#i want to put him in a sock and swing it against a wall

[5thelement]

[maxlarens]

Hi! Can i request friends for lovers with lando saying "i can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, [name]." ✨🫶 thank you

usually i am so Consumed by the idea of the ✨Tension✨ of friends to lovers that i never do a confession scene but here is me making good on that finally. i hope u liked this anon!!!! sorry it took a while.

In hindsight, you think you should have woken up that morning and known. Known via some cosmic force that today was going to be it— the day you’d been waiting basically a decade for, the day you don't think you'll forget as long as you live—

Instead, you wake up bolt upright at three in the morning, heart beating frantic in your chest, to five missed calls from your best friend.

"What?", you groan, angry, into the phone, then, realising he's calling you at three in the morning, a more concerned note seeps into your tone, "Lan, is that you? You alright?"

"I locked myself out," is the gravelly reply.

"You locked yourself out?"

"I— yes," he hisses down the line, "I forgot my keys okay."

You snort, say, "You're a silly billy," without thinking anything of it.

You'll attribute it to sleep deprivation later, but you'll also find that Lando thinks nothing further of it, too used to you throwing affectionate nicknames his way—

"Shuddup," he mumbles.

You think he's drunk, at least tipsy. He'd said something offhandedly on your FaceTime call yesterday about going out with a few friends you don't know. Besides, there's a slur to his words, a tiredness.

"Come up already," you tell him.

"'M right outside."

You hum in confirmation that you've heard him, put your phone back on the nightstand and slip out from under the covers. You're wearing a sweatshirt that's three sizes too big it might be Lando's and pink fuzzy socks, you feel goosebumps rise on your legs as you pad to the front door. You lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes as you unlock the padlock and swing it open for your friend.

Lando stumbles in. You twist around to look at him. He's not as drunk as you thought he might be. Sleepy though. You can tell by the squint of his eyes, how they're red rimmed and the mess of his hair. Run through too many times with his hand.

"You want your spare key?", you question as Lando turns on his heel, finding you at the sound of your voice.

He frowns, looking at you like you've grown two heads. Crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Nuh," he shakes his head, then reaches forward to take your wrist, hauling you back through the apartment, "Let's go sleep."

You shrug, acquiescing as he leads you to your bedroom. If you hadn't just been woken up from a dead sleep you might have felt a little weird about it. Paid attention to the stirring feeling low in your gut. Instead, you slip into bed and pull the covers back for Lando without a care in the world.

It's not that weird, you think as he kicks off his shoes and rummages around on your hanging rail for a shirt big enough for him. He finds one that you're sure was originally his. You look away as he changes, shucking out of the short sleeve button up you'd helped him pick out, peeling off chinos you'd also picked out. There's a pair of his gym shorts laying around somewhere, you know it— but he doesn't bother to look for them. Just pulls the t-shirt on over his bare tan chest and climbs in next to you.

You've done this before. Many times. And the two of you make a deliberate point of not being weird about, even though it's been a point of contention in every relationship either of you have had to date. And you don't know what it is tonight this morning, but his presence next to you is making your chest tight. Something skitters up your spine as he slots into your space.

As casual as ever he slings an arm over your waist, tugs you closer to him and presses the line of his nose into the back of your neck. Briefly, he reaches to swipe your hair out of the way, mumbling something about it tickling him.

There's something set ablaze in your stomach.

"G'night, babe," he mutters, breath fanning your ear.

God. You have to suppress a shiver. The babe thing isn't even anything different, he calls you that often enough mostly when he's had something to drink, there's just something about it right now. When you're sleep-woozy and he's just undressed in front of you. Maybe you had a weird dream about him again and you can't remember it, even if your subconscious does.

You bite down on your tongue, answer, "Sleep tight, Lan."

He hums. You crack your neck to stop from letting out a noise that would be utterly indecent right now. Unaware, Lando puts his nose right back in the same spot. You lie there for a while, wired and buzzing, until you hear his breathing steady and deepen as he falls asleep. And even though you feel like every nerve ending in your body is on fire, sleep finds you too.

You wake up again, later, to the morning sun pouring in through your curtains. It lights up the empty space on the bed in front of you. Acreage of bed, pillow, not taken up by anyone.

Still, on your other side, Lando's in your personal space to a degree that you don't realise at first. You wake up disoriented, grappling to remember the events of early that morning. There’s still no cosmic thing telling you that you need to remember today. Commit every single second to memory as it happens. You try to roll over, feeling warmth at your back but not thinking anything of it until Lando gripes something unintelligible into your ear—

Okay. Memories return to you now.

You start to contextualise the skin on yours.

Lando's arm is still slung around your waist, but his hand has made it's way underneath your jumper. Fingers dig into the plush skin of your bare stomach, clutching like you'll slip out of his grasp if he's not careful. Somehow, the other arm has forced it's way under your pillow and you can feel the line of his body against your back, where he's gotten as close to you as he could manage. His legs tangle with yours, one of them spreading out into your space, strewn diagonally across the bed. His knee presses up into the meat of your thigh.

You try not to think how easily your bodies fit together.

You're still for a while. Drifting in and out of sleep. You're comfortable, above all else. You don't really want Lando to move. This certainly isn't the first time you've woken up like this, tangled up with each other, you're betting you'll be able to pass it off with a silly comment once Lando wakes up. You'll extract yourselves from each other and get on with your day like usual.

No big deal—

Lando wakes up half an hour or so later and acts like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He yawns loudly into your ear and rolls over without fanfare—

No big deal—

It's only when you're in the kitchen together— cooking bacon and eggs while Lando drinks coffee from your espresso machine— that the cracks start to show.

You glance at him sideways, watching as he gnaws at the inside of his mouth. His eyes slip off you, directing to the sizzling pan, “What’s up?”, you ask, “Something happen?”

He shakes his head, too quickly, “No. Nope— I—”

He tapers off his sentence, shaking his head. Nose scrunching momentarily. You raise an eyebrow but don’t think much of it. It’s Lando, he’ll tell you if it’s important. Plus, you’re kinda busy right now making sure the eggs don’t burn. A few minutes pass, you ask him to grab plates. He says okay and then drags out an,

“Um,” for so long that you’re a little concerned.

Something nervous flutters in your chest, you’re turning the heat on the burner down low before you know why. You’ve just been friends with Lando for so long, you know when there’s something heavy in his words, when there’s something on the tip of his tongue.

You turn to give him your full attention, your eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him.

“Plates, Lan?”

He’s staring at you. Like, staring at you. Like, slack-jawed, eyes glittering, staring. Like how the guy looks at the girl at the end of every rom-com ever. Like how Harry looks at Sally in every fucking scene of your favourite movie of all time. Like—

Shit. Do you have a massive fuck off pimple on your face? Have you turned blue? Are you being completely out of your mind delusional right now? Because there’s something suddenly wreaking havoc in your stomach. And you really do want to believe that Lando is looking at you in that way, and not just because you’ve got something embarrassing on your face—

“Lando,” you say, firmly, urgency to it, “Spit it out.”

He shakes his head.

You put a hand on his bicep, “Lando.”

It’s got to be that. It’s got to be—

God, your chest feels tight. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s not even said anything yet!

It’s got to be—

He blinks. You think your sudden intensity has made him nervous because he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. A little groan escapes his lips.

“I just—” he sighs heavily, as if it’s too hard to force out; but he’s still looking at you, “What if, I was— ugh, no, nothing, it’s fine—”

“What if you were what?”, it’s out of your mouth before you can think. You think you know exactly what the end of his sentence is. You think perhaps you are too. A pause, then, being braver than you thought you could be, you add, “In love with me?”

He looks immediately as if you’ve sucker punched him right in the gut. Eyes wide and wet and red-rimmed, like kicked puppy, a pleading dog. There’s something scared, nervous, in the set of his shoulders as well. You watch them draw up to his chin as he tries to sink into them.

“Why would you say that?” His voice is downright panicked, “How did you know that?”

Your heart stops beating in your chest, drops into your stomach and falls right out your ass. You shake your head,

“I didn’t. I didn’t. I just guessed, Lan,” you realise your hand is still on his bicep, you squeeze, “Are you?”

“Am I?”, he looks slightly incredulous, baffled at what you’re saying like it’s supposed to be obvious that he is, ��Jesus. Of course I am. I can’t– I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re there all the time. And y’know, I see you and you’re just,” he waves an arm between the two of you, gesturing up and down at your body, “You’re fucken’ gorgeous. And you don’t say a thing when we wake up together and I’m basically, on top of you—”

“You don’t say anything either,” you gripe, even though there’s something like joy clawing up your throat, “I thought it was normal.”

Lando tips his head back, groans something halfway filthy, “Normal. I didn’t let half my exes sleep over, and I turned around if they did sleep in my bed. And— fuck, y’know— my keys are actually in my pants pocket right now. I was out drinking and having fun and all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I just wanted to like, crawl into bed with you.”

“You arsehole.”

“What?”

“You arsehole,” you repeat, “I would have let you in anyway. You didn’t have to lie.”

For a long minute, Lando gapes at you like a fish out of water. Briefly, you think maybe you’ve screwed it by being too mean. It’s never stopped you before, but you’ve also never been in this exact situation with Lando before, frighteningly enough—

One second you’re running through all the possible apologies you could give to make it better, to smooth it all over, and then the next Lando is kissing you—

Or, you feel his hand on your chin first, your mouth forming the first letter of shit, sorry Lan, and then suddenly his mouth is slanting across yours. He tastes a bit like morning breath and a lot like bitter coffee, but his mouth is wet and soft and your lips slot together so perfectly. You put a hand in his curls and find that it feels different to when you card your fingers through his hair.

God.

He’s got a hand on your waist and he’s digging his fingers into your jaw like you’re going to pull away from him without warning and never come back.

“Lan,” you say into his mouth, he pauses long enough for you to speak, lips hovering, nearly touching, “‘M not going anywhere.”

He shakes his head, slanting forward to kiss you again, “No, you’re not,” he pulls back again, pressing his forehead to yours, green-as-grass eyes boring into yours, “Please say you’re in love with me right now?”

Despite yourself, you raise an eyebrow, “Are you in love with me?”

He sighs something ragged out through his nose, kisses you again, says, “‘Course, I’m in love with you. How could I not be,” into your mouth.

You hum from the back of your throat, tongue slipping forward to press against his teeth, tangling against his, “Then of course I am, Lan,” you echo.

How could you not be?

u just know all of lando's gfs/situationships HATED the fuck out of her

[i-dont-wanna-be-me-anymore]

“I Win” | Cagefighter!Logan x Cagefighter!male!reader

Logan x Male!Reader

HC’s about Logan and a cage fighter mutant!male reader

Warnings: blood and violence, mutant!reader, mention of guns, sexual implications, Logan has a pain kink?

Request by: @keigohawks

A/n: so, this was kind of a request that i saw, so I figured why not since I was already like in love with Logan. Also, Im ngl. Watching DP&W, i left the theatre feeling both sad cus of the end credits, and a little turned on.

SET PRE- X-MEN (2000)

—

• When Logan first met him, he wasn’t entirely what he expected. He actually wasn’t even looking at him when he saw him.

• Logan had been facing away from the wall as he heard people booing and yelling strings of curses at the man who just entered the cage. He turned and saw who he was up against. The man was beautiful, so much so that Logan had to do a double take upon seeing him.

• When the match started, Logan waited for the man to swing or at least do something, but he didn’t he just walked along the sides of the cage, watching his every movement. So, Logan charged at him, the metal in his bones making a hard impact as he punched the side of his face, watching him hunch over and spit out blood before he looked up at him, grinning.

• One thing led to another, and after several minutes of the two throwing each other against the walls, kicking each other’s stomachs, socking one another in the face; Logan ended up pinned down to the floor with the fighter’s fists swinging at him, left and right.

• Logan suddenly grabbed his arm and looked up at him, blood seeping down into his teeth from his injuries as he looked up at the man, smiling.

• The man squinted and pinned Logan’s arms down as he put them across his body, choking him with his own arms. Logan tried to use his enhanced strength to get him off, but it was no use, his efforts seemed pointless as the man was left un-harmed by his touch. With that, his vision went black.

• When he woke up, he saw the man sitting across from him, playing solitaire. Logan looked over the man, seeing that any sign of injuries on his face had gone away, or healed up just as soon as he got them.

• “Who are you?”

• One simple question led to him and the unknown, well now known, man to travel together in his truck.

• Logan had never had someone willingly want to go with him, it was always people looking for rides, people stealing his truck (and learning that it wasn’t the best thing to do), but now he actually had someone to talk to.

• Someone that he could actually call a friend.

• Y/n, he learned to be the unknown man’s name, was quite possibly the one person that actually care about him.

• And it even showed when he stuck by his side when finding out about the “X-Men.”

—

A/n: Short and sweet, also guys, I am currently between projects right now. I’m working on two TUA projects. One is Five x reader, that’s on here, and the other is an entire fanfiction, like s1-4 fanfiction, but I’m still on season 1. Anyways, that’s kind of why I took so long posting this. Lmk how this is and if you guys liked it

[byuljoonie]

moonlight // knj

I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…

word count: 5k+ (sorry)

warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism

summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)

note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)

My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.

I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.

Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.

I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.

I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.

“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.

“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.

“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.

“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.

“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.

I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.

“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.

As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.

Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.

After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.

I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.

His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.

I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.

I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.

Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.

Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)

Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…

Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.

I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.

Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*

Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe

Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.

Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.

I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.

“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.

I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.

I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.

“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.

“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.

I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.

“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.

“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.

We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.

Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.

Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.

Me: I think I fucked up lol

Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)

Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.

“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.

I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.

I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.

Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.

I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.

We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.

“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.

“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.

“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.

My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.

I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.

“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.

Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.

“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.

“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.

“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.

He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.

“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.

“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.

I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.

I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.

Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.

“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.

“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.

I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.

He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.

Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.

“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.

Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.

“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”

I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”

That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.

With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.

Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.

Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.

“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.

“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.

Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.

“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”

He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.

His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.

The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.

I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.

The end.

[shoukiko]

Merry Christmas, Simon

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Fluff....just fluff lol

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've been working on this for a bit, just waiting to post it today, I'm all antsy, I really hope you guys like it.

You’ve worked with TF141 for the past three years. Price spoke to Laswell, saying that he thought the team deserved some type of break, so he and Laswell came up with an “amazing holiday getaway” to “a hidden oasis where the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves and the soothing melody of birdsong.”. It was a small cabin in the middle of nowhere, for safety reasons, but you were all grateful for it. It was 2 weeks away, a day would’ve been fine, but she insisted.

It was a week and two days into the trip, snowing outside, your turn for chores. Soap and Gaz sat on the couch in front of an old television watching some soap opera. Price is sitting in one of the lounge chairs, asleep with his arms crossed as his head dangles. You’re tidying up the kitchen after a late dinner, you turn to look at the clock hung on the wall which reads, 12:05. You realize what this entails as you turn to the three men.

“Merry Christmas, guys!” You say cheerfully in their direction.��

“Merry Christmas, Lass.” Soap says from his seat, he nudges Gaz to respond. “Ah- Yea Merry Christmas…” He seems to be too focused on the TV show, who can blame him, those telenovelas are addicting. You decide against waking Price up, the man needs his sleep. As you turn back to the sink you feel a tap on your left shoulder, you turn to see Ghost’s tall dark figure hovering over you, sporting his casual skull balaclava.

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” You tilt your head as you ask, genuinely curious as to what he could need that requires a tap on the shoulder instead of him outright asking.

“You got a minute? Wanted to see if we could have a quick chat.” His tone is somewhat nervous? He isn’t as husky or gritty as usual. “Sure, let me finish up and-” He cuts you off before you can finish. “It’s important. I’ll help you out after.” 

Must really be important if the Ghost tells you it is. “Alright.” You wipe your hands on your apron, untying it from your back and hanging it up on a nearby chair. “Grab your coat.” He dons his own coat, all in one fell swoop. You grab yours, putting it on. 

You both head outside to the porch, each taking a seat on the swinging bench that hangs from the veranda. “Ah wait here-” He says, standing once more, he heads inside and comes back hiding something in his coat. “Whatcha got there, Mister?” You ask him as he sits back down, the bench shifts slightly from his weight.

He pulls out a plastic bag that contains multiple little things, he hands it to you. Taking notice of the slight blush at the end of his fingertips you slowly take the bag. “Merry Christmas… Sorry, didn’t get to wrap it.” A bashful tone in his voice.

“You.. got me something? Man, I feel a little bad, if I would’ve known I would’ve done the same..” You say, hesitating to open it. “Don’t fret over it… Are you gonna open it or just stare at it?”

“Ah right- Sorry” You carefully reach into the bag and pull out one of the small items. It’s… 

“Socks! You got me socks?!” A smile appears on your face, beaming in the night. Despite the mask, his eyes crinkled with a smile. “There’s more if you look.” 

You open the bag more and find more small items, a small tube of vanilla scented lotion, a notepad, and some cinnamon wax melts. You’re happy, but oh so confused by the difference of each item.

“This is… Thank you. I really love it, but what’s with the theme?” You ask with a laugh.

“Well…” He pauses to think for a minute. “It’s all things you wanted.” “Huh..?”

“A couple days ago you said you couldn’t find your winter socks, then you said you forgot your hand cream back at home, then you said while eating dinner two nights ago that you love the smell of cinnamon during Christmas because it reminds you of good memories from your childhood.” You’re taken aback, you don’t remember saying any of these things until he brings it up, such small things and yet he remembers. 

“You… you actually remember?” A faint blush appears on your face as you scan over your new gifts, suddenly feeling warm despite the subzero temperatures. “Uhm.. Thank you.. Really. Was this what you wanted to talk to me about?”

“No, actually.” His expression becomes somber as he closes his eyes and takes a breath, he turns his body slightly and rests his arm on the back of the bench. “Look, I don’t know how else to bring this up.”

“What’s wrong?”

Ghost grips the back of the bench before meeting your eyes.

"Listen, I've been thinkin' a lot lately, and I reckon I need to be straight with you. You mean a proper lot to me, more than I can put into words. I'm mad about you, every single goddamn I hear your voice or that stupid laugh.. It’s like something shifts in me. I care about you, more than  I have about anyone in a long time, but…”

Your heart beating out of your chest, uncertain on how to respond. All you can let out is a

“But..?”

He looks down, almost like he’s ashamed before responding.

“I’m.. scared, terrified. Of hurting you.. Or you getting into an accident during a mission. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” His tone is serious, but you can hear a sense of fear.

You look at him with genuine eyes, you almost can’t believe what’s happening in front of you, the Ghost confessing his feelings for you. “But…” He continues. “If you’ll have me, I’m willing to take that leap into uncertainty with you. If… you want.”

You look at him as if you’re a deer caught in headlights. You begin to lose your breath, blinking,  unable to process what was said to you. You take a moment before replying…

“I- I….” You struggle to find the words, you want to scream, but you also want to take it slow and really talk about it. You can see him become antsy, your silence bringing tension to the cold air around you. “Ghost I..”

“It’s fine.” He interrupts.

“What?”

“It’s fine, I know it’s sudden. I’m sorry.” He says, there's a slight hurt in his voice, he goes to stand. Just then you grab his arm, stopping him.

“I want.” “...What..?” “You said if I want…. Well.. I want, I don’t know how else to say it. I do want to be with you. I want to jump into that uncertainty with you. Please.” There’s a tinge of desperation in your voice, you feel as if you say nothing now, you will never have this opportunity again.

Ghost looks as if a wave of relief has washed over him. 

“I thought you were gonna make me think I said all that for nothin’.” His eyes crinkle slightly as he adjusts himself once more.

“I’m sorry, I got nervous, I didn’t want to say the wrong thing.” You begin to fidget with your hands in your lap, a faint blush appearing on your faces as you turn away. 

You feel him inching closer to you, the heat from his body radiating, bringing warmth for both of you to share.

He softly grabs your face with his right hand, turning you towards him. You take glances at his mask and eyes, unable to lock on a single thing. He pulls up his mask just above his nose and leans in, pressing his lips against yours. Only a few seconds before you lean into him, grabbing onto the sleeve of his coat. He places a hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. You pull away for just a second to catch your breath. The both of you share a look, complete silence, then..

He chuckles, “Well then..” You place a hand on your mouth as you stare at him, stifling a small laugh. “That was something.” You manage to say through your giggles. You place your hand on his, a loving smile forms on your lips. He begins to caress the back of your hand, his touch gentle, yet warm. “Thank you…. Merry Christmas, Doll.” He looks up at you with gentle eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Simon.”

[skepsiss]

For the @steddiesummerexchange to @stevesjockstrap!

Batter Up: Chapter 2 of 5

Read [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3]

Rated: Explicit

Summary: This fluffy story is about Baseball Player Steve Harrington, meeting Rock Star Eddie Munson and the whirlwind 1-week romance turned committed relationship. They're instantly obsessed with one another, but neither knows how to take things to the next level. Enjoy Steve being a love-sick idiot! (The story turns explicit in Chapter 4, other chapters are all fluff). In this chapter, we get to read Eddie's POV and how obsessed he is with Steve, too. Chrissy is here to cheer him on.

Read Chapter 2 below, or [read it on Ao3]

Big thank you to @thefreakandthehair for beta reading for me and helping me with my NBA terms!

Graphic made by me!

”I want to bite his ass like it’s a fucking apple,” Eddie gritted out, his hands tense and clawing at the air as he seemingly held back unfathomable amounts of sexual tension. “Gross!” Chrissy trilled, bouncing the squash ball in her hand against the ground to warm it up. “You don’t need to be so crass, Eddie.” “You don’t understand—” Eddie hissed, sitting forward in his seat as he spoke to Chrissy through the plexiglass. She gave him an unimpressed look, saying ‘really’ silently with a twisted lip and a raised brow. “Okay, you understand— just! He’s so fucking hot, and I swear to fucking God if he lets me near him, I’m going to go berserk,” Eddie groaned, sighing dramatically as he bounced his leg. “Don’t you have a date tomorrow?” Chrissy asked, squeezing the little black ball in her hand a few times before casually starting to bounce it against her racket. “That’s the problem! Chrissy! Jesus Christ—he’s like… fucking Adonis. How am I—I clam up like a Mongolian death worm every time he gets near me. I can’t—I can’t even get close to laying the moves on him ‘cause I’m, like, fucking useless. It isn’t even a date tomorrow. It’s like a poorly concealed, deep-fake, seduction attempt. I don’t know! You know I’m fucking useless at actually flirting with guys unless I’m off my fucking rocker, high out of my mind,” Eddie lamented, finally standing up and beginning to pace. Chrissy’s shoes squeaked on the floor as she served and started to play a single game of squash by herself. She was listening, Eddie knew she was, this was sort of par for the course with them. He was on Chrissy’s time, and he wasn’t going to complain about being stuck inside a squash court with his best friend, even if it smelt like an old sock. 

Alright, maybe he would complain a little bit.

“But we’re not—” Chrissy puffed, exerting herself as she kept up the conversation, “—going to get high—right?”

“No, I’m not going to get high,” Eddie groaned, feeling his fingers twitch against his leg. He had given drugs up—or at least he hoped he had—but that didn’t mean that it made existing without them easy. “I don’t want to depend on drugs to flirt, I just—I wish I was starting out with a smaller-fry, you know? First big thing out of rehab, and I’m smacked in the face with Steve Harrington? Why didn’t you tell me about him earlier? He’s just—-ugh! Chrissy!” Eddie whined, his stature devolving as he crumpled to his knees on the squishy floor. 

“Not my fault—you refused every invite—to baseball before—now,” Chrissy retorted, the bang of the ball against the wall making it a bit difficult to hear her. “You didn’t tell me my fucking Achilles heel of men existed in cotton spandex pants, and a baseball cap,” Eddie complained, crawling back over to the bench to pull himself up onto it. “He looks so fucking good, Chrissy. God… it’s like the gods sculpted his ass and put it inside white sheets woven from the strings of fate itself.” Chrissy missed the swing and puffed, putting her hands on her hips as she caught her breath. “You’re really….” she sighed, finally looking over at Eddie and smiling at him, “... into this guy, Eddie. You going to write poetry for all the boys you get a crush on? It’s pretty cute, actually.” “Don’t call me cute,” Eddie huffed, rolling his face toward the bench to hide from Chrissy. “I just… don’t want to fuck this up, Cece…”

Eddie heard the door to the squash court open and the muted sound of Chrissy’s shoes against the mats. It didn’t take long for her to get to the bench and sit down with him, her fingers instantly in his hair. It was soothing, and Eddie only resisted for a moment before he inched forward and put his head in her lap. 

“You won’t mess it up…” Chrissy repeated, tailoring her reply so she wasn’t swearing as well. Chrissy was sweet, and Eddie was no stranger to this sort of kindness from her. They had dated, once upon a time, and Eddie could confidently say that Chrissy was the only person he had been with that he had really loved. He still loved her, even though they weren’t together, and he didn’t think he could ever not love Chrissy Cunningham, but the attraction they had once shared was void now. They just weren’t meant to be romantic, but Eddie knew that losing that intimacy with Chrissy had destroyed his heart. Still, he was more than grateful to have her as a friend. No one knew him better than Chrissy, and he didn’t hold out hope for them to get back together. It had been the drugs that had broken them up, but it had been Chrissy’s confession that she was more attracted to women that had kept them apart. 

He didn’t begrudge her, but Eddie had never been able to shake the feeling that he had been the one to fuck everything up for them. That it was his shortcomings that had poked holes into an already sinking ship. He was great at that kind of stuff— an expert at ruining a good thing. 

“I don’t know… if I’m ready,” Eddie confessed, his necklaces clinking together as he rested his head on Chrissy’s thighs. 

“Ready for what?” Chrissy asked, her voice gentle as she continued to pet his hair away. “A relationship…” Eddie sighed. He had been single for years now and had only really pursued flings or one-night stands. Even then, he had gotten out of rehab a few months ago and he hadn’t even tried to hook up with anyone since getting out. It was too intimidating to flirt when he didn’t have drugs to rely on, and now he was being blindsided by the prospect that he didn’t just want to sleep with Steve. 

“You really like this guy, huh?” Chrissy smiled, her tone so caring it made Eddie’s heart ache. 

He hid again, rolling his face into the crisp white of Chrissy’s uniform. She looked tooth-achingly sweet in it, and Eddie only let himself feel a little bad for getting eyeliner on her skirt. 

“Oh, Eddie…” Chrissy lamented, still petting his head. “You’re allowed to want things, sugar.”

Eddie let out a held breath, his fingers clenching at the soft fabric of Chrissy’s outfit. “But what… if I fuck it up?” He asked again, the fear edging into his voice as he let himself get vulnerable. “How would you mess it up?” Chrissy asked, sounding more like a mother than someone Eddie’s own age. “I don’t know,” Eddie whined, “open my mouth and speak? Show him the fact that I’m a giant fucking nerd with an ego the size of Australia and daddy issues that span the Atlantic Ocean?” 

“You’re being dramatic,” Chrissy sighed, her tone remaining gentle. “Even if that was true, if he doesn’t like or well… accept that kind of stuff about you, he’s not going to be a very good boyfriend.”

Eddie groaned softly, knowing that Chrissy was right, but hating the idea that they could just not work out, and he would have to let go of the idea of Steve Harrington. “What if… he’s just looking for something… short term?” Eddie questioned, feeling his heart and stomach clench in unison. “Well, then you get at least one great night of sex with playboy, Steve Harrington,” Chrissy replied matter-of-factly.

“Chrissy!” Eddie gasped, lifting his head to look at her. He was only mildly scandalized that she would say something forward like that, but he amped up his reaction to get a smile out of her. 

“Lots of ladies are frothing at the mouth to get a date with him, you know,” she continued, grinning. “And you’ve gotten, what? Four dates in the last week?” Eddie breathed a laugh and put his head back down, smiling at her reassurances. She was right. They had been flirting pretty relentlessly, and Eddie was certain Steve was interested in him. So, for flirting to extend over the course of a week… that had to mean Steve wanted more than just a fling, right? 

“You really think I have a shot with him?” Eddie asked, his voice quiet as he turned the idea of just kissing Steve over in his mind. 

“I really think you do,” Chrissy concluded, tugging Eddie’s earlobe until he hissed and sat up. “You’re a catch, Eddie.” He smiled bashfully at her and looked away, rubbing his ear. “Really,” Chrissy offered, patting his thigh. “If you’re just you, really you, without any of the fame or drugs or anything like that… he has to fall for you. If he already likes you enough to ask you out, I have no doubt that he’ll like the real you, Eddie.” 

Eddie frowned, still unable to look at Chrissy as she placated him with compliments. The worst part of it was that he knew she meant it. They weren’t in love, but he loved her. “You’re succeeding in helping my ego take over New Zealand, too,” Eddie teased, sniffing as he tried to hide how touched he was by Chrissy’s comment. She gave his thigh a good pat and then stood up, tucking the frills of her skort behind her as she walked back toward the squash court. 

“Who knows, Eddie,” Chrissy chimed, “maybe this is the makings of real love.” She flashed him a little smile and then slipped back into the court, picking her racket up and starting to warm the ball again. 

Eddie blinked at her, and then slowly felt his cheeks flush as he took those words in. Real love, huh? He really liked the idea of falling in love with Steve. 

Chapter 3

[kimbapisnotsushi]

As far as public bathrooms go, the one at Ocean’s Edge isn’t all that bad for throwing yourself a pity party in.

The sinks are all sleek and modern-looking, with gold faucets and polished stone basins. Large oval mirrors hang above them, and—true to the club’s name—little neon fish swim all over the navy-blue walls. [Speakers somewhere in the ceiling play the lulling sounds of waves rolling against the shore.] There’s even an air freshener plugged into the corner that puffs out coconut-scented mist every ten minutes[, so that you can truly feel like you’re in a tropical paradise while throwing up from however many drinks it takes to make you forget about a shitty day.]

The black stall isn’t exactly roomy, but Morisuke has just enough space to stretch out his legs while he perches on the edge of the toilet, chewing his bottom lip as he stares at his phone. The screen is bright in the bathroom’s dim lighting and draws all of Morisuke’s attention like a moth to a flame. 

Please, reads the last message. It had been two weeks since then. Kuroo, talk to me. What did I do?

Kuroo never responded. Rereading the conversation makes Morisuke feel like he’s dragging the claw of a hammer across his heart, but he keeps scrolling farther and farther back. 

Let’s end it, Kuroo had written. This didn’t really mean anything, after all. I have better things I could do with my time.

Six months. Six fucking months, and none of it meant anything, apparently. Not the late nights they stayed up to make fun of inaccurate sci-fi series, or the times they met early at the cafe for breakfast because it was their only chance to get together for the day. Not even the time Kuroo opened up about his mother, his gaze distant, and Morisuke had held his hand to anchor him to what was real and here and whole. He still remembers that soft smile Kuroo had given him after, the way they'd curled up on the couch like two puzzle pieces slotting together. Morisuke had offered him tea, hot chocolate, whatever he needed. Kuroo just laughed and kissed his temple.

All I need is you, he had said. You're perfect, Yakkun. i couldn't ask for anything more.

And then not even a week later, Morisuke was getting dumped over text.

"Stupid," he says out loud now. “Dumbass. Idiot. Why the fuck did I ever fall for him?”

The bathroom door creaks open, letting noise from the club spill in, but Morisuke doesn’t pay it any mind until he hears a familiar voice calling out his name. 

“Morisuke? Are you here?”

“No,” Morisuke grumbles. His voice echoes off the bathroom walls. “Go away.”

“You made me promise to stop you before you do anything stupid.” Footsteps fall closer until they pause right outside Morisuke’s stall. Damn Sugawara Koushi and his unwavering loyalty—he’d probably break in if he had to. “Are you planning on doing anything stupid?”

Morisuke unlocks the stall door and lets it swing open. He glares at Koushi, who just smiles back at him. It’s a hot summer night and they’d been surrounded by heated bodies on the dance floor, but Koushi still looks totally put together. Meanwhile, Morisuke is sweating through his socks and the back of his neck feels way too warm.

So, yeah, he’d needed a break. It’s not like he came to the restroom just to feel sorry for himself. 

“You had me worried,” Koushi says. “The last time I saw you, you were downing your seventh shot. And that was after the two drinks you already had.”

Was it really? Morisuke hadn’t been keeping track. He’d just asked for something strong. And again. And again. And then for one more, perhaps two or three times. Maybe five. 

Whatever. Morisuke is feeling perfectly fine. His head is a little foggy, sure, but he’s fine. He can totally think this through. 

“I wanna text him.”

Koushi makes a choked sound. “Oh, no. You are very drunk, aren’t you?”

“I’m not.” Morisuke frowns at his phone. “He never told me why. I want to know that much, at least.”

The door to the stall next to Morisuke’s flies open with a bang, and he and Koushi jump. A body wedges itself between them: tall and broad-shouldered, with artfully-tousled chestnut hair, glasses framing brown-sugar eyes, and a jawline that could cut through steel. Hot, but not Morisuke’s type.

Kuroo had been Morisuke’s type.

-- an excerpt from don't text your ex, a kuroyaku exes-to-lovers fic where yaku gets unsolicited advice from a stranger in the club bathroom

[kennascreepycorner]

My Adoring Phantom - Part 2

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ on repeat: Doomsday - Lizzy McAlpine

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ word count: 1,131

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ trigger warnings: dissociation, abuse, sexual assault

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ summary: reader gets triggered, wally comforts them, then wallys dark side comes out a bit

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

January 2nd, 2016

As you woke up, you remembered. You were stuck in your high school. As your memory floods back, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Wally. Which, if you told yourself two days ago that you would be blushing over a dead football player, would sound absolutely insane. Sitting up, you check the time. 9:00 AM. School has been going for a while now.

You sit up, swinging your legs from the couch to the floor. You pull out the change of clothes you always keep in your backpack. Nothing fancy, a light pink Harley Davidson shirt, a gray zip up hoodie, and plaid pajama pants. You quickly change, deciding to leave your shoes off, but socks on. What's the harm? You’d be here for.. A while. May as well get comfortable, right? 

You walk through the halls, peering into some classrooms. Everything seems oddly unchanged. There's a small memorial for you in the drama room, but that's about it. As you finally reach the gym, you have to blink away the tears you feel beginning to form in your eyes. 

Taking a deep breath, you open the doors to the gymnasium. The group is there, sitting in their little circle. There's a chair for you, between Charley and Wally. You walk over to it and sit down, feeling somewhat mortified as to what the morning had held for you so far. You pulled your knees to your chest, letting your face fall into them. You wanted to disappear, but it didn’t seem you could anymore than you already had.

You feel Wally’s hand on your back, and then see his face in your line of sight. Your eyes had betrayed you and tears were steadily flowing out of them. The more you tried to stop, the more you wanted to cry. Before you could process it, Wally had swept you up in his arms and was carrying you out of the gym. 

“What’re you-” You began a sentence.

“I could see you crying. I’m not gonna let you put yourself through sitting there silently crying. I can’t watch that.” He set you down as you were in the hallway now.

‘I have too many times already.’ He thought to himself. You pressed your back against a wall and slowly slid down, crumbling into tears.. 

“What happened?” He sat down next to you, arms propped up on his knees, looking slightly down at you.

“I was walking around and everything was just- Nothing changed after I died, Wally. It’s like I was never even here.” You curled in on yourself as you spoke.

Oh how badly he wished he could tell you how much he loves you, how much he wants to be with you. About how he cared about you, he has since he saw you. He knows everything. But he doesn’t want to scare you. 

“It’s gonna be okay. C’mere.” He opened his arm, allowing you to curl against the side of his body and cry into his letterman jacket. You sobbed for what felt like hours. Eventually you fell asleep on him, probably from exhaustion. 

“Oh, you’re so precious.” He mumbled to you as he slowly and carefully picked you up. He carried you bridal style, and your hand found its way to his jacket. You gripped his jacket and pulled yourself closer to him, still asleep. He ended up having to leave his jacket with you because you wouldn’t let it go. He carried you to the teachers lounge, setting you on the couch. He kissed your forehead and intended to leave after that.

But then you whimpered his name in your sleep. It made his cock twitch more than he would’ve liked to admit. He wanted to touch you, to feel your body. But he had to wait. He had to find the right time. It was too soon. He fought the dark thoughts that he had, the ones of pinning you down and taking what he wanted- no matter what you said. So he turned and walked out of the door. He had more strength than he thought. 

February 3rd, 2016

It was getting closer to Valentine's day. The tension between you and Wally had been growing by the day, and you were almost certain that he was going to ask you to be his Valentine. Though, you weren't really sure if they did that here or not.

“Hey Y/n.” Wally walks up to you, as you sit on the football field picking at grass. 

“Hi Wally.” You looked up at him as he fidgeted with his golden chain. He sat down next to you, extremely close. He looked at you, but something was different in his eyes. 

“Are you okay?” You question, touching his shoulder lightly. He reacts quickly, taking your hand and pinning you to the grass. 

“You’re such a tease.” He growled in your ear. You shuddered at his hot breath against your neck. He moved his hands to where one was pinning your hands to the ground, and the other had your hip pinned. 

“Wally what do you-” He slapped you before you could respond. You felt your legs squeeze as he did this. Your mind raced. 

How did he know you liked this stuff? You haven't mentioned it at all. 

“Shut up, you’ll speak when spoken to.��� You nod in agreement, biting your lip. 

“Let me tell you how this is going to work, sweetheart.” You feel his fingers trace along the lines of your pajama pants, slightly dipping below them. 

“You’re stuck here with me,” His hand moves below your pants, beginning to rub against your throbbing cunt. You began to try and fight him, not wanting to be touched like this.

“So I will do as I please with you, and if you don’t submit,” He let out a low chuckle at your struggling against him, and the small whimpers falling from your lips. 

Suddenly, he punched you in the stomach. Your vision blurred with tears, and you stopped squirming. 

“Good girl,” He mumbled, rubbing your stomach where he hit it. 

“See, if you don't struggle, I don't have to hurt you.” He smiled like he said something sweet and romantic.

“It was your fault, I had to hit you, you wouldn’t stop fighting me.” He comforted you as you looked confused and scared. 

He sighed, realizing he needed to dial it back. He could have more fun later. 

“C’mere baby,” He sat the both of you up, allowing you to crawl into his lap. 

“Just my little girl. My dumb, useless baby. Can’t do anything on your own.” You felt yourself relaxing as he manipulated you into a pacified state. You didn’t mind this. Maybe it was your fault he hit you.

[neewtmas]

ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀᴜɴᴛɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴀʙʙᴇʏ ʜᴏᴜꜱᴇ // ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴠ

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

wordcount: 4.6k

summary: a case that takes longer than expected, an unrequited crush, and the hardest decision you ever had to make

a/n: this part was fun to write, that's all i'm gonna say

masterlist series masterlist

taglist: @maraschinomerry @sstrawberriel @poisonquinzell @holymotherfxrkingshirtballs @the-high-lady-of-3am-crackposts @oblivious-idiot @bobbys-not-that-small @myownpainintheass @taygrls @marinalor @y0urm0m12 @fearlessmoony @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @quack-quack-snacks (if you wanna be added or removed, just tell me)

Neither of you said anything. You had finished folding your clothes, even stacking them neatly on top of the blanket and patting them down to make sure it was perfect.

"I've never seen you put that much effort into folding clothes."

You whipped around, immediately crossing your arms in front of your chest as if it would protect and hide you from his eyes.

"I'm not trying to show up in crinkled clothes tomorrow evening", you shot back.

George gave you a small smile. "I see. I'll get changed then."

You turned your back to him, your eyes now fixed on the dirty grey of the old wallpaper that was peeling off the wall in several places. Your arms were still crossed, fingers digging into your sides and grasping at the fabric of the shirt just to have something to hold onto.

"Done."

You turned around slowly, feeling relief wash over you at the sight of George wearing a shirt and pyjama pants. At least for that, Lucy had been kind enough.

After you all had brushed your teeth in the small bathroom a few doors down, it was time to sleep. When you returned to the room, George was already in bed, comfortably under the covers.

You turned off the light with the switch by the door and found yourself in complete darkness. It seemed like some clouds had made their way in front of the moon, blocking all its light. You tried your best to remember the short way to your bed, hands stretched out in front of you to make contact with whatever could possibly be in your way before you ran into it. But to no avail. While your hands were already securely placed on the thin mattress, your foot caught on the bedframe and you let out a strangled curse at the piercing pain shooting up your toe.

"You good?" There was rustling of a blanket, indicating that George had sat back up.

You clenched your teeth, forced out a sound somewhat resembling a yes and crawled onto the bed. The pillow was flat, and the blanket you immediately pulled up to your chin was thin and scratchy. You closed your eyes, trying to calm down your breathing and ignore the pain in your foot. The sooner you fell asleep, the sooner this ordeal would be over.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

As it turned out, the more desperate one was to fall asleep, the harder it was. Half an hour later, after you had turned over approximately a thousand times, you were still wide awake. The cold of the night had crept into the room, and no matter how tightly you wrapped the blanket around yourself, it didn't help against the slight shivering that had taken over your body. The bed probably hadn't been very comfortable even at its best time, but years of use had left their mark and now it felt like you might as well just sleep on the floor for a similar level of comfort.

You listened. It was quiet, both in the natural and supernatural sense. George was breathing steady and deep, from the sound of it he was already asleep. You contemplated for a moment, then carefully removed the blanket from your body and sat up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You flinched as your bare feet came in contact with the ice-cold wooden floor, but you didn't feel like searching for your socks in the dark so you would just have to be quick. Somewhere in your bag were flashlights, but you didn't want to risk waking George by searching for them under chains and salt bombs, so you'd have to pass on those as well. You quietly tip-toed to the door, tensing up briefly at the creaking hinges before you slipped out onto the dark hallway. You kept close to the wall and felt with your hand over the wallpaper until you reached the next room.

It took you a second to find the doorknob, but when you twisted it open, you were met with what looked like an old storage room. So you closed the door and kept on going to the next room. It was a bedroom, but to your great disappointment, both beds were without a blanket. You closed the door again, leaving yourself in the thick darkness of the hallway. The cold of the house was beginning to catch up to you, what had been just a slight tremble before was now full-on violent shivering. You decided to take one last chance and blindly felt around until you found the door on the other side of the hallway. Another bedroom, this time with blankets, but they looked old, and dirty, and like they would disintegrate the moment you picked them up, so you had to admit defeat. Time to sneak back into bed and hope to warm up at least a little.

It took you a while to find the way back to your room. You pushed open the door and gasped when you were met with George standing in front of you, looking like he had been about to open the door himself.

"What are you doing?", you hissed, letting go of the edge of the door you had clutched seconds earlier, trying to hide how much he had scared you.

"I could ask you the same thing", he whispered back. "I wanted to check on you. You took a long time." His gaze fell onto your hands which were now clasped together in front of you to hide the shivering. "You are shaking, (name)"

"No shit. It's freezing in here. I wanted to check the other rooms for extra blankets. But there aren't any."

Neither of you said anything for a few long moments.

"I'm cold too", George finally admitted.

You didn't dare look at him. The implication of the next logical step was hanging heavy between you.

"Do you think… maybe… would you mind sharing?" George asked, his voice sounding somewhat strangled. You could only imagine how badly he wished to be in his bed in Portland Row right now - warm, cosy and far away from you.

"If you're fine with it, I'm fine with it", you quietly said. Your voice sounded strangled too, you noted, though for very different reasons.

George stepped aside to let you in and closed the door behind you while you made your way over to your bed to snag your blanket. George's flashlight was perched upon his bedside table, switched on to the lowest setting.

"Which side do you want?", George asked behind you. You had your blanket bunched up in front of your chest as you stared down at his bed.

"Left side."

George went to straighten out his blanket before he gently took your blanket from your grip and laid it out on top. He climbed in, got situated close to the wall, and you could feel your heartbeat quicken as you realised how small of a space was left for you. He raised the corner of the blanket and looked at you expectantly, so you sat down on the edge of the bed. The mattress felt much more comfortable than your own, and when you took the blanket corner from him and laid down, it was still cold but much more manageable than with only one blanket.

Your whole body was stiff as laid on your back, arms at your side and eyes fixed onto the ceiling. You could feel George next to you, much closer than you had anticipated.

"Could you switch off the light?", George asked. You reached over, careful not to move around too much, and with a little click the room was dark again.

Your breathing was shallow, and you prayed that George wouldn't notice and would just fall asleep as quickly as possible. He moved around next to you, seemingly trying to find a comfortable position, and you couldn't help but feel guilty that he now had only half of an already narrow bed left.

"Oh shit, forgot my glasses", he suddenly mumbled and before you could process what was happening, he was reaching over you to place his glasses onto the nightstand. You swore your heart skipped several beats as you felt his breath ghost over your face for a few seconds, his warmth and weight on your side before he rolled back.

Neither of you said anything, and you tried your best to breathe evenly, though your heart was now beating out of your chest and you felt a little dizzy. How were you supposed to fall asleep like this?

George turned around again. You bit your lip. "Are you comfortable? I can go back to my bed -" "No!", he interrupted you. "No, it's all good. I'm a side sleeper anyway."

You nodded, though he couldn't see you.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

Were you? It wasn't as simple as yes or no. You weren't shivering anymore. And you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy this at least a little bit. But there was also not much space to avoid body contact.

"Yes", you breathed out.

A brief silence, and it felt like George wanted to say something.

"Good night, (name)."

"Good night, George."

He moved around a little more before settling down, and his breathing soon turned steady. You, on the other hand, hadn't moved at all. You stared into the dark, willing for sleep to take you away, but it seemed the universe wasn't on your side tonight.

Finally, when you were sure George was asleep, you turned onto your side with your back to him. You never slept well on your back, and maybe sleep would come quicker that way. But no matter how carefully you shifted around, the bed was so small that your movement seemed to have disturbed him nonetheless. He moved behind you, and you half expected him to say something, maybe ask for more space or for you to go back to your bed. Instead, you had to bite back a noise of surprise as you felt his arm wrap around your waist. Next thing you knew, he had pulled you back against his chest.

"George", you breathed out, your voice almost giving out on you. No answer. You said his name again, a little louder this time. Nothing. His breathing was steady - he was still asleep.

His arm felt heavy on your side, in a very comforting way. You tried to ignore the way you could now also feel his breathing from his chest rising and falling against your back, or the way his hand gripped your shirt - no his shirt. You were wearing his shirt and sleeping in his bed, in his arms. Were you dreaming?

But the anxiety that pooled in your stomach felt too real. As much as this was what you had wished for a million times, just thinking about the next morning made your stomach tie itself in knots. George would be so embarrassed, disgusted even. He, who never went for physical contact when it wasn't necessary.

You knew he wasn't as opposed to it with you, you were a close friend after all. And maybe a position like that was just what happened when two people slept in a narrow bed together. But you couldn't imagine he wouldn't feel extremely uncomfortable about it nonetheless. Not only had you exploited his kindness by making him share his bed just because you felt a little cold - but now you also had forced yourself on him like that.

The longer you thought about it, the more your head hurt. But even though you tried your best to fight it, you couldn't help your tense muscles slowly relaxing in his embrace. The warmth that emanated from his body enveloped you like a cocoon and made you feel safe and secure. Like nothing in the world could hurt you now. As your limbs got heavier and heavier with relaxation and sleep, you scooted back, cuddling a little closer to him. He responded to it, even in his sleep, by tightening his arm around you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘ NEXT MORNING ⫘⫘⫘⫘

The sound of a door slamming pulled you from a deep, dreamless sleep. The first thing you noticed was that you must have turned over during the night because George was now lying on his back. Your head was resting on his chest that was rising and falling with his breaths, his arm securely around your back, holding you in place. You blinked a few times, not daring to move even a little.

Early morning light filled the room, and you could hear steps in the hallway outside your door. That was when you realised that you had to get out of this bed as soon as possible if you wanted to avoid getting mercilessly teased by Lucy for the rest of your life.

You tried to sit up, which was made difficult by George's arm around your middle. He was still grasping at your shirt and you realised there was no way you were gonna be able to get away without waking him up. With some difficulty, you moved off him, and as expected, he started stirring. Your stomach was doing one backflip after the other as he blinked up at you, hair dishevelled from sleep. You fought the urge to lean down and close the small gap between you and - no. No.

He groaned and pushed himself up on his elbow. That's when his eyes wandered down to his other arm, which was still somewhat wrapped around you, his hand dangerously close to the bare skin of your hips where your shirt had ridden up from the way he had been grasping it in the night.

"(name) -" The way he said your name, his voice deeper than usual from the sleepiness clinging to it, sent shivers down your spine.

"I -", you began but got interrupted by several loud knocks on the door.

“(name)! George! Are you awake?” That was Lucy.

Your body moved of its own accord, and you shot up from the bed as if it suddenly burned your skin. Just then, the door opened and Lucy stuck her head in.

“Are you two – oh.”

Her eyes wandered over you standing next to George’s bed, looking like a deer caught in the headlight, over to George who had just put his glasses on and finally over to your bed, which stood against the wall, the lack of blanket and pillow making it obvious that no one had slept there last night.

“Oh.”

You looked at her with wide and pleading eyes, trying to shake your head as subtly as possible as you mouthed a please no. You felt George’s gaze burn on your back. Never before had you wished so badly for the ground to open up and swallow you.

Lucy looked back and forth between you and cleared her throat.

“Well, we thought about going down to the village to get some breakfast. Figured you'd like to join us.”

Your shoulders slumped down in relief.

“Sure,” you said and with a few strides you were by your bed, grabbing the stack of clothes.

“I’ll get changed.”

With that you pushed past Lucy, fleeing the scene without another glance at George.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

After ten minutes in a locked bathroom and several splashes of cold water to the face, you felt somewhat ready to face your friends again. You just had to hope Lucy had taken the hint and wouldn’t say anything, at least not with George around.

On the way down the driveway, Lockwood filled you in on the plans for the day. You would walk down to get some breakfast at a bakery he had spotted on the cab ride the day prior, and then split up.

"Lucy and I will talk to the locals", Lockwood said, plucking the ridiculously big sunglasses from the collar of his coat and putting them on. "I can't wait to find out what the people have to say about this family."

As you continued walking, you let yourself fall back, feeling the need for a little space to clear your head. Eventually, Lucy slowed down her steps so that you could catch up to her, and interlinked your arm with hers.

"You and George need to go to the local library later. We're hoping that maybe the papers around here provide some more insights than the ones in London."

Your eyes fixated on George, who was walking ahead of you next to Lockwood.

"Do you think maybe you could go with George today?" You leaned closer to Lucy, keeping your voice low so that the boys wouldn't be able to hear what you were saying.

"Is this about last night? What happened? You should have seen George after you left for the bathroom." She shook her head. "Poor boy looked like he'd seen a ghost."

Your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. So you had made him uncomfortable.

"It was cold. I tried to get blankets from the other rooms but there were none. So we - we shared his bed."

Lucy let out a little sound of excitement and squeezed your arm.

"No way! And….. did you kiss?"

You choked. George immediately turned around, throwing you a worried glance but you were too busy trying to get through your coughing fit to notice it.

"All good!", Lucy waved him off and gave you a few strong pats on the back with her other hand.

"I take that as a no?"

You cleared your throat. "Obviously", you hissed. "It's bad enough that I basically forced him to cuddle me." She raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Because there was no space to sleep any other way? It was really narrow", you added, exasperated.

"Maybe you should try the whole 'I'm so cold' thing again at home", Lucy suggested with a chuckle. "I imagine it wouldn't take long until you got your kiss."

"Or a restraining order", you huffed and pulled your arm away from hers. "Can we please just stop talking about this? I am honestly mortified and you're really not helping."

You walked in silence for a few minutes. You had your hands buried in the pockets of your jacket, the morning air still a little chilly. There was a slight breeze as you walked along the road that led down to the village, the fields on either side swaying slightly in the wind.

"Is there a reason you are so vehemently against even thinking about the possibility that he might like you back?"

You could tell from Lucy’s tone that nothing about that question was meant to tease you.

You couldn't look at her, so instead you focused your gaze on a tree that stood lonely amid the fields. “I just can’t … I can’t see it. You know, when I look at you and Lockwood, it’s so… obvious. It’s just not that way with us.”

You could feel your throat close up a little and unzipped your jacket.

“And what if I said, it is that way with you? It’s obvious to me. And I bet if you asked Lockwood, he’d say the same.”

Lucy reached over to squeeze your shoulder. You had to blink away the tears forming in your eyes as she pulled you into her side.

“I wouldn’t be saying it if I wasn’t absolutely sure about it, (name).”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

After getting some breakfast it was time to split up. You hadn’t asked Lucy to switch with you a second time, because you knew it would be futile, and because George seemed to hover near Lockwood the entire time, there also wasn’t a chance to ask him.

And so you found yourself walking through the narrow streets of the village with George, passing house after house and beautifully planted gardens. The smell of the flowers lingered in the air, but you couldn’t quite enjoy it, for there was something else hanging heavy between the two of you.

A part of you wanted to ask him about it, wanted confirmation that he didn't mind, that you hadn't gone too far, but a much bigger part wanted to bury it and simply never acknowledge it happened. Too great was the fear of him saying something that you couldn't bear to hear.

Eventually, the silence felt like it was about to choke you.

„So, what exactly is our plan for today?”, you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

George glanced at his watch. “Catch the train, and visit the library in the next village over. I’m dying to get my hands on some local papers and records. There is something wrong with this family, and we need to find out what that is before tonight. From experience, fighting the dead and the living simultaneously doesn't work out that well”, he added with a little chuckle.

“I want to know more about Genevieve”, you said. “I feel like we almost know nothing about her.”

George nodded. “Just what I was thinking. The archives had awfully little information about her.”

You couldn’t help some of the tension leaving your body at the way he smiled at you. Luckily it seemed like he wasn’t going to hold last night against you.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The train was just as empty as the one you had taken out of London the day prior. George had chosen the seat next to you instead of sitting opposite of you, which meant that you spent almost the entire time staring out of the window. The sitting arrangement invoked memories of the most recent train ride that you had spent sleeping against his shoulder and as much as you tried to think of something else, you couldn’t fight the blush that spread over your cheeks. He didn’t have to see that.

The train station you got off of just a few minutes later looked almost identical to the one where you had boarded the train. The narrow streets and crooked houses with stone walls overgrown with ivy that you walked past made it seem like you didn’t even leave Stoneford, but you figured that was probably because every village around here looked the same.

The library was located in the corner of a small town square, squeezed in between two houses, each with differently coloured window shutters. It looked unassuming, but the elderly lady that you had asked for directions had pointed you there.

A metal plaque let into the stone next to the door indicated you had found the right place. George twisted the knob, and the wooden door opened into a rather small room that was flooded with light from the midday sun shining through the windows next to the door. You passed over the threshold after George, taking in the framed newspaper cutouts hanging on the walls, a little cart in the corner that was stacked so full of books that some would surely fall off in case it was moved, and a hallway at which end you spotted several bookshelves in the shadows.

A bell chimed as George opened the door and again when you closed it behind yourself, and the person who had been typing away at the computer on a desk at the other side of the room leaned over and peeked past the screen. It was a blonde girl roughly your age, maybe a little older, and her neutral expression was quickly replaced with a dazzling smile.

She greeted you as you came up to her desk. "How can I help you?"

George cleared his throat. You glanced over to him and then at the girl, and you could feel yourself shrinking back.

This was gonna go just great.

The girl, who introduced herself as Emily, noticeably perked up when George explained that you were agents from London.

"That's so cool! I barely see any agents around here, you wouldn't believe how boring it is. But then again that's probably a good thing because it means we don't have to deal with many ghost appearances. I don't even know how I would deal with ghosts if I think about it. Well, I wouldn't do it myself obviously, I would call agents like you. Anyways, are you here to research something? I can help you out, I have read just about every book in here."

She beamed at both of you. Or maybe just at George, it was hard to tell. You briefly wondered how she was able to unload all this information on you so quickly without taking a single breath in between sentences.

"We're investigating a haunting at Abbey House. Do you know anything about that?" George adjusted his glasses.

Emily's eyes widened. "Abbey House? Of course, I know that. Everyone around here does. You must be a very capable agency if they called you out of London just for that. What is it like, being an agent? I imagine it must be very frightening at times."

You could tell that George liked her interest in your profession, and had to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes. She seemed sweet enough, but for some reason you found yourself feeling annoyed. Maybe because she talked so much.

Emily led you through the hallway and past some bookshelves to a few desks that had been squeezed into the space between the wall and the last bookshelf.

"Make yourself comfortable, I know just what you need. Give me a few seconds!"

With that, Emily disappeared and you sat alone with George. He pulled out one of the chairs and hung his jacket over the backrest before he sat down.

"Never would have thought we'd find such a well-organised library around here. Nothing better than a librarian that knows their way around."

Your chest tightened a little at his words, and you just made a vague sound of agreement. Then you sat in silence, and you had your eyes fixed on the bookshelf in front of you, pretending to study the selection of books in the different rows. In reality, you just stared into nothingness and if anyone had asked you afterwards, you wouldn't have been able to name even one of the books on display.

Emily returned not long after, balancing a pile of books and newspapers in front of her. You watched as George jumped up to take them from her, and the tight feeling in your chest returned, intensifying as Emily pulled over one of the chairs to sit down in between you and George. You watched as she splayed out the books and newspapers on the table, pointing at each one and giving a brief summary.

You wanted to listen to what she was saying, you really did, but you could feel your attention slipping away, her voice beginning to sound muffled and far away, while you just sat and watched how George clung to every word she was saying.

She pushed a book over to you and you began flipping through the pages absentmindedly, pretending you were looking for something - you didn't even know what you were supposed to be looking for. The words on the page were blurring together, and even after reading the first sentence of the chapter for the fifth time, you still hadn't grasped its meaning. Instead, you found yourself constantly glancing over to where Emily was reading intently, every now and then pointing something out to George, which he would scribble down in the notebook he brought.

You shouldn't have come.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

thank you for reading! feedback is appreciated <3

Part VI

[sour-ggrapess]

𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄 - ❝will you sleep with me?  i know how that sounds i just mean—  i feel safe when you’re there.❞

pjm. fluffy smut. subby jimin

btw i put 3 request in one cuz i really wanna start a series

"yeah?" You responded, peering your head back in the doorframe to see what Jimin wanted as he called your name. His eyes stuck on you, as he had a sad glow in his eyes. "Im sorry, nevermind." You could sense a hint of vulnerability in his voice, making you curious about what was bothering him. "Are you sure everything's okay?" You said it gently, offering your presence as a source of comfort. Stepping back into the room as you pushed the door behind you, You noticed Jimin's hesitance, wondering if he would open up to you. 

 

"Will you sleep with me? I-i know how that sounds... I just feel safe with you next to me."

He said this, looking hopeful, as if he were waiting for you to say yes. "Uhm, yeah, ok, I'll stay." You replied, slightly taken aback by his request but understanding the vulnerability behind it. Jimin was always protective, and you knew he would do anything to make sure you were safe, so why can't you return the favor and just do the bare minimum to put his mind at ease? You pull back the covers and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. His practice is warm and comfy, as it helps you get comfortable as you softly whisper "goodnight." His soft voice whispers it back as you turn over to face the opposite side of the room, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. You drift off to sleep before the dreams take you on a journey through your subconscious mind.

 

light off the walls, casting a warm and comforting glow throughout the room. Soft groans and breaths fill  the air as the weight next to you shifts closer to you, a pair of arms snake around your waist, and the light feel of Jimin's breath against your neck.  

He smacks his lips as he nuzzles up into your backside as his cock rests at the top of your ass , sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but surrender to the intoxicating sensation. His erection grows against your body, from soft and breathy to uncomfortable groans and shifting of his body, causing you to slowly awaken.

Eyes slowly opening as his monas turn into whimpers as he ruts his cock up against you. "Jimin, what the fuck are you doing?" You scoot away and turn to face him , horrified by his actions.  "His eyes open as he looks at you with heavy eyes and an open mouth "Wha-what?" he asked with sleep decorating his words before he looked down to see his cock poking through his pajama pants. "I'm so sorry," he stammers, quickly pulling away and covering himself. "I'm going to get ready to leave," he says, his face flushing with embarrassment. He got off the bed as you thought about how bad you probably made him feel.

He was hot, and maybe you could help him. The thought of you taking his cock in your throat made a wave of slick leak out of your now socked hole and onto your pants. "What if I could help you with your situation down there?" you asked as you looked at his dick poking through the cotton pants  as you took your lip between your teeth. His eyes widened in confusion and shock as he exclaimed, "Huh?" You almost beg, "Let me suck your cock," as you stare at him with round, wide eyes, craving the taste and sensation.  As you crawl to the end, the mattress moves. You maintain eye contact and motion for him to approach. He walked forward as he placed his nicely folded clothes back on the dresser before towering over you with a smug  smile on his face.  "Tell me what you want, baby; tell me how badly you want to touch me," you said as you slid your hand up and down his toned and slim torso. "I want to fuck you so bad that you won't be able to walk straight for days," he whispered in your ear, his voice dripping with desire. "I couldn't stop thinking about you bouncing on my cock the whole time I was next to you." He whined, "I need you to touch me; please touch me." He begged as you pulled his now tight pants down along with his boxers. His hard and red cock twitches with arousal as it fights to stay up.

"Are you ready, baby?" you asked as you mocked him with a whiney voice , knowing that you were in complete control of his pleasure. He despondently nods his head  right before you start to pump his shaft with skilled precision, making him gasp and moan uncontrollably. Your lips meet his tip, sucking hard as if you were trying to drain all the semen out of his balls. His mouth hangs open and his eyes are tightly shut as he gasps for air , overwhelmed by the intense pleasure coursing through his body. His hands turned into fists as he inhaled a sharp breath through his clenched jaw. Releasing his tip from the grips of your mouth with a pop causes him to moan loudly as the boy's hips shutter. 

"Tell me that you're mine while I suck you good." You take half his length into your mouth, feeling his warmth and hardness against your tongue. Your tongue slides along the underside of his shaft as you bob your head up and down on his length. savoring every inch of him as you jerk the rest that won't fit. "I'm all yours, fuufk." He yelps as you lick between his slits, sending shivers down his spine and making him moan in pleasure. "Can I fuck you?" He breathes heavily, his voice hoarse and desperate. "No baby" You get up and push him on the bed, causing his eyes to widen at your action as you climb on top of him, taking control. "I'm going to fuck you, understand?" You assert yourself confidently, a wicked smile playing on your lips as you crash them on his. Saliva seeps as Jimin's tongue fights for dominance against yours. You pull away as you lift up your body and pull down the  tight, now wet sleep short

s, tossing them to the ground along with his pants. "Please, can you fuck me?" he begged as he rubbed his hands along the curves of your ass. "No, baby, you've got to ask nicely to touch me," you replied with a mischievous grin. You plopped down on his cock with a loud smack, causing you both to moan loudly. Loud slaps as you bounce up and down on his member, feeling every inch of his cock inside you. the perfect curve of his manhood hitting the spot you didn't know was there , sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. loud moans spilling from both of your throats as you both reach the pinnacle of ecstasy. "Fuck, can I please touch your boobs?" He pleads with a hoarse voice from not being in use for so long. "Tell me yours," You say as you place your hands on his throat. "Tell me." His eyes shut tight as he exhaled a shaky breath, finally surrendering to your demand. "I'm all yours, yN, all yours; I belong to you." "Good boy".

Tank top now, along with all the other clothes, as your boobs bounce In his face. "Oh my f-fuking god, Jimin, your cock is so big." Your words made his lips quiver, along with his legs. "I'm going "let it out, baby," you say as you bounce sloppier than before, chansing your own orgasm as your excitement builds as his cock twitches inside of you. Hot spurts of smen shoot out, coating your walls as Jimin moans out your name. His hands fly to your ass, making you cum all over him, making it mix with his and pool on his balls. 

 ense pleasure consumes both of you, leaving you breathless and satisfied. you falYoulat on his chest as you both bask in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

"You had no panties on the entire time?"

 ⊹˚. ♡taglist - @chimmy-licious @shescharlie @bangtanattic

© sour-ggrapess | TUMBLR

[sparkedblaze]

My favorite 92sies things 2: Electric Boogaloo

Part 1

Same T/W: violence, cursing, etc

Sarah stop hiding behind that curtain it's see through and also ur gay

Jack fighting the socks

"I'm just not used to whether I stay or whether I go matter to nobody." He says, with an army of children marching at his heels because he wanted to start a strike

"Got no legal cause" "Legal cause!" *point*

"The a l i a s o f J a a c k K e l l l y"

Pulitzer totally not blackmailing the mayor into doing what he wants

Flapflapflapflapflap

CCKCK Hurst

Spot being a hype man for no reason

"My pAl David"

"Whatarewespostadotothabumskissem"

"They're gonna be playin' with my hands alright"

"Nobodyain'tgonlistentousunlesswemakem!"

"TELLEM JACK!"

"I say that what you say is what I say"

Blink hanging off the balcony like a heathen

"Hello newsies! What's new!" *assorted simp noises*

HIGH TIMES HARD TIMES IDK HOW PEOPLE DON'T LOVE THIS SONG IT'S A FUCKING BANGER

Every single newsie sticking their chest out when they sing 'and I stick out my chest!'

Blink and Racer dancing with Medda

Jack dancing with Medda

Snitch's continuity errors

"That's Snider, as in 'snide'? Smile sir"

*Pulls Jack in by his jacket* IT'S SNYDER

"HE'S JUST A CHILD CAN'T YOU SEE THAT RACET R A C K"

David picking up the swing and then several newsies coming up to protect him bc they think of him as a friend now

"JACK you alright?!"

ALL OF THEM PROTECTING JACK WITH EVERYTHING THEY HAVE BC THEY KNOW THAT IF HE'S ARRESTED THE STRIKE COULD VERY WELL END BC THEY AREN'T SURE PEOPLE WILL CONTINUE WITHOUT HIM

KID BLINK TACKLING A FUCKING COP

ACAB BABYYY

Davey fighting to try and help Jack

"On the grounds of Brooklyn, your Honor."

Everyone dying laughing at that

Racer's 'old man trying to read a fast food menu look'

"We ain't got five bucks We don't even got five cents"

"How bout I roll ya for it? Double or nothin'?"

Dying laughing again

"HEY COWBOY NICE SHINA" ckckckckcckl

David's look when Denton tells Jack that the papers didn't print the story

David's utter disappointment when he finds out the truth about Jack and his family

"Remember Snyder? Remember me and Teddy Roosevelt and the carriage? Remember Roosevelt and the carriage?!"

"So ordered" "NO"

"Whaddya mean it never happened you were there?!"

Denton looking crushed when David finds out he's being transferred

Les stuffing his face, not giving a single fuck about what Denton is talking about. This kid has 0 chill and I love him

David crumbling the story before Denton's even gone

Les: *sees David throw a paper on the table* Les: Perfect I needed something to wrap my mf sandwich in

No one noticing the very visible David riding on the back of the carriage

"Sometimes I read 'em"

"I tell this city how to vote" *thinks to livesies 'And guess what he got elected.'* U sure bout that buddy?

Poke Pokepokepoke

"I must have you scared pretty bad old man."

The guy who gets thrown from the carriage

The very intimate moment they have when Jack presses David against the wall

"You don't know nothin' about jail"

"Guess what I done to his sauerkraut"

Stop the World! No more papes!

That redhead who I always think of as Albert

"Hey-heyhey Race C'mere Tell me I'm just seein' things Just tell me I'm seein' things-"

Every. Single. Reaction. To. Jack. Scabbing.

Blink's anger. Mush's desperation. Race's indignation.

SPOT'S ANGER. HAVING TO LITERALLY BE PULLED AWAY BECAUSE HE PUT HIMSELF AND HIS BOYS ON THE LINE FOR HIM AND HE FUCKING SCABBED.

"YOU'RE A LIAR." and the entire following statement

David Moscow's curls He's such a cutie

"WE DON'T NEED YOU"

DAVID ALMOST GETTING VIOLENT FOR THE FIRST TIME, BUT IT'S ONLY AFTER HE LOOKS AT THE OTHERS. HE'S TRYING TO GET VIOLENT ON THEIR BEHALF. BECAUSE THEY CAN'T DO IT THEMSELVES. IT'S TERRIFYING AND I LOVE IT

"Seize the day huh Jack?!" "He's foolin' em!" the desperation in Les's voice to believe this breaks my heart every time 😭

David: *climbs through window* David: *slams it closed* David: *walks in front of open window*

YOU'RE GAY AND DRAMATIC WE GET IT DAVID

"Are you gonna be requiring anything else this evening? No? Ah... tsk tsk."

"We're gonna go fix your pal Davey Fix him so he can't walk" *Morris disappointed head shakes* "Shut up"

Les swordfighting behind Sarah without a care in the world

Les taking roughly eight years to realize what's happening with Sarah

SARAH PUNCHING MORRIS

David throwing his hat off before trying to beat up the Delanceys

Morris's dumb little laugh😭

"Remember Crutchy?" *bonk*

"I can't be somethin' I ain't" "A scab?" "No, smart"

At least he knows

"I don't write anything I don't mean."

"But our man Denton-" "But I think our man Denton. Has something more important to do. I mean, he's gonna be an ace war correspondent. Right Denton?"

THE SASS

I LOVE DAVID JACOBS

WHOEVER DECIDED TO LEAVE LES ALONE WITH THE CAMERA WITHOUT SUPERVISION

Denton teaching David how to typeset

Once and For All

The entire thing

Can anyone explain to me how the printing press works?

Mush coming to the window twice. My mans is dedicated.

"Awfully nice of Mr. Pulitzer to let us use his press"

Boots throwing the papers from the roof into a square with like four kids

THERE'S MY LIL RAT BOY AGAIN HIIIII

"Hey kid. Can you read?"

The newsies (Skittery, Pie Eater, and someone else) taking their hats off when a lady opens the door

DIS-GRACE-FUL DENTY (read: Roosevelt and Denton have absolutely.... *clears throat* and that's his nickname for him)

"C'mon Jack" "Have hope Jack"

"When the circulation bell starts ringin', will we hear it?" "Nah"

Max Casella

Pap (this time with hat)

"B R O O K L Y N"

We aynt slavs

Not-Albert standing on the statue

Jack carrying Les on his shoulders

Bumlets carrying Boots on theirs

"It's like the end of the world- OhdearIdidn'tsaythat"

"Extrey extrey Joe Read all about it"

"Whatdoesthatmakeyou?"

"The walkin mouth" David: 😒

*Jack opens windows* Pulitzer: lalalalalalalala I can't hear you

DAVID MOSCOW'S EYES

"Well, we only used the best, Joe."

"We beat 'em" "We beat 'em!!"

Gio and Skittery spit-shaking

Skittery: Hiya Weas 😜

The newsies death glaring Denton when he tries to stop them from hiding Jack

"Make friends with the rats Share whatcha got in common" ^^

WHY DOES ROOSEVELT LOOK LIKE AN ANIMATRONIC?!

Race looks like he calls Roosevelt daddy and I can't stop seeing it someone help

Everyone pretending to be okay with Jack leaving, further proving that the newsies are not okay emotionally

The Jacobs crying

Blush leaning against the streetlight together

Them using the same sound byte of the little redhead from the beginning while David is buying his papes

"Attaboy Davey"

Jack's return

"HE'S BACK!"

Jack putting his hat on Les

"How's the headline today?" "Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes"

David's first spit-shake

Our little boy is all grown up

[keis-slut]

Together

s. todoroki

chapter ii. - Lady Wood

now playing Lady Wood by Tove Lo

-

"I don't care if it's all true,

I want you hanging with me"

I want to try and talk to Todoroki today.

He seems like he needs it.

I've heard a lot about him and his past, from Midoriya, and hearing about all of it I knew he needed someone to trust.

I wanted to be that person, for some reason.

"his mother basically went crazy about how his left side was identical to his father, and she couldn't handle it. she poured boiling water over the left side of his face, causing that scar. his traumatizing childhood is the reason he isn't very open to the rest of us, he doesn't interact much"

Midoriyas voice rang through my head as he explained a bit of Todorokis background to me, to which I then told Midoriya that Todoroki needed someone to make that move first if he couldn't do it himself.

Class was then dismissed, pulling me away from my thoughts as I got up from my desk. I grab my bag and look up, seeing Todoroki stand up quickly and walk out the door.

Damn it, he's fast.

I make my way around my desk, before a voice pulls me to a hault.

"y/n! you said you'd wait this time!" Ashido yells out, causing me to turn and face her.

"oh! right, sorry, Ashido" I say, rubbing the back of my neck.

"you want to come with me and Uraraka to the mall? I don't really feel like going straight to the dorms today" Ashido asks, walking up to me with a smile.

Todoroki.

"I-I dont-"

"please, y/n!? it'll be fun, I promise!" She begs grabbing my wrists, causing me to giggle slightly.

"o-okay, okay fine! could we go back so I could just change my clothes though? then I promise I'll come" I suggest, and she nods aggressively.

We make our way back to the dorms together, as my thoughts remind me of Todoroki once again.

Maybe I can catch him later?

Hopefully.

Ashido opens the door to the building, and I hold it for Uraraka behind me.

They decide to follow me to their dorms as they might as well change too.

I walk into my room and close the door behind me, swinging my bag onto my bed and pulling off my shoes.

I remove most of my uniform, eventually picking out an outfit to put on.

I pull a black tank top over my head, then a pair of black high-waisted jean shorts up my legs. I push my hair out of my face as I buckle up the jeans, then grabbing black thigh-high socks to pull over my legs afterwards. Then I walk over to my secret pair of platform boots, putting them on as they go as high as just below my knee, and I buckle them up quickly.

I sit up and walk over to the mirror against my wall, then realizing the top half of my body seemed a bit too exposed.

Then there was a abrupt knock at my door.

"y/n! you done yet?" Ashido yells from the outside of my dorm.

I walk over to my door and open it, revealing Ashido and Uraraka in different outfits.

Ashido had on a teal sweater and a pair of grey jean shorts, partnered with black sneakers and knee-high white socks. Uraraka had on a simple black tank top and her training outfit pants with a pair of white sneakers.

"hey, guys. i'm almost done" I say, opening the door for them to come in.

Uraraka widens her eyes as she notices my outfit.

"woah, y/n! I didn't know you dressed like that! what style" She purrs a compliment as she walks into my room.

"thank you! it's not done yet though" I chuckle, walking over to one of my drawers and pulling out see-through cardigan to throw over my shoulders.

"your outfit is so cute! let's go now!" Ashido hurries me as I struggle to pull on my cardigan begore she grabs my arm.

We walk out of my room as I shut my door behind me, then making our way to the common area. I look around to see a few students hanging around.

Sero and Kirishima were on the couch as Iida was yelling at them to take their feet off, while Midoriya was trying to calm him down. Todoroki was sitting silently next to Kirishima, as his focus then turns to us as we walk in the room. I see him blink a few times as he stares at me, causing me to then avert my gaze to the floor as I play with the end of my cardigan.

Maybe this outfit is too much?

"hey, shitface, you look like you just restarted your emo phase" Bakugo blurts as he walks up to me and kicks at my boots. I turn and kick him harshly against the leg, pushing him away and crossing my arms.

"bold of you to assume I ever came out of that phase, blasty boy" I sass back, before feeling a tug on my arm. I'm then pulled away from Bakugo and out of the building by Ashido, assuming we were now heading to the mall.

Please let this be quick,

I want to talk to Todoroki.

And it was quick, actually.

I had fun, and time flies when you're having fun.

Eventually we did make it back to the alliance, Ashido now tired out from the running around and shopping.

She yawned next to me as we made it back to dorms quite a bit later than sunset, and walked up the steps, opening the door.

I hurriedly pushed her inside, still remembering why I wanted to get back as quick as possible in the first place.

Where is Todoroki?

I walk inside the room as the door shuts behind Uraraka, then noticing Midoriya and Todoroki sitting on the couch together.

"i'll leave you to it, y/n. I know what you want to do" Ashido smirks up at me.

My face heats up and I jump back a bit.

"what are you-?"

"by the way you were talking about him earlier, I figured that's why you were rushing to get back. You were obsessed with explaining to me why he needed a good friend, and i'm suspecting you want to be that person" She states, hands on her hips.

"y-yeah, I guess" I mumble, pushing my hair away from my face.

"well, then! go on!" She pushes me along, causing me to bump into one of the couches.

"A-Ashido!" I yell, catching Midoriya and Todorokis attention.

Ashido leans towards my ear and cups her hand around it.

"I'll call Midoriya over so you have your Todoroki moment. just talk to him" Ashido whispers, before pulling away and yelling Midoriyas name.

I watch as Midoriya gets up and walks towards Ashido, and she winks at me.

I look over at Todoroki as he stares towards Midoriya sadly while he leaves.

He hates being lonely.

I sigh heavily and walk over to Todoroki.

"h-hey. can I sit?" I mentally curse at myself for stuttering as I stare awkwardly down at Todoroki.

"okay" He says simply as he scoots over slightly.

I give him a small smile before sitting down and feeling my heart flutter a bit as he gives me his attention. We sit for a few awkward seconds before I decide to just speak up.

"are you okay?" I ask him, worriedly looking up at his bored expression.

He gives me a questionable look before looking down and sighing.

I gulp, worried I had said the wrong thing.

"s-sorry if that sounded weird...i-its just-"

He looks back up at me quickly before tilting his head and furrowing his brows.

Is he mad?

No, he's just unsure, y/n.

It's difficult for him to open up, I shouldn't believe this would be easy.

"it's just what?" He asks, rather curious.

I stare into his eyes as he waits for my response. I sigh lightly and fix my cardigan over my shoulders.

"T-Todoroki, you always seem so lonely. I wanted to know if you were okay because I know how it feels to be alone, and I don't want that for you" I explain bluntly, and he blinks out of confusion.

"Midoriya told me why you're a bit more...distant than everyone else and I couldn't help but feel compassion" I say moving a bit closer to him, noticing as he eases up a bit at my presence.

"It's horrible what you went through, and I just figured if you had trouble getting close to someone by yourself because of the trauma, why not have someone else make the effort for you, just to help guide you, and give you someone to trust. So, I wanted to give it a try" I sigh, leaning back against the couch feeling a bit nervous for his response, but glad I finally was able to let it out. I look down and pull my cardigan to cover my body, waiting for Todoroki to reply.

"I don't see why Midoriya had the need to share my personal information..." Todoroki huffs, causing me to look up to his sad eyes. My heart aches with guilt for even asking Midoriya about it if Todoroki didn't want the information to spread in the first place, and because of the way Todoroki responded.

But then he looks up at me kindly.

"but...at least he didn't share it to someone who's a complete asshole" He says, the side of his lip being pulled upwards slightly.

Suddenly, my heart didnt ache with guilt, but instead with devotion.

I sit up and look into Todorokis lonely, mismatching eyes.

"you just need someone to trust, and I volunteered" I say, with a slight chuckle and a grin. Todorokis cheeks gleam a light pink, but he still keeps his composure.

"I have to admit, it is hard to be around so many people, and not be able to open up...just because I don't know how, and i've been taught to stay away" Todoroki confesses, looking to the floor. I sit up straight and sigh heavily.

"well, if you'd let me, i'll help. i'll be someone you can trust, knowing you need that, since your past shouldn't define you, even though it has taken a toll on you. but that doesn't matter to me, and if you need someone, know that you can come to me. and we can work on you opening up-"

He looks up at me eagerly, his eyes starting to slightly sparkle with hope.

"-together"

I finish, smiling up at him kindly.

Suddenly, I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket, causing me to jump, and then feel a warm hand on my leg.

I look down to a hand on my thigh, then look up at Todoroki.

"s-sorry, you jumped" He stutters, and I hum lightly, grabbing my phone from my back pocket as he removes his hand.

My phone turns on as I see a message from Ashido.

Ass-id Girl💞👽                          10:01pm

stop fucking icyhot and get to your dorm already!

I shut my phone off and place it on the couch, a small blush crawling on my cheeks as I roll my eyes playfully.

I look up to a spaced out Todoroki, and smile lightly to myself.

"so, let's hang out tomorrow? if you're okay with that...it's just getting a bit late now" I say, catching Todorokis attention as he looks over at me.

"okay" He gently smiles at me, and I excitedly return the gesture.

"good. hanging out would be fun"

Todoroki POV

I'm actually glad she came to me first, being that id make a terrifyingly horrible approach if I went to her. Even if her intention was to become close to me, I might have scared her off.

Or maybe that's just my fear.

The way she spoke to me, it made me feel as if I could trust her, though.

She told me she wanted to do this, and she wanted me to trust her to be there for me.

I want to, but it will be difficult opening up, despite the aching need to do so.

I just don't know how.

But she said she would help, and wanted to hang out with me tomorrow.

And I like the thought of hanging out with her too.

"I want you, I want you hanging with me"

next part, 4

[weezeryuri]

i want to put him in a sock and then swing it against the wall as hard as i possibly can

[agentsketchbook]

2-5-23 Pigeon's Nest

Ding

Dong

Leaning on the tips of his toes, Hansa peered up into the peephole of the door before him, as if there was any chance for him to view the interior through such a myopic piece of glass curved the wrong direction. He bent sideways, looking at the orange glow of lights inside the familiar house. Hansa wasn’t known for his patience or ability to sit still, fidgeting with his keychain in his pocket, thumbing over the plastic grooves of the miniature figure’s coif. He rocked on the soles of his shoes, back and forth for what seemed like forever before he decided he’d waited too long.

Ding Dong

Knock Knock

Pressing his ear to the door, he could make out some sounds. So there was life after all. There was a distant and muffled shout and footsteps advancing. Hansa stepped backwards from being flush with the door, allowing a tall slender gentleman he knew well to swing it open, light hitting Hansa’s face and warming his complexion as he did so. 

“Oh, it's Hansa. Honey, it's only Hansa!” He crowed behind him. 

A female voice called out from what he believed to be the kitchen, judging by his memory. “I heard you the first time, don’t make him wait outside, come in!”

“Thanks for letting me come over, Mr. Wing. And Mrs. Wing.” Hansa slipped his thumb under the heel of his left shoe with his right hand, familiar with the drill of entering the Wing household with respect to the homeowner’s boundaries. He carried his scuffed once-upon-a-time white shoes to the closet next to the doorway, placing them in an empty spot on the ground. He gazed at a particularly large pair of sky blue canvas shoes. They look like they’d hardly ever seen the outside of the confines of the closet. Hansa didn’t recognize this pair, but it was starkly clear they belonged to Pigeon Wing. Or at least, once upon a time. Who would wear them now? Anybody? “Hansa, you want something to drink? Water? Juice? We have Coka!” 

He snapped out of his thoughts, turning to face Mrs. Wing. “Oh uh, no thank you, thank you for asking.”

“I get you some juice. Wait here.”

Before Hansa could even protest, she was scampering down the hallway to fetch the young man a drink. He couldn’t recall ever entering this house and leaving without something in his stomach. The hospitality he received from the Wing family was always thrust upon him. Perhaps a little forceful, but always well intentioned. Hansa took it no matter what he was feeling. 

The newly empty nested mother returned to Hansa with a tall glass of orange juice, placing it in his open palm. 

“Here, drink it up. You’re so short- like me, you need to grow,” she fussed. “You want something else?”

“Aha, no thank you, Mrs. Wing. I just wanted to go up to um. You know. Pigeon’s room. I-I called earlier and Mr. Wing told me it was alright to take anything home with me that I wanted from him.”

Mrs. Wing’s face changed at the mention of her late son. A sadness clouded her eyes, lips pressing together to contain it. 

“I don’t remember that, he not tell me. You can go, but if you need something, tell me, okay? I get it for you, anything.” 

Even with the painful reality, she managed to compose herself and maintain her gracious host persona for guests. Hansa had been over countless times before, and yet, she never waivered or let her guard down around him. He could sense a kind distance she’d kept between him and her through the cordiality. Despite this impersonal care, he’d return the pleasantry. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Wing!” Hansa plodded up the hard wooden stairs that creaked beneath his socked feet. He made a turn into the second door down to the left, putting his palm to the cool metal handle, ice cold glass in his other hand.

It was so dark. The room was nearly black, save for the dusk fading in through the window past the white curtains. Hansa’s free hand planted against the wall, searching for a switch he’d never had to turn on before. Every time he was over, Pigeon was leading the way and lighting the room. That, or he had it on ready for him. 

To his surprise, the room was very neatly laid out. Pigeon’s bed was made, there were no clothes strewn on the floor or stray papers carefully set up in little project piles, and his desk was free of empty bottles of Coka Co or half eaten bowls of ramen noodles. There was, however, an assortment of boxes by the bed full of belongings. Clothing, books, and… more books. A lot of books, actually. Several of these boxes were filled with notebooks as well as published titles. They were all neatly placed in the cardboard and plastic bins with care.

His parents must have tidied up the young man’s living space some time after the news he’d never come home. That he’d gone missing. Police reported to the Wing residence that their son had become a casualty in his involvement with a drug operation and that his body had gone missing from the morgue he was taken to. Hansa knew the truth a little further than this, but he would have to stick to the authority’s story. How heartbreaking it was to not only feel involved in the passing of their baby boy, but to keep from them the knowledge where his body was safely buried. 

It felt almost dirty to be in their home, in their son’s room, going through his belongings with the intent of walking away with them. Hansa pushed that feeling down as deep as he could. It wasn’t helping him to feel so gravely guilty. He just wanted to get in and get out without causing pain or feeling pain. He was already failing, however, as a dull aching began in his throat and the middle of his face from the nasal cavity out the eyes. Emotion was filling his face and chest quickly at these thoughts. 

He took a sip of the sweet orange juice in his hand. Mrs. Wing always freshly squeezed it from the few trees they grew out in the backyard. As he approached Pigeon’s desk to set the glass down, he could see the foggy silhouettes of them through the curtains. There was no wind to breathe between their leaves, making them appear still, as though they were frozen in a moment in time. In the corner of Hansa’s eye, the alarm clock on the bedside dresser ticked, proving that time was indeed moving on without him. He made a mental note that he was intruding on the bereaved couple’s evening, inspiring him to move towards the boxes and get started. He pulled his face up with a sniff, furrowing his brow and directing his focus to the boxes. 

He gave a glance to the ones with clothing, acutely aware that they were too big to be of any use to him or anyone he knew. Sunshine was much too massive to fit in the clothes of any of his loved ones, even if Pigeon was a giant too. Blackery was too bulked up to wear the gaunt Wing’s garments. Even still, Hansa picked up the soft button up on the top of the pile, holding it up by the shoulders as though to prop his friend up before him. Many a time, Hansa would be too proud to wear a jacket out. Hell, even long sleeves. And every time, Pigeon would hand the shivering young man whatever shirt he was wearing over his T-shirt the moment he could hear chattering teeth. 

Unlike those times, the shirt in his hands was not warmed and fragrant with body warmth and cozy lived in cotton. He held it close to his chest and gave it an inhale, taking note of the empty room temperature and sterile smell of detergent. Along with organizing Pigeon’s space and things, his folks have appeared to do whatever laundry he had not gotten around to.

A deep inhale and sigh out of his chest made Hansa sink to the floor, sitting in the middle of the boxes with his legs crossed. He arrived in his usual tank top and jeans, still feeling the chill of the evening outside from waiting to be let in. The warmth of the house did start to tingle his skin, but wasn’t doing enough. An arm slipped through the oversized sleeve, then another until Hansa was swimming in his best friend’s shirt. He scrunched the sleeves up his arms to his elbows for use of his hands. Owning the button up simply didn’t give the same feeling as borrowing it. Still, Hansa got the only thing he really wanted from the box of clothes. 

Moving onto the other boxes, he peeked into the ones full of notebooks of all sorts. He began to pull them out. Arranging them around him in piles similar to how Wing would lay out his homework on the carpet around himself as Hansa crashed on his bed, keeping him company and accountable for his concentration. He had composition books, spiral notebooks, planners of every shape and size, and itty bitty memo books. Some were empty and never touched, but the majority were filled, their pages fanning out from use. Most peculiar was a little wooden keepsake box full of tiny keys, far too small to fit any door he knew of.

Hansa thumbed through the pages of a small thick book, the soft leather cover bowing in his hand and thin pages gently brushing his fingertips as his eyes scanned the contents. He looked to the plastic bins and boxes surrounding him, noting how every single book must have been filled with Pigeon’s neat and tiny handwriting. It differed greatly from Hansa’s large and scrawled characters, all joined in the wrong places and scorned by all of his past teachers. He didn’t have any current professors to disappoint or irritate with his writing ability, but he thought of Pigeon's excited conversations about his creative writing course, his gripes about the stuffy professor in his English course, and so forth. 

He knew Pigeon had a knack for writing and stories, but his towering friend would never share his work. It didn’t bother Hansa as much as it could have. After all, he didn’t want to step on his toes and make the already skittish Wing uncomfortable. He always had his head in the clouds, however, and was curious as to what he saw from up there with his eyes in the sky. Now that he was really up there, he could not ask. Hansa looked to the books surrounding him instead to tell his truth. They were filled up page to page with poetry, his thoughts, his feelings. These books told of his love for life, and his fears, his dread. He had an eye for the beauty in things as dark as death, and it made Hansa understand how Pigeon could stay so melancholy at baseline.

One thing that caught his attention was a series of notebooks with locks on them, about the size of a Bible. This made the box of tiny little keys that Hansa produced make a lot more sense. Each of the notebooks had different doodles in ballpoint pen, stickers, and collaged scraps of paper on the outside covers and backs. Every one sported its own color and style. He looked through them, rubbing his palms and fingertips over them, taking in the texture and thinking of how well loved they were. He could even see the ruffled up edges of the pages, clearly frequented as opposed to the impeccable neatness of the brand new notebooks pigeon never used. 

Hansa picked up one of fourteen secured notebooks, inspecting the lock and passively prying at the edges with his fingers, testing their strength. No dice. “No duh,” he thought. It wasn’t just for show. He looked at the box of keys, noting that there were multiple of the same key, two to a small coiled ring about half an inch wide. 

He picked up a key and flipped it over, closely observing the ridges on the side before trying it on the lock of a notebook. With a click, the mechanism released, spilling forth Pigeon Wing’s pages to the middle, allowing Hansa to drink in the sight of them. 

His eyes darted across the spread of words, skimming them for an inkling as to why they were guarded so closely. It seemed to him that Wing was writing about his feelings for someone. Through the thickness of his chest and throat, he chuckled to an absent Pigeon, “You sly thing, I didn’t think you had it in you…” He picked up that it was about a certain “him,” and found himself slowing down to read through. Was this really what he was seeing? These were intimate feelings. More than just amicable, and even more than describing a crush. There was a heaviness that pooled in Hansa’s heart as he absorbed the text. Pigeon felt things so strongly that he could compete with a reader like Sunshine for the title of most emotional. However, Hansa was carrying the burden of feeling for the both of them. 

He never knew Pigeon felt so strongly for another man, let alone another person. Hansa reminisced and realized his friend had never once mentioned a girl in his life outside of interacting with family. Hansa used to egg Pigeon on about whether or not he was interested in someone special, and even played games such as asking who in Molly’s gang he would see himself with. Pigeon didn’t find kiss marry kill very stimulating, so it was a curiosity that remained unsated.

Hansa’s eyes scanned the finely written text, wondering if he should even be reading something so personal and intimate. He continued regardless, until his eyes froze on a name. 

His name.

Was that right? 

He read the following lines closely and with a careful cognizance. 

“I just wish I could do something about how I feel about Hansa. He has never once left my side, and maybe that’s the problem. I’m always feeling so vulnerable near him, and it feels good to let myself be soft and loosen up around him. I feel like I can be myself, except for the matter of telling him how strongly in love with him I am. It’s overwhelming at times. And other times, it feels like we’ve been married for decades. I’ve never wanted to spend the rest of my life with someone else, but I could see myself growing old with him. It’s a fact that he is so dedicated to caring for his mother. Nobody could deny it. I have no doubt in my head, as rose tinted as it may be, that he would do the same to care for me if I ever needed it one day. I would take care of him until my dying days if the roles were reversed.”

Hansa felt tears pushing out from the intense numb stinging of his face as he read on.

“I want to do what he does for me. To encourage him to follow his dreams and pursuits. He’s such a gorgeous and talented illustrator, to add. Sakana may be the resident artist in the gang, but I think Hansa is the best. His drawings for my writing are my favorite. Even if I don’t let him read it, he always draws the perfect thing for it. He’s perfect. So passionate about what he cares about, in fact. I hope he feels passionate about me as well.” 

The next line whiplashed his heart, nearly pulling the tears back into his skull as the sultry words echoed loudly in his head. Perhaps a little too personal to be reading in Mr. and Mrs. Wing’s all too squeaky clean home. He felt like he’d opened Pandora's box, or blared a siren in the middle of the silent suburb. He hurriedly joined the halves of the book back together, latching the lock to its original position. Hansa was unclear about whether or not to continue, but he decided now and here was neither the time nor the place to do so. 

His face flushed at the confession. Had he really been this dense as not to notice how strongly Wing felt before? He knew Pigeon would always cling to him, wallflower that he was. He knew he would confide in him and lean on his shoulder when times were rough for him at home. And he certainly knew that Pigeon was a fan of passionate works, always mentioning the next romance novels he’d move onto. Maybe Hansa should have understood sooner, despite it being a secret guarded by a series of locks and keys. 

He wiped his tears with the sleeve of the massive shirt he donned upon him and took in a deep breath, recollecting himself and clearing his head. Hansa glanced at the alarm clock through blurry eyes, shocked at how much time flew by. 10:01 PM, it read. He had to get going, he thought. He turned his head to all the boxes with a determination to move them all into his car. 

Creeeaaak…

The yellow rose whipped his head to look at the open door, seeing Mrs. Wing peeking in.

“Are you okay in here?” She asked in a voice softer than her usually high volume. 

She stepped into the room and Hansa stood up, giving a sniffle before replying.

“I’m fine. I think I’m ready to go, I just need to take…” Hansa gestured to the books strewn across the floor and the boxes they lived in. “all of these back with me.” 

“Okay, okay.” Her head nodded, eyes fixed on the books with a worried distance. “You need help? I help you.” 

“Oh um… Don’t worry about it, I got it. I just need to take a few trips and I’ll be out of your coif.”

“Nooo. I help you. Okay?” Their eyes met and he could see the sincerity in them, pleading for him to allow her to help. His face softened to match hers, and he sighed. 

“Okay.” 

[britswriting]

Devotion (9)

Devotion Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

*Leighton's POV*

I was really starting to hate therapy. Every time I left I felt more shitty than when I walked in.

I knew Colby and I were both in the wrong, but that didn't make it sting any less to realize everything I was so desperately grasping onto was gone within one argument.

A week and a half without Colby has been a nightmare.

Gemma was becoming very moody since Colby's made no contact, his empty side of the bed and lack of clothes on the floor was a daily reminder that I had once again fucked up. I had lost him again, and it was no one's fault but my own.

"Mommy!" Gemma squealed, running into the kitchen.

"Woah! Slow down bug!" I called out, flashbacks of Gemma slipping in her socks playing in my head as she crashed into my legs. "Hi lovebug. How was your dads'?" I questioned, grunting as I picked her up to cuddle her.

"Fun! I pway with Zara" She grinned, swinging her legs back and forth when I had sat her on the counter.

"Yeah? Daddy told me Auntie Penny was gonna be there?" I asked, Gemma nodding as I grabbed my baking bowl and recipe.

"Auntie Penny say I go.. go to skwool soon!" Gemma exclaimed, messing with the baking bowl, letting it rattle against the counter.

"Mhm. Next year lovebug"

"No more rolls?" She asked with a saddened tone.

"Do you like tumbling?" I questioned, surprised by her shown emotion about leaving.

We put her into tumbling to get her around more kids her age, and to give her something fun to do twice a week; I never expected her to grow attached.

"Yeahhh! Me an.. an.. Elle pway dare!"

I smiled at the mention of her friend, dragging more of the ingredients over to the island when Aaliyah walked into the kitchen, "You look like you've got hit by a truck" I snickered, Aaliyah huffed as she sat on the barstool.

"You couldn't have picked a better baby daddy? I mean honestly Leigh. That man drives me up a wall" She groaned, my eyes glancing towards Gemma who was in her own little world.

"Why, what did he do?"

The second the elongated sigh left Aaliyah's lips I knew I was in for it.

"Your loser of an ex had the fu- annoying audacity to ask why I was getting Gemma; not you" She glared, "Like does he not understand that this sh- ish is hard?! I mean, dam- dang Leighton; how do you do this?!"

"I come home and rant to my fiancé; oh wait-" I half joked, my head cocked to the side, Aaliyah letting a snicker leave her lips as she shook her head. "Too soon?" I asked, Aaliyah nodding.

"Way too soon"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I don't got my ish together. I mean, look at me; I'm in the same spot I was five years ago" I passed a weak smile, Aaliyah's frown making me turn my attention to Gemma.

"Want help momma bake?" I asked, Gemma nodding as she squeezed the bag of chocolate chips. "Hey, careful bug" I giggled, slipping the hair tie off my wrist, wrapping Gemma's hair out of her face. "I love you G" I murmured, placing a smooch on her cheek, smiling at my toddler's giggle as she wiped the kiss off. Gasping, I exclaimed, "Did you just wipe off mommy's love?!" Making her quickly shake her head, giggling to herself. "I think you did! That was very mean" I fake pouted, Gemma shifting on the counter to turn around, my hands instinctively reaching out to protect her from slightly wobbling.

"No wipe kisses!"

"Did too!" I teased, pouting.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes you did! I saw you!" I giggled, peppering her face in kisses; listening to her squeal.

"Mommy!"

"Gemmmma!" I mocked, tickling her carefully, keeping an eye on how close she was to the edge, my hand wrapped around her back as she wiggled.

I let up, Gemma panting as I maneuvered around the counter.

"Lay Lay no help me!" Gemma whined, Aaliyah grinning as she reached over the counter, sliding Gemma over to her, the toddler laughing when Aaliyah copied my actions.

"No! No kisses!"

"Yes kisses! Lay Lay loves Gem soooooo much! Do you love me?"

"Wove Lay Lay!"

"You do?!" she gasped, Gemma grinning which made my heart burst into a puddle of happiness.

"YESSSSS!"

"Good; I love you too" Aaliyah spoke triumphally, my daughter and best friend giggling to themselves.

Gemma helped me make banana bread, Aaliyah filming us, showing me the video she got of Gemma smushing the banana's.

"Look at her face!" Aaliyah cackled. I swear tears were rolling down her cheeks as she replayed it, Gemma's face of disgust on loop.

Once the bread had cooled off, I cut Gemma a slice, smothering butter onto it and sliding it over to the greedy toddler, awaiting approval.

"Mommy a good baker?" I asked, becoming impatient as she took her first bite.

"I elp!" Gemma corrected, a smile on my face.

"You did. So proud of you baby. Is it good?" I asked, Gemma nodding as she chewed with her mouth open, "Gemma, mouth closed" I softly reprimanded, hating whenever people did that.

"Coco tie?" She asked, gulping down her bread.

"Uh.. maybe?" I stuttered, not wanting to lie to her, but also not wanting to give her false hope. "I don't know when he's coming back bug, and hey, if it really is that good, maybe we'll just eat it all and not give any to Coco!" I teased, Gemma giggling as she nodded.

"Give Papa?"

"We can give some to Papa" I nodded, plucking a piece of the bread off the uncut loaf.

"See Papa mommy?"

"Mhm, later baby"

"Go now!"

"We've gotta get you ready bug" I reminded, passing Gemma her glass of milk.

"Sweepover wif Papa!" She cheered and I couldn't help but let a bittersweet feeling wash over me.

She was soon to be four way too fast, and every day her speech improved, or her actions showed maturity; a piece of me cried at night.

My baby was growing up way too fast, and I couldn't stop it.

"I smell banana bread!" Aaliyah sang, walking into the kitchen. "Did the banana monkey make banana bread?" Aaliyah asked Gemma, turning the dish of uncut bread towards her.

"Yesss! With Momma!"

"Your momma can't bake! Did you watch her?" Aaliyah teased, my eyes narrowing towards my best friend.

"I elp!"

"Gemma was a big help" I agreed, Aaliyah eyeing us like she didn't believe it, taking a fork and slicing off the edge.

"There is a knife right there you animal!" I pointed, chuckling at her chaos.

"Oh no, not your precious bread! How dare we have to eat more and make it even?!" She dramatized, stuffing the fork in her mouth. "Mm" She moaned, chewing, "Not bad" she spoke with her mouth full, my eyes glancing away. "You did good Gemma"

"Gemma, what do you say?" I reminded her, my daughter was too busy stuffing her face to acknowledge the compliment.

"Frank you!" She exclaimed, crumbling slipping past her lips as her cheeks puffed out.

"Gemma! Smaller bites!" I quickly reminded her, afraid of her choking.

Once her plate was clean, she ran off to the bathroom, leaving me to clean up. I covered the bread to keep it fresh, Aaliyah placing the dishes in the sink.

"Hey, are you coming with me to my parents tonight? Gemma and I are staying over for the night" I questioned, turning on the tap to start cleaning up.

"Why are you going over there?" She questioned, taking the rag from me to wipe down the counter.

"I'm honestly tired of being in the apartment. Every room I walk into is laced with Colby, and it fucking sucks. He won't text me back and his hearing is tomorrow, so who knows if he'll even show. I just.. I'm fucking tired of walking into my room, climbing into our bed, and being alone."

"I'm sorry Leigh" Aaliyah frowned, abandoning the rag on the counter, wrapping me in a hug.

"Don't hug me too long or I'll cry" I warned, my arms wrapping around her in return, Aaliyah softly squeezing me.

"It's going to be okay. You got through it with Gemma, you'll get through it with this one" She smiled, her hand dropping down to my belly, reminding me that I was in fact pregnant, and lost everything.

"I just.." I sighed, my head falling against her shoulder, "I don't understand.. how he could leave? Leaving me, I get. It's fine, it's whatever.. but our baby? Gemma? How could he just walk out? I.. I told him about the bump.. and he left?" I sniffled.

"I don't know Leighton. I mean, he's clearly going through something. I mean, this isn't Colby. We both know that. You've both got your shit, I've got my own shit.. we're all just trying to figure it out and sometimes that means leaving for a while and coming back. You of all people should know that"

I lifted my head from her shoulder, backing up against the counter, my lips rolling in as I tried to collect my thoughts.

"I just.." My finger spun the anxiety ring absentmindedly, Aaliyah's eyes glancing down towards my hand and then back at my eyes; "I'm so fucking tired. I mean.. what does he even want? He keeps saying this isn't what he wanted, yet he won't tell me what he wants! I get he wants.. wants more.. but of what? He acts like I'm holding him back from the life he wanted, but if that was true; why'd he propose? It's not like I've changed much. I'm still here trying to figure this shit out and make sure Gemma is fully taken care of. It's not like one day I was the perfect girlfriend and the next I was some controlling freak! I uh.. I talked about it in therapy right? And kind of explaining the situation and the shit we'd said.. I just don't understand. I don't.. I don't get why. Why he wouldn't say anything until it was too late. Why'd he leave? Why'd he ignore me? Gemma? I.. I thought he loved us? I'm such a fucking idiot!" I whined, beginning to fall apart as the silence grew thicker.

"You're not an idiot Leighton"

"No I'm a fucking dumbass! I didn't fucking notice his bullshit! I mean, I noticed he was acting different.. but I.. I don't know! I thought.. I don't know what I thought! I mean, there were times he was overly affectionate, and there were times he wouldn't even look me in the eye! There were nights he couldn't stop putting his dick in me, and there were nights that he didn't come to bed until well in the early morning. It's so.. so.. so hot and cold! It just.. it became normal! I.. I never thought something was wrong. I haven't lived with him like this in so long.. I just.. maybe he was like that ya know? I'm so fucking stupid!" I ranted, my hand tugging at my hair as I began to pace in the kitchen.

"Leighton.."

I waited for her to continue, but she didn't. The frown on her face feeding me sympathy, tugging at my emotional string until I cracked, a small tear rolling down my face.

"I'm pregnant with his baby.. and he didn't want to come home" My voice cracked, my eyes blurred as I swallowed down the truth. "I don't want to lose him" I confessed, rubbing at my eye to clear my vision, "But I don't know how to get him back. He seemed so.. so over it and I can't.. I can't.. Aaliyah I can't do this again"

"Well what did he tell you? You told me you guys argued. Did you listen to him? What did he want?" She pressed, keeping distance between us as I took a deep breath.

"He doesn't want an apartment. He wants a house.. he.. he wants the Bahama's.. Sam" I listed, my voice wobbling.

I cleared my throat, swallowing the lump of boiling emotion. "I just.. He said he was fine. That he'd meet me halfway here" I motioned to the apartment, licking my lips as I looked around.

"Have you met him halfway?" She questioned, a look in her eye telling me I wasn't going to like where this was going.

"What do you mean?"

"Well clearly he gave up something he wanted for you, have you done the same?"

"He doesn't voice what he wants! I mean, he exploded finally about what he wants I guess.. but I just.. I can't do that Aaliyah!"

"Why not?"

"I need security" I stated, Aaliyah pulling her lips to the side, her tongue in her cheek as my brow furrowed. "What?"

"You don't need security" She stated like it was the most superficial information.

"What?"

"Leighton, why won't you leave the apartment?"

"What? What do you mean? This is my home" I stated, confused even more by the eyeroll.

"You're telling me that you want to live in an apartment for the rest of your life? You want Gemma to grow up on the second floor of this dingey building forever?" She asked, my lips parting with offense.

"It is not dingey!"

"Leigh, the hallway carpet is red"

"And?"

"You're not exactly living in a penthouse!"

"I can't afford a penthouse!"

"THAT! That's the problem!" She pointed at me, my face scrunching up.

"What?"

"You can't afford a penthouse! That's your fucking problem! You know who can?! COLBY!" She exclaimed, my eyes narrowing at my best friend.

"Okay, no need to rub it in!" I groused.

"Leighton! You know Colby can afford better than this hellhole!"

"Can you stop!? My apartment isn't bad!"

"It could be better. You don't even have an ensuite bathroom"

"So?"

"So! Colby's last mansion had ensuite bathrooms with like every room! Face it Leighton, he can afford a penthouse if you really wanted to stay in an apartment, but that isn't the problem! The problem is you want control!"

"I do not" I dismissed, shaking my head at her, Aaliyah scoffing, her arms crossing over her chest.

"You do too! You say you want security, but you have security! If you want financial security, you had Colby!"

"I'm not depending on a man, Aaliyah! He's fucking flaky! He leaves!"

"Oh my god" She groaned, my chest tightening as I inhaled a sharp breath, a solemn look on my face. "He left because you pushed him away! What sane person turns down the fucking Bahama's with their sexy fiancé?! I followed River to Tennessee! Your man just wanted to take you on vacation to the Bahamas!"

"Aaliyah" I spoke with a warning tone.

"What!"

"You're crossing a line"

"HOW?!! I'm telling you the fucking truth! It's not my fault you can't take it!"

"I can too fucking take it, but it's bullshit!"

"No it isn't! You're constantly on flight or fight! I understand why he fucking left!" She exclaimed, my body stumbling backwards a little.

"What does that mean?!"

"You're impossible, Leighton! You take and you take and you take! GIVE A LITTLE!" She yelled, my eyes widening at how worked up she was getting.

"Shh! Gemma's down the hall!" I hissed, knowing Gemma was supposed to be packing her bag of toys to leave.

Aaliyah rolled her eyes, glaring at me. "You're controlling Leighton. You want what you want, and you never give in"

"How am I supposed to give when everything is taken from me!" I argued back, my eyes scanning her face, trying to find any sense of warmth and love; how did we get here?

"The only things taken are the things you've left! The things you've neglected! Pushed away! You always try to look like the victim, when you're becoming the villain! You know, Gabe wasn't this horrific monster you've made him out to be when you were dating! You guys were together for years! I get shit went down and you had a rough time and maybe he wasn't the easiest on you... but Leighton, you see what you want to see! Yes, he's made shitty comments; he's done shitty things, but you can't tell me he's been a monster the entire time! You can't tell me Colby's been a dick to you the entire time! Your two serious relationships have ended in similar ways, and yet you're the victim?" She pushed, my breathing becoming heavier as I tried to focus on what she was saying; wishing to not start a fight over something stupid.

Was it stupid? It didn't feel stupid, yet it sounded ridiculous..

"How am I painting myself to be the victim? I've owned up to my shit! I fuck up all the time! I know that-"

"Owning up to your shit, is not changing your behavior!" She snapped, her eyes losing the beautiful pop of color that washed warmth and comfort over me.

What was happening?

I stared at her in disbelief, not finding a single word to throw back in her face.

I swallowed the salvia that had collected in my throat, my lips parting and closing over and over again.

I was speechless.

"And what is my behavior?" I asked softly, the skin of my eyebrows scrunching together as my head began to pound.

"Time and time again, you need something. The world doesn't revolve around you all the time!" She exclaimed, her words feeling like a sword through my chest.

"I never said it did" I stated, confused where all of this pent up emotion was coming from.

"You didn't have to say anything! You show it time and time again! I've been there for you, Logan's been there for you, Gabe's been there for you, hell Silas was there for you! Don't even get me started on Colby! That man has bent over backwards time and time again for you, even in times where you probably didn't deserve it! You have a litter of people willing to drop everything to help and protect you, and all you do in return is ask them again! You yell at Colby for going back to jail, and yet you keep going back to rehab!" Aaliyah threw out, my jaw dropping.

"THAT'S DIFFERENT!"

"HOW! HOW IS THAT DIFFERENT?!"

"I DIDN'T ALMOST KILL SOMEONE!"

"And how did you know he did?! You always think the fucking worst!"

"Because no sane person drinks and drives, let alone twice!"

"And who are you to judge on what a sane person would do?!" She snapped, my chest tightening as my blood began to boil; instant regret covering Aaliyah's face. "Leigh-"

"Get out. Get your shit and leave! I'm so fucking done" I pointed towards the door, my hand literally shaking as I tried to contain the magnitude of emotions rushing through my body.

"Once again, a villain playing the victim" She muttered, my entire body slumping into the counter out of exhaustion, Aaliyah turning on her heel to leave the kitchen.

Was I the villain?

Did I really ruin everything?

Am I the problem?

"Mommy?" A timid voice caught my attention, my head turning to the arch of the kitchen. "Done yellin'?" She asked, my entire heart shattering onto the floor as my head hung low.

Fuck.

I took a deep breath, finding whatever left over strength I had to pull myself up.

I need to be there for her. To be the adult. The safe space, and here I was yelling when she was just 20 feet away.

"Yes baby, I'm sorry" I mumbled, squeezing my eyes shut, letting a few deep breaths fill my lungs before blinking away the stubborn tears; turning to face my daughter.

"You otay?" She asked, stepping on the shattered pieces.

"I'm okay lovebug. Auntie Lay Lay and I were just arguing. We're okay, okay?" I asked and she nodded slowly. "Hug?" I suggested, crouching down to her level.

She slowly walked over to me, once in arms reach I yanked her into my chest, getting her to gasp then giggle as I squeezed her.

"I love you Gemma. I'm sorry mommy was yelling" I apologized, my words muffled against her beautiful blonde hair.

"Go see Papa?" She asked and I nodded against her, lifting her up as I stood up, her legs wrapping around my waist.

"Are you all packed?" I questioned, Gemma nodding.

I placed a tender kiss on her cheek, Gemma's hands cradling my face.

"Mommy no cwy, kay?" She said, my lip quivered, but I quickly nodded.

"Okay"

"Wove you!"

"Love you so much Gemma Lorraine"

~

"You made this all by yourself?!" My dad gasped, plopping a piece of the bread onto two plates.

Gemma shook her head, "Mommy elp me!" she declared, ignoring my breathy laugh.

Gemma watched with bated breath as her Papa tried her baked goods, a grin breaking out on her face as he hummed with approval.

"Papa Ike?!" She excitedly asked, rocking on her feet as her fingers dug into the countertop.

"I love it baby girl. You're the best baker!"

"YAY!" She squealed, my dad and I grinning down at her.

"You know if you're not careful, you might have a mini Mormor on your hands" He joked, my cheeks tightening as Gemma shoveled more bread into her mouth.

"It'll be better than a mini Papa" I teased, my dad faking offense.

"Are you having more or am I putting it back?" He asked, offering me some of the bread.

"I had some earlier. I'm not the biggest fan of bananas" I reminded him, my dad tossing me a strange look as he zipped the bag back up.

"Why'd you make something you won't eat?"

"Because Gemma loves bananas"

~

I crawled into my parents bed, Gemma getting lost in my dad's art room, leaving me alone with my mother.

Her deep raspy breathing was an immediate reminder of what was going on, a breathing tube perched under her nose giving me one too many flashbacks.

"Hi momma" I cooed softly, tugging the comforter up under my boobs, getting comfy against her arm.

I listened to her gasp for air before a quick "Hi" exhaled out, followed by another gasp of her "Sun" and another "Shine"

I licked my lips, letting her voice melt on my heart, my hand carefully grabbing my moms, letting our fingers intertwine.

"I love you momma" I spoke softly, her rough breathing making it hard to feel at peace against her touch.

"Love.... You... Leigh..ton" She breathed out, a small sniffle being the only thing keeping me together.

I laid there, listened to my mom's breathing, her heartbeat being drowned out by the sudden coughing, my body instantly sitting up to help her before we'd fall back into a somewhat peaceful position.

I let my eyes close, my mind racing as I tried to soak it all in, my thumb absentmindedly rubbing against my shirt, my mom's hand lightly squeezing mine.

I could almost look past it. Sure she struggled to do things, and maybe she was bed bound.. but she was still my mom.

Then her eyes looked a little more lifeless, and her smile didn't reach the same spot on her cheeks, and her laugh wasn't as deep.

She was the shell of my mom, and every time I saw her, I swear it got worse, but listening to her gasp for air, or coughing when she gasped too quickly made my body feel like it was hit by a bus.

I was losing her... and I didn't know when.

Today? Tomorrow? Next week? No one knew how long we had left and it terrified me every day.

What if I was asleep? At work? What if I lost her, and I wasn't there?

A soft knock on the door got my attention, the tickle of a stray tear rolling down my face making me feel even worse.

I needed to stop crying.

"Hey, what do you want for dinner?" My dad asked softly, my body shifting more upright, glancing over at my mom who appeared to be sleeping.

My breath got caught in my throat as I grabbed her wrist, immediately checking her palm.

You can never be too sure..

I felt her pulse against my fingertips, my chest falling in relief as I looked back over at my dad, "Whatever Gemma wants is fine"

"Well Gem wanted candy so uh.." he chuckled, a smile tugging at my lips.

"I can come make dinner if you want"

"No, it's fine. You be with your mom. You both need it" He gave me a tender smile, a look of sadness filling his façade. "Tacos fine?"

I nodded and my dad softly shut the door, leaving me alone again.

I hated being alone.

It was probably one of my biggest weaknesses.

Being alone meant no one wanted to stick around. They didn't want you. You weren't worth their time, and I couldn't blame them.

I wouldn't want to be with the villain either.

I got Gemma tucked into bed later that night, her body pressed against mine as I softly ran my hand on her back.

"Momma?"

"Yes, bug?"

"Coco come home soon?" She asked quietly, my shoulders tensing up before collapsing.

"I hope so Gemma"

"Coco.. Coco say no.. no bye bye.. no more. 'Member?" She asked and I immediately smiled at her words, loving that she was starting to say longer sentences and pronounce words correctly, even if she stuttered.

My baby was growing up.

Then her words hit.

No more bye bye.

"Mommy?"

"Hm?"

"Coco.. go.... bye bye wif, wif Sam?" She asked, and I felt her head move off my chest, her faint breath hitting my cheek.

"No baby"

"Oh.. Where... where go?" She curiously asked, the innocent question doing more damage to my fragile heart than intended.

"I don't know baby"

"But.. Coco.. Coc say no.. no bye bye no.. no more! Coco tell.. tell.. Gem Gem.. Coco stay" She said, her frustration becoming clear, catching my attention.

"Sometimes Coco has to go bye bye Gemma"

"But no Sam" I felt her head brush against my chest, telling me she had shaken her head in disagreement.

"No Sam" I agreed, cranking my next to try and look at her, the pitch black room offering no mercy.

"Why... why go.. go bye bye.. wif no Gem..." her voice trailed off and her tiny sniffled was all I needed to quickly understand that this was affecting her more than I thought.

It never dawned on me that Colby and I fighting could affect her.

She's no longer a wiggly little baby, but a talkative toddler.

I moved to lay on my back, pulling Gemma onto my chest, my lips placing a kiss against wherever I could reach first.

"I'm sorry baby. Coco.." breathe. "Coco and mommy.. well.." How do you explain this to a toddler? "Coco's mad at mommy"

"Why?"

"Mommy and Coco.. are struggling to share" I settled on, my brain quickly shuffling through its files of how to possibly make this comprehendible to a toddler.

"No nice!" Her head shook, a pained breathy laugh making my chest shake.

"It's not nice" I agreed.

"Wogan say.. say.. we sh.... sh..sh-air! Air an.. an.. pway nice wif.. wif.. ahvers! No ake.. no ake sad. No.. no timeout!"

"Logan's right. We share and play so nice with everyone. No one wants to be sad, right Gemma?" I asked, Gemma nodding, shifting against my chest before nuzzling into my neck.

"Momma...? Momma.. sad?"

"I'm okay baby"

"Cweye doe?"

"Sometimes"

"Why?"

Why. A single word that held mountains worth of weight.

Why did I cry?

Sadness? Frustration? Anger? Love?

"Mommy cries.. because... sometimes mommy has bad days"

"Papa say" She started then giggled which caught my attention, "Papa say.. say.. when gwumpy.." she giggles again, "ake.. ake... ake nap!" She snickers, my heart filling with happiness at her little noises, "Akes no gwumy no ore!" She giggles.

"Yeah? Does naptime fix Gemma's mood?" I playfully asked, the side of my head against the top of hers.

I felt her shrug against me, tugging at the blanket that had fallen.

"Papa say so! I dunno!"

"Well whatever Papa says must be right, huh?" I joked, knowing damn well this girl wakes up either as a run of sunshine, a mini monster.

"Yesss! Papa say he's always wight!"

"Alright lovebug. We need to start calming down and go night night so we're not grumpy for Nonna and Papa tomorrow, okay?" I spoke softly, yet with some authority, sensing that Gemma was going to get a burst of energy if we didn't slow her roll.

That morning Gemma and I got up as the ass-crack of dawn, Gemma full of wiggles as she jumped on me, ignoring my groans of protest until my heart dropped.

"Gemma! No!" I quickly yelled, Gemma freezing as I shoved her off of me, her body bouncing against the mattress, my hands tugging my shirt up and running over my belly, fear cursing through my veins, not sure what I was looking for, but afraid to find anything out of the ordinary.

Silence filled the room, my eyes looking over towards my daughter who I shoved aside, tugging my shirt back down.

Her eyes were full of tears before she began to scurry off the bed, her hand reaching above her head to open the door; struggling until it swung open and she raced up the basement steps.

Godamnit!

I flopped back against my bed, my hands covering my face as I laid there in defeat before crawling out of the bed to the dresser, taking my prenatals.

I trudged up the steps, my dad and Gemma coming into view as she snuggled into his chest, her face wet with tears.

Deciding to leave them alone, I poured a bowl of cereal for Gemma and I, grabbing her special spoon that Landon had gotten her a year back, setting her bowl on the table.

"Gemma, breakfast!" I called out, hovering over the counter to spoon cereal into my mouth.

Halfway through my bowl, Gemma still hadn't shown.

Rolling my eyes I walked back to the living room, Gemma watching cartoons.

"Gemma, breakfast" I stated, leaning against the wall. "Gemma. Breakfast. Come on, it's going to get soggy" I tried again, still being ignored. "Gemma Lorraine Fox" my voice raised, Gemma's head turning to look at me, her face all scrunched up. "Go eat your breakfast!" I pointed to the kitchen.

"No ungry!"

I huffed, rolling my eyes and going back into the kitchen, pouring some of her cereal into my bowl, setting the half full bowl of cereal into the sink.

The rest of the morning she ignored me, not caring if I asked nicely or warned her with a time out for not listening, Gemma crying the entire time she sat in the corner, yelling at me as I past her, only adding to her punishment, which ended in even more tears.

"You're being quite harsh on my granddaughter ya know" Dad commented, walking over to the art desk where I had been sketching, missing the feeling of a charcoal pencil between my fingers.

"Yeah? Well your granddaughters being a brat" I grumbled, earning a look of disapproval.

"What's going on Leighton?"

"Nothing"

"Leighton"

"What?"

"You know, before you got caught up in doing things you shouldn't, you liked hanging out with your dear old dad. Painting with me, learning how to fix things.. you definitely liked borrowing the twenties from my wallet that never got replenished" He teased, a small smile cracking on my lips, my eyes trained on the beautiful sketching paper in front of me. "Come on Leigh. What's going on? Your smile that matches your mothers isn't smiling as bright anymore. I'm already losing one of my girls, don't let me lose another. Talk to me sweetheart"

My face fell as my eyes closed, my lips rolling in as I inhaled, my eyes opening as I turned to look at him. "Colby left" I confessed quietly, turning back to my paper, the pad of my finger smudging out one of my darker lines.

"Left?" He asked and I nodded, my dad sighing, grabbing his stool and pulling it up next to me, fishing out another sketch pad and some colored pencils.

"That daughter of yours got me into these" He noted, letting the colorful pencils spill onto the desk. "She told me I made too much old stuff" he chuckled, my lips tugging at my daughter's view on black and white. "You know.. when you were a little girl" He began, my eyes catching his hand moving effortlessly against the paper, never making a wrong move, "You used to tell me how much you couldn't wait to have a family. Be married, have kids.. then you grew up" He stated, never looking over at me as he grabbed another pencil. "You always looked forward to the future. To be older than you were. I remember when things started to change, and I thought that that was you growing up. That this is what the books and movies were talking about. Daddy's little girl growing up. I never.. I never thought my little girl would turn to such dark corners. Use such substances.. go down that dark path; especially when her life was full of color" He continued, my eyes stinging at his words. "And then you grew up. You weren't my baby, you weren't my troubled teen.. you were a 22 year old woman who birthed a beautiful baby girl, met incredible friends and slowly figured out her life. You found color honey, and I think... I think we all struggle to see color. It's easier to focus on the dark line work, then the stunning pastels. I used to get frustrated when someone would comment on how neat my linework was, instead of the color palette I had chosen. I'd spend hours figuring out the color scheme; afraid of messing up my work... only for them to comment on the linework, or shadowing. It took me years to understand that those dark or harsh lines are what made the work. Not the pastels I threw down to appease the eye. I raised you to be pastels Leighton.. but you grew up finding your linework and shadows, and that's what makes you beautiful honey. Colby leaving you isn't ideal.. I guess.. but.. sometimes one extra detail in your linework is what pulls the entire thing together"

Silence fell between us, my body leaning over to wrap my arms around his neck, my dad freezing his movement.

"I love you" my voice muffled against the sleeve of his shirt, my dad turning to pull me into a full hug.

"I love you too sweetheart. It's going to be okay" he reassured and that's when I broke down, my body shaking against his as I cried, my dad's arms hugging me closer as he tried to calm me down.

"I'm back where I was five years ago" I cried, my nails began to dig into my arm as I tried to relieve the antsy pressure in my shaking arms.

"You're nowhere near where you were five years ago, Leighton. You've grown so much" Dad reassured me, pulling away to see my face, my arms loosening around him.

"I'm not though!" I whined, wiping more tears off my dumb face.

I was so fucking tired of crying!

How fucking pathetic do you have to be to cry over every single little thing?!

"Dad... I don't.. I don't know what to do! I'm back in the same shitty place I was five years ago! Pregnant, scared and alone except now I have a toddler!" I began to spit out through my whines and cries, not letting my dad get a word in edgewise.

"Wait- hold on" He interrupted, but I kept going.

"And where am I supposed to live?! Colby pays rent! I can't just live in the apartment anymore!-"

My dad raised his voice, "Leighton Rae Fox!" making my words halt, "You're pregnant?" He asked, his voice full of authority.

I could feel myself shrivel, feeling like a child under a parental gaze, having been caught in a lie.

I nodded slowly, backing away a little, unsure of what was to happen next.

Would he be mad? Disappointed? Kick me out? Disown me? Was I homeless again?

I froze when his hand reached out for me, flight or fight kicking in, horrific memories of being kicked out coming to the forefront of my head, until he carefully pulled me into his chest.

"You're having another one of my grandbabies?" He asked, his voice sounding emotional as he hugged me.

I nodded, unsure what to say, not wanting to make it worse, or accidently ruin his current flow of emotion.

Why was he hugging me?

Did he hear me? I'm back to where I was when I was 21.

Colby left me.

I was pregnant. Again.

I have a toddler.

"Dad?" My voice shook, my entire body feeling frozen, ready for anything that might come my way.

"I can't believe you're having another one of my grandbabies! I'm going to have three grandbabies! When are you due?!" he asked, his voice in disbelief as he pulled away, his eyes trained on my stomach, insecurity crawling up the back of my spine, resisting the urge to turn, or cover my stomach.

"I'm due towards the end of May. Got 'bout five months" I informed him, my dad nodding.

"Do you have a bump? You were quite small with Gemma, weren't you?" He asked, intrigued as he looked back at my eyes.

"I uh.. I mean.. yeah? I um.. well.. I.." I sighed, lifting my shirt to show him. "I uh.. am.. pudgy? Sorry..."

"You do have a little bump!" he cooed, "Can I touch? Your mom used to get so mad when I would caress her stomach, but how could I not?! You kids were kickers and I always missed it!"

"Mom would get mad?" I questioned, before realizing I didn't answer him, "Yeah you can touch"

His hand came out to caress my stomach, his eyes twinkling as his face filled with awe. "Yeah.. your mom was always tender with you guys. She didn't mind my hand on her stomach like this.. but like hugs? No go. I guess you guys wouldn't leave her ribs alone, so her sides were always sore or something? — Wow Leighton. I can't believe you're pregnant"

"You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad sweetheart?"

"Because... Colby left? I'm alone.. again? I'm not married.." I began to list, my dad letting out a sigh of dread, standing upright again, letting my shirt fall back down to cover my stomach.

"Is it ideal? No.. but honey, you've done it before, and you're not alone. You have family here who will help. I don't know what's going on inside that man's head leaving you alone like this.. and to be quite frank, I don't want to know. All I know is my beautiful daughter is giving me even more beautiful grandbabies to love on. You're still clean right?" he asked, my jaw dropping.

"Dad! What?! Yes I'm clean!"

"Just checking" He hummed, ignoring my offended stare, "Does he plan to be in the baby's life?"

"What?"

"Does Colby plan to stick around?"

"Well.. I don't know. I don't even know if we're broken up. We've just uh.. had issues and he left" I explained, feeling awkward about dishing out my relationship problems to my dad.

"Talk to him, Leighton. Figure this stuff out. I'll always be here if you need me, but you're a big girl now. You can do it"

~

"Are you going to talk to mommy now?" I asked, Gemma walking into my parents bedroom where I had been hiding for the past two hours.

"Hungry" She stated, my eyebrow cocking.

"Get a snack"

"Elp peas"

"Go ask Papa"

"Papa say ask momma"

I groaned, pushing myself out of bed and leading her back downstairs, grabbing her a plastic bowl, pouring some goldfish in and going to send her on her way, confused when she continued to stand in front of me, munching on her goldfish.

"Can I help you? I thought you were watching cartoons before Harper got here?"

"Coco say hi to Gem Gem?" She asked, full of innocence.

"I'll look and let you know, okay?" I lied, "Go finish your cartoons before Harper gets here" I ushered her away, Gemma staying in place.

"I see?" She asked, her tone sickly sweet.

"See what?"

"Coco say hi" Gemma stated, acting like it was the most obvious answer.

"Baby.." I frowned, not wanting to let her down, but also not wanting her perfect idea of Colby to crumble.

"Talk Coco!" She whined, becoming impatient.

"Gemma, later-" I tried, already knowing she wouldn't have it.

We've fought one too many times during bedtime whilst Colby's been on work trips for me to act like my daughter would just let this go.

"No! Talk Coco momma! Say hi!"

Groaning, I pulled out my phone and found his contact, passing it to her, feeling guilty that I knew he wouldn't answer.

I listened to it ring, Gemma still eating her snack as we waited, the voicemail operator being heard before the beep.

"Why Coco no say hi Gem Gem?" She asked, turning to look ip at me, "I be bad?"

My eyes widened as I quickly hit end on the voicemail.

"You weren't bad Gemma" I quickly reassured, hating that I had no idea where he was to even begin to fulfill her request.

"Why no say hi momma?"

"I don't know Gemma"

"Coco wove me, Coco say hi" She spoke in an assured tone, reaching for my phone again. "Hi gin?" She asked and I mentally sighed, wanting to protect her little heart, even if that meant she was mad at me.

"No Gemma"

"Say hi Coco!" She tried again, ignoring me as she made grabby hands towards my phone, bouncing on her toes.

"Gemma, no" I tried again, my voice more stern, Gemma reading right through its wobble of uncertainty.

"MOMMY!" She whined,"call Coco!"

"No Gemma. Colby's busy"

"No busy for Gem" She shook her head, my eyes rolling.

"Gemma, he left. He doesn't want to say hi to us" I snapped, my frustration taking over from her relentless behavior.

Her face scrunched with anger, "Coco say hi momma!"

"Gemma-"

"No! Mean Momma!"

Inhale. Exhale.

"Gemma. Please"

"Coco say hi Gem Gem when goes bye bye mommy!" She spoke with determination.

Times like this made me hate that she was growing up.

She understood enough to know the routine, but not enough to understand change, and it was starting to kill me.

How could he leave us? Leave my baby girl with no way to communicate when he knows she talks to him at least once a day!

How bad had things been fucked up for him to just turn his back on us? On her?

I felt defeated, running out of any way to deter her without shattering her view of him, "I know Gemma"

"Say hi, mommy!"

"Gemma, we can't" I continued, my toddlers eyes filling with tears.

"Whyy!" She whined, stamping her feet in front of me.

"He's busy, lovebug. We'll try later, okay?" I reassured her, Gemma frowning as she sniffled.

We will call, and call and call if that means I can keep Gemma hopeful.

If Colby wanted to ruin his relationship with my daughter, that was his call to make. I refuse to let my actions change her view of him.

Why should I be the villain in her story too, when he's the one who left?

Later that evening we tried again, and again, and again, no reply.

I could see Gemma was extremely disappointed but I quickly got her attention, asking her if she wanted some cookies and to play outside with Harper.

Cynthia and I sat on the back patio watching our girls play as I mindlessly scrolled through Colby and I's texts.

I felt pathetic.

"Isn't your thumb tired?" Cynthia remarked, her eyes locked on me as I continued the motion, stopping when I got to texts that were happy and full of love.

I clicked the three dots, wanting to know the last time it was like this, instantly wishing I hadn't.

"Leighton?" Cynthia called, waving her hand in front of my face.

"Hm?"

"What's wrong?"

"I— Can I ask you something?"

"Of course" she nodded, my lips twitching to the side before rolling inwards, switching off my phone.

"If I'm crossing a line, just say so and I'll immediately apologize, but.. have you and Logan.. ever.." I chewed on my lower lip, clicking my phone back on, Colby and Gemma cuddling in our bed staring back at me.

"Ever…?"

"Have you guys ever.." I tried again, the words getting caught in my throat.

"Ever what? Spit it out Leighton"

"Did you ever feel like it wasn't him? That you'd made a mistake?" I spat out, carefully looking at her, ready to apologize for asking such a personal question.

"What do you mean? What's going on Leighton?"

"Have you ever felt like Logan wasn't who you were supposed to marry?" I tried again, Cynthia appearing confused.

"What, like fighting or?"

"No.."

"Leighton what's going on?"

I sighed, setting my phone on the glass table in front of me, leaning on my elbow as I faced her.

"Colby left me.. and I.. I can't help but wonder if it's for the better" I confessed, relying on the fact that she's never judged me before.

"He left? Like.. packed his shit and didn't look back?" She asked and I nodded slowly, Cynthia's face falling.

"Oh Leighton.."

"He.." I started, letting out a breath of air I didn't even know I was holding. "He packed a suitcase. We argued, he packed, we yelled, he left. I just.. I can't get his last words out of my fucking head! And Aaliyah.. Aaliyah basically told me it was my fault, which is what Colby basically said and I just…. Have you ever thought that maybe it wasn't worth the fight? That maybe when he storms down the hall… that it's better to walk in different directions?" I asked, ready to cling onto every word she'd say next.

"Leighton, walking down the hall… and walking out the door are two very different things" She said, my entire world crashing at my feet. "Logan's never left, if that's your question. Yes we've separated to cool off but the only time he's packed his shit and walked out the door was for bootcamp"

"Would you follow him, if he had?" I asked the question bouncing around in my head for hours.

Should I have followed him? Begged him not to go?

"I would. I love him" She stated, not missing a beat, completely unaware that her response would only scatter the pieces of my previously shattered heart.

Do you chase the person you love, or do you let them go and set them free?

How much chasing is too much?

How much fighting is too much?

Silence really could be deadly..

"Leighton?"

"What?" I snapped, my sinuses burning.

"Do you love him?"

"Who? Colby?"

"Yes you dumbass" she laughed, ignoring whatever façade my face decided to show.

I pursed my lips, looking out towards Gemma and Harper who were playing in a sandpit my dad had gotten them, turning back towards Cynthia I softly replied, "I thought I did"

I looked back down at my hands, distracting myself from Cynthia’s sympathetic gaze, a few moments of silence passing by until I turned my head to look back at her, Cynthia watching the kids.

“Is it selfish to want him back, when he’s been unhappy?” I softly asked, my entire body feeling like someone placed a weighted blanket on my chest.

“Not if you loved him” She hummed, allowing herself to look back at me.

“And if he doesn’t love me?”

“Leighton, do you truly believe that boy doesn’t love you?”

I slowly shook my head, looking away.

I refuse to cry.

He didn’t deserve my tears anymore. I needed to grow up and get over myself before I ruined everything in reach.

“I don’t even know where to begin to get him back. I feel like I’ve been left to drown” I confessed,huffing as I leaned back against the patio chair, the evening sun blinding me. “I’ve never been good at showing how I feel.. And I think he’s.. He’s just tired of hearing it”

“What do you want, Leighton?”

Without missing a beat I replied, “For him to be happy” hearing Cynthia huff out of annoyance.

“I asked what do you want. Not what you want for him”

“I don’t know. I guess.. I just..” I paused, taking a deep breath.

What did I want?

Maybe I deserve to be left to drown.

I have nothing to work for, to achieve, to dream of..

“Leighton, would you be okay if you lost him? If he dated other people?” She asked, switching her position in the chair to lean closer to me.

“If it makes him happy.. I’d be okay” I said softly, the sounds of our little girls squealing as they played with Nova getting my attention.

I watched Gemma’s grin as Nova licked her, her little hand petting the dog.

I knew Gemma would love to have a dog, and that it wasn’t just some toddler dream of hers; I wish I could afford it.

Money has become an issue again, and I hated that.

I tried to work so hard to at least have a little cushion in our life, but yet again, here I was praying that I had enough to cover the bills.

I knew if things kept going the way they were, I’d need to pick up a second job and simply say goodbye to Colby, and pray to god Gemma didn’t notice my absence, but then again.. Maybe it would benefit her in the long run.

I felt a hand touch my leg, my body jumping as my eyes darted to Cynthia, “Leighton? Were you listening?”

“No, sorry. What?”

“What’s got you so lost in your thoughts?” She asked and I chuckled, shaking my head out of disbelief.

Did she miss the part where my fiance left?

“Just life being as shitty as always. Thanks for the uh.. chat, Cynthia. I need to start heading back home” I stated, getting up, ready to call Gemma when Cynthia’s hand caught my wrist.

“Leighton, there is no rulebook for love and happiness. If you think he’s the one, fight for him. Show him. Don’t live with the regret of what could have happened. Sometimes people need a little extra love” She winked at me and I nodded slowly, passing her a soft smile.

“Thanks, I love you” I murmured, leaning down to hug her.

“I love you too. Now go win lover boy back. The entire family is hooked and simply, I don’t feel like meeting a new boyfriend of yours. No one will compare” She grinned, unknowingly planting an annoying seed in my little head, forming a pit at the bottom of my stomach.

No one will compare.

I needed to get him back, but how?

I don’t know how to be romantic, or do the perfect big gesture. I don’t know how to be the perfect girlfriend, or give him the painted picture in his head.

I knew I didn’t deserve him, and that someone else out there could do everything he wanted and then some, but selfishly I wanted him for myself.

I got to him first. I’m having his baby, the least I can do is give him a house…

But how?

I don’t even know where he is right now, so how am I to be expected to fix something when I can’t even find him?

The drive back to the apartment was dreadful, Gemma slumped over my shoulder as she slept, my hand struggling to twist the key and shove the door open.

I inhaled the second the door opened, his smell overwhelming my senses.

Kicking off my shoes, I carefully carried Gemma to her room, panting as I struggled to pull back the covers without waking her.

I stared at her peaceful sleeping body all cozied up in her blankets.

How could he leave her?

I turned on her nightlight, leaving the bedroom door open as I left.

I sat down on the couch, debating if I wanted to burn a candle or not; do I want to rid his smell of our home?

I tugged out my phone, clicking on messages.

Maybe Sam knows where Colby is?

I started typing out a quick message before groaning and deleting it.

Why am I messaging Sam? Why am I bothering to bug someone who hasn’t messaged me?

I stared at his contact, my finger hovering over it a few times.

Why hasn’t he checked in on me?

Maybe that was selfish..

Sighing, I left my messages and went to Google, unknowingly typing in Instagram.

Was I really about to stalk his friends and find out?

Was I stooping that low?

How else was I going to find out?

I typed in Sam, cursing to him as his Instagram Story was empty, going to Katrina next.

Also empty, yet a recent post caught my eye.

Las Vegas, Nevada

katrinastuartoffical: Back to being one of the boys 🤪

1 day ago

Vegas.

Of course.

I closed out of the web browser, my body slumping back against the couch.

How was I supposed to win him back, if he's in Vegas and I'm broke?

My eyes closed, exhaustion starting to take its toll on my body.

How do you make someone happy in a place they didn't want to come home to?

* * * * 

Next chapter is a doozy send help

Written on: March 14th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th 2023

Published on: March 19th 2023

Word Count: 8660

Part Ten

[stinkysam]

Peter Parker - Hit “send”

Warning : none

Genre : Fluff

Synopsis : "you want to watch a movie with your boyfriend who has tendencies to get late"

Reader : gender neutral (you/yours)

A/N : I haven’t wrote in this format in a very long while, I can’t say I’ll do it all the time but I’ll try to use it more- sometimes bullet-point doesn’t give the thing I want

Throwing your clothes at the bottom of your bed you changed into your pajamas and curled your fingers by the corner of the TV, turning it on as you scanned the room for the remote. Pulling your phone out to check the TV guide, you walked toward the window and unlocked it, both to get some fresh air in and to allow Peter to get in without having to wait for you to open.

Looking outside for a few seconds you notice the remote in the corner of your eyes, between the wall and a broken alarm clock to the right, hidden in the small mess of empty or unused ball-pens scattered on the windowsill, along with scissors and a shitty cutter you stole from your previous workplace.

You pushed them to the side so he could get a somewhat clear entrance and texted him he could come whenever. You climbed on your bed and sat under the covers and rested your back against the pillow. Still you refused to let your head touch the wall, the void between your bed and the wall giving the same energy as letting your feet dangle out of the bed at night.

You changed channels and once again checked the TV guide, turning the volume up and focusing on your phone as commercials were still playing. A few minutes passed and the movie started, you turned off the lights and let go of your phone. Despite a rocky start from a lack of interest at the beginning you still found yourself hooked after the first 10 minutes, unable to look away, the outside world being nonexistent at this point.

Until the commercial break.

Grabbing your phone you sighed, hoping it wouldn't last too long or that they wouldn't put the same things multiple times in a row. You checked your messages to see if Peter said anything.

Disappointment washed over you for a few seconds before you saw the ‘read 5 minutes ago’. You glanced at the window as you began thinking. He either started doing something at the same time and forgot to answer or he found himself too busy to actually type something. He better not be texting and fighting- or swinging ! He would get cocky at times, focusing more on the screen than his footing and suddenly tripping or losing balance, almost comically smashing his phone against a wall or nearly throwing himself on the nearest surface. He'd try to play it off saying it wasn’t his fault as you'd struggle to contain your laughter.

"At least he saw my text" you thought as you looked at the TV in annoyance, waiting for the movie to continue. You were a little bit bummed out Peter wasn't here yet, you didn't really plan to watch it together but he did say he wanted to see it. As soon as the words left his mouth you wrote a reminder on your phone, refusing to miss an opportunity to spend a good time with your boyfriend.

The light in the room changed as the movie went back on, the bright light of commercials turning to those of a night scene as the main character argued with his friend. Pushing your thoughts aside you took a minute to recover from the break, remembering what was going on, quickly forgetting about everything around you, just submerged in every scene. 

Minutes go by and you barely notice the shuffling in your room, only the clanking of your window makes you snap your head toward the source of the noise, catching Peter grimace at his failed attempt at closing your sturdy window discreetly.

He quickly moved on, hurriedly taking his jacket off while throwing a plastic bag on your bed. "Did I miss a lot ?" he asked while you took a peek at what was inside : mostly snacks– and a pair of socks ? "Kind of. I think we're half-way through". You push the covers, allowing him to sit between your legs, back resting against your chest as you notice he's not wearing city clothes. He sighed, content with himself, grabbing the bed-sheets and emptying the bag. "Did you go to the store in pajamas ?"

He turned slightly to face you, hands working the unopened box of cheez-it "Yeah, why", you shrugged and wrapped an arm around him, placing a kiss on his temple. "Nothing".

You returned your attention to the movie, nudging Peter to do the same after having him try to push the snacks in your mouth. Resting your head against his, you felt him move again, one hand digging under the covers to interlink his fingers with yours.

Quickly relaxing together, you hear Peter talk, whispering he did not understand what the characters are talking about. You take a few seconds to remember and quietly answer, a small smile forming on your face. Your words stirred more questions than anything, looking at the TV screen with a growing discomfort of not having the full context. You say nothing, waiting for him to decide what to do, your smile growing as you watch him try to place the pieces one by one. You finally satisfy his curiosity when the second commercial break arrives, telling him everything he needed to know and almost not noticing the movie was on again, too distracted by your exchange. Only realizing it when Peter pushed the box of cheez-it in your free hand to grab a pack of oreos, craving more sweet than salt at the moment.

Silence returned in the room except for the sound of the TV as you both grew too tired to comment anything, focusing simply on what you were watching. Peter’s fingers would often randomly start playing with yours, enjoying each other’s proximity and warmth. You remained like this even after the end of the movie, simply turning the volume down to quietly cuddle, sharing a few words between lazy kisses while the snacks almost landed on the floor when Peter rolled around on his stomach to completely face you.

"I'm happy you showed up, I wasn't sure you would" you say pecking his lips. "What ? Why ? I told you I'd come". You looked at him, mirroring his confused expression and checked your phone. "No, you didn't ?" you showed him your screen, the last text was yours, left on read.

Peter grabs your phone to have a better look but his perplexity only grows along with yours.

He wiggled a little to get his own phone, struggling a bit with his position. He tapped on the small device, brows furrowed before letting out a quiet “Oh” and started giggling in shame, dropping his face against your chest while turning his screen for you to see.

"Alright. Am on my way ❤" was still sitting in his drafts.