#it takes a roll on my mental health i swear

[multicohn]

summary: fans have been asking for lando’s gf to appear on stream with him and she finally gives in

warnings: none

pairing: fem! reader x lando norris

genre: fluff

face claim: no one

author note: y/n is bad at video games in this, sorry if you’re good at them

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

lando had never been more excited to start streaming and it definitely showed as he greeted fans with such excitement they’ve only seen from him after a good race. meanwhile, y/n sat beside him ( out of shot ) and nervously fiddled with her fingers.

“today-“ he clapped his hand together and y/n jumped which made him look over and laugh a little, “-sorry, so, i got a special guest with me and gave her a bit of a fright” lando then pulled y/n chair into view which made the stream chat explode

“FINALLY”

“Y/N ON STREAM OHMYGOD”

“YES (SHIP NAME) CONTENT WE LOVE TO SEE IT”

y/n smiled and waved to the camera while lando loaded up the game. he discussed that she would be playing a few games by herself and that he’s just here for moral support, y/n leaned into him before reading some comments out loud as they waited for the game to load.

“how did we meet?” lando coughed and looked away embarrassingly as y/n smiled

“he needed a jump start and i was the only one with cables, he said he’ll buy me a coffee as a thank you and had the employee write his number on the bottom of my cup-“ y/n started laughing, “-i didn’t even know and threw the cup away, but we met again and this time i needed a jump start. he asked why i hadn’t called and i was like ‘i don’t have your number’, ‘i had the café guy write my number on the bottom of your cup’, ‘oh, i didn’t even know and threw it away’ then he made sure that i had his number in my phone”

“i mean, seriously, why didn’t you check?”

“why would i?”

“…well, you just should’ve” y/n rolled her eyes before pressing start

it was chaos.

“GO LEFT! LEFT!”

“SHUT UP, I’M SCARED”

“RUN! RUN!”

“WHY AM I SO SLOW?”

y/n sunk down into the chair as the words ‘GAME OVER’ popped up onto the screen.

‘this is why i didn’t want to do this” she sulked while lando switched over to a different game

“can i just quit?”

“chat, can she quit?”

“NO”

“ITS OKAY Y/N I ALSO SUCK”

“PLEASE NO YOU REPRESENT US WHO GET SCARED EASILY”

lando gave his girlfriend a smug smile and it took everything in her to not whack it off his face.

y/n has never been very good at video games, preferring to play easy ones like the sims or even roblox. lando didn’t care much about it, finding her asking questions about the games he plays comforting, especially when he’s stressed. lando would also let her take control when he had a simple task to do or ask for help when having to pick a hard decision. it’s nice just having y/n by his side — even if she wasn’t paying attention to what he was playing.

“lando, i swear if this is a horror game”

“nah, it’s not”

• • •

“GET AWAY FROM ME”

“THROUGH THE VENTS”

“LANDO I’M SCARED”

“JUST KEEP RUNNING”

“WHERE DO I GO?”

“LEFT”

“AHHHHH”

despite y/n making a fool of herself, fans absolutely loved it; lando bursting out into laughter every few seconds while she yelled at him for help, y/n leaning away in case of a jump scare, her trying to leave and lando pulling her back, them both laughing after y/n died and her trying to tell lando off while laughing herself.

“it’s okay, baby. we’ll be losers together” y/n pouted as he hugged her, the screen showing the words “YOU DIED” again

“let’s end it here, i don’t think my mentality can take anymore” lando smiled and kissed her cheek before letting her go

“okay, chat. for the sake of y/n’s mental health, we’ll be ending it here. thank you joining and she will be back-“

“no”

“-she will! don’t worry guys!”

“lando-“

“bye, chat!”

“you little-“

[ithebookhoarder]

Special Delivery (Spencer Reid x F!Reader)

Description: Something's different about Reid and no-one knows what. However, a surprise delivery to the BAU may just have the answer...

Warnings: Food references, mentions of mental health, mentions of medical procedures, references to smutty behaviour, Spencer being adorable

Masterlist

“Ok. Am I the only one who’s noticed something’s different with Reid lately?” Morgan remarked, watching as the said boy-genuis made his way across the bullpen and over to his desk. 

“Yeah,” Emily hummed, watching the young agent over the rim of coffee cup. She had to admit it - as much as it annoyed her - Morgan was right; Spencer has definitely been acting different. If anything, she was surprised it had taken them all this long to say anything. 

Normally, they were all over each other the moment they noticed anything even remotely different about each other. Hell, she’d barely taken a step off the elevator, after getting an extra few inches cut off at her latest haircut, before the team were quizzing her about possible life changes and whether or not they needed to be worried about her. 

It was a hazard of working with profilers for a living; it was almost impossible to keep anything a secret. No wonder they were all intrigued and slightly confused by the fact that none of them had been able to pinpoint what was going on with their friend. 

The most notable difference was the gradual disappearance of the dark circles under his eyes. Reid also seemed happier in general, less quiet and reserved when talking to others, and it was starting to make agents talk. 

Morgan and Emily stood up straighter as JJ walked over to join the unofficial gossip session. She took one look at the pair and knew immediately what they were whispering about. 

“Are you talking about Reid?”

“Oh yeah,” Morgan grinned, “my money’s on him having finally found someone.”

Emily choked, seemingly as a result of inhaling her coffee at the grand statement. “What?”

“Oh, come on, Miss ‘super spy’. Just look at him,” he teased. “He’s been distracted. He’s all goo-goo eyed and he’s been leaving this place at a normal hour. Like… tell me that doesn’t scream ‘I got a date’.”

“What? It could be loads of things. It doesn’t have to be a date, right JJ?”

“He’s probably just happy. We’ve all been getting more sleep lately and our paperwork is non-existent at the moment,” JJ murmured, reaching past the pair of them to grab for the coffee pot. She was clearly doing her best to try and put this line of questioning to rest. She’d always been the first to protect the younger agent she now saw as a little brother. “Besides, we all know he’s not interested in dating, he hasn’t been since…. Well, you know.”

Morgan groaned. “But what about the secret texts, JJ!” he protested, ignoring the look Emily shot him in return. “He’s been glued to that phone of his and keeps giggling like a school kid. Then there’s the lunches! I know he’s always been organised and likes things a certain way, but damn. His lunches have been like next level - and actually healthy? And I swear he’s had jello like every day.”

JJ rolled her eyes. “You’re basing your profile on jello? Is that it?” 

“Well, no I mean… did you not hear the part about the texting and the taking secret calls and the fact he didn’t come out for drinks last night-”

“-Can’t we just be glad for him? Whatever is going on, it’s good for him. Let’s just drop it, ok? He’ll tell us when he’s ready if there’s anything to share.”

“JJ’s right,” Emily echoed. “Reid’s just … happy. End of.”

By the way Morgan frowned it looked like it definitely was not the end of this conversation, but he never got the chance to argue. In fact, he was interrupted as the main doors opened next to them and a rather lost looking receptionist hurried through. 

Normally, this wouldn’t have been worth noticing but all three of them spun around at the sound of him calling out the name, “Agent Reid? uh… Is Agent Reid here?”

“Oh, uh, here!” Spencer shouted, soundly vaguely like he was taking roll call. It didn’t help that he shot his arm up in the air too, almost falling off his desk chair as he lurched to his feet and hurried over. “That’s… that’s me - and it’s Dr Reid, but it doesn’t matter. How can I help?”

“Oh, uh, there’s a Y/N at reception for you,” the unfortunate messenger managed, gesturing back the way they’d came. “I told them to wait whilst I came to check with you as they’re not on your visitor list-”

Spencer didn’t even let the poor man finish. He was already racing for the door before the man had even made it to the end of the sentence. Needless to say, the others were quick to follow, with Morgan smugly boasting “told you soooo” as he went. 

There was no way on earth they were missing this and considering Hotch and Rossi hadn’t arrived yet it wasn’t like they were about to get their asses handed to them for missing their briefing either. 

Despite the amount Spencer had told you about the BAU, you were still surprised by how different the FBI offices were to what you’d imagined. 

The offices were larger and the sheer number of people walking about in suits and carrying a side arm made you feel even more nervous, and that was already a problem considering you were stood there wearing neon blue scrubs, embroidered with jungle animals on the pocket. 

You were like a walking, flashing sign, screaming ‘outsider - does not work here’.  Thankfully, you weren’t going to be there long. You were only swinging by on your way to work, hoping to catch your utterly perfect - and utterly forgetful - boyfriend, before the start of your shift. 

Speaking of Spencer, you had only been standing there for possibly five minutes when you saw him barreling through the doors towards you. 

“Hey, Spence-“

“Y/N? Honey? What’s going on?” he gushed, hurrying over and taking your face in his hands. You could see his wide eyes frantically scanning every inch of you, looking for some kind of problem or sign that you were not ok. “Is everything alright? What are you doing here?”

You felt your cheeks warm at the sudden display of concern, very much aware of the scene your wonderful boyfriend was making. Spencer wasn’t normally the most affectionate in public, preferring to save those rare moments for when the two of you were alone. The fact he was so worried about what might have brought you to the FBI on a Tuesday morning was touching and made your heart swell. 

“I’m fine, Spence. Don’t worry-” 

“Then what are you doing here?” 

“You forgot something,” you soothed, pulling back and reaching into your satchel. It was impossible to miss the way his face reddened as you pulled out a neatly labeled Dr Who Tupperware by way of explanation. “I’m here because you were in such a rush this morning that you forgot your lunch.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh’,” you teased. “I couldn’t exactly let you go hungry so I thought I’d drop it off on my way to work. I don’t start till later as I’m covering Amelia’s shift as she’s visiting her sister in Boston, so I thought I’d swing by.”

Sure, Spencer was an adult and you could have let him just buy something from the cafeteria or order something in for lunch, but considering how much effort he had gone to to cook with you the day before you felt bad letting it go to waste. 

He’d been so proud of the way the recipe had turned out, following the instructions and your guidance with extreme precision and care. The result had been a rather tasty looking dish - and it had the added benefit of being healthy too. You were always worried that Spencer seemed to think fast food, like Pizza, was a food group. Then again, he had been forced to be an adult pretty fast and had been in college so young that it wasn’t a surprise that no-one had been there to teach him about cooking and eating right. He had been too focused on his studies to even think about anything else.  

It was something he had been working on since you’d got together and now cooking had become one of your favourite date night activities. It didn’t hurt that you often ended up spilling food all over yourselves and needing to shower together - it was just a lovely bonus. In fact, your screensaver was now a picture of you and Spencer, covered in flour, and beaming ear to ear. 

“Thank you, that… that’s so nice,” Spencer stammered, “but I feel bad. You didn’t need to go out of your way and bring it to me.”

“As I say, it’s on my way to work. It’s no trouble.”

“Well, still-“

“Hey, pretty boy!” 

Spencer froze. 

“You gonna introduce us to your friend, or what?”

Spencer opened his mouth but instantly closed it again. You knew by the way he rolled his eyes and began muttering under his breath that whoever had shouted that had definitely been talking to him. 

You couldn’t help but giggle. “Pretty boy, huh?” 

“Don’t ask,” he whined, taking a deep breath as you looked over his shoulder and saw a small group of people now making their way towards you. “I should probably mention that I wasn’t sure how comfortable you were with me mentioning you, so I haven’t told anyone about us yet and those idiots are some of my team and I would say ‘run’ but they’re all faster than me.”

“Ah… I see. So I’m guessing that one is Morgan?” 

“Yes.”

“Well, no time like the present,” you cheered, turning and waving at the approaching trio. “Hi. Nice to meet you. I’m Y/N - Spencer’s girlfriend.”

“Wow. A girlfriend?” cooed Morgan, reaching over to pull you into a hug before the other two could stop him. To their credit, they looked slightly embarrassed by the display but they were clearly too interested in your identity to care. “And a doctor to boot? Didn’t know he had it in him. I’m Derek Morgan.”

“Oh, I worked that out. It’s good to finally meet you all.” 

The others were quick to echo the sentiment, with JJ and Emily quickly introducing themselves in tandem. They were also quick to invite you inside the office for some coffee, but thankfully you weren’t lying when you said you had to get to work. 

“You know how it is. People to take care of, medical cases to solve, lives to save - same old, same old. All I’m missing is a snazzy badge and I could be an FBI agent.” 

“Ha ha.” Spencer’s smile was genuine as you stole a kiss before making a dash for your car. However, you could see the nerves in his eyes at being left alone to face the great inquisition that now awaited him following the discovery of your existence. You were pretty sure the entire BAU would know about you before it even hit lunchtime. “I’ll see you later, ok?” 

“Of course. Just let me know if you’re coming home or if you’re off saving the world in another state - otherwise I can’t promise I won’t eat all the leftovers before you get back.” 

He chuckled. “Will do.” 

With that, you bid the others goodbye, making sure to agree when they asked (more like insisted) that you came to their family dinner on Friday night at none other than Rossi’s house. The rest of the team were going to be begging to meet you after this, and they were all bringing their families along too. 

If Spencer wasn’t comfortable with you going you were pretty sure the team would believe it if you said you’d got called into a last minute surgery, but you’d check later when you both returned to the apartment you now called your home. Either way, you were going to have to make something to take with you, just in case. 

As your grandpa had always said, there was no quicker way to someone’s heart than through their stomach. Or, as in Spencer's case, with an unlimited supply of Jello...

[808airsoftbros]

My Scary Noona (Kim Gaeul) (BXG) (S)

Author: A requested oneshot by an anonymous user, if you are reading this I hope you enjoy it, and if you all want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist.

Y/N's POV

"I swear to God Yujin and Wonyoung, your guy's room is always a mess!"

Hearing my Noona, Gaeul once again yelling at her members for having a messy room and Yujin and Wonyoung pouted trying to act cute to get out of their predicament.

But if I know Gaeul no tricks are going to work on her as she's the oldest and made them clean up. Of course, Yujin and Wonyoung reluctantly did so as we all knew not to mess with her.

Even if Gaeul isn't the leader of IVE, she is still someone you don't want to cross with and she'll make your life a living hell.

Meanwhile, I was in my room playing Helldivers 2, wearing noise-canceling headphones, I didn't hear much of the commotion outside until I smelled that same autumn perfume that Gaeul always wears.

The scent was strong like it was being held right at my nose and when I turned around I saw Gaeul right behind my chair and I gulped.

"Y-Yes, Noona...?" I gulped.

"You, you and I are going on a date, you're not busy right..?" Gaeul asked and I shook my head.

"No... Well maybe..." I chuckled nervously and she rolled her eyes.

"And what exactly is keeping you busy today? Sitting your lazy ass playing video games?" She sarcastically asked.

Without saying anymore, Gaeul tossed me clothes for me to wear, and ordered me to get dressed and meet her outside. I sighed seeing that my video game sessions ended so soon.

After I finished changing into the clothes that Gaeul gave me which was a pair of Addidas sweatpants and jacket, I wear a Vans black shirt and all complimented by Addidas shoes.

Coming out of my room, Gaeul gave me a small grin before taking my arm leading me out of the dorm.

"Will be out all-day girls, you all better not make a mess!" Gaeul announced and the girls nodded.

"Of course, Unnie... You won't have to worry about a thing..." Yujin casually says while on her phone.

"You better keep your word," Gaeul warned and we left the dorm.

Walking hand in hand out of the dorm into the cool autumn breeze, Gaeul took a deep breath and sighed relaxing herself after constantly yelling bossing around her members all-day.

"Noona, do you always have to be this strict?" I curiously asked and she huffed.

"Well, someone has to keep things in order, and besides you know how chaotic those girls can get right?" Gaeul pointed out and sighed knowing she was right.

"Yeah, I cannot lie, they do get crazy sometimes... Even for my own liking," I answered and she grinned.

"Aren't you lucky you have a girlfriend like me to handle them~? Otherwise, you'd go mad," She cheekily said and I chuckled.

Afterward, Gaeul walked me into her favorite ramen shop, the waiter guided us to our table and left us alone to decide what to eat on the menu.

Gaeul took her time looking over the specials and then at me with a small warm smile the same look when she knows exactly what I'm going to get. Though I do sometimes doubt that...

"Let me guess... The shoyu ramen?" Gaeul guessed and I was baffled at how she knew what I was getting and once again proving me wrong.

"How do you always know, Noona...?" I asked confused and she giggled.

"Because you always get the same thing every time, it doesn't take a detective to figure that out don't you think? Perhaps try something new for a change," She suggested and I sighed.

Gaeul knew I was quite a picky eater, it's always been like that since childhood which gave my family a headache trying to get me to try foods that I may or may not like.

Although I always hesitated food from my parents, Gaeul is the opposite case not because she's scary or threatens to shove it down my throat but because I was less reluctant and open because of her warm and caring personality.

Unlike others who only saw me as a failure, weak, and stupid because of my health and mental disorder, Gaeul was the only friend I have who truly saw me as who I am and accepted me nonetheless.

Sure Gaeul may scold me from time to time but I eventually learned that it was for my own good and I have a lot more to learn about relationships even if we've been together for a few years now.

"Well, well, I can't believe my eyes... It's the weird kid..." I heard a familiar voice I hope to never hear again.

Looking up I sighed to see Jackson and his gang walking up towards us, they're all idols like Gaeul, and she too was surprised to see them.

"Jackson? What are you doing here?" Gaeul asked raising an eyebrow.

"Darling, why else would we be here? We came to grab some food is all. What are you doing with him?" He asked and Gaeul rolled her eyes.

"Jackson, this is my boyfriend Kim Y/N, we were on a date and we would appreciate if you didn't interrupt our quality time together," Gaeul answered and he seemed surprised before laughing his ass off.

"Boyfriend? Are you serious? You're a famous idol like us and this guy is who you choose? I mean come on you're better off dating some rookie guy from a shitty company instead of him, don't you think?" Jackson asked with a hint of mockery and I looked down not daring to look at him.

Gaeul on the other hand was furious about his words and immediately stood up before him almost as if she was ready to fight him as her fists was closed tightly.

"Take. That. Back." Gaeul warned coldly glaring at him but Jackson only sneered.

"Or else what? He's worth nothing and you are stooping so low dating him," Jackson replied and Gaeul scoffed.

"Oh please, that's quite rich, you always think you're so high and mighty because you walk over people to get on top, you always exploit, bully, and extort everyone to make yourself feel like the king of the world, but no, it's pathetic. Just admit it, Jackson, you're nothing but a goddamn coward," Gaeul coldly spoke to his face and he was livid.

"You fucking bitch! You dare speak to me like that to your senior?! Did you ever learn respect for people like us?!" Jackson angrily asked gripping Gaeul's collar tightly shooting her a deathly glare but she wasn't fazed one bit.

"Oh, I do... But you're not worthy of my respect unless you apologize to my boyfriend and recognize putting down others only makes you a weaker man," Gaeul retorted and Jackson lost it.

Jackson's anger took over him as he raised his fist to deliver a punching blow but he froze a painful sensation was felt in his groin from Gaeul kicking his balls causing him to let go of her collar as he groaned in pain.

Gaeul didn't even give him time to react, she grabbed his shoulders before delivering a cross punch to his jaw knocking him on the floor.

"Get up," Gaeul sternly demanded.

Jackson limply got back on his feet but it wasn't for long as Gaeul delivered a heavy front kick to his face knocking him down and she scoffed almost pitying how weak he was.

"Get up," Gaeul demanded once more.

Jackson's friend stood back not daring to intervene, Jackson tried to get up but it was harder as his body was sore and devastated from Gaeul's punches and kicks to his face and groin. Again without warning Gaeul slapped so hard that everyone in the restaurant heard it and he crashed into the wall and fell down groaning in pain.

"Not so fun when you're the one that's helpess, isn't it?" Gaeul asked sternly.

"Y-Your fucking insane..." Jackson weakly said and catches his breath.

"Well, that's what happens when you mess with one's boyfriend, I'll let you go but mess with my boyfriend again and I won't be so merciful and I'll do everything in my power to ensure you suffer for all of eternity, got it?" Gaeul warned and Jackson looked down in defeat.

"I understand..." He weakly groaned.

"Good, now you roaches get out of my sight!" Gaeul ordered pointing at the door and the boy quickly ran out of the restaurant.

Letting out a huff trying to calm herself down, she walked back to the table and sat down in front of me as the waiter comes back to take our orders.

I ordered my usual while Gaeul ordered the special spicy beef ramen, the waiter writes it down and leaves us for now. Shortly after, the waiters returned with our ramen orders.

Trying the new shoyu ramen recipe was absolutely immaculate despite the major change proving that not all changes in my picky habits are necessarily a bad thing to occur.

After we finished eating, we head back to the dorm to see the girls mostly asleep with Leeseo hugging Rei and Wonyoung and Yujin cuddling one another.

"Aww~. How adorable is that darling? But you know that means... right?" She whispered into my ear sending shivers down my spine knowing exactly what she means.

"Are you sure, Noona?" I nervously asked keeping my voice down to not disrupt their slumber.

"Do you know how long I've been craving you~? I haven't gotten your juicy cock inside of me for weeks... And I want it now," She seductively purred.

Without wasting time, Gaeul dragged me into my room closing the door before locking it, she shoved me into the bed and crawled towards me like a hungry tigress about to devour her prey.

The look in her eyes would make any man shit his pants as there was no escape for me as Gaeul cornered me on all sides as she pinned me down with her strong grip.

"Hmm... Where to start first~? So many ways~," She wondered as she licked her lips thinking of all the unholy things to do with me.

Taking some time to ponder on her first move, she smirked before going to my ear, her lips just inches from my neck as she nippled my earlobe a bit sending jolts of excitement and nervousness.

"Why don't you be a dear and take off my clothes~," She whispered and I nodded.

Sitting up I reached my hands on the straps of her dress pulling them aside and slowly pushing it down revealing her black laced bra and panties barely covering her assets.

"You like what you see don't you~? My body is just perfect for you baby~," She said in a husky tone and she bit her lip as she began working on my pants to free my erection.

Gaeul slides my pants off along with my boxers revealing my 9 inch dick making her lick her lips and biting it as this size was more than perfect for her.

"God, the words cannot describe how much I miss having your cock inside of me..." She muttered as she went down taking my length into my mouth.

Feeling her warm mouth and tongue swirling on my cock felt so amazing as always, Gaeul always knew all the buttons to push on me, and in turn, I'd pound the shit out of her.

Gaeul began bobbing her head faster and faster making me moan as I grab her hair as she began deepthroating me and soon enough I was reaching my limit but she wasn't stopping.

"Fuck... Noona I'm going to cum..." I warned and Gaeul took my cock out of her mouth before opening it wide sticking her tongue out as she used her hand to finish me off.

Almost instantly, I shot my line of cum onto her face most of it ending up on her tongue and she purred as she licked the cum off her lips and fingers.

"Mmm~. Thank you for the meal baby but now it's your turn~," She spoke in a commanding tone as she gestured me to take off her undergarments.

Obeying her commands like a good boy, I unclip her bra revealing her perky and luscious boobs, and slid off her panties revealing her perfect shaved womanhood.

Diving into her pussy I began eating her out making her moan my name as she wrapped her thighs around my head pushing herself onto my face more.

"Fuck baby~. Such a good fucking boy eating mommy out~! Keep this up and Mommy will treat you~," Gaeul wickedly grinned as she kept moaning as I eat her out.

Inserting my tongue inside of her not getting enough of her tasty juices she moaned louder as I began hitting her g-spot with my tongue and I feel her walls tightening.

"Shit baby~! I'm going cum and you better not waste a single drop..." She warned and she squirted all in my mouth despite her strong thighs tightly wrapped around my skull.

When Gaeul unwrapped her thighs she opened my mouth making sure I swallowed every drop of her juices and she smiled wickedly.

"Good boy, you didn't waste a drop and mommy is very proud of you~. Now it's time for your treat~," She praised.

She went on all fours displaying her firm and rounded ass to me and her glistening pussy and teasingly twerks inviting me to take her.

I didn't waste any time getting up aligning my cock to her pussy and slamming inside making her yelp as she didn't expect me to enter so abruptly but she didn't seem not to like it one bit but rather the opposite.

"Shit baby! You want me so badly don't you~?" She teasingly asked and without hesitation, I began fiercely pounding her pussy giving her my answer.

Gaeul moaned loudly as she gripped the sheets of the bed tightly as I rammed her like an angry bull and took out all my sexual desires and love on her.

The tightness of her pussy of my cock and the feeling was heavenly and I went all out to ensure Gaeul is pleased and happy with me.

"Fuck! Fuck! Just like that!" She screamed as I began hitting her g-spot with my cock nearly penetrating her.

Picking up the pace, I grabbed her ass as support as I pounded her faster and deeper making Gaeul nearly scream in ecstasy and slightly worry if I was going to finish too fast.

But I managed to hold my ground as I knew this was all out of love and our desires of one another, Gaeul was the only woman I'd ever want to share this rough lovemaking with.

Time was lost in our minds and before we knew it, we were both getting to our edge.

"I'm so close baby~!" Gaeul yelped.

"Me too... I don't know if I can hold it much longer!" I replied as I continued pounding her.

"Do it! Don't hold back! Let's do it together!" She demanded and I came deep inside of her as Gaeul squirted all over my cock.

After the massive orgasm we collapse onto the bed exhausted and sweaty from our passionate lovemaking. Gaeul gave a weak smile as she was catching her breath.

"That was amazing, baby... Better than I can imagine..." She whispered as she caressed my cheek.

"Y-Yeah, it was because of you... I'm the luckiest man to ever be with you," I replied as I hugged her pressing my face against her boobs and she giggled.

"No, honey, I'm the one who is lucky to have such a cute boyfriend and I can never ask for a better partner," She replied and sighed contently as she began playing with the strands of my hair.

"I love you, Noona..."

"I love you too, baby..."

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 15

Word Count- 5.8k

Warnings- Swearing, violence, talks of bad mental health, mommy issues, robbing???

“Alastair talk to me, please! What is going on,” Tears roll down my face as Alastair speeds down the dark back roads of Mystic Falls. 

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about it,” Alastair’s gruff words escape his mouth and I look at him in confusion and anger.

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t talk to me about it? What is it? Because all I know is that my supposed friend somehow knows Klaus. The big bad wolf Klaus!”

My breathing is shallow and harsh as I look at my friend. Or not friend. I guess. Alastair’s hands grip the leather steering wheel, and I watch as he grinds his teeth together so hard that I almost believe his teeth will fall out if he does open his mouth.

“I. Can’t. Tell. You.”

Alastair’s words don’t stop the tears still streaming down my face. 

“What can you tell me then, huh? Was all of it a lie? Our friendship? Everything I confided in you about? Everything you told me about yourself? Huh,” My voice gets louder with every question, “Was all of it some stupid fucking lie, Alastair! Some sick fucked up way of Klaus getting into my head! I never did anything to the guy! So why me?!”

I jeer forward as the car comes to a screeching halt, “I said I can’t tell you! For fucks sake!”

I’m frozen in fear as I look at the black veins under Alastair’s eyes. Eyes that are now looking directly at me. Oh god.

“You’re a…”

“Vampire.”

—

BEEP BEEP

“What the hell,” I groan as I throw my hands over my ears to hide myself away from the stupid phone alarm. 

“Sorry,” Elena’s voice comes from beside me on the bed as I feel her move around. The buzzing continues for a moment before a click of Elena’s finger stops it.

“What time is it,” My morning voice comes out harsh.

“Five,” Elena’s sheepish voice responds and I let out a loud groan. 

“Elena, what the hell. Go back to sleep. We don’t have to be up for school for another 2 hours,” I try to reason with my friend but she’s already standing up.

“I can’t. Ric and I are sparring today. He’s going to teach me how to defend myself. Remember? I offered for you to join.”

I roll back over onto one of Elena’s spare pillows and close my eyes.

“Sleep. I need sleep.”

—

“You’re a… what do you mean you’re a vampire! You can’t be, you’re a bartender,” My voice is shaky as small sobs escape my mouth. Alastair watches me as I try to lean as far away from him as I possibly can in the tiny sports car.

“I didn’t realize I had to be one or the other,” His dry voice makes a nasty laugh escape me.

“You’re one of his aren’t you,” I bite at the reference to the devil himself. 

“I’m not his. But…” Alastair's eyes narrow as he rubs a hand over his face, “I’m loyal to him. You don’t understand Y/N.”

“Then help me understand Alastair! Because right now all I know is that you’ve lied to me this entire summer!”

“Just like you’ve lied to me about all your friends being supernatural,” Alastair responds accusingly, and clench my fists.

“That is not the same and you know it. I thought you were human! I was protecting you!”

“And I’m protecting you!”

I flinch back as Alastair yells and raises his hands in exhaustion. 

“Protecting me from what? And what does Klaus have to do with it?”

Alastair looks at me once more and then turns his attention to his hands. I shake my head in annoyance, “You can’t tell me,” I say copying his words from before.

“Take me to Elena’s.”

“Klaus said to-”

“Does it look like I give a flying fuck what Klaus, AKA Satan Incarnate, wants! Just take me to Elena’s,” A sob escapes my mouth and for a moment I think Alastair is going to continue driving me to my house but with a deep sigh he puts the car into drive and does a U-turn in the middle of the street back towards the Gilbert residence. 

We drive in silence for the next 10 minutes. The only thing being heard in the car is the sounds of my sniffles. 

Thankfully we reach the driveway and before Alastair can even put the car into park, I’m unbuckling my seatbelt and throwing myself out of the car. 

“Y/N! Wait,” Alastair’s voice calls from behind me as I quickly climb the stairs.

I jump back slightly as the porch light turns on and the front door opens to Jenna standing there in her fluffy purple robe. She’s standing defensibly as she holds a bat but as soon as she sees it’s me she drops it. 

“Y/n? What’s wrong,” Jenna asks me in a mother-like tone.

“Y/n, would you just wait for a second,” Alastair's voice gets closer.

“Leave me alone!”

Jenna seems confused as to why Alastair and I are fighting. Probably because we’ve been attached at the hip all summer. But that doesn’t stop her from opening up the door and letting me run into her arms. 

“Jenn, what’s going on,” Ric comes down the stairs hastily. At the sight of my tear-stained face, his hunter's instinct seems to kick in as he rushes over to both myself and his girlfriend. 

“Go away, Alastair,” I turn one last time to the almost upset-looking man standing on the porch. 

Ric pushes both Jenna and I behind him as he stares down Alastair. 

“I think it’s best if you leave now,” Ric and Alastair stare each other down for a moment before Alastair looks around at me.

“I’ll see you soon.”

—-

“Y/n,” I feel a shove to my shoulder and I press my face harder into the soft duvet, “Y/n! Wake up we’re going to be late!”

“Late for what mom,” I groan into my pillow and I hear Elena’s laugh from above me.

“For the first day of Senior year. You know if we’re not there on time Caroline will march herself over here,” At the mention of the blonde I instantly sit up straight. So fast in fact, that Elena quickly takes a step back so we don’t hit heads.

“Weren’t you going to go fight with Ric or something,” I say as I rub the sleep from my eyes and watch my friend put her books into her backpack. 

“I already did,” She laughs to herself, “You’ve been sleeping the entire time. Now get up and get dressed. Jenna made pancakes and Jeremy and Theo are going to eat them all if we don’t get down there.”

I sigh deeply as I throw my legs over Elena’s bed, the one I’ve been sleeping in for the past three days since Alastair dropped me off here. 

“I think our brothers are dating,” I jokingly say out loud and Elena stops for a moment and thinks to herself before nodding along with me.

“Ya, you’re probably right. Should we tell Bonnie,” I roll my eyes at my friend’s question and put my feet into the bunny slippers Jenna bought for me yesterday. 

“I think she already knows,” I stand up and walk past her to the small duffle bag that’s comprised of everything I’d need for my week-long sleepover at the Gilbert’s. I head into the bathroom and start changing and getting ready for the day.

“You really don’t mind me staying here,” I yell loud enough so Elena can hear me through the door.

“Of course not,” She responds earnestly, “Besides, you’re not the only one who needs the company.”

At her response, I sigh deeply and then look at myself in the bathroom mirror. I’d be repulsed and surprised by my appearance if I hadn’t already been like this for the past three days. Dark circles take up half my face, a face that looks like it hasn’t seen the sun in twenty years and I think I’ve started to lose weight, hence the hollowness of my cheeks. It’s been hard to sleep or eat these past few days because every second I’m picturing the dark veins under Alastair’s eyes, the sounds of Dana and Chad dying, and the victorious smirk on Klaus’ face. The latter who we’ve thankfully not heard anything about since that night at the school.

“Y/n! You ready?”

I try to dab some concealer and blush onto my face but alas I still look like a dead person. Ironically kind of like half the population of Mystic Falls since Klaus came to town. 

“Ya, let’s do this,” I open the door and try to smile at my best friend. 

—

“Here we are. Senior year,” Caroline says breathlessly as she, Bonnie, Elena, and I stand in the parking lot of the school.

“Yippee,” I say under my breath sarcastically and I hear Elena laugh. 

“Anyone else think this should feel slightly more empowering,” Bonnie asks and I have to fight back a yawn.

Caroline throws her hands up as none of us say anything, “Okay, so prank night was a bust but we are accepting it and we are moving on.”

“Dana and Chad can’t move on,” I bite and then quickly cringe when I realize how nasty that came out.

“Sorry,” I wince and Caroline sighs and places a hand on my shoulder.

“I know. And what happened was horrible, but we need to try to push past it,” She smiles at me but I can’t seem to find the strength to return it. How are we just supposed to push past the fact that two innocent teenagers were ruthlessly murdered? 

“You’re right,” Bonnie tries to lighten the mood as we start walking towards the school, “I mean, why should I let the fact that my boyfriend is seeing the ghost of his dead girlfriends hinder this experience?”

“And the fact he’s dating my brother,” I say under my breath and Bonnie shoots me a confused look. 

Caroline looks at me oddly before shaking her head, “Anyways…Yes, and why should I let the fact that my boyfriend was turned into a hybrid put a damper on an otherwise fabulous day.”

“Sure, and why should I let the fact that my friend ended up being a henchman of the devil himself, who for some reason likes to terrorize me,” I sarcastically say out loud and Bonnie and Caroline both cringe at the mention of Alastair. Two days ago they came over to the Gilbert’s and I filled them in on everything. 

“Today’s our anniversary,” Elena’s voice makes Caroline, Bonnie, and I halt, “Technically, Stefan and I met on the first day of school last year.”

“Yeah, you win,” Caroline says and I fight the urge to roll my eyes because an anniversary doesn’t really seem to be the worst thing that’s happened so far, but whatever.

“Can’t we just go home? Come back tomorrow. Or just drop out,” I try to reason but Elena grabs my shoulder and shakes her head.

“Nope. We’re doing this. We’re putting it behind us and becoming new people. New year. New life.”

I raise an eyebrow at my friend’s sappy words, “Ya. Okay. I guess.”

—

“Theo says he doesn't have a pencil. So I’m going to go meet him and then I’ll see you guys in class,” I tell Elena who shoots me an odd look.

“Doesn’t have a pencil? It’s the first day of school.”

I just shrug. Not really surprised at my brother’s lack of planning, “He does this. I’ll see you soon,” I wave to her and walk towards the cafeteria where I’m expected to meet my brother. 

Right as I turn a corner though I’m knocked into a hard chest.

“Ouch, I’m so sor-”

My words stop as I look up to the person I bumped into and freeze when I meet Alastair’s deep brown eyes. Compared to me, Alastair looks as pristine and gorgeous as ever. But I guess when you’re an immortal being, eyebags aren’t something you really have to worry about. He’s a dark black top that I’m sure is designer and brand new-looking lacks and loafers. 

“Y/n, good morning,” Alastair says in a soft voice as if we’re the best of friends still.

“What the hell are you doing here,” I growl at him and Alastair shoots me a confused look.

“I’m a student here, remember?”

I shake my head in annoyance, “You’re also a vampire,” I whisper-yell out the word so passersby don’t think I’m crazy, “You don’t go to school.”

“Stefan, Caroline and now Tyler do. So why can’t I,” He asks and I open and close my mouth about a hundred time trying to find an answer. 

“That’s not the same!”

Alastair smirks, “And why isn’t”

I raise my hands trying to find a reason and practically growl when I can’t think of one, “How old are you anyway? I bet you’re old. Why would someone old want to come to high school? It’s not like the movies, where everyone breaks out into song and dance. It actually fucking sucks! So just do everyone a favor and leave!”

I look around to see that some people have started watching us because of my little outburst. At the onslaught of eyes, my hands start to shake and I bite down hard on my lower lip.

“What the hell are you staring at,” Alastair’s once calm voice darkens as he growls out to the students. The latter quickly move on at the harsh look and words. 

Alastair looks back at me and his harsh look returns to a calm one so fast I think it’s going to give me whiplash. 

“I’m here for you,” He says matter-of-factly, “And to answer your other question I’m 645 years old.”

I blink. And blink. And then blink again. 

“You’re…”

Alastair smiles at me, “Old. Ya.”

“Y/N! Bless your kind and spirited heart for blessing me on this wonderful Monday morning,” Theo’s overdramatic voice pulls me from my stupor as I’m being slightly pulled back by my bag. 

I turn over my shoulder and see Theo unzipping and then going through my backpack.

“You got any drugs in here,” His question makes me shoot him a glare and he laughs.

“Joking! Kinda. Anyways, I have football practice after school so don’t wait up for me,” He finally pulls out a handful of pencils and I realize I’m definitely going to have to stock up since I know he’s going to lose them all by next week. 

“Oh hey, Alex,” Theo waves to Alastair and then puts a hand on my head, and then pats me like a dog. 

“Bye, my favorite nerd.”

I watch annoyed as my little brother practically skips down the hall, shooting fist bumps at other guys and winking at passing girls. 

“He does know my name isn’t Alex right,” Alastair questions and I laugh.

“I don’t think he cares,” I turn around and am about to smile along with him but instantly stop when I remember that we’re not actually friends. At least not anymore. 

“Just leave me alone, Alastair. I don’t want you here,” I walk past him and make my way down the hall towards Alaric’s classroom. Sadly though I hear Alastair’s expensive shoes behind me. 

“You have Ric’s class? Great! So don’t I,” He says as he easily catches up to me and walks beside me until we get to the classroom. 

As soon as we enter Ric shoots me a nervous look and I shrug, not really knowing what to do. Alastair was old, really old. If he wanted to kill us we wouldn’t be able to stop him. I quickly shoot down in the seat in front of Elena who looks at me with the same look as Ric. Caroline, who is currently shooting daggers at Alastair, sits beside her. Alastair sits down unphased in the seat on my right and I freeze when I turn to the person behind him. Yoda. Well, technically Ripper Stefan now. 

“Nice to see you, Y/n. I’ve missed you,” Stefan’s sarcastic words don’t seem to phase me as I glare at him.

“I wish all the vampires in this town would just die. For real,” I hear an insulted gasp from behind me and I turn back to Caroline, “Not you though.”

Caroline nods her head apporvingly. 

“Welcome back, seniors,” Ric’s voice turns my attention to the front of the classroom, “Let’s, uh, turn our brains back on starting with, uh, this country’s original founders the Native Americans.”

“What about the Vikings?’’

The British voice sends chills down my spine as a wave of nausea washes through me. Flashes of prank night cloud my vision and the smell of blood fills my nose.

“Well, there’s no evidence that Viking explorers actually settled in the United States,” Ric tells Rebekah as I watch in horror as she plants herself into the seat on my left. 

“Who are you?”

Rebekah smiles up at Ric, “My name is Rebekah. I’m new and history is my favorite subject.”

I bite down hard on my lip as Rebekah turns her head and looks at me. A sickeningly sweet smile comes onto her face as she sends me a small wave. I quickly whip my head forward at Ric who looks just as clueless as everyone else. New year, new me, my ass.

—

Adjusting my reading glasses, I place my book down on the grass momentarily. Caroline stands about 10 feet away with the other cheerleaders as they stretch before practice. Elena is also out here, but she’s on the track running. She had invited me to go running with her but I just laughed in her face thinking she was joking. When I realized she was indeed actually asking me, I once again laughed in her face and then told her to have fun and I’d be sitting on the grass reading my book. 

So for the past 15 minutes, that’s what I’ve been doing. Or at least have been trying. With the loud cheering music, the sounds of footballers hitting one another, and the hard-ass ground I’m sitting on, it’s been kind of hard to focus. 

“What are you doing here?”

Caroline’s angry voice has me perking up my head as I look up and surprisingly see Rebekah stretching next to her. 

“Sounds like you have an opening on the squad,” Rebekah says and Caroline glares at her and then looks over at me quickly. 

“Actually that spot just got filled,” Rebekah follows Care’s eyeline to me and we both have a confused look on our faces.

“Excuse me,” I question my friend and she walks over to me.

“Ya! Y/n is actually on the team now,” Caroline says matter-of-factly and I cringe at the thought.

“Ya Caroline,” I get her attention and she hums, “I can’t join. One because I literally would rather die, and two because gun shot to the shoulder remember?”

I gesture to my shoulder and Caroline opens and closes her mouth and then rolls her eyes in defeat before going back into line. 

“You were shot?”

I frown as Rebekah almost sounds caring as she asks me. She has a weary expression on her face and I glare at her. 

“You,” Caroline points at Rebekah, “Don’t talk to her. Why are you here?”

Rebekah leans down to stretch ignoring the blonde vamp.

“Hey,” Caroline prods, “Hey.”

Rebekah stands up and stares at my friend and honestly, I wish I had some popcorn to watch what’s about to go down. 

“You can’t just come here and infiltrate all of our lives.”

“I’m only interested in yours,” Rebekah says snarkily, “Your spunk, your popularity,” She looks over at Tyler who is running drills next to Theo, and then back to me, “Maybe even your boyfriend and best friend?”

“Oh, no she didn’t,” I ooh at them and Caroline glares at me. I cringe and pretend to go back to reading. I’m totally still watching both of them over my book though.

Rebekah walks away from Caroline but not before sending me a smile, one that I don’t return. Caroline looks at me like she doesn’t know what to do and I just shrug because I honestly don’t know either. 

Caroline walks off and I try to go back to my book but right when I’m about to focus the sound of a whistle is blown.

“Oh! Come on!”

I frustratedly watch as the football coach dismisses the football players way too early. Strange. And it’s not long before Theo is running up to me. 

“What’s up bitch,” He gests as he looks down at me. 

“I’ve told you not to call me that,” I sniff and then cover my nose in disgust, “You stink dude. God damn.”

My brother sniffs the air and then smirks, “That’s the smell of your boy making first string this fall. And, you call me a dumbass, so why can’t I call you bitch. Also, it’s not like I’m doing it deragotivly. I’m a feminist you know. I loveeee women.”

“There’s so much to unpack with what you just said,” I reach my hand up and Theo takes it and pulls me up. Careful to not pull too hard on my shoulder, “I call you a dumbass because you are a dumbass.”

Theo thinks to himself for a moment before smirking again, “A handsome dumbass.”

“You stress me out,” I groan as we start walking towards the school.

“And yet you can’t live without me.”

— 

Elena pulls her car into my Theo and I’s driveway and I sigh deeply when I see my mother's car parked in the driveway.

“You sure you’ll be alright? You can just come back to mine. I really don’t mind,” Elena tells me from her seat and I heavily debate the idea before shaking my head.

“I can’t live in your bed forever. Besides, if I stay over too long Theo will have questions. Questions I’m not ready or even sure how to answer.”

Elena nods solemnly as I open the door and get out. 

“Well, call me if you need anything alright,” I nod at her request, “I’ll see you tonight at the fire. Don’t be late or you’ll have Caroline to speak to.”

I flinch at the idea of making the already pissed-off blonde mad and nod. I give Elena a wave and slowly trudge my way up the stairs. I quietly open the front door, hoping my mother is on some business call and doesn’t realize I’m here.

“Y/n? Is that you?”

Damnit.

“Uh, ya. It’s me,” I clench my jaw as my mother enters the living room. She looks me over as if I’m just going to disappear. Which right now I wish I would. 

“I didn’t know when you’d be coming back,” She says in a hopeful voice that irks me. 

“Ya, I didn’t either,” We stand in silence for a moment before I start walking to my room, “I have to get ready for the bonfire tonight.”

“Wait!’’

My mother’s voice has me stopping in place and staring at the wall in front of me. I wait for her to speak and for a moment I don’t think she’s going to.

“I miss you,” Her strained voice has my eyes instantly tearing up, “I miss hearing you here. Laughing into your books, or hearing your music play in your room. Besides Theo, it’s so quiet here. You seemed so happy. I’m so sorry I changed that.”

Her apology and words have me clenching my fists in anger, “Happy? Happy! Do you really think I was happy? Mom, I was miserable! The only reason I was in my room reading my books and listening to my music was because I had nothing else! Nothing else to laugh about or smile about. And honestly, I’m not even surprised you never noticed either of those things since you were always gone,” I glare at my mother who is now crying at my confession, “You’re too busy focusing on your clients that you never even noticed your own daughter drowning in her head right in front of you. So no, I don’t want your apology. Because what’s done is done. ”

Without another word, I turn around and walk to my room, slamming my door behind me. 

—

“I’ll lure Stefan away from the bonfire then when he’s distracted…”

“I’ll shoot him,” Ric finishes off Elena’s sentence. 

I watch from my desk as the Scooby Gang try to come up with a plan to subdue Stefan at tonight’s bonfire. 

“Can’t Bonnie just juju him or something,” Damon questions. He’s currently sitting on top of my desk. 

“I’m trying to keep Bonnie out of this. I don’t trust that Stefan won’t hurt her,” Elena reasons and I nod.

“If Stefan tries to hurt my girl he’s going to have another thing coming to him,” I say as I pull out both of my fists. Damon looks down at me and rolls his eyes dramatically and pushes my fists back down. 

“Put those away, Rocky. You’re staying away from Stefan as well tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“Caroline, are you covered,” Elena asks the blonde vamp.

“Yes! I will make sure that the old Forbes jail cell is prepped and ready.”

“We’re forgetting a key player here. Rebekah? Wherever Stefan goes, the blonde ponytail tends to follow.”

At Damon’s mention of the blonde, I growl under my breath.

“Which is why it’s your job to keep her away,” Elena answers him.

“How? She’s an original. The last time I checked, we were out of daggers.”

“We could always wake Elijah up,” I say a little too quickly, and everyone in the room deadpans me, “Ok…guess not.”

“So then preoccupy her with your charm,” Elena says and I snort out a laugh.

“Might have better luck finding the dagger,” Ric says and my snorting gets louder.

“Sorry, I’m late. What’s going on?”

Tyler entering the room turns everyone’s attention and I use this to try to sneak Damon’s wallet out of his pants pocket. 

They’re all conversing and I’m about to get it but Damon stands up from his seat and the wallet falls out onto the floor in front of me. Damon seems to be entranced with whatever everyone is talking about to notice so I quickly lean down and grab the wallet. I smirk evilly to myself as I see the wad of bills and quickly grab some and put them in the pocket of my sweatshirt. I loud gasp jolts me and I drop the wallet.

“I didn’t do anything!”

I freeze and see Tyler on the floor unconscious with Damon over him.

“What are you doing?”

Caroline runs over to her boyfriend”

“He’s been sired,” Damon says as he stares down at the boy. 

“What,” Ric asks speaking for all of us.

“Sired. He feels loyal to Klaus because Klaus’ blood created him.”

“Uh oh,” I whisper as I slide the wallet onto the desk in front of me. 

“Loyal how?”

“He’ll seek acceptance from his master. It’s really rare, but maybe not so much in hybrids.”

Caroline looks up to Damon, “So how do we fix him?”

“Get a new boyfriend.”

—

“Just stay behind me and try not to go anywhere with Stefan alone ok?”

Elena’s worrisome expression makes me sigh, “I’ll be fine Elena. No pissing off Yoda. I got it. He’s not the only vamp I’m trying to hide from tonight.”

I cautiously look around the woods where dozens of teenagers drink and party to loud music. Thankfully, no signs of Alastair.

Elena and I approach She-Klaus and Non-Yoda who are standing next to a keg. Elena grabs the beer in Stefan’s hands and chugs it. Okay then. 

“Elena, Y/n, hi. What are you guys doing?”

“We’re having fun Stefan,” Elena hands me a beer but I reject it, “You have a problem with that?”

“Alright, take it easy,” Stefan says as Elena drinks another beer, “We both know you’re kind of a lightweight.”

Elena coughs, “Really? You think I’m going to let a blood addict tell me how to drink?”

A loud laugh leaves my lips at my friends comment, “She got you there man.”

Elena grabs my hand, drops her empty cup at Stefan’s feet, and leads us away from the two vampires.

“How much of a lightweight are you exactly?”

My question has Elena cringing, “Let’s just say tonight is going to be rough.”

—

I’m peacefully enjoying the quietness next to the fire when an annoying voice comes from behind me. 

“You know when my family and I were humans, once a month before the full moon our village would throw parties like this to celebrate,” I release a groan and stand up when I see Rebekah approach me. 

She instantly stands in front of me and raises her hands in surrender, “Please don’t go,” Her earnest voice stops me, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“I find that hard to believe,” I bite out.

“You don’t like me yet. And I understand why. You’re loyal to your friends. But I think you and I are going to be great friends one day.”

Rebekah’s words make me frown, “And why is that?”

Rebekah sits down on the log I was previously sitting on and she pats the spot next to her. I sigh as I sit down, much to her enjoyment. 

“I can’t tell you yet. But, I just know.”

I groan at those words, “Do all of you Mikaelsons just love using that phrase?”

Rebekah’s eyes narrow in question, “All?”

“Ya, you and Elijah. He’s said that to me like fifty-seven times.”

“You’ve met Elijah?”

I nod and look at the fire, “Uh, ya. Once or twice.”

I see Rebekah frown next to me and her face appears next to mine as she looks at my face, “Why are you doing that?”

“Dude you really have to work on personal space. And what am I doing?”

Rebekah points to my face, “You’re blushing! Why are you blushing when talking about Elijah? You’re not supposed to be blushing!”

My eyes go wide at her accusation, “I am not blushing! And certainly not because of Elijah! I don’t even think of the guy.”

Rebekah shoves her finger at me, “Liar! Your heart just skipped! Elijah not supposed to be the one making you blush.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Rebekah sits back and shrugs, “Nothing.”

“Rebekah! Seriously!”

We both stare at each other for a moment before I sigh and fall into my hands. I groan out in pain though when I put too much pressure on my shoulder.

“You’re hurt?”

I sit up and gently rub my shoulder, “I’m fine.”

“You mentioned earlier that you got shot. How did it happen?”

I look at the girl uneasily and for a moment I don’t see the Orignal vampire but a regular teenager. 

“The sheriff shot me when she was trying to shoot Damon.”

“And I’m guessing that is now a dead sheriff,” Rebekah says and I frown and shake my head. 

“No, of course not. It’s Caroline’s mother.”

“I don’t see how that matters. Especially when my brother finds out.”

“Elijah?”

Rebekah rolls her eyes, “You need to stop thinking about Elijah. It’ll only hurt you. I’m talking about Klaus.”

I shake my head in confusion, “What do you mean Klaus? Why would he give a damn?”

Rebekah’s eyes go wide and she clamps her mouth shut.

“Seriously!”

“Just heed my warning alright. Stay away from Elijah. For my family's sake and yours.”

An uneasiness washes over me, and then I sigh when Damon Salvawhore walks over to us.

“Hello, ladies.”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” I stand up and begin walking away but am pulled back by a hand grabbing my own. 

I look down and see Rebekah staring up at me, “I meant what I said about us becoming friends, Y/n.”

I stare at her for a moment before nodding and walking away from the two vampires. 

—

“Where do you think you’re going,” Alastair’s voice halts me and I grit my teeth.

“Of course you’re here,” I don’t turn around and look at him, I just continue walking.  

The vampire doesn’t get the hint the as he catches up to me easily and walks beside me. 

“Where are you going?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Y/n. Where are you going?”

I ignore him as I keep walking but a hand to the arm pulls me back lightly. I turn around and quickly pull my arm from Alastair’s grasp as I glare at him. 

“Don’t! Don’t you dare touch me! Just leave me alone,” I yell at him and he shakes his head.

“I told you I can’t do that,” His answer has me practically growling at him. 

“Oh ya, because you’re Klaus’ little bitch. I remember.”

I whip back around and continue walking.

“I am not his bitch,” Alastair says from my side.

“You follow his orders and listen to what he tells you. Kinda sounds like what someone's bitch would do.”

I hear a low growl escape Alastair’s mouth.

“Just tell me where you’re going.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“If you’re going to find Elena she’s already gone home.”

At his words, I halt.

“What?”

“Elena and Ric took Stefan away.”

I close my eyes and sigh. Great. 

“And how would you know that?”

“I was trying to find you and came across them taking an unconscious Stefan away.”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise since that means our plan actually worked. It never works. 

“And I bet now you’re going to run off and tell Klaus his precious boy toy has been compromised,” I bite out as I turn towards the parking lot. If Elena isn’t here anymore than I’m leaving. 

“Nope,” Alastair says popping the p.

I stop and turn to him in surprise, “No? Why not?”

“For one, I’m not his bitch. And two, my orders are to watch over you, nothing else. What your friends do in there past times is none of my concern. Well, as long as it doesn’t hurt or endanger you in the process.”

“Wait…hurt or endanger?”

I watch Alastair tense up as he realizes he slipped up.

“You’re here to protect me?”

Alastair doesn’t say anything as he looks down at his shoes.

“Alastair!”

“I’ve already said too much,” He throws his hands up and I roll my eyes and continue walking. Thankfully my car comes into sight and I march towards it.

“Where are you going?” “If you truly must know home. I’m going the fuck home,�� I bite out as I use my key thob to unlock my car door.

“Are you and your mother still fighting?”

I pause my hand on the car door.

“That’s none of your business.”

I throw open my car door and step inside. I don’t look at the vampire as I slam the car door shut and turn the car on. 

I’m just about to peel away when Alastair says one last thing to me.

“Our friendship wasn’t a lie to me.”

[jsprnt]

your vacation with your best friend doesn’t go as expected

jude bellingham x childhood best friend! reader

A/N: tuesday became thursday, but it’s up now!! based on this request!

W/C: 2.534

"wait for me! why are you walking so fast?!"

you shout, hurrying up and fastening your pace to match your best friend's younger brother's, jobe.

the white sandals on your matching white-polished feet, click-clack against the ground in repeated noises.

to some it would sound absolutely horrendous, it attracted attention from your surroundings. the sudden attention would make some squirmy, making them walk slower or even freeze in their spot.

to you, it was the sound of heaven. clicking flip-flops or sandals against the ground meant: warm weather and, of course, being on vacation.

"not my fault you're so much shorter.." the younger boy complains, black sunglasses framing his face- accompanied by his attitude, it made him look even more sassy.

"do jude and you, like- practice the same sentences or retorts?" you question, panting when you’re finally walking side by side.

"mhm, we have a whole book.." he hums sarcastically, and you swear you can see him roll his eyes through the black shades.

"of course, expected from the brothers who brainstorm instagram captions together.." you giggle at the memory, recalling the wrinkles and frowns on their face from overthinking so much. only for the final caption to be a single word or emoji..

"you don't understand.." jobe mumbles, throwing you a glance.

"it has to be absolutely perfect, it gives .."

"aura."

"aura.." you say the same word in unison, giving him a grin.

"yes, that book probably exists.."

"whatever, just come in..."

"I'm right behind you.." you speak, playing with the plastic bag in your hand as you both stand in the elevator. going up to your hotel room floor.

the white, tacky printed plastic bag was evidence of your quick aloe vera run to the local spanish pharmacy.

you knew, no matter the melanin in a persons skin. sun protection and after sun care were essential for everyone's health and wellbeing.

of course, jobe was nice enough to accompany you. in case you'd get scammed into paying twice the normal amount as a foreigner- who definitely didn't speak a lick of spanish.

well, jobe wasn't a pro either. though, his google translate expertise is always very welcome.

"okay, be ready in 45.."

"only? who said that?" you question, mentally calculating how you'll shower, do your makeup, and fix your hair in that time frame.

"jude just texted me.."

"isn't he the one who takes like an hour to do anything?" you scoff, pulling your room key out of your handbag.

"I don't know, y/n. would you be so kind to hurry up.." jobe gives you a fake smile, pushing you into your room.

"I'm gonna kill him if he's any later than me!" you exclaim, shutting your door.

you take a quick breath, quickly moving around your hotel room. you had your outfit and shoes picked out already, so you could speed through your routine without worrying about that.

you use every single minute properly, swinging your door open right at the 45-minute mark.

you adjust your dress, looking out your door to see both jude and jobe, leaning against the wall. jobe face deep into his phone.

"so.." you say, eyeing them carefully. though, your eyes stay glued on your best friend, jude.

the beige, linen shirt, complementing his, vacation bronzed skin tone perfectly. with his sleeves rolled up, you can feel your face heat up more than the current marbella weather.

just like, when you'd received a fat kiss on the cheek from a nine-year-old jude, back in year four, when you'd finally passed your time tables after trying so hard.

"you guys look nice, stylist?" you inquire, looking them up and down.

"all us.." jude chimes, proud smile on his face. eyes crinkling as the corners of his mouth curl up.

"mhm, improved.." you mumble, stepping out of your room and shutting your door. quickly tucking your room card in your clutch.

"okay, but you've improved so much. remember you almost died for those led, light-up sneakers? and now you're wearing high heels to go out.."

jobe pretends to shed a few fake tears, making you roll your eyes.

"come on, if we start talking about a fashion terrorist. you're number one on the list, before you even had a stylist or all this.."

"can't lie about that, man.." jobe laughs, already following you to the elevator. you don't notice the lingering eyes on you, jude's eyes stuck on your back.

eventually, after quite a cute taxi ride, with the driver coincidentally being a madridista, you arrive at the beach club. sun beaming down on your moisturized skin.

you quickly become busy with everyone around you, tipping back drink after drink.

you'd never been much of a social person, at least not before jude started dragging you to different parties or vacations.

I mean, it was difficult for you two to be apart from each other for so long. despite the fact that you lived so far from each other lately.

when you'd met back in primary school, at age six. your parents knew you would be joined by the hip for the rest of your lives.

playing in the sandbox, and building sand castles went to taking up football together. only for you to fall out after picking up a different hobby. while jude grew a sudden affection for the sport, making it his life goal to succeed in the football industry, just like his idols.

his focus and passion for the sport definitely stretched you both apart for a while. only for you guys to grow a stronger bond when he told you about his move to germany, to sign with bvb.

you became a busy university student, trying for the life of you to understand the effects of a torn acl for your next anatomy exam.

an aspiring orthopedic surgeon and a successful football player, made an interesting duo of friends.

you swirl the cosmopolitan in your hand, watching the pink liquid move in the clear glass with sudden interest.

you slowly pull yourself from your half-drunk trance, looking to your left, when you hear your best friend's name being shouted by an unfamiliar, shrill voice.

you watch as a blonde, fully made up lady touches jude on his shoulder. the light, but intimate touch makes you squint. a sudden ache starting to settle in your chest when you watch her perfectly manicured nails scratch against the fabric of his shirt, sleeves tight around his veiny biceps.

you clench your eyes closed, a sigh leaving your mouth before you move your head away from the sudden, torturous sight.

when you look down, you immediately notice your plain, stress-bitten nails. the sight is unsettling, though familiar- with all your exams, and your parttime job, piling stress on your body.

you run your fingers down your thumb nail, wishing you could fully enjoy your early twenties like the girl who just jumped into the pool, wearing the prettiest mini dress, without a care in the world. Or, like the other girl, who's mingling around, sniffling out a potential kiss or cuddle for the night.

you flicker your gaze back to jude, his hand going over to stabilize the blonde bombshell in front of him. keeping her up with a hand on his back, and a handsome smile on his face.

you bite your lip unconsciously, drawing blood when the girl smiles back. the blood mixes with your glittery gloss, making you swipe your tongue down your bottom lip.

jealousy, or whatever this was- it made you sick, nauseous. you tip your drink, the rest of the liquid entering your veins with fire.

love wasn't a first come, first serve..

you get up from your little seat, being back at the bar in no time to get yourself another one to soothe the burn and ache in your chest.

"y/n?" you look to your left, making eye contact with a relaxed-looking jobe. a can nursed in his right hand.

"you shouldn't drink, you're a baby.." you mutter, drunkenly ordering yourself a water.

alcohol cleaned up wounds right?

yes.

but, not emotional ones..

seeing jobe, so calm and collected, brings you back from your mental breakdown.

you knew, even with your common sense hanging by a single thread. your current predicament would never, ever switch up suddenly- just because you're actively damaging your liver.

"I'm above eighteen, 'member?" jobe speaks, eyes on the way you're sipping on your room temperature water.

"still a baby.." you mutter, giving him a look from above the rim of your glass.

he shivers, even with the weather reaching record temperatures, your scolding look scares him a little.

"mood swings? you were so jumpy and happy in the car.."

you groan, discreetly moving your head so jobe can see the sight you are being tortured with.

"he's literally just talking.."

"he's touching her everywhere.." you groan, looking up at jobe.

the younger boy knew about the way you secretly admired his older brother. it was difficult to hide after he'd stumbled upon a random note in your notebook when you were seventeen, containing pros and cons about dating jude, written by you.

you were so gone, the cons list was emptier than a pigeon's nest.

"he's not touching anyone, like at all. actually he's walking towards us.."

you gasp, eyes going wide as ever as you raise your head. afraid to look behind you in case he's right there.

"if you're lying, I-"

"what's all this? talking shit without me?"

you do a silent prayer, closing your eyes for a second before twisting your bar stool around.

you gasp when your chair wobbles, sudden, muscular arms wrapping themselves around your waist to keep you sitting down.

"you okay? drunk already, darlin'?"

you almost whimper at the nickname, clearing your throat when you jump out of your initial shock.

"mhm, had some water just now.."

torture, torture, and torture..

you clench your teeth uncontrollably, resting face looking something like you're about to explode..

"you don't look okay.." he mutters, bringing his hand up to cup your face, checking your temperature with his palm. 

"I'm fine.."

You shove his hands off, looking away. you try to keep your emotions at bay, the strings of your patience on the verge of snapping violently.

"I need- to go to the restroom.." you finally squeak, getting up and brushing shoulders with an incredibly confused jude.

the interaction garners a couple looks, and jobe immediately nudges jude. realizing he could become the match maker of the century..

"follow her, come on.." he urges, pushing his older brother away.

"I mean, did I say something wrong? Or did I do something bad?"

"go.."

the single worded response by jobe, has him following you. hot on your heels.

you gasp when you feel a sharp tug on your arm, getting pulled into a small room, right next to the staff room.

you blink, opening your mouth to scream bloody murder, but stop when you hear jude's voice.

"it's me, you're okay.."

he mutters quietly, and you can hear him rummaging around. finally, his hand makes contact with the light switch. the very dim light, making it possible to see him.

"what was that back there?" he questions, and just like the other occasions you've witnessed him being confused or angry, his accent thickens.

brown eyes stare into yours, and you shiver before looking away.

"said I'm fine, jude.."

"you cannot fool me, y/n. we've shared too many years together for me to not notice when you're not acting right." his hand reaches for yours, and you let him. like a love sick fool, you allow him to cross boundaries and enter your portal of comfort.

"you must like her, go ahead and date her.." you finally speak after a long silence, making jude's hold on your hand tighten.

"who?" he breathes, knotting his brows together with a frown. his heart begins thumping harder in his chest.

"the woman you were talking with..

you can feel immense embarrassment brewing in your chest. your breath shaky as you look back into his beautiful brown eyes.

"the woman I was - how does that indicate I like her? I can't talk with a woman, just because?"

you close your eyes in humiliation, biting your lip.

"is that not what it was?"

"chatting with a random person does not mean I fancy them.."

you clear your throat, no turning back now.

"oh, how else do you start showing you fancy someone? standing there like a robot?"

"you're unbelievably stupid.."

"I'm stupid?!" you question, voice high as your eyes widen in surprise.

your breath hitches when you feel a hand on your cheek, again jude's hand is warm. soft but his hold is rough around the edges. making sure you're looking directly into his eyes.

"you're so stupid, in the fifteen years of us knowing each other. have you, ever thought of why I've never brought a single girl home? introduced a girl as my girlfriend to you? to my parents even?"

your jaw closes, not a single peep leaving your lips.

you can feel his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheek, it gives you goosebumps instantly. your eyes not leaving his for a millisecond.

"now you won't even speak.."

he sighs, moistening his plump lips with the tip of his tongue.

the sight lures you in fully, the look of longing in your eyes, mixed with an unknown feeling of euphoria.

jude notices the eyes, those eyes made him melt every time he saw you. since the age of fourteen, you'd been the sole person who'd occupy the romantic emotions in his very heart and soul..

it's his cue, he thinks. this is it.

you're incredibly jealous, or sad he thinks. the way you're looking at him, all allured and eager.

without even realizing it, your lips inch closer. soft, warm breaths hitting each other's, makes you almost whimper. his hold on your jaw tightens, and he presses his plump lips against yours in a fervent kiss.

your hand reaches up to his bicep, the muscles on display the entire evening- tensing up under your needy touch.

he groans into the kiss, both eyes fluttering shut in relief.

a hand travels down to your waist, pads of his fingers making contact with the exposed skin on your midriff. softly running his hands down your burning skin.

he pulls back for air, your foreheads touching intimately as you both pant. lingering smile on your face when you look up at him.

"I love you and your pretty mouth, but next time don't jump to conclusions with this smart brain of yours.."

you chuckle. initial shock gone, earlier anger and frustration washed away by the single touch of his lips onto yours.

"I know, I'm sorry. I- I love you too.."

the words feel foreign falling from your lips, especially with knowing who's on the receiving end of your receptieve answer.

"why don't you just help me get used to your taste?”

he tilts your head, pressing a soft kiss against your temple.

after years of crushing, right now, within a heartbeat, he's yours.

[hcneymooners]

౨ৎ stargirl interlude: chapter iii.

wnba!paige x pop star!azzi. men & minors dni.

⋆ 🪩 masterlist.

cw: implied familial issues, fluff, first kiss, medium burn?, suggestive content, paige is never beating the down bad allegations, implied mental health issues.

notes: hello, hello. this is one of my favorite chapters. the songs used are "tinsletown in the rain" by the blue nile and "78fahrenheit (unreleased)" by ethel cain. i hope you enjoy yourselves. love you. can't wait to see you in my inbox.

III: INTERTWINED.

» please don’t break up with me, but i accidentally watched two episodes ahead of you

azzi smiled as her phone vibrated with an immediate response. since their dinner, there had been coffee. then another. and then another. another, another, another—until the cups blurred together, indistinguishable from habit. paige was so easy to slip into her life. a stone in the creek, changing the flow of water without trying.

azzi wished she could have kept her in new york forever, tucked her inside a pocket, but paige had to go back to dallas, a reality that nearly tore her apart. distance became a thing to work around.

they read the same books (paige used her ipad, which azzi found vaguely offensive—she was on a quiet, private campaign to convert her to a kindle). they made each other playlists, exchanged photos of their separate days. street signs, sky colors, the shine of oil on the concrete beneath their identically booted feet. this reminded me of you. 

azzi had even mailed paige a dark denim jacket she spotted in a boutique window in the east village. paige washed it immediately, wore it out the next day, prompting the internet to go feral trying to find the designer.

they had inside jokes now. a growing, shifting list of them. one of azzi’s favorites: “please don’t break up with me,” a melodramatic phrase they’d stolen from a book and used whenever one of them committed an unforgivable offense, like finishing a show too soon or forgetting to send a good morning text. 

the light ping of another message brought azzi back to the moment. 

» i’m never speaking to you again » wait which show?

watching things together was their ritual. the old-fashioned way: facetiming at the same time, counting down, pressing play in sync. there were easier ways to do it, probably, but azzi liked the effort of this. the reaching. it made her feel like she was participating in her own life, actively choosing it.

» chef’s table

azzi held her breath as she sent it.

» i can’t believe you, az!! » p, i fell asleep i swear it wasn’t on purpose. rehearsal was brutal and i went straight after the studio » the show is really calming and i was so sleepy from the warm shower » idc you KNEW

then, 

» mind you, YOU crashed out over ME watching FITEEN MINUTES of anthony bourdain 

azzi pressed her lips together, failing to contain the joyous twist of her mouth. the grin eventually broke free and spread through her cheeks. she tucked her hair behind her ear.

» that was different » bro, how????? » whatever! look, p, i can rewatch! i don’t mind, you know i don’t » … » i’ll consider it

with a soft huff of laughter, azzi rolled out of bed and opened her blinds. her joy seemed infectious, coaxing the sun through the open pane of her window. she stood in the middle of her bedroom for approximately three minutes, her feet bare against the wooden floor and one arm up and stroking the hill of her shoulder. 

she felt both unreasonably young and, in some absurd way, already old in the faint light of the morning. she looked down at herself, taking in the wrinkled pink-striped boxers and the vintage yale sweatshirt that seemed to have settled around her with a tired resignation. she remembered when she'd wanted to go there, when her mother had taken her on a visit, the two of them wandering new haven, pretending it could be a future. the thought hurt, brief but sharp. she couldn’t remember the last time she and katie had been…right, together.

her phone buzzed—a quick, familiar pattern. katie.

azzi twisted her hair into a messy knot at the back of her neck, securing it with an elastic, and lowered herself into a half-hearted yoga pose. three more buzzes. then, the phone would ring.

azzi sat cross-legged beside her bed, feet pressing into the floor like she was willing herself to grow roots. she picked up the phone.

“hey, mom.”

“hey, honey. were you in the shower?”

“azzi’s face scrunched as she lied, a gesture so automatic it felt like a tic. “um, no, just doing some stretches. i started wearing earplugs to block out the morning traffic. sorry. what’s up?”

“you shouldn’t do that, baby,” katie said, that casual tone that still landed like a reminder. “look, i’m outside your apartment. brought breakfast.”

azzi almost groaned but swallowed it, layering her voice with fake enthusiasm. “yum,” she said, but it came out flat before lifting just enough at the end to sound like a decent person.

⟡

her mother had gotten a haircut.

katie’s blonde hair had been cut into a sharp bob, and azzi noticed it immediately. it suited her, the kind of sharp, neat cut that was popular on magazine covers in the coffee shop she liked to frequent. azzi felt a small pang of something—resentment, maybe, or just recognition that katie was doing things for herself again, things azzi couldn’t quite figure out how to do.

still—she was glad her mother was finding things to do outside of managing her. thanks, max, she thought.

she opened the door still in her pajamas, and katie was standing there, two large boxes of breakfast from the diner a few blocks away, the coffee holder hanging from her hand like a prop. katie didn’t say anything, just gave her the kind of look that azzi couldn’t place but that made her chest feel tight. azzi leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her mother’s plump cheek, the skin softened by her morning creams and serums. 

azzi wandered into the kitchen, pressing her finger against the surface of her rose gold ipad, searching for the song paige had sent her a few days ago. she’d been meaning to listen to it, had actually enjoyed it when she did.

she found it—‘mythological beauty’ by big thief. paige had sent it to her with the message:

» idk why spotify recommended this to me, seems more up your alley » discover weekly my ass, half of these songs suck

azzi had hidden a smile behind her hand while standing in line to pick up that night’s pizza order. she’d texted back teasingly, saying,

» this may be a sign to let go of drake  » i ain’t holding on to him 

azzi hadn’t replied until later, sending back a grainy video shot on her old iphone se, its shaky camera making her look soft-focus. she was sitting on her bed, a sage-colored silk scarf holding back her curls, listening to the song. the video ended with an awkward thumbs-up and a muffled giggle. “i love it,” she said, like it was a confession.

now, azzi snapped a photo of the song on the tablet and sent it to paige.

» miss you

“azzi?”

azzi turned around, startled by the sound of her mother’s voice.

“yeah, sorry. what were you saying?”

katie, looking shy, busied herself unpacking the breakfast boxes, rearranging food on pale green plates with hand-painted garlands of pink roses.

“i was saying that, well, i miss you.”

azzi didn’t know what to say to that. “oh,” she said, and immediately regretted it, as if the word had been a reflex she hadn’t meant to expose. 

katie’s posture deflated, and azzi rushed over, sidling up to where her mother had begun cutting up the eggs into neat squares. she grabbed a plate and began assembling breakfast, the rhythm of the task comforting, familiar. she pulled away to grab glasses from the cabinets.

“you know, i was thinking about our yale visit when i was obsessed with going.”

katie looked up, eyes softening. “i remember.”

azzi half-smiled. “i wouldn’t stop playing that song, and you were so close to kicking me out of the car. i can’t remember the song, though.”

katie’s lips curved into a fond smile. “'need you now' by lady a. you played it on repeat because you were convinced you could sing it better than they could.”

azzi laughed then. she sat on a stool at the counter, the ache of the morning light catching her in its awkward glow as she ate, chewing slowly, mindlessly.

“why the hell was i so obsessed with yale anyway?”

“honestly? i think you saw it as your last shot at normal. you could dream about college, like the other girls, instead of being in the studio all the time, surrounded by everyone except your family. you were twelve when you got discovered, fourteen when you had your first album out. and now you're twenty-three, still trying to figure out what the hell you're doing.”

azzi didn’t say anything, but the words settled in her chest like something unexpected. there was a relief in it, in hearing it out loud, in realizing that, maybe, they weren’t as different as they sometimes seemed.

“i guess i fed into it because i felt guilty,” katie added softly, almost to herself.

once again, azzi was unsure of how to respond, but she felt it—the weight of that invisible truth that had always sat between them. she felt herself relax, the air clearing just enough for her to breathe a little easier.

“maybe i should release a country album,” azzi said, and katie barked out a laugh, sharp and familiar.

if azzi didn’t know better, she might’ve thought the sound was her own.

⟡

but azzi’s largest issue remained: she was unable to be content for long periods.

happiness came, stayed long enough to fool her, then drained away in increments. moreso now, as she slogged through the laying of the bones of her new album. she found herself withdrawing.

since that morning with her mother, it had gotten easier to admit to minor irritations, the small inconveniences of daily life. but there were still things she kept to herself. like how badly she wanted paige back in new york.

their movie nights had transitioned from ‘facetime + film’ to just ‘facetime.’ azzi hadn’t asked for it outright. she had just postponed pressing play, filling the space instead with long, looping stories, tangents about nothing, stalling without meaning to. eventually, paige caught on. and being paige—being someone who never let anything slide—she finally said,

“if you wanna talk to me, just say that.”

azzi looked up from her desk. she’d started handwriting songs again, her moleskine journal thick and inflamed, its strap barely holding it together, blood red cover scuffed and soft at the edges.

it took a second to process what paige had said, her voice still rough from sleep. only an hour between them, but it always felt like more. when the meaning finally settled, azzi flushed hot, ducking out of frame.

paige smiled, amused, rolling onto her stomach so her face pressed into the cotton of her pillow. she looked soft like this. angelic. her blonde hair waved around her shoulders, those blue eyes dark in the low light, the lilac strap of her nike sports bra just visible. azzi focused on that instead of responding.

“you don’t sleep in that, do you?” she asked instead. “it’s bad for circulation.”

paige grinned, pearly teeth gleaming. “oh yeah?”

“yes,” azzi said, exasperated. “it can, like—affect development. it’s not good for you.”

paige hummed like she was considering this. then shifted just enough for azzi to catch the dip of her cleavage. “yeah, i think we're past that point, baby.”

azzi turned a deeper red, arms crossing over her stomach. she tried to sink further into the gaping mouth of her navy blue hoodie. paige could see the whisper of a dress beneath the hem.

“shut up,” she muttered. “i wasn’t—i wasn’t trying to comment on your tits. i was just saying.”

“oh, my bad. sorry, princess.”

“i’m hanging up,” azzi deadpanned, face blank.

paige held back a laugh. “aight, chill. you just so easy to fluster.”

azzi scoffed. “i’m easy to fluster? be serious. when my calvin klein campaign dropped, you quite nearly went into cardiac arrest.”

paige’s face immediately went pink.

“aight, now.”

“no, not ‘aight now.’” azzi leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “you left me on read for two days. if i hadn’t dmed kk on twitter—of all places—i wouldn’t have even known you spent the entire time curled up in a little red ball.”

paige shrugged, still a little pink, biting down on her lip. she was thinking. then deciding. letting her lip slip free, her expression turning lazy, sharp. azzi felt something hot unfurl low in her stomach. 

“okay, yeah, i had a minor crashout,” paige admitted, dragging a hand through her hair. her cross pendant dipped into the hollow of her throat. “a lil’ itty-bitty breakdown. but can you blame me?” she looked into the camera then, voice low. “az, you looked so fucking good. the baby pink ones were my favorite.”

azzi stilled, fingers twitching.

paige grinned. “you get to bring a pair home?”

azzi hung up.

the callback was immediate. she let it ring, took her time answering. finally, just before it stopped, she picked up.

“did you just hang up on me?”

“no,” azzi said, voice smooth, wide-eyed like she meant it.

paige let out a slow, dry laugh, her nose flaring. “aight. keep playin’.”

azzi rolled her eyes. “will you fly out if i do?”

paige’s face softened.

azzi sighed, already standing. she drifted away from her desk and set the phone down on her floor, balancing it against the nearest stack of books. she slipped away, and when she came back into the frame, she’d changed.

the hoodie was gone. instead, the soft curve of her shoulder, the clean line of her collarbone, the faintest trace of tan lines against her skin. the dress was simple—cream-colored, thin-strapped, almost weightless. the silk shifted when she moved, clung to her like a second skin.

paige didn’t say anything at first. just stared.

azzi adjusted the strap where it had slipped. “are you okay?”

paige’s voice was slower now, almost slurred. azzi’s body began to tingle with the recognition of desire. “you just look real… delicate.”

azzi’s brows furrowed, but the flush was already creeping up her throat, settling at the tips of her ears.

paige watched her, half-lidded, half-smiling. “like, if i touched you, you’d bruise.”

“do you want to bruise me?” azzi asked, tucking her legs beneath her neatly. 

paige didn’t have an answer, and the silence made azzi press her tongue to the back of her teeth. she made a face, pressing her lips together, but she laughed a little, shaking her head. 

paige was still watching.

azzi fidgeted, like she might change the subject, then reached for something off-screen. a small, instinctive movement. when she lifted the moleskine journal into the frame, she didn’t say anything. just held it there and tilted her head. 

paige raised a brow. “you gon’ show me?”

azzi exhaled. then nodded, shifting the camera down.

the pages were a mess, ink heavy in some places, light and faded in others. words crossed out, rewritten, and pressed deep into the paper. paige recognized azzi’s handwriting—messy when she was in a rush, looping and neat when she was careful. there were little angel wings in the margins. a few water stains. coffee, too. 

azzi flipped to a page near the middle. “this one’s kinda about you,” she murmured.

paige felt something warm unfurl in her chest, slow and blooming. she cleared her throat. “yeah?”

she could see some of the lyrics, but the words were twisted and reversed. azzi reached forward, picking up her phone, switching the camera so she could see them more clearly. paige knew she should’ve been reading, but her eyes caught on the strong bones of azzi’s hands instead, the slight tension in her knuckles, the chipped ballerina-slipper pink clinging to the edges of her fingernails.

do i love you? yes, i love you will we always be happy go lucky do i love you? yes, i love you but it’s easy come and it’s easy go all this talking talking is only bravado

“it’s a dance song. kind of 80s. i wrote it forever ago, but now i—” azzi hesitated, just for a second. “i feel it again.”

paige blinked as the camera flipped back, azzi’s face coming into view.

“it’s me singing about you,” she said. “but also asking myself if i’m gonna fuck it up. if it’s gonna last before i—” she made a little motion with her hand, something between a wave and a slow collapse—“bring myself down.”

she paused, tilting her head. “but the beat pulses. it kinda—” she hopped her fingers across her thigh, gave a small, absentminded shimmy of her shoulders—“jumps around, so you can’t tell if i’m happy or sad. i remain an enigma, and you really hope i’ve got it under control.”

her voice was light, teasing, but something about it snagged in paige’s chest, caught in the tender spaces between bone.

azzi tapped the page with her pen. “mm. it’s not done.”

paige smiled, slowly. “sing it to me.”

azzi’s lips parted like she might object. but then something in her expression shifted, went softer. she turned the page over, tapping her nails against the paper.

her throat trembled, a melody climbing inside it. then, she sang.

her raw voice was husky but light, full of something old and unnameable, something that had always been aching. it knew nothing of peace, and it invaded paige in the same way. the sound of it as it peaked—high and breathless, curling at the edges—went through paige like a pulse, like a shock of warm water against her ribs.

it was orgasmic. it felt like a million birds bursting into flight underneath her skin.

⟡

the venue smelled heavily of varnish and sweat, the air thick with the ghosts of girls azzi had been before, versions of herself she was trying to slip back into, feel out like old sweaters. some still fit. some itched against her skin, wrong in ways she couldn’t quite name. 

she had been moving for hours, letting muscle memory guide her through old material, testing where her voice still lived in them, where it wavered, where it no longer belonged. it was a relief for her body to find the old melodies still inhabitable, to still understand where best to collapse and rebuild. 

barefoot, azzi traced slow circles across the stage, rolling her shoulders, stretching her arms above her head. the room was empty except for a single spotlight pooling around her, turning the sweat at her collarbone to gold.

she had yet to notice that paige was there.

paige had slipped in through the side door, keeping to the shadows, her heart pounding hard enough that she could feel it in her fingertips. the flight had been an impulse, the need to see azzi—unshakable. now she sat in the darkened auditorium, watching azzi move like she was underwater, like she was feeling her way through something only she could hear.

the usual spectacle was stripped away—no sequins, no stage makeup, no cameras angled to catch her best side. just azzi, raw and untethered, her voice curling into the dark like smoke. paige could feel it under her skin, the way it lifted, shimmered, the way it sent something sharp down her spine. even the music was muted and warbling; azzi relied on her own words to paint the picture of what she envisioned.

she lost herself in the song, body twisting, spine arching, a prayer in motion. and when she reached the last line— is it something i did? and did i do it to you?—she reached blindly into the air, fingers grazing nothing before coming back to wring loosely around her throat. but something in her must have felt it, some part of her must have known.

then she rolled, first onto her stomach, then onto her back, arms flung wide. her head tipped back until it hung off the edge of the stage. she opened her eyes, her mouth—

and saw paige.

she was upside down in the seats below, watching her, blonde and breathless.

for a moment, neither of them moved. azzi’s chest rose and fell, her breath still uneven. paige’s hands had curled into fists in her lap. her pulse slammed against her ribs. she felt eerily close to claiming something; it was the same feeling that rocked her when she was on the court. 

and then, like she was being pulled by something outside of herself, she stood. climbed onto the stage, moving toward azzi’s sprawled-out form, laid out like an offering. azzi blinked slow, gaze molten and unfocused, but she wasn’t stopping her.

paige didn’t think. she moved.

her fingers found the warm column of azzi’s throat, thumb pressing just below her jaw. she felt her swallow, felt the rapid, unsteady beat of her pulse.

then she bent down and kissed the damp, brown skin just below azzi’s ear.

azzi made a sound, soft, almost imperceptible. paige might have imagined it, but she didn’t pull away. so paige kept going, trailing her mouth along the sharp edge of azzi’s jaw, moving slow, reverent. when she reached the corner of her mouth, she hesitated, just for a second—

azzi turned her head the tiniest fraction. not much. but enough.

paige exhaled shakily, then kissed her, lips parting, tasting sweat and something animalistic, something electric. azzi sighed into it, a quiet, complacent thread of air, and the sound sent a shiver through paige, sharp and unbearable. she wasn’t sure if she was shaking or if it was just the world moving underneath her.

somewhere in the distance, a door slammed. the spell snapped. paige pulled back, breathless. azzi stayed where she was. 

lips parted; eyes hazy. a beat. then another.

azzi’s lips curled, just slightly. “i didn’t even know you were coming,” she murmured.

paige laughed, suddenly and breathlessly. she pressed their foreheads together, her head heavy with the force of her blood flow.

“yeah,” she whispered. “you knew. you asked me to.”

⟡

karnold: i feel as president-elect of bueckers-fudd nation, it's my duty to let you know that paige might in fact be locking in ⤷ drewbuckets: she’s going to murder you in cold blood ⤷ uconnsports: who elected you?? ⤷ username: the question we all need to be asking ⤷ username: mind you why is uconn’s update page here if paige is now in dallas??? ⤷ dallaswingsofficial: we’re all invested ⤷ username: omg wait are they gfs??? ⤷ karnold: mind the business that pays you ⤷ karnold: but no #wives 

© hcneymooners.

[bookshelf-dust]

kiss it better

steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3,176

warnings: swearing, sick fic (sorta), steve not taking care of himself, anxiety, stress, mental breakdown?, best friends to lovers deal (let me know if i missed something)

a/n: hi! it’s been awhile. i’m sorry about that. this has been a very slow process for me. my mental health is shit, and that’s probably obvious. i hope it hasn’t seeped into this too much, but it probably will with the next few things i write. i apologize for taking so long to post, for disappearing, for not really making this the blog it once was. but i’m not the same person i was then. so we’ll see where this goes. i hope you enjoy this one a little. i love you.

————

The shrill sound of a phone ringing scares you awake, eyes flying open, heart pounding so aggressively you fear for a split second that it might burst. 

You sit up quickly, enough so that you make yourself dizzy trying to get your bearings. You roll onto your side, and reach blindly across the edge of your nightstand, grabbing for the green plastic that’s shaking with the force of which it’s ringing. 

You almost fall out of bed, just managing to catch yourself as you bring the phone to your ear. 

“Hello?”

Your voice comes out weak, thick with sleep and the longing for more rest. It startles you and makes you clear your throat. 

“Hey, it’s me.”

The voice on the other line is even weaker than your own. It’s quiet.

“Steve?”

Your eyes find the alarm clock on your dresser, bright red letters telling you it’s just after one in the morning. You might be half-asleep, but you’re conscious enough that your heart rate picks up, registering that this isn’t when your best friend normally calls. 

You hear him breathe, along with some shuffling. He’s nodding his head, but realizes you can’t see. 

“Yeah. Listen,” he drags a shaking hand down his face. “I’m sorry to call so late.”

“Hey, it’s okay. What’s the matter? Is something wrong?”

He goes quiet for a moment, but you wait patiently for him to continue. He must be trying to get something out, and you don’t want to pressure him, or cause him stress in any way. 

Steve huffs, frustrated with himself. 

“I-I’ve got an insane headache, and we’re out of goddamn medicine. My parents were here, and my mom was hungover and I guess she must’ve emptied us out, but it hurts too bad to drive, and…” He trails off, breathing heavily. 

His pause lends you a moment to process, and you decide to speak up. If his head is killing him, you know finding the energy to speak to you, let alone call, has to be draining. You wouldn’t want him to suffer anymore than he already is. 

“Stevie?” you start, happy to hear a small hum that encourages you to go on. He registers what you’ve called him, something you don’t call him often, and his chest aches. “I’ve got some I can bring you. I think all the drugstores nearby are closed.” 

You swing your legs out from under the covers, pushing yourself off the mattress. Pressing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, you pull on the pair of sweats slung over the end of your bed, trying not to bust your ass as you hop into them. 

“Is anything else hurting you?” you ask, gently as can be. 

“Honestly?” he responds. “I think I’m sick. I can’t be sick, can I?”

You stand upright once again, taking the phone firmly in your hand. 

“I think even King Steve can get sick from time to time. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

————

Steve’s not sure you understand him. He can’t be sick. He’s got shit to do. He has a shift tomorrow, and he’s pretty sure Dustin needs a ride one day this week because Claudia is on a “girls trip.” He has to keep working on his college essay, because he’d told you he was almost done, but really he isn’t. 

Steve doesn’t have the time to be sick. And he can’t have you ruining your own schedule to come and babysit him. He’s supposed to be the babysitter. Not the charge. 

He should be able to take care of himself, but of course, the one time his parents come home they clean out his mediocre supply of medicine. Something he’s always stocked up on, given his tendency to get the shit beat out of him, or the nasty string of tension headaches that just won’t quit. 

And his head is killing him. He has his palms pressed to his temples, trying (and failing) to dull the ache. There aren’t any lights on in the kitchen, where he’s sitting on the floor, back pressed to the cabinets. 

He’s trying not to move too much either, because he’s dizzy. This probably has to do with the fact that he skipped dinner, feeling too nauseous to eat. Now that Steve is hungry, he fears he won’t be able to get up and fix anything. 

Maybe you’ll be able to help, he thinks. But that voice is quick with a counter argument. No. I need to do it. 

He perks up at the sound of the front door opening. “Steve?” you call out, careful not to slam the door or yell too loud. It’s also why you hadn’t rung the doorbell. 

Steve raps his knuckles softly against the countertop, hoping it’ll be enough to clue you in. He can’t bring himself to shout right now. You follow the sound, taking the few steps toward the kitchen. 

When your eyes lock on his figure, see the way the heels of his hands press into his eyes, you realize how young he looks. He almost looks small, legs pulled up to his chest, big, lanky body compacted as much as possible. He looks vulnerable. You’re sure he hates that. 

“Hi, Steve,” you say, keeping your voice low. 

He looks up at you, and his face splits into a sweet grin. He’s happy that you’re here, even if that voice is screaming at him, wanting to punish him for asking for help. 

“Hey, honey.” You smile back at him, and his heart rate picks up. Sometimes he forgets how beautiful you are, and then you’re standing in front of him, snatching every last breath from his lungs. 

You set your bag down beside him and reach out, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He feels a little warm, but not feverishly so. 

You move away from him, grabbing a cup from the drying rack. You fill it up with water and crouch at his side. Steve takes the glass from you, head resting against the cabinet to watch as you grab him some medicine. You hand him a few pills, and he takes them quickly. If he doesn’t get this headache calmed down soon, he thinks he might just die. 

Steve keeps drinking the water you gave him, and you push his hair back again, watching the way it curls around his ears. 

He drinks about half of the water before he pauses, taking a deep breath. He looks at you then. It’s mostly dark in the kitchen, but the lamp on the table by the front door is on, so you’re a little backlit from it. Not to mention the moonlight seeping in from the window above the sink.

You look gorgeous. And you came over to take care of him. You got up, at one in the morning, and drove to his house, just because he asked you to. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. He hadn’t gotten the words out. But you’d known. You’d known exactly what he was trying to ask, and you’d offered your help with no qualms. 

Steve’s nose starts to sting, and that pressure from behind his eyes—it starts to release. Before he knows it, his vision is getting cloudy, and he’s crying. He can’t be crying, can he? 

You carefully remove the glass from his hand and move in between his spread knees. 

“Steve, it’s okay. I’m here, and I’m gonna take top notch care of you.” 

“I know you are,” he says, voice breaking. “But I should be able to do it myself. I always do it myself.” He presses his hands against his face, but you catch his wrists and gently pull them away. 

You hold your arms out, and Steve practically falls into you. He buries his face in your neck. He can feel the warmth of your skin, the cotton of your sleep shirt. You smell like soap, that fancy conditioner you use. 

One of your hands finds the base of his neck, nails scratching gently over his scalp, thumb dragging over the top of his spine. Your other rubs soothingly up and down his back. 

“But the thing is, Stevie, you don’t have to.” 

He’s not a loud crier. But he is sort of panicky, breaths coming quick and short, chest heaving against your own. “I know you’ve always had to do a lot by yourself, but you can ask for help, and you don’t have to punish yourself for it, either.”

You feel him nod against your collarbone. His hands are fisting the back of your shirt. Eventually, he pulls away, but keeps his eyes closed. He tries to keep his head turned from your gaze. 

“Hey. Look at me.”

He does, albeit reluctantly. Steve’s cheeks are flushed, lashes clumped together and lips parted where he tries to suck in a good deep breath. 

You reach up, fingers gently sweeping away the remainder of the tears on his face. He leans into your touch, and you let him. You lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his forehead. You’ve never done that before.

Steve recognizes that you’ve never done it before, even if it’s sort of fuzzy. Sure, he’s kissed the back of your hand and you’ve reciprocated, but he’s usually the one to initiate physical affection. You’re too shy most often, even if you ache to do it. 

Fuck, he wishes he were a little more coherent right now. 

“Can you stand for me? It’s late, and I think you need to rest.”

He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, sure.” Now that he’s thinking about it, getting in bed sounds so nice. 

You stand first, and watch as Steve pushes off the floor, gripping the countertop on the way up to steady himself. 

“Come on. The stairs are gonna be a pain.”

He reaches out for you, and you let him take your arm. He pads out to the staircase, and you watch each precarious step he takes, hoping he won’t get too woozy and trip. 

By the time he finally makes it up there, he’s wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face between your shoulder blades. You soften beneath his hold. 

You walk slowly towards his bedroom, and he waddles behind you. You push the door open. “M’kay, Steve. Wanna change clothes and hop into bed?” 

He pulls off of you and grabs hold of his dresser. “I’m not givin’ you a free show.”

You snort. “I’ll go get some more water and be right back.”

His grin fades. “Please be fast.” He doesn’t want you to go. He doesn’t want you to leave him. 

“Steve, I’m practically The Flash.”

He laughs, pulling a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the drawer. Usually he’d sleep in less, but with you here he feels he should keep his modesty.

When you return, he takes the water from you, drinking it faster than he probably should. Steve feels like he’s had the shit beat out of him, and for once—he hasn’t. 

You’d sat down on the edge of the bed, not noticing the way he’s staring at you. You look up when he sets the glass down. He drags both hands down his face. 

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He exhales. “I want you to stay here with me, but I don’t want you to get sick. The idea of you being on the couch, which is like, miles away, is driving me insane.”

“Steve?”

“Huh?”

“Can’t I just sleep on the futon?”

His eyes move towards the other side of his room where said piece of furniture is pressed against the wall. He’d bought it when group sleepovers became a thing after all they’d dealt with. Jesus, his brain really isn’t working. 

“Oh. Yeah, honey. Just don’t want you to go far.” 

You lean forward and push his hair back from his forehead. You’ll need to remember to take his temperature come morning.

“I’m not going anywhere, Steve. I promise. Not until you’re all better.”

————

When Steve wakes up, you’re not there. He starts to panic, thinking maybe he’d been too much, maybe he’d shown you a side of himself he shouldn’t have, that maybe you left. 

But you return to his room just as he’s about to start looking for you. There’s a thermometer in your hand. 

“Morning, sleepy boy. Are you coherent enough for me to check your temperature? Or no?”

He yanks the covers off of himself, and his shirt has ridden up. You catch a sliver of tummy before he sits up fully, and you miss it the second it’s gone. 

“Hit me, I can take it.”

You roll your eyes but stick the thermometer under his tongue when he opens his mouth. When you pull it away, you’re happy to see he hasn’t got a fever. He was warm last night when you kissed his forehead, but you’re thinking it was from stress or just overheating. 

“No fever. What’s buggin’ you today, Stevie?”

He flops onto his back, and his shirt rides up again. You mentally slap yourself for being so enamored by it. All your brain can compute is tummy. Steve’s tummy. “My head still, and my stomach. I feel like I haven’t slept in four years.”

His words snap you out of your reverie. “Four years? That’s incredible. When’s the last time you ate something?”

Steve stares at you for a moment, though it looks as if there isn’t a single thought behind his eyes. “Yesterday…morning. I think. Yeah, I had a banana.”

You stare back, rather appalled at his statement. “Steve.”

“Hm?”

“All you’ve had to eat in the past twenty four hours is a banana?”

“Yep.”

“Jesus christ. Get your ass up and come with me.”

Steve doesn’t move. Rather he watches you move, right out the door and towards the top of the stairs. You pause and turn around, crossing your arms. 

He huffs. And then he slides down the side of the bed like a child before crawling up and following you to the kitchen. 

Over the course of the next few hours, you manage to get Steve to eat, shower, and go for a short walk, weather permitting and all. He’s looking astronomically better than he did last night. 

Steve sits opposite you on the couch, his socked feet in your lap. “What do you think my deal is?”

You rub your hand over his calf. “I think you just had a little bug. Or maybe you let yourself get too stressed out and your body couldn’t take it.”

He blinks. “Is that…that's not a thing? Is it?”

“When’s the last time you gave yourself a fuckin’ break, Steve? When you just took a day for yourself rather than worrying about who needs to go where, or if you’ll have to cover a shift? You have to take care of yourself, or this is the kind of shit that happens.”

“Being overwhelmed about your parents, not eating, worrying about that application, all of that is fucking with you. That headache was probably a stress headache. They’re killer. I want you to be healthy and comfortable, Steve.”

You exhale, and close your eyes. When you open them, Steve has sat up, scooting towards you on your end of the couch. 

He might still be tired, but he can’t believe this. He can’t believe you. No one has ever worried for him in this way. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask. 

He barely even registers your words, too busy memorizing every line on your face. You look so fucking beautiful. It almost makes him angry. 

“I’m thinkin’ about how bad I want to kiss you.”

Your face starts to burn. You shove his shoulder. He looks at the place where you’d pushed, quirking a brow, but grinning nonetheless.

“What?”

“Steve, you can’t say shit like that.”

“How come?”

“Because we’re friends.”

“Best friends.”

“Well yeah, but best friends don’t say that to one another.”

His grin widens. He looks more awake than he has this entire time. 

“Oh, but you haven’t said it.”

You blink. “Huh?”

Steve gets his voice up that little bit higher, doing a cheap imitation of you. “‘Best friends don’t say that to one another.’ Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but that implies you want a kiss too, doesn’t it?”

You drag your hands down your face and flop back against the arm of the couch. 

“So you gonna say it, or what?” He’s shifted, and you can feel him hovering over you, but you refuse to move your hands. 

“Of course I’m thinking about kissing you, Steve.” You suck in a breath and open your eyes, locking with his own. “But you’ve got cooties.”

Steve rolls his eyes before he backs up and yanks on your ankle so that you’re flat against the couch. 

“You did not just lecture me about self-care just to tell me I have cooties. I didn’t even have a fever.” 

“I didn’t even have a fever,” you mock, lowering your voice in what is quite possibly the worst impression of him you could do.

He’s quick about it. Almost stealthy, not that you’d ever boost his ego by telling him so. But his fingers are reaching for your sides, the tips dancing over your shirt, that tiny sliver of hip showing where it’s ridden up. 

Steve is practically drunk off of your laugh. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and when he goes for your neck, when you tilt your head and trap his fingers between your cheek and shoulder, he thinks he could die. 

You and your laugh. The fact that you drove over at one in the fucking morning, without even thinking about it, just because you care. That you stayed the night, listened to his pitiful thoughts, took care of him…it’s too much. 

Never in his life did he think he’d find someone like you. Someone who makes him feel like he matters. You’d made him realize how smart he is, how capable. That he could do things for himself and not just to please his dickhead father. 

You have made him whole. 

He lets up when you start breathing extra heavily, only to tickle the underside of your foot before he quits, just to piss you off. You kick him in the side. 

“I think a kiss from my very favorite person might be the best form of self-care there is, honey.”

You sit up. “Wow. King Steve really never died.” He raises his hands like he might tickle you again, but you catch them before he can do any damage. “Okay, sorry!” 

Before he can register it, you’ve leaned in and pressed your lips to his. When he does realize, he lets out a surprised hum, and you can feel that smartass smirk forming on his face. 

When you pull away, he whines. 

“All better?”

Steve falls back against the couch, pulling you with him just to get that laugh out of you again. 

“I’m healed.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[wheeboo]

paging dr. heartthrob | lee chan {TEASER}

SYNOPSIS. You can’t afford to be burnt out, especially during a crucial era of your life: being in medical school. Enter your best friend—a boy with a tough-looking exterior, a skateboard that’s seen better days, and a heart softer than his beat-up converse—Lee Chan, with his backpack full of snacks, and an uncanny ability to show up exactly when you need him most. He may not be a doctor, nor exactly your therapist, but he certainly is a heartthrob, and your heart can’t help but always page him. PAIRING. skater boy!lee chan x med student!reader (ft. lowkey stoner!vernon, med student!jeonghan, med student!joshua, soonyoung) GENRE. fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, angst, suggestive, hurt/comfort, college au WARNINGS (FOR THE TEASER). swearing, vaping and mention of weed, just silly banter between two "best friends" <3 WARNINGS (FOR FULL FIC). swearing, food and drinking mentions, suggestive, drug use (weed & vaping), so much fucking mutual pining!!!, reader is quite literally me so self-indulgent maybe?, reader is an overthinking anxious burnt-out mess :((, chan has a mullet, piercings, and tattoos yes (re: cough attacca dino cough), chan is a self-critical perfectionist oof, vague descriptions of minor injuries, mental health topics, medical terminology language, a scene of a panic attack WORD COUNT (FOR THE TEASER). 1.3k WORD COUNT (FOR FULL FIC). approx 20-25k

notes: hello, my little flowers! this is my teaser for the @camandemstudios "the lonely heart's cafe" collab <3. I'VE BEEN BLESSED TO FINALLY WRITE FOR LEE CHAN‼️if you would like to be tagged when this fic comes out, please send an ask or comment down below! sign up for the taglist for the entire collab here! please send all your love to the other authors who are participating in this as well !!

“You’re late,” he calls out, kicking the skateboard up into his hands and jogging over to meet you.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Blame my neuro attending. That man has the stamina of a marathon runner and the patience of a saint. Could rival Derek Shepherd, to be honest. I think I aged ten years today.” You set your bag down on the floor next to a nearby bench. “You didn’t wait long, did you?”

“Nah, not that long. You actually came before Vernon𑁋he left his vape here,” Chan says while fishing the vape out of his pocket and taking a shameless hit from it, a cloud of vapour floating into the air when he exhales, before offering it to you with a teasing grin. “Want a hit?”

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head with a laugh. “Offering me, a med student, that shit is crazy. My lungs are precious thank you, unlike you and Vernon.”

“Tell that to those bozos.” He points to the noisy teenagers at the other side of the park, before sitting right next to you on the bench. “Can’t even roll over there without getting smacked in the face with weed.”

Your smile falters just slightly as you watch him lean back, his face tilting towards the darkening sky. The dim light of the streetlamps catches on the curve of his jaw, the slope of his nose, the relaxed purse of his lips, and highlights the dragon tattoo that snakes up his arm. He looks... peaceful. Content. Like the world isn’t asking too much from him tonight, like there’s no weight of expectations pressing on his shoulders, unlike you.

“I messed up today during clinicals,” You randomly confess, making Chan turn toward you. “There was this patient today… a girl. Seventeen years old, has a tumour that’s basically about to split her brain in half. I kept arguing with my attending about treatments, and I was so sure I was right𑁋that we could do something more about it𑁋but in the end, I just... made it worse. I felt like such an idiot, because… because there wasn’t anything we could do. She only has one chance with surgery, and she took it, despite her low chances of surviving.”

Chan listens to you, his eyes gentle and thoughtful, understanding but not pitying. It’s the same way he used to listen when you were venting back in high school, always patient, never rushing you to fix yourself or your emotions.

“You’re not an idiot,” he tells you, but his tone is nothing like a scold. “You care. That’s the difference. Not everyone would have fought that hard for her, even if you didn’t win. You’ve got a heart the size of the ocean, dude, you know?” 

You smile faintly, chest tightening a little to his words. “The mother-fucking ocean?”

Chan grins at your lightheartedness, nudging you with his elbow. “Yeah, the mother-fucking ocean. You’re stubborn as hell, but you’ve got that heart. And that’s what makes you good at what you do. It’s what makes you you.”

You look down almost in guilt from his words, watching as you unconsciously play with your fingers in your lap. You don’t know why, but it hits harder than usual tonight, and for the briefest moment, you feel the rush of everything you’ve been holding back𑁋the exhaustion, the frustration, the feeling that you’ve been carrying more than your fair share of weight these days. They almost threaten to burst out of you, but right now, they don’t. Not yet at least.

“You’re gonna be a good doctor, you know?” Chan continues. “I don’t even have to be a doctor to know that. You just… you get it. You’re going to go out there and do great things. Maybe even better things than me.”

You almost want to laugh at that, almost want to tell Chan just how much shit he’s done that is far greater than what you could ever dream of. You’re not sure if he realises it himself𑁋how great he is, how much you admire him, love him𑁋but you think you could spend more than a lifetime telling him just that if you could. 

You feel your heart do that familiar flip again, but this time, you let it pass. Maybe you’ve been avoiding these feelings for too long, but the truth is, they’ve been there for as long as you can remember. You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment these feelings shifted from friendship to something more𑁋maybe it was when he helped you get through the first few years of high school, or when he held your hand during a school dance, not in some romantic gesture but because you were scared of your anxiety acting up𑁋but it’s always been there. He’s always been there. 

“I… Thank you, Chan,” You say softly. Then you tilt your head back, looking at the same sky he is, feeling the heaviness in your chest ease just a little. “You’re kind of annoying, you know that? But you’re also... you’re really great yourself. Like, better-than-I-deserve great.”

Chan just chuckles at that. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his head slightly to look at you. “That’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, and I’ve heard a lot of dumb shit from you.”

“Wow, okay. Forget all that I said then,” You retort back playfully, shaking your head and crossing your arms together. “You’re the worst person alive, actually.”

When you’re busy gazing up at the sky above, Chan turns to you. His eyes flit over you, taking in the way your eyelashes slowly bat together from tiredness, how your lips are slightly curled up in relaxation, how your features glow from the singular street lamp illuminating the skate park. He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and glances away, his thoughts racing faster than he can keep up with.

“You meant it though, right?” he asks.

“What?” You question, turning towards him. 

“About me being great or whatever.” You can tell he’s trying to brush off the hesitation, but you sense the uncertainty in his voice. “You meant it?”

Out of all times, you wonder why he’s questioning it right now at almost midnight in the middle of the skate park. You’ve told him countless times how great he is, always hyping him up for skate competitions and giving him comfort on the times he’s down himself. Why… is he suddenly asking if you meant it?

“Well, I… Of course, I meant it,” You respond, catching his eye. “Why wouldn’t I?”

For a few moments, there’s just silence, comfortable, a pinch of awkward𑁋a word you can pretty much never associate with your interactions together𑁋yet heavy. The way Chan’s features soften on his face from your words seem more important than the stars blinking up in the sky right now. 

Then all it takes is a tiny giggle from him, and you can’t help but groan.

“Oh no,” You grumble pesteringly, shooting him an exasperated glance, but your tone is light, teasing. “I fueled your ego now, didn’t I?” 

“Yep. I can walk around like I’m the best thing since sliced bread,” Chan jokes, puffing out his chest with pride. “My greatness has been confirmed by a certified medical professional.”

“Whatever, big head,” You sneer back playfully. 

Chan stretches out a bit more on the bench, his legs extending and his arms behind his head. You can tell he’s getting more comfortable too, probably ready to call it a night, just like you, and you can’t help but let yourself soften a little.

Without thinking, you shift your body and lean your head down and gently rest it in Chan’s lap. His body stiffens for a moment as if he wasn’t expecting it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets you settle, and after a beat, his hand comes to gently rest in your hair, and something tugs at your heartstrings from the feeling. Your eyes slowly flutter to a close.

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[berryispunk]

Insomniacs

pairing: Frankie Morales x f! reader

tags: friends to lovers, insomnia, mental health struggles (ptsd, depression), soft! Frankie, kissing, yearning, swearing, nicknames (hermosa), fluff, idiots in love, no smut, no physical description of reader apart from having hair

summary:  What if you can’t sleep and you call for your best friend to come over and suddenly everything changes ?

word count: 3,1 k

It’s nothing new that you can’t sleep. Dealing with various mental health stuff over the years and chronic pain on top, you should know better. 

You tried every sleeping aid under the sun; meditation, counting sheep, lavender on your pillow and melatonin. Nothing worked, so you started to build your life around it. Midnights became your afternoons to quote Taylor Swift. 

But you were creative, somehow still holding up the hope that it magically gets better or you’ll just get used to it. But it never happened. 

So tonight as the red numbers of your digital alarm clock illuminate your face, mocking you once again, you groan in frustration. You stare at the ceiling, watching the various colored lights of the cityscape dancing around and if you weren’t so damn defeated you would be able to find beauty in this, but you can’t. Not today. You reach for your phone charging on your nightstand and scroll mindlessly through social media. Minutes turn into an hour and you finally sit up in your bed, opening your messages app. It’s 2:30 a.m., who could possibly be awake at this hour? Your international friends? Yeah, for sure. But as you go through your various contacts you stop at one name, smiling to yourself as you press the call button. 

It takes three rings until a familiar deep voice fills your ears. 

“Hello?” the voice murmurs and you immediately feel guilty because you didn’t expect him to have been asleep. His voice sounds exhausted.

“Oh my god. Sorry Frankie, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you apologize and he chuckles softly at the other end. 

“‘s alright, wasn’t really sleeping just… dozing off. What’s up, hermosa? It’s….” he pauses shortly. “It's, fuck, 2:32 at night. What is going on? Are you alright?” The worry in his voice is palpable and it’s one of the things you admire about him.

“Yeah, it’s the same old insomnia again and I figured why not call the one person that gets my pain?” you say apologetically and you can practically hear his smirk. 

“Us good old insomniacs, huh? Is it your brain or the pain this time?” he asks and you sigh heavily in response. 

“Probably a mix of both…” you sink deeper into your cushion. 

Frankie might be the only person you ever met who understands the struggles that come with lack of sleep. His military background and the resulting nightmares made him an ally in the cruel game that called itself life. The two of you spent countless nights like this, on the phone or texting, watching nonsense over whatever TV channel was on but you’ve never done one thing: late-night meetings. 

You weren’t sure if it was a secret agreement the both of you made that late night meetings were off-limits in all the time you’ve known each other, but tonight something felt different. 

“Hey Frankie?”

“Hm?”

“Why have we never met? At night, when we weren’t able to sleep… I mean, you only live on the other side of the city, not the world.”

The other end stays silent and you think you may have overstepped an up-to-now invisible line by asking. 

Then he clears his throat. “Would you want me to come over? You never asked and I never did, because no way in hell I let you wander alone through the night…” he clarifies and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Of course, ever the gentleman Frankie Morales did not want to risk your safety. 

“Well, what if I’d ask you to come over now?” You hear him swallowing heavily at the other end of line. 

You don’t even know why you’re wanting this all of a sudden, maybe you’ve finally lost your mind. It’s not like there isn’t some underlying tension between the two of you anyway. Mindless flirting and playful teasing is all part of your friendship. 

Frankie is way too trusting for his own good, getting screwed up by his lack of judgement concerning other people and his soft heart, even if he would never let the boys know. They would give him hell about it. But around you he’s let his guard down and you have deep conversations with him about all things going wrong and the few that haven't. He’s one of the few people who know about your troubled youth and strained relationship with your mother. You in turn are one of the few people that know the severity of his PTSD. 

He makes you feel heard like no guy has ever managed to do. He really looks at you when you’re talking and it always makes you feel giddy when he remembers little things you told him a while back. 

You like his attentive nature, but somehow you have never found yourself thinking of him as a potential partner, even if he’s awfully attractive with his broad shoulders and unruly dark curls. His million-watt smile that, if it’s honest, creates little wrinkles around his eyes and makes your own smile widen every damn time in return.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice strained and uncertain. 

“I am,” you say boldly even if you feel anything but.

Fuckin hell, why does your heart beat so fast? 

“Give me 20 minutes,” is the last thing you hear before the line goes dead. 

You immediately jump up from your bed and panic takes over. What were you thinking? What do you even expect to happen when he’s here? Or worse, what if he expects something to happen? No, he would never. It’s Frankie after all, he would’ve had plenty of chances to make approaches but he never has, always keeping a respectful distance. And now you wonder if he only kept it because you made it seem like you weren’t interested in more than a friendship? 

When you first met him, you actually had a little crush on him but held yourself back because you told yourself he was out of your league and he was in a relationship. Then they broke up, but he was in a new one only a few weeks later. It went on like that for a long time until you were taken. Your ex never liked the boys so you kept your distance and the estrangement grew until you broke up with the guy and picked up your friendships where you left off. 

It’s always been so easy to be with Frankie. You could be yourself around him, no need to pretend to be someone you’re not. He saw you in every state: drunk, crying, bed head and pajamas or all dolled-up for another unfulfilling date. He still looked at you the same and it gave you some sort of confidence you’re usually unable to muster. So right now you don’t even think about changing. You stay in your sleep shirt and shorts, no underwear whatsoever, because it doesn’t matter anyway. The only thing you do is brush your teeth and open the messy bun your hair has been in, making it fall loosely over your shoulders.

For a moment you wonder whether he wants anything specific to drink, but as you check your fridge you see that you have plenty of soda and beer - both beverages you know he enjoys. So you sit down on the sofa, only the soft dim light of the standing lamp in the corner illuminating the room and you grow nervous again. Why, you can’t tell. This isn’t different from all the other times you’ve met him, the only difference being it’s late at night. But then you remember the saying ‘nothing good happens after 2 am’ and you get restless all over again until a soft knock on the door announces his arrival. 

With a few quick steps you open the door, but only a crack and Frankie looks at you, tired brown eyes mustering you. He’s smiling as per usual and holds up a plastic bag. “I brought the pretzels you like so much.” 

You open the door all the way to let him in. He’s wearing grey sweatpants, the standard oil cap which has to be glued to his head at this point, and one of his worn-down band shirts. Sometimes you “borrow” one of them when he doesn’t notice. You’re actually wearing one right now. 

“Hi,” you grin as he places the plastic bag on the coffee table. 

“Hi yourself,” he grins back and his eyes wander over your figure for a moment as his smirk widens. “Is that my shirt?” he asks, one eyebrow raised questioningly. 

“Maybe,” you tease back, mirroring his smirk. “You want it back?” 

He shakes his head, lifting his signature cap to run a hand through his curls before he puts it back on. “Nah, looks better on you anyway,” he says and somehow it makes your cheeks turn a bit warmer.

“You want something to drink?” you ask, clearing your throat. 

“Yeah, a beer maybe? But please tell me you’ve got more than the muck from the gas station? Because that tastes like piss,” he complains and you laugh as you walk over to your kitchen, opening the fridge. 

“Well, good for you I have actual beer, some Corona even if you’re feeling fancy.”

“Oh, I feel very fancy, hermosa,” he laughs and leans over the kitchen countertop as you reach for the beer. You feel his gaze on your backside, but decide to say nothing. 

You place the beer on the counter, a soda in your hand, and the noise of it opening echoes loudly through the apartment. He opens his beer with a lighter before he takes the first sip. 

It’s quiet for a moment before you ask, “How’s that girl you were talking about last week? Cindy or what’s her name?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “You’re asking me about my dating life?” 

You frown, tilting the soda can in your hand before answering “Guess so.” 

“Didn’t see her again,” he simply states and something blooms inside of you. Is it relief?

“Ah, okay…” you say, trying not to let your emotions show too much. 

“And… you? How’s that guy you told me about? Jack?”

“Jacob,” you correct, not that it would matter. You met him once and it’s clear that he’s still very much in love with his ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah, Jacob, sorry,” he mumbles, rubbing his neck sheepishly. “How is he?”

“Guess he’s fine…I wouldn’t know, as I only went on a date with him once.”

“Oh.” “Oh?” you scoff and he chimes in with a chuckle. 

“Yeah, what else should I say? He didn’t seem like a good match for you.”

“You know, you never said that about any of the guys I dated.”

“They were all losers.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What?”

“Shit, I‘m sorry…” he babbles but your eyebrows are furrowed.

“So tell me who’s a good match for me then?” You glare at him. It’s infuriating that he even thinks he’s allowed to judge you when he clearly isn’t better with all the girls he’s dated in the past. 

“Someone who really cares for you and sees you for who you are. Someone who treats you right and would do anything to make you happy, you know…” He’s fiddling with the label on the beer bottle. You just watch him, too stunned to speak as his words strike a chord. You know he’s right and that makes it hurt even more. 

“Maybe I’m just not made for a relationship,” you sigh as you take another sip of your soda, mimicking his stance by leaning across from him against the counter. 

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” 

“So what? You’re gonna tell me that there’s someone for me whom I just haven't met yet? That I didn’t search long or hard enough? I am 28, Frankie. I am tired of being in the dating pool. I just want… “ you exhale defeatedly. “I just want someone to come home to and who’s as happy to see me as I am to see him.”

“I am happy to see you,” he says quietly and it makes your heart miss a beat. 

“Yeah, but that’s not the same and you know it.”

“Why not?” he asks back, your eyebrows shooting up as he finally looks up from the bottle in his hand and places it onto the next available surface. “You’re a smart girl, hermosa. Don’t tell me you don’t know?” There’s indignation in his voice.

“Don’t know what?”

With one big step he closes the distance between you, standing so close to you you can clearly smell the last bit of his perfume he’s probably worn during the day and most of all you can smell him. The earthiness, musk and warmth are weirdly comforting as he looks down at you. 

“Do I have to spell it out for you or can you feel it as well?” he murmurs when you finally have the courage to meet his gaze, his eyes dark and searching. 

“Frankie, I–”

Suddenly he’s so close, so all-consuming it makes it hard to think. 

“Tell me you don’t feel it and I stop,” he whispers. You feel his breath on your face and the warm feeling inside your chest spreads further. 

Of course you’ve felt that way before, but you didn’t think too much about it, not wanting to risk this friendship that's so important to you. 

“I won’t,” you croak out and he smirks in response, the cocky smile he always has when he is certain about something. 

“Figured,” he continues before adding, “So tell me, how many of these dickheads do you want to date until you give the one guy a chance that really cares about you?” 

“But.. We are…”

“Friends? Yeah, and I want to be so much more than that to you. Do you really think I would drive through the city at this ungodly hour for just anyone?”

You search for his eyes again, slightly blushing and shaking your head. 

He starts playing with a lock of hair, curling it around his thick fingers which makes you incredibly nervous.

“I woke you up, didn’t I? And now you stand here at 3 in the morning… I feel horrible.”

“Well, I don’t. I’m glad you invited me over. Who needs sleep if I can be with you instead?”

You smile at that. 

“I’m still sorry.”

“No need,” he assures you. “There’s no place I’d rather be right now…” 

And his voice drips with honesty as his eyes lock with yours and the intensity of his gaze paired with his words make your breath hitch. Your eyes flick onto his plush lips which look so much more kissable up close and you bite your own lips. He mirrors the movement and suddenly his big hand rests on your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheek bone as he pulls you a tiny bit closer. You reach for his cheek in return, his patchy stubble tickling your hand and you part your lips as he takes the cue, dips his head and his lips are only a hair's breadth away from yours. 

“Can I kiss you now?” he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you just nod in agreement.

His lips capture yours in a soft, tentative kiss and your stomach does somersaults. You’ve wondered in the past what kissing him would feel like, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He knows exactly what he’s doing, his lips moving with purpose without being overbearing. The softness of his lips is a stark contrast to the slight scratch of his stubble against your skin. You practically melt into the kiss and you’re certain that no one has ever kissed you like this, so soft but purposefully determined it makes your head spin.

You tangle your hands in the soft locks on the ape of his neck as you deepen the kiss. He’s parting his lips voluntarily so you can invade his mouth with your tongue as his hand wanders from your cheek into your hair, cradling the back of your head. He presses you against the counter with his body weight as his other hand wanders to your hip, his fingers digging into the tender flesh under his shirt. As your tongues dance feverishly his breathing gets uneven, panting into the kiss and you can’t help but smile softly that he gets so worked up over a kiss. 

“You okay?” you whisper as you part to breathe, your foreheads touching. 

“Yeah,” he breathes “It’s just.. Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long so I wanna get this right.”

You take his head between your hands, your thumbs stroking his cheeks now. 

“You’re doing everything right, Frankie,” you smile softly and his face lights up.

“Can I maybe take you out on a date first before I ravish you right here in your kitchen?”

You can’t help but laugh at that, an honest laugh not many people are able to elicit from you. 

“I’d love that,” you say softly and nuzzle your nose against his while his thumb draws small circles over your hip where your shirt rode up. 

Suddenly the tiredness comes back to you as you yawn heavily and he creates some distance to be able to look at you. 

“Do I bore you, hermosa?” “No!” you quickly protest. “But I’m tired all of a sudden…”

“No shit, it’s late. Let’s get you into bed, yeah?” 

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom where you fall headfirst into the pillow with a groan. 

“Frankie?” you call for him, lifting your head up slightly, his name suddenly sounding so big in the quietness of the night. 

“Yeah?” you hear faint footsteps as if he’s about to leave and the thought makes you sad.

“Would you mind staying?”

It’s deadly quiet for a moment before you hear the rustling of sheets and his weight next to you on the mattress. “Not at all,” he murmurs softly and you scoot closer to him, cuddling into his side as he puts his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting against your head. It feels so natural. It feels like coming home. You yawn and close your eyes again. 

“Thank you,” you murmur softly as your hand rests on his chest. 

“Anytime,” he says and then adds, “And just for the record, her name was Clara.”

“What?” 

“The girl I was on a date with, her name was Clara not Cindy. Not that it’d matter anyway because the only person I go on dates with from now on will be you,” he chuckles softly and you grin widely, even if he can’t see it. 

“Good to know,” you say sleepily and for the first time in weeks you drift off into a deep, restful sleep.

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[roseareeh]

I totally understand you I have been dealing with my depression this is and isn't good.

I hope you feel better soon.

I have few ideas for Eddie, feel free to ignore, and please don't put pressure on yourself to write your mental health is more important.

• Maybe they are best friends and ended up sleeping together and the reader got pregnant

• Or maybe Eddie is dating Dustin's older sister, and she got pregnant.

Like I said feel free to ignore.

And take care of yourself ❤️ you're a amazing person 😘

Teen Pregnancy Series | Eddie Munson x Henderson! Reader

Notes: This took me a bit longer than expected, but your request helped a lot! I combined them a bit, I hope you enjoy!

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of abortion, some medical stuff at the end but no blood, pregnancy

"Dustin, get out!", you screamed as your brother burst through the bathroom door. This wouldn't have been this terrible if it wasn't for one crucial fact;

The pregnancy test in your hand.

"(Y/N), what the fuck are you doing?!", he yelled back as you shoved him out and slammed the door shut. "Shut up!", you yelled through the door as he kept knocking. After locking the door, you finally got to take a good look at the test result: Positive. Fuck.

"(Y/N), please, I really need to pee! I won't tell mom!" The test slipped in the pocket of your sweatpants before opening the door and rushing into your room. As you sat on the bed and starred at the two lines, tears started streaming down your face. How could this happen? You were always careful.

And the worst part is, Eddie is the father. Your brothers role model.

The friendship between Eddie and you was no less than extremely physical. Every time you two hung out, which must've been at least three times a week, you two ended up sleeping together.

And how would you tell him? Eddie was your friend, he was been since you were a freshman and he was a sophomore, and you knew that he tends to freak out easily.

But the very worst part was that you started developing feelings for him a few months ago. Sleeping with him didn't exactly help with that, but you'd rather keep it as it is than loose him completely.

"(Y/N)?", your little brother said from behind your door. "Go away.", you replied while trying to cover your shaky voice. It didn't work. "(Y/N), come on. I know what's going on, you know I'm smart." And of course Dustin wouldn't back down either. With a sigh, you got up and opened the door to your room. "What?", you asked. Your brother walked in without asking and sat down on your bed. "Dustin, this isn't a therapy session, I'm just really-"

"Pregnant?", he said to finish your sentence. "I know what that looks like, don't try to lie." Why would he know that? "Are you okay?"

You closed the bedroom door and sat down next to him. "I'll be fine, Dusty. Don't worry." He picked up the pregnancy test from where you left it and looked at it again. "Are you keeping it?", Dustin continued. "Jesus, you always ask so many question.", you groaned as you laid down on your back. Your little brother did the same, so now both of you were watching your slightly flickering lamp.

"You know who's the dad?", he asked again after a bit. However, you remained quiet. "(Y/N), this is your brother. Who's the father, do you copy?", Dustin continued. "Dustin, this is your older sister. It doesn't matter, over.", you finally replied, to which he groaned and rolled onto his stomach. "Do you not know?!", your brother asked dramatically. "Do you really think that low of me?", you asked. "I know, but it's none of your business."

"I'm that babies uncle, I think it's all of my business."

"Dustin, get out.", you said in a stern tone. He knew better than to keep asking, so he got up and left.

"Love you, (Y/N).", your little brother said before leaving the room.

"Love you, too, Dustin.", you replied.

"With Eddie Munson!? What were you thinking!?", your mother yelled at you. Now that you had a sonogram and knew how far along you were the conversation with your mum was inevitable at this point. "It's not like I planned it...", you mumbled under tears. "Damn right you didn't! How can such a smart girl make such a dumb mistake!?", she continued screaming. Neither of you knew that Dustin was listening from the top of the stairwell. "Mom, please stop...", you whimpered, still crying. Eddie still didn't know about the life growing inside you, and you honestly didn't want to. How would he react? He's been held back twice and sells drugs for extra money. As much as you didn't want to admit it, he isn't exactly father material. "Do you really expect him to be a good and reliable father?", she asked. While her tone was still loud, at least the screaming stopped. "I don't know..." Your mother sat down next to you while you replied in a mumbled tone. "Well, when you get an abortion, I don't mind paying part of it.", she said. You looked at her with a look of disbelief. "When I get an abortion?", you asked.

"Do you actually want to keep it?", she asked.

"Yes mom, I'm keeping it."

As she took a breath in to reply, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it.", you mumbled while getting up and walking away from the kitchen table. Behind the door stood Eddie with a slightly worried look. "Hey.", he said. "Your, uh, coworker said you're sick so I got you ginger ale." Eddie handed you the white plastic bag he held in his hand. "Thanks.", you replied with a small smile as you took the bag from his hand.

"Is that Eddie?", your mother asked as she walked up from behind. "Mom, not now.", you said while looking over your shoulder. "Oh no, by all means. I'd really like some answers!" She huddled him in, while he just looked confused. "Mom, stop-", you continued, but she didn't stop. "How do you plan on caring for a child?!" was the only thing she said before you finally raised your voice. "I haven't told him!", you yelled at your mom. The whole room fell silent, with Eddie looking back and forth between you and your mother. You could clearly see how he pieced together the two sentences that have just been said.

"You're pregnant?", he finally asked. You nodded reluctantly. Finally, your mother read the room and left you two alone.

"I'm at four weeks.", you told him. The silence in the room was oddly loud as both of you just looked at each other.

"So...what are you gonna do?", he finally asked. Your hand went on your stomach instinctively, which was what confirmed your initial decision. "I'm keeping it. And there's nothing that can make me change my mind." A small smile played on his lips before he took your free hand in his. "Good. There's...nobody I'd rather have an unplanned child with." You raised an eyebrow at his words. "One might say you're flirting with me, Mr. Munson." He laughed a bit at your words. "Maybe I am.", he replied.

"Come on, let's talk upstairs.", you said as you walked him in. Truth be told, this was the first time you had him in your room. "Leave the door open!", your mother yelled from the living room.

"He can't get me double-pregnant!", you yelled back.

"I think it's a boy.", you said while braiding small strands of Eddies hair. He had his head on your chest and one hand on your stomach while both of you laid in your bed. It made you wonder; friends don't lay together like this. Not even if they have benefits. "You know I won't care what it is, but I really want a girl." You smiled a bit at his wish while imagining him with a little mini-him. Eddie moved his head so he was looking up at you, with which he ruined the tiny braid you were working on. "I haven't asked you to...well, uh..." You smiled, hoping he was going to ask you what you so desperately wanted to hear. "You put a baby in me, I don't think there's any uncomfortable questions." He laughed a bit before sitting upright, and you did the same. Luckily, there was barely a bump yet that could get in your way. "Well, I really like spending time with you. A lot, actually. And I had feelings for you for a while before, well, all this." A small laugh left your mouth. "I'm not good at this, don't laugh!", Eddie complained.

"I'm laughing because I feel the same and didn't know how to tell you.", you admitted. Now he smiled while pulling you into a hug. "Good. Because anything else would've made this awkward." You snuggled into his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. His body was so warm, so comforting that you can see yourself like this every night for the rest of your life. "I got a 2-in-1 deal then, huh?", you joked after a bit while looking up. Eddie, however, looked a bit confused. "A boyfriend and a baby at the same time.", you added. A stiffled laugh left his mouth. "You're corny, (Y/N).", he said while laying back again with you in his arms.

"It's only getting worse from here.", you replied.

"So, everything looks fine for 12 weeks.", your OBGYN said as she looked at the ultrasound. Eddie was sitting next to you, closely looking at the screen that showed your baby. "Oh...wait...", she then said. Both you and Eddie shared a look before you spoke up: "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, but it looks like there's two babies."

Your eyes went wide while trying to see another baby on the screen. But there it was, very visible next to their sibling. "We're having twins?", Eddie asked, just to be sure. "Yes, I can definetly tell you that. See, there's baby one." She pointed at the first baby. "And there's baby two." Then at the other.

Both if you were quiet until you got into his van. But your boyfriend kept looking at the sonogram he held tightly between two fingers. "Twins, huh.", he finally said after shutting the cardoor behind him. "That's a curveball." You looked over at him with a worried look, but he was grinning. "Two babies at the same time, with my girlfriend? That's more than I could've ever asked for." The grin on his face was wide, more than you ever expected. Your hand found his, but his gaze never left the sonogram. "What if you get your boy and I get my girl?" You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "I bet we will."

"If we have a girl, can we name her Lizzie?" He finally looked at you with sparkling eyes. "Why Lizzie?", you asked. It was then that Eddie realized that he never really told you about his family or his upbringing. "My mother, well...her name was Elizabeth. My father always called her Liz. I'll tell you more when we're home, but I thought maybe Lizzie would be a good name to memorise her." You ran your thumb over the back of his hand while listening to his explanation.

"Lizzie is a beautiful name.", you said. "Maybe, if we have a boy, we can name him Wayne?"

Eddie leaned over to kiss you. "You're even more perfect than I could've ever imagined."

"Steve, really, I can handle it.", you said while carrying three movies in your hands. Ever since your coworker Steve found out that you were pregnant, he was extremely careful around you. "Tell me if you need help.", he said watching you walk around the aisles of the video store. "I even got a little shelf to hold them, don't worry." In an attempt to make him laugh, you balanced the boxes on your 22-week pregnancy belly. "Now that's an advantage.", Robin commented with a laugh. She leaned against the shelf right next to you. "So, you got the genders yet?"

"Not yet. They just won't lay right." She laughed a bit at your words. "Still can't believe you're gonna be a mom.", Robin said with a small smile. The moment was ruined with Steve starting to talk. "And with Eddie Munson out of all people." Both you and Robin looked over at him from behind the shelves. "Choose your next words wisely, he's still my boyfriend." You put away the last VHS box before walking back to the counter. While you logged the movies in the computer as returned, Steve stood next to you. "I'm just saying, it's a bit surprising." Robin joined the both of you behind the counter while pulling up a stool for you to sit on. You thanked her before sitting down. "I think Steve is hitting on you.", she joked with her signature grin. He put his hands on his hips and raised an eyebrow. "Why would date someone who's pregnant?"

"So you wouldn't date moms?", you teased.

"What? No, I mean- You're in a relationship and pregnant, that's immoral."

"I think he doesn't want to date moms.", Robin whispered to you.

"I would date moms, just not (Y/N).", Steve continued to defend himself. Robin and you shared a look, knowing that he fell for your teasing again. "You're messing with me again, aren't you?" Robin and you started laughing at his realisation. He scoffed before going into the back, presumable to get more returned movies, while you kept typing on the computer.

You looked up once you heard the bell from the entrance door ring, which meant a customer walked in. Said customer was your boyfriend Eddie. "Hey there.", you said with a grin before kissing him on the lips. "How's my favourite girl?", he asked with a grin. "Better now.", you replied while walking around the counter. "Schools already over?"

"Yeah, the last two classes were cancelled because they couldn't find a sub. I was gonna ask you if we wanna have a movie night later so I can buy food for us." A wide grin spread on your face at his suggestion. "I'd like that very much. What movie?" Your boyfriend said his thoughts out loud. "You don't really like horror right now, so maybe we can agree on Scarface?" Robin walked up behind him to grab the movies Steve brought back out. "Isn't the first rule of having a pregnant girlfriend to do anything she wants?", she commented while walking by. Eddie looked at her a bit dumbfounded before looking back at you. "Lucky you, I like Scarface so it's fine." Your boyfriend held you by your hips while pulling you closer, although the bump was getting in the way. "Read my mind, didn't you?", he said with a grin. As he leaned in for a kiss, you could feel one of the babies kicking. They started doing that this week, and it was honestly still a bit weird. At the same time, you loved to feel the little lives growing inside of you. And when Eddie was close to you like this, he could feel them too. "I'm just glad they stopped kicking my bladder. Although their sibling might be planning that right now." Both of you laughed a bit before Eddie leaned in for another kiss. "Are they kicking?", Robin interrupted excitedly. You and your boyfriend broke the kiss to look at her. "You promised I could touch your belly if they do!", your friend and coworker continued. With a raised eyebrow, Eddie looked over at you. "I did promise that.", you confirmed before turning sideways from your boyfriend. There was a childlike look on Robins face when she felt the babies kick against your stomach. Meanwhile, Eddie watched the smile grow on your face, and he realized how lucky he was to have you. The pregnancy was everything else but planned, yet he has never felt as happy as he did now.

"With any luck, we'll find our the genders in two weeks.", you said, which pulled Eddie out of his train of thoughts. "Dustin keeps bugging me about it, more than them." You gave a small nod in the direction of Steve and Robin.

"Did they tell you?", Dustin immediately asked as you walked through the front door. He came out of nowhere and scared you a bit. "Fuckin' hell Dustin, you'll get me into early labour like that.", you said. Eddie was trotting behind you with an idiotic grin on his face. That's all Dustin needed to see to know that you finally found out. "Sorry.", he still said in a truly regretful tone. Dustin even helped you get out of your jacket and took your bag from you. "Alright. We're having one boy and one girl." The look of excitement on his face was unmatched. Barely anything ever made him as happy as what you just told him. "And in an added plottwist, you can go and look for something in my bag." He was still grinning like an idiot while looking through your bag. Between papers from your doctor, your sunglasses and lip balm, he found a trucker cap that read 'Favorite Uncle'. "No way!", he said loudly with a wide grin. "(Y/N), no way!", he continued. "Yes way, Dustin.", you said before he jumped into your arms for a big hug. "We know you'll be a great uncle." He was still grinning like a cheshire cat by the time he let you go and immediately switch the cap currently on his head for the new one.

The next few months were an absolute dream. Eddie was attentive and took the best care of you, despite still being in school. His grades got better, and as far as you knew he stopped dealing. While the living situation with a baby would be hard at your moms with Eddie there too, it didn't matter that much. He promised to get a job as soon as he graduated.

However, it all came crumbling down when the police knocked at your door one morning. "(Y/N) Henderson?", the officer asked. "That's me. Did something happen?" You saw what was going on in Hawkins on the TV just half an hour ago, and it made you worry. Dustin left right after, so your first thought was that something happened to him. "May we come in? It would be best to sit down for this." You let the two officers in and walked behind them, although even walking was hard for you now. The twins were at 35 weeks now, and you were about ready to pop any day. The three of you sat down at the dinner table while you felt the anxiety raise in you. "What's going on?", you asked them while trying to find a comfortable sitting position. "Your boyfriend is Edward Munson, correct?", the officer started. This made a cold shiver run down your spine. "Yeah, he is. Did something happen to him?"

"He is our main suspect in a murder case.", he simply stated. Unexpectedly, you started laughing. "Wow, that's just...that's peak comedy.", you said under laughter. "Eddie wouldn't hurt a fly, even though he acts like it." But neither one of the officers laughed, or even seemed to appreciate your laughter. "This isn't a joke, Ms. Henderson. We're currently looking for him and need you to tell us his location." This was actually unbelievable to you. "I don't know where he is. He told me he'll go to his uncles after school, and then never came back. I can't tell you more." They were quiet for a bit before speaking again. "Unfortunately, we have reason to believe what you could be possibly hiding him so we'll have to search your house." Once again, you laughed. "This isn't my house, it's my mother's. And I'm not letting you search anything without a warrant." They knew that it was no use to continue talking to you right now, so they left eventually. You still couldn't believe that Eddie was actually the main suspect in a murder case. He would never hurt anyone, especially not now that you could be giving birth any day.

Who else could know where he was?

"Oh god, Eddie!", you said as you fell into his arms. He was fine, but far away from safe. "Are you okay? And the babies?", he asked you while hugging you back. Usually, he was carefully since it was the end of your pregnancy. But right now he held onto you like you were his lifeline. "We're okay. Just scared." Your hands cupped his face before finally kissing him. Now, more than ever, it felt like home. "I swear, I didn't do anything, I promise.", Eddie said, close to tears. Your thumbs ran across his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him. "I know. We'll figure this out, you'll come home and then we can have the happy family we wanted. Okay?" He nodded at your words before hugging you again.

"How many fucking times, he wouldn't do that!", you yelled towards the other parents, including your own mother, while they argued about where the kids could be. "I know this is hard to believe in your circumstances, but-" You scoffed at your mother's words. "My circumstances? Really?", you said in a mocking tone. "I'm carrying your grandkids and you call that a circumstance. Mother of the fucking year." You leaned back on the couch you were sitting on while crossing your arms in front of your chest. "Is everyone here actually dumb enough to not realise how easy it is to break into someones trailer? It could've been anyone!" Most gave you a look of pity, possibly because they thought you were just a pregnant girl who didn't want to admit to her baby daddy's mistakes. "Honey, I get that you're upset but all signs are pointing to him. And now your brother is missing, too." You rolled your eyes already when Mrs. Wheeler called you Honey. "All of you are judgy assholes.", you said while getting up and wanting to leave. As you were grabbing your bag in the hallway, water trickled down your legs. "Oh no. No, no, no.", you said while looking down. Your water undoubtedly broke. "Mom!" She came into the hallway quickly, seeing the state you were in she didn't even need to ask questions. "I'll drive you to the hospital, come on.", she said. Mrs. Sinclair helped you get outside into your mother's car while she was looking for her keys in a hurry. "You'll be fine, it's gonna be okay.", she said in an attempt to calm you down.

You were going into labour, your brother was missing and your boyfriend was wanted for murder.

For weeks, you and your babies have sat besides Eddie's hospital bed. He was greatly injured during the earthquake and barely made it, causing him to fall into a coma. Nobody could tell you when or if he'd ever wake up from it, so there was nothing you could do besides staying by his side. Your twins, Lizzy and Wayne, were extremely calm when the three of you sat beside him. Whenever you were home with them, they couldn't stop crying. It's like they knew their father wasn't with them. "Please wake up...", you whispered while holding his hand. It was horrific to see him connected to so many tubes and machines. At least the police stopped claiming him as a suspect, since the kids said he wasn't there when they found the two other corpses. You don't know if they lied or not, but that really didn't matter right now. On a good note, your house wasn't destroyed during the earthquake. If anything, you could give your kids a roof over their head.

Weeks passed. The twins were eight weeks old when you got a call one morning. Eddie woke up again. Immediately, you packed up the twins and drove to the hospital. They kept crying until the very moment you opened the door to Eddies hospital room. He slowly turned his head and saw you with the stroller in front of you. His face looked sunken in, like he was awake for weeks on end. "Hey, it's (Y/N).", you said with a smile as you came in. Eddie still managed to give you a small smile. "I know my girlfriend.", he mumbled in a raspy voice. You pushed the stroller to his bed and parked it right next to him, giving him perfect view of your twins. They were the first people he took a proper look at before looking back at you. "They're perfect.", he mumbled. You smiled and pushed up a chair to sit down. "Dustin and I took many pictures for you, so you wouldn't miss anything." Lizzie was slowly waking up and opened her eyes, just to finally meet the opened eyes of her father. "Hey Liz, look who's here.", you cooed at her while picking her up. "I can feel my arms. Can I..." Without him needing to day anything further, you put her on his chest. "Don't overdo it. They're quite heavy.", you joked while watching him stroke her back with his hands. "She's a clunker.", he agreed. While he was holding your daughter, you stroked his hair carefully. "I missed you, honey.", you said in a hushed tone. He looked up at you with those eyes you missed so much. "I'm here now. I won't leave you like that again."

"Yeah, you better.", you giggled

"Why do they have to be so much like you?", you complained while crashing into your bed. It took both of you almost an hour to just get your 3-year olds ready for bed, putting them down took almost more than that. "God, I hope the next one comes after me." Eddie chuckled and pulled you close to him, putting his hand on your 6-month baby belly. It was the perfect angle to see his wedding ring in the dim bedroom lighting. "I think you're forgetting that they're Hendersons. Look at how your brother turned out." As much as you loved your brother, you didn't need a second one at home. "I just want one quiet one at least.", you mumbled sleepily. "Then we'll just make many more.", Eddie said with a sly grin. You chuckled a bit while cuddling up to him. "I'll have as many as we can with you.", you said before a soft knock interrupted the two if you. The twins stood in the doorway. "Can we sleep here?", Wayne whispered. "Sure, get in here.", Eddie said before helping both into your bed. As hyper as they are, both were calmest while cuddling with their parents. While Lizzie laid next to his father, Wayne was cuddled up to you and fell asleep again rather quickly. Lizzie snorred soon after as well.

"We have great kids.", Eddie said after a while. You hummed in agreement.

"They're pretty amazing."

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Next chapter

a/n lingered in my brain for a bit and now it's out here. Be gentle, it's my first time writing for this man. 😳🥺😭✨

warnings: fighting, kitchen accidents, swearing, mental health struggles.

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Fuck early Chicago mornings and the freezing temperatures that came with them. And add the people who promised bursts of sunshine and blue skies to the list. Fuck all of them and their predictions. Your grandma made better weather foretellings and landed straight on target with them.

You tightened your jacket closer to your body. Wrapping your hands around yourself. Well, the jacket wasn't yours. It was Carmy's, but you always preferred to wear his stuff. It soothed your anxiety. All the worries Made the early mornings more bearable. You don't remember the last time you two woke up in the same bed. You don't remember how the warmth of the morning, still wrapped up in the sheets, felt. Carmy would be off to the restaurant even before you. You tried to suggest that you just go together an hour or so later, but that only brought out a fight that left you two even further apart as it was. And it had gotten far away. You let his scent flow through your mind, chasing the nagging voice away. Yet already dreading the chaos of the day ahead.

Your phone starts ringing in your pocket. For a moment, you hesitated. Surely, it's too early for something serious to be going on. But then, don't all the scary things happen at the oddest hours? So you reach for it, frowning when you see Sugar's name lighting up the phone. You weren't close to Carmy's family. You had only met them briefly at the funeral. God, they didn't even know who you were. Nor did they care. Or maybe they cared too much.

"Hello", you said, clearing your throat right away. You hadn't spoken any words yet this morning, meaning the first hello sounded way too raspy. "Yeah, hi, it's early, isn't it", Sugar breathed, and you almost wanted to roll your eyes. Yet you couldn't bring yourself to it. Her voice sounded worried. "Did anything happen?", you trailed off. It's not like you two called each other out of the blue. You didn't just chat or go out for coffee. You didn't meet up for lunch or dinner. She had called you once, and it was only to ask if Carmy had wanted to keep any of Mikey's stuff. She was Natalie to you. Someone who might not even stop in the middle of the street to greet you.

"I've just been thinking about Carmy", she muttered quickly. You could hear her shuffling through some papers in the background. "What about him?", you said after a moment of silence. "Did you talk to him about the doctor I suggested? Maybe you two can even go together?", the words just spilled from her mouth, and you halted quickly, "You care for him, right? So take him". A light hint of anger picked up in your chest at that. They had all been pushing down on him. Do that. Do this. Carmy wasn't like them. He operated differently.

"Yeah, yeah, we spoke about it. He just doesn't want to do it now", you said calmly, changing the hand with which you'd been holding the phone so you could warm up your fingers in the jacket pocket. "He will never want to do it", Natalie grumbled back, "Did he even tell you about the times he couldn't breathe? Don't you notice that it's bad? It's scary". A chill ran down your spine. An image of Carmy holding onto his throat filled your brain. Hand gripping the sink as he gasped for air. Panicked eyes searched the room. Two am. Calling the ambulance. Crying in the bathroom before you even went to see him. Fuck, they knew about how scary it was, yet you only mumbled a quiet, "I know, yeah". A sigh leaves her mouth. "And you're not doing anything? He'll end up like...", but you pull your phone away from your ear, press the red button, and swallow quickly. You weren't going to think about it now. No. Not now. Not never. Carmy wasn't going to end up like this. He just wasn't.

You rounded the last corner, quickly pushing your key into the door before letting yourself in. The warmth of the restaurant soothed your cold skin. You thought about giving yourself a moment to compose yourself, but then you were already late. So you quickly undid the jacket. "Where's my fucking knife? Have you seen my knife?", Carmy's voice echoed through the space. You quickly dropped your stuff at the corner of his desk in the office before walking into the kitchen.

"Morning", you smiled up at everyone, and someone grumbled in return. The tension in the kitchen was already brutal. "Your cigarette is on the table, Tina", You turned her way, and she flashed you a smile. "Lord knows, I'll need a whole pack of them today". She had been the only one who hadn't thrown a fit about your being here. She wasn't flowing with joy, but it was by far the best way you've been greeted since moving back to Chicago with Carmy.

"Behind", Carmy shouted again, moving past the rest of the kitchen with a tray of meat in his hands. He didn't even glance your way. He wasn't someone to go lovely dovey in front of the others yet it stung. To your surprise, he turned your way. Eyes softened at the sight of you, and all of the nagging thoughts drained. "Hey", he muttered, reaching for your hand and squeezing it gently. "We prep, then the papers?", he asked, already bearing for the tray with vegetables. You quickly nodded before reaching for the knife yourself.

"They fucked the order? Why the hell do I care that they don't have my shit in stock", Carmy ran his hand through his hair in frustration, "I'll call them again; this is just...", "Why don't you take a break? Breathe for a moment", you said, lowering the order papers onto the desk. Eyes searching his. You've only been in the office for ten minutes, and all that time Carmy had been shouting. A frustrated sigh left his lips as he buried his face in his hands. You stepped closer, your fingers instantly reaching for his hair. Running your fingers through his curls, you let him do what felt best, and Carmen wasted no time in bringing his hands up to rest on your hips, his face buried in your stomach. He let out a frustrated growl, and then the place went silent.

"Talk to me. Say anything", his voice was barely a mutter, but you heard him perfectly. He did this often. Whenever the voices in his head got too loud, he would ask you to speak. Tell him whatever pops into your head. It didn't even have to make sense. He just needed to hear it. The smooth sound of your voice. "We ran out of milk, and I managed to put on a wash before I left", Your fingers dragged down his neck and shoulders. "We'll have clean sheets; can you believe it?", you chuckled softly. The apartment looked like shit if you were being honest, but then you spend so little time there these days.

"We can buy milk on our way back", Carmy said, pulling away slightly. "Yeah, we sure can", you hummed. Just as a knock made you both turn toward the door, A dark-skinned girl with big eyes stood there, looking at Carmy as if she had seen a holy spirit. "I... I... I want to help with the kitchen. To work, I mean", she stuttered, and you instantly turned to her fully. "We talked yesterday, didn't we?", You reached your hand towards her, and she shook it gently. "We sure can use a second set of hands", You smiled at her, yet her eyes didn't leave Carmy. "Sydney and... My resume", she handed the papers to Carmy, who flipped through them straight away.

In a perfect world with a perfect system, you would have loved to give her a rundown of the place. Unfortunately, this wasn't a normal place, nor was the situation normal. So Sydney was left to listen to the constant swearing and bickering of everyone else. It was half-decent until Richie showed up. Shouting at the top of his lungs about all that Carmy was doing wrong. And that fucking pasta of his. You gripped the knife tighter but stayed out of it. This wasn't a fight you wanted to be a part of.

"As if we need another know-it-all in the kitchen. Don't need that fancy shit,", he barked, glaring at the girl. Sydney's head was hung low, but she too said nothing. Doing her thing as she got ready for family. "We don't need this shit; it was fine till Carmy stepped in, fine till you showed up", Richie slurred, and the last straw snapped within you: "Get your head out of your ass and drop it", your glare met him, and you could feel the way all of the anger within him now ran directly to you. Boiled even more because of you.

"And who's talking? One more burden Carmen dragged from New York", he spat, stepping closer to you, no doubt trying to intimidate you, but you didn't back away. "We should have lost you at the airport", he said bitterly. "What will your art degree do for us? Want to paint walls, sweetie?". You were so glad that he had turned away from you after the words left his mouth because you were a moment away from...

"Jesus, Y/N.", Tina's voice made you blink a couple of times. You felt her finger on your palms, and your gaze followed her touch. The chopping board was covered in blood. You must have lost track of your movements and senses. Trying too hard to keep your composure. Or maybe Richie's words hurt worse than the cut palm. "Cover for me, Sydney", you muttered, pulling the towel from your shoulder and pressing it to the wound. "Don't you need...", she tried to interfere. "Just fucking cover for me, please".

Slamming the freezer door shut, you let your back hit the side shelf. God, you were glad Carmy wasn't here. That call from the butcher couldn't have come at a better time. Richie was your headache to carry. Adding that to Carmen's shoulders won't help. He had hated you from the moment you showed up. You always cared too much and too little in his eyes. You tried to reason with him. He was grieving too, but fuck was he an ass when he wanted to be. And he wanted to be most of the time. Angry tears ran down your cheeks. You were just so fucking tired. So tired of it all. Of the shouting. Of the worrying.

"We don't have time. Where the fuck is she? The vegetables won't cook themselves", Carmy's voice ran through the freezer. You pressed your fingers into your eyes, gritting your teeth for a moment before stepping out. "On them, chef", you called out, wrapping the bandage around your hand messily. As long as it stopped the blood, it would have to do. And Carmy was a split second away from shouting again until his eyes fell on your palm.

"What the fuck happened?", he asked, marching forward. Forgetting all the corners, behinds, and whatnot. "Nothing happened", you muttered, turning to Sydney, "I'll take it from here, thanks". But Carmy caught your wrist and said, "Like hell, you will; what the fuck happened?". You knew that this all was coming from a good place, but the tone of his voice didn't soothe you. "We have shit to do, chef", you said, waving your head out of his grip and turning your back to him.

You hoped he would just walk away. Just drop it. Let it be. Let it all sizzle out. "Learn to fucking hold a knife", he grunted, his hand came into contact with your injured palm as he pressed it firmly onto the handle, making you whine in pain. "Hold it for fuck sake", he barked again, only tightening his grip as if he was blind to the blood seeping through the bandage. "I fucking am", You ripped his hand away with your other hand, pushing at his chest to get him away from you.

"Stop being a crybaby and be useful for once", Carmy's words left you defenseless. Your body froze. Cold shivers running down your back. You surely didn't hear it right. Carmy threw the knife across the table and turned his back away from you. Was he about to walk away? Just like that. Like nothing happened. "Fuck you", you threw the same bloody towel his way, "If I'm so fucking useless, feel free to find someone else", Carmy halted in his steps, but he didn't turn around. Clapping filled your ears, and you found smug-looking Richie, beaming like the promised sun today, saying, "Should have been an actress". You bit the inside of your cheek. Quickly undo your apron before storming outside.

[captain039]

PART 4 He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, m violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

Previous part <-

My mind is just horny for Hugh Jackman it’s bad xD

The next day you wait till around dinner time to head to the bar, you put on a fancy dress and some low heels, throw on some makeup and sigh. You stare at your reflection poking your stomach, hips and waist, you had put on one of those slender shapewear things too. You rolled your eyes opened the bathroom door a little harshly and grabbed your small purse.

“Let’s go” you grumbled hating this plan already.

“Actually, no, why the hell am I here?” You turn making Logan almost run into you.

“Never been on a mission before?” He asks.

“No?” You say frowning and he falters.

“You’ve been itching to get out the school” he says.

“How do you know that?” You ask, you’d only just gone to speak with Jean about it when you walked in on them both in her lab.

“Because-“ he growls a little pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Stay here” he says moving out the way.

“No, you said to come, so I will go” his lips curls up showing the two fangs he has.

“Omega” he grumbles as you walk out the motel door and to the car.

You had thrown on some perfume to go over your dulled scent, like hell you could flirt your way into a secret fighting ring. Better off getting your ass caught and thrown in there. You stare out the window till you arrive. When you enter you already hate it, your whole body tenses and you feel eyes. You forced Logan to wait at least ten minutes before coming in. You sit in a small booth finding yourself ready to flee and your hands overly hot. Logan walks in, cigar in his mouth, leather jacket over his shoulders. You take a small breath as he heads over to the bar. You didn’t look at him properly when you left the motel, jeans, plain white shirt and a leather brown jacket with boots. He orders so naturally and you wish you took the keys for yourself. You know he’s appealing, the few other women in the bar getting an eye full. You don’t blame them but the heat dancing on your palm says otherwise.

“Can I get ya something doll?” A older woman asks.

“Just a smoothie?” You ask and she smiles and nods. It was a bar cross restaurant you think from the dining tables to one side with the register and small display of foods and the bar and pool table on the other side. Logan starts talking around, grabs a pool cue and joins the game. You were truely going to hell for your thoughts as he bent over the table and striked the ball. The waitress comes with your juice and you thank her. You relax a bit, nobody’s on this side of the restaurant, the smoothie is nice and cold too though your head feels a little funny. You look out the window to the dusty car park figuring Logan could handle majority of this mission. You sigh a bit glancing back to Logan seeing a brunette woman by his side. She’s gorgeous, slim waist and body, nice sized boobs and ass, the dress complimenting her every curve and just the right amount of makeup on her face. She’s faking not knowing how to play, or she genuinely doesn’t know how to play as Logan shows her. He doesn’t do the whole get behind her thing and lean with her though, which makes her disappointed even if she gets one of the pool balls in the shoot.

Logan hates himself, he hadn’t realised you had never been on a mission and Charles sure as hell didn’t ask you and him to go. It was supposed to be Jean and him, but when you walked in shoulders tense and looking ready to burst again he decided you and him needed to get out. You’re quiet the whole ride, awkwardly trying to act normal as he forces himself not to smile at it. You don’t know how to act around him, he doesn’t blame you, he’s always been a cold hard bastard. When you have a shower he stares at the door wondering if you’d let him join you, he wants to fell your body so bad, feel those thighs around his head, sink his teeth into your flesh while you moan his name. He’s worked up even more now he swears, you’re too shy and kind for someone like him. Once the shower stops he sighs a little missing his opportunity, he frowns though when you take a long time in there and your anxiety peeks. It’s like he’s in tune with you and he gets up and knocks. Your response has him on edge and opening the door without permission. Seeing you in a towel, flushed and fresh out the shower has his dick hardening. Fuck he wants to smell you, breathe in that sweet scent he knows you have. He sees the syringes in the counter though and his face turns hard. It looks like something Hank cooked up which probably means it’s for your mutation. He gets snappy for no reason and growls when he does leaving you confused. He smokes even though it does nothing before going back inside and seeing you already tucked in your bed. He slides his shirt off and kicks off his shoes before he’s in bed too.

He lays awake, one hand above his head one resting on his chest, he hears you whimper a few times and frowns before you start to mumble panicked and your scent spikes. He’s up quickly and sitting on the edge of your bed, your over heating, he sees small flames dance on your face as it squints. He shakes you gently and you’re up quickly hands out. You burn his chest and he hisses. He hates how you instantly worry and sadden tears in your eyes. He heals easily though, he’d get burnt a thousand times if it meant to be this close. He curses your scent blocker, wants to set it on fire and throw the ashes far away from your reach. He wants to lean forward feel your lips against his, feel your heated body against his.

Watching you now sip whatever the hell that was in your cup and look outside a little calmed in that perfect black dress. He forgot breathing was a thing till his lungs demanded air. Your hips looked so grabable, the way your hair sat was perfect. You were safer over there than here while he talked and tried to gather information. A beta woman came up to him though, flirted with big brown eyes and innocence. He played along for a bit hoping to gather information, but he doubted she’d know, she wasn’t a mutant, nor did she smell like anything related to violence. He showed her how to shoot properly and she lost interest thankfully. He looked back to you, your eyes hard on the woman and pride swelled up in him. He saw small flickers of flame along your skin as you caught his eyes and looked away with red cheeks. He walks over, he doesn’t think anyone here has information. Slides in the booth while you frown a little still blushing.

“Come play” he cocks his head a small smirk on his lip’s and you choke a little on your drink.

“No thank you, I’m happy here with my smoothie, pretty sure the blonde wants a go” you gesture vaguely to the other side.

“Come on” he’s teasing, seeing if you’ll break as his nose flares a little catching something sweet that isn’t your perfume.

“Fine” you sigh.

This was a bad idea, agreeing to whatever evil plan the alpha conspired. You hate the looks the women give and think about going back.

“Logan-“ you say hesitantly but he’s already grabbed two pool cues and set up the table.

“Do you know how to play?” He asks.

“Vaguely, whoever shoots first, if they get a high or low in that’s their numbers, first one to get all there numbers in and then the eight wins” you shrug and see him with a small look of awe on his face.

“You shoot” he cocks his head to the table as stands casually.

“I’m not good at this” you grumble. You lean down and aim, hitting the ball harshly, too harshly, it ends up bouncing and you wish the earth would swallow you up.

“Too much force” Logan says.

“You go first” you get embarrassed and hurry away feeling your head spin a little again.

“Hey” the alpha holds your arm and you jolt a bit. You gulp a little feeling like everyone’s watching you with hatred that this handsome alpha is focused on you.

“Logan-“ you sigh looking to his face. He’s got some puppy dog look going on and you almost choke again. You take a small breath a small frown on your face, you could pick up more of his scent now.

“Just- you go first” you say quietly and he nods. He rearranges the balls and hits them easily, a high going in first.

“Guess I’m highs” he’s says and you nod going around the table. You lean down a little thankful this dress is below knee high. You aim a bit till Logan’s voice makes you jump.

“You won’t hit there” he says and you huff turning to him a small smile playing at his lips. He walks to you and your heart rate picks up as he slides his body easily around yours. Your cheeks flush instantly and realise he’s going to really show you how to shoot. Your mind kicks into override and you scramble out of his hold breathing quickly and he frowns.

“This was a bad idea, keys? Keys where’s the keys” you say rushed body hot as he hands you the keys. You rush outside letting the cool air calm your body and small flames flickering on your arms. You feel like crying and curse softly as you hang your head.

“You ok there doll face?” You frown looking to your left seeing an alpha leaning against the wall smoking.

“Yes, sorry” you say shuffling away a bit as you catch his scent with a small frown. Why was everyone’s scents stronger? You think back to last night body going ridged as you remember in your hastiness to put the serum away you forgot your anti-heat and scent blockers. Panic rises up in you, sure you’ve forgotten them before at the safety of the school where you had access to your room and a locked door.

“Logan” you mumble needing to get inside till the alpha nearby blocks it. You frown not use to this kind of treatment as he a smirk plays at his face. He looks ok you guess, bear a little messy, teeth a bit too yellow for your liking. You feel your hands shake and feel the heat of your flames along your skin.

“Sir I need to get back to my alpha” you lie and he glances to your neck scoffing.

“What alpha?” He leans closer as you back away, but he follows.

“This one” Logan growls behind him, pulling the man away from you and punching him. The man’s knocked out instantly and you take a small shaky breath.

“You ok?” He asks a frown on his face as you shake your head. Gods his scent, it flares with worry as he comes closer nose flaring, eyes narrowing.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t take-“ you take a small breath hugging your body, flames dancing across your arms.

“Hey, hey it’s ok” Logan comes closer large hands on your heated skin.

“You barged in and I panicked with the serum I forgot to take them” you feel tears in your eyes, you feel stupid. Logan has a frown on his face but he tugs you to him, arms going around your shoulders, a hand cradling your head. You shudder forced to breathe him in a small noise leaving your throat. You can’t help your arms going around him and nuzzling closed, wanting his scent all over you. You feel something prick your neck then and jolt.

“Logan” you slur as your body goes limp.

Next part ->

Taglist:

@beanhardy

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: A little blurb about you turning to your best friend, Nick, after a rough couple of days.

Warnings: nothing but a little swearing, bestfriend!nick, fluff

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You push the door to the Sturniolo house open, letting out a sigh as you click it closed, “Nick?” You call out as you kick off your sneakers, “Where are you?”

“Livingroom.”

You walk up the steps and stand there with a pouty look on your face, “Hi.”

“Hey what-“ he looks at you, sitting up from his lying position, “what’s going on?” He tilts his head and you walk over and plop down on the couch, “I’m just so tired of life right now.”

“Are you.. okay?” He wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him, “What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, “It’s just.. been one thing after another and I just-“ you huff, “I need a fucking break, or something. I don’t know.”

“Oh, sweetie.” Nick brings his other arm up, hugging you tighter, “Life sucks sometimes, but you want to know something?”

You nod, mumbling, “Yes.”

“It’s okay to take a break from life. Stay in, silence your phone, whatever it is you need to do. You come first.” He gives you another squeeze, “You always come first.”

You nod silently and he sits you up, “When is your next day off?”

“I have off the next two days.” You wipe your face and he nods, “Good. Give me your phone.” He holds out his hand and you lay it in his palm, “What are-“

“I’m in charge of this for the next two days. Your only job is to relax. I will be your bodyguard, make sure my idiot brothers don’t come out here and annoy you.”

You let out a laugh, nodding as you sigh, “As much as I’ll hate that. I know I need it.”

“Exactly.” Nick nods, “Putting your mental health first is something you need to do. It took me a while, but when you know what the signs of burnout are, and you can set boundaries, it’ll be easier.”

You nod, reaching out to gently push his shoulder, “ Thank you for being my comfort person.”

He smiles and rolls his eyes, “Yeah, no problem or whatever.” He laughs and pulls you in for a hug, “I’m glad you have someone you can confide in. Everyone needs that person, and I’m happy I can be yours.”

“You’re my best friend.” You hug him tighter, ticking his sides to make him laugh. He pushes you away, laughing as he guards himself, “Well, you were mine until you did that.”

He scoffs and your jaw drops, “Niiick..I’m going to start crying again.”

He groans, “Oh no, please don’t. I’m kidding. You’re my best friend too.” He smiles and stands up, “I’m going to grab snacks, you pick a movie, and then another, and then another because we’re having a movie night until you feel better.”

“On it.” You move back into his spot, leaning back against the arm of the couch to get comfortable as you scroll through the movie lists.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Your mental health IS important. YOU are important.

Thank you so much for reading! I know this is short, but I just wanted to get someone fluffy out. I love you so much! Catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[chlorinecake]

i need (politely) more fics like the one with wonbin where they fuck while being high, yk? with whoever you want, i’m down for everything. i need it for my soul and for my well being LOVE U CHLOE

grapefruit diet | s. es

𓂋 stoner boyfriend!eunseok x fem!reader, body image themes, pda, some car action (ykyk), giggly high sex with a mix of praise and body worship, lots of kissing and swearing as always, 3.7k wc

author’s note 𓂋 this is part of my unofficial Euphoria x Riize series where each member is assigned a song from the show and a stoner trope, so feel free to comment who you’d like to see next!

“BABE, WE JUST bought a two-pound bag of grapefruits last week… there’s no way you’re out of ‘em already,” Eunseok said from behind you, voice low and a bit gravelly from his lengthy smoke session earlier.

You could never smell the herb in his clothes, but it usually lingered in his breath for a bit, making you crave a few blows yourself just from kissing him.

Cravings… the word meddled in your mind for a moment until you realized Eunseok was still waiting on your reply.

“I’ve been having one for every meal, though, so I’ll need more for next week…” you replied, sentence coming out more like a mumble towards the end as you leaned down to examine the fruit before you, trying to find the perfect bag.

Perfectionism… another word you aspired to mirror someday, despite how much it pained you.

“Are you on some sort of diet I should know about?”

It’s no secret that you struggle with body image from time to time, and Eunseok’s always been concerned for your health, taking mental notes and observations on both your behavioral and physical changes.

He’d never say anything to your face, though.

He’s respectful enough to keep his thoughts concerning you to himself...

“One you should know about? Not exactly… but I’m sure you’ll be pleased with the results if I stay on tract this time…” you smiled softly, tossing the bag of grapefruit in the shopping cart and taking a few steps away.

The sound of the basket’s slightly rusted wheel’s squeaked behind you as Eunseok followed your short path.

“I won’t say anything against your choice because I trust you’ll be careful, but just know that I’m in love with you either way, ____.”

You suddenly went quiet on him, feeling your breathing pattern change from his choice of words.

Trust… Careful… Love...

“Either wayyy, alright?” He pressed, looking into your eyes for confirmation before giving your shoulder a playful shake and placing a tender kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“I’m in love with you too, baby,” you said, wiping his kiss off with your thumb and dragging it across his lower lip, eyes meeting his intensely, “sort of.”

“Cute,” Eunseok smiled, pretty teeth coming into view with his laughter before he gripped the shopping cart handle and tilted his head at you, “Now get in, will ya?”

Letting out a sigh and playfully rolling your eyes, you climbed into the shopping basket, sitting against the back end so you could face him as he pushed you around the grocery aisles.

You two were always that one couple who proudly displayed affection for each other in public.

Whether that be with his hand tucked into your back jean pocket while strolling through the library, or baby-talking to each other while hugging outside his workplace, you two had to be touching... one way or another.

And these clingy tendencies were only amplified whenever you two were buzzed...

Your fingers grazed over his knuckles as he pushed the basket, peppering them with kisses as he looked down at you, moving the hand that wasn't occupied by your lips to pat your head slightly.

“Want anything else before we go? You know how we can sometimes get the munchies after smoking,” Eunseok started, eyes now scanning over the aisle signs as he continued walking at a steady pace.

Humming tiredly at his proposal, you thought in your mind how badly you'd been wanting to sink your teeth into something that wasn't another bitter grapefruit or the flesh of Eunseok's wrist while cuddling in bed.

But you were so proud of yourself for staying committed to your diet over the past week... you don't get why you decided to smoke with him earlier, knowing that it'd only make it harder for you to control your now salivating tongue.

“Ranch-style chicken sub with bacon, lettuce, and tomato,” your boyfriend read from the label of a tightly wrapped deli item, “looks good to me.”

“You know I won’t eat all of that, Eunseok,” you replied, hands now sitting in your lap as you fidgeted with your chipped nail polish.

Why was he even tempting you right now?

He knows how important it is to you to stay in shape-

“Then we'll split it... and if I'm still hungry, I'll eat whatever you leave behind,” he said, interrupting your thoughts while grabbing a bag of Cheetoes from the nearby chip rack, “deal?”

Your stomach grumbled, the pain in your head started to throb and you couldn't tell if it was because of the weed or your hunger.

Reaching from the basket, you gently took the wrapped sub from his grasp, turning it over to analyze the nutritional facts label, reading 560 calories, 24g fat, 51g carbs, and 38g protein.

It was definitely a lot more calorie-dense than the usual half a grapefruit you ate for lunch every day, but it would definitely stop you from feeling nauseous right now.

Besides, you knew he wouldn't let you say no, and he was nice enough to agree to split it instead of buying you a whole one, “Fine.”

SITTING IN THE passenger seat of Eunseok's car, he passed you a water bottle to help wash your food down, happy in your heart that you decided to go ahead and eat with him even though he bought a whole sub for himself yet still ate the rest of what you didn’t want like he promised.

You were now just a few minutes from home, a Dean song playing faintly in the background as you couldn't get over how hot your boyfriend looked while driving.

“You're staring at me,” he started, eyes training on the road ahead as the red light switched to green, “why?”

“Because we decided to smoke pot together instead of fucking like we really wanted to,” you answered shamelessly, feeling warm in your stomach now that you'd actually said it.

“Just got your energy back, and you're already thinking of ways to use it all up again,” he replied, driving with only one hand on the steering wheel as he relaxed into a manspreading position in his seat, knowing that it'd only drive you crazy.

You couldn't believe this guy, not sure if his comment was one of rejection or an invitation, but you just took it as the later.

Looking in the glove department, you pulled out a sleek box mod, only to put it back once you noticed it wasn't fully charged.

You instead reached for the fresh blunt that was stuffed in your bra from earlier, heating it with your hot pink pocket lighter before guiding it to your lips and giving it an inhale.

“What's the point of saving energy anyway if we're just gonna be boring with it?,” you offered, watching him glance at you through the corner of his eye before you guided the blunt to his lips as he kept driving.

Gently holding his face in place, you let him inhale a puff of his own, cloudy smoke swiveling in pretty shapes around you both before dissolving in the air around his lips.

“Thanks, princess,” he said in a now low voice, the sound of the ignition ascending over the music as he sped along the highway, “now sit back down and put your seatbelt on…”

There he goes again… telling you what to do like he always did.

Leaning away from him, you sat back down properly this time, reaching for your seatbelt and fastening it with a subtle click, “You’re bossy as hell, y’know that?”

“Yup. And disobeying me seems to be a great motivator for you,” he went on, letting out a breath as he felt your eyes on his lap, your hands creeping closer to him, “don’t touch me while I’m driving.”

“I was only looking—”

“I’m serious, ____,” he interrupted your sentence, voice sounding like a mix of strained and stern emotions.

You watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat with a swallow… he always had a habit of doing that whenever he was turned on…

Your dry lips met the joint once again, letting it's fumes fill your chest with another fast-inducing hit of whatever psychedelic mix Eunseok initially rolled it with a few hours ago.

With this, you decided to take your chance, creeping a finger up his thigh closest to you and letting your hand massage into his bulge.

The car suddenly jolted forward, his foot having slammed on the breaks at your actions, “Are you out of your mind?!”

“Maybe a little,” you replied seductively, now unbuckling his belt and zipping down his pants, “just keep your eyes on the road and let me please you…”

He let out a sigh at your words, followed by a hiss as your hand returned to stroking him through his boxers, a small smile poking at the corner of your lips at the feeling of him hardening beneath your touch.

His free hand took to blunt from your idle grasp, giving it another long puff before placing it down to sizzle out on the dashboard.

“Fine… but since you really wanna play that game, don’t keep me waiting,” he said with a heavy voice, hand finding your head in an almost petting manner as you leaned over the seat, face hovering over where he wanted you most.

But you had no intention of using your mouth for him, wanting to make him crave you even more to the point where he’d have no other choice but to fuck you once you two got home…

By now, the music in the background was drowned out by the sound of faint groans thrumming from his mouth, eyes falling lazy as it became harder for him to concentrate on the road with the way you were stroking him.

You let a wad of spit dribble from your lips and onto his tip, his dick twitching a bit in your hand at the sudden feeling.

“Fuck,” he groaned with a raspy voice as your grip around him intensified with your speed, “your hands are so cold…”

You almost couldn’t hide the giggle that came out of you at his words, “Well I’m not using my mouth, so get over it…”

“Why not, pretty? Don’t feel like swallowing?,” he teased, gripping a handful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him, a weak whine stuck in your dry throat.

“It’s not that,” you whispered weakly, dragging out the strokes of your hand around his dick while looking into his glossy eyes, “I just know that you won’t kiss me afterwards if I suck you off...”

He let out an amused snicker, his next sentence being broken off by the feeling of your spit coating his tip once again.

As good as your hand felt wrapped around him right now, he couldn’t help but crave the warmth of your pussy, slamming his foot on the gas to get you both home sooner.

Besides, he’d had enough of your teasing, and it was only getting harder for him to hold back the longer he sat there, hands bound either to the steering wheel or the nape of your neck.

So lost in the pleasure, you're not sure if he even noticed it when your free hand slipped between your legs, teasing the throbbing ache growing at your core.

It didn't take long for you two to arrive, Eunseok trying his best to still park the car in the driveway neatly, despite how he'd just did pot a few minutes ago with your needy hands never ceasing to pump him...

He gave you a non-verbal cue to stop touching him by gently guiding your shoulder away from him.

He fought his hardest to hide the way his thighs were trembling, even though it was obvious all over his flushed face how needy you were making him feel.

You crawled even closer to him, letting the weight of your hand push into his thigh as you braced yourself to meet his lips in a desperate kiss, “I'm so nice for not making you cum all in your pants, huh?”

“Not like you wouldn't have cleaned me up anyways,” he replied with almost mumbled words, the mix of weed and lust in his system right now making him feel dizzy.

That's when you saw his hand reach into the glove department, pulling out a pack of baby wipes and handing you one, “For your hand...”

It was funny how meticulous he could be with staying neat sometimes. Almost as meticulous as you could be when it came to your appearance.

“My hand's are fine, Eunseok, I just jerked you off,” you said, holding the wipe in your palm until he took your hand by the wrist, wiping each individual finger for you.

“The other hand, please,” he continued, your arm obediently giving him your hand to wipe the slick spread all over your fingers, “can't believe you couldn't wait for me to please you, ____... did your pathetic little fingers feel any good?”

“Not as good as yours,” you smirked, crawling backwards and out of the car, both of your movements rushed yet lazy as you made it to the front door together, wrapping yourself around your boyfriend's arm.

“Just try not to fall over because I'm not sure I'll be able to catch you right now,” he teased, twisting the front door knob with one hand as his tingly arm tried bracing you with the other.

Neither of you are sure if it was the free slick meddling between both your legs or the burnt weed coursing through your bloodstream making you feel more dizzy.

Eunseok gave the house a quick scan in his mind as he tried contemplating on the safest place for you high fools to have a quick fuck, his head tilting toward the ceiling with closed eyes.

He could hear you lock the front door from behind him, humming at the proceeding feeling of you sliding his jacket from his shoulders and hanging it on the wall rack.

“God, you're in such a hurry today, baby, gimme a sec,” he chuckled, watching as you started to work on taking his belt off, using the buckle to hold him in place as your lips met his.

Thirsty, yet somehow sloppily.

“You've kept me waiting long enough already,” you exhaled breathlessly, palming him through his jeans as you felt his teeth barely snug at your lower lip, his cold grip finding your warm waist.

“Just settle down, mhm?” he growled lowly with a sly look on his sharp feature, “daddy's gonna take good care of you...”

You rolled your eyes at his words, playfully smacking him on the chest before your scoffs turned into yelps, his arms lifting you from the ground and wrapping your legs around him.

“Eun- Eunseok, you kinky bastard, r-release me!,” you squirmed, watching over his shoulder as you suddenly made it from the front door to your shared bedroom.

He plopped you on the mattress, letting out one of the most attractive sighs you'd ever heard before guiding your hands back to his belt buckle.

“Finish taking it off for me, and I might forgive you for calling me a name...”

You looked at him with baby-doll eyes, which were painfully stained a light shade of red from the weed you smoked earlier, “Sorry,” you said sarcastically softly, leaning forward to free the leather belt from his hips with your hands, “You know I was only messing with you... daddy...”

All he did was stroke your hair in response, the shadow of a smile on his face at your sense of humor.

In a strange way, your playful demeanor only turned him on even more, and he simply couldn't get over how pretty you looked from this angle.

Hair slightly disheveled, your once sharp black eyeliner smudged into a grey blur over your eyelids, and your lips a bit more plush than usual from his teeth nipping at them...

What Eunseok was feeling right now was different from any craving he'd ever felt before... a yearning he'd only ever felt for you.

The same word that meddled relentlessly in the back of your mind, stacked at the very top of your own impossible standards for yourself was the very word on the tip of his tongue right now...

Perfection.

And you were just that in every sense of the word.

The space between you two was warm right now, the mere clothes on your back feeling a bit excessive as your hearts continued to race, despite your minds being still as stone.

“You're absolutely gorgeous,” your boyfriend nearly blurted out, making your hands halt as his sudden words.

“Stop it, Eunseok...,” your voice fell gently to an almost inaudible whisper, gaze falling down to the ground only for his loving hand to guide your chin back up to face him.

“Stop what, darling?”

You let out a breath, struggling to keep eye contact as you started to feel embarrassed, “...Trying to make me feel better about myself...”

“Baby,” he started with a sigh, sitting down beside you on the bed and stroking your slouched shoulder, “these aren't just empty words of mine... you seriously are the most beautiful girl in the world to me, and I wish you could see that, ____...”

It was almost enough to make you cry once he slowly slide you hoodie off and started peppering kisses from your wrist and up to your collarbone.

“I wish I could see that, too,” you admitted, finding comfort in the way his lips made love to you, even at the seemingly neglected areas like behind your ear, where he happily nibbled in his fit of praise.

“Then allow me to remind you how beautiful you are to me,” he whispered, turning your face to his as he finally met your lips again in a sweet embrace, which soon escalated as his tongue went to tangle with yours.

“My needy girl,” he smiled after pulling down your jeans single-handedly, his straight fingers sliding over the paper-thin panties you wore, evidently soaked with yoru slick from how long you'd been waiting for this, “you're honestly the prettiest when the only thought on your mind is my cock...”

“Wanna bet I'd look even prettier once you're actually inside me?,” you asked teasingly, not even realizing that you were slowly rutting against his fingers as he slid them over your folds.

“Oh? And where has this sudden confidence come from?”

You bunched up a bit of his shirt in your fists before pulling him back close to you, feeling even more hungry for the sensation of his mouth against yours.

“Maybe because I'm finally getting what I want,” you answered, just as a weak moan cracked from your throat when he angled your head up by the jaw with his hand, kissing down your neck desperately.

He really didn't have any more time to waste, and it only benefited his stamina even more now that the effects of the weed were starting to settle in for him...

Not fully kick in, but settle...

His warmth left your body for a moment as he stood up to take off his shirt before leaning back down, his hands groping one of your tits as he shimmied his pants the rest of the way down with his free hand, the under-side of his tongue salivating at the sight of your erect nipples.

“How blank is your mind right now?” He asked, letting his shaft slap on your clit as he slid it down to poke at your entrance.

“Just foggy,” you said with a dry swallow, feeling yourself grow even more dumb with lust as he teased your hole with just the tip.

He hummed at your words, barely thrusting his head in before your legs started to shake, “Well you can trust that I'll be careful with you unless you want me to go harder... Is that a deal, love?”

Trust… Careful… Love...

The last word you remember saying was a cheeky “Deal” in return before he pushed himself all the way in, thrusting through your tightness as you eventually warmed up to his size.

Needless to say, a bit of the herbal effects still lingered in your system as he kept rutting into your heat as if half of his mind wasn't wandering on cloud 9 right now.

His eyes blinked with flutters before sealing shut with a hum at the feeling of your walls clenching around him, waves of pleasure bouncing through both your bodies as his sweaty forehead came into contact with yours, his thrusts only getting faster and faster.

Not in a rough way, but with passion.

That was up until you kept arching your back off of the mattress, his strong hand having to push you down so he could fuck into you properly.

You always liked it whenever you two fucked after smoking... the way he'd kiss you all hot and heavy while murmuring the dirtiest of things into the crook of your neck, and the way he'd look into your eyes while high on two different chemicals, wanting nothing more but to bring you over the edge with him and fall into each other's pleasure.

“Fuck, baby, you're doing so good for me- shit, feels so good, princess,” he panted on top of you, his own mind starting to mirror the fog meddling in yours, especially with the way your tits were bouncing right now.

Your body and of course everything else about you was quite literally like a wet dream to him, and if he had the choice, he'd never wanna wake up from it.

By now though, he could tell that you were way into it just from the way your breath wobbled like it waswalking along a tightrope, incoherent whimpers of yes, please, and mmm's bouncing off the bedroom walls.

He felt his hips stutter just as a loud curse escaped his mouth, his slimy thickness pulling out of you as spurts of his cum coated your throbbing pussy, feeling especially warm against your sweaty skin.

Everything in his body wanted to fuck his release back into you, but he knew it was best not to, especially with the way your body was contracting from your orgasm.

He leaned down for the last time to leave tender kisses all over your chest and face, whispering sweet I love you's into the sensual air flowing between you.

He gave both of your tired muscles a moment to calm down before rolling on his back, your chests still heaving as little sighs passed through your swollen lips, the taste of each other pretty evident on both your tongues.

“Was that worth the wait, baby?” He asked first, an obvious smile on his face once he saw you get up in his peripheral vision, legs still wobbly as you crawled over to straddle him, twitching from how sensitive you felt right now.

“Almost... but it definitely could've lasted a bit longer,” you teased, letting your hands roam over his toned abs as you slowly rocked your hips against him, letting your core coat him all over again with your wetness.

You felt his touch travel from your goosebump-stained thighs and all the way up to your lower back, where he guided you to let him back inside.

Both of your energy levels were near completely spent right now, and that was just from your first round taking him.

Even so, if there's one thing about you two as a couple, it's that your clingy tendencies only heighten whenever you're buzzed, and with the look on your faces in this moment, he didn't plan on putting that fact to rest.

“I suppose another round wouldn't hurt,” he smirked, watching as you slid down his length while biting your lip, more than ready to use the last of your energy to ride out another high...

As the narrator, I would love to end the story here, but in favor of the over-thinkers, I should clarify that you and Eunseok ended up forgetting the grapefruits in his car trunk by accident...

Not that either of you cared, though... with the way your night ended, it was totally worth the wasted three dollars and some change on a bag of bitter fruit and future hunger-pains...

🛒 personal note to the original anon: Hopefully this fic did your soul some justice :'] and TYSM for requesting this!! Apologies for taking so long to get to your ask, but either way, I think it's super sweet how much you enjoy my stoner!tropes, and I look forward to writing more for you in the near future ~

🛒 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr + the link to my riize master list ! ! !

[laurfilijames]

All I Want...

Pairing: Will Miller x reader

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: Angst. Swearing. PTSD. Panic attack. Mentions of an unhappy childhood, military service, personnel being KIA. Tom's death. Grief. People being unhappy at Christmas. (There's some fluff too, bear with me!)

Summary: Will tries to fight off a panic attack early on Christmas morning, his unenthusiastic feelings toward the holiday making him feel guilty on top of everything else on his mind, only to be reminded that it's okay to not feel festive and that he's not alone.

A/N: I'll be the first one to admit that Christmas isn't all it's cracked up to be sometimes. People often call me Scrooge, but I've learned over the years to prioritize my mental health around the holidays and take it all in stride. To those who struggle in any kind of way this time of year, I see you, and this is for you.

This fic follows some of my headcanons about the Miller brothers in that they didn't have a great upbringing, and that Will often suffers from poor sleep and panic attacks.

---

Scrooge. The Grinch.

These were some of the names bestowed upon Will over the years, his less than enthusiastic feelings toward Christmas noticed and pointed out as often as possible during the holiday season by those closest to him, mainly Benny.

It was innocent enough, his brother, Fish and Pope all aware and understanding to the reasons why Will wasn’t overly excited, but sometimes it got under his skin and the temptation to tell Ben to fuck off sat on the tip of his tongue on more than one occasion when he got going on a roll of teasing him.

He always tried his best to keep his opinions to himself, not caring to bring it up in order to avoid the shock and disbelief that someone could hate Christmas, having to stand and painfully listen to whoever was scolding his humbug ways try to convert him and preach all the reasons why it was so magical.

He had been this way for as long as he could remember, the earliest memories of an unhappy Christmas morning tucked away in the back of his mind until they inevitably were pushed back to the surface each time the radio stations turned their usual music to all the annoying holiday songs and people started asking the mundane “Are you ready for Christmas?” questions to everyone who never wanted to give an honest answer. He could always see the stress most people carried with them this time of year, the worry of spending money they didn’t have and not meeting expectations evident on their faces as they frantically rushed around to get all the things ticked off their lists to make the day ‘perfect’.

Perfect was never a word Will would use to describe any of his past Christmases, the thought making him scoff and shake his head as he looked up at the night sky, counting the stars as a way to try to clear the persistent thoughts that had gotten him out of bed at 3:26 AM.

Vivid images that he had tried to blur and forget always reappeared no matter how hard he tried; his parents yelling from the kitchen loud enough he had to peel Benny and his one toy from under the tree to go outside to get away from the anger, not to mention the countless Christmas mornings he woke up to gunfire or spent the day trudging through the rain and freezing cold, or had sweat clinging to his back in the heat of the desert, more often than not spending December 25th on tour and deployed somewhere that mimicked hell.

Will couldn’t help but feel guilt more than usual on days like today, thinking of all the families whose sons or daughters, husbands or wives and everything between never made it home to celebrate another Christmas with them, that shame becoming part of the reason he tended to make sure he was always off serving somewhere, not feeling like he deserved to be in the warm comforts of home with those he loved.

Add that to the long list of things his ex resented him for, one more thing he could never do right, and something else she refused to make an effort to understand despite him trying to explain it.

Today it seemed to all weigh more than it normally did.

Tom’s death was still fresh in all their minds, this being the first Christmas Molly and the girls would have to spend without him, and the thought of their irreparable grief made Will want to crumble.

He exhaled a long breath, blowing it out shakily from his lungs, his chest feeling tight as his heart pounded inside it like a caged animal.

He inhaled as slowly as he could manage, one, two, three, counting in his head to gain control over the quickly rising panic.

Exhaling out, one, two, three, his heart still hammering, his pulse furiously thrumming in his neck.

His hand shook as he lifted it up to rub the back of his neck roughly, feeling sweat accumulating on it and dampening his palm that was equally wet.

The steadiness of the number of seconds between each laboured breath was doing little to keep him calm, the thoughts of his conversation with you a couple of days prior echoing in his mind to drown them out along with the ringing in his ears.

You swore up and down a hundred times that you were fine with not celebrating, assuring him that you were relieved to not make a fuss over Christmas and reminding him that your own views of it were also plagued by unhappy memories; that being alone with him was more a gift than anything wrapped in paper and bows under a tree. He knew you meant it when you said you wanted to hide away with him until the madness of it all was over, but now his mind was playing tricks on him, making him doubt your words and sending him into a tailspin over projecting his attitude toward it on you.

But he knew you wouldn’t lie to him.

He kept on that train of thought as his fingers wrapped around the railing on the deck, gripping into the wood as hard as he could, feeling the splintered pieces from years of weather digging into his skin. Drawing in another short breath and gasping slightly, he did his best to remember why he came outside in the first place, seeking fresh air that ironically had become suffocating.

One, two, three, he repeated to himself again, closing his eyes to better focus on slowing his breathing down.

A minute and thirty-seven seconds had passed with him concentrating, able to let the consistency of the numbers aid him as he continued to count, the feel of your warm hands slipping up his cold, clammy back allowing him to finally release the tension he had been holding in his shoulders.

“I’m okay,” he muttered, his voice lacking the conviction he hoped it had.

“I never thought you weren’t,” you whispered, your hands still pressing reassuringly on his torso as you moved beside him, your lips meeting his shoulder to kiss it twice.

Will smiled, grateful for your belief in him, never making him feel weak or like he needed saving, simply there with a love and empathy he had sought his whole life.

He released his grip on the rail and glanced over at you, shooting you a weak smile gathering you in his arms for a hug, kissing the top of your head appreciatively while you continued to rub your hands in a calming, languid pattern across his skin.

“I love you,” he murmured, feeling his heart beat in a stronger rhythm different from how it had moments ago.

“I love you too, Will,” your lips moved against his chest, your arms squeezing him a little tighter as you pressed yourself closer to his body.

“You’re sure you’re happy to spend Christmas this way?”

“More than happy,” you reiterated, pulling your face away to look at him, his blue eyes like flames against the deep navy of the night sky.

“Okay,” he sighed, leaning in to kiss you.

“You know there’s that song, ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’,” you smiled, watching his expression change, his grin stretching out to form the creases in his cheeks as he shook his head.

“Please don’t sing it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

Will chuckled and kissed you again, slowly, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a gentle demand.

“Let’s get back to bed,” he said quietly, nodding toward the house after he broke the seal of your lips.

As he led you into the house, your fingers laced with his, he thought how maybe he could find ways to celebrate Christmas with you that wouldn’t make it all seem so terrible, the idea of creating your own traditions somewhat exciting to him.

He smiled at you over his shoulder, stopping in the middle of the hallway where he clasped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply, his body pressing into yours with a need to show you just how much you meant to him, knowing that as long as he was with you he could face anything.

---

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[bookshelf-dust]

pouring out the sun

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 6,988

warnings: swearing, chubby!reader, reader deals with specific body insecurities, swimsuit wearing, brief mention of blood?, post-starcourt billy, slight sexual innuendos (let me know if i missed anything)

a/n: well, um, it’s been a little over a month since you got a fic from me. i took a break from writing, but my mental health only got worse, so clearly it didn’t work too well. this fic was meant to be a way for me to work through some things, so beware of that. i thought maybe someone else might need it too, or might even understand, in some way. i know i don’t usually do specifics regarding reader, but this is really for me. also, the title is a reference to the song of achilles, but it seemed fitting. i hope this turned out okay. i know it’s a lot, but it’s something. <33

————

The wall behind you is starting to make your back ache. The chill you’d felt through your shirt when you’d first situated yourself against it is long gone. You pull your knees up as close as you can get them and wrap your arms around your calves. 

Billy has pressed himself into the footboard of your bed. He’s staring at you and your obstinance makes you stare right back. He crosses his arms, and your gaze flickers to the way his biceps shift with the movement. He’d tease you if he weren't so determined to challenge your stubbornness with his own. 

“How long?” you question, pressing your cheek into the skin of your knee and letting your eyes flutter closed.

“A week. Maybe two,” he answers. 

You scoff and roll your neck so that your forehead can take the place of your cheek. “Oh, holy shit,” you say, voice muffled by your legs. “Yeah, that’s a no.”

Billy rolls his eyes, and even if you can’t see him, you can feel it. He runs a hand down his face. You have your moments, where you can be incredibly difficult, but this is something different. It’s almost like you’re frustrated in some way, and it frustrates Billy that he can’t pinpoint why. 

“You sound like Harrington.” He pushes off the bed and lands a playful slap to the side of your calf before walking out of the room, hoping a bit of pacing might help him figure out what to do.

Billy has wanted to go back to California since he got to Hawkins, though now he seems to be content with a simple vacation, rather than being in a rush to move back. When he brought it up again today, telling you firmly that he is going, you thought it sounded lovely. That it’d be good for him, that maybe he’d take Max and they’d do some family bonding or something. But that’s not what he’d said.

He wants you to go with him.

And you hate the beach. With a burning, fiery passion. 

Despite this, there’s a voice in the back of your head that tells you you’ll end up going anyway–just for him. But right now, the idea of going to California makes you nauseous. 

Sitting in a hot car for the length of that trip, sweating your ass off, baking in the sun, being trapped on the beach for hours? What’s so fun about all of that? And then there’s the matter of a swimsuit. Billy has certainly never seen you in one, and he definitely doesn’t know that you got rid of the ones that were once in your possession. 

He traipses back into the room, making you look up. It’s as if he’s somehow sensed that you were lost in thought, that you were being unkind to yourself. He doesn’t like it when you shit on his girl.

“Look,” Billy starts, leaning against the doorframe. “If you really don’t want to go, I’m not gonna force you or anything.”

He pauses, and you slide further down the wall until your back rests firmly against the mattress. You force yourself to make eye contact with him–only for a moment. 

“I just thought it might be nice to have you with me. I wanted to take you home.” His mouth tips up in a grin at that last bit. He’s guilt tripping you. 

“Goddamnit, William.” You slap your hands over your eyes, shielding yourself from him like he might up and turn you to stone. You’ve never fancied being a garden statue. 

“I just…I don’t know, Billy. There’s a lot for me to think about.” You pull your hands back and his face is inches from yours. It makes you jump, but makes his mouth twist into a Cheshire cat grin. Contrary to the way his boots usually announce his presence, he’s partial to moving like a cat when no one else is around. “Jesus.”

He presses his palms into the bed on either side of you and sits so that his thighs bracket your own. This way you can’t run when he asks you why you’re so insistent about not going to California with him.

“You mean there’s a lot for you to overthink about.” His hands find your sides, thumbs sweeping over the soft of your belly. Your mind jumps to the pudge you know lies underneath your shirt, the very thing that prevents you from wearing the teeny bikinis Heather Holloway runs around in. Right now you can’t bear to have him touch you, and you push his hands off. 

You give him an agitated look, and again that feeling, that he can’t quite pinpoint what’s going on, crawls up Billy’s abdomen and prods at his throat. “What? Like that’s not what you were doing when I came back in here?”

He goes to rest his hands on your thighs, the bare skin calling to him, skin he wants to grasp, knowing how pliant it will be, how it might move under his fingertips, but he stops himself. He thinks that you’ll just push him off again, so he settles for planting them back against the mattress, though close enough that he can feel the warmth of you–close enough that you’re still tangible.

You sigh. He mocks the sound, pitching his voice up just that little bit higher. You cover your face with your palms once more. 

“Look,” Billy starts, “I’ll take care of everything. There’s really nothing for you to worry about. You know I’ve been saving for this since I got here.”

You nod behind your hands, and Billy recognizes it as a gesture you make when you’re about to cry. He swears his heart drops out of his ass. 

“Hey, hey, hey–what’s going on in there?” He pulls at your wrists, a gentle grip, but more than enough to be firm. You let him move your hands away, and he sets them on your belly, but even that seems to be wrong. You’re quick to remove them, not being able to stand the squish of your own flesh. 

You aren’t crying, but your eyes are a little glassy. Billy thinks whatever tears might’ve been about to spill, you’ve willed away. You inhale.

“Billy, I can’t just go to the beach.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I don’t look like you.”

If you could manage to look at him, you’d see the way Billy’s brows meet, maybe even catch the way his breath hitches in his throat. He connects the dots, all at once. Suddenly he knows what you mean.

Last summer, when you were still just friends, you’d come and eat lunch with him on his break. But never once did you actually go swimming, always just taking off when he had to continue his shift. Billy had secretly hoped you’d stay and lounge, at least, during one of the many times you dropped Max or Dustin off. You never did. 

He’s not even sure he ever saw you in something other than jeans then. Hell, you’re wearing shorts right now, in the comfort of your own home, but you don’t ever leave the house in them. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Why hadn’t the thought at least occurred to him?

He thinks about all the times you avoid mirrors, or looking at other people. How you never want to go shopping, how all of your clothes are just that little bit too big. He realizes it’s serving you a purpose. You’re trying to hide–from Hawkins, from him, from yourself.

Billy feels like he’s been punched, or maybe like someone’s poured ice water down the back of his shirt. Still he teases. He needs to.

“Well, contrary to popular belief, I'm really not that into myself. So I’m actually pretty damn grateful that you don’t look like me.”

He tracks your shaky inhale. The teasing has failed him, and he doesn’t want to see you cry.

Billy moves off of your lap in hopes that it might help pull you out of your head for a moment. “You wanna talk to me?” he ventures. You sit up, nodding. The movement allows the tears you’d been holding back to slip free, gliding down the apples of your cheeks.

Billy’s thumbs are against your skin in a moment, wiping them away. “Yeah?” He reciprocates your nod, more reassuring, supportive, than mocking. Billy holds out his hand for you to take. You bring it into your lap, tracing the many creases on his palm. It gives you something steady to focus on, grounds you enough that you can concentrate on getting your words out. 

“I know it’s stupid,” you mumble, voice thick with emotion. Billy flicks his fingers upward to tickle your own, and it gets your lips to tick up just that little bit. 

“It’s not stupid,” he says, tone dead serious. “What’s that shit you always tell me?” He raises his other hand, waving it around. “This is a safe space to share your feelings.” He says the words playfully, as if it might pain him, though he’s just trying to help you like you do for him. Your heart warms at the effort.

“It’s my body, Billy. I can’t just go to the beach because the beach means a swimsuit, it means people seeing me in a swimsuit, you seeing me, but I can’t wear one, and I—” You pause, drawing in a breath. Your eyes squeeze shut for just a second, another tear falling down, but you catch it before he can.

“I hate my body, okay? And I love that you want to take me with you to California, really it means so much to me, but I-I know that means tagging along with you, being out in hot weather, and I’m just going to ruin it all for you looking like this. Really you should be taking someone else. Someone who can maybe put on clothes without sobbing.”

When you finish and look up at him, Billy looks heartbroken. It immediately makes you want to take it all back. You never meant to tell him any of this. 

“You sob when you have to get dressed?” he asks, almost tentatively. The way he says it tells you he’s not picking on you, but instead trying to understand. He’s picturing it, you struggling to simply get ready for the day, and it kills him. You shouldn’t have to feel that way.

“I have before, yeah. And Billy you’re hot. I know you know that. You should be with someone who’s equally as attractive. Not someone like me.”

You hiccup and release Billy’s hand. You start playing with a string on the hem of your worn-out shorts. Billy’s thumb finds your forearm, dragging up to press against the inside of your elbow. “Baby.”

You shake your head, forcing a sad smile to form on your face. “It’s alright. I told you it was silly.”

“Are you shitting me right now?” His grip tightens ever so slightly. He’s begging for you to listen to him without ever saying so. You meet his eyes, and he’s looking at you with so much concern, so much love, that you wish you hadn’t looked at all. This isn’t silly. Not to him.

“What is it about your body that you don’t like? Can you tell me that much?” 

More understanding. More compassion. You can’t take it.

You bite the inside of your lip so hard that you draw blood. You press your tongue against the spot, hoping it will stop. You’re getting angry with yourself. For making this situation about you, for telling him about your stupid feelings, for thinking that you could ever make this work when clearly you’re not meant to even be in a relationship, especially not with him, and definitely not when you look like this–

“Stop. Take a deep breath, and talk to me.” Billy’s tone is unyielding. You’re working this out right now, and he’s made that decision for you. He knows if you don’t, you’ll just shove it right back under the rug and keep fighting this internal battle with yourself all while he’s right here.

You do as he said, and start again. 

“I don’t like my tummy, or my hips, o-or my boobs. My arms are wrong too, and I’ve got all these rolls, and nothing is shaped right. I hate everything, and I can’t even look in the mirror anymore, and I want to go on this trip with you, really I do, but all of this is overwhelming me, and I-I’m just going to ruin it for you.”

“Look at me,” Billy says. You hadn’t even noticed you’d stopped, eyes glued to your bedsheets. You start crying again, warm tears spilling over your lashes. You can’t get them to stop, can’t get your thoughts to stop. It makes you want to press your hands to your ears, like that would help, but really it’s just you. You in your own head. 

Billy takes your face in his hands. “There is nothing wrong with your body. This is just your mind fuckin’ with you. I know that every part of you is perfect, just as it is, and you don’t have to look like anyone else to be good enough.”

You shake your head and grab hold of his wrists. “See, but you can’t really say that. You don’t actually know what my body looks like because I don’t have it in me to let you see it. I know that if you did, you’d be grossed out, Billy. There’s so much fat, and pudge, and I–”

“Why are you saying that like it’s a bad thing? Because it isn’t and I don’t wanna hear you say that again, you understand?” You sniffle. He takes that as a yes. 

“Baby, I know I haven’t seen shit. But I fucking swear that I’d be a goner for it. You think I mind having a little extra to squeeze on? ‘Cause I don’t.”

You’re trying so hard to believe him, but every cell, every nerve in your body is screaming in protest. He’s lying. He’s lying, he’s lying, he’s lying. But there’s a part of your brain that knows he isn’t. That he wouldn’t dare lie to you. 

“My body is…it’s disappointing.” You sit up on your knees and wipe your nose. “Because I-I know what the world wants me to look like, and I don’t look like that.” You squeeze your eyes shut, and more tears slip out. He can’t stand to see you like this, and it’s killing him to know that this is what you’ve been dealing with for who knows how long.

“It’s not fair,” you cry. “It’s not fair because I don’t get to walk around with this amazing body, the kind of body that men clearly want, and I think now I want it too. I sit in my room at night and I think about how I’d love myself more if I had a different body.”

Now that the floodgates have opened, you can’t force them closed. 

“Because I don’t have porn star tits, Billy. They’re sad looking, and they definitely don’t look like the chick’s on your bedroom wall, or the ones in your bedside drawer. 

He lets out a scoff of a laugh. It’s not malicious, not even at all. It’s simply due to the fact that your mind, and the world around you, has led you to hating the body you were given. He laughs because he agrees with you that it isn’t fair. It isn’t fair that you’re feeling like this. But he has to make sure you recognize that you can’t compare yourself to fucking models. 

“You know all of their tits are fake, right? Or strapped in somehow to get ‘em that high.”

You rub your nose, drag a hand down your throat. “Well, yeah but I’m sure there are lots of other women around here with better boobs than me. I know you like boobs, Billy. And mine are gross.”

“Yeah, that’s bullshit. They aren’t gross, and you shouldn’t talk about your girls like that.” He holds up a finger to prevent you from fussing about that comment. “I don’t care if they’re a little droopy or if they aren’t these round balloons, or if they aren’t porn star tits, or whatever it is about them you don’t like. And I know it’s only because you’ve been comparing your tits with some stranger’s, and that’s bullshit too.” You stare at Billy blankly, but he’s still not done. 

“I wouldn’t care about any of those things. Because they’re your boobies, and that makes them my favorites.”

“Please don’t say boobies, Billy.” He grins and leans in until his mouth hovers above the shell of your ear.

“And I always end up thinkin’ about you anyway.” Your face starts to burn and you fight the urge to abort right then and there. “Not even Elvira can keep me from thinking about you, baby.”

Your face is burning. “What is wrong with you?”

“Oh, there’s a lot wrong with me,” he says, rubbing his nose against yours. “But there’s not a damn thing wrong with your body, and I’m gonna be right here until you think the same.” He gives you one chaste kiss and pulls back. 

“But Billy, my ass is–”

“Amazing? I’ve seen it in those jeans you wear all the time. Shit is mind boggling, baby.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

His giggles taper out, and then he’s looking at you all gently again, like you’re the most precious thing in the entire goddamn universe. “You gotta quit comparing yourself to other people, okay? Doesn’t do you any good, and I know that. This is the only body you’re gonna get, and you deserve to love on it a little.” 

You run your hands down your face. “I just wish I believed that.”

Billy leans down and smacks a kiss to your knee. 

“Hate seein’ you like this, you know? You’re the prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. The way you’re told you should look? It’s all idealized and stereotypical bullshit, and it isn’t fair for you to look at yourself and pick every little thing apart because it doesn’t look like some chick in a porno mag or a comic book drawn by some horny, middle-aged man.” 

He’s fired up now, genuinely hurting for you, and he’s talking with his hands. That gets you every time. 

You might be snotty, your cheeks might feel tight from where the tears have dried, but seeing him be so passionate about making you feel better gets a little grin out of you. 

Billy catches it, that itty bitty quirk of your lips, and he moves in until his face is inches from yours. It’s supposed to be intimidating. 

“The fuck are you grinning about?”

Your grin turns into a full, teary smile. 

“You expecting a kiss or something?” he teases, thumb dragging over your lashes, separating them where they’d clumped together with moisture. 

“I was gonna give you one, actually.” Your eyes start to prickle again. “Because I don’t deserve you—”

Billy covers your mouth with his hand. “Listen, if there’s anyone who doesn’t deserve someone, it’s me—”

You do the same to him in an instant, only he smacks his lips against your palm, winking just for good measure. You roll your eyes.

Both of you remove your hands at the same time, and then you really do kiss him. A sweet press of your mouth that tells him…everything. 

You pull away, and he’s still looking at you like you hung the fucking stars.

“I’m sorry for keeping all of this in, Billy. It’s so suffocating sometimes, and I get so angry with myself for looking like this. I just imagine that I’d be so much happier with someone else’s body.”

“But if you had someone else’s body, you wouldn’t be you anymore. You wouldn’t be my girl.” 

You nod, trying not to let the voices win. Trying not to think about how you look in the mirror versus how you wish you looked. How if you had different features it might be better. 

“Just can’t help thinkin’ you should be with someone that looks nicer than I do.” 

“But I want you, okay? I love you exactly the way that you are.”

“Okay,” you respond, voice shaky. 

“Can I hug you?” Billy asks.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

Billy pulls you into his arms, squeezing you tightly against him. He has this way of getting you out of your head, of making you feel like the two of you are all that matter.

You’ve both risen up onto your knees, the mattress dipping around you. Billy’s hands are rubbing all over your back. 

He leans his head back a little, making sure he catches your attention before he dips his chin down to gesture at where the both of your chests meet. 

“They don’t feel gross to me.”

You heave a sigh, pulling away from him completely, and trying to ignore how proud he looks of himself.

“We’re gonna keep workin’ on this, alright? I’m not letting you hate on yourself so much anymore.”

“Yes, sir.” 

Billy rolls his eyes, but you give him a hopeful, yet sad, smile, all the confirmation he’s looking for. That you’ll try. 

“So what else about the beach is it that you’re worried about? I’ll buy you a fucking umbrella, I swear. And if you go, I’ll let you drive.”

Your eyes widen, and Billy knows he’s just won you over. He knows that you have a soft spot for his car, and he’ll do anything to keep you happy.

————

“You aren’t upset that you’re not going?”

“No, not really. I mean, I like it there, but I’ve never had the same attachment to it as Billy has.”

Max slings another swimsuit over her arm. You decided that you really wanted to try and find one you might be comfortable in. Billy said you didn’t have to swim, even if he didn’t want you to overheat, but you’re determined to find something. And Max had happily offered to help you while Billy worked on finding you both a place to stay.

Every once in a while, Max will hold one up to you, as if contemplating the color, and then decide she wants you to try it on without asking, knowing you’ll argue with her.

“Do you miss it?” 

She shrugs her shoulders, nodding towards the dressing rooms and leading the way. She’s holding substantially more swimsuits than you are, and you know you’ll be trying on every single one.

“Sometimes? I miss my family. And I think even for Billy it’s mostly about his mom. California was the last place he was sort of…happy. But I like Hawkins, you know? And even if he likes it better now too, I’ve never been as determined to go back as he is.”

You pause outside the dressing room, clutching the slippery fabric harder than necessary. “I understand. Anything you want me to bring back for you?” 

Max opens the door for you and starts hanging up suits on the hooks provided. She grins. “I’ll never say no to a prize. Now stop stalling, and get in here.” 

You do as she says, and make her choose which one to try first, just to make it easier on yourself. 

Max closes her eyes while you change, but when she hears the shuffling stop and a sniffling replaces it, she moves her hands. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She stands up next to you.

You’re crying, but you’re trying so, so hard not to let the tears slip out. “I’m sorry,” you say, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. “I just haven’t seen my body like this in a long time, and I feel like I look so ugly.” 

She grabs your wrists and gently pulls them away from your face. 

“You don’t look ugly. You look great.” 

Max turns you so that you’re facing the mirror again. Your hands fly to your stomach, and you start to poke at it. She watches you pull at the skin of your hips, trying to see what it’d look like if there was less of it. 

“Don’t do that,” she scolds you. You let your hands fall to your sides, and she catches the stray tear before it can slide down your cheek. She’s being much too nice to you. 

“You don’t think that’s gross?” you question, criticizing your body in the mirror, comparing it to the stockpile of other bodies you’ve got in your brain. 

Max puts her hands on her hips. “No, I don’t think it’s gross. I think you look hot.”

You scoff, pulling at one of the straps. It’s a one- piece, in a color you really like, because you’re too scared to show your tummy right now. There’s a voice in the back of your head that says it looks just fine, but you ignore it. 

“You can’t really think that, Max.”

“Oh, but I can, and I do. So, you’re just gonna have to live with that. And Billy told me about your problems with your body—he’s got a big mouth, you know that? But I wanted to tell you that my hips look like that too. It’s normal.” 

She’s standing like Steve, determined to have you believe her. Determined to be there for you. 

“I think you should get this one,” she continues. “I know you like it.”

“I don’t know, Max.”

“Then try on a few more, okay? Don’t let your thoughts stop you from picking out something you like. As long as it’s comfortable, that’s all that matters. You have a great body, and you deserve to go to the beach with your boyfriend and wear a swimsuit.”

She flops down on the bench, an encouraging smile gracing her face when she reaches up and shoves another bathing suit into your hands. 

Max Mayfield is very convincing when she wants to be. Not only do you keep the tears at bay for the rest of the trip, you also end up getting the first one, as well as one she slipped in your basket at the last second because it “Looked too kickass not to buy.”

————

“You make a very pretty passenger princess, you know.”

Billy rolls his eyes, and even if you can’t exactly see the gesture with your own glued to the road, you feel the disturbance. He smacks his hand against your bare thigh and leaves it there, even if it is too hot for skin-to-skin contact. You know if it weren’t for the air conditioning blasting your face, you might’ve shoved him out of the car. 

“Turn up here, you little shit.”

You’ve made it off of all the main roads, now driving through beach town after beach town. Billy can’t even complain about your driving because well…you’re a good driver. He watches you eye the swankier resorts, the ones with pools and valet parking. He hopes you’ll be happy with the little house he found. It’s not too far from where he grew up, and he’d been pleased about being somewhat familiar with the area. 

The sound of gravel under the tires makes you feel safe. Billy directs you towards your destination, and when you park the car, you feel like you might cry. 

The house is small, sure, but it’s welcoming. The neighborhood isn’t suffocatingly full, either. Sure, there are other homes, some larger than others with their big balconies and wrap-around porches, but it feels…nice. 

You turn off the engine and get out. Billy walks around the other side of the car and wraps his arms around your waist. “You wanna go look around? I’ll come back and get our shit in a minute.”

You spin around and smack a kiss to his forehead. If his cheeks weren’t already red from the heat, he knows they would be simply from your affection. You nod, and Billy takes your hand, leading up the little set of stairs to the door. 

He bends over. “The lady on the phone said the key was under the mat.” He comes back up with the metal in hand. 

“The lady on the phone?” you wonder. 

Billy pushes the door open. “Yeah, it’s like an old ass couple renting this place out. She practically told me her whole life story the other day.” You grin and hook your fingers in his belt loops, letting him pull you around inside the house. 

It really is cozy. One bedroom, two and a half bathrooms. Comfy little barstools and a sweet couch. The part you’re really excited about is the porch. Excited enough that you separate from Billy and pull the sliding glass doors open to step outside. 

You can see the beach. It might take a little bit to walk down there, but you can see it. Which means you can watch the sunset. 

“You like it?” Billy leans against the doorframe behind you. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“I really do.”

He pulls you in for a kiss then, lips warm and a little chapped against yours. 

“So, I have this plan.” You raise an eyebrow, clearly a little frightened by that idea. He grins, and kisses you again, trying to shut you up, you know. “There’s a board shop not far from here that closes in…” He pauses, looking at his watch. “An hour and a half. I was gonna rent one so that I can surf tomorrow. Do you wanna go with me or stay here?”

You look over at the bench tucked into the corner of the porch. The cushion looks very comfortable, and you did bring a book. He knows what you’re doing to say before you even say it. 

“I think I’ll stay here.”

“That’s cool, baby. I can pick up dinner?” He squeezes at your hips. 

“That would be nice.”

You reach around and slip your hands into his back pockets. He won’t say it, but you seem a little lighter now that you’re here. Like you aren’t so panicked about the prospect of vacation, but rather content to be there with him. It’s as if you know he’s going to take real good care of you–which he is. 

“That way you can explore, right?” he teases. You’re like a cat that way. You have to check everything out first before you really settle down. 

“Right.” You press a kiss to the tip of his nose, and he pats around on your ass, looking for his keys. When he secures them, he gives it a firm smack, just while he can get away with it, and then he’s moving away from you. 

But he’s right. You do feel a little more content. Maybe even comfortable.

————

“Be fucking still, William.”

“It’s cold,” he bites back. 

You’re rubbing sunscreen all over his back, and even if you’ve already covered the rest of him in it, and helped him tie his hair up into a sweet little bun, he’s destined to be the whiniest man in all of existence. You know for a fact that it isn’t that cold, considering he’d put it on you minutes before. 

“There.” You push your hand into the skin of his neck, making sure you’ve got every spot. You refuse to listen to him fuss about a sunburn. “I’m all done.”

 Billy turns around to face you, placing his sunglasses up on the top of his head. “Ready to get going then?”

“If by ready to watch you eat shit, then yes.”

Billy aligns his face with yours, locking eyes and everything. “I’m not gonna eat shit.”

“Eh,” you shrug, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “I bet you will.”

He kisses your shoulder over the t-shirt you’re wearing. He still hasn’t seen the swimsuit you’ve put on, and you’re trying to postpone it for as long as possible. It’s a miracle you didn’t cry getting it on, but you tried to remember what Max had said, how sweet Billy had been when you’d come clean about your insecurities. It is comfortable, at least. You just feel all sorts of wrong wearing it. But you can’t let that ruin this whole trip. It’s not worth it. 

“Come on, grumpy pants. Get a move on.”

When you finally make it to the beach, you’re so hot and sticky you could beat the shit out of him right then and there. There’s no way this is actually enjoyable for people. Definitely not in this heat. 

Billy has left to retrieve an umbrella and a chair for you, insisting he can just sit on a towel. By the time he gets back, you’re full on pouting. It makes him laugh. You cross your arms and watch him work the umbrella into the sand. 

He finishes and reaches a hand out to pull you up from where you’d plopped on top of the towel bag. “It’s so hot,” you whine, faking tears. 

He just keeps laughing. “I know. That’s why you’re gonna come in the water with me, and then you’ll cool off and you can come sit here and watch me eat shit.”

He pulls his shirt off over his head. Your eyes wander all over his torso, soaking in every inch of skin, every freckle and scar. “I thought you weren’t gonna eat shit,” you argue, leaning in to kiss the raised patch on his chest. 

You wish you could be as confident about your body as he is sometimes. Things got really hard for Billy after Starcourt, but at some point something just snapped, and he decided he should show off the messy scars. He takes care of them as best as he can, much better care than he ever thought he would, and they are looking better.

You even wish that you could love on your own the way you do his. But that’s just not the case. 

“Yeah, well I probably will eat shit, so.” He gestures towards your shirt. “You gonna swim in that?” His eyes drop to your bare thighs. No one should be allowed to look that sweet.

“Um…no.” You tentatively grab the hem of your shirt and pull it off quickly, trying to rip off the bandaid. When you’re done, Billy has to remember to keep his mouth closed, his jaw having legitimately dropped. 

“Holy shit. This is the body you’ve been so mean to?”

“If you don’t stop, I’m gonna put the shirt back on.” 

He steps closer to you. He’s gawking. “No! Please don’t. You look hot, baby.”

You’re not sure anyone has ever called you hot before. Certainly not whilst in an item of clothing that doesn’t leave much to the imagination, even if you are pretty damn covered. It’s a little bit higher cut on the sides than you’re used to, but it holds everything in well. You feel exposed. If you think about it for too long you’ll probably just throw up. 

You put your hands over your belly and tilt your head, smushing your cheek into your shoulder. “Billy,” you fuss. 

He removes your hands and instead takes them in him, pulling you down the beach with him. When you get to the water, Billy watches you wade out until it’s knee deep, trying to keep his eyes away from your ass. 

He thinks you look fucking radiant like this. And he’s never actually even said that word. You’re looking down, probably for sand dollars or little fish. Billy takes this opportunity to look at your body. Not in a judgemental way by any means, but simply because he’s never gotten to see it like this. You’re being vulnerable with him, and that means more than anything else could. 

Billy wades out a little further than you and disappears beneath the waves for just a moment. When he emerges you think this is what people must have thought about Achilles. He is breathtakingly gorgeous, and it simply isn’t fair. You can’t believe that you have him. 

Billy walks you back to your umbrella and gets you nice and shielded from the sun before he heads back out to attempt surfing. He might’ve been messing with you, but it has been a few years, and he really might get his ass handed to him by the ocean. 

You’re eating a popsicle when he finally catches a wave, after having tried and failed for a little while. It’s impressive to see him up there like that, especially when you can’t even comprehend how he does it. 

You might hate the heat, and you might hate the fact that there’s sand up your ass, but you think you could sit here and watch Billy surf for hours with no complaint. It’s like he’s in his element, way more than when he played basketball. You can tell that he knows what he’s doing, that he sort of listens to the water and obeys. 

You allow yourself to imagine a future like this. One where maybe you can come back during the summers, just the two of you or maybe with Max and a friend of hers. You could never give up snow, so it couldn’t be permanent, but you could do it for Billy.

You could do anything if it meant getting to see him so happy. If it meant getting to feel so loved and so safe. It is your greatest honor to be loved by Billy Hargrove, a boy that everyone thought was incapable of loving. 

————

“Motherfucker.”

Billy’s voice echoes in the bathroom, reaching you where you lay in the bed. You can’t see him from where you are. 

It’s been a few days, and it’s gotten easier to put on that swimsuit. To look at yourself in the mirror. You’ve done a lot of thinking, a lot of listening. You might even say you’ve learned from Billy during this trip. Not that you’d boost his ego by telling him so.  

He rushes out of the bathroom and flops down in front of you, holding his hand aloft.  “Baby, I need help. I got a splinter from your goddamn umbrella. I can’t get it out.”

“What do you say, Hargrove?” You sit up, taking the tweezers from him with an evil grin on your face. 

“Pretty please?”

“That’s it.”

The second you get your eyes on the splinter, you know he just wanted attention from you. It’s big, and he could’ve just pulled it out with his fingernails. But you’re touched he wanted your help. That says a lot more than he probably realizes. 

You grip the edge of the teeny wood piece and gently pull it out from under his skin. You place it in the palm of his hand. “Ta-da.”

He snorts, and you kiss the tip of his finger. “All better now?”

“Yep.”

He slips into bed with you soon after, and you can’t help but sit up on your knees, just so you can get a good look at him. 

The freckles under his eyes have become loads more prominent, and they spread over his shoulders and collarbones like someone’s dumped glitter all over him. 

He lets you look at him, too, just admiring you in the moment. You look sleepy, beat from being out all day, from driving around to see where Billy grew up, but he thinks you’ve never looked prettier. He tells you so and you use his hand to shield your face. 

It makes Billy laugh, and he pushes your head gently, knowing you’ll go all dramatic and fall back, and when you do you end up in his lap. 

You curl up like a cat, wrapping your arms around him so you can rest your head on his tummy and splay your fingers out over his warm back. You change positions quickly though, propping your chin up with your hands. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” Billy says, swiping a thumb over the apple of your cheek. It’s a light enough touch that it tickles.

“Don’t have to thank me. I wanted to.”

He exhales. “I know, but I also know it’s been hard for you, being in your head all the time.”

“It’s okay. You’re helping.”

He smirks. “Oh yeah?”

“Mhm.” You scoot up and tuck yourself into his side. You might not even need a blanket with all the heat he radiates. “Much too good to me,” you mutter, kissing his chest. 

“You deserve it.”

He feels you grin against his skin, bashful as ever no matter how long you’ve known each other. 

Billy moves onto his side and entangles himself with you, holding you tight to his chest. 

You reciprocate the hold, squeezing a little to tell him you love him. “Thank you for bringing me home. I can see how happy you are here.”

“I’d be happy anywhere as long as you were there too.”

You snort. “That’s so cheesy.”

“It’s true, though.” 

“I know it is.” You’re silent for a minute before you remember. “We gotta get Max a prize before we leave.”

“Oh yeah, bring the little shit a gift.”

“She deserves a prize for having helped me pick out a bathing suit.”

Billy contemplates your statement. “Hm. Yeah, that works. So what do I get then, huh?”

“My eternal love.”

“Oh. I was hoping you’d like, take me to dinner or something.”

“Talk about being a little shit,” you mumble, sleep taking over. For the first time, you aren’t worried about going to the beach tomorrow. You aren’t worried about what squish Billy might be able to feel, holding you like this. You feel comfortable. Maybe you’re not completely in love with yourself, but with Billy around, you might get there one day. For now, that’s enough. It’s more than enough. 

“Eternal love it is then.”

————

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