#if someone told me anything close to this I would simply pass away

[juiceastronaut]

Ik the episode was full of "Fellas is it gay to--" moments with Kabru and Laois BUT THE FACT THAT Kabru was studying Laois close enough to tell that Laois pupils were dialated???????? Holy shit???? Fellas is it gay to be so locked into your hyperfocus of a man crush that you can immediately tell that his pupils are dialated and why all while intently listening to him ramble about his special interest?

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[oswildin]

Loki x Bestfriend!You Headcannons (He’s In Love With You)

A/N: Avenger!Loki AU, Avenger!You

You’re the first person he has ever felt he could just be himself around. There were no titles, no expectations, just Loki. It was freeing.

Loki always searches for you first whenever he hears the latest bit of gossip around the compound (yes, he most definitely is a gossiper, he just loves the drama, and if he can stir the pot, oh he will).

Quiet evenings with you. You force him to watch films with you, and he always grumbles and will consistently commentate through the whole thing, but secretly, he loves it. He loves being able to spend time with just you, away from everyone else.

He thinks he masks his feelings well, he’s known for deception after all, but no… It’s clear to everyone that the man is totally head over heels and would do anything (and I mean anything) for you. They have bets on how long it takes for him to finally tell you.

He didn’t realise what he felt at first, having never really felt romantic love before. Sure, he’d had fancies, but never anything… real.

It took him a long time to realise that yes, it was in fact ‘love’ he felt for you. The moment he realised was when you were both taking a stroll around the compound grounds, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything felt perfect. And then you turned to look at him, the sun sitting perfectly behind you, casting you in an almost ethereal glow.

It was then he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter in his belly, his eyes widening a fraction at the sight of you. He felt sick and excited at the same time. Nervous yet comfortable. Scared yet peaceful. How was that even possible? Even for a God of his own contradictory nature, that all felt so contrasting.

“Loki? You good?” You’d raised a brow, giving him a strange look as he hadn’t said anything in a good ten seconds - which was rare for him.

“Hm?” Loki had blinked, clearing his throat. “I- uh, yeah, yes. Fine.” He had awkwardly told you, nodding, trying to regain composure.

How utterly cliche. Like a scene from one of those awful romantic films you made him suffer through.

Oh, how his gaze softens whenever you’re in the room. Almost like a lovesick puppy. If his past self could see him now, he would’ve called him ‘pathetic’ and tell him to ‘get a grip’.

But current Loki, he didn’t care. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Of course he had to fall for his best friend. It couldn’t have just been simple. Easy. But then again, of course he had to fall for his best friend… To even be considered his best friend, well, that was no easy feat.

He takes any reason to be ridiculously close to you. Cooking? You bet he’s standing right beside you at the stove, moving every time you move to grab a spice. Watching a film? Yeah, there’s plenty of space on the sofa, but on the other side of it he can’t make sure his arm is touching yours. Handing him something? Oh, he is practically grabbing your whole hand just to feel the tingle go up his arm.

There was one time he had overheard Natasha mentioning she was planning to set up a blind date for you. He had never interjected himself into a conversation so fast before.

“A blind date? How… tedious. Besides, doesn’t it seem counterintuitive? Going to meet someone you have never seen before? Don’t even know the name of? They could be a- a psychopath or a murderer, or worse yet utterly hideous and dull.”

Yeah, he handled that with his usual tactile diplomacy. (Sarcasm)

“That’s not how blind dates work, Loki.” Natasha told him with a smirk. “I know the candidate.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” Sarcasm, obviously.

Loki was extremely relieved when he found out you had turned down her offer.

“Babe, could you pass me the salt?” You’d once said.

Natasha AND Loki both reached for the salt.

You looked at Loki strangely. Natasha simply smirked. Loki looked extremely embarrassed. He didn’t even like the thought of being called ‘babe’. Well… At least not until you’d said it. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“I thought you said ‘hey’-“ Loki had tried to cover.

You got hurt on a mission? Even just a scratch? Oh, Loki is worrrrieeeddddd.

“Let me see.” He’d insist. “Loki, I’m fine-“ You’d try. “Yes, maybe so, but I’d like to be sure, you mortals are extremely fragile-“ He’d say with his usual dry humour.

He’d dress your wound, even if the med staff had done, he would always find something to critique, something that he could do better. All because he wanted to be the one to make sure you were okay, safe, looked after.

The sun is in your eyes? How dare it, utterly unacceptable, he would not have it. He would destroy it for such an offence. (Not really, but you get the idea).

“Loki, no-“ Tony had said. “Loki, yes-“ Loki had said. “Loki, no.” You had said. “Loki, no.” Loki had said. (Again, you get the idea).

He just found you… utterly comforting. Safe. You accepted him for him. Not the masks, just him. And he finally felt like he belonged. And he would be damned if he ever lost that. Whether he ever revealed how he felt or not…

Spoiler: He does, by accident. Slip of the tongue. What a tragedy for a God known for his silver-tongue, but it seemed even he had his slip-ups, his moments of humanness.

Another spoiler: Of course, you loved him too.

[yan-randomfandom]

HIIIIIIII I love your writing alot!!!! Soo, I wanna request something:3

Maybe a Yandere Stanford Pines x GN reader who only saw him as a close friend? They became friends when they were still in high-school up to this day! (Yes, reader did sort of wait 30 years for Ford and never forgot about him)

Maybe just Stanford obsessing over Reader romantically, and Reader just think him as the greatest best-friend ever!!

I LOVE ONE SIDED PINNING OKAY????

Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

UM UH,,, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON— and it's something I'm not even proud of 😭😭

context btw; reader doesn't know about weirdmaggedon or fake death or entire lore, they dont tell them anything uhhh idk anymore

You took the bus to Gravity Falls! Stanley reached out to you after decades of not having contact. It was a bit sudden, but there's no way you're going to ignore his call.

Stanley Pines was the first man you saw when the Mystery Shack's door opened. Wrinkly, exhausted widened eyes looked at you in silence. He looked unprepared... kind of crusty musty... and very unhygienic.

"You look disgusting! I'm gonna hug you anyway!" you beamed, pulling him in for a big hug. Unwillingly, a strong whiff of his scent hits your nose. "You stink too! You haven't changed a bit, Stanley."

"Glad to know ya missed me," he laughed, giving you an affectionate noogie.

When Stan finally let you go, you looked up to see Ford. He stood in front of you, speechless as he stared into your eyes.

"...Ford," you grinned, walking towards him. In curiosity, you placed your palms on both his cheeks. He seemed to relax with your touch. "You changed a lot."

Your eyes, while they've wrinkled, are as warm as the day he last saw them. He smiled back, his large hand covering one of yours. Your smile widened when you saw his fingers. "And you aged beautifully."

Poetic as always! A laugh bubbled up your throat as you wrapped your arms around him.

He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face into your neck. He missed this. He missed you.

Your warmth didn't change. Fascinating.

"I missed you, man! How come you're such a silver fox now? Good for you!"

"I still have no idea what a silver fox is," he chuckled, already longing for you the second you pulled away from him.

Ford merely stood there for a few moments before he grimaced. Damn it. He still likes you, doesn't he?

It's been more than thirty years already. He thought he would have moved on, especially after the whole weirdmaggedon thing. Why would Stanley ever get the idea of calling you back here??

All of you now sat at the table with you in between the Pines twins. Mabel wore an apron, sophisticatedly offering you tea. The sweetheart made the recipe herself!

"So, how have you been doing these days?" Ford asked, resting his cheek on his palm. Every passing second with you, he gets reminded more and more of why he used to like you.

You are, after all, the first and only person to not call him any sort of names because of his hands.

"Oh, I mean, I've been financially doing well, and it's been a bit difficult to settle down with a partner... but," you blushed. "I think I finally found the one."

Ford coughed out violently, pounding a fist against his chest. He really shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't! You're bound to have found someone!

Get a grip. Fourty. Years.

...He truly had missed out on this dimension for such a long time.

...

The sky is dark. Dipper told you about the roof spot at the shack, and now you're here, thinking about life.

"Dipper said you'd be here," a voice murmured. You looked up and saw Ford walking up to you. Chuckling, you offered him a non-alcoholic drink.

"How many days will you be staying here again?" Ford asked as he sat next to you, sparing a small space between.

"A week at most," you shrugged, kicking your legs at the edge. Ford simply stared at you.

"I guess it'll be forever before we see you again, huh?" he mumbled.

You turned to him with a smile. "Of course not. You guys are invited to my wedding."

... Wedding.

A small huff left your lips. "We're so old now. I still remember being in high school and grouping up with you and Stan when a trio was needed. Good times."

Ford continued staring at you.

"You guys were my best friends. Probably not now, I mean, been decades since we last talked. That reminds me, what made you call—"

Ford suddenly interrupted you with a hug.

"Woah, Fordsy, you miss me that much?" you laughed, hugging him back.

Don't call him that. His arms around you tightened.

You simply let him hug you.

It was such a long one.

And it only grew tighter by the second.

Like he never wanted to let you go again.

but his aim is getting better 🗣️

i love your idea so much btw, i too am a fan of one-sided pining.... the desperation yk.. I THINK I JUST SUCK AT WRITING FOR THAT WHAT 😟 (says the yandere blog)

[pierregazly]

are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

[evermoresversion]

For James Beaufort

He has a girlfriend and Ruby tries to ruin it but fail and if you do smut can you add it at the end no pressure to do this.

THE PHOTOS, JAMES BEAUFORT.

A/N I changed Ruby to Elaine because I don't really see Ruby trying to ruin a relationship.

PAIRING James Beaufort x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Established relationship, kind of angsty, fluff? at the end. There may be grammatical and spelling errors since English is not my first language.

SUMMARY Despite all of Elaine's attempts to separate you from James, she never succeeded.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JAMES' MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You and James had been dating for months now.

While most of Maxton Hall considered you both the king and queen of the school, others simply did not accept your relationship.

By "others" I mean Elaine Ellington.

Before, she saw you as a friend or something close to it, someone she could get along with since your father was one of the most important businessmen in the place.

But all thoughts of getting along evaporated the second she saw you arrive at Maxton Hall holding hands with the boy she wanted.

From that moment on she promised herself that she would do everything possible to separate you both.

She went from trying to kiss James in front of you at a party, ending in him rejecting her in front of everyone, to her asking one of his friends to try to flirt with you and making you uncomfortable, which ended in James asking someone to beat the shit out of him, since he couldn't risk his reputation doing it himself, but if he could he would have broken the boy's face.

Faced with several failed attempts, Elaine was beginning to despair, but the idea of letting you and James be happy was never in her plans.

Until one day she had an idea.

Somehow he got a girl quite similar to you from the back and had pictures taken of her kissing another guy at a party.

"Perfect." She muttered looking at the photos on her phone. No doubt James would fall and finally leave you.

She walked through the halls to where James was with his friends, you were in a class right at that moment.

"Can we talk?"

James sighed, tired of the situation.

"No, Elaine, I already told you a thousand times that..."

"It's about y/n."

That certainly caught James' attention. He walked away from the group so he could talk to the blonde.

“What about y/n?”

"I didn't want you to find out from me but it seems fair that you know, I shouldn't play with you like that."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

She took her phone out of her bag and showed the photos to James, watching his every reaction, watching how his jaw tensed and how his breathing quickened.

"When did they take these photos?"

"Friday night."

James simply nodded and without saying anything else, he walked towards where Elaine assumed your class was.

She smiled victoriously and left, believing that James would break up with you in a few minutes.

But the next day all hope disappeared again when she saw you both arrive holding hands and laughing with each other.

As you both passed her, James caught her attention.

"Thank you for telling me about the photos."

"Next time make sure I'm not having dinner with his family when according to you I'm kissing another guy." You smiled with false kindness and both of you continued on your way.

Elaine, on the verge of having a tantrum, decided it would be best to wait until you both break up and be there for James.

Although that clearly didn't happen because you ended up engaged to him sooner than she thought.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.

[taegimood]

— fate (c.sb) ♡

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff, smut rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.1k warnings: toxic ex (emotional neglect, abandonment), unplanned pregnancy, body insecurity, pregnancy/breeding kink, brief smut, let’s ignore the questionable timeframe lmao

a/n - this is actually not at ALL what i had originally planned for this concept, it was supposed to just be another one of my lighthearted smutty ramblings (which i might still do in a separate post cuz this concept + soobin’s breeding kink is too juicy for me to pass up lmao) but i like it regardless.. i haven’t done an actual writing piece in ages. this one might be weird tbh lol but i hope you enjoy ~ [written w my lovely @miupow in mind <3]

──────────────────────

it had been 12 months since you met the man who you thought would be forever — foolishly, blindly — the memory as bitter as the winter when you first saw him, mistaken then as something sweet.

it had been 10 months since you began to give him everything that he wanted — the body and the heart that you were never one to gift lightly — convinced that it was love, that it meant more in his eyes that you could never truly seem to read (though you always managed to fool yourself that you could).

it had been 6 months since you started doing anything and everything to make him keep wanting you, losing yourself so slowly in the process that you couldn’t even see it until one day suddenly you did.

it had been 3 months since he left you faster than the changing season when you told him the news, a hurricane of empty eyes and venomous words thrown like daggers that left you bleeding…

and it had been 3 months with a baby in your belly when choi soobin came into your life.

this time, the winter was nothing in comparison to the softness of his smile and the sunlight in his eyes when he stepped through that coffee shop door and into your forever.

—

soobin knew from the moment he saw you that you were someone he could see himself falling in love with.

he had no idea what made you say yes when he asked if you would have a cup of coffee with him;

(maybe it was the fact that he tripped and spilled his milkshake all over you while trying not to look like a loser as he passed by your table and then profusely promised to make it up to you and your poor pair of soiled sweatpants);

and he also had no idea what kept your pages closed even as he got to know you, what kind of shadow it was that would pass over your eyes at his compliments or what made you flinch at an accidental touch of your hands —

but he did know that more than anything he had ever wanted,

he wanted to see the smile reach your eyes.

~

falling in love with soobin came easily.

no matter how hard you first tried to fight it, deny it, run from it… it was as if loving him was something that you were simply made to do.

every soft smile, every careful touch, every word a caress as gentle as the breeze on a summer sunrise; every part of soobin slowly began to fill the cracks of your shattered heart with gold.

the day that he found out about the baby was the day that he told you his heart was yours.

“i know it hasn’t been long and i know i may sound crazy, but whatever happens or whatever doesn’t, y/n, i will love this baby, and i will love you.”

if this child’s father was a starless night then soobin was entire galaxies, the warmth and resoluteness in his eyes enough to melt away any claim that that man had left behind, and as far as you two were concerned, this baby’s real father was standing right here at your side.

——

it’s become harder to find room to love yourself these days as the months go on; your growing belly making it difficult to feel attractive, the insecurities that came with those months of feeling unwanted slowly creeping back into your mind and telling you that you’re not enough to make him stay.

logically, you know that your pregnant body is the only body of yours that soobin has so far seen, and of course here he is still wanting you — he proves it almost every night — but regardless you find yourself crippled by doubt and shame.

frowning at yourself in the mirror after every shower, stuck between the bubbling feelings of love for your baby and the guilt of hating how your body looks because of it.

little do you know, soobin has realized something about himself that he never saw coming before:

your pregnant body has him absolutely losing his mind.

he’s never felt so turned on in his life than when he’s got you laid across his sheets in the evenings with the curve of your swollen belly brushing against him as he slowly fucks into you, your tits full and bouncing softly with each thrust, small hands clutching onto him, your face flushed and beautiful and more undone than he’s ever seen it — free to let go of yourself in his arms.

it’s in these moments that he’s convinced he was made to worship your body with everything that he’s got.

soobin is so desperately attracted to every part of you, so determined to pour his love into you as many times as it takes for you to be able to see exactly what he sees every day;

he can’t help himself, can’t keep it in as he ravishes your cunt, the things he moans and whispers like a prayer in your ear enough to send shivers straight down to your core and push you over the edge every time.

you’re so so beautiful, baby, gonna be the most beautiful mama..

he touches you like he’ll never get the chance again.

perfect belly, perfect tits.. wanna fill you up like this, want you pregnant with my babies, f-fuck-

his name falls like a chant from your lips;

wanna give it all to you one day- wanna make you my wife and fill you up all round and pretty- you’re just s-so pretty, bunny, so perfect.

you feel prettier each time you fall apart.

i love your body, love our baby,

‘n i love you,

i love you,

i love you.

and when you ask him one morning if he means those things he always says, watching as a familiar rosy hue dusts across his dimpled cheeks, soobin takes your hand in his and promises you a lifetime.

——

it’s winter — your favorite season.

the air is crisp and full of starlight as you take a deep breath, the world falling quiet when you meet your husband’s eyes.

“the kids are asleep,” he whispers from the doorway,

and you’ve never been gazed at so tenderly.

you think about where you started and where you are now.

it’s been 5 years since choi soobin walked into your life, bringing the glimmering sun along with him.

5 years since he began showing you the meaning of well-kept promises and honest eyes,

of things that last and things that are allowed to be let go.

5 years since you welcomed your first child into your arms

and 3 since you welcomed your second; all beaming smiles and dimples just like her daddy;

and it’s been 12 months since your belly started growing with your third.

as you look down at the sleeping baby in your husband’s arms, every severed string of the past melts into one.

you smile at the boy from the coffee shop.

he smiles back, and soobin has all he’s ever wanted, because he has you —

because finally the smile reaches your eyes,

and he’s home.

[kykyonthemoon]

If it’s not too much, could I ask for the Love and Deepspace boys who accidentally hurt the (if you could gn) reader’s feelings? (They argued and they were wrong but lashed out either way sorta thing?) if not, completely understandable! Tysm!

The Hurts

Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.

🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x Reader Tags: gn!reader, hurt/ comfort, angst A/N: I can't see our LIs to be the type to lash out at their loved ones, so I modify the request a bit. Thank you for requesting, anon-san. Hope you enjoy this story.

Masterlist

Request a fic

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.

You had given him so many chances, and what you got in return was being hurt over and over again.

Like sitting on a never-ending roller coaster, that's the feeling when you were with him.

He made you happy, he made you sad. He gave you surprises and he also shattered many of your dreams.

Then, you had enough.

You trudged back home with heavy steps after a difficult mission. Blood drenched your uniform. The blood of Wanderers, and the blood of your comrades. The mission was a complete failure. There were a lot of people injured, and it was completely your fault.

Because you trusted someone who shouldn't have been trusted.

Rafayel was standing on an empty street corner, waiting for you. He knew you would always take the same route home. You were too predictable, that was why he played with you like a toy.

You grit your teeth. You and Rafayel each held one end of the rubber band. But he was always the first to let go.

It hurt, the feeling of being betrayed hurt so much. But you still kept walking. You did not want him to see you miserable like that. You would not give him the opportunity to trample on your feelings and trust anymore.

Rafayel's dark eyes gazed at you. You saw scales sprouting out from his face and neck. That was the day when Lemurians were at their weakest.

Nevertheless, he made the decision to stand here and wait for you to come home. As soon as he had heard the news from his spies, he immediately ran to find you even though he was in his weakest state. You stopped moving when you were just close enough away from him, to look straight into his eyes with full of indignation.

“I will explain everything.” Rafayel spoke up. And he should, but you were sick of it by now.

“That's enough, Rafayel.” You cut him off before he could say anything else. “You've said enough.”

You trusted his intelligence, only to lead your comrades into a trap. He always took advantage of your absolute trust to hurt you and the people you cared about. Especially when there was something related to the Lemurians, he suddenly became a different person. Someone you did not know.

“Your secrets…” You said, “Just keep them to yourself… I think I've had enough of your lies.”

"I did not lie." Rafayel reached out towards you but you backed away. “Everything I told you about that operation was true. I simply…”

“You simply didn't tell me the whole truth.” You said bitterly.

Rafayel withdrew his hand. He appeared so frail that he may pass out at any time at the side of the road. This time, you would not care as much. You would just leave him be.

“You showed concern for me, then you left me alone. You helped me, then pushed me into a trap... What is real, Rafayel? What is the truth that ever comes out of your mouth?”

Rafayel was silent, staring at you with pain. What an excellent performance. You almost believed him, one more time.

“What are you going to do, then? You could kill me with just one blow right now.”

“Don't challenge me.” You threatened with a glare. You hurried past Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to get home and clean off all the blood on your body and calm yourself down. Yet, despite his extreme weakness, he still has the ability to draw you in. Your eyes met his sadness. In an instant, it seemed as though you had descended to the ocean's lowest point.

“You asked me what was true.” He said, his voice shaking. “You may not believe anything else I say… But this, this alone is the truth… I will never, ever let anyone hurt you… I will never lose you again…”

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You stood in front of Xavier's house waiting impatiently. As soon as the door opened, you immediately rushed inside without even saying hello.

“Is there anything wrong?” Xavier asked gently, but his innocent look made you even more angry.

“You crossed me out of that mission, didn’t you?” You replied in anger. There were several rolled-up reports in your palm, ready to be torn apart. You aimed it in his direction. “This was originally the mission assigned to me! Why did you request to do it on your own?”

Xavier saw the problem as soon as he glanced at those papers. He tried to explain:

“That mission is too dangerous. I can't let you do it by yourself.”

“Then would it be better if you went alone?”

You gave Xavier a glance. He was trying to calm you down, but every step he took closer you moved further away. You were upset because he decided to enter a risky area without you, maybe endangering his life, and you were unaware of it until everything had been taken care of. Even with you by his side, he carried the weight of everything by himself. You did not want that, because you felt compelled to share everything with him.

"I'm sorry." Xavier was honest with you. “I should have asked you first. I decided on my own because I thought it was the best thing for you.”

“What's best for me?” You retorted. “Do you even know what is good for me? To participate in my own mission, to decide to do things as I wish, or to fight by your side!”

Only silence covered the room. You collapsed into his couch, burrowing your face into your hands. You hated this feeling of helplessness. He took away your right to make decisions, your right to accompany him on this dangerous mission. The thought that he did not need you was so painful.

“You don't believe in me…” You spoke up after a long while. When you looked up, you saw that Xavier was still standing there, looking regretful and helpless because he was unable to touch you at the time. “I thought we were a team. If we're a team, we won't hide missions from each other, we won't sneak around alone behind the other person's back..."

“I'm really sorry. That mission is much more dangerous than area N109. I can't let you risk it.”

“That means if you had to choose again, you would still do the same and hide it from me, right?”

Xavier remained silent, but you already knew the answer.

You did not know what hurt more; Xavier hiding that mission from you, or he not trusting you could complete it?

You got to your feet, looked at Xavier, and proceeded to the door.

"I truly put in a lot of training to be in a team with you. But maybe that's not enough. If you think you can do it all by yourself then so be it, I don't see the need to stay here anymore.”

"Don't." Xavier seized your hand fast to hold you there. “Don't say such things…”

You drew away from him fiercely. Xavier let out a cry and embraced his left chest at that very time.

It appeared like he was hurt. You scowled and extended a hand to touch him.

“Are you injured?”

Xavier tried to smile, but his face gradually turned pale. He took that opportunity to pull you back and wrap an arm around your waist to keep you in place.

“It's only a little cut.”

“How can it be small when you look so painful?”

Xavier struggled to breathe. He replied:

"I'm sorry. Maybe it's true that I couldn't do that task alone. You were right. We are a team, I need you.”

You feel pleased, but still very angry with Xavier. It was because he chose to go alone that he got injured like that.

“From now on, I will definitely not hide anything from you anymore. So… don't leave me alone, okay?”

You were silent for a while, but wrapped your arms around Xavier to hug him. “I have to check your wound first.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

The more you care for someone else, the deeper the wound they cause you.

It had been a month since you could contact him. Just like that, he disappeared, again.

You were frightened. Just like when you were a child, suddenly one day, the friend who used to make snow seals for you disappeared without a trace. No one could hear about him. He had also covertly assigned your monthly health check to another physician without you knowing until you got to the hospital. The last time you had heard about him was when Dr. Greyson told you he were rushing off to the Arctic on urgent business.

How funny it was to learn that from someone other than him. No farewells, no assurances not to worry. And for an entire month, he was absent. Although you didn't have the authority to make him tell you his schedules, at least you wanted to know how long he was going to be gone and whether or not the mission was risky.

You grew more afraid and then angered as you considered him going missing once more. How could he do this to you, after everything you had been through together? Yet he dared to show his face to your house on a rainy night.

When he saw that you were covering yourself from the rain with your jacket, he moved forward to shield you. But you dashed over to the porch. You just looked at him from a distance, but near enough to see that he was alright. After that, you entered and slammed the door in his face.

Not a word was said to each other. He did not even call your name or send a text message. He stood in the pouring rain for a long, long time. You couldn't care less. That night you went to sleep fitfully, and when you woke up the next morning, your auntie neighbor told you that he had just departed a short while after your room's light went out.

You did not try to contact him again. This cold war was initiated by him, so let it be. It was now a week after his return, and you had to go to the hospital for a check-up before an important mission. When you saw the name of the physician assigned to you was Zayne, you requested for another.

Dr. Greyson found you in the waiting area. He asked about your refusal to let Zayne examine your health. Honestly, you could not find any reason to answer that wasn't too personal. So you just sat in silence.

“The first thing Zayne did when he got back was to read your files. He wanted to make sure you were fine while he was gone.”

Dr. Greyson said. You lowered your head and looked down at your clasped hands, experiencing a range of conflicting feelings.

“I don't know what happened between you two, and maybe it's none of my business, but Zayne is a friend, and I need to butt in just this once…”

You looked up at Dr. Greyson.

“Zayne went to the Arctic to seek assistance from his teacher. Things got worse as it became more and more difficult for him to control his Evol. I caught him injuring himself with his Evol. He made the decision to suffer alone until things got in control in order to protect others.”

You were shocked. Zayne had been suffering because of his Evol for the past month without you knowing, while you were blaming him for leaving you.

"Perhaps he refrained from telling you out of concern that you would worry and accompany him there."

The rest of the conversation drifted away. Then you stood up, tried to hold back your tears as you walked to Zayne's office. He sat behind the computer screen, looking up at you with mixed emotions in his eyes, although his face still remained calm.

You entered slowly, noted the scars on his hands. There were fresh cuts that were not yet healed. He must have been very hurt and lonely. What must you do to make him open up to you? What must you do so that you can share the burden with him?

“You… What's wrong?”

As soon as Zayne spoke, you hid your tears by walking towards him in a haste and pulled him into your embrace.

“Please don't go without a word... I won't be able to bear it if you disappear again..."

[amphitriteswife]

Savior

Source: lookism chapter 526

Pairing: child Jonggun x Child reader

Warnings: forced child marriage, bad home situation.

Genre: angst

Note: sorry that it’s so long😭 and i might make a pt2

Do not read if you’re uncomfortable with any of these themes

.

.

.

‘Hi. We’re engaged by the way.’ Meeting you for the first time was quite the experience. Jonggun himself often found himself thinking as to why he was engaged in the first place, and why it was with you. Most of the time you didn’t have any filter and simply only did things for your own amusement, he had never been to your estate before in northern Japan. At first he thought you were annoying and sassy, but over time you became the only person to actually reach out to spent time for him. Not because he needed to do something but simply because you wanted to see him. Jonggun found himself enjoying your company, in a way you reminded him of Haruto. He felt like he could say anything without getting punished for it. With you he could feel a sense of freedom, even if it was just a little. You had been wanting to reach out or pay a visit after it had been revealed that some of the smaller clans had been wanting to overthrow Shingen, but Jonggun jad advised you to stay put for a while and wait until he reached out first. So you had been waiting..and waiting…

‘They want to kill me.’ You had waited for a signal from Jonggun, but seeing him in a state of panic and desperation wasn’t something you’d thought you’ll see. ‘What are you talking about?’ You asked him, trying to move your way out of the guards grasp. ‘My lady, if they find out you’re even in contact with the young master you’ll be in danger too! The headmaster has given us orders to not let you get through.’ The news of Shingen passed away as the headmaster of the Yamazaki clan was big news, even reaching the streets of northern Japan, but even so. What did the death of Shingen have to do with them trying to kill Jonggun? And to add up to the problem, the fact you were now in contact with Jonggun brought your own clan in danger. There was a lot at stake in this situation, and the Yamazaki’s are fast. Who knows when they find out that Jonggun had been in contact with you? You’d probably be one of their high suspects too. You couldn’t help but contemplate the situation carefully, your eyes casting downwards onto the floor. The best course of action was to cut ties with him, it was the best and effective way in order to protect your family…but what about him? He never had someone to fall back into, he just lose his father who had shown him just a fraction of love he winked so hard for, his mom is now with his uncle and they’re trying you get rid of him… ‘buy me some time.’ You told the guards sternly, it was against the wishes of your own father.. someone who sold you to the Yamazaki clan in the first place to clean up his own went doings against them in the past. Both guards hesitate for a moment they weren’t exactly keen on letting you put yourself and the family in danger, but at the same time it was no surprise of you felt for the young master. Well…the now dethroned young master.

Finally the two guards let you go. Only with the promise to not do anything reckless and not be out too long as the headmaster would get suspicious. Taking Jonggun’s hand you let him to a secret part of the garden, one where the camera’s couldn’t quite catch you yet. Jonggun followed you closely, his eyes looking to the grass. It had been a long time since he smelled the scent of fresh grass and plants, it took him a long way to come here all the way to the estate. Yet he couldn’t help but feel selfish. He was putting you in danger. He didn’t want that, he didn’t want you to suffer because of him. He hated making you feel like this, but ultimately he also hated the fact he was the one to cause this in the first place. ‘Tell me everything.’ You whispered to him, the newspaper only revealed the ‘passing’ of Shingen and nothing else, not why Jonggun is on the run. Jonggun hesitated a lot, but eventually spilled everything to you, how his dad passed and the fact that Shintaro was now the headmaster…as well that his dad seemed to care about him after all. From the way he spoke it was clear that his head wasn’t used to parental love and couldn’t understand why Shingen tried to save him instead of himself. It disheartened you to realize the fact how he hasn’t felt love ever since he was brought into this world, the concept of love itself seemed foreign to him. After hearing all of the things that happend you hugged him very tightly, your arms wrapped around his torso that was clothed with a hoodie. He never wore hoodies before not matter how cold it got. ‘I’ll help you okay? Try not to get caught, i’ll find sometimes. I promise.’ You told him, hugging him even tighter. Jonggun seemed se be stunned by the hug and didn’t really hug you back. Only after a little while did his arms droop over your form and did he lay his head on your shoulder. ‘Please don’t go..’ it was a soft and rather pleading sound, never in a million years did you expect him to utter such words much less in such a tone. ‘I’m not going to abandon you, don’t worry-’ ‘Miss! The headmaster is searching for you!’ The moment was cut off by the whisper like yelling from the guards. Eager to make sure no one got in trouble you gave Jonggun a quick kiss on his cheek, his cheek was cold and a little wet from the watered plants. He put a hand on his cheek where you kissed him and looked at you. ‘I’ll be back.’ You gave him a quick nod before quickly coming out of the bushes to ease the situation…yet when you returned, Jonggun had vanished from where the two of you had met earlier

It took you quite the convincing each time of your father to actually let you go outside since the Yamazaki’s had actually reinforced their watchful eyes on you. During one of the times you once again roamed the streets of the underworld the smell of smoke filled your nostrils. Was this what Jonggun saw before he arrived at your estate? This wasn’t living. The amount of teenagers here was surprising but you couldn’t help but think that most have their reasons for being here or turning to this kind of lifestyle. After having searched the area where Jonggun was supposedly to help last seen you let out a sigh and turned to walk back where you originally came from, only to hear the faint familiar voice of someone. ‘Are you searching for my son?’ Somi park questioned you, her voice was flat and stern, no emotions regarding the situation for her son or you…or herself. Her eyes didn’t hold any emotion nor light in them either. You didn’t answer her and instead brazed yourself of the possibility of the man next to her doing something to you. ‘He’s not here.’ The man beside her told you, lighting up a cigarette placed in between his teeth. ‘But if you’re fast enough, you might just find him in time when you arrive in Korea.’ So he went to Korea?..you felt a mix of emotions. You were glad that he was finally going to be save and able to start again. But at the same time…you never got to say goodbye. He didn’t even tell you that he was leaving the country….you would’ve gone with him if he asked you, no hesitation. One could argue that you the both of you didn’t have anything to lose but that was simply not true. Perhaps he didn’t. But for you everything was at stake…because he was your everything…

Thank you for reading 😔🙏

[vlassk]

Keeper

Stanford Pines x Reader

She/ her Reader

After learning of Stanleys past with Ford y/n, she decided she wouldn't be getting close to the twin. But she finds it difficult as Ford is just so damn cute.

Warning: age gap, angst, 18+ later on. Swearing. Pervy Ford(lmk if i missed any) not proofread as i no no wanna

You had lived in Gravity Falls for a couple of years now. Stumbling upon it, one winter road trip and falling in love with the beauty. As the years went on, you made good friends, including one neighbor. Stanford Pines was always one person you could talk to about the supernatural. Although he liked to pretend it wasn't real or not as big of a deal, he would always hear you out on your discovery in the town.

You being in your early 30s, the friendship was awkward at first. You saw the faces around town from friends and passer bys. But as time went on, people saw that it was simply platonic.

You spend most of your free time helping him around the house and grabbing food together. He told you about his time in prison and everything about his brother Stanley...

You would linger on his brother. Knowing how horrible he treated Stan and how he would never hear Stan out. Being the Better Brother. The days were good. You ran a local Inn a little out of town. The primary owner would travel most of the time.

One summer though The lnn that you ran shut down. And your manager had to let you go.

"Ughhh, what im i going to do! My place of living! My job!" You slam your head on the table, a loud thud being heard

"Kid, why dont you just ask your parents for some help? Im sure they will under -" Stan lifted up your head to place a small pillow under your face.

"No! Do you know how disappointed they will be?! YEARS of Tuistion for West Coast Tech just to run an Inn?! In a small town! Stan...stanford pines they would kill me and bring me back home..." You plead out looking up only to cry more and slam your head back down, the pillow guarding you.

" y/n you haven't told them?!" Stan yells out, only making you cry more. He paces the room and looks towards you. His frustration leaves when an idea pops into his head.

He sits next to you at the table

"Ya know.. my great niece and nephew are visiting once summer. Break starts...ill need someone to watch the store, maybe evenbuild some cool robot stuff for the shop! Ya know, wendy likes, so take her days off... you could even stay here in the storage closet..." He lays his hand on your back.

Your breathing slows as you look up at Stan.

"Really..." You wipe your tears away, going to hug the old man.

"But you gatta tell your parents at least"

"Fine..."

A couple of months had passed, and you were now a normal part of the household. Mable and Dipper always took you on adventures. You never realized how many crazy creatures were around. You would always come home and help stan though, building him add ons to his favorite chair, making animotronics for the shack. You know things were going wrong when the Fbi arrested Stanford. You remember looking at him as he was taken away. A sad look on your eyes.

" y/n, please. Its not true they dont know what they are talking about!"

You didn't say anything. You didn't know what to say.

You looked over the kids, trying to prove his innocence when they found a code for the vending machine. Soos stood in the way of the machine, and mable threw glitter at him to make him move.

As you made your way into the basement, you could only think of the worst things.

What if he wasn't really Stanford. What if he was someone else. What if everything was a lie like they say. Are you even safe.

You hold onto Mables hand as Soos led the way. Once you get to the bottom, you see all the tech Mable goes on about how Stans is the same man and he loves us. All you can think about is all the tips you gave Stanford on how to fix or build different things. Dipper finds the 2 journals putting all 3 together to see the blueprints of something.

You only look at the basements, build, scan the area, hear Dipper Freak out, but your mind races, and you can't focus on his words. You look at the countdown reading 1 minute. Dipper and mable run into the next room. Turning keys. The strange Build glows. Before Dipper can press the shutdown button Stan runs in

"Dont touch that button!"

You turn to see Stan walking through the door, picking up his pace to you all.

"Dipper, just back away! Please dont press that button, you gatta, trust me!" Stan pleads. Slowing as he sees that Dippers hand is hovering over the red button.

"I should trust you. Why?!. After you stole that radioactive waste?! After you lied to us ALL summer?! I dont even know who you are!"

"I know all this is nuts, but i need that machine to stay on!" A beep is heard after Stans pleads. You start to float up with the rest as the triangle structure opens up. A space like portal opens

"STANFORD?!" You scream out. trying to reach for your friend.

"Dipper!" Mable screams, her foot caught on a wire holding her close to the button

"MABLE HURRY SHUT IT DOWN," Dipper screams out from across the room.

"Stan, why wouldn't you tell me?!" You cry out. Your hair floating around you.

"Kid...i couldn't. I didn't know how!"

As mable crawls her way down stan tries to float towards her, soos swooping in to tackle stan

"Soos, what are you doing?!i gave you an order." Stan struggles between Soos

"Sorry Mrs pines if that is your real name, but i have a new job now! Protecting these kids!" Soos tries to push him away from Mable.

"Soos, you idiot let me go!" Stan continues to reach out. You kept floating. trying to go back down.

Dipper goes to tackle stan as well. You find a way to get to mable holding her down as you both hover over the button.

As Stanley pleads with you both, you see mable tear up.

"Grunkle Stan,"Mable says between tears. "i don't even know, if you're my grunkle! I wanna believe you, but"

"Then listen to me. Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?" Stan breaks from Dipper and Soos.

The computer reads 20 seconds. A power surges through making you float away from mable. You hit the roof of the. Building,The others fly against the rooms walls.

" I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of them are true, but trust me. Everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!"

"Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!" Dipper cries out.

Mable looks up to see you, floating closer to the portal. You glanse back at stans pleading with your eyes. Stan gives you a nod.Mable watches as you close your eyes. Relaxing your body

"Look into my eyes, Mabel! Do you really think I'm a bad guy?"

" He's lying! Shut it down NOW!"

"Mable please"

Ten Nine

"Grunkle stan"

Six five

"I trust you"

"MABEL, ARE YOU CRAZY?! WE'RE ALL GONNA-"

Mable lets go floating up to grab onto your leg. Pulling you closer and away from going through the portal.

One...

Screams are heard as a light blast blows up.

The light shooting through the whole town.

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a figure in front of the portal

"...stan..." You pull your head up from the ground

"What who is that?" Dipper stands

"The author of the journals..." Stanford also stands up.

You see, the man pulls off his goggles, revealing a face just like stans. He looks down at you. As you slowly sit yourself up. You're the closest one to him.

"My brother..." Stan sighs

"Is the the part where one of us faints.." mable giggles

"Ohoho, I am so on it, dude" soos faints on cue. Falling to the floor.

"Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you're actually here! Brother!"

You watch as the man you're assuming Stanley walks up and punches Stanford.

"This was an insanely risky move – restarting the portal! Didn't you read my warnings?!"

"Warnings, schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?"

"Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you DID, THIRTY YEARS AGO?!"

"What I did? Why, you ungrateful...

Stanley pins Stanfords arms. As they bicker, the man slams him on the ground. "

"Get off him, you asshole," you shove Stanley off Stanford. Mable stands next to you

"Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question – WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

"Stan, you didn't tell me there were children down here... And some sort of large, hairless gopher? And... uh, " you see the mans eyes dart from top to bottom, then back to the top.

"A woman..."

"Heh heh. I get that a lot." You laugh at Soos. As he smiles back at you. You watch as Stan eyes you. Wondering what thoughts he could be having.

"They're your family, Poindexter. Shermie's grandkids." Stanford rolls his eyes.

"I-I have a niece and nephew? Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time."

He bends down to shake mables hand

"Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full finger friendlier than normal!"

"Heha, I like this kid. She's weird."

"And you are?" He extends his hand to you. You ignore it and turn away.

"A friend of Stans..."

Stanley Huffs turning back around

"I-I can't believe it. You're the author of the journals!" Dipper fanboys

"You've read my journals?"

You don't listen to the conversation, but you help Stanford up. He thanks you as he stands. You see stanley eyeing you both out of the corner of your eyes. You dart your eyes towards him, making him look off.

"Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?" Mable sits back down on some rubble.

"Yes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley." The man walks over ignoring you to the next if his abilities

"Stanley..."dipper puts a finger to his chin

"But your name is stanford..." mable questions

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You leap forward at stan, soos catching you

"Wait, you took my name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!"

"Yeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies! You owe us some answers – What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" Dipper exclaims.

"And what happened between you and your brother?" Maybe points at stan angered.

"Im hoping all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan. If not, I will be very disappointed."

You stop struggling against soos. Only to pause and give him a confused look.

"Stanf-...stanley why do you keep lying to me?!" You plead with the old man

"Kid listen... i did what i had to do"

"No. I won't accept that. Tell me why. Was everything about Him even true? " You point to the other man.

The now understood Stanley sighs. I looked up from his brows.

"Everything about HIM is correct. I just switched the names..." he shrugs. With another sigh, he leans against the wall, telling the tale of the two brothers.

As they both took turns telling their upbringing, you couldn't help but watch the twin. He would smile at the good times, and you would catch him watching you as well.

You had to admit he was handsome. You never saw Stan in a way, but Stanford was totally different even with the same face.

If you, too, matched eyes, you would simply roll them and look away. Even though you were curious about this handsome man.

"Oh! This story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's comin' in the station. HUGAPOLOOZA! 2000!" Mable triez to push the men together.

"Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here. "

"I already know all this..." You walk off sitting in the room where the portal once was. You could still hear the conversation. Noting again at the Dream school Stanford wanted to go to... but couldn't. You burrowed your face in your legs. Conflicted, you never thought you'd meet him. You were so angry at all the things he did to your friend. But knowing everything and knowing he's alive. Could you be nicer to him?

You hear a Scream and turn to look at the room, dipper fan boys over the journals.

"just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking."

"I began to keep a journal..."

Dipper screams again. You walk into the room staring at the child. He looks up at you and calms himself down.

"Just going to ignore that..."

He goes on you decide to sit back in the room with the others.

As they retell the fight, you can't help but stare at Stanford. Aggravated at every word he says.

He pauses for a moment. Staring just as intensely

"What is your problem?" Stanford exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"You... you are my problem. you're dangerous. " he looks shocked at your words. And leans back a bit, not knowing what to say.The story finishes as the agents from upstairs get closer. Stanford makes a plan. Telling everyone to stay put as he travels upstairs.

Mable hears the agents leave and runs upstairs with your protest

"Great-uncle Stanford, that was amazing!"

"Let's not go crazy; it was serviceable."

"Thank you, kids, but please, call me Ford."

You stand on the porch. Watching the kids talk to Ford. You catch glimses of him looking at you. Your heart beats faster when he does. Is this anger? You're not nervous..are you?Stan pushes the kids off to bed. He turns to look at you. He mouths out 'stay'. You fix your posture, waiting to wave the kids off while they go inside. Saying a goodbye to Soos and moving towards Stan.

You punch Stans arm

"Ouch why me?!"

"That's for lying to me, you big idiot! Dont do that again!"You furrow your eyebrows. Stan frowns, rubbing his arm. You go in for a hug. Letting go just as fast and looking at Ford.

"So...who are you agai-" you cut him off by slapping him. Both stan and fords face in shock.

" That's for building such a STUPID machine... and hurting my friend!"

Stan begins to laugh. Resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Who even are you?!" The man shouts, angerly walking towards the house. The sun is going down.

" haha shes a keeper! Now Y/n go to bed. I gatta catch up with this man..."

"What's the point of me staying behind?"You shrug your shoulders. Pushing the old man slightly a small okay left your lips.

"No hard feelings, old man?" You smile and walk away, turning around to point finger guns at both men, going into the house and upstairs to your room.

"Old man? Rude, " Ford says under his breath

The two men head in as well. I'm sitting at the table to talk. Catching up on the little things

"Nothing so bad, ya know... people come and go...?"

"Hmm...and that women you keep around?"

"Huh? Women? Haha, that's Y/n. She's a good friend.."

"Just friend?"

"Of course! She's a good kid. Takes care of Dipper and Mable and always makes great adjustments to her past works. " Stan leans back in his chair, talking about you normally

"Past works? What does that even mean" Ford questions.

"Ah, she's a graduate of West Coast tech... some phds in some stuff i dont really pay attention. But she makes awesome stuff. Let me tell ya, " Stan points to a few things you've improved or added.

"Wait, she went to WCT?? Wait, why is she here with you?" Ford laughs still in shock of your success.

"She's been a friend of mine for a while now. She used to work at an Inn that closed down, so i gave her a place to work and sleep. Listen, i felt bad leaving her alone. She needed someone"

"Interesting... " fords mind goes off. Picturing you again. How angry you looked at him, the disappointment when you would stare. But how beautiful you are. How every time you looked at him with hate or pity, all he could see was the opposite.

"I know that look,"Stan leans forward

"What look?" Ford looks away at anything but his brother.

"That look... you stay away from her..." stans eyebrows furrow. His fist on the table

"I dont even know what you're talking about." Ford looks away again, and this finds his head resting on his hand.

"Stay. Away." Stanley gets up.

"But... I'm happy you're home," he holds his hand out. Ford takes it, and they get up to go to bed. Stopping by the bathroom for one last conversation, you can't help but too listen in on.

[bboricha]

rule breaker

➳ 🚫 mdni ➳ pairings: college!scaramouche x afab!reader ➳ synopsis: you cannot believe that he convinced you to do this. fucking in the library again, you mean. part 1 (both can be read as standalone pieces) ➳ wc: ~700 ➳ cw: not proofread, exhibitionism, unprotected, scara has a tongue piercing, he's referred to as "kuni," lmk if i missed anything

you told him that last time this happened, it would be the only time and now look at you. sitting on his lap, hugging him close to yourself so that anyone walking by would simply write the two of you off as an overly expressive couple displaying PDA. though, it would take just a little bit of interest for anybody to realize that he’s slightly thrusting up, fucking his girthy length into your cunt as you quietly whine against his neck. a little bit of interest just to take a look at your face and see the hearts and stars fluttering over your eyes as you use his shirt to muffle your sounds.

it wasn’t your fault! you couldn’t help it! especially not when he suspiciously sat next to you and placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing the flesh and slowly moving upwards and under your skirt, playing with the hem of your panties until his hand happened to slip under. and especially not when he starts rolling your clit against the tips of his fingers, dipping another finger into your dampening hole. and when he starts abusing that gummy part that he knows you love? you just simply cannot be blamed for falling for his capable fingers and antics yet once again.

you know that the chances of someone coming to the corner where your table sat between old documents and boring manuscripts laced with dust were practically zero to none, but your heart can’t help but thump every time you hear a noise coming from somewhere other than the two of you. it was hard to stay focused on someone catching you both though, kuni made sure to keep your attention on him. he’d kiss you, nip at your neck, tease your nipples, flick your clit, or give a particularly hard thrust that almost makes you squeal. you can’t tell if that’s just him being needy or telling you that it’ll be fine and to look at him instead, but regardless it makes your heart thump in a different kind of way.

“i’m not sure what you like the best—you seem to tighten up at everything i do,” he laughs breathily. you flush at the bluntness of his words, about to pull away from the hug until he removes his hands from your hips to hug you back instead, keeping you in place. you’re about to protest when you hear voices nearing and you freeze. he puts your head down against his shoulder, holding it there when you hear footsteps quickly passing by your heart racing a mile a minute. you squeeze against him at the sound as he softly grunts in response. the footsteps are now fading and you cautiously lift your head, scoping the area to make sure the both of you are alone again.

“i really think you have a preference for this,” he smirks and you hit him.

“i swear this is really the last time we’re doing this,” you hiss, about to open your mouth again to argue more until he kisses you, shutting you up promptly. you haven’t even noticed him taking off his glasses to do so, the thought immediately interrupted by the feeling of his piercing against your own tongue. thrusting again, you moan into his mouth. he’s right, honestly. the thrill is almost irreplaceable, but you’d rather go celibate for the rest of your life than to admit that to him out of all people. all of a sudden, kuni grinds against you as you bite back a whine, clutching onto his sweater to ground yourself.

“baby,” he groans out, his voice is raspy and the sudden use of a pet name makes your cunt throb, “it’d be in your best interest to keep your eyes on me.” his thrusts are getting sloppy as he brings a hand towards your clit, rubbing fast figure eights against it. you can feel the coil in your stomach winding so much that it’s close to snapping, the sensation making it harder to contain your noises.

“where?” he asks, his pace unrelenting as you recklessly mutter “inside,” pulling his face close to yours to pull him into another kiss. he gives one last flick to your clit, making the coil snap as you convulse around his cock. holding you down against him, he releases his warmth inside of you, groaning against your neck. he breathes heavily into your shirt as you both come down from your highs quietly. you’re thinking about how to run to the bathroom to clean yourself up before anything could leak out until he opens up his dumb mouth asking,

“wanna go again?”

➳ an: inspired instantly by this. thank you to this artist for this. thank you. he is so fine. i do not know how to act.

[myloveoffandoms]

One More Thing

Warnings: Age gaps? (reader mid 20s then all the dads of the show lol) I don't think anything else? Horrible grammar sorry.

Parings: Negan Smith x Y/N, Daryl Dixon x Y/N, Rick Grimes x Y/N

Summary: When Negan visits Alexandria for the first time and he plans on taking one last thing before he leaves.

Notes: Cleaning out my word docs. I have no clue what this is?? Only re-read once for editing.

Word count: 1.1k approx

Credit for divider: @Baexywth

“Well, well and who do we have here?” A man standing slightly infront of Rick sings out. I’ve assumed his name is Negan. After recent events. I look away from where people- his people were throwing random items from our homes into the street.

I make eye contact with him, unsure who he was speaking to. I glance around searching to see if he was in fact speaking to me or someone else.

“Cat got your tongue?” Negan asks his smile easing ever so slightly. He maybe evil but the salt and pepper beard and green eyes made him immensely attractive.

I eye him up and down for a moment, clearly taking too long when Rick speaks up. “That’s —”

“No! Rick. I’m speaking to her.” Negan cuts him off. He eyes me like I’m a meal, something he wants to devour. I shift slightly on my feet.

I wait one more moment seeing his smirk almost fade from his face before I answer. “It’s y/n” I say simply.

“What a pretty name, for a fine-looking woman.” He speaks low with a newfound smirk.

I glance once at Rick, then once to Daryl. Daryl looking the worst I’ve seen. I didn’t want to look away, but my instincts told me not to linger. I looked each one of Negan’s men in the eye before finally landing back to him.

“Not a woman of many words I see”

I don’t react just continue to hold his gaze.  “Now if you don’t stop looking at me like that… We might just have to go somewhere… more private” His expression almost darkening at the comment. I scolded myself mentally for shifting at the comment. I didn’t want him to see me nervous, weak.

Ricks hand tightens around the bat he holds, his knuckles almost white.

I roll my eyes mentally for I was about to play into this man’s games.

“Excuse my… rude welcome. I don’t tend to play well with strangers.” I smile lightly. I intertwine my hands in front of me. More so to hold something and not show anger or nervousness.

He smiles brightly at my comment.  “Oh my, do you hear that? A voice as sweet as honey!” He walks closer to me. “You, will be joining us.” He eye’s me up and down once more.

I eye Rick for a moment. Unsure of what to do.

“Walk on this side of me darlin’.” His hand gestures to the opposite side of Rick.  I look at Daryl as I walk to Negan’s side. Daryl looks at me once then quickly back to the ground.

I wanted to run and hug him. Tell him he will be okay, but I can’t. Not without Negan knowing how close I am to certain people. Something in me is telling me to hide it.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Sometime passed as we walked around, Alexandria. Negan mainly speaking to Rick but having small conversation with me from time to time.

“So, how did a pretty young thing like you end up at Ricks Camp?” Negan asks.

I always loved being referred to as an object. “I’m not a thing.” I turn to look at him.

He stops and looks at me tilting his head ever so slightly. “My bad darlin’. How did a pretty, young woman end up at Ricks camp?” He rephrased.

“Walkers attacked, he found me. Helped me out and well here I am.” I say holding my arms out for a moment. Locking eyes with Rick. I would never say it to him but how he stood right now was the most docile and weak I had ever seen him. Negan watches me for a moment.

“Ahh, Rick. Didn’t know you were the type to save a damsel in destress.” He laughs out. Grabbing Ricks shoulder “Or was it just cause she’s hot?” He says loud enough for others to hear but into Ricks ear as if a secret conversation. Rick tenses at the comment. Holding Negan’s stare.

“I’m not one to judge but she’s a little young for ya Rick.”

“No” I start to speak. “I mean, it’s not like that.”

“Oh, and how exactly is it?” Negan turns and questions me. I look to his jacket, the belt at the bottom, the leather all still intact. I like it, if he dies I want it.

“I mean… He sees me as a sister or friend… not… anything else.” Hell for all I knew Rick seen me as a child, but that was a fact I wasn’t willing to admit to myself. Negan laughs at me more of a chuckle then a full belly laugh.

“Oh, Darlin’…” He is cut off by a commotion that takes his attention. Although fear goes through me that he will hurt someone else. I’m thankful for the conversation to come to an abrupt end.

Did I find Rick attractive? Yes. Did I find Daryl attractive? Yes. Are both men old enough to be my father? Also, yes. Negan was good at telling when someone was lying, and I did not want to admit I had any attraction to older men. Especially Rick and Daryl.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Negan’s men were filling up the last of the goods they planned on taking from us. Daryl had been put in the back of a truck. I was no longer able to see him. I could feel my heart break when he didn’t respond to the asinine request of pleading his case to stay.

“Oh, and Rick… she comes with us.” My heart drops for a split second it feels like I’m in a free fall.  He can’t mean… I look between Negan and Rick.

“She—” Ricks eyes pleading.

“Now.. consider it a gift. I’m making it one less mouth for you to feed.” Negan states sternly.

“She’s an asset—” Rick attempts once more.

“I said! She comes with me, or do I need to teach another lesson?” His tone signifies there is no room for debate and although asking a question, his demeanour tells its rhetorical.

“Stop… I’ll go…” I step closer to the two men. I didn’t want to leave, this had become home but I knew I needed to do my part, and right now that meant going with him to keep the peace.

“Y/n” It’s a whisper. Rick wants to argue, but even I know he won’t fight Negan.

“I’ll be okay…” I say quietly looking at Rick once more before going over to Negan.

“Now, that’s a girl.” Negan smiles triumphantly as I stand beside him. “You’re riding with me sweetheart.” I look to the truck and see Negan opening a door, waiting for me to get in. I look over my shoulder one last time and then climb inside the cab.

A/N: no sweet clue what this is...

[chrysalind]

sweet and sour

pairing: suna rintarou x reader wc: 880 tags: fluff, fake dating, (real) jealousy, party setting ofc, reader wears makeup and is shorter than suna

Sometime last Wednesday, Suna Rintarou had discovered inner peace.

It had been after his last linear algebra exam, during his third consecutive hour of mourning, when it finally occurred to him that it didn't matter. Of course, it mattered in the sense that it would affect his GPA, and as a result, his job prospects, career, ability to be approved for a mortgage and become a homeowner, and of course his retirement. But in a more 'in the moment' sense, it didn't matter at all.

This was because, he'd rationalized, it had already happened and there was no use agonizing over it after the fact. And so, for a few short days, Suna abided by the belief that if he couldn't change something, he simply wouldn't bring himself to care about it.

So when you drag him into the tiny bathroom of someone's apartment with a swipe of glitter under your left eye and a frazzled expression on your pretty face, Suna is fully prepared to put his new philosophy into action.

The door shuts behind you, muffling the din of music and people and he tries not to think about how precariously close your drink is to the edge of the sink when you set it down.

"I need a favour," you begin, wringing your wrists as he tries not to fall backwards into the shower. It is, in fact, a very tiny bathroom.

"Nah," he replies, managing to right himself against the towel rack.

"'Nah'?" you repeat, jutting out your bottom lip. "But you don't even know what I'm going to ask."

He rationalizes that it can't be anything worth putting in the effort for. Therefore would it even make sense for him to hear you out? He thinks not.

However, as he eyes the door behind you, your face bobs into view, obstructing his path to escape.

"Please," you whine, dropping down from a tippy toe. "Just hear me out."

He glances once at his reflection in the mirror before his gaze slides up to the ugly white light on the ceiling.

"Fine."

"Yes," you exclaim, your elbow narrowly missing the cup. Suna looks away.

"Okay, so my ex is here with his new girlfriend," you begin, your hands moving fast, "and so I would really, really be so grateful if you could maybe, possibly, pretend that we're together."

He blinks. "Nah."

Your face falls. "But I'm gonna look like a loser out there."

He wonders if the glitter is supposed to draw attention to your eyes. If so, why just one side?

"That doesn't even make any sense," he says. "No one cares that you're single." After all, no one cares that he's single. Except for himself, sometimes, although, he's learning to let go of that.

You're pouting again. "I care. And I'm pretty sure that he cares. Chiharu said that he told the other guys on the soccer team that he was bringing her because he knew that I'd be here. Like, isn't that kind of fucked up?"

Something like irritation wriggles in his brain but he quickly shuts that down. After all, what can he really change about the situation? Even if he does pretend to be your boyfriend for tonight, your ex will continue to be a convincing piece of evidence that Neanderthals might still walk amongst modern humans. And even then, you'll still be hung up on him and things between you two will just stay the same. So why should he bother?

"I'm gonna pass," he says dryly, squeezing past you to get to the door. Your elbow brushes against the cup and it falls, clattering into the sink and splashing red liquid down the sides.

"Just tell him to go fuck himself or something," he shrugs, before twisting the doorknob. "Or just pretend he's not there at all."

"But Rin," you pout as he lets the chaos of the party flood into the small space, "I thought we were friends."

And you are friends, he thinks, as he shoulders his way back through the crowd. That's the problem.

That's the fucking problem.

So when he spots you, fifteen minutes later, with your back up to a wall and that Cro-Magnon specimen crowding you, he thinks it's finally time to seriously reconsider his philosophy.

And sometime in the five steps it takes to cross the room does he finally come to the conclusion that enlightenment just isn't for him.

"Hey, angel," he says as he turns you around to face him. Your lips are parted in surprise and the glitter reflects fuchsia and gold in the low light.

He's acutely aware that the two of you are not alone, but he can't bring himself to look away. Something like a second epiphany dawns on him.

"Sorry it took a while," he murmurs as he leans down to meet your gaze.

"But better late than never, right?"

Sometime last Wednesday, Suna Rintarou had discovered inner peace.

But right now, tonight, as you let him kiss you in front of all the people you know, he decides that inner peace is entirely overrated.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling my best friend a slut?

Ok, I know it sounds bad, but please hear me out. The story is more complex than it seems.

My best friend (20F) and I (20F) met in middle school and became inseparable ever since. Back then, I was more extroverted while she was really shy, so I guess I could say I was more "popular" than her? Although I don't like this word. During high school, I started to attract some male attention and even had one or two boyfriends, while she hadn't even had her first kiss yet. I knew that bothered her; she would say it was because I was so much prettier than her, while I knew that wasn't true. She was always beautiful, she just needed to get out of her shell.

And that's what happened in college. We applied for the same university and rented together a small apartment near campus. The dynamics between us really shifted after that: since she was away from her very religious and strict family, she was able to open up and become more confident in her own skin, while I was more focused on my studies, since I have a scholarship and need to always have good grades. That didn't bothered me, tho, I was happy she was having fun and discovering herself.

Then, at the start of this year, she started dating this amazing guy which we will call A (23M). He was very attentive and loving with her, so I was elated she finally found someone who cared so much about her. A was my best friend's first official boyfriend. He had an older brother too, let's call him B (24M) who would go with A to our apartment and we would all hang out together. B and I hit it off immediately; he had an acid sense of humor but managed not to be offensive, and he wasn't bad in the eyes either. I noticed my best friend would send us some weird looks while we were talking sometimes, but I didn't think anything of it.

Things went south when B and I hooked up one day and, when I told my best friend about it, she became furious. She said I was a terrible friend because, apparently, she was in love with B and I should have noticed. I was shocked; I noticed the weird looks but she and A seemed to be happy. I told her that and she said she was very confused and didn't know who she really liked it, but I should end whatever I had with B because the situation was bad enough.

I ended up doing what she said because I didn't want to have any problems with her since she's my best friend and we live together, and also because there wasn't anything serious between B and I. It's not like I was in love, so I wouldn't fight with her because of it.

Months passed. My best friend started to see B behind A's back and was always promising she would break up with A to stay with him, but she never did anything about it. She would also keep teeling me details about her intimate life with B, although I would always ask her to cut it off. She would say: "Why does it bother you? Do you like B?" And when I would say no, she would keep talking about it. She never said anything about her sex life with A, tho.

Then last month A found out about my best friend and B and broke up with her. B was also tired of this situation and ended things with her. Now she's single and the brothers don't talk to each other anymore.

Meanwhile, I started to see this guy from one of my classes which we'll call C (21M). He's also on my best friend's circle, but they're not close. We were good friends and, two months ago, he asked me out on a date, and we've been seeing each other since then. I decided not to tell my best friend about it, because after the whole B situation, I had a bad feeling. Until last month when C and I decided to go official and my best friend found out through her friends in common with C. She went after me, completely furious because, guess what? Exactly. She was in love with C and I was a terrible friend for not noticing.

I asked since when and she said that it was for months now, but she had just broken up with A and B. I told her that and she simply said it was complicated, but I should have known and now I should break up with C. This time, tho, I just laughed it off and said that in no way that would happen again. I gave up on B because it didn't matter, there was just attraction there, but I actually like C. She accused me of stealing her man and, in fear of saying something I would regret, I left home and went to C's. There I told him the whole situation with my friend, including her saying she was in love with him, and asked him if there was any flirtation or if he noticed something. He just laughed and said they never even had an one-to-one conversation before. After cooling off for a while, I decided to go back to my apartment and finish that conversation.

My best friend was waiting for me when I got back and I told her what C had said to me. She got furious that I told him about her being in love with him and accused me of trying to sabotage her. She also said I was jealous of her because I wasn't the prettiest friend anymore and that was why I would go after the boys she liked. She said she was only single because of me. Fed up with the whole situation, I said: "You're not single because of me. You're single because you're a slut." She got really hurt by it and started to cry. We didn't talk anymore during that day and, in the following morning, she announced she would look for another place to stay.

I don't think I'm TA for standing up for myself and not allowing her to spoil my relationship, but I think calling her a slut was out of line. However, I was angry and so tired of that whole situation that I just wanted to hurt her a bit, too.

So, AITA for calling her a slut?

What are these acronyms?

[wolfiesmoon]

I NEED MORE CONTENT WITH PRANKSTER YUU AND VIL😍

reader is gender neutral and is a silly prankster

ofc anything for my slavic friendo 🤭 yall get special treatment fr

i am still genuinely blown away by how well recieved that body swap fic of mine was, i've never gotten that many comments on a fic of mine before

(and how well recieved i was into the twst fandom in general, srsly guys thanks for the support💕)

You are in a silly mood today. But then again, when are you not?

You feel like causing a bit of trouble to someone, but all the fun options have already been exhausted and you doubt they'd fall for your tricks twice in a row.

However, you still do have one person you can pull a prank on, and that's Vil Schoenheit. Normally, you'd give him a special pass which lets him bypass your pranks because he's extra special to you.

But what's the fun in that? Sometimes even he deserves to be messed with a little. Also, wouldn't it be kind of unfair if Vil was the only one spared from your little tricks?

That settles it, you're sneaking into Pomefiore tonight.

You knew Vil would be out at about 7 pm, busy with a photoshoot. He told you himself. Beginner mistake.

You're already cooking up a funny prank to pull. It's an expensive one, but his reaction will be worth the empty wallet. You can always work a few shifts at the Mostro lounge to make the money back.

Once 7 pm hit, you quietly snuck into Pomefiore, trying your damn hardest to sneak into Vil's room without getting caught.

"What are you doing here?" A very familiar voice stopped you in your tracks just as you were about to reach the door to Vil's room. And you were so close, too.

"Good evening to you too, Epel." You greeted him, slightly irked by the instant interrogation. He quickly corrected himself, greeting you back with a slight stutter.

"I just realised I forgot something in Vil's room." This actually wasn't a bad excuse at all since you often visit Vil and Epel knows that. You mostly just let him experiment on you with makeup or let him talk about his passions. Which is always a pleasure.

"Why do you have a backpack, then?" Epel glanced at the backpack which was hanging off your shoulder. He didn't mean to doubt you, but even he's been a victim to your pranks before. You're being really suspicious, but then again, it feels like you're always planning something.

"They're books, and thick ones too. They'd be difficult to carry with my hands." You shrugged, subtly showing the conversation is over as you placed your hand on the doorknob.

Of course, that part about the books was a lie. Your backpack was filled with "skincare products". They looked exactly like Vil's skincare, but really, all the bottles were filled with mayonnaise.

It's very convenient that mayo is coloured moderately like skincare products, and if it wasn't, you made sure to color match it with dye. You even tried replicating the original smell on some of them. Buying all that skincare from Sam was truly eye opening to just how expensive Vil's shiny skin is.

You're going to swap out his actual skincare with your counterfeit mayo skincare. You would pour out the contents of the original bottles and simply refill them but you have a feeling you'd never escape Vil's wrath if you did that and that's the one thing you definitely do not want to happen.

You placed the mayo skincare on his vanity table, carefully replacing each cream and balm one by one exactly as they were placed originally. Ohohoho, this is going to be great.

You put Vil's actual skincare back in your backpack and left Pomefiore with a sense of accomplishment. Oh, you wish you could see his initial reaction directly.

.

"Care to explain what these are?" Vil lifted one of his creams out of his bag, sat across from you in the Pomefiore lounge.

"They're uhhh... your skincare creams?" You acted innocent, like you had no clue why he was taking that tone with you.

"I know it was you. Epel told me he saw you in Pomefiore acting suspicious yesterday." He pressed you further, serious expression on his face. Ohohoho, you suddenly feel like you're in a detective movie.

You tried not to let the satisfaction on your face show. "Huh? I was simply taking back the magical history book I left in your room. What does your facial cream have to do with it?"

"I am not here to play this game with you. What did you do with my skincare?" He did not look amused by your excuses in the least.

"Hehehehe, I might or might not have replaced it with mayonnaise." You grinned evilly at him.

"You-" he seemed at a loss for words for a moment. "I knew you switched it out with something, but mayonnaise? Really? Why do you do these things?" He knew you knew that mayonnaise was his least favourite food. And he also knew of your affinity for pranks and jokes, but it seems he's gotten a bit too comfortable with not being their victim. Just how long have you been planning this? (One day.)

"Becaaaause, it's funny. Oh man, I wish I could've seen your face when you first applied it." you snorted, imagining his expression. His face is always such a joy to look at, but you imagine it must have been especially expressive in that moment. Your snort developed into hearty laughter.

"I for one do not find it as amusing as you do." he crossed his legs, looking at you with an expression that demanded seriousness. If you weren't so comfortable around him, you would have immediately apologised and bowed gracefully. His presence sure is strong.

You tried your best to stop laughing so he wouldn't actually kick you out of Pomefiore, but it was hard. Whenever you thought you had calmed down and tried looking him in the eyes, it was right back to laughter.

After about a minute of this, Vil seemingly gave up on stopping you, expression softening slightly.

"You should know by now how important skincare is to me. Having to miss out on it this morning was a horrible experience. Which, speaking of... just what did you do to the original contents of my products?" he looked incredibly horrified at the thought of you simply throwing away the contents.

"Oh, I, uh...." you acted nervous on purpose to make him think you're confirming his fears. His eyes widened slightly and he leaned forward in the fancy lounge chair.

"...Put the original tubes and containers away in Ramshackle dorm and bought new ones to refill with mayo." he took a visible sigh of relief. His products live another day.

"Didn't that hurt your wallet?" he asked.

"Yeah, a lot. But it was worth it." you shrugged, smiling at him.

"Well, I suppose you're quite a dedicated person, too. I didn't peg you as one initially." you really are a dedicated prankster. In some aspects, he respects the commitment. In others, he thinks you were kind of stupid for spending so much money just to annoy him.

"Always have been, pookie bear, always have been." you jokingly blew a kiss at him.

He cleared his throat, cheeks dusting pink. How ungraceful.

"I like you when you're angry." you blurted out after a few seconds of silence.

"...You're strange." he narrowed his eyes at you.

"Hahahaha, I knowwww. It's just, like... when you're angry with me for pulling a silly prank on you, it feels different. Your face becomes all expressive and stuff. Oh, and also, it's like, really hot." you recall watching a few movies which he acted in and you felt all giddy when he got angry playing the hot villain. As much as you know he dislikes being typecast, you always simp for him quite excessively when he plays a villain.

"Then why have you only pulled one prank on me so far?" he ignored that last comment after a few moments of consideration. He supposes the pranks would lose their effect if you did them too much, but if you really get that much enjoyement out of his misery, then why have you waited so long?

"Oh, that's because you get a special no-prank pass. You get it since I love y-" you paused.

"I realise I've said too much... I mean, uhhh, that was a prank! Got you! Hahahaha!" Suddenly, you wanted to remove yourself from Pomefiore, so you did just that. You quickly left the dorm without saying goodbye. You cringed at yourself for how unnatural and forced that laughter sounded.

He blinked a few times at the sudden end of the conversation and then fell back on the lounge chair.

"That little... Oh, your real goal is to make me lose my mind, isn't it..." Vil pressed his fingers against his forehead, mumbling that to himself before going to sort out some paperwork. He's wasted far too much time dealing with you anyways.

He denied any accusations from Rook about his cheeks being more pink than before.

[nervoushottee]

August | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie is your Augustine (August by Taylor Swift)

Warnings: unexpected kiss

Note: I honestly think this fic might be the best one I’ve written for this little series so far (despite I’ve only written one since this one) maybe it’s because August is literally my FAVORITE song I love it so much. I normally do not write for Eddie but something about him….my fingers couldn’t stop typing. This fit him so much in my opinion.

THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR 200 FOLLOWS!

Anyway, Enjoy!!

(To get into the mood of the story, it helps to listen to August by Taylor Swift while reading)

Series Masterlist

If someone told Eddie Munson that one day you and him would become friends, he would think you were smoking too much green.

You were a good friend to him but Eddie couldn't help but like you more than that. He knew about you before you were friends, see you in class or in the hallways tucked under Steve. He thought you were beautiful but he knew he didn’t stand a chance against “The Hair”. He would see you two on the weekends sometimes when he needed to get a movie. You perched up on the counter in Family Video right next to the register, stealing quick kisses from Steve while he worked. So when the two of you became good friends it was as if he won the lottery. That shocked yet happy feeling of “I can’t believe this was happening to me”.

If that alone had Eddie so happy and making sure to cherish being friends with you because he didn’t think he was worthy of your time. That this friendship was unexpected, the moment you kissed him was ten times worse.

He had heard a month or so later that you and Steve had broken up. Robin being the one who blabbed and accidentally telling him. (When that girl smokes she gets a lot more talkative then she already is). He didn’t push or pry like how your other friends did. Them demanding details or constantly asking if you were okay. Eddie felt like he didn’t need to do that. If he were in your shoes, he would want no one to ask him any questions. Because it was actually none of their business. So he did just that.

He spoke to you how he normally would, joked to you how he normally would and he could tell you were grateful. You spent a lot more time with him after that. He didn’t ask questions or constantly ask if you were okay when the two of you saw Steve pass by. He assumed you preferred the sense of normalcy you felt around him.

So when the school year ended and summer rolled around, the two of you were thick as thieves. You got a summer job at the farmers market and on your breaks you would bike over to the garage where Eddie worked. You’d bring him lunch, grocery bags filled with sweet peaches, cold cut sandwiches and a large soda to share. You would also bring Wayne a treat or two from time to time since he forbade you from bringing him lunch also. Saying that he was just grateful that Eddie was eating and that was that.

The two of you would sit in the back of his van for lunche. The door swung open, feet dangling off the edges as the two of you ate and talked. He preferred you like this, warm and sunkissed. Peach juice staining your lips, dribbling down your chin. On instinct, he wipes the sweet liquid from your chin with his thumb. You don’t think anything of it due to how close the two of you had gotten. From drooling on his shoulder in the middle of your movie nights or that one time you got sick and threw up in his van. You simply hum out a thank you and continue chewing.

But Eddie doesn’t move his thumb, he wipes there slowly still. You turn to him and ask what’s wrong but the words don’t come out as Eddie kisses you.

He kisses you quickly before moving away. He didn’t know why he did it and he honestly shouldn’t have risked it. You’re the best thing that's ever happened to him and he didn’t want to jepordize that by kissing you if you didn't reciprocate his feelings. But he just loved how you looked sitting in the back of his van, wearing one of his shirts that you tied in a way to fit you better. Despite the deep regret filling his gut, something about it just felt right.

You looked at him shocked but didn’t say anything so Eddie did the only thing he knew he was good at. Making bad jokes at the wrong time.

“Yours taste better than mine. Wanna switch?” he asks, gesturing to his peach. His heart skips a beat when you let out a small laugh and go along with it. Swapping your half bitten peach for his.

When you are done with your shifts at the market, you always peddle back to the car garage so you can put your bike in his van so Eddie can take you home. Thankfully, despite the kiss, today wasn’t any different. The two of you went back and forth singing some song on the radio with the windows down. When he pulls in your driveway and watches you unbuckle your seatbelt. He thinks this is the last time he’s going to do this, that he ruined it with the kiss.

He takes a deep breath in preparation of you saying your final goodbye to him and not wanting to be around him anymore but is shocked once again, when you lean over the console to kiss him.

You kiss him longer this time, putting more initiative into it. You taste faintly of the peach you both ate and the icecream you had finished minutes before getting in his van.

When Eddie opens his eyes, your cheeks are warm and with a hint of pink as you look at him with a smile. “See you tomorrow Munson.” you say to him before getting out of his van and walking to your front door.

He didn’t know what was to come this summer, let alone tomorrow. But he knows for sure that he’s excited to do it all with you.

— — — —

August came and went too quickly than Eddie would prefer. Summer was coming to a close.

You and Eddie were…something. You didn’t put a label on it and Eddie didn’t dare ask the “what are we?” question. He was just happy that it happened. Happy that you kissed him back that day in his van.

Summer was filled with you and warm skies. The two of you would hang out like you normally would, but this time Eddie could kiss you and hold you like he always wished. You cheeks were always pink when you were around him. You could blame it on the summer heat but Eddie secretly wished it was because of him.

He knows though that all good things will come to an end. You talk about Steve now, you didn’t when you both first became friends. And Eddie isn’t jealous or possessive, he knows his place. He isn’t stupid to think that you don’t love Steve. What the two of you had, anyone could assume that the two of you would have gotten married in the next few years or something.

So Eddie doesn’t falter or get upset when you shyly bring him up. He urges you to continue, because before all this, before the long makeouts in his bed or the quickies in his van. You were friends first.

And if he was going to lose you from being… whatever it was that you were to each other. He would want to still stay friends.

Despite that, he enjoys his days with you. He enjoys the summer.

You coming to rehearsal for Corroded Coffin. Or just hanging out with Wayne and watching a movie with him when Eddie tells you he’s working late. Joining in on Hellfire Club instead of just watching from the sidelines. (You were still very confused with the game so the kids and Eddie made you the dice holder. Giving it a kiss of good luck before handing it off to whoever needs it)

Wayne worries for Eddie. He always does, its in the description of being a parent/guardian. He asks about you and asks Eddie if you’re his girlfriend. But Eddie doesn’t answer, he doesn’t know. (He does).“We’re just having fun.” he would say. And it wasn't a lie, you were. Eddie couldn’t count on hand how much he’s laughed and smiled when you’re around and vice versa.

But he knows, this will all end soon. He can feel it. When he sees you talks to Steve briefly when he drives past Family Video. Or when you don’t come over to the trailer as much as you used to. Any day now you will go back to Steve, and Eddie’s made peace with it.

Sure it will hurt like hell when it happens, but all he wants is for you to truly be happy. And if it’s not with him then he hopes it’s with some like Steve Harrington.

So he will miss your laugh. Miss seeing you wear his shirts to sleep. You singing the songs that his band plays, being the only “groupie” at the front of the stage at The Hideout. He will miss the way his skin felt against yours, how soft your lips are against his when you whisper his name.

He will miss how cute you were in your shorts and short tanks to bask in the summer heat. He knows this won’t last, whatever this was between you too will be gone as quickly as it happened. But he will enjoy it right now, he won't think too much about it. He will be at your beck and call whenever you need. He will answer every late night phone call, will arrive at every late work shift you have, will be your shoulder to cry on until you don’t want him anymore.

Because if this is the only way he can have you, he will devour it whole, until there is nothing left.