note for later to see if you still were.  Clambering up, you laughed as Tommy tried to scale the fire-pole in leather pants and cowboy boots.  Finally you had to give him a hand.  Hauling his dumbass up, the two of you sat on the highest platform and leaned against the rail.

              “The sunset looks cool,” you pointed out.  The clouds were all pink, and just where the buildings interrupted the horizon, the sky was liquid fire.

              “You look pretty cool,” mocked Tommy, bumping your knee with his.  The fucker was so damn cute.  You snuggled into his side and pushed your hand into his. How insane was this.

              “I still can’t believe this is all happening,” you said, finally voicing what had been circulating around in your head since your conversation with Doc.

              “The us-allowed-to-date part, or the management part?”

              “Both.”

              “Yeah, it is kinda insane,” agreed Tommy, resting his head again the rail and looking up at the sky.  You wished you had your camera on you – he looked beautiful.

              “It doesn’t really feel real.  I keep waiting for the hammer to drop or for me to wake up or something.”

              “Me too.”

              “I’m glad it is real.”

              “I really don’t know if I could survive if it wasn’t,” Tommy said.  His chin came to rest on top of your head and you wanted to sit there forever with him.  He smelled good; like Tommy.  The two of you watched the sky for a while, enjoying the quiet; something that didn’t happen often in Motley Crue, until Tommy broke the silence.

              “Did you really like the song?” he asked, rubbing his thumb in circles over your hand.  The look you gave him should have said it all.

              “Tommy, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.”

              “You really mean that?”

              “One-hundred and ten percent.”

              “Mkay.  Just wanted to make sure,” the drummer blushed.

              “If I kiss you, will you stop doubting yourself like an idiot?” you inquired, leaning in until there was barely an inch between your lips.

              “Yes,” promised Tommy.

              So you did.  Gentle and tender; probably the softest you’d ever kissed him.  Reaching your hands up to his hair, you felt the drummer’s rough ones pull you close.  And then you kissed him again – longer this time (and maybe a little harder).  You could feel him smile into it.  Shifting so you could get a better angle, it wasn’t long before the whole thing turned into a damn make-out session.  After a few minutes you had to pull back and laugh.

              “Oh my god,” you snickered.  “I feel like I’m in fucking high school.”

              “It’s the playground.”

              “No, it’s us making out like a bunch of idiots.”

              “Does that mean you wanna stop?”

              “Fuck no.”

              Straddling Tommy’s lap, it was your turn to smile into the kiss.  Making a cute little noise as Tommy’s kisses moved from your lips down your jawbone, you settled into his lap.  The drummer’s lips were still heading south, and you shuddered under the touch of his fingers as they tugged at your collar.

              “Tommy,” you mumbled, brushing your hair out of his way.

              “Mm?”

              “What are you doing?”

              The drummer stopped his kisses for a brief moment to answer, but his hands were starting to lift up the hem of your shirt.

              “Nothing.”

              Your hands were knit deep in his hair, and it was taking a bit more concentration than it should have to keep quiet.  The LA air was starting to cool off and as it hit your skin, you felt yourself break out in goosebumps.  Tommy’s warm knuckles against your stomach as he felt under your shirt were a welcome feeling.  That and the drummer knew what to do with his damn hands.

              “Tommy,” you tried again, feeling your willpower to say no to him decrease by the second.  “We probably shouldn’t be doing this at a park.”

              “Mm, but doesn’t it make you feel like just a little bit of a rebel?” asked the drummer, his hands getting dangerously high and his lips dangerously low.

              “I’ve been a rebel for a long time.”

              “I guess so – you decided to go out with me.”

              “Yes.”

              “Do you wanna –“ he paused for a moment, finally bringing his lips back to yours.  “—go back to my place?”

              To answer his question, you sank a little lower into his lap.

              “I’ll take that as a yes,” Tommy smirked, grabbing your hand and pulling you down the slide.

***

sorry guys!  I don’t know what happened to this post - it was fine up until December 8th.  Hopefully it stays put now.  :(