#ily new friend you rock

[churipu]

Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33

JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)

featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader

warnings. jjk men being softies

note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.

and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33

TOJI FUSHIGURO

hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.

toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?

meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.

toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.

so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.

face, money, strength. none of that.

he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.

then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.

on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.

"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."

"maybe."

and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.

toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.

"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."

"toji, what? where did that come from?"

his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.

"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.

"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.

"i just think so."

"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.

"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."

just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.

you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?

"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.

toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.

"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"

"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.

"why out of the blue?"

"jus' because."

you poked his cheek, "liar."

he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."

you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"

he hums softly.

"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.

"yeah."

"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.

"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.

"i know so."

GOJO SATORU

he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.

gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.

the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.

but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.

gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.

he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.

gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.

"why are you so upset?"

"i'm just..curious."

"it's none of your business."

he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.

"what?"

"who was that guy?"

"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"

"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"

gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.

"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.

in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.

"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.

"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?

"why?"

"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.

NANAMI KENTO

he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.

nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.

at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.

but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.

"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.

nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."

nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.

but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.

it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.

if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.

but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.

"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.

"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.

so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.

but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.

"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."

"thank you y/n."

mutual wins.

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[divinesolas]

Not a one time thing

r.q: being friends with benefits, with jace where you both end up drunk at a party and end up having sx and the next day you guys laugh it off and forget abt it. but jace starts to crave you more and first you’re hesitant about it, but then you guys agree on friends with benefits. now you guys js randomly whenever you’re stressed or in the mood and calling eachother in the middle of the night. jace starts to catch feelings and like fights the urge to say ily while they’re doing it. and then they js like end up together idk. but you’re like my fav jace writer rn

w.c: 1k

c.w: slight nsfw, sweet jace, mutual pining, fwb to lovers, cute little drabble, not proofread, written with f!reader in mind but is basically gn!reader

You thought your slip up with Jace would be a one time thing, that after the two of you walk out of the party laughing about it that that would be it. Yet not even two nights later you’re staring down at a “are you up?” text from him. You don’t answer him, texting him back in the morning and saying you had been asleep and asking him what he needed, he had said it was nothing and he ‘figured it out’ but that just left you way too curious.

Yet when he shows up at your house at two am with his puppy dog eyes and a rock between his legs you let him push you on the couch and let him have you once again. When you wake up and he’s making breakfast in your kitchen shirtless you decide to lay down some ground rules to quell the pounding of your heart.

Strictly friends with benefits. No feelings attached. exclusively one another, definitely a rule in place just to avoid stds, no other reason. Arrangement must be broken off is one of you begins to like someone else.

Sounds easy enough. Its a good stress reliever for you, whenever you have a test or your studying is not going as well as expected you give him a ring and he’s quick to show up to take your mind off of it and you do the same for him. It works well, at least for you, but Jace seems to be struggling a lot more then you are.

You can’t tell he is of course. He is good at hiding it, but it begins to grow more and more daunting as he’s thrusting into you, staring at your with heart eyes that you can’t see since your eyes are closed, his thumb rubs affectionally on your jaw as he watches you climax, it’s gotten to the point he has no care for his own pleasure, he gets his fill from watching your eyes rolls in the back of your head.

Four times. It was a new record for him. Four times he almost told you that he loved you. He watches you as you scroll through your phone, oblivious to the internal battle he’s having. You are so beautiful. You haven’t even bothered to put back on any of your clothes, he admires you fully, he had no clue how long he was until you look at him with a raised brow, “You like what you see big guy?”

He loves you.

He simply reaches over and places a kiss on your lips before he lays back down. “What’s that for?” Because i love you. “To shut you up.” You roll your eyes and smack him on the chest. “Says you while staring at my bare chest you perv.”

He thinks he can keep it in for awhile, let his feelings pass. Yet he ends up blowing up. You have been spending a lot more time with cregan. Cregan fucking stark his best friend yet he has never wanted to murder a man more. Why are you walking around and smiling with him? Why did you fucking bail on him one night to hang out with cregan?

“Is this over?”

You turn to him confused, setting down the pizza you had ordered for the two of you down on the table and shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

His posture is rigid, he’s fiddling around with his fingers, he would normally be shirtless but you take notice of the fact he’s wearing a plain white shirt. “Are we over?”

“No? Why would,” You attempt to put it in the words, we seems to intimate despite the fact that's how he worded it, “our arrangement,, end? You like someone?”

“What about cregan? You like him don’t you?” You tilt your head at him and let out a confused laugh. “You mean your best friend cregan? what the fuck are you on about?”

“You said our arrangement ends if one of us starts to like someone else.” “Yes i did, so what you think i like cregan?” “Yes.” This is what breaks you and you laugh, you cover your face in your hands as you turn away and you laugh. “what the are you talking about? No i don’t like cregan. Why would it matter if i did?”

“Because i love you.” You freeze. You turn around quickly to stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“I love you. I don’t want to be some stupid arrangement. I want there to be us, we. Together.”

You gulp, you feel your feelings you’ve kept locked down bubbling up to the surface. You have to be rational, he is clearly not thinking straight you know him. “Jace. This is coming from you being jealous you shouldn’t say stuff like that. Hey ill stop hanging out with cregan without you-”

“No. I’m in love with you. This is not because I’m fucking jealous, sure maybe i am but i am so madly in love with you everyday i have to stop myself from professing my love to you from the highest mountain. If I'm saying this because I'm jealous then why do i feel the urge to tell you i love you while you’re withering underneath me. I love you.”

He had made his way over to you. He stands in front of you looking like a kicked puppy. “If you don’t feel the same we should end this. Never speak again, maybe that would kill me but i can’t just keep ignoring how i feel for you any longer.” He tenses in your silence, “Please answer me.”

“I never wanted to get into this arrangement with you because i knew one day i would crack. I ignored your calls and texts because i was so nervous to begin this dangerous game with you because i am so madly in love with you Jace.”

He rushes to cup your cheeks and he pulls you into a kiss. You can feel him grinning against your lips and he must feel the way you’re smiling back.

“Does boyfriend Jace fuck anything different than friend Jace?”

“You’re about to find out.”

perm jacaerys taglist <3

@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aegonswife

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Summary: June brings the end of Harris's preschool career and the official beginning of your new life as a family of three--with a little help from your friends, of course.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), p in v, mentions of phone sex, grief and loss

WC: 7.8k

Chapter 20/20

A/N: With the official end of Trapped Under Ice, I am now opening up requests in the TUI universe. Thank you all for taking this journey with me as I processed my own grief. As long as you keep requesting, I will continue writing for our little family 💚

Thank you to @rip-quizilla for making that scene stronger. Ily, bb.

Divider credit to @saradika

The diner is bustling with customers, happily chatting over stacks of pancakes and overstuffed omelets. Coffee carafes clink against chipped mugs as the waitstaff pours refill after refill. 

You weave through the rows of tables, careful not to bump into servers balancing trays of food or busboys carrying the used dishes and silverware. A small yellow gift bag is clutched in your hand, and you hold it to your chest to protect its fragile contents. 

Harris spots you before you can see him; his little arm shoots up from where he’s tucked into the booth next to Wayne. 

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he frantically waves, his grin wide enough to stretch off of his cheeks. “Over here!”

You laugh, watching as Eddie scoots from the middle of the seat to the end, making room for you to sit down. There are two steaming cups on his side of the table, centered on little saucers that are likely older than you are. 

“Morning, baby,” he greets you with a smile, leaning in to give you a small kiss—no tongue, of course—as you slide in next to him. “You sleep okay last night?”

You nod sheepishly, remembering the phone conversation the two of you had had, well after Harris fell asleep. Eddie’s sultry voice had guided you through touching yourself; the next-best thing to having his own fingers inside you. 

“Wish I could be there right now,” he’d murmured into the receiver, so low that you could barely hear him. The faint sound of his own fly being lowered punctuated his words. “Wanna make you feel so good, Sweetheart, but I know you’re being a good girl f’me tonight, aren’t you?”

You bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping to blame the heat creeping up your face on the drink, and take a hearty sip. It’s a little sweet, but mostly bitter. Just how you like it. 

The crinkling tissue paper as you lean back in the booth draws your attention to your company and away from your indulgent memories. “Happy Father’s Day, Eddie,” you kiss him on the cheek, your lipstick tinting his stubble pink. “This is from me and Harris. Be careful with it.” There’s a deliberate vagueness in your warning, not wanting to spoil the surprise. 

Eddie cocks his brow, clearly not expecting any sort of present from you. Shocking, considering you’d taken Harris to the Paint-n-Play on Wednesday during your usual tutoring session time, and you’d figured he would have spilled the beans as soon as he and his dad had a moment alone. He rustles around the bag with dramatic flourish, trying to build anticipation but only succeeding in testing Harris’s patience.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!” Harris bounces up and down in his seat, mouth sticky and teeth tinted purple with grape juice as he urges Eddie to stop dragging out the process. Wayne discreetly places his palm behind his grandson’s scalp, protecting his head in case he rocks too far back. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart did it together!”

“You did, huh?” Eddie chuckles, pulling out a ceramic mug. It’s painted sky blue, and Harris had insisted on making purple polka dots, splotchy as he’d haphazardly dunked the brush in paint and pressed it to the plaster. Written in bright orange blocky letters is DAD; you’d helped him sound out duhh-ahhh-duhh, his little tongue poking out in complete concentration. Your only visible contribution is the tiny green 1997 painted along the handle, marking the first year you’d celebrated Father’s Day together.

The multitude of complementary colors and mismatched designs should clash. The dots look more like disfigured spiders than circles. The 7 you’d carefully written with a fine-tipped brush is slightly smudged from where Harris had picked up the mug before it had fully dried, and there’s an extra curving line extending from the first D in DAD after he’d started writing the letter backwards.

To Eddie, it’s perfect.

“I love it.” Brown eyes find his son’s hopeful gaze that eagerly awaits his father’s reaction. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He places the mug on the table next to the coffee-filled one in front of him, tipping its contents into his gift. A few drops dribble down the side, but most of it ends up where it should. A success, in his opinion. He takes a hearty gulp, not caring that the hot liquid singes his taste buds. “Is this magic?” He holds the mug up to his face, studying it like it’s a precious stone. “Because, I swear, it makes this coffee taste better.”

The little boy beams, exchanging an elated glance with you. “Ms. Sweetheart, did you put magic in it?”

Eddie chimes in before you can respond. “I bet she did. She’s sneaky with it; always sprinkling it where you least expect.” His empty hand finds your thigh underneath the table, silently claiming it as his own. “I don’t know how she does it,” he muses wistfully, adding another sugar packet to the mug and swirling it with a spoon until it’s dissolved. Like it was always part of the coffee from the jump. 

“Speaking of presents,” Wayne chimes in, unearthing a tiny, newspaper-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and handing it to his nephew. “‘S, not much, but it’s a Father’s-Day-slash-housewarming gift for ya.” 

“I thought we agreed on no gifts,” Eddie shakes his head, suddenly self-conscious about arriving empty-handed. 

“Well, I lied.”

Wayne watches as Eddie tears into the paper. Whatever home run or double-header had made the front page of the sports section is irrelevant compared to the mystery item that is snugly tucked between baseball stats and the upcoming game schedule. 

A small gasp leaves his mouth as he unwraps a wallet-sized picture frame; the word family is etched into the wood right above the plastic-protected photo. 

It’s from Harris’s bowling party; the one Wayne had taken of you and Eddie on either side of the birthday boy. Happiness radiates off of the three of you with such intensity that it seems impossible for it to be captured in a still frame. He’d forgotten that Wayne had even snapped it.

“Wayne, I…” Eddie struggles to find the words he needs to properly convey his feelings. The tip of his nose burns with the anticipated influx of emotions. “I’m gonna put it right next to my alarm clock, so it’s the first thing I see every morning.” 

You lay your head on his shoulder, the edge of his lips finding your forehead in a half-kiss. He soaks in the comfort you bring, absorbing it through every pore as he exhales and feels himself relax.

The waitress comes over with a notepad and a smile. “You folks ready to order?” She clicks her pen, poised to jot down what the four of you want to eat.

“Chicken fingers, please!” Harris announces, perching up on his knees and leaning his elbows on the table. “With French fries!”

The waitress, whose name tag reads Bee, offers a sympathetic smile and a soft click of her tongue. “I’m sorry, buddy. We don’t start serving lunch until 11:30.”

The boy’s lower lip quivers at the news, having his heart set on eating his favorite food. You can see his perfectly curated routine begin to crumble, taking his excitement with it. “But…but I even said ‘please!’” he insists, voice cracking. 

You step in quickly, wanting to salvage the Father’s Day celebration before Hurricane Harris can brew up a storm. “Hey, Har, I know you’re disappointed about the chicken fingers, but I have a super special idea.”

“Wh-What?” Misty eyes indicate that tears still threaten to spill over his lashes. 

“When Grandma used to take me to the diner, we used to split silver dollars. They’re pancakes, just smaller.” You take a deep breath and smile, hoping and praying that your plan works. “Would you like to share some silver dollars with me? And we can come back and get chicken fingers another time.”

Harris considers your proposition, rubbing his hands together along his knuckles to soothe himself. Finally, he says, “Can we eat them with syrup?”

“That sounds delicious.” You lean over and ruffle his hair, careful not to let any loose strands land on the table. “You wanna tell the waitress?”

“Mmkay,” he nods, turning to Bee and smiling. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are gonna have the, um, little pancakes.” He frowns, unable to remember the dish’s name. “The dollars?”

Bee laughs and nods, jotting it on her notepad. “An order of silver dollar pancakes, coming right up. And for you gentlemen?” She brings her attention to Eddie and Wayne. 

The older man clears his throat, ordering a Western omelet with home fries and rye toast. Eddie asks for the same but with white bread. “And a refill on the coffee,” he adds. 

Bee promises to be back shortly with the food, and the four of you resume your conversation. 

“We’ll get to take a new picture next week at someone’s graduation,” you say with a smile, looking in Harris’s direction. “Are you excited, Har Bear?”

Harris takes another messy sip of grape juice. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go to kindergarten soon! But first is summer.” 

“Summer first, then kindergarten,” you agree, sipping your coffee before it gets cold. You’re no stranger to it, often setting down your to-go cup at work and forgetting about it until well after morning circle time, but you relish any chance you get to enjoy it while it’s still warm. “I was thinking: once you and Daddy are all moved in, we should make plans for this summer. Like the zoo, or the pool…”

“Yeah!” Harris claps his hands together and grins. “Or Disney World!”

Eddie’s ears perk up at his son’s suggestion. “Not this year, but maybe soon.” If he can continue moving up the ranks at the record store, coupled with the two of you splitting rent, it might even happen next year, but he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee he’ll keep. “And we’ll drag Grampa Wayne with us.”

Wayne responds with a shake of his head. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m goin’ on any of those roller coasters.”

“You’re gonna sit and ride It’s a Small World the whole day?” Eddie teases, leaning back in his seat. 

“Damn straight.”

The food comes out ten minutes later, steaming plates carefully placed on the table. You cut the silver dollar pancakes into bite-size pieces, pushing half to the side nearest Harris and the other half closest to you. A glass syrup carafe waits to be used, its handle sticky with residue. 

“Say when,” you tell Harris, drizzling it back and forth across the plate. He waits until the pancakes are drenched before stopping you.

You watch as he uses his fork to spear some pancake, pops it in his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. “It’s yummy!” he declares triumphantly, already scanning the plate for his next piece. “This is my favorite food ever!”

You, Eddie, and Wayne share smiles; none of you take his declaration too seriously, knowing he changes his favorite anythings on an hourly basis. Still, a win is a win, and avoiding a chicken finger-induced tantrum is no small feat. 

Eddie spreads a pat of butter over his toast, but his eyes never shift from you and Harris sharing breakfast. You’d asked him whether he prefers blueberries or chocolate chips in his pancakes, and the discussion quickly devolved into a competition to see who could come up with the grossest pancake addition. 

“How about…” Harris wiggles his nose, “broccoli pancakes?”

“Ew!” You stick out your tongue in disgust. “That was a good one, but I think I can top it. Would you eat…” you tap your chin in contemplation, “fish stick pancakes!”

Harris squeals, far from an inside voice, but no one wants to correct him. “That’s super yucky! Fish stick pancakes?!”

Eddie smiles, tucking into his own food. He wants to savor the joy, the warmth. The twinkle in Wayne’s eyes, the upturned corners of Harris’s lips, the trill of your laugh. He wishes he could capture the feeling, but a mental image will have to do. 

He inhales and allows himself to be wrapped in the unconditional love he had once convinced himself he didn’t want nor deserve. 

The Hawkins Preschool cafeteria has once again been transformed. The custodians folded the long tables, propping them against the wall, and set up rows of folding chairs, leaving a small aisle for the graduates’ families to find their seats. 

Other parents stare as Eddie walks in, perspiration prickling under his arms as he hears them whispering about the kid who ran away. It’s audible enough for Wayne to hear; he rests his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before they take their seats. 

Jeff and Dustin arrive a few moments later, noticing Eddie and Wayne in the small crowd and shuffling over. Eddie pulls them each in for a quick hug, and Wayne does the same.

“Glad we made it,” Dustin says with a sigh of relief. “My flight got delayed half an hour, but we made up the time in the air.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that we had to stop at a payphone so you could call your precious Suzie-Poo,” he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of a smile on his lips, proud of the way his friend cares so deeply for his partner. “Anyway, we’re here now.” He takes a seat next to Wayne, shifting so he can speak to Eddie. “Is Harris excited to graduate?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the recent memory of his son prancing around the apartment that morning in his cap and gown, small body drowning in the flowing green fabric. In that instant, Eddie could picture him as a young man, crossing a much larger stage to receive his diploma from Hawkins High. If Higgins is still the principal, Eddie might have to teach Harris the family tradition of flipping him off. 

Sue Sinclair makes her way up the small staircase to the podium, adjusting the microphone so she speaks into it easily. “Good morning, parents, siblings, and other special guests. Welcome to Hawkins Preschool’s Moving Up ceremony.” She beams, holding for applause. Eddie eases back into his seat; he’s known Principal Sinclair for years, since Lucas had joined Hellfire, and she’d recently stepped up to take over teaching Harris’s class for the remaining weeks of the school year. After the little boy had given his statement to the police, Marion and Paula’s teaching licenses had been immediately terminated, and negligence charges were currently pending.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to make an announcement.” Sue Sinclair looks over to where your class is standing, patiently waiting their turn to receive their sticker-laden diplomas. “I am pleased to announce that our very own Mr. Will Byers,” she extends her hand in Will’s direction, “will be our newest head teacher starting this fall.”

Though everyone in attendance is clapping, it’s obvious that Eddie, Wayne, Jeff, and Dustin cheer the loudest. Will blushes red, unused to being the center of attention, but the smile on his face shows how excited he is to take on this new role. You wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and pull him in for a proud hug.

“Our students have worked incredibly hard this year, learning their letters, numbers, and how to be a good friend,” the principal continues. “And though we will miss them dearly, we are thrilled to send them off to kindergarten with these new skills. So, without further ado, let’s bring out our graduates!”

The ceremony begins, starting with your class. You stand at one end of the stage, sending each student off to where Will is waiting at the other end as Principal Sinclair reads out each of their names. They take their certificates and pose with baby teeth on full display while their parents snap photos from disposable Kodaks and bulky Nikons. All the seemingly endless days, the menial fights over sharing toys; every moment was worth it if it led to this.

You usher the kids to their seats in the front row after your final student’s name is called, spotting Eddie in the crowd as you sit down. He winks, the corner of his eye mischievously crinkling. You smile, taking full advantage of the other parents’ distractedness and give him a little wave; the exchange a private love letter.

Both of you bring your attention back to the stage when Sue Sinclair calls up the next class. Harris stands towards the center of the line, excitement buzzing through him at a rate that cannot be contained. He rocks from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth as he awaits his turn. His brown ringlets poke out from underneath his cap, grazing just above his eyebrows. 

Principal Sinclair pauses, looking directly at Eddie when she speaks. She understands the gravity of this accomplishment, her lipsticked smile reaching her eyes as she leans in towards the microphone.

“Harris Munson!”

Eddie jumps up, hollering as loud as his vocal cords will allow. Harris accepts his diploma and smiles wide, both at his accomplishment and at the sound of his dad cheering him on. His expression further brightens when he sees Wayne, Dustin, and Jeff beside him, and he waves while jumping up and down.

He’s supposed to walk from stage left to stage right, just as all the students before him have done; in typical Harris fashion, he takes the road less traveled. With a mighty leap, he catapults himself off of the stage and makes a beeline straight for you.

Two little arms wrap themselves around you, squeezing you as tight as they can. The brim of his cap is flush against your cheek. “I did it, Ms. Sweetheart!” His words carry a lightheartedness that only a child’s joy can bring. “Did you see?” He picks his head up from where it was nestled against you and giggles, dimpled chin brushing your bicep.

You tilt the mortarboard slightly upward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I saw, Har,” you tell him, using your thumb to wipe away your lipstick print, “and I am so, so proud of you.” Readjusting his cap, you usher him over to where the rest of his class is standing, a garden of happiness blooming within you. 

You look back at where Eddie is sitting, wishing you could sit next to him, fingers laced together while his thumb caresses the side of your hand and grasping your hand tighter when Harris’s name is called. For now, it’s enough to know that you’ll be by his side throughout all of Harris’s future endeavors and accomplishments. A team. 

Eddie’s palms press into his slack-covered thighs as he peers over at you and grins. Bright, adoring eyes meet yours, speaking every thought that his mouth can’t say right now. I love you. Thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.

You accept the wordless praise with a smile, one that reaches beyond its usual confines. 

Dustin notices the small exchange, and he nudges Eddie’s ribs with his elbow. “She’s the one, huh?” He cocks his eyebrow knowingly. 

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie murmurs, no longer paying any attention to the remaining names being read aloud. “You ever think you’d see the day I settle down?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an ounce of insecurity behind them. 

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin nods without hesitation. “Always knew you would.” Carol Perkins shushes him from the row ahead, but he just flips her off and rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t you remember that time in high school when we got sloshed—sorry, Wayne,” Jeff cuts in sheepishly, “and you went on a rant about how you secretly wanted the whole wife, kids, picket fence deal?”

“And I believe I threatened to kick your ass if you told anyone,” Eddie points out, embarrassment turning his face red, apparent even under the light stubble covering his cheeks. 

Wayne chuckles softly. “I already knew. About the dream and the booze.” He laughs a bit harder at Jeff and Eddie’s shocked expressions. “If you keep replacing vodka with water, eventually, it’s all just water.”

“Ya don’t say.” Dustin’s sarcasm bleeds through his whisper. 

Principal Sinclair reads the last student’s name with the same enthusiasm she’s given all of the other kids. “I now present to you, the Hawkins Preschool class of 1997!” She mimes tossing a cap in the air, the students’ cue to do the same. 

The fervor of the cheers and applause could shake the cafeteria. Whistles pierce the air and reverberate off of the walls, none louder than Wayne Munson’s. You stand up, smoothing the pleats of your dress to soak in the achievement of completing another academic year; for you, this one in a brand new school with more challenges than you’d cared to endure. 

You and Will take in the sight of nine cherubic faces looking up at you in admiration, though they’re beginning to shed their baby fat. This was certainly a journey, and you couldn’t have asked for a better teaching assistant to walk beside you through it all. 

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” you say, squeezing him in a tight hug. 

“I’ll be right down the hall!”

Begrudgingly, you let go of him, not losing the pout on your lips. “That’s way too far for me.” The two of you both know that you’re serious; it won’t be the same without having him in the classroom with you. “Can we try to match up our breaks and eat lunch together?”

“It’s a date,” Will laughs, then juts out his chin to motion behind you, “but it looks like I might have some competition.”

Before you can turn around, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist. He tugs you in close so your back is flush against his chest, the buttons from his shirt pressing into your spine. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, lips so close that they brush the lobe. “Are you ready to start your summer?”

You kiss his cheek, adjusting your stance so you can walk hand in hand to get Harris. He torpedoes himself into Eddie’s stomach, shrieking with laughter as he’s lifted into the air. 

“Har Bear, you’re a preschool graduate!” Eddie smacks a kiss to his son’s temple. “How should we celebrate, hmm? Ice cream? Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Ice cream!” Harris decides easily. “I’m gonna get cotton candy with rainbow sprinkles and—Uncle Dusty!” He squirms out of Eddie’s grasp and races over to Dustin. 

“What? I’m not an ice cream topping!” Dustin teases, crouching down to ruffle Harris’s curls, matted to his scalp from being hidden underneath the cap. 

Harris giggles. “You’re so silly!” He glances back and forth from him to you, and you realize he doesn’t know that you’d met in March at Will’s birthday party. “Uncle Dusty, this is Ms. Sweetheart. She’s my almost-mommy.”

“Ohh,” Dustin replies with a smirk, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “I think she needs to be your dad’s almost-wife first–”

“All right! Ice cream time!” Eddie hurries to cut him off, glaring at Dustin for bringing the idea to Harris’s attention again; he has constantly been hounding him about marriage ever since he found out about his newest living arrangements. The idea of marrying you, however, eases his tension and has a smile tugging on his lips; a slight switch in expression that his uncle spots easily.

Wayne’s gruff whisper is in Eddie’s ear. “Sounds like it’s time for an almost-proposal.”

“Shut up!”

“I think that’s the last of them!” Jeff calls out, lugging the final cardboard box from his car into your apartment. He wipes his hands on his jeans and closes the door behind him, careful not to wake up his sleeping daughter in Viv’s arms. He looks over at where you, Robin, and Jess have begun unpacking, laying Eddie’s clothes in one pile and Harris’s much smaller clothes in another.

Jeff places a kiss on the crown of Viv’s head, then plants an identical one on Ettie’s. “Where are the guys?” 

“Harris’s room,” you say; bittersweet taste tinging the new label. It feels better than Grandma’s old room, but part of it will always belong to her. You hear Harris giggle as Eddie and Dustin re-assemble his racecar bed, spreading warmth that gently softens the sadness until it resembles sentimentality. “I’ll come with you; I have to put this away, anyway.” You grab the pile of Harris’s clothes and tuck it under your arm.

Eddie and Dustin sit on the floor, rogue screws spread around them as they intently study their project.

“I think this piece,” Dustin muses, picking up one of the sides of the frame, “connects with this one like that…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” He takes the screwdriver and twists the metal into the slot triumphantly. Your breath catches in your throat as his bicep flexes with the motion, perfectly displayed where his t-shirt sleeve had been cut into a makeshift tank top. “There we go.” He looks up and realizes you’re there, perfectly still as you watch him. “Hey, Sweetheart. Y’good?” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye; though it was inadvertent, he knows what he’s doing to you.

You only nod, the movement dragging you out of your momentary stupor. He chuckles as you place Harris’s shirts and pants in the dresser, fingers clumsily slipping over the knobs. It’s the same unicorn-covered dresser that had sent Harris into hysterics a few weeks ago, but you’d painted over it before he could see. It’s now a dark navy blue, no evidence of what once lay beneath.

Eddie’s amused by your reaction and subsequent embarrassment, running his tongue over his teeth and chuckling to himself, but his victory is short-lived.

“Hey, Casanova,” Dustin’s exasperated voice cuts in, pointing to the section Eddie just assembled, “you put the piece on upside down.”

Harris crinkles his nose. “What’s Casanova?”

Eddie buries his head in his hands as Dustin scrambles to explain. “It means your dad is trying to show off his handyman skills for your almost-mommy.” He winks in Eddie’s direction before leaning in and exaggeratedly whispering in Harris’s ear, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”

As soon as Harris distracts himself with setting up his toys, Eddie is saluting his friend with a quick flip of his middle finger.

You crouch down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry; I’m very impressed.” He blushes when you kiss his cheek. “Your uncle’s going to be here with dinner in a few minutes, if you burly men want to wash up.”

Eddie nods, turning to his friends and his son and speaking in a deep baritone. “You heard the woman! Let us refuel so we may regain our strength for hunting and other masculine activities.”

Harris’s brows pinch together in further confusion while you and Dustin share an eyeroll, but the three of you follow your fearless leader out of the room. Eddie lets the two of them pass and waits for you, sliding a coy hand in your back pocket and murmuring against your hair. “Man and woman make fire in bedroom later?” He continues using the deepened voice.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s…that’s not a no, though, right?”

The summer sun is still high in the sky when Wayne arrives at the apartment, three pizza boxes still warm in his palms. He’s barely able to put them on the table before Harris is racing towards him, ready to give a full report of the goings-on of his day. 

Jess sits at the table, baby Ettie laying in her arms while she gives Viv a break and feeds her from a bottle. You place a piece of pizza on the paper plate in front of her, and one in front of Robin, who adoringly watches her girlfriend dote on a baby. Wayne sits in the third seat, thanking you with his kind smile as you pass him a slice.

You join Eddie and Harris on the couch; Jeff plops down in the La-Z-Boy on the other side of the coffee table, motioning for Viv to sit atop his legs, while Dustin has seemingly been relegated to sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Uncle Dusty, come sit next to me!” Harris chirps, nearly knocking your plate out of your hand as he bounces onto your lap. His curls tickle your chin as he leans over to take a bite of his dinner, dragging the cheese halfway off of the crust before Eddie holds it in place. 

Dustin obliges, squishing in next to you with an apologetic laugh, but you don’t mind. Dialogue melds together, with people seamlessly leaping from one conversation to another. Robin poses the question of what everyone thinks Ettie’s first word will be, which prompts Wayne to tell the story about how Eddie tried so hard to get Harris to say dada, only for the boy to scream out “SHIT!” in the middle of Bradley’s Big Buy. 

Jeff looks across the room at his tiny daughter. “Please don’t let that be your first word,” he jokingly begs her, picking a greasy pepperoni piece from his slice and dropping it in his mouth. While he’s preoccupied, Viv steals a bite of the crust. 

“Are you all going to the July 4th carnival next week?” Eddie asks through a cheesy mouthful. 

Everyone except Dustin answers in the affirmative. “Flying back home tomorrow,” he says, a round of booing from the group forcing him to pause mid-statement, “but Suzie and I are—hey, not cool!” He swats at a crumpled napkin that Eddie lobs at his head. “Suzie and I are going to try and visit for my mom’s birthday in August,” he finishes with a pointed look. 

Harris tilts his head back so you can see straight into his flared nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart, you’re coming to the carnival with us, right?”

“Of course! What rides are we gonna go on?” you ask, his little feet kicking at your calves as joy flows through his body. 

“The Ferris Wheel! Me an’ Daddy always go on that, an’ now you can come with us!”

He and Eddie always go on the Ferris Wheel. It’s a tradition that they share, and now they’re allowing you in. Now you’re part of it. 

You smile, kissing his forehead in a celebration of belonging and delight. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” you agree. “Do you think Daddy will play the games and win a prize for us?”

Eddie groans at your suggestion. “Those booths are all rigged. Every last one of ‘em.”

“I dunno,” Jess says teasingly, wiping Ettie’s chin with a cloth bib, “I won a stuffed animal from the whack-a-mole last year—”

“Oh, yeah! And I beat the Test Your Strength one,” Jeff adds slyly, getting a rise out of proving Eddie wrong. 

Eddie throws his voice to a falsetto, mocking his friend’s words. “I beat the Test Your Strength one,” he echoes nasally, chuckling when Jeff scoops up the napkin previously thrown at Dustin and hurls it towards Eddie. 

The rest of the evening continues like this, silly banter and recalled stories that end up being cut short or watered down for the impressionable ears listening in. It’s love in its many forms: between partners, between parents and their children, between friends. Each peal of laughter, each shared smile, each memory made adds to its foundation; brick by brick, layer by layer. 

The pink hues of sunset darken to indigo and eventually settle into a night sky, the moon shining brightly and unobscured by clouds. Eddie, Jeff, and Dustin finally manage to put the race car bed back together—and just in time. Harris’s yawns become more frequent until he can no longer fight sleep, dozing off with his cheek pressed against your chest. Soft snores leave his slightly agape mouth. 

“I feel the same way,” Wayne jokes, standing up from his chair and stretching his back with a grimace. “It’s been a long day.”

The group nods in agreement, quietly gathering their belongings and saying good-bye. 

“Thank you all for helping today,” you say, handing out hugs while keeping Harris sound asleep. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake up, even with all of the commotion. “We really appreciate it.”

Eddie seconds your sentiment. “It means a lot to us. We know we owe you a lot more than just dinner—”

“You guys are family,” Viv interrupts with a smile, gently rocking a sleeping Ettie in her arms. “This is what family does.”

A calloused hand rests on your shoulder from behind the couch; you lean your head on Eddie’s forearm and give it a small kiss. The delicate hairs brush against your lips, and you relax into his touch.

Your guests file out, already making plans to meet up at the carnival. Eddie closes the door behind them, insisting that he can beat Jeff at the Test Your Strength and demanding that his friend buy him a funnel cake when he does.

There’s a soft murmuring coming from Harris’s room, and Eddie walks as quietly as he can. He watches silently, shoulder pressed against the doorframe, as you place his son’s head onto the pillow. The crisp sheet is draped over his sleeping body, followed by the Buzz Lightyear comforter you’d bought at Kmart especially for him. Harris stirs for a moment to grab onto the blankets, tugging them to his chin and scrunching up his legs to assume a cozier position. He lets out a content sigh and slips back into his dream.

“Good night, kiddo,” you whisper, kissing his mop of curls. You look around the room, so different from when it belonged to Grandma. It seems larger, his race car bed taking up much less space than her queen-size bed did. A Lego set lies where her shoe rack once stood. The top of his dresser is covered in Hot Wheels, rather than the makeup and jewelry that Grandma had on hers. 

But it’s a good kind of different, one that comes with the natural ebb and flow of life. It brings inevitable change, and it’s your choice whether to embrace it or run away.

“You’re a natural at this bedtime thing, y’know.” Eddie’s voice, low and soft, places you back in the moment. He holds his arms out for you to nestle into them, holding you as close as he can. His thumb caresses your shoulder blade. “It normally takes a couple of stories, half a dozen pee breaks, and a horse tranquilizer to get him down.”

“I think being completely exhausted from moving helped,” you laugh into his chest. “And I’m right there with him. Man and woman might have to postpone their fire-making.”

Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against you. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be my best performance. Wanna make this one really good, since it’s a special occasion and everything.” He closes Harris’s door and leads you to the bedroom you two now share. “We gotta christen this bad boy.”

“We’ve had sex on this bed a million times.” You recall the ways his lips traced over your body, eager to memorize every inch of skin. 

“But that’s when it was only your bed,” he points out. “Now it’s ours.”

Ours. Our bed, our home, our family. Ours. 

You can barely change into pajamas before you’re falling asleep; Eddie manages to slip off his jeans and shirt, clad in plaid boxers and nothing else, before crashing down into the bed you now share. His arm slips around your waist, fingers reflexively dancing up your shirt, while he buries his head in the nape of your neck. 

When daylight breaks and the sun streams through the gaps in the blinds, Eddie has assumed a starfish position, blankets flung to the edge of the bed in what must have been a middle-of-the-night move. You’re still dozing, but he knows he has to wake you if he wants to sneak in some alone time before his son wakes up.

“Morning, gorgeous.” His breath tickles under your earlobe, pulling you close to him. You hum, not quite awake but no longer dreaming. “C’mon, wake up, pretty thing.” He licks his lips before kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder blades. 

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you turn over and face him. Your mouth lazily finds his, the cotton fabric of your pajama top fisted in his grasp. The outline of his morning wood is visible through his boxer shorts; it presses into your thigh as though greedily searching for your warmth. “You always wake up this hard?” you tease, fingertips already fiddling with the worn elastic waistband and dipping towards the treasure beneath. The scruff of his pubic hair grazes your knuckles. 

“Only when I dream of you,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you while shedding his only clothing article. The boxers fall to the floor unceremoniously. 

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.” Both hands cup your cheeks; you expect him to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Love waking up next to you.”

It draws a memory of the first morning you’d spent together; an inadvertent sleepover that culminated in one poorly-crafted lie and two broken hearts. He looks at you now, tired and yet still beautiful. How could I have let her slip by? How did I almost miss all of this?

You take the lead this time, arching your back so your torso melds into his, connected by desire. Eddie has your tank top off in a heartbeat, tongue swiping over your nipples the instant they’re visible. 

“Perfect,” Eddie groans, making his way down your abdomen. He places your legs on top of his shoulders, lips delicately fluttering over your clit so he can lick a broad stripe up your labia. “I know we should be having a quickie, but I can’t turn down breakfast in bed.” His face is buried in your pussy, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory. 

You giggle at his phrasing. If you question it, you know he’ll make a comment about you being good enough to eat. You give in instead, letting him ravish you just the way you both crave. 

One finger, then two, slip into your waiting cunt while his mouth focuses on your clit. You’re dripping with your arousal and his saliva; you bite your lower lip to stifle the noises begging to be heard. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you croak, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m so close, s-so close…”

Eddie says nothing, continuing to worship the taste of you. You can feel his victorious smile as you cry out his name in orgasmic bliss, toes flexing just as he brings you down from the high. 

“Need you, fuckin’ Christ,” he breathes, tempering the stimulation pulsing through his cock with a few short tugs. 

You nod, already electrified at the prospect of being split open on him. He sinks into you with a muted moan, savoring the way you envelop him within your warmth. “All mine, Sweetheart; you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” you manage. Your fingernails dig into his upper back with a force that will surely leave crescent indents in his skin. “I’m all yours. Always will be.”

His thumb runs along your jaw and he smiles. She’s all mine.

The ridges of his dick form a delectable friction along your walls. Each thrust is a mutual give and take, an exchanging of selves with every breath. 

“I love you.” Eddie’s impossibly beautiful like this, hands holding your hips steady while sweat drips from his forehead onto yours. He brings your fourth finger between his lips; you can feel his tongue claiming it as his own. “And I’m gonna put a ring on this pretty little finger of yours, okay? Just want it to be perfect for you.”

You weave your fingers into his sleep-mussed curls and kiss him. “Don’t need perfect. I’ll marry you without a ring.” Whatever elaborate fairytale wedding you’d been crafting in your head is suddenly wholly unnecessary; all that matters is that you and Eddie commit to one another. But you know him well enough to not question his devotion to you. If Eddie Munson wants to give you the proposal of a lifetime, then that’s what he’s going to do. 

There will be no unkept promises this morning, no shattered hearts to mend.

He can’t hold back any longer, spilling into you with punctuating grunts. You receive every last drop gratefully, a part of him within you, and you finish for the second time today. 

“I meant it.” He gently withdraws from inside you, both of you mourning the loss of the other’s body. “When I said I’m gonna marry you, I meant it.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Eddie grins, laying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Sweat glistens along the sparse hairs curling over his bare chest. “Are you hungry? I know I worked up an appetite.”

You kiss his nose, biting the end teasingly. He yelps in mock pain, so you kiss it again. “I am, but I have to be honest—between all the unpacking and sex, I don’t have the energy to make breakfast.” 

“Me neither,” he admits with a laugh. “Why don’t we shower, wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges his head towards Harris’s room, “and go to the diner.” He stretches and stands, eyes drawn to the nightstand, where the framed photo from Wayne leans against a porcelain lamp. Happiness captured with the click of a Kodak.

You’re smiling, thinking about sharing silver dollar pancakes with Harris again just like you used to do with Grandma. Somewhere along the way, you grew from the child to the adult in that scenario, passing on a tradition you never even knew had been started. 

“That sounds amazing.” As you say it aloud, something in addition to hunger gnaws at your stomach. You’ve been putting it off, hiding from the truth, but you want to stop pretending. You want to feel everything that comes with accepting reality. Without sorrow, you would never recognize joy. Without grief, you won’t understand the depths of our love beyond the physical plain. 

“Could we make a quick pit stop first?”

Though it’s still morning, the late June humidity has your shirt clinging to you, sweat beading along the collar and around your bra clasp. You close the car door behind you; Eddie shuffles to open the back door for Harris. The little boy unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the booster seat, glancing between you and his dad. You take his left hand and Eddie takes his right as you walk over to the stone. 

“Hi, Grandma,” you whisper, crouching down to better see the engraving. Gently, your fingers dance over the etched words: Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. “I know I haven’t been by to visit you yet, but I’m here now.” You muster up a small smile. “And I brought Eddie and Harris with me. They…they loved you, too.”

You falter for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eddie’s hand rubs your upper back, not caring about how perspiration-soaked it is. 

“Do you want some privacy?” he murmurs. “Harris and I can wait by the car. You take as long as you need.”

You nod, watching them walk hand in hand to give you your space to grieve. Filling your lungs with a deep breath, you speak what’s been in your heart. 

“I need to thank you,” you start, talking directly to where her name is engraved, “for a lot of things. But I guess, um, the most important is how you taught me to forgive without taking shit—can I swear in a cemetery?—from people.” Your laugh is heavy with the weight of remembrance. 

“I miss you. A lot,” you continue, tears now spilling freely from your eyes. “I miss doing puzzles together. I miss cooking together. I’m going to try and make your applesauce for Thanksgiving this year. I think Harris will really like it.” You swallow thickly. “If you’d met him before you got sick, you would’ve adored him. He’s got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met.”

You’re finding it easier to talk; everything you need to say is coming naturally and without hesitation. 

“He’s…he’s living in your room. I guess, technically, it’s his room now. But a little part of me will always consider it your room, too. And I think that’s okay.” You nod, confirming to yourself that it’s all part of the process. “He keeps asking me and Eddie when we’re going to get married. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering the same thing.” You smile at the thought of marrying Eddie, maybe even legally adopting Harris, if that’s something they also want. “I’m not in a rush, though, but I really do believe that Eddie’s the one. He’s my person, and I’m his. So, yeah, I’m definitely hoping that he proposes sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I always thought losing you wouldn’t be as hard as it was, because it felt like I had already lost you to dementia.” It feels silly to admit aloud, but it’s the truth. “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be easy. But I promise, I’ll stop by more often, and I’ll have plenty of cute Harris stories to tell you.”

There’s just a bit more that you need to share before you can go. “I love you, Grandma. And…thank you for loving me, too.”

You stand up, pressing on your knees to ensure your balance. Taking one last look at the stone, you run your fingers over the jagged marble and turn back towards Eddie and Harris.

The little boy is perched on his father’s hip, squinting into the sunlight to make out your form. “You ready, Ms. Sweetheart?”

You blink through misty eyes, staring at the two people in front of you. Ten months ago, if someone had told you that your one-night stand at a dive bar would end up being the love of your life, you would have laughed in their face. But the universe does what it must to remain in balance, and it doesn’t humor any arguments.

Inhale, exhale, repeat. This is where you’re meant to be. This is who you’re meant to be: a partner, a friend, an almost-mommy.

“Yeah,” you say finally, the tears clearing from your vision and a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I’m ready.”

--

💚

[andersonfilms]

ray, your writing is so amazing 🤍

lowkey, i need a “i love you x i loved you” angst with abby and reader ‼️😔👀

❝ BET YOU WANNA LOVE ME NOW ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

tags: eighteen+,wc 2k, heavy angst, tw panic attack.

a/n: more than happy to fulfill this request for you, em. thank you for helping me even further bringing it to life. i love when our brains mesh. it's a beautiful and lovely thing. ily, mwah mwah ♡

daily click | palestine masterpost

Three months, shot after shot, week after week, you call. The dial tone you’re met with again. The hint is there for you to take but you steer clear from it, hoping to wipe out instead. She never blocks you, a glimmer of hope you call it. It’s the only sliver of silver lining you hold onto. Your friends take away your phone after the fourth call, trying to protect you from the inevitable hurt. 

You’ve hit rock bottom, the tequila burning through the remnants left of your senses. Stumbling in your boots before you find an edge of a curb to nestle on, the now empty body of the tequila bottle you’d emptied kisses the concrete. 

Everything reminds you of her. The soft laugh she would sing after a silly joke, the way she would hold you at night when you cried, singing her favorite song of the week when the two of you would get ready in the morning together. Just like tonight, Abby would be the one to hold you, dance with you, twirl you around the dance floor and now some other girl tries and it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. 

It’s a traitorous reminder someone else can and maybe, tragically, there’s another already filling your shoes with her. It’s the rude awakening you were in for, but you need it. You stop calling. Woefully, you let Dina and Ellie take you home, making sure you shower, hydrate, and slip into some clean clothes until sleep overtakes you. 

You throw yourself into work, it makes things easier. The only time you think of her is at night. When you’re entirely too lonely, somber floods your soul with the emptiness of your home. The absence of her presence rips you to pieces but it’s better than drunk dialing her into an abyss. 

Though she’s never said anything since, she’s probably glad you’ve stopped calling, the sobbing voicemails with soft cries of her name — would be too much for anyone to stomach yet you’ve subjected her to it. 

Cruelty. What you know best, right? 

You try not to think of it, leave it behind. Out of sight out of mind or something like that? Three more months go by and you’re on your first date. It’s going well enough, the conversation is good. She’s beautiful. Her brown eyes remind you of the honey you drip into your tea, soft caramel skin, the freckles dotting her face, and her smile? It grabs a hold of you. 

Maybe this could be good. This could be something. 

The way she tosses her hair, offers you to try a bite of her omelet, she asks questions about yourself and appears like she wants to know you. You’re enjoying yourself for the first time. The promise of your aching heart healing and the hope of something new makes you elated. Starting to believe it for just a moment, but then it comes crashing down on you like a tsunami wave. 

It’s far from town, tucked in the outskirts of town, you’d suspected to not see anyone here but you see her. She’s sitting outside on the patio, just like you, she’s working. The laptop in front of Abby has her full attention. Her veiny hands run through her golden hair for a moment before she’s taking a sip of her coffee, you presume it to be black. No sugar or cream, the one she normally takes the steamy beverage. As if she knows you’re watching, she slips the suit jacket off, left with only a white button up paired with a gray vest to match her slacks. She pushes her glass up as it glides over the bump in her nose. 

Abby looks like she gets a full night of rest at night. No dark circles are to be found as she’s put together like always. You try to focus on your date. Replies fall from your lips when necessary, you engage, compliment, smile insincerely, but more than anything you feel the bile swarming up your throat. It leaves with no other option than to choke. 

Baby blues shine at the waitress as she comes to check up on her — her smile gleaming with joy, the final knife to your throat reels you into turmoil. It slices you open in the middle of night, now you feel the trickles of blood leaking out from your heart. The wound is out of reach and only one healer can be found. How pitiful the one who can save you would rather never touch you again? 

Painfully, it’s almost as if she feels your distress. She finds you staring, jaw clenched as you look past the woman seated in front of you. An aching chest burns for her, the perplexed quirk of eyebrows and the slight tilt of her head tells you she’s just now seeing you. Meanwhile, for the past hour you’d been practically sweating. Not that the beam of sun left you much of an option. 

“Are you alright, love?” Her accent cuts through like knives, it feels loud. Too much? Too little? You’re not sure what but it’s simply not her. 

“M’good, promise. Let me just freshen up, yeah?” You need to breathe because it feels like you can’t. The weight on your chest feels unbearable as you attempt to catch your breath. Practically making a dash for the bathroom. 

You’re thankful for the singular bathroom as you lay against the cool, tiled wall. Your fingertips reach for the groves, in an attempt to calm yourself before a full meltdown overtakes. Just a flash of her blues sends you into your own, your mind latching onto every kiss, every moment of comfort, the hours you spent buried between her thighs. 

It reminds you of the feeling you’ll never find again. They’ll never be anyone like her again and it all was fucked up to the heavens to reap on, because you couldn’t have a little bit of faith. 

There’s a soft knock on the door, it leaves you reckless. It can’t be her? 

“I-, uh, occupied?” You muster, as you clutch onto the chain resting on your collarbones. “Hey, it’s me.” 

Your heart falls into your stomach, beat erratic at her voice. She’s speaking to you, just you. The familiarity of her soothes you more than expected. “Are you alright? You just ran off, and I just, I know how you get.” 

But you’re quiet, silent tears fall down the apple of your cheeks cascading further as they slip off your jaw. The blossoming feeling of her floods through like a never ending crashing wave. You’ve tried so hard not to venture into it, but she’s here. All it takes is one look in your eyes, she knows something is wrong. How do you move on from that? How can anyone? 

It’s a question you ask yourself, daily, but having it right in front of you is more unimaginably difficult to face. 

“Can I come in?” Abby asks and you let out a gentle okay. 

She’s here, in all her six foot glory, but the look in her eyes tells a different story. Distant, walled — just like when you had met her. Old habits die hard and all the two of you did was revert. She slowly walks towards you, until she’s in front of you, holding her arms behind her back. 

“How bad is it?” Abby inquires. 

“S-seven.” 

“Sit down, alright?” Gently, she offers her hand making you sit as you hiccup, your hyperventilating. Pulling a handkerchief from her pocket, she runs it under cool water before placing it against your neck, and then gently on your forehead. 

Abby wipes away your tears, whispering sweet words to comfort you. It’s been her specialty. No one could calm you down like her. There’s a center to her, pulling your wreckage into her tranquil sense of being. You wonder how long it took for her to have it again, she broke for you when you couldn’t even bend. 

She gave you everything yet you couldn’t give her an ounce of what she wanted. Yet, her innocent hands clean off your hands, as if it isn’t her own blood she’s ridding you of. 

“You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m fine.” 

“I know. I certainly don’t have to anymore. Do I? You’ve made that clear.” There’s a bite to her tone, but she still helps you. “Stop complaining and grip onto my hand.” 

You pause before obeying her command. Making sure not to intertwine, only holding and she applies tight pressure with the contact. 

“You’re clearly not fine.” Abby bitterly laughs. “I see nothing has changed.” She whispers so quietly to herself you almost don’t catch it. 

Her eyes catch your own and it feels the same as it did before. The words you could never tell her, the reason she left — they crave to come tumbling out. You focus on her strong hands, the veins popping out, how well fitted the vest is on her chest. She’s holding off on full compression, only if you need it. 

“What?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t, not when you’re like this.” 

“Just say it.” You spat. 

“You’re still afraid of me, of us, not that there is much left to be afraid of.” Abby sighs, biting her lip. Cursing at the gods above for making her fall for someone like you. You couldn’t give her what she needed and she moved on. 

They couldn’t even try for you, Abby reminds herself. 

“It’s okay. I just expected more from you when I shouldn’t have.” There’s no malice when she speaks, only laced with regret. Abby’s words wake turmoil within your heart, pulling at a thread until you’ve come undone. Then there’s her touch, the compression in your hand, the coolness of the handkerchief, it centers you. It’s chaotic, reckless and everything in between. 

It’s always been you. Not centered enough to hold her down or yourself, to anything. 

“I-I wanted to give more I just—” You try to explain, but they die. Just as they always have. 

“You can’t.” The minutes spent in silence the two of you looking in each other’s eyes as Abby allows herself to cling onto you. For just a moment, in the women’s singular bathroom, she allows herself to get some type of remembrance. 

She’s calm as she wipes away your tears, your breathing evening out, the grip on her hands loosens. The two of you lost in a moment, unresolved feelings come up bubbling. Abby lets you cradle her face in your pressing grip, it feels like acid on her skin but a familiar warmth floods in her heart. 

Unexpectedly, you’re leaning into her in the evanescence of her care. The possibility of finality leaves you clinging onto straws. Abby thinks you did, but part of her, maybe leans in a little bit too. Is it pity? Closure? A craving? 

Your lips gently mold to hers, she tastes the salty tears left on your lips and the raspberry balm you must have put on. It’s everything to you yet she’s not sure what it means. You’re trying to cling onto her, yet she pulls away far too quickly for your liking. 

“Please, don’t do this.” Abby picks herself off the floor. “You should go back to your date.” 

“But I—” The words die, again. 

“What? You can’t fucking tell me and you’ve never been able to. I deserve better than this, better than you.” 

“You’re selfish, god, why’d you kiss me?” 

“Because I wanted to?” 

“Yeah, exactly. Because you want to. Have you ever thought about what I want?” Abby pushes, shaking her head, seriously inquiring you to think about someone else besides yourself. “Did you think about me when you were drunk calling me every weekend, pleading to get back together while I was at home crying every night? Do you think hearing you heartbroken made me feel good?” 

Aggravatedly, she huffs. “That’s the problem. You always think of yourself and I’m just collateral damage. Couldn’t bother to give me what I wanted when we both knew you felt it. Just like keeping me in the dark for fun, huh?” 

Abby adjusts her tie, reaching for the door as she hears you. She does a double-take, not believing what she’s heard. Now? 

“What did you just say?” 

“I love you, Abby. Please.” Don’t go. 

She smirks manically, it’s too bittersweet. You couldn’t be bothered to give her what she craved but now one taste from her lips sends you into overdrive? 

Fuck you, is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“And I loved you.” Abby tuts, her jaw clenches, hands tightly clenching against the other, knuckles blown white in her misery. “I’ll still care about you. I always will but I could never love you. Not when I was pleading for something and you could only offer me nothing in return.” 

“Abs—” 

“No.” You’re shocked by her dismissal of you. “I never deserved this. I want someone who will love me and not be afraid of it. Who won’t treat me like shit when I’m begging for a lifeline. Hopefully, you can give that to the next one but it just won’t be me.” She leaves swiftly. All you're left with is the scent of mahogany and her handkerchief. 

thanks for reading! mwah!

[sematarygirls]

stop i’m literally so in love with your acc, it’s gorgeous!!!! missed you sm. need to start writing or creating something again tbh but idk what.

anywaysss had this super cool drummer!rafe idea where they’re all like mid-20s and were suspected of murder (maybe a roadie died or an ex bandmate??)

buttt there you are interning with the local police department (aka nancy drew nerd) and go poking around (woah somehow you end up in rafe’s arms what a coincidence). maybe he did it or maybeee he didn’t, who knows. ur just a silly little inter.. right?? unless ofc this wasn’t the first time you met and you both did it together?

anyways do what you wish with this, feel free to let it rot. ur a genius mastermind either way. ily mwahhh

(here’s some drew pics mini moodboard bc why not)

Partners In Crime — Rafe Cameron.

pairing: drummer!rafe x policeintern!reader

summary: your internship at the kildare county sheriff's department proves extremely useful after ex-bandmate of local rock sensation, morphine animals, is found murdered.

warnings: smut! semi-public sex, unprotected p in v, murder, inaccuracies regarding police work

word count: 3.6k words !

a/n: this request is AMAZING omg!! your mind is literally so incredibly brilliant. i am so incredibly jealous. i just want to scoop it out and study it because your plots are always so genius it's insane. also, i got a little freaky with this request. i don't know where it came from, but i hope yall enjoy. side note, i know nothing about police stations or internships beyond what I've seen on tv, so this is most likely very far from anything that would happen in real life.

✶ . ࣪ ׅ   You cursed quietly, swatting a mosquito away from you as your fingers danced along the collection of files, skimming through the box of evidence labeled "Ryder, Elliot". It was July, and the summer was in full swing. the air was thick and heavy, causing a layer of sticky sweat to cling to every inch of your body. The cramped storage room seemed to be at least 10 degrees hotter than the rest of the police station, and it had the added bonus of recycled air that smelled of dust and mildew.

Your gaze flickered between the door and the police report in your hands, readying yourself to be caught any moment now. Technically, you weren't supposed to be looking at anything in this room. You were simply an intern, and as such, your jobs mostly consisted of clerical work like running the front desk, answering phones, and filling out the occasional police report—typically for some misdemeanor offense that they had granted you competent enough to navigate your way around.

On a normal day, you did not have clearance to be in this little room with all the important documents pertaining to cases ranging anywhere from vandalism to first-degree murder. However, on this particular day, you had been instructed to organize and clean the records room, ensuring that everything was dusted off and placed in alphabetical order.

You knew you weren't really supposed to take a peek into any of these boxes, but when you saw the name Elliot Ryder on one of the boxes, you simply couldn't help yourself. It was the biggest case your town had seen in the last decade.

"Local rock legend Morphine Animal's ex-band-mate found murdered" had been splashed across headlines for weeks, each news site ranging from local to national discussing the case and their theories, but surprisingly much of the case had remained a mystery.

Morphine Animals had been practically untouchable ever since they skyrocketed to fame. It was truly fascinating how quickly they went from small-town rockstar wannabes to household names. They became a national sensation practically overnight, and it all started when Elliot Ryder was fired as the band's drummer and replaced by Rafe Cameron.

You remembered it vividly. Elliot went around telling everybody who would listen how he was cheated out of fame. The other three band members had been his childhood best friends. The band was their passion project and they had vowed to do it all together, but then, one night, they just dropped him out of the blue, and Rafe Cameron took his spot.

People couldn't help but wonder if the band's colorful history had anything to do with the murder. The whole situation would've made more sense if Rafe was the one murdered. It would be open and shut. Elliot killed Rafe to get back at him for taking his spot and stealing the fame that was "rightfully" his, but revenge just doesn't quite sit right with the case being turned around.

Rockstar drummer that has it all kills small-town drunk nobody? It just doesn't fit.

You turn your attention back to the police report in hand. You didn't have much time left before someone inevitably needed a file or came to check on you, so you needed to focus, read it, and put everything back where you found it before that happened.

Case Number 0608

Responding Officer: Sheriff Susan Peterkin

On 06/28/2023 at approximately 2100 hours, I responded to a noise complaint at 2971 Shorecrest Drive.

I knocked on the front door, but there was no answer. I announced myself as the police and knocked once more, but again, received no answer. I looked into the window for signs of life, and saw Elliot Ryder laying prone on the living room floor with a pool of blood around him. I immediately radioed for assistance and kicked down the door. I checked his pulse and discovered that Ryder was deceased. While I waited for assistance, I secured the scene. At approximately 2110 hours, Deputy Victor Shoupe, Officer Danielle Lyonne, and Officer Franklin Hewitt arrived on scene. Officers Hewitt and Lyonne canvased the surrounding homes and took their statements to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything. Their individual statements are enclosed. Deputy Shoupe called for the coroner and cordoned off the area while I began assessing the crime scene in a spiral method. Pictures included document the blood patterns and shattered glass discovered at the scene. No murder weapon was discovered.

I instructed Deputy Shoupe to stay at the scene and await the coroner's arrival while I headed back to the station. At approximately 2330 hours, I left the scene.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you read over the report. You used the back of your hand to wipe the beads of sweat that had formed on your forehead—created from a mix of the unbearable heat and your growing nervousness as the moments ticked by—stopping them from dripping down your skin.

Your gaze darted to the door once again before returning to the files, pulling out a series of pictures that documented the crime scene.

He was found on his stomach, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. The cause of death was blunt force trauma, and it was very evident from the crime scene photos.

You turned your attention from the photos documenting his body to the ones showing the state his living room had been left in. There was broken glass from a shattered mirror near the front door coating the carpet, and the living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado. Furniture had been turned over, his belongings strewn about in a disorganized fashion. It seemed like whoever had been there was looking for something.

Something in one of the photos caught your eye. It was small, almost imperceptible, but the flash from the camera reflected off something imbeded into the cream colored carpet just beneath the table that Elliot's body was found beside.

Your brows furrowed as you brought the photo closer to your face, squinting to get a better look.

The sound of footsteps approaching made you jump. You quickly folded the picture and shoved it into your pocket before placing the photos and police report back into the box and hauling it onto the shelf.

"Hey, kid," Deputy Shoupe peeked his head inside, the sound of him chewing his gum seemingly reverberating off the walls. You turned, your face flushed, and your heart practically beating out of your chest. You had managed to get everything in order moments before he opened the door.

"Uh, yes, sir?" You cleared your throat, brushing away a strand of hair that had gotten stuck to your sticky forehead.

"Boss lady needs the Ryder files," he informed you, still smacking his gum. The sound filled your ears, somehow louder than the beating of your own heart.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you turned and grabbed the box, the piece of paper in your pocket feeling like it weighed a ton as you carried the heavy box over to him. "Can I ask why?" You worked up the courage to ask, handing him the files, your palms sweaty as you pulled back.

"Just got done interviewing Rafe Cameron," he told you, propping the box under his arm. Your eyes widened a fraction. Why was Sheriff Peterkin reinterviewing him? Was there new evidence to connect him to the murder? "So, she wants to take another look at the evidence."

"Oh," you simply said, the room seeming to grow hotter. "Whew, god, it's hot," you huffed, fanning yourself. "Are you hot?" You asked, clearly not doing well at playing it cool.

"You alright kid?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow curiously at your odd behavior.

"Yeah, I think I'm just gonna step outside and get some air," you nodded, suddenly feeling very suffocated in the stuffy atmosphere.

"Sure, whatever," he shrugged, clearly not all that interested in you or your actions as he turned on his heels to deliver the box to Peterkin.

You hurried down the long, grey corridor, pushing the backdoor open harshly when you arrived at it. Outside wasn't much cooler, but the small, shaded alleyway provided reprieve from the sun's unrelenting rays. You took a few deep breaths, feeling better now that you were breathing fresh, clean air.

"You look like shit," a voice piped up. Your head whipped to the side, eyes finding the source. Rafe Cameron was leaned up against the wall, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was wearing a white tank top that clung to him like a second skin. the heat was just as unforgiving on him, his muscles glistening and his hair sticking out in all directions, a few strands clinging to his slick forehead.

"Excuse me," you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Truthfully, you knew you probably did look like shit. You were sweating like a pig, your clothes clinging to you uncomfortably, and after hours of running your hands through it and being subject to intense humidity, your hair was undoubtedly frizzy and wild.

Rafe pushed off the wall, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette onto the ground and crushing it under his boot. His blue eyes locked onto yours, amusement dancing in them as he approached you. "I'm just sayin'," he drawled, his voice a low rumble.

"Yeah, well, you don't look too hot yourself," you rolled your eyes. It was a lie, of course. Somehow, he even made sweating to death in the sweltering July heat look sexy. It was utterly infuriating.

He grinned, amused at your attempt to insult him, but he could see right through you. "You mad at me or somethin'?" His hand reached out and wrapped around your wrist, his grip sending shivers down your spine.

"You just said I looked like shit," you glared at him. The heat was making you irritable, and it didn't help that his stupid fucking earring—that you'd told him twenty goddamn times to take out—had showed up in a crime scene photo.

Rafe's thumb began to trace circles on the inside of your wrist, his touch sending electric jolts through your body. "C'mon, you know I was just teasing you, baby," he murmured, his voice soft and seductive. He knew how to play your body better than he knew how to play his drums.

You stubbornly pulled away from him, ignoring the way your body reacted to his touch. "You're lucky I got saddled with file room duty, asshole" you gritted out, pulling the picture from your back pocket and shoving it into his muscular chest.

Rafe wore a silver stud in his ear, a staple of his rockstar persona, and that little glimmer of reflected flash in that crime scene photo was that stud, which had fallen out during the murder.

Thankfully, it hadn't been logged into evidence and had been completely overlooked by the bumbling small town crime scene techs, so you only had to take the photo to keep that little piece of incriminating evidence from ever being discovered.

Rafe glanced down at the photo, his expression unchanging as he took it in. He looked back up at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "You worried about me, babe?" He asked, his voice laced with mockery, but there was a harder edge to it that betrayed his unperturbed demeanor.

"No," you shot back, your brows furrowing in frustration. God, the heat was making you bitchy. "I'm worried about myself. I mean, I covered up your little fuck up perfectly. The last thing I need is for you and your lame ass jewlery to fuck me over."

Rafe's hand snaked out and wrapped around your throat, his grip tight but not painful. He backed you up against the brick wall, his eyes boring into yours. "You think I can't take care of my own shit?" He asked, his voice a low growl. His patience was clearly wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He was already agitated at being ripped away from band practice to do this little song and dance with the police. The last thing he needed was you bitching at him and challenging his capabilites.

"If you could take care of your own shit, you wouldn't have called me in the middle of the night panicking because you fucking killed someone," you retorted, not backing down. You weren't afraid of him in the slightest. You knew what he was capable of, but it didn't scare you. In fact, there was a twisted part of you that liked knowing about his violent side.

Rafe Cameron had been the one to kill Elliot Ryder in cold blood, and he'd called you up moments after because he knew your experience as a police intern would come in handy. You had rushed over and helped him stage the whole thing as a burglary gone wrong. Unfortunately, Rafe hadn't realized his little wardrobe malfunction until it was too late to go back and retrieve it.

His face darkened, his hand tightening around your throat. "I had it handled," he hissed. "Until you showed up and decided to play detective." His other hand reached down, gripping your hip possessively. "You're supposed to be on my side, not throwing my mistakes in my face."

"Then stop making dumb fucking mistakes," you spat, your jaw clenching in annoyance. You could feel your panties growing wetter by the second, which only fueled your frustration toward him. You hated how he could still make you want him even when he was being a complete asshole.

Rafe's face twisted with anger, but beneath it, you saw a flicker of something else—desire. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your lips. "You know, I should just shut you up for good," he muttered, his grip on your throat unyielding.

"Yeah?" You asked, your voice almost taunting. "You gonna kill me, Rafe?" You looked him in the eye, not backing down. "Who's gonna clean up your messes then, huh?"

His expression turned grim, and for a monent, you thought he might actually do it. But, then, without warning, he crushed his mouth to yours in a rough, bruising kiss. His hands tightened further on your hip, pressing against your body and pinning you in place.

He bit down hard on your lip, drawing blood. His tongue darted out, lapping up the blood and soothing the wound as his thumb rubbed over your pulse point, feeling the way your heartbeat quickened with desire. His mouth tasted of nicotine, stale beer, a slight hint of mint, and then the metallic taste of your blood on his tongue. If it were anyone else, you would've recoiled in disgust, but something about him was intoxicating.

He was so close you could feel his bulge pressing into you, and it only made you want him more. You didn't care that you were pressed against a wall in the back alley behind the police precinct, in fact, something about it, the potential thrill of getting caught, turned you on more.

Rafe's hands moved to grip your ass under your skirt, roughly palming the fatty flesh with his rough hands. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, where he bit down hard enough to leave a mark. "You drive me fucking crazy," he growled.

"Yeah, well you're fucking insufferable," you said breathlessly, tilting your head to the side and threading your fingers into his hair as he continued his assault on your neck.

He grunted in response, his hands squeezing your backside painfully before he pulled away to fumble with his belt, the buckle clanking loudly in the otherwise quiet alley.

As he fiddled with his belt, you took your opportunity to latch your lips onto his neck, the salty taste of his skin mixed with the thin layer of sweat coating him danced on your tongue as you sucked and nipped at the areas you knew would drive him wild.

Rafe's breathing hitched as you marked him, his body stiffening. He finally got his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, shoving them down just enough to free his hard length.

He gripped your thighs, hoisting you up and pressing you hard against the wall as your legs wrapped around his waist. "Think you need to learn your place," he said darkly, pulling your panties to the side.

With one swift movement, he thrust deep inside you, filling you completely. He held you pinned against the wall, his hips rolling into yours in deep, punishing thrusts. "You're supposed to worship the ground I walk on," he muttered, his voice ragged.

You gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move, his powerful hips snapping back and forth as he pounded into you. His blue eyes, darkened with lust, locked onto yours, watching your face intently.

"Answer me," he demanded, his voice low and menacing. He slowed his pace, his hips rolling leisurely, his thick length stretching you wide. He knew his slow pace was like torture to you. "Tell me you worship me, baby."

"Fuck," you moaned, your face scrunching in a mix of pain and pleasure as the brick wall dug uncomfortably into your back. "I worship you, Rafe."

A smug grin spread across his face at your words, his pace quickening as he continued to slam into you, his hips rolling in that way that always hit that spot inside you, making you practically see stars. "Good girl," he praised, his lips finding yours again.

Your arms snaked around his neck, fingers curling into his hair and tugging slightly as his mouth swallowed your little whimpers and moans.

He released your mouth, his head tilting down to watch where you were joined. He let out a low groan, his body tensing as he watched himself disappear inside of you. "Look at you taking me so well," he gritted out, his pace quickening.

You gasped when you felt his thumb begin rubbing tight circles on your clit, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. "Such a dirty fuckin' girl," he growled. "Letting me fuck you in an alleyway, behind a police station no less." His lewd words only served to heighten your arousal.

His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you dizzy as he continued to pound into you. "I'm going to fill this pretty little cunt with my cum," he snarled, his voice echoing off the brick walls.

His words paired with his grip on your throat and the way he was pounding into you sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling back as you moaned his name.

His hand on your neck tightened possessively as you came apart for him, his own release following shortly after as he felt your walls squeeze down on him, milking his cock. He buried his face against your neck, his breathing hot and ragged against your skin. "That's my girl."

You panted, your head falling back against the brick as you caught your breath, your mind reeling as the weight of what you'd just done crashed over you. It was reckless and stupid to have let that happen, especially behind the police station you worked at. If anyone saw you, it could raise some serious red flags.

Rafe slowly lowered you back to the ground, pressing one last kiss to your swollen lips before tucking himself back into his underwear and pulling his jeans up, refastening his belt. He leaned against the wall beside you, lighting a cigarette as he looked you over with a lazy smirk. "Try not to look so guilty."

"Don't be an asshole," you shot him a sharp look, fixing your skirt and blouse. Now, you had to go back to work and act as if you didn't have a murderer's cum leaking out of you.

Rafe took a long drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow stream. He watched you intently, his eyes glinting with amusement as he observed you straighten your hair and adjust your collar, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. "I'll pick you up after your shift. We've got a few more things to discuss."

"You can't pick me up here," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Rafe raised an eyebrow, pushing off from the wall and taking a few slow steps closer to you. "And why not?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He knew very well why not, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"Don't play dumb, Rafe," you rolled your eyes. He could be so very infuriating when he wanted to be.

"Say it," he insisted, his voice firm. He took another step closer, towering over you. "Tell me why I can't pick you up here." His hand reached up, his fingers brushing against your cheek in a deceptively gentle touch.

You huffed frustratedly, narrowing your eyes at his insistence. "Because you killed Elliot Ryder, and I'm your fucking accomplice," you relented.

Rafe's hand tightened, gripping your cheeks firmly, his touch bordering on painful as he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Shhh," he whispered, his voice dark and threatening. "You shouldn't go around saying things like that, baby."

You glared up at him, your annoyance evident in your gaze. Everything always had to be a game with him, and sometimes it utterly maddened you.

Rafe's lips curled into a smirk as he pulled back, his hand falling away from your face. "I'll pick you up around the corner," he said, as if the matter was settled. He took another drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and heading down the alleyway to his car.

You watched him leave, your gaze burning holes into his back for a moment as he retreated before you shook your annoyance away, pulling the back door to the station open and heading back inside.

[jerefishvr]

could u do reader thigh riding xavier 👀

stormy nights ★

—xavier thorpe x reader

— warnings : fluffy smut , thigh riding, hair pulling, biting kink

summary : in which , at a cold stormy night locked in your best friend's dorm, heat arises and desire appears.

It was thundering,rain hitting the windows and lightning spread all across the sky. You were currently in your best friend's dorm, watching him draw something.

His skillful hands grasping the pen as his light brown hair fell in front of his face. He leaned back, putting the pen in between his lips in frustration as he couldn't seem to notice what was missing from his art.

"Hey, can you come here right quick and help me out with this?" He said in a frustrated whine as it was starting to get on his nerves. You nodded and quickly walked up to where he was at.

You examined the drawing, and you found absolutely no flaw on it.

"Xavier it's just your adhd, everything looks fine, don't worry about it" You smiled and looked at him as you leaned on his desk with your arms.

"Can I watch you draw?" You asked and you swore you've never seen him this happy, it was like a little kid getting in a candy shop.

His excited "of course!" caught you by surprise as he replied way too quickly. You laughed and continue watching him and the way his pen danced on the paper.

You suddenly felt a heat between your legs as you looked at the veins that appeared on his hands whenever he tried to add a certain detail with too much strength.

You pressed your thighs together and started secretly pressing down on that spot you needed relief on.

Xavier of course noticed it and halted his movements,a smirk now placed on his god-like structured face.

He touched your waist slightly and brought you down to his thighs.

"What are you doing there angel?" He asked in a low voice while looking in your eyes. A small whine left your lips at his question causing him to groan and drag your hips against his lap.

"Ride my thigh angel" He said in a demanding voice. As soon as those words left his mouth, you nodded right after,almost giving you a whiplash.

You grinded against his thigh, holding and grasping his shirt as you moaned. Xavier helped you with it, he held your waist and grounded you harder against his thigh, pressing against your core even more.

The howling wind, the thunderstorm and your moans combined together was like a new song to Xavier. His favourite song.

You rocked faster, biting his shoulder as to silence your moans while taking a hold of his hair to steady yourself.

He let out a moan at that, that caused you to press more on his thigh. You were 100% sure that his pants would have wet patches here and there from it.

"M' close oh my god" You said in a breathy voice. You almost couldn't even say it from the intense pleasure.

"Let go for me darling" Was all he needed to say to trigger your orgasm as you came with a loud cry and yelp of his name.

You were shaking in his arms while trying to catch your breath and he took your face gently in his hands, placing kisses all over your face.

"Shhh, it's okay, you did so good angel" He rubbed comfortingly your back while pressing small kisses on top of your head.

He carried you to the bed and laid with you under the covers, hugging you and bringing you closer to him.

He smiled at your sleepy state, you looked like an angel, his angel. You managed to give him a half lipped smile, your hands reaching out to intertwine with Xavier's.

"Good night zavi" You said and hugged his tall figure as he kissed your cheek softly.

"Good night angel" <3

A/n: sobbed my heart out this is so cute sorry idk if that's what u wanted but im in my soft feelings so yeah 😋😋 anyways OSMEVEKDH MY CRUSH TOLD ME ILY FOR THE FIRST TIME TWO DAYS AGO YALLLLLLLLL

[sminiac]

i’m still thinking about your post from earlier - but i started thinking about it with eunseok who just can’t help but groan into your ear when you clench around him as you’re both trying to sleep. he’d have his arm around your waist, chest against your back .. tries his hardest to keep composed but you just feel so good clamped around his thick cock, takes everything in him to not just beg you to let him fuck you!! instead he decides the best thing he can do is make you beg for him, breathing heavily into your ear, asking you if you’re comfortable and taking note of how your voice waivers a little when you speak.. taking it as his chance to ask you “don’t you think you’ll feel more comfortable stuffed with my cock after you’ve came around it?” .. and you know it’s wrong, you know he’s friends with your ex but you can’t help but press back against him, can’t help but lace your fingers through his that are on your stomach and whimper for him to fuck you. he’s so quick to do it. fingers gripping yours, other hand wrapping around your neck as he fucks you silly. ends up pressing you onto your back and laying his weight on you, wrapping his arm around your neck and fucking you with his face buried in your skin, the way you moan his name just makes him want to fuck you harder .. told you that you’ll sleep better after you’ve came around his cock but he finds himself too insatiable to let you sleep after … promising to make you cum multiple times if you’re willing ….

aha … sorry i’ve been thinking HARD ily cutie 💗

What a thing to wake up to, Melo you, your brain. ILY.

Lemme drop in my 2¢ while we’re at it. I think that since he’d have been waiting to get you to himself for a long time coming that his attitude would be very different to what little you’ve noticed when he’s around the members, he’s still pliant in your presence, beckoned by your word so easily, but the more you pursue something way past a general friendship, or at least a mere acknowledgment of his presence- the more his phlegmatic manner starts to dwindle.

Does his best to keep himself still whilst seated in deep behind you when you’re backed up against his chest, the expanse of it new against your frame, one you find yourself subconsciously curling into more and more, it makes his jaw squeeze, legs strained by trying to hold himself back from driving his hips forward.

Squeezing around him and shifting your hips to see if you can pull out a verbal reaction from him, and though some would be satisfied just with the feeling of his tight grip you need more, need to hear him, to know that he’s enjoying it as much as you are. Is the whole act selfish? Maybe, but you knew that Eunseok being so quick to agree lessened the impact of future consequences for having your ex’s best friend’s cock keeping you full and content for the night.

At first he’d be so short with his words, almost shy in a sense, but once he realizes the mess you’re making all over his thighs under the blanket, and the the subtle rock of your body then he’s suddenly so confident, knowing you’re just as needy as him.

The hand on the neck??? I’m so weak, him pressing wet kisses anywhere he can reach, so eager to please but simultaneously so firm in his voice when telling you to: “Stay still- fuck, like that. God.. feel so good baby.” And the hand resting over your stomach part, gosh, makes me think of him guiding your hand to press further down until you can feel the faint bump of the tip of his cock pumping slowly into you, has you whining, curling your head away in sheer pleasure as he asks: “Y’never felt him here, have you? Ohh, my sweet girl, won’t ever have this spot untouched again.”

Gets off on knowing that even though there was someone there before him that he managed to easily exceed the limits set by your ex, and he’s so vocal about it, wants you to know just how much better he is.

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 12

wc: 2.6k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), reader flirting with Jay for strategic reasons

warnings: sort of kind of dubcon ish only bc reader uses a truth serum on someone but it's contextually ethical and nothing shady happens, made up wonderland plants by yours truly, reader shakes them feminine wiles to get info in a very sfw way

summary: you brew a special blend of tea with the sole purpose of spilling tea with a friend of Mal's.

song recs: what baking can do - waitress OBC, power and control - marina, something bad - wicked obc

a/n: your outfit (it's the same one as ch11), also HI I MISSED YALL. things have been CONSTANTLY happening and good news is I'm finally on the right dose of adderall so I was able to knock out the last part of this chapter in like 20 minutes or smth lol. ily all and if I missed you in the tag list just hoot n holler at me in the tags!!

also candorcorn root is a made up plant that makes people tell the truth, and neutrestnuts are a made up wonderland chestnut that neutralize things

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Your mind is reeling as you go over the elements of the strategy before you again and again. You have the candorcorn root - from the right side of the plant, of course - in a small pouch. You carry it into the school kitchens, gather the rest of your ingredients, and lay them out in a meticulous sort of mise en place. You let out a long puff of air out of your pursed lips, staying in a deep focus as you begin to do something you’ve done a thousand times before.

Brew a pot of tea.

You brew the candorcorn root into a strong concentrate, so strong it makes your eyes water. You set it aside to boil down as you settle on what the body of this beverage will be composed of. Candorcorn root is known for having a strong, bitter taste - sometimes with a sweet aftertaste depending on the truth that’s revealed, but you’re not counting on a particularly sweet truth under the current circumstances. 

To hide some of the earthy bite, you begin making your own blend of different dried herbs, spices, and tea leaves. You start with a base of English dinner - it’s much too late in the evening for English breakfast, even in tea form - then carefully whisk in a little bit of matcha. Once that’s steeping and nicely blended together, you muddle in a few fresh cranberries. You add in a healthy dose of your favorite Port Royal vanilla to lighten the flavor profile and minimize suspicion. 

Feeling mischievous, you add in a few mint leaves to the mix. After it brews together, you waft the steam into your nose. It smells… irresistible. Your mouth waters, and you scribble down the recipe on a napkin to make again later - sans the candorcorn root concentrate, of course. You check your pocket watch, and the time for action is growing nearer and nearer. You bite the crook of your finger in consideration. 

Your mother always used to tell you, the way to a man’s stomach is through his heart, and the way to his heart is through his chest cavity. You suppose it would be a rather good, sensible decision to have a backup plan of sorts. As bizarre as it is to think, you are aware that not everyone drinks tea - especially not as often as you do. You hum and rock on your heels anxiously, eyes darting around the kitchen as the self imposed deadline you’ve set marches coldly closer. 

“Wait,” you murmur, freezing as you get an idea. 

You begin digging through the kitchens as quickly as you can, looking for a few things. If you can get them together, you won’t need to worry about ensuring the specialty tea is consumed in full. You rifle through cupboards and pantry shelves, gathering chocolate spread, a large box of fluffy, cake-like cookies, hot chocolate powder, and a small jar of currents. You look around some more, huffing in irritated frustration at the lack of proper tea biscuits in the kitchen. 

Your disappointment is short lived, however, when you remember the large supply of tea biscuits you always carry around with you for just this sort of emergency. You reach into your teapot bag and pull out your sewing kit, then proceed to swiftly open it up and dump out all the biscuits it contains. Your sewing supplies is kept in a biscuit tin, of course, otherwise you’d get them all mixed up and find yourself hemming your trousers with snickerdoodles. A preposterous idea, of course, everyone knows that biscotti are best for mending trousers. 

The last crumbs fall and you’re brought back to the task at hand. Or rather, at foot, since that’s where the rest of the crumbs land when you stuff the empty tin back into your bag. You let out a shaky but determined breath, and begin to get to work as swiftly as you can manage. You falter once more, realizing that gloves are most likely in order here. You can only find your backup gloves, white and silky with a little pearl in the center of each wrist, but you suppose they’ll have to do.

It’s with a surgical sort of precision that you begin, soaking the biscuits in the candorcorn root concentrate just long enough to get soft around the edges. You lay out each biscuit meticulously, then slather them in a layer of chocolate spread and thick whipped cream. You repeat the process again and again until you’ve a little stack before you. 

Once satisfied with the deceptive desert before you, you top it off with more chocolate spread and a heavy dusting of powdered cocoa mix, sure that the sugary chocolate will balance out the earthy, bitter taste of the candorcorn root. You garnish the top with a few strategically placed dried currants, spelling out eat me along the top. 

You remove your gloves, careful not to get any candorcorn root on your bare hands, then make up another little pastry. The second one, however, is free of any Wonderland serums or juices, and instead is garnished with a few comfits from the container you keep with you - a habit you’d picked up from your mother. 

You next prepare a perfect cup of your brew, then a second containing your secret ingredient. Gloves, of course, are worn during that second step. Your cup is garnished with a piece of fig, the other with a cherry stuck along the rim of the tea cup, bleeding down onto the side. You place everything onto a silver tray, as tenderly as if you were in the middle of diffusing a bomb, and exit the kitchen with it in your only slightly trembling hands. 

You let out a steadying breath as you ascend the stairs in the great hall, making the turn towards the boys dorms. Stopping at an open window, you let out a whistle, signaling to a waiting bluebird that you’re ready, and to send word to your companions for the evening. You walk down the hall as silently as a ghost, only stopping when you hear rowdy yelling coming from behind a particular door. Your heart pounds in your chest, and after a few thrumming pulses, a large cat pads up to you, accompanied by a doormouse. 

“Alright,” you breathe solemnly, “it’s now or ever.” 

The doormouse skitters up to the knob, slipping into the lock and popping it open with a click. It slides down and scurries to safety, and you do the same, moving a few feet away and hiding in an alcove. The cat, brave and noble, slowly enters the room via the now ajar door. It only takes a few moments for the chaos to ensue. 

The silent, still hallway is filled with a riot of barking and yowling as the cat speeds out of the room like a bolt out of blue. She’s followed, of course, by Duke; and Duke is naturally followed by Carlos. They all shout and skitter down the hall, around the stairs, and deeper into the school until they’re out of earshot. You steady yourself, wait a moment, then poke your head into the room, now only occupied by one person. 

Jay.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask coyly from the doorway, blinking up at him. Jay seems surprised to see you, and answers around button mashing his way through the level he’s playing. 

“Uh,” He replies, distracted as he continues to look at the screen. “Yeah.”

He lets out a long string of curses as he takes a nasty hit, hemorrhaging hp when he’s nearly done with the level. There’s still a chance, and he continues to fixate on the screen. 

Perfect, you think.  

Using your foot, you gently nudge the door closed with a click. You reach behind you, flicking the lock closed, and walk forward. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your winning streak,” you say with a cute smile, deliberately stroking his ego. “I just couldn’t wait until morning to tell you what an amazing job you’ve been doing at tourney.”

That gets his attention. Some of it, at least. 

“Oh, word?” He asks, smirking as he glaces away from the screen a little more. You nod, humming sweetly in response. You keep your eyes trained on him while you reach into your bag and slip on your gloves. You pick up his tiramisu and slink over to his bed, breaking off a moist, chocolaty bite with a fork. 

“Your athletic performance was… nothing short of inspiring.” You say slowly, bringing up the fork to his lips. “I bake when inspired.”

He chuckles, getting that cocky, flirtatious look on his face. He opens his mouth to reply with something you could only assume would be cockier than a spaniel, and in that moment, he presents the perfect opportunity for you to ensure he eats the first bite of your special pastry. He startles a little, then hums in approval at the enticing taste. You hand him the plate and offer him the cherry garnished tea, then remove your gloves, careful not to cross contaminate your dishes from his. 

“This is really good,” Jay says, and you smile more slyly than a Cheshire cat. “So,” you begin, dragging your fingertips across his wrist when he accepts the beverage from you, “tell me.”

You lean in like you’re utterly fascinated by him, like you can’t wait a moment more to learn all there is to know about him. 

“How is it that someone as…” you trail off with a breathy sigh. “Rugged… as you is still flying solo, as it were?”

You take a sip from your cup, gaze locked onto his, scrutinizing each quirk of his brow and twitch of his smirk, searching for anything he might reveal beyond his words.

“Well,” he starts, puffing his chest and acting all cool and nonchalant. “You know, playing the field is a full time job.”

“Both of them.” You hum. He looks at you blankly. You shake your head. 

“Nevermind.” You murmur. You can feel yourself growing antsy. You’re not sure how long your dear cat friend will keep Dude and Carlos distracted, and Jay’s had enough candorcorn root syrup to testify in front of a parliament of owls. It’s time to cut through the detritus and root around until you find what you’re really here for. You set down your teacup, leaning forward.

“Dating must be so hard coming from somewhere like the Isle.” 

He starts to answer, but you don’t pay much mind, continuing your train of thought. 

“It’s just… if someone as enticing as you hasn’t been locked down yet, how is it that Mal managed to get a prince like Ben wrapped around her finger so quickly?”

Jay puffs out his chest, laughing at your flattery and taking another bite of the tiramisu. 

“Well, I’m not really at liberty to say,” he starts, leaning casually and flexing his arms as he stretches. “But let’s just say Mal really worked her magic on him, you know?”

He laughs, and your stomach sinks. You have to remind yourself to manually laugh along with him. 

“Really,” you tease, leaning closer. “And what sort of magic would that be?”

“Oh, you know Mal and her freaky mind control thing.” He chuckles, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes to mimic when hers glow. 

“But when you’re out on the tourney field…”

He continues boasting about his sportic success, but your mind is entirely elsewhere. Mind control. Of course. You wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner. Mind control, the same trance Mal’s mother used to lure Aurora up to the spinning wheel. Your heart starts thudding painfully in your chest as your mind races, grappling with the ramifications of what this could mean, the danger Ben and all of Auradon could be in. 

You stand up quickly, reaching into your tea pot bag and pulling out a few neutrestnuts you’d snagged from your last trip to Wonderland. You smack one loudly against Jay’s bedpost, cracking it open in one swift movement. Before he can ask what you’re doing - or even realize you’ve stopped listening to his ramblings about tourney - you’ve pushed the nut inside his mouth. 

“There we go,” you say, watching him to ensure he eats it. “There’s your after dinner nut. They’re all the rage in Wonderland.”

It’s a lie, but not one he needs to worry about. You gather up the remaining tiramisu and tea cups, leaving his dorm quickly. The neutrestnut should take effect and neutralize the honesty that comes from consuming candorcorn root, so Jay will be back to rights quite soon and be none the wiser. 

You wrack your mind as you try to figure out where you can learn more about dark fairy magic. Not much is known about it, and what is known is heavily debated by both magic experts and members of the fairy community. You pause, remembering something, something that sits just on the tip of your tongue. The Museum of Cultural History has Maleficent’s staff on display. Maybe there’s some information there, something too specific for the usual library catalogs. 

You check the time on your pocket watch and see the little hand is pointed to the words Hurry On Now Hurry Girl, The Doors Of Wisdom Are Nearly Closed!

Realizing the time pressure cooker of a pickle in which you find yourself, you take off like a bolt of midnight blue, rushing across campus to get to the museum on time. You’re sure you can persuade the guard to let you stay late, being from the Wonderland Embassy and all. When Alice Liddle of Wonderland is your mother, people tend to go along with any strange or unusual requests you make. 

You reach the museum just in the nicknack of time, catching the guard’s eye just as he’s about to lock up. After a rush and babble of explanations, he concedes, letting you in with a concerned nod. You’re not quite sure he’s following what you’re saying, but you’re in, which is really all you’re troubled with at that moment. 

“Oh- uh, I suppose so, Miss Liddel.” The guard agrees. “Just make sure to check in with me before you leave.”

“Thank you so much-” you glance down at his name tag. “Neil. Truly, thank you.”

He nods, accepting your gratitude. Before you can leave, he chuckles lightly.

“Doing some studying for parents day?” He asks with a smile. 

The archive is in your sight, but you stop in your tracks. 

Parents day. 

In the tizzy you’d been swept into you had totally forgotten parents day. Will you have enough time to prepare? You must. There’s really no way around it. Maybe if you can work quickly enough, you’ll be able to get back to your dorm soon enough to get everything ready by morning. You turn to Neil with a smile you hope comes off as sincere and not panicked. 

“Precisely.”

You enter the archive quickly, rushing through titles in hopes of spotting one that reads To Miss Liddel, Within Contains the Answer to All Your Troubles. Just like you’d expected, and unlike you had hoped, that particular book appears to be nowhere in sight. You don’t lose hope, though. You find a treasure trove of old, dusty, complicated books that each contain a little breadcrumb of what you’re looking for. 

You just hope you can gather enough to form a loaf before daybreak.

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree 🌳 • Part 3

3/7

read previous chapter here

(gif by @basilone)

Rosie invites Y/N to London for the weekend.

warnings: none, except lots of fluff <3

thank you to my darling friends @sagesolsticewrites & @ginabaker1666 for reading this multiple times over the past week. so grateful for you both ily.

The sun has finally parted through the clouds and covered Thorpe Abbotts in a luscious golden warmth with a slight breeze underneath it, whooshing through the thick green leaves, leaving a feeling of refreshment as you walk through it. You're happy that the weather has chosen to behave itself for once and you're finally able to enjoy it, due to it being a Bank Holiday weekend.

Your lazy Friday morning consists of sitting in your favorite armchair, still in your pajamas, hair still in their curlers, sipping a warm cup of tea and flipping through the latest issue of your favorite magazine. You remain in this blissful daze, turning pages and sipping in this deliciously cozy cornucopia you've entwined yourself into, until you hear a sharp rap on your door. Expecting it to be Mrs Howell from next door, clutching her flour box in the hopes of stealing a scoop or two from your bag to make her famous rock cakes, you answer the door without a second thought to your appearance.

On your wonky slate doorstep is Rosie, looking extremely handsome - as usual - in his dress uniform, the green coloring of it perfectly suited to his brown hair, which in the glow of the sun, you can see shining, a few red hints coming through it. You feel your eyes widen as you look down at yourself, suddenly embarrassed.

“Hi, sweetheart,” He says enthusiastically. He steps over the threshold and plants a kiss on what it meant to be your cheek but is more towards the corner of your mouth. You don't mind. You, in fact, reciprocate, your mouth absentmindedly pouting near his ear, making a kissing sound but making no contact with his face. “My, don't you look wonderful this morning. Fresh as a daisy.” You giggle, feeling your cheeks reddening.

“Hi, Rosie,” you reply sweetly, pulling him into your living room. “Tea? The pot is still warm.”

“Yes, please.”

---

After you're both settled with warm mugs in your hands, sitting in opposite armchairs, you lean your head on your hand and stare at him with a soft look in your eyes, your elbow on the arm of the chair to keep balance. “This is a nice surprise,” you say sweetly. “What's it in aid of?”

“I got a weekend pass and I'm going to London. I'd like you to come with me.”

“Rosie, I–” you stutter, mulling over his offer.

“Come on, Y/N,” He urges. “I want to take you dancing, and show you good jazz music.” He smiles broadly, his eyes growing wider with each word. You bite your lip in pretend consideration, humming a little, his face suddenly bearing an expression of suspense. “Rosie, I'd love to,” you laugh. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Then you'd better go ahead and pack,” he laughs.

---

You keep up the coziness on the train. Sitting opposite one another, you both read companionably, exchanging passages every so often. Soon enough, Rosie stops reading his book altogether, his head resting on the back of his seat. “Will you read to me?” He sees your eyes light up at his request, and he smiles softly. “Of course,” you reply, clearing your throat. “How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't.”

As you keep reading, you find your legs draped over his, his big, lovely hand upon where your Bobby sock sits, peeking out of your patent shoe. You sit like that, his hand stroking your leg ever so delicately, his fingers dancing over your skin as you watch him drift off to sleep. Suddenly, the brave man you'd been spending time with is replaced by a vulnerable little boy who needed a bedtime story to fall asleep to. Feeling your heart melt a little, you close the book as silently as possible, and watch him sleep as the countryside zooms by the window.

---

Ever the gentleman, Rosie had escorted you to your hotel room before going upstairs to his own. The room was surprisingly spacious: a large queen bed, a couch and a small desk tucked in next to a large window. You could imagine that pre-wartime, that the view would have been something to sit and gaze at. However, the window only showed you crumbled buildings below, people sifting through pieces of what used to be their home, discarding whole bricks into wheelbarrows and continuing the search for their belongings, under a cloudless blue sky that doesn't seem to fit the melancholia below it. The place is eerily silent, the only noise breaking through being an occasional birdsong.

---

Rosie had told you to be ready for 7pm. You'd napped in the lovely big bed, taking a boiling hot shower right after. Your usual bath time at the cottage looked a lot different: warming up water in a large pot over the roaring fire to dump into your copper tub. Hair washing was done over the sink, your back aching to place your head under the taps. A shower was a luxury, and you definitely took advantage of being able to wash your hair and body in the same place.

You glance at the clock after finishing up your makeup: 6.55pm. You feel nerves bubbling up inside of you as you place a yellow swing dress over your head, fumbling with the buttons as you will your hands to stop shaking. The sharp rap of knuckles on the door shocks you out of your anxious daze, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Rosie's mouth opens to say hello, but the words seem to get stuck in his throat. His baby blue eyes soften at the sight of you, his mouth slightly agape. “Woah, Y/N,” his voice just above a whisper. He shakes his head, awestruck, seemingly trying to find words.

“What? This old thing?” you smile demurely, feeling your cheeks turning pink at the way he's looking at you. He breathes out, puffing his cheeks a little.

“You look beautiful,” He says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your cheek. “What a privilege it is to have you on my arm.”

---

The buzz of music hits you the second you walk into the dark club, horns blaring so loudly that you have to shout in one another's ears. Placing his hat down on an empty table, he offers you his hand, and immediately spins you on to the dance floor.

Spectacularly unfit and feet aching, you sit and watch Rosie dance with as many pretty dames that can get their hands on him. Taking such pleasure in watching him spin these girls off their feet, you sit and watch him intently, heat rising through your body. Not totally sure what this sensation is, you try to push it aside - but you're done for the second you see him smile, his eyes wrinkling as he dances to the music, totally in his element.

Each girl finishes the dance by kissing him on the cheek, one even planting a smooch on his mouth that catches him by total surprise, his eyes widening. You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand as he walks over from the bar, clutching a martini for him and an Old Fashioned for you.

“That sure was…something,” he says, his eyes darting nervously towards you. You laugh again, and cup his cheek to get him to look at you, then pulling his ear towards your mouth.

“I don't blame them one bit, Robert,” you smile into him, both hands now on his cheek. “Pretty dames like handsome men.” He pulls away, smiling sweetly at you, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of the club. You both grin at each other like that for a moment, before he gestures for your ear.

“Maybe,” He pauses, swallowing. “But you're the only pretty dame I want kissing me.” Words caught in your throat, you lean over into the small space between you and kiss him on the cheek. A slower song starts, Rosie pulling you to your feet once again.

“Heaven, I'm in heaven,

And my heart beats so that I can hardly speak.

I seem to find the happiness I seek,

When we're out together, dancing cheek to cheek.”

You're not sure who moves first, but you don't seem to care. Noses touching as your faces move closer together, when, finally, his mouth is capturing yours. Your hand leaves his shoulder and gently toys with the curls on the back of his neck, his plush lips moving in sync with yours sends butterflies through your entire body. His hand falls to your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand cupping your cheek with his thumb stroking it softly. You both break apart with a sigh, noses rubbing slightly.

“Oh, Rosie,” you whisper as the song concludes, him unable to hear it but reading your lips. He takes your hand and kisses it, leading you out of the building.

---

There's a silence between you as you wander down the quiet street, hand in hand. You shiver slightly, the chill of the night air shocking you a little. Without missing a beat, Rosie peels off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders, the warmth enveloping you straight away, his sweet floral scent emanating from it. He takes your hand once again, thumbs stroking at each other's hands. A small, sweet gesture that seems to say “I'm here. I'm safe. I'm happy.”

The mixture of the freezing night air, the alcohol and the feeling of Rosie's hand in yours sends your senses haywire. Before you can think, you pull him into a dark doorway and kiss him deeply. He reciprocates immediately, as if he'd had the same idea but was too nervous to follow through with it. Breaths mingling, you pull on his tie to get him impossibly closer, your bodies flush against one another's. His hands in your hair, yours on either side of his face…it's magical. Nothing has ever felt this good before, and you feel your toes curl as he moans into you, somehow trying to make the kiss even deeper.

“Oh, darling,” you murmur as you break apart. His pretty blue eyes lock on yours as he takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut for just a second.

“I need to ask you something.”

“Anything, Rosie,” you reply, leaning in to kiss him once again. He kisses your mouth three times before having you look at him.

“Will you be my girl? I know it's a little quick but–” You silence him with another kiss, smiling as your lips touch again.

“Yes, darling. Yes a million times.”

chapter four

masterlist

[jayjmaybanks]

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☆ about me:

pronouns: she/her

animal & nature lover, directioner since 2011 (ot5), biologist and photographer by day - fangirl blogger at all other times, scorpio

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[lucienarcheron]

Spirit Meets the Bones VII

Genre: Angst/Romance Warnings: Mentions of physical abuse.

shoutout to my darling @abruisedmuse for keeping me sane! ily <3

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Find it all here.

The Forest House seemed to fascinate Iris. Eris watched her expressions as he took her through every corner of its sprawling complex, through the trees and rocks woven within it, and even through its uppermost levels which was the only level visible above the ground. 

With every sentry they met and various staff that roamed, he was acutely aware of how she watched his interactions with them and Eris made it a point to introduce her as often as the moment would allow it, but only to the right people. He found that Iris was very good at playing the shy wife, even as, much to his amusement, she muttered obscenities at him.  

He took her through the tunnels a few levels into the stone and they went through a ballroom, training rooms, and the large kitchens. Eris watched with mirth as she scarfed down the quick lunch the kitchen staff hastily prepared for them. 

It was highly unusual for any member of the household to be down eating in the kitchens and Eris knew they were nervous with him there but Iris...he watched in curiosity as she quickly made friends and eased their apprehension with a few jokes. Her eyes would flicker to him each time, as if to make sure she was acting correctly, behaving as expected and it made his stomach clench. 

It was such a stupid thing but a survival instinct he had mastered early on. One she mirrored and caught on to very quickly.

There wasn’t a corner they hadn’t reached and though it had taken them well into the afternoon before they made their way back up to the wing housing his mother and the music room, Eris could tell she was impressed.

“Not as suffocating as you imagined?” he asked with a smirk and gave her a pointed stare.

“No. It is not,” she said with a chuckle. “But I appreciate you taking me outside first. It’s made me appreciate the inside more.”

“You’re enamored with your new home as you’re enamored with your husband then.” He asked, his smirk widening.

“I’m enamored with the idea that there are so many places I could murder you in.” She said with a sweet smile.

“I aim to please,” Eris said, nodding graciously, giving her a mock bow and Iris rolled her eyes, giving him the finger.

“My mother’s chambers are to the left and if you go straight down to the right, we have the music room,” he explained with a chuckle then pointed. “If you’d like to go ahead while I check in with my mother about dinner, you can. Or would you like to come with me?”

Iris shook her head with a smaller smile and started walking ahead. “I’d rather look a little more polished before I meet her...I'll see you when you’re finished.”

Tucking her smile into his heart, Eris did a double-take at the thought then grimaced. He wouldn’t overthink it. He took a breath and turned towards his mother’s chambers. 

The conversations that took place between them as they continued to spend time together were...interesting. She asked him about everything and though Eris answered to the best of his ability, it was still strange to him that she wasn’t running off. Or attempting murder. 

Knocking, he waited for permission before stepping in and smiling at his mother who welcomed him with a wave.

“Mother.”

“My son.” was her affectionate reply and the tips of Eris’s ear heated. 

Planting a kiss on her cheek, he rested himself on the arm of the chair she was resting in, a book in hand.

“A second visit in one day? Has Iris tried to stab you again?” she asked with a coy smile.

Eris chuckled. “She tried to bite me but all has been well since then,” he replied. “I’ve been giving her the tour and she seemed to enjoy it.” 

His mother smiled and looked behind him before meeting his eye again. “I’m glad to hear that. She isn’t with you now?”

“She’s slipped ahead to the music room but we both wanted to know if you’d be available for us to join you for dinner?” he asked with a small smile and Lady Enya beamed. 

“Of course! I’d love for you two to join me!” she said and sat up, placing her book down. “I’ll have our staff make a lovely feast for us.”

“She wanted to spend time with you and thank you for the clothes.”

Lady Enya waved a hand. “She doesn’t need to thank me for anything but I’m so happy she wants to have dinner. I wanted to ask you this morning but didn’t want to push,” she said with a chuckle.

Eris nodded and waited for a heartbeat before slowly saying, “She met the hounds.” 

Her eyebrows went up. “Oh?”

“They...were surprisingly very receptive to her.”

His mother’s lips twitched and she sat back. “Were they now?”

“My terrifying hounds were like putty in her hands,” he grumbled without any real heat. “Those traitors loved her.”

 “Did they?”

“What does that look mean, Mother?” he asked with a small scowl and his mother chuckled.

“I don’t know, Eris. What does it mean?” she teased and his scowl deepened.

“Mother.” 

She chuckled again and squeezed his hand. “I'd say it means they know that you like her.”

Eris blinked and digested this for a moment. “Well. She is my wife.”

“Mmm. I suppose.”

Eris grunted, squinting at his mother’s smile, and rubbed the tip of his ear. “We...are still getting to know each other. I do not mind her so far.”

His mother rolled her eyes. “Yes. That’s exactly it,” she said with a small snort. “Because you don’t mind her.”

He weighed his next statement, his heart thundering in his wretched chest and his mother watched him with a knowing smile. 

“It’s been...surprisingly easy,” he muttered. “To tell her things.”

“Good. It should be,” she replied. 

“No. It’s too easy,” he said quickly then frowned and added in a whisper. “I’m unnerved. I don’t like it.”

“It’s because you’re not used to it.” his mother said gently. “The only other time you did, it didn’t end well but that is not the case here.”

Eris’s frown deepened. His mind had never been so torn over a female like this. His only justification was that he’d never been married before so naturally, this should be normal. He blinked.

“Is this normal?” he asked in a quiet tone and his mother gave him a bemused smile.

“What, exactly?”

Eris waved a hand with a grimace. “These...mixed emotions.”

“I think you need to stop overthinking it.”

“Why.”

“Because you will cause yourself more stress than you already have."

Eris narrowed his eyes at his mother’s expression, but he finally shook his head at her response. His mother was right. He didn’t need to overthink it. Didn’t need to read too much into it. 

“I thought it would be more awkward, that’s all.”

“How much more awkward do you want it to be with the threats and all?” His mother said with a snort and the corner of his mouth lifted at the noise. “She seems to have spent much of her time alone...maybe she’s also wanted someone to talk to.” 

Eris thought about this for a moment. It seemed to make sense. But again, he didn’t want to overthink it and only narrowed his eyes at his mother who chuckled.

“Your mind is always trying to find the snakes. I don’t think she’s going to be one of them,” she added and Eris nodded slowly. But then his mother chuckled again and Eris frowned, his cheeks coloring.

“If you keep making fun of me Mother, I’m going to stop telling you anything.” 

This only made his mother laugh again. “It’s just — it’s delightful to see you so frazzled over a girl,” she said with a smile. “Your wife, nonetheless.”

“Delightful,” he said dryly. “Yes. I’m thrilled you find this so funny.”

“I’m interested to see what else you two end up sharing together.” 

And again, Eris felt like a prepubescent boy embarrassing himself in front of his mother. Judging by the very knowing look she gave him, she enjoyed it too much. “I’m going to catch up with Iris,” he mumbled. “We’ll see you at dinner, then?”

Smiling, she patted his hand. “Yes! I look forward to it, my son.”

“Look forward to what exactly?”

Both Eris and his mother froze, their eyes locking. Eris swiftly stood, clasping his hands behind his back, and turned to face his father. 

“Father.”

“Son,” Beron replied, his eyes slipping to his wife who had sat back, her eyes on the book. “What is it you’re looking forward to, dear?”

Eris clenched his fists at the word, meant as mockery rather than a term of endearment. Tension immediately filled the space as Eris looked at his mother and smiled tightly.

“Iris and I were planning to have dinner with Mother,” Eris said and Beron quirked a brow. Knowing he couldn’t avoid it and even though he hated to say it, he added, “You are welcome to join us, of course.”

“Ah, so the daughter-in-law will dine with the mother-in-law? How charming.” Beron said with a bite and the tension in Eris’s shoulders tightened. “When were you planning to have her meet with me?”

“Whenever you wished, Father. I know your schedule is full so it would’ve been at your preference.” Eris replied and Beron tutted.

“You always line your words up so neatly, son. As if I can’t smell your lies.” Beron said with a threatening smile. “If you had it your way, I’d never be in the same room as your little wife. Are you so attached already?”

Eris’s mouth went into a thin line. “We’re still getting to know each other.” 

Beron snorted. “I’m assuming you put her in her place last night. Her father mentioned she needed a heavy hand,” he said, shooting his son a look and then turning from them towards the chair opposite his mother. “I won’t allow you to embarrass me by letting your wife walk all over you.” 

Anger flared through every bone of Eris’s body and it took every ounce of self-control not to snap his neck on the spot. 

“She won’t.”

“I should hope not,” Beron said, the smile now having a cruel edge to it. “You aren��t one to be controlled by a pretty cunt since you learned your lesson long ago. Remember that.”

Eris’s whole body shut down and roaring filled his ears. Gods, how desperately he wanted to snap his neck and be done with it. Kill him on the spot. Run his sword through his gut as many times as possible and watch him bleed out.

“Beron.” Lady Enya said, her tone sharper than it ever usually was with him, snapping Eris out of his thoughts. 

The High Lord turned to his wife in amusement. “Yes, dear?”

“She’s your daughter-in-law. There’s no need to speak this way,” she spoke and Beron scoffed at her.

“But of course, dear. I shall mind my tongue as you always mind yours,” he replied then turned back to his son. “We’ll see you and your wife at dinner. I look forward to chatting with her.”

Eris clenched his jaw then nodded curtly. “We’ll see you then.” he ground out and before his father pushed his last button, he swiftly left the room. 

He stood in front of the closed door for a moment, just to check — to make sure his father didn’t lay a hand — but he let out a breath when he only heard the clipped conversation and his mother slipping into the next room.

He needed to breathe more deeply. He needed — He needed his father dead, desperately. But not yet. His mother still needed time.

Eris rolled his shoulders back, running his tongue over his teeth then made his way to the music room. Iris was likely wondering what had taken so long but —

How would she react now that she had to spend dinner with his father as well? That was definitely not how it was supposed to go.

With a clenched jaw, tension rose through his body again and he made his way to his wife. The taunt of his past lover rang in his ear with each step and Eris’s fists clenched again. 

He stopped in front of the room and found the door ajar but before he stepped in, he forced himself to take another deep breath. He didn’t need to let Iris know how he felt. Eris could keep it together. He knew better than to let his father rattle him. And yet...

Eris stepped into the room but Iris’s attention was fully on the grand piano. She must’ve already gone through the other instruments as she was now standing in front of it, her face thoughtful. 

He watched silently as she reached out a hand and touched a key, the sound resonating through the room. The corner of her mouth ticked up and she pressed another, the sound going through the room once more. Stepping closer to the instrument, she let her hand glide across the set of keys and her smile widened at the sounds. 

The chuckle that slipped her lips seemed to douse some of the anger in him. 

He cleared his throat and strode slowly towards her. “Enjoying yourself?”

Iris turned to him and gave him a small smile. “I suppose.”

“Is it to your standards?”

“It’s beautiful. Perfectly tuned.” 

“Then why aren’t you sitting to play?” 

Iris sighed, pursing her lips while glancing at the white piano, their reflections shining off of it. “Sometimes I’m not sure if I love playing or I hate it.”

Eris leaned against the piano and glanced at his wife, watching her facial expressions. “Because of why you had to play?”

“Because I’m supposed to do this and nothing else. And I hate that.” 

The lick of anger he was feeling from his father flared at the implication of her own father’s behavior and he spat, “Well, that’s not the case anymore. You can play because you enjoy it. And if you don’t enjoy it, then don’t play.”

Iris turned to him fully at his tone and Eris tried to curb his anger, tried to ease the tension in his shoulders but she seemed to see right through it.

“You’re angry,” she stated quietly and Eris noted how her eyes snapped to his clenched fist. 

He quickly unclenched his hands.

“I am,” he stated simply and Iris met his gaze. 

“Why?”

Eris ran his tongue over his teeth and it took him a moment to unclench his jaw.

“My mother will be happy to have us for dinner,” he said and Iris gave him a confused look.

“That’s... a good thing?”

“Yes,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back and clenched his fists once more. “But my father overheard and will be joining us as well.”

Iris grimaced. “Oh.”

“Yes,” he said. “And that is why I am the way I am right now.”

Iris fidgeted slightly, wringing her hands. “Is it going to be bad?”

“Yes.” he replied tightly. “If I know my father...he will make it bad. We will really have to sell our roles.”

Iris observed him for a moment and Eris let her, finding that looking at her seemed to ground him. He didn’t need to be too angry. It would be fine. He didn’t —

“Come. Sit with me,” she said and Eris blinked as she slipped onto the piano bench. She glanced at Eris and patted the space next to her. 

He glanced at the space and then at her again before he slowly slid down next to her. She seemed to hold herself more rigidly than expected and it was then he noticed her eyes on his clenched fists again. A pang went through his chest and he immediately relaxed his hands once more.

“I will only cause a disturbance if I start pressing on these keys,” he said dryly and Iris chuckled, though a little nervously. 

“That’s why I will play and you will listen,” she said quietly and looked at him. 

His expression softened into surprise. “Really?”

“I did say maybe,” she said. “Today seems to be your lucky day.”

The corner of Eris’s mouth lifted and he nodded.

She nodded in return then looked away, back to the keys. He watched her take a deep breath and look down at the keys, a slight fondness in her gaze. 

Then Iris started playing and his heart skidded inside his chest at what had to be one of the most beautiful melodies he had ever heard. 

He watched her play, mesmerized, the notes seeming to rise off the piano and fill the space around them. He could almost see the music floating around the room, shimmering around them. He could feel it indenting itself into his bones.

Whatever tension that was previously in his body seemed to drift out of him as Iris’s fingers made magic. Eris watched her, his eyes locked on her face as she played, her own eyes closed, a small smile gracing her lovely face. He swallowed as the melody washed over him, soothing without a salve. 

His shoulders drooped and Eris knew his expression had fallen into awe. He felt...he wasn’t sure how to describe it but he felt. 

His eyes never left her face as she continued to play, the melody bringing him to an emotional edge he hadn’t quite experienced in a long time and Eris seemed to lose track of time. He forgot where they were and what they were supposed to be doing. All he could remember was that he was Eris and she was Iris, her melody a thread pulled taut between them. 

His Iris, that was causing stars to shatter inside him.

His Iris. His wife.

A wife that had made him share more than he had shared with anyone in such a short amount of time. A wife he wanted a real life with. 

A wife that was making him feel things he wasn’t sure he was allowed to feel.

After what Eris could only imagine was a blissful lifetime, Iris slowly came to a finish, the final note vibrating through the room even though he desperately didn’t want it to end.

A blanket of silence covered them as Iris’s hand hovered over the keys and Eris blinked rapidly, rolling his shoulders back, trying to ease the goosebumps all over his skin.

She opened her eyes and took another breath before she turned to look at him. “Did you like it?” she asked softly. 

Eris had to try swallowing several times before he could finally reply, glancing at her in wonder. “That was beautiful.” He whispered and Iris flushed, a genuine smile blooming on her face.

“Thank you. Moments like this remind me that indeed, I do love playing,” she said with a chuckle but she looked away from him, her eyes now on the keys. “You shared a few things with me today that must’ve been difficult. This is me sharing a little something with you.”

Eris swallowed once more then blinked, his expression a mix of reverence and terror. He quickly realized this was going to be a bigger problem than he expected. 

Quickly realized that if she kept making him feel things he was going to be irrevocably fucked. 

That he needed to warn her again —

“Iris.” he said but she shook her head. 

“Don’t say anything else about him.”

But how could Eris not warn her again? His father would rip her to pieces. He would destroy her and Eris would have to — he would need to —

Her hand came to rest atop his. The third time she’d touched him voluntarily today. 

“Dinner will be fine,” she said calmly. “We’ll make the best of it.” 

Eris took a deep breath and instantly flushed, his emotions catching up to him. He had never let his feathers get ruffled like this. 

“Was that an attempt at sorcery with that particular song?” he joked, his voice not entirely steady and Iris’s flush deepened, her lips twitching.

“It’s...a song I like to play when I need a moment. A favorite of mine. It feels like magic.”

“That it does.”

Eris felt her eyes on him but he couldn’t look at her again. His eyes were focused on her hand atop his.

Dinner would be fine. It had to be fine. 

“It will be fine.” she said, as if she could hear his thoughts. “I will watch what I say.”

And he hated that she had to. Hated that they both had to watch anything they did. Before he let the sourness overtake him, Eris swallowed again.

“Do you like to dance?” he asked quietly and Iris blinked at him in surprise at the question. He only looked at her, wondering if she could see the image that had come to life in his mind of the two of them dancing to her song.

She bit her lip, letting a second pass before she shook her head. “I never had a proper partner.”

“Well…it’s a good thing I’m an excellent dancer then,” he said, attempting his previous bravado and Iris raised a brow then chuckled. 

“I suppose I can learn to enjoy it if you keep your hands in the right places.”

Eris chuckled, some of the tension in his body easing. “You’ll need to define where those right places are, little gazelle,” he said, the corner of his mouth going up as she rolled her eyes.

“The places that won’t end up with a knife in your chest, husband.” 

He chuckled again and despite her threat, Iris smiled at him. “Let’s go freshen up before I have to pretend to whimper and wince for your father,” she said and patted his hand. Just as she stood to move, Eris tugged on her hand gently.

It was Iris’s turn to eye his hand on hers.

“I hope you play this song again,” he said quietly. “When it’s a good moment too.”

She met his gaze and he felt her heartbeat vibrating at the same frequency as his own.

“I hope so too.” was her quiet response, color blooming on her cheeks. She gave him a small smile and slid away from him, Eris’s eyes following her, watching as her fingers flexed at her sides, listening to the erratic rhythm of her heart.

Many thoughts crossed his mind as he slowly stood, following in her footsteps but the one he allowed himself to dwell on was that they needed to rearrange their living chamber. A piano would be required.

[thisismeracing]

King of my heart | MS47 | part. 06

Pairing: hamilton!reader (she/her) x mick schumacher

Warnings: curse words, twitter environment, mention of food, not proofread etc etc. Minors DNI!

summary: after a week away for work, Y/n is back to follow the race calendar and this time she decided to join the drivers party. What a bit of alcohol and a week away from Mick could do to her? Hopefully, nothing that exposes their situation too much.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

part. 05 | series masterlist | part. 07

theofficialyn

liked by mickschumacher, pierregasly, and others

theofficialyn Such an amazing day wearing Valentino! 💗 But today’s tip is: don’t do a photoshoot with your older brother, he will absolutely make you laugh all the time 🧍🏾‍♀️

view all 9,456 comments

violadavis Love you two!!!! 💗

⤷ htgawmfan What multiverse is this???? Queen Viola and the Hamiltons?! Im here for it!!!

maisonvalentino we loved the laughing shots, such a great duo 💘

ynfashion Please, tell me Valentino is gonna update more stuff because I’m starving for content and you guys keep feeding me crumbs *cries in obsessive*

lewismerc the fact that Lewis kept making her laugh is so pure

lewishamilton ��

⤷ theofficialyn blocked!

⤷ sunshineferrari I wanna be their friend so bad

pierregasly Charles was so jealous, he said you should invite him next time!

⤷ lewishamilton tell him she’s MY sister, he have two brothers

⤷ charles_leclerc exactly I have two brothers and now one sister 😇

⤷ tifosiitaly the way charles is getting under Lewis’ skin is sending me HAHAHAHAH

fan2 💘💘💘💘💘💘

hate123 Funny how it's outed that she’s Lewis's sister and suddenly she’s representing Valentino…

⤷ theofficialyn LOL My shoe brand has had a partnership with Valentino for years now, this is nothing new 😘

⤷ popyn yes, queen! put these haters to sleep

lewishamilton

liked by justinbieber, mercedesamgf1, and others

lewishamilton Grateful for the invitation from Valentino 💖 I had a great time! (And yes, YN was absolutely judging)

view all 7,983 comments

theofficialyn not funny, delete!!!

sirlewis9 Lewis, I hate to break it to you, but both of you were judging

charleslechair The banter is so older brother energy. I love them

danielricciardo Looking good, mate! 🖤

maisonvalentine 💘 An honor to have you two!

theofficialyn added to her story

paddockgossip

liked by yndisney, and others

paddockgossip Y/n and Mick are at the same party and rumor has it they are looking pretty cozy, all hugs and sharing drinks. If you have more tea our dms are open!

view all 3,209 comments

1990yn where are these pics from?

⤷ fortyfourlewis mick’s from lando’s story and yn’s is from lilys (alex’s gf)

sainzcentury Schumi boy is looking good. Go get your man, yn!!!

gaslygaslight patintly waiting for the videos from the party so I can scan one by one looking for yn and mick kissing in the background 🙏🏾

⤷ user1 LMAO can you imagine?

mickmercedes I wanted to be at this party so bad 😭 can you imagine their energy while drunk????? unmatched!

mickschumacher added to his story

this story was deleted

theofficialyn

liked by pierregasly, mickschumacher, and others

theofficialyn Great night but not so great morning 👎🏾

view all 6,230 comments

illicitaffairs2 not the noodle in the car on her way to the paddock ☠️

lewishamilton water and sun waiting for you in here, the best cure

⤷ theofficialyn please, I’m going for a swin with rocks inside my pockets 🤒

pierregasly the best party partner ever!!!

⤷ charles_leclerc excuse me?

ynnature can you imagine being hungover and having to hear the vroom vroom from the paddock all the time??? lmfao

⤷ f1sainz but theyre not racing, just training and general work stuff

⤷ paddockprincess its still loud tho

lilymhe ILY!!!

********************

If you liked it, make sure to like and reblog <3 feel free to talk to me as well, my inbox is always open! And I will start a taglist on my posts, to be part of it you just gotta comment/send an ask saying so, and most important: have your age in your profile (I don’t interact with minors!). See you guys next post! <3

wanna be tagged on my stories? click here

[rudy-sport]

Warning: Rudy gets VERY sappy and a lot of people are abt to be tagged n told how radical they are IM SORRY THAT YOURE GETTING A STUPID NOTIF LIKE THIS

So the past.... Month. Has been very eventful. Coping with a rough break up, work being hard. I'm almost 21 I kinda figured it'd be rough being in my 20s. I really was expecting it to be the end of the world, but then I made a really good choice.

I joined a few discord servers over this month, and I can't begin to explain just how wonderful that's been for my mental health.

I've made so many new beautiful friends who just mean the world to me, and those new friends along with old friends and my beautiful angel wife who's stuck with me while we both heal, it's just nice.

I wanna say a few words [or a lot words. I'm a yapper] and I jus wanna really detail my appreciation for the following people.

@your-pal-smoochins, my perfect angel wife. You and I have had a lot of things against us. You've been such an amazing support system through these past couple years and I don't tell you enough just how much I love and appreciate everything you do for me. You lift me up when I really need it and I've never felt more loved than when you've been by my side. Thanks for being my rock, my sun moon and stars, and just thank you for being mine. You do so much more than you give yourself credit for, having escaped the situation you were in and going to college. You're so strong, and you're my beautiful angel forever.

@carbonateddelusion Rox! You were one of the first friends I made when everything got locked down and my first memory of you was drawing some of my guys. I dunno if you know but those gifts are still in my phone. I look at those and your newer stuff and I'm just beyond amazed at your progress. You've been a really amazing friend and I love you, man. You really rock, rox [yes that was on purpose]

@toondamien Damien!! one of my very first tumblr friends and the guy who lets me use his oc for my story stuff! You're a little older than me, and as such you've kinda been a role model to me. I still look up to you [metaphorically, hehe] and I'm glad you're my No. 1 DSAF mutual. You're great, dude.

@springlucked Spring. Though we only started talking recently, you are still someone I consider a dear friend. Your fics got me out of some really bad art blocks and my really low days. While Dearly Detested makes me cry and fills me with just the right amount of emotions to break a tree in half, you are so awesome. Your writing is so good and you're so humble when you get gift art from people regarding your fics. You are like a slightly bothersome little sister and for that I love you, ya lil punk.

@dexabite Dex Dane Dexabite Freakabite Miller Jekyll Jade [not real name. obviously] my sworn enemy /j. Your art rocks. Your art inspired a lot of my more detailed pieces and your character design stuff actually made me wanna branch out more not just with character design, but also poses and colors! You're an inspiration to this guy who mainly draws that dumb orange boy and ily /p

@igottoo MJ!! Like if I was a second person! You rock dude. Your art? slaps. Your animation? slaps. Your insane jokes? Slaps. you unintentionally gave me a pose reference that made me leap out of my comfort zone and yknow what? People loved it!! And thats because you're so cool! We scarily have a lot in common so the reasonable assumption is we are in fact the same guy [silly] but i love you to BITS /p. My lagomorphed brethren and the guy I'll be sending my Dave doodles to before showing the public. You're a bro, dawg. As the No. 1 Old Sport fan I'm VERY glad I'm best pals with THE No. 1 Dave Miller fan.

thank you all for being my friends. You guys make my heart full and make me wanna keep working towards being a good person

[leclerced]

hi its me again, the og blindfold anon… (loving the way the idea is loved sm omg)

also lando blindfolding her again but this time it’s multiple guys she has to guess from,, and he doesn’t let her finish until shes gets everyone right but its rigged somehow,, like maybe a new guy that they’ve talked about previously so its not like an ultimate shock but she’ll never think it in the moment so she’s struggling 😭

STOP??????????????? BUT NEVER STOP PLEASE???? oh my god. forgot u said she cant cum until she gets them all right so if she guessed right she got to cum and then i reread ur ask halfway thru and was too lazy to fix it so sorry bout that but ily🫶🏻 hope u enjoy

it’s charles, max, oscar, carlos, and daniel lined up in front of the bed while she’s naked, blind folded and her arms are tied above her head. lando’s sitting in a chair brought in from their living room behind them. they’ve just got done with the season and lando asked if she wanted to play a game with his friends, she assumed monopoly. she should have known better.

he made sure she was completely comfortable with it first, the only iffy part was that she hadn’t actually fucked charles yet. they’d talked about it plenty, but he just hadn’t been brought in yet. now was the perfect time to, he thought. so he’d tied her up in their bedroom and invited them all over, told them the rules of the game. they couldn’t say or do anything that would give away who they were, she could recognize their voices, and oscar liked to spell his name on her clit- they all found out that little trick when lando called him out because she could recognize the pattern and would know it was him if he did it- and with that, he led them into their bedroom. they’d each go down on her until she was about to cum, and then they had to stop. she’d guess who it was and if she got it right, she got to cum, if it was wrong, she didn’t and the next guy would get his turn.

daniel went first, and the feel of broad shoulders between her thighs immediately made her think of him. she was sure of it when his arms hooked around her thighs to pull her closer and he was bobbing his head between her thighs like a man starved. she moaned his name as he orgasm began approaching, praying she was right about it being daniel. she was rewarded with an orgasm that was still subsiding as the second contestant swapped places with daniel.

the hands were rough as they manhandled her, hands grasping her calves as he pressed her legs up to her chest before diving right in. max hadn’t had her in this position before, so he thought changing things up might confuse her, but within a minute she recognized the feel of his mouth against her and was moaning his name like a chant, his scruff a telltale sign of who he was. she was rewarded with another orgasm and was feeling confident with two correct guesses. this was an easy game, she thought, she was going to win hands down.

it changed when the third pair of hands began touching her before max even left the bed. this time, she couldn’t tell who it was at all as they kissed her stomach and thighs and let her settle from her second orgasm. their touch felt familiar, but she couldn’t place who it was as their lips found her center. she was rocking her hips against his face and suddenly thought she recognized it as george, the soft fluffy hair tickling her thighs, and when he didn’t stop immediately, she grew more confident and began moaning george’s name. her confidence was completely shattered as he pulled away just before her orgasm hit and lando sighed across the room, “you were doing so good, pet. not georgie though.”

she wanted to cry as she rolled her hips into nothing, the spot between her legs abandoned. she was alone on thr bed for a minute before she felt a ringed hand on her thigh as the bed shifted. the rings made her instantly think lewis, but the touch was softer, a little hesitant. it felt like pierre, the sweet french boy who was always eager to please her and listen to her instructions. she doesn’t want to immediately jump to conclusions, so she keeps her mouth shut until she’s on the brink of her orgasm, the ringed fingers now curling inside of her and she hesitantly whines, “pierre?” and then the mouth and hand between her thigh are gone and she feels the weight disappearing from the bed. a sob slips from her lips and she presses her hips into the bed, “no-no- no please- who was it? i was so sure.” she hears max laugh and mutter something she can’t make out and then she hears a chorus of laughter, and there’s one she recognizes but can’t name. she wonder’s who it is, if he’s already touched her or if he’s next.

her mind goes dizzy as a new set of hands finds her body and pulls her thighs apart, she hadn’t even realized that she’d been pressing them together for some kind of stimulation until they were being wretched apart. she whines and tugs on the silk ties, aching to bury her fingers in whoever’s hair. he presses his mouth to his inner thigh and begins kissing his way to her center, his tongue dipping out to taste her sweat slick skin. oscar almost moans as he places his mouth on her and begins lapping at her cunt. the mouth feels so familiar to her, she wants to say who it is immediately, she knows it’s oscar, but the last two incorrect guesses make her second guess and she keeps her guess to herself.

her moans are music to his ears as she rocks her face against his hips, he flattens his tongue against her and lets her grind on him for a moment before he begins fucking her with his tongue. she tries to sneak an orgasm, but clearly whoever is eating her out can tell she’s getting close because just before she cums, they pull away. she goes slack in the pillows and whines pitifully, and oscar wants to chastise her for trying to cum without permission but he keeps his mouth shut. when she doesn’t guess immediately, lando asks who she thinks it was. she huffs in annoyance, “i can’t tell. i-i thought i was right last time and i wasn’t.” she sniffles a little and oscar thinks she’s crying under the eye mask. he gently strokes her inner thighs, hoping she’ll guess who he is correctly so he can get his mouth back on her.

he thinks back to the first time he tasted her, how it was just like this, and he teasingly dips two fingers into her entrance as he brings his mouth back to her center to try and give her a hint, tongue lapping lazily at her clit so he won’t accidentally send her crashing over the edge. she instantly clenches around him and rocks her hand down, seemingly remembering that night too as she gasps, “oscar?” he nods into her cunt and begins eating her out with more purpose, speeding his hand up between her legs until she’s moaning his name as she cums around his fingers. his touch is gone before she’s ready and she’s tugging on the silk ties pitifully to try and bring him back to her.

lando’s voice is loud and clear when he speaks again, “so pet, you got 3/5. gonna give you one more chance to guess each one.”

she feels hands touch her and she knows it’s the gentle fluffy haired man from before, not the ringed one she thought was pierre, and she lets her mind run through who else has hair like that as she rocks her hips into his touch. he’s gentle again as his lips find her center, he sucks and laps at her teasingly to work her up as slowly as possible. the knot in her stomach feels more like a braid that he’s pleating as his tongue swirls over her bundle of nervous and she suddenly remembers her boyfriends old teammate, the broad shoulders and silky hair, and she moans carlos’s name. the pace suddenly picks up and she moans it more confidently as he pushes her over the edge for the fourth time. lando praises her as carlos leaves her body and she’s drunk on the compliment.

she’s snapped out of her daze when cool rings touch her skin and she tries to think of who else wears jewelry, who’s fingers she’s felt buried ring deep in her but she can’t think of anyone. they’re slow and gentle like carlos, but she’s so sensitive from four orgasms that the feel of his rings pressing against her entrance, such a unique sensation, almost has her cumming within a minute of his mouth being on her and he has to pull his lips from her clit. he keeps his fingers inside of her as she gasps and rocks her hips up, searching for enough friction to push her over the edge but failing. lando doesn’t ask her to guess this time, so charles waits until he thinks her orgasm has subsided and drops his mouth to her center. he can’t believe this is happening, much less like this for the first time, and he’s dreading when this game is over because he’ll have to leave and go fuck himself thinking about it.

she’s so pretty above him as she fights the silk ties and rocks her hips down onto him, moaning and gasping for air between moans. he works her up to another orgasm before he pulls away and watches her body sag again. “i-is it- i- i’ve never fucked him right, lan?” she’s so hesitant to say the wrong name again, she doesn’t want another ruined orgasm.

lando grins from his seat and nods, then remembers she can’t see him, “that’s right pet, i brought you a new toy.”

her mind immediately snaps to charles and she says his name without thinking, then regrets it because it could be so many other people. instead of feeling his fingers leave her like she expects, she feels his lips on his stomach as he whispers, “good girl.” and then his mouth is on her and she feels a hand on her forehead and the blindfold is being pulled off. she meets lando’s eyes momentarily before she tilts her head to look at charles and her fifth orgasm hits her just as she meets his eyes and he bats his pretty lashes up at her, nodding as he moans into her and she’s gone. lando unties the silk around her wrists as she shakes underneath them, and she immediately moves her hands to tangle in charles’s hair as she comes undone on his mouth and fingers. she didn’t even realize the other men had all left until charles was inside of her and lando’s whispering in her ear that she was so good for them, he thought she should get to enjoy her new toy before he goes home. charles’s mind spins at being one of her boy toys, happy to be a plaything for her pleasure and entertainment.

[vibratingskull]

"hi there, i love your work!! i always re read them and giggle to myself lmao. you’re really out here carrying the thrawn fandom on ur back ily!! can i request thrawn x chiss!wife reader who is pregnant? just some soft fluffy stuff?? i feel like thrawn would either be really chill about the pregnancy, or really dumb and just start freaking out about the smallest things hahaha tysm!!!" - anon

For you my dear, fluffy fluff with Thrawn a bit on the spectrum

You're slowly cradling yourself in the rocking chair, making a good work of your needles in the fabric. You decided to do a snowy rabbit this time. Since you took your maternity leave you spend all your time informing yourself on the pregnancy or sewing different plushies and little clothes for your future baby. You have a whole collection now. 

You hear the shuffling of a door, it’s surely Thrawn who came back from his work day. What did he bring back this time?

“Ch’acah, I am here.” He says loud enough to be heard in the whole apartment.

“I’m in the bedroom.” You respond, doing your last stitches.

He appears in his military uniform, a package under the arm as you predicted. You grin, shaking your head. You wait for him to explain. He walks up to you and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I came across some interesting things.”

“I see that, like every evening for the past two months…”.

You don’t hold that against him, this is how he cares. He reaches for the bag and proudly takes out a rectangular box, you squint to read what is written on it.

“My first… canvas.” You snort, this is so on brand.

“I thought it would be great to help them express themselves through art.”

“You realize they won’t be using it for several years, you’re a bit early for that...”

“Nonsense, infants play with paint of bright colors as soon as they can sit up.” He preaches.

You shake your head with a broad smile. God you love this man. But you’re not dupe: if he buys so much art furniture it’s because he wants to be able to communicate with his child. He already has some difficulties with adults, children as young appear to terrify him. You already saw him hold the baby of a friend and it was not his most glorious moment. He had a freeze moment when you announced to him the news of your pregnancy, before exploding with joyce but you did notice. And then he spent his nights reading and reading about children's communication and psychology like it was an impermeable enigma to him. The elated smile he wore when he announced to you about babies' early interest in artful activities was heartwarming, finally something he could understand. Since then he bought as many artsy toys and activities he could starting by colorful cubes and modeling clay.

You take his hand, and look him in the eyes with tenderness.

“Thrawn, I know you’re scared. I am too. But everything will be alright because we will be together.”

He squeezes it and lowers his head, his thin smile dying.

“I am terrified… What if they don't love me because I can’t meet their needs in some way?” He murmurs.

You shake your head gently, and try to rise up, a bit destabilized by your round stomach. He immediately reaches for you. You pull him in a hug.

“I understand you. But you will surpass it, because you’re the most competent man I know.” 

You take his head in your hands, forcing him to look into your crimson eyes full of confidence.

“I know for a fact that they will love you and be proud of you as a father! You know why? Because nobody loves like you do.”

He puts one hand on yours and and rubs his cheek against it.

“May you be right, ch’acah.”

“I am! I alway am, remember?”

It forces a chuckle out of him.

“Yes.”

You spin on yourself to retrieve the bunny and show him. You smile like a child handing it to him.

“What do you think?” You ask.

He carefully observes the plushie.

“Another one?”

“You have nerve for a man who buys toys each evening. The nursery is full to the brim!”

He smiles.

“It is perfect. I would have loved having it in my youth.”

“I can sew you one now! You would be adorable sleeping with a bunny in your arms!”

He puts down the plushie and wraps his arm around your waist to the best of his abilities.

“Why would I need a plushie when I already have you in my arms?”

He kisses your forehead.

“Vile flatterer.” You grin

“Skillful admirer.” He correct.

You snuggles against him, appreciating his warmth you sigh contentedly. Suddenly you feel pain in your stomach, you lean forward holding your belly.

“Ha!”

“What is wrong ch’acah? Are you in pain?” He asks worriedly

“No, I think…” You pause a second to analyze what just happened “I think they kicked me.”

You take his hand and place it on your belly, sure enough a second kick was given against his palm. You laugh, elated and surprised : it’s their first kick. You look at him with wonders in your eyes. 

He’s shocked.

The eyes wide and at loss for words, he kneels and places his head on your stomach, awaiting, trembling. Another powerful kick. An incredulous laugh escapes him.

“They are strong!”

“They are like you.” You caress his hair.

He kisses your stomach.

“My child.” He hugs your form “I will always be there for you…”

@bluechiss @thrawnalani @justanothersadperson93 @al-astakbar

@thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @elise2174 @debonaire-princess @twilekchiss

[doiesfav]

༊*·˚ My Youth - Haechan ||

Pairing: Rockstar! Haechan x fem! Reader

Plot: Donghyuck and y/n were highschool lovers, not until y/n moves to another city for university. After graduating she finds herself in a difficult situation so she flights back to her home city after 5 years. Now Donghyuck performes in local festivals with his rock band NCT, but they meet again not sure about how to start again.

Genre: Romance, fluff, Ex to lovers, fiction

Contains: cuss words, eventual smut, alcohol, oral (f! receiving), vaginal, no protection (use protection and do not copy this idiots silly)

Wc 4,4k

A/n: thanks for reading everyone <333 Would appreciate if reblog or follow me tho😭 ily guys🫶

SPIN-OFF

MASTERLIST

MDNI‼️

Picture from nct’s official twitter while banners and dividers are self-made.

(y/n’s pov)

Some people say starting a new life in a new city is a great and awesome experience, thats what I always thought before doing it.

Moving out of my home city was probably one of the worst mistakes I’ve ever made, sure it was great at first but since graduating college, luck has been avoiding me. Companies wouldn’t accept my job applications, I was running out of money and even some of my friends I made there stopped talking to me.

I was left with nothing so I decided to go back home and start again, I missed my bedroom full of The Beatles and AC/DC posters, I also missed my friends from there, especially Mark, he always supported me and took care of me. Thats why as soon as I landed he was waiting for me in there.

“Maaaark” I said with a nostalgic smile, we both hugged until our arms were tired and when we pulled apart he was crying “You haven’t changed at all, still a crybaby” I wiped his tears and shook his messy hair with my hands as I always used to do.

“How have you been y/n” That question made me cry, “well, let's say not the best” He knew what I was talking about but didn’t say anything and just hugged me. Mark gave me a ride home where my parents were, I waved my hand to say goodbye to him and entered home. Finally home, this welcoming feeling after 5 years was very special to me.

They didn’t know I was coming back so I kept it a surprise for them. When I knocked on the door no one answered nor reacted, I kept knocking it a few times hoping someone would open it but no, so I just thought they could be out.

I went to walk a but when I encountered the park I always used to go when young, I had so many memories in there like when I used to fall a lit of times, or when I meet Mark for the first time in there, also my first ever kiss…

(6 years ago)

Donghyuck asked me to go meet him at the park, it wasn’t that weird for us to meet up, but this time it felt that way because he wanted to tell me something.

When it was 9pm, the time when he asked to meet me. I went out to see him already there sitting in the swing, he looked nervous which wasn’t something you would normally see. As soon as he saw me arrive he got up “Hyuck, what did you wanted to talk about?” I asked innocently while watching him playing with his fingers.

It was kinda awkward, “So I just wanted to tell you that..” What if it was a confession? I wasn’t interested in being in a relationship at the moment, and especially with one of my friends but a new feeling towards him awakened inside of me.

“Remember the day Mark introduced to us? Since that day I had a really big fat crush on you, like disgustingly big. I just think that you are an awesome and very beautiful person in all aspects” I totally remember the day I met Donghyuck, we weren’t that close at first but then slowly started to become closer.

I didn’t know what to do, a side of me wanted to reject him and move on and the other side wanted hug him and accept the confession. Both would end up changing our current relationship anyways, so I decided to go big.

I put my hands on his red burning cheeks and slowly approached my body towards him. He realized what I was trying to do so he put his hands on my waist as if it was made of thin glass. I also had to stand up on tiptoe since he was taller than me, then my lips touched his.

His lips were sweet, ir was like savoring fresh sweet fruit. Then I realized, my first kiss. We pulled apart slowly “So what kind of answer is that?” He giggled, I wanted to die of embarrassment, it wasn’t planned at all but it was what my heart wanted, I could feel it.

(present)

Since that day Donghyuck and I have been dating until I decided to move out, then we broke up hoping that I won’t be able to see him again. We were a happy couple, I would say he is my first everything.

I snapped out of my memories. Was I missing him so much? Probably if we saw each other right now I would pretend I don’t know him, but I’ve got no clue about what he was up to.

Suddenly a familiar car arrived, it was my parents. When they entered home I waited about 10 minutes to appear. I knocked the door, this time hoping they would open it, they did. “Y/nnnnnn” My mom hugged me very tightly, “What are you doing here honey, you could have called me I still haven’t made dinner” Then tears started falling down her cheek “awww mom, I wanted it to be a surprise don’t worry, I’ll help you make dinner”

Then my father appeared and he was even more surprised than you thought he would be. We had a talk about how did I do there and why Im back. Mom wanted to invite all her friends and family to make a welcome home party but it was too late so we decided to do it tomorrow.

Nothing changed in here, instead it was exactly as it was when I left. My room was also the same, my mom didn’t dare to touch anything. Things like my posters, desk and even things I thought I threw was there without any dust. Mom cleaned my room every month, I mean she was a clean freak but it was comforting.

Thats when I saw my album photos and decided to take a look. The first few pages were baby me, wondering how cute I was, then 10 years old me started to appear. It was my princess phase, which today I regret I looked so stupid thinking it was cool.

And then saw my first photo with Mark, he was like a baby and we were holding hands. I remembered that we took that photo on his 11th birthday, few months after we meet. We were so close that felt as if it was my real brother since I had no siblings.

While looking at my teenager photos I remembered how rebellious I was, I had my rock band phase with my friends at 15 but it started to fade out quickly. I still looked cool tho. When I decided to color my hair I did blonde highlights with it, my parents grounded me 1 month after it but I still miss it.

Then I froze when I saw a photo of me and Donghyuck kissing. We were at my room alone for the first time so I decided to take a selfie with him, we made out and we both lost our virginity that day. Thats why he was my first in almost everything.

I could still remember when he tried to put his dick inside me, it was painful and pleasing but the pain was taking over and I had to gently push him. We tried as many times as possible because I was insisting in it. At the end it ended up being a funny and embarrassing story that he told to almost everyone.

But I should stop thinking about him, it was in the past, is not like I would meet him again the chances are very low. When I finally unpacked everything Mark texted me.

Mark: Heyy y/n, did you finish accomodating?

Mark: If so you could come where I am to celebrate your welcoming with some old friends

Since I had nothing else to do I decided to go. He said there were some old friends so my heart was beating very fast when I arrived, I wasn't that shy but that feeling of seeing your friends again made me. When I arrived, Mark texted me it was Jeno's house so I thought it wasn't going to be a big party but it wasn't, it was disgustingly big.

There were a lot of people, but I mean a lot. It was a welcoming party, but it felt like a uni frat party, When people realized I entered they came each to hug me, and when I felt a little bit of pressure I went to find Mark.

On my way, I got some beer to relieve the stress and then I saw Jeno with a mic starting to give a speech. ''So y'all know why this party is being held right?'' He laughs ''Of course to celebrate the welcoming of Y/NNN'' He screamed as if his lungs were about to die. When everyone turned around to see me and cheer me, I laughed awkwardly but luckily Jeno says something to interrupt that awkwardness.

''And to make it worth it, our lovely NCT is gonna play some songs, so ladies and gentlemen, please enjoy yourselves'' NCT? That was the name of my old rock band group. But then a familiar melody started playing, it was a song that we composed.

When I looked at the stage Yuta, Hendery, Jeno, and Donghyuck were there. They were the same members as before, the only difference is that I'm not there. When Hendery started playing the drums to start the song, Yuta sang and Jeno and Donghyuck played the guitars. I used to be the lead guitarist but Donghyuck took my place as I could see.

I smirked at them receiving the same face, the killing part was Donghyuck's and he did them really well. I remember when I met him and introduced him the guitar, he was a newbie but wanted to learn then we created the group where he improved a lot. And now he's here playing it without any guidance doing the killing part. The crowd went feral so I did. After some other songs, it was time to take a break so I went outside where I met Mark smoking. ''Hey y/n, I haven't seen you in there, what do you think, you like it?'' I was shocked, he was the typical good guy but his smoking was something else. ''Woah wait a minute, since when do you smoke'' He laughed hiding his face with his free hand. ''Well I do not smoke that often but you know''

After having a very comforting conversation it was getting cold so we both went inside. ''Mark, do you know where's the bathroom?'' having a sudden urge to go pee. I followed him and led me there ''thanks, see ya later''. The satisfaction of peeing after keeping it for a long time was everything I needed right now, but someone opens the door and closes it immediately without noticing I was there. He unzips his jeans when he realized I was there sitting on the toilet peeing. He turned around quickly and I blushed, ''Donghyuck you should know how to knock right?'' I said dryly. ''y/n you should know how to close the door right?''. Then the silence was real, I finished quickly so he could pee but stopped me.

''Aren't you gonna say hi?'' he cornered me with his hands not letting me move, his face was leaning closer but I smelled alcohol so of course he was drunk. ''We shouldn't be doing this'' I said while trying to escape but he made me sit back on the toilet before I could. ''I missed you a lot you know? I missed everything about you, and now you came back. We should be together'' ''Sorry not now Hyuck, amazing performance by the way'' I said while running out and hoping he won't catch me again.

Not gonna lie, talking to him made me feel very sad but angry at the same time so why not drink to fill that up. After some time of drinking and avoiding Donghyuck I wasn't wasted at all since I have high alcohol tolerance so I decided to go home. Mark offered to drive me home since he hadn't had any alcohol tonight so I accepted.

On my way home we didn't talk a lot but still felt comfortable. ''y/n, what do you think about me?'' I didn't expect that question ''what do you mean Markie'' He seemed nervous ''What do you think of me as a man'' We both stayed quiet ''I mean you are my friend-'' He interrupted me ''No y/n no, I liked you since a very long time but then I had to bear my feelings when you started dating Donghyuck'' When Mark said that it left me speechless. ''Now that Donghyuck and you are over and you are back, I wanted to tell you what you think about me'' I didn't know how to answer, maybe I was a bit drunk after all but I always saw him as my best friend and even brother sometimes.

''Mark, sorry let's talk another day I'm not in the right condition right now'' I lied, I was perfectly fine. ''Yea sorry y/n, I got carried on, don't remember this conversation please'' The drive was quiet and maybe uncomfortable too.

The sun rises, it was a new day. Today I wanted to start searching for a job and find an apartment I could afford, after spending half a day doing so I took a break and went to meet with some old friends. I arrived at the park where everyone knows each other, but literally, since it wasn't a very big city. ''Hey y/n, how are you?'' One of my friends said, I greeted them and went to hang out. The city itself didn't change at all so I recognized all the streets.

While walking freely someone asked ''So what's your relationship with Donghyuck right now?'' That was the last question I wanted to be asked, ''Oh no, we are over, is in the past-'' I got interrupted, ''Speaking of the devil look who's there'' It was Donghyuck with some of his friends, they were buying some ice cream in front of us. I wanted to turn back but they were already waving hands at them. ''Hey girls'' He said to start a conversation, we all sat in the café. I wanted to avoid looking at him because of yesterday's incident. ''y/n are you okay you look a little sick'' someone asked. ''Yea maybe is from yesterday so I think I have to go home'' I got up quickly '''l'll make you company, I'm sure you don't remember the way back'' Donghyuck said but that's the least I wanted from him. I insisted but still he made me company.

''Aren't you tired of avoiding me y/n?'' True, it was exhausting. ''Aren't you tired too of following me?'' He then stopped walking so I did. ''About yesterday, I was serious, I wanna start our relationship again'' I felt how his puppy-looking eyes were looking at me. ''no Hyuck-'' ''Why not? We only broke up because of you moving out, there isn't any other reason right?'' He took my hand which surprised me. ''Yes but because of how many years we haven't been in contact I just don't feel the same Hyuck''.

''Then why do I still love you?'' I didn't know how to answer. But do I still like him or is just me not wanting to accept it, it felt wrong not going back to him but at the same time it also feels right. I was getting Deja Vu, so my heart just took over. ''I still do Hyuck, I still love you a lot'' We hugged, I didn't want to break that hug, I wanted it to continue forever it felt so warm. ''Do you wanna start over?'' I nodded and the very next second he leaned forward to kiss me.

Our lips meet passionately, him being dominant while playing with my tongue. ''You don't know how much I missed those lips'' He shared and made me blush, ''Want me to rile you up at my home?'' It surprised me and I just laughed it off but my phone ringing had to interrupt the moment. It was my mom telling me to go home because guests were at my second welcoming party, ''Hyuck wanna come to my second welcoming party? You know my mom loves you'' He absolutely agreed. My mom and him were like best friends so why not.

We arrived home with our hands held together, and that's when I saw Mark coming toward us. I needed to pretend that I was drunk during yesterday's conversation so he probably thought I forgot about it seeing us holding hands. ''Oh damn, are you guys together again'' He laughed to not seem sad or whatever feeling I knew except happiness, ''I know right, she's hard to get every time'' Donghyck said not knowing anything Mark and I were thinking so I felt sorry for him. Mark liked me and he was his best friend also.

At this party there were neighbors and my parent's friends so I didn't feel that much pressure. My mom kept asking Donghyuck and me if we are ever getting married but all I could see is Mark's uncomfortable face, it made me feel sad and bad knowing he always had that face since Donghyuck and I dated. When the party was coming to an end Donghyuck insisted if he could stay the night over and my mom heard it so of course he could. While saying goodbye to the guests it was Mark's turn, again I had to pretend nothing happened which was very tiring. ''Thanks for coming Mark'' I smiled at him like I always used to so he did the same but it didn't feel like a real one. I didn't wanna lose my best friend but he didn't feel the same way about me.

My parents were already sleeping because of the alcohol they drank earlier but me and Donghyuck were still awake. ''Your room didn't change that much, I still remember the first time we did it in your bed'' We both laughed and covered ourselves with the blanket, I wished this moment went on forever. He was the big spoon which I liked because of how warm his hugs were, ''Did you date any guys while you were away? I didn't date any girls, look how loyal I am'' I didn't date any guy but maybe a few one-night stands but how do I tell him. ''What if I told you I did'' He lifted his head looking annoyed ''Then you had sex while I was here waiting for you?'' I felt very bad but I've never thought of coming back to him so it wasn't an excuse. ''Maybe'' I said quietly to not annoy him more.

''Want to fuck?'' Did he just say that straight to me? I felt something growing quickly on my ass, I knew he was hard. We kissed and pulled apart when we were out of breath, and he made me lay on my bed carefully while kissing my neck. Donghyuck took off my clothes so I tried to take off his shirt, ''If you wanna see my body so bad, lemme eat you out first'' I nodded because of how desperately I needed his tongue on my clit right now. I slightly moaned when he put his tongue on my pussy, ''Babe open your legs wider for me, please'' Realising it was difficult for him to eat me out with almost closed legs. I opened them so he kept sucking my clit, my hands landed on his hair pulling it carefully to not hurt him.

When Donghyuck inserted one finger inside me I could tell how much I missed being eaten out because of my moans, I kinda begged for more in the middle of my moans. He inserted two more which made me breathless of how sudden it was, I tried to push him a bit but it felt so good although painful at the same time, ''babe how are you so tight if you fucked with other guys'' Then he went to suck my clit while hitting my g-spot aggressively. I could see my orgasm coming ''Hyuck I'm close'' I tried to say and then I felt something, I just squirted and came at the same time, it felt awesome, and didn't want to stop. Donghyuck didn't stop with his fingers so I rode it while my legs were twitching, ''didn't know you could squirt, or you learned while fucking other guys too''.

I've never squirted in my life and he was the one that made me do it, ''No Hyuck, is my first time'' He then kissed me ''you want a break or keep going, baby'' I wasn't sure but seeing Donghyuck's stoner made me say keep going. He took off his clothes and started to accommodate his body above me. Missionary was his favorite, he could see my face while he fucks me, I obviously remembered that.

He slowly rubbed his tip in the lips of my hole, and when he slowly made it inside we both realized I was tight as fuck. The feeling of Donghyuck's cock inside me was thrilling, painful but pleasing. ''God you are so fucking tight'' He moaned out of pleasure, I was loosing ny mind by the time Donghyuck’s thrusts were faster. I could feel my second orgasm soon, i gripped my hands on his naked shoulders and moaned harder than before. He knew I was coming soon, “don’t cum yet baby” I did as he told but I couldn’t resist anymore “Hyuck, please”. Then he used his finger to rub on my clit while thrusting faster. He knew how to satisfy me perfectly, and soon I was coming all over his dick while at the same time his cum was filling me.

We both panted as desperately kissed even tho we were put of breath, “Fuck I missed seeing my cum slipping out of ur pussy” He said after licking it. “Welcome home y/n” Those words were enough for me to sleep comfortable, we cuddled to sleep “So what are you doing for a living” I asked out of curiosity. “Nothing in special, just concerts at local festivals even tho we are trying for a label to contact us” I didn’t know he took music seriously, when younger it seemed like a fun activity to do but never imagined he would be living of it. After asking some questions I was already sleepy and Donghyuck kissed my forehead before saying goodnight.

It was 8am and since mom is a morning person she went to my room and see how we were, the thing is that we were both naked but covered in blankets while hugging each other. She knew what we did last night just by looking at us, When I woke up Donghyuck wasn’t anymore in my bed, he probably had to do something so I don’t blame him. When k went to the kitchen to eat something he was there cooking breakfast with my mom, Donghyuck was a very good cook and thats another reason why my mom loved him.

“So how was list night young couple” my mom sai d while we were eating, after she said that I started choking on my food surprised. She just laughed and looked at Donghyuck “We were great last night thanks miss ___” He smirked at me. After tidying things up I saw that Mark texted me, my heart was racing but not of excitement but of fear.

Mark: yo y/n I was wondering if ur free rn

Mark: If u are could u come meet me at the park in our neighborhood?

I knew what his intentions were, he wanted to confess I was sure. But then Donghyuck noticed the text Mark sent me “are you going?”He said which it startled me a bit, “Im not sure, should I?” He nodded his head, I could trust him. “I’ll wait you here if you need anything baby” He then hugged me, it was as if Donghyuck also knew about Mark’s intention but I wasn’t sure at all.

Seeing Mark and feeling awkward was not normal, when you arrived he first acted normal but the topic changed. “Y/n I know that you and Donghyuck are back together but I just wanted to tell you that I’m here to support you, if you need anything I’m here, and I want you to think of me as someone who will always take care of you” Realization hits when his voice started to became fragile, as if his words were hurting him. “Mark… You know you are my everything like literally, you’ve been with me at my worst and literally saved me from everything. I want to thank you, and the other day… I wasn’t drunk at all so I know why are you saying this” He looked at me with his red cheeks, maybe from embarrassment, nervousness?

“So you know…” I nodded and hugged him, this hug felt different is like a new and different type of one. One that means all the friendship and love between us, one that if we ever break everything does. “I will try and change but I don’t want to loose you, you are everything I could ask for even if we stay like this” His words felt sincere but liking your best friend isn’t a crime either. “Mark, liking your best friend isn’t a crime silly, take your time don’t worry ill help you somehow” After some time you went home but feeling kinda heartbroken and felt pity for Mark, but Donghyuck was still there.

“What happened baby, everything alright?” We both hugged desperately, some tears started falling from my eyes and landed on Donghyuck’s chest. “Not gonna lie, I knew Mark had a crush on you way before we started dating, he told me himself but I just couldn’t contain myself” Those words made me surprised, he knew but never told me? “Hyuck be so for real” I tried to break the hug but Donghyuck’s arms were definitely stronger. “y/n I want you to focus on us, let’s love again but stronger this time, okay? I didn’t spent all my youth trying to make you fall in love for me for nothing” He was right, I wanted to free myself for a bit from adult life. The sudden change of becoming an adult is shocking, I wasn’t prepared at all but right now I really wanted for Donghyuck to comfort me, I wanted to be comforted by him.

Thanks guys for all the likes ive been getting😭🫶🫶 And bro Im super excited for ISTJ, im sure is gonna be good asfff and im prob gonna get some material to write with it ;) And again thanks everyone <33