#it’s just. a lot of big days in a row and i don’t always have that kind of energy

[mars-ipan]

finally in bed, about halfway unpacked. all my clothes r out at least, it’s mostly just getting tech set up + decorations that i have left. my head hurts (tired), my legs hurt (sore from squatting and lifting), and i really need to purchase both a mattress protector and a foam cover (uncomfortable), but hey i’m here

[toruro]

— ✧ back to december

a part of flower me with love ... an hhu unit x flowers collection !

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), fluff, angst (resolved!), best friends to strangers to lovers

description: it's been four months and twenty-two days since you've last talked to mingyu, however your mother still thinks you two are friends. you don't have the heart to tell her what really happened, and now you think it's time for you to move on. (un?)fortunately for you though, mingyu seems to have other plans.

inspired by back to december by taylor swift!

tags: miscommunication, unrequited love (not fr though), big dick mingyu, sex in a car >_<, riding, fingering, pet names (angel, pretty), creampie :3

w/c: 4.3k

a/n: happy birthday @gyuswhore!!! this fic is for em but if not em and ur reading it i hope u enjoy too. this is like 2/3 plot and 1/3 smut if anyone cares

Normality is bliss.

That’s what you used to tell yourself. That’s what you used to believe.

Normality was bright mornings, crisp air, slow walking down the main street, inhaling the ambrosial scent of freshly roasted coffee beans, and slipping under the fairy lights that hang over the door. It was the warm sound of the overhead bell ringing, permeating laughter in the cafe from all customers, and daisies in a pot by the entrance.

Normality was Mingyu. His bright laugh as you approach the counter, sweet voice as he playfully asks you what drink you’d like, to which you roll your eyes and respond with, “You already know, don’t you?” It was the chuckle he would let out, the wink he flashed at you, murmuring the words, “It’s on the house” (because with Mingyu, it was always on the house), the thanks you give him before stepping back.

Normality was the latte he handed you, rough yet ginger fingers brushing over your palm as he warned you, “Careful, it’s hot,” and the giggle you let out when you stepped back and asked how his morning was going. It was Mingyu telling you nothing special happened yet. It was Mingyu suggesting that you two hang out at the field after he’s done with work. It was you grinning and agreeing in an instant, but only under the condition that he picks you up after your class.

Normality was bliss until four months and twenty-two days ago.

Now, normality hurts like a bitch.

Your mother glances at you from the corner of her vision as you rummage through the fridge. “What’re you looking for?”

“Some bread,” you murmur. “Was really craving a tomato sandwich … Damn, we’re seriously out of white bread?” you ask, giving up with a sigh as you close the door and face her.

She shrugs. “If it’s not in the fridge then I guess so. We’re low on produce too actually … I’d be surprised if you find tomatoes in there too,” she says. You purse your lip, shuffling through the different rows of cabinets to find something to throw together to take for lunch as your mother continues to speak. “You think you could stop by the grocery store after class today and pick up some stuff?”

“Yeah sure,” you reply casually.

“Ah, I wish Mingyu still stopped by with the groceries,” your mother says, and the sudden mention of his name has you halting your movements as you reach for a croissant, before you inhale deeply and go back to doing your own thing.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, clearing your throat after the word comes out horsley.

“You know why he stopped doing that?”

You try not to think about how you still haven’t told your mother that you and Mingyu don’t talk anymore.

“Uhh, I guess uni’s been getting to be a lot of work,” you tell her. “We’re both taking way harder classes so, uh, I guess he doesn’t have the time.”

“Hmm, yeah makes sense. You’re always swamped up in that room of yours ‘cause of work too … haven’t seen you two hang out in a while actually.”

You chew on your lip, staring down at your little bag for lunch and the croissant that sits inside. You wonder if you’ll even have the appetite to eat anything today after this conversation.

“We’re just busy. It’s harder to talk now.” It’s not entirely a lie. Grabbing the bag and picking up your backpack, you turn to face your mother who’s scrolling on her phone. “I’m gonna go now. My first class is starting soon.”

Now, normality is huffing as you get into your car, wishing you had a coffee next to you, but being too full of cowardice to head over to the cafe.

(“Go to a different cafe!” is what common sense would tell you, but common sense doesn’t listen to a love that has been betrayed. No other latte tastes the same, but you know that’s only because no other latte has been made by Mingyu.)

You pick up groceries on the way home.

Now, normality is staring at the daisies that are on display as you walk through the front doors of the store and reminiscing. It’s wondering what once was, and what could have been, if you decided to keep your silly feelings to yourself.

Normality is regretting. Regretting ever opening your mouth and telling Mingyu four months and twenty-two days ago that you loved him, and that you had loved him for not one, not two, not five, but ten damn years, because that was when you two met, and you always loved Kim Mingyu, but you should have known that not once did he love you back. Not how you would’ve wanted anyways.

Normality is wondering. Wondering if Mingyu would still be dropping off groceries if you hadn’t told him that you loved him, if he hadn’t told you he didn’t know what to tell you. Wondering if he thinks of you now. Wondering if he has any regrets. Wondering if he’s okay, but you lost the chance to know the answer to that question four months and twenty-two days ago. Wondering if—

Tomatoes. You need to buy the tomatoes, and the bread, some green beans, spinach, bell pepper, and more cheese, milk, maybe some butter, and—what was it that your mother told you to get? Oh, some strawberries.

You need to get all of these things, but there were no daisies on the list, so how did a bouquet full of them end up in your cart? You tell yourself you picked them up because they’re on sale, but you know the real reason is because you miss Mingyu.

Directing your attention back to the list you were sent on your phone, you hum lowly to yourself as you push your cart through the aisles. Checking items off your notes app, you exist with just yourself, your tomatoes, and fresh daisies as you try and finish these groceries before it gets too late into the evening.

Staring at your screen, you almost don’t notice that the dairy aisle isn’t empty until you bump into someone. “Sorry,” you mutter quickly, “I—” The words get caught in your throat when you see just exactly who you’ve hit.

Averting your gaze quickly, you wonder if Mingyu will respond, but you choose to scurry away quickly instead, because as cowardly as it sounds, you’re not sure if you’re ready to hear his voice again.

You’re not sure why your heart beats so fast when you escape into another aisle. Maybe it’s because you couldn’t read the look on his face for the brief second that your eyes met.

(Ten years of being best friends and you somehow don’t know what he’s thinking. Can four months and twenty-two days really change a person that much? Or did you never know Kim Mingyu in the first place?)

When you get home, your mother asks you where you got the daisies from. You tell her Mingyu gave them to you, because you want to convince her that you two are still best friends, and maybe—just maybe—you’re trying to convince yourself of it too.

You decide to buy a latte five days later. Mingyu never worked the evening shifts, so you’re confident you’ll get one of the other’s as the barista if you walk in past 6pm. Seokmin’s always nice. He doesn’t make the latte’s as sweet as you like—more specifically, as sweet as Mingyu made them—but he’s kind and always cheery.

When you walk in today, the pot by the door is empty. There are no more daisies, and you wonder if this is what has become of normality.

Your eyes glaze over the familiar setting, breathing in the sweet, rusty smell of coffee, and you smile watching all the cafe-goers laugh along with each other in their seats. All is going well, and you’re telling yourself that maybe this new normal isn’t too bad. That you’ve lived with it for four months and twenty-seven days, and so you can live with it longer and—

Your heart plummets when you see who's working the register today.

Maybe you really never knew Kim Mingyu, because you swore he hated the evening shifts, but here he is with a neatly tied apron, smiling while he talks to some girl across the counter. And his toothy grin is so bright and you aren’t sure if you’re seeing things correctly because everything sound has turned to a white rush in your ears and your vision blurs because you are once again awarded the painful reminder that you are in love with Kim Mingyu.

You thought your heart broke right in two back in December, but you hear it crack in this moment and realize that this was the final blow.

There are tears in your eyes, and you don’t know how long you stand there, until you hear your name. Seokmin is calling for you, and when you look up there’s no girl at the counter and it’s just Mingyu and Seokmin staring at you.

And you wonder briefly if you should be glad that Mingyu looks concerned but you don’t have time to dwell on the fact because Seokmin calls for you again—“Hey, are you okay? You—you’re crying”—and fuck, you’ve just humiliated yourself, so with fat tears hitting the dark wood ground you turn on your heel and rush out the door.

You keep thinking and wondering and regretting and you hate it all because regret has become normality, but regret is not a bliss.

You walk down the street, and you keep walking and walking and walking until you realize you forgot where you parked the car but none of that matters because all you’re thinking about is Mingyu’s smile, and how he doesn’t smile at you anymore. And so you walk faster and cry a bit harder until you’re so far down the street you don’t even know where you are anymore but it doesn’t matter because you don’t know who you’ve become.

And there’s footsteps thudding behind you��are you going to get kidnapped now? Fuck, you’ve already had the most horrendous sequence of events that could possibly happen to you in the span of five minutes, and now it’s going to get worse? If this goddamn kidnapper could just target you any other day, then maybe you wouldn’t whip around with tearful eyes, shouting into the dark: “Please don’t kidnap me! I’ll go with you any other day but—Mingyu!?”

His tall figure is hunched over, hands over his thighs as he heaves for breath, craning his neck to look up at you. “Kidnap you? Why in the world would I kidnap you?” he asks through harsh breaths. “Fuck, you walk so fast,” he groans, finally standing up as you furiously wipe your tears away in an attempt to actually make sense of this situation.

“I—” You want to reply, but then it hits you that this is the first time Mingyu has spoken to you in four months and twenty-seven days, and the thought is dizzying. “I don’t know,” you tell him, because you really don’t know. You don’t know a damn thing.

Mingyu looks at you with a look that you, once again, can’t seem to read. “Sorry, I—I wanted to see if you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, and anyone would be able to see through the lie but you’re hoping that Mingyu doesn’t pry any further. He doesn’t move, nor does he say anything. “You can, uh, go back now,” you add, rubbing the back of your neck as you stare at the ground. “I’m okay.”

“You—you were crying.”

Opening your mouth to protest, you realize you can’t refute him now. Not when it was so painfully obvious. You choose silence instead, hoping that your apprehension will be enough to drive him away, although it only seems to egg Mingyu on.

You don’t expect the words he blurts out after a few moments of thickness.

“You don’t know how much I wish I could go back to December and change things.”

“Please don’t lie to me Mingyu,” you tell him, and he can just hear from the way you say his name that you are desperately pleading with him. When you finally look up at him with glossy eyes, he wonders how in the world he let things get this far.

“I’m not lying, I—I wouldn’t lie about this.”

“What do you mean by this, Mingyu? What is this?” You cover your face and begin to sob, but not without gasping out words between heavy breaths. “Please don’t do this to me, not again.”

And when you uncover your face and look at him again, he’s got some bewildered look on his face, and you can’t tell what he’s going to say next.

“The girl,” Mingyu starts to say. “That’s my cousin. She was visiting me at work and—”

“It’s not about the girl, Mingyu!” And that’s a bit of a lie because some part of it is about the girl but it’s mainly about you and it’s mainly about Mingyu—mainly about the two of you.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and speaks. “Sorry, I—you’re right.”

Silence once more, before you calm your breaths and shake your head. “You should head back, Mingyu.”

“No I—wait, I just—I’m not lying. I regret everything I did in December.”

“Ming—”

“No, please listen to me. I regret not telling you how I actually felt, but I was so confused,” he tells you, repeating your name. “I was confused and fucking terrified because if things didn’t work out for some reason, then I would’ve lost my best friend but—but I was fucking stupid and lost you anyways. And you know, I wanted to reach out. I wanted to talk to you so bad but then like last week, when I saw you in the grocery store, and—daisies.”

“Daisies?” You furrow your brows.

“Daisies. You had a bouquet of them in your cart,” Mingyu tells you, taking a step forward. “And I know how much you love daisies. Your favorite flowers in the world. I saw them in your cart and thought to myself, fuck, I missed my chance, because I thought you had them for someone else and—”

“They weren’t,” you blurt out. “I-I even told my mom you got me them,” you add bashfully, “because she doesn’t know we stopped … yeah.”

There’s a silence that sits between you two, but you’re starting to realize that silence has become normality and you are no longer content with that.

“Mingyu, do you love me?”

He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “More than you love daisies.”

You laugh through your drying tears. You laugh so hard it makes you cry no longer because of pain but because of happiness, and you shake your head and throw your arms around him. “Kim Mingyu, that is a bold statement.”

“What can I say?” he grins. “I’m a bold man.”

“Where was that bold man for the past four months and twenty-seven days?” you snort.

Mingyu raises a brow. “You’ve been counting?” For a moment your expression falls but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Don’t worry—I’ve been too.”

You two are quick to head back, Mingyu begging Seokmin to hold the first alone for the weekend before taking the wheel of your car and driving you both to your favorite field of daisies.

“Are we going to have sex for the first time in your car?” Mingyu asks with a chuckle, climbing into the backseat from one end while you pile in from the other.

Giggling, you meet his lips for a kiss as soon as the door shuts behind him, arms winding around his thick neck to bring him close. “The way you said that insinuates there we’ll be having more sex after this,” you tell him with a smile before diving back into another tongue twisting kiss.

“Hell yeah,” Mingyu groans against your tongue as you adjust to situate yourself over his lap, hips pressing dangerously close to his. “Gonna fuck you every day if I can. If you can handle that,” he adds.

You roll your eyes, pulling back to help yourself out of the cardigan and shirt you’re wearing. “What makes you think I can’t handle it?”

He only flashes you a toothy grin and quickly glances down at his groin area before winking at you. “You’ll see.”

“Kim Mingyu, you are a little shit,” you conclude despite the way your tummy churns at his insinuation, throwing off your shirt as Mingyu helps you out of a bra.

“I’m not little, that’s for sure … fuck, you’ve got the prettiest tits in the world,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your torso to pull you closer so he can plant his lips on the soft flesh. His mouth is warm, tongue tracing constellations over our skin before enclosing one of your nipples with his lips.

Slowly, his tongue traces circles around the stiffened nipple, teeth grazing over it ever so gently before biting down with slight force. “Ah!” you moan out, head thrown back as your hands travel up his neck and into his hair, fisting the thick, dark locks. “‘m sensitive, ‘gyu,” you tell him, shaky-breathed as he pulls his mouth off your tits with a slip popping sound.

“Sorry,” he says with a lazy smile. “Your tits are so nice,” Mingyu murmurs, bringing a hand up to squeeze over your other breast, tweaking the nipple in one hand as your hands begin to play with the hem of his tight fit shirt. “Fuck, can’t believe we didn’t fuck earlier. You know how much time we could’ve saved?” he says, pulling away just for a moment to peel the shirt off his body, revealing his firm, thick torso.

“I wonder whose fault that is?” You roll your eyes.

Mingyu frowns in response. “Don’t remind me … angel, take off your pants. Wanna finger you.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, because in an instant your hands are at the waistband of your pants as heat rises to your cheeks upon hearing his words. Just the thought of Mingyu’s thick, longer fingers inside your aching cunt is enough for it to pulse around nothing as you throw your pants to the side and shove your panties to reveal your core.

“Atta girl,”  he murmurs under his breath as you readjust yourself over his lap so that he can have better access between your legs. Slowly, he brings one hand up to your exposed cunt, bringing his middle finger to circle around your gaping hole. “Shit, you’re so wet, angel … so wet for me.”

“Just for you ‘gyu, just for you” you gasp out when he sinks one finger in, rough pads rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.

Now Mingyu occasionally entertains the outrageous idea that he’s well composed, but he’d be a fool to deny that, even though he can turn you to mush in the palm of his hand, you also have him wrapped around your little finger.

You only have to beg him once or twice for a second finger before he’s giving in, wanting nothing more than to spoil you until you can’t even remember what you were asking for in the first place. And naturally, when you finally tell him that you’re ready for more—ready for his cock—he can’t help but grin and comply.

“You think you’re ready?” he asks, slipping his fingers out and shoving them into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

“You think I’m not?” you mumble around his fingers. You pout a little and Mingyu chuckles, leaning in to give you a wet and sloppy kiss before lifting his hips a little.

“You’ll see angel … help me take this all off,” he tells you, and you’re quick to grab at his waistband and yank his pants and boxers down at the same time.

“What are you talking ab—oh.” The words dry on your tongue when you see his cock spring out, from underneath his boxers, the thickness slapping against Mingyu’s abdomen.

It’s fat and long and veiny in all the right places, heavy balls resting at the base of it, the reddish-pink tip smeared all over with his shiny, translucent white precum.

“Yeah,” Mingyu says with yet another chuckle, watching your face as you gaze down at his cock in awe.

“I-is it gonna fit?” you ask incredulously, eyes glancing back and forth between the smirk on Mingyu’s lips and the long length of his cock. Mingyu just shrugs and smooths his hands over your hips, your stomach, and then your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss.

Your stomach flutters, cunt growing more and more needy and wet as the seconds tick by, and the way Mingyu’s tongue flicks against yours only heightens the feeling. When he pulls away, he settles his hands over your waist and directs you right over his cock, and something in you swells with pure arousal with the next words he says.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll make it fit. You trust me?”

“Yeah,” you breath out, steadying your position as Mingyu uses one hand to guide his heavy length so that the tip points upwards and presses right against you.

“Fuck yeah,” he hisses, and you moan as you feel him sliding against your folds in a slippery, sticky mess. “old onto me, yeah angel? If you want to stop just—”

“Say the word,” you finish for him, placing your hands on Mingyu’s bare shoulders as an attempt to steady yourself, breath hitching as his length pushes into your entrance. “Oh shit, ‘gyu!" you cry out as you begin to sink down on him.

Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes—you can’t even fathom how, even after all his prep, Mingyu still feels like he’s nearly splitting you in half.

“Fuck, pretty—you’re so fucking tight,” Mingyu grunts, helping you nearly impale yourself on his cock. “Fucking fitting inside you so well,” he praises as he bottoms out inside of you, letting your forehead fall to his shoulder as you take deep breath.

Mingyu knows he’s big—knows it’s hard to fit him inside of you—and he’s feels so fucking lucky that he has you—so willing to take all that he’s giving—sucking him in and whining for more. He waits a few moments, only listening to the way your heavy breaths start to grow lighter, until you’re whimpering a soft, “‘gyu.”

He wastes no time in jerking his hips upward, shifting inside of you and battering the inside of your soft walls. You bite down on his shoulder as you push your hips down to meet his thrusts, choking back soft sobs as you feel his cock kiss your cervix with each movement.

“Holy shit,” Mingyu grunts as you begin to bounce on his lap, his length slipping out of you halfway before being plunged right back in with a sopping mess growing on his thighs.

You whine loudly at the overwhelming pleasure that takes over your body, lifting your head up so you could look at Mingyu with your mouth agape and hair stuck all over your burning face, a sheer layer of sweat starting to envelope both your bodies.

Soon, both of your movements begin to grow erratic and sloppy, hips jamming into each other so hard you’d be surprised if you even have the ability to walk tomorrow. You now know why Mingyu was concerned about fucking every day.

“You g’na cum soon pretty? Cum all over my cock? I can feel it angel, can feel your pretty cunt squeezing me.”

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you manage to gasp out, “Yeah, ’m gonna cum—feels so good, so full, so—fuck!”

Mingyu’s cock pulses inside of you and that’s when every detail seems to be heightened to a thousand—as your orgasm racks through you, you seem to feel every curve, every vein, dragging in and out of you to such detail that it has your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you scream out his name.

Mingyu watches you fall apart, surrendering to bliss, and the way your hips are sporadically swiveling over his, your pussy’s wetness coating and creaming his cock has him going into a frenzy. Frantically, he begins to snap his hips faster up into you, your soft moans of overstimulation pushing him to his end faster than he can ever imagine. Watching the way he slides in and out of you is enough to have him cumming, shooting his hot, sticky load inside your warm cunt.

Riding out the last of his orgasm with soft rolls of his hips, Mingyu sighs contently at the feeling of you milking him dry, the both of you looking down at the wet, dirty mess you’ve made where the two of you connect, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

Both of you finally look up at the same time, grinning at each other, and you flop forward resting your head on his chest as he slowly combs his fingers through your hair, other hand running up and down your back.

“Why’d you start working the evening shifts?” you ask Mingyu after your breath has finally leveled. “I thought you hated those.”

“I did, but you stopped coming in the mornings, and I figured it was because of me. I hoped that maybe you would start coming in the evenings so I asked my boss to change my regular shifts just in case.”

“Oh wow, you really do love me.”

“I already told you I do! Even more than you love daisies, remember?”

[sim0nril3y]

I have an ask for Simon and civi reader! What if he comes home from work one day and is just so sore and physically tired. Maybe he always picks reader up during a special hug or whateves. But tonight he doesn’t do it and thinks nothing of it. Then the following days he notices reader walking/ working out more and eating less? He finds out what is going on and proves to her even when he’s tired he will always be able to pick her up and just needs to prove her wrong 🥵

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Note: This was a great request, I had a lot of fun writing it. Thank you so much for suggesting this! Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), weight mentioned, anxiety, angst, diet talk, body talk, confidence issues, comfort, canon-typical swearing.

It was like some pavlovian response to hearing the door opening, you would sprint from wherever you were in your home to greet Simon at the door, jumping into his arms, having him hold you tight and then carry you to where he was originally heading, the kitchen, the lounge, the bedroom… it didn’t matter because he was home and you were in his strong arms, so safe, so secure.

It was the same each and every time. Like clockwork the front door would click open and off you ran, grinning whilst leaping into his arms. Simon would chuckle, holding you securely, asking you about your day, or complimenting you on some tiny little detail hadn't expected him to notice.

It was always the same, except today…

Today you heard the door click open and you rushed from downstairs to greet him at the door. Simon had been placing down his gym bag when you leapt into his arms. "Mn."

You heard it… a little grunt in the back of his throat as his arms tied around you and then… then your feet were in the floor again, his lips on your forehead and he stepped past you. “You hungry? I'll get started on tea.” Simon mentioned as he headed away on his own, arms empty and you left reeling in the hallway. What the hell just happened?

As you sat there eating dinner with Simon your mind was spirally. He’d grunted when you’d jumped into his arms. Had you put on weight? Maybe… but… Simon just seemed so strong almost nothing seemed to faze him… but maybe he was just pretending all those times and really you were too heavy for him to be carrying around… Oh god, maybe you needed to lose weight then? Maybe you’d start now…

You took a last bite of the amazing dinner that Simon had prepared for you and left half a plate of food on your plate. Simon glanced over at you with a quirk on his brow. “Don’t you like it?” He quizzed tapping his fork to your plate and then pushing it back in your direction.

“Uh, no. It’s really nice, but I had a bit of a big lunch.” Replying with a little shake of your head. You despised lying to him, mostly because you were bad at him, but Simon didn’t seem to fight you this time.

The next couple of days continued the same way, additionally you didn’t come greet him with that usual enthusiasm, you’d come to greet him at the door but you were more reserved, certainly not jumping into his arms. As the two of you sat eating dinner you stopped yourself at half the hearty portion he’d given you.

“Alright, what is going on?” Simon asked then as you pushed your plate aside again for the fourth day in a row. “I’m not accepting whatever excuse you’ve cooked up tonight about not eating dinner…”

“What?” You muttered with a little shake of your head. “I’m just not hungry-” “Bollocks.” Simon responded with a roughness to his voice. “It’s been four days… You’ve been waking up before the sun to go to the gym, thinking I haven’t been noticing… cutting back on your meals. You think I haven’t noticed but I have and I’m getting worried. So, you’re gonna tell me what is going on…” You pursed your lips. “Now.”

After a few more moments of hesitation, you suddenly blurted out your reasoning, it was a mess of words mixed with emotion that broken in your voice. “When you got home the other night I jumped into your arms and you grunted.” You informed him, rushed like you didn’t want to say these things along. “I don’t wanna get too heavy that I hurt you when I jump into your arms-”

“Hold on.” Simon held up his hand then. “I grunted when I picked you up?” He asked, thinking back… it really hadn’t been something that had registered his mind, but to think it had been torturing you so much that it had restricted your food intake haunted Simon. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I pulled a muscle in my side doing some training at base.” He explained looking at you then with honesty. “Babe, I can deadlift almost double your weight at the gym, I’m actuallya little insulted that you think I can’t carry you.”

With a huff then Simon rose up from his seat and rounded the table to take your arm and suddenly hoist you up over his shoulder with a practiced ease. “I don’t care if I have to bench press you to make you believe me, but I promise you that the problem was never with your perfect fuckin’ body.” Then he moved you to sit you on the kitchen counter, standing between your legs and cupping your face as gazed lovingly into your eyes. “But I’m sorry if I ever made you think that there was something wrong with you… I love every bloody inch of you, regardless of everything you believe to be an imperfection.”

Leaning in Simon pressed a warm kiss to your lips, tugging back to lean his forehead against your own. “Now, you’re gonna sit your arse in that chair and finished your dinner than I’m carry you upstairs and have my dessert.”

Masterlist | Ask | 29-01-2025

[mindless-existence1]

HIHIHI Could you write a Shadow x reader (romantic)who loves space and tells him all about like where which constellation n allat?

Authors note: So I don't know anything about stars so I asked my friend who does and he told me about these so if they are wrong blame him. Also thanks for sending the request!

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The night sky above Green Hills stretched endlessly, the stars twinkling like diamonds scattered across a sea of black velvet.

Shadow stood silently at the crest of a hill just outside of town, his crimson eyes fixed on the expanse above. Beside him, you were bouncing with excitement, the cold air forgotten as you pointed upward.

“You can see so much more out here,” you marveled, scanning the heavens. “No light pollution to ruin the view.”

Shadow glanced at you, his expression neutral, though a faint softness lingered in his gaze. “That’s why I brought you here. You mentioned wanting a better look.

Your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. Despite his gruff demeanor, Shadow always had a way of making you feel seen and appreciated. You plopped onto the soft grass and patted the spot next to you.

“Come on, sit with me. You can’t just stand there brooding all night.” With a quiet huff, Shadow lowered himself beside you, his movements deliberate and measured.

He rested his arms on his knees, his attention split between you and the stars.“Okay,” you began, pointing to the sky.

“That’s Orion’s Belt right there—see the three stars in a row? And over there is Taurus, the bull. You can tell by the V-shape of its horns.” Shadow followed your gestures, his eyes narrowing slightly as he traced the patterns you described.

“You know a lot about this,” he remarked, his tone calm but intrigued. “Oh, you haven’t even heard the half of it,” you replied, grinning.

“Space is fascinating. Did you know that Betelgeuse, one of the stars in Orion, is a red supergiant? It’s so big that if it replaced our sun, it would extend past Jupiter!”

Shadow tilted his head, his lips quirking in what might have been the beginnings of a smile. “I see why you find it interesting,” he said. “It’s… vast.”

You nodded enthusiastically, launching into an explanation about black holes and neutron stars, your voice animated as you shared fact after fact.

Shadow listened intently, his silence encouraging you to keep going. At one point, you paused, glancing over at him.

“Am I talking too much?” Shadow shook his head. “No. I prefer this to silence.”His answer warmed you, and you turned your attention back to the sky.

“You know,” you said after a moment, “the universe is so big and full of mysteries. It makes you feel small, but in a good way. Like, even the worst day doesn’t matter on a cosmic scale.”

Shadow considered this, his gaze drifting upward. “Maybe that’s why I’ve always liked the stars,” he admitted softly.

“They’re constant. Unchanging.” You smiled, leaning your shoulder against his. “And beautiful. Like you, when you’re not scowling.”

He gave you a sideways glance, the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his cheeks. “I don’t scowl that much,” he muttered.

You giggled, reaching out to lightly squeeze his hand. “Thanks for bringing me here, Shadow. It means a lot.”

He hesitated for a moment before entwining his fingers with yours. “You’re welcome,” he said simply, his voice low but sincere.

For the rest of the night, you continued pointing out constellations and sharing everything you knew about the cosmos, while Shadow sat quietly, content just to be by your side.

[gallaghersgal]

SUMMER SNOW j. hughes x pop star!reader

TAGS & WARNINGS → my first smau?? crazy!! fc is sabrina for most pics, reader's stage name is summer :))

SUMMARY → in the midst of your national tour, a romance brews between you and a certain devils player. shown through insta posts!

A/N → hiiii guys the hockey brainrot is so bad. quinn fic when?

liked by yourbestie, njdevils, jackhughes, 17.5m others

summermusic same arena, same weekend, same shade of red. jersey you were so sweet!

104.2k comments

yourbestie thanks for the front row seats @njdevils

njdevils any time!

user01 summer looks sooo good in red

njdevils jersey magic 😉

user02 i love summer and i love the devs this is amazing

user03 oh she’s a hughes fan okay

user04 ugh imagine they dated

user05 that’s so far from reality dude 💀

user06 imagine!!!

liked by summersmusic, teamsummer, jackhughes, 550.7k others

njdevils two icons in red 🏒💋

15.8k comments

summersmusic 💋⛸️ (❤️ by creator)

user01 didn’t know admin was a summer fan!

user02 wait… there have been rumors about summer and a hockey player…

user03 bro don’t push it

user02 i’m just saying. does admin know something we don’t?

user04 MY FAVS

liked by vogue, yourbestie, jackhughes, 10.3m others

summersmusic put a lot of love into this one. “loyal” is yours at midnight 💋

77.7k comments

yourbestie photo creds where (❤️ by creator)

summersmusic sorry queen!

taylorswift love this one! (❤️ by creator)

user01 my jack x summer brain is going crazy over these lyrics

user02 NO FR

user03 “think i finally found a man that’s loyal” ugh i need what they have

user04 they aren’t together?

user03 they are in my head

user05 he liked it too!

story by summersmusic

liked by lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, yourbestie, 101.6k more

jackhughes time off on the slopes

8.2k comments

lhughes_06 where's the video of you busting your ass? (❤️ by creator)

jackhughes pipe down

user01 jack and summer soft launches on the same day?? what timeline are we in cause i love it

user02 I HAVE NO ONE TO TALK TO ABOUT THIS!!

user06 AND HE USED ONE OF SUMMERS SONGS

njdevils always good on ice 🏂 (❤️ by creator)

yourbestie ❄️🧚‍♀️

user03 HELLO?

user04 ariana what are u DOING HERE

user05 she's a big devs fan! thats why she went with summer to the game

liked by jackhughes, yourbestie, vogue, 15.5m others

summersmusic ice princess ⛸️

108.3k comments

yourbestie and why wasn't i invited? (❤️ by creator)

user01 PLS THIS IS CLEARLY A DATE

user02 their friendship is everything to me

jackhughes i could show you a thing or two on the ice (❤️ by creator)

user06 i can’t tell if he’s shooting his shot or implying they’re together 💔

user07 choosing to believe they’re dating

user03 straight to the jacksummer evidence file (❤️ by creator)

user04 NOT A DRILL SHE LIKED THIS ONE TOO

vogue maybe winter is your season

user05 and with loyal as the song. people died!!

liked by summersmusic, yourbestie, lhughes_06, _quinnhughes 126.3k others

jackhughes i’ve got summer on a snowy day ❤️

101.7k comments

summersmusic ur gf kinda cute (❤️ by creator)

summersmusic dedicating my next album to u (❤️ by creator)

jackhughes i can't wait

yourbestie this secret was SO hard to keep

_quinnhughes lovebirds 🙄 (❤️ by creator)

njdevils match made in new jersey ⛸️❤️

user05 ew 😭

user01 AWW WITH THE HEART 🥹

lhughes_06 so do we get free concert tickets now or…

teamsummer stop by any time!

user03 i’m not breathing until summer releases her hard launch too

summersmusic PLEASE BREATHE I’LL POST RN

user03 HAHA SUMMER ILY!!!

user04 ugh she rlly is the people’s pop princess i love her sm

user02 oh i KNOW summer wrote the caption

liked by vogue, jackhughes, yourbestie, 32.6m others

summersmusic u guys were right, loyal is about him

10.8. comments

jackhughes my girl (❤️ by creator)

summersmusic mmhm baby

yourbestie cant believe my wife is wifed up (❤️ by creator)

trevorzegras oh jack pulled.

summersmusic 🤭

lhughes_06 can you write a song about me (❤️ by creator)

user01 YESSS

user02 THIS is my roman empire

user03 they’re literally so fucking cute

© gallaghersgal, 2025. images from pinterest. div. cred (x)

THX 4 READING → loosely beta'd by @notsonian my love <33

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

a story told in multiple parts

vi x reader

Info Post

Moodboards

Next Part

Contains: college au, dark/light academia, writer reader, singer reader, neurodivergent/autistic reader (i’m autistic so i’m writing from my own experiences), sporty vi, hockey player vi, big sister caitlyn, best friend ellie williams, roommate ellie williams, will contain other familiar characters you know and love as well as some potential ocs. no use of y/n, reader does have a name because it’s just easier for me to write that way �� ALSO- Jayce is aged down because I want him to be 😌

WC: 4.5k

TW: talk of severe mental illness and brief mention of psychiatric facilities

A/N: chapter one is officially live! if you’re just stumbling across this and haven’t checked the main info post yet please do for more info! hope you enjoy! 🖤

part I

you’re on your own, kid

Whenever most people got acceptance letters to Oxford they were ecstatic, elated, overjoyed. Somehow whenever I got mine all I felt was a sense that I had failed. It was a juxtaposition of course, it was always expected from my family that I attend the same university they had and every other generation before them had. So in a way I had done the opposite, just maybe not in the right order, and a hefty amount of rejection letters in my midst. Including the one currently being held in my shaky hand right now.

Ms. Kiramman,

Thank you for submitting your manuscript to our publication house. Unfortunately right now we are unable to offer you an opportunity for further publication.

“Please, they wouldn’t know good literature if it hit them in the face.” Caitlyn scoffed from her spot next to me as the student shuttle jostled us in our row of seats.

“Is every other publication house that denied me unable to recognize good literature as well?” I whispered from where my cheek stayed pressed to her shoulder.

I know what a lot of you were probably thinking at first glance, but Caitlyn was a good big sister. She was harsh, severely left brained, exactly everything our parents wanted in a child, and quite possibly the polar opposite of me. But in all honesty she was my best friend. My biggest supporter whenever my parents weren’t. It was her who had harassed all of those literary agents to even get me the chance to submit my works to publication houses in the first place because I was too scared to do it. And it was I who failed every single time.

“Yeah actually, they are. Honestly Mills, there’s so much trash in modern day poetry right now you might be better off.” She sighed, reaching a hand over to click my phone off slowly as the shuttle rumbled to a stop. “This is you!” She tried to plaster on a fake cheery voice with a pat on my back as if to get me to finally lift my head where my cheek was already an irritated red for being hid in her sweater.

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just let Ellie and I take the extra room in that big student house you just moved into.” I huffed, lifting a hand to readjust my glasses before rising up to my feet and reaching for one of the suitcases carelessly tossed on one of the adjacent rows of seats.

“Because lovey, you need to make some of your own friends. This is uni, Millie, we’re both in completely different colleges and I just- I don’t want you to get too lonely.” She frowned, glancing back at me as she rolled the other suitcase behind her. “You guys don’t wanna room with a bunch of upperclassmen anyways.”

“I do have my own friends, I have Ellie.”

“As much as she is a great roommate, friends besides Ellie, it’s good to have more than just two whole people on campus to talk to.” Caitlyn pressed on just before striding towards the entrance, leaving me feeling like I needed to speed walk just to keep up given the fact she was nearly a foot taller as well.

The student apartments were definitely nicer than the usual underclassman dorms. In all honesty I really should’ve been grateful, it was just another luxury of being a Kiramman. Whenever your parents paid for half of the buildings on campus you usually got better accommodations. Not that either of them originally liked the idea of me even rooming with Ellie. A loudmouthed foreign exchange student from America I met during another one of those incredibly expensive wellness retreats my parents sent me on to see if they could find a ‘cure’ for what was actually just a heavy amount of autism and severe ADHD.

The only person who really seemed to understand that there wasn’t one and it was just simply who I was was Caitlyn. To a degree as much as she could at least. Sometimes though I could tell she forgot.

“I think Ellie said she beat us a while ago.” She chimed in as we approached the door decorated with a slightly chipped gold number.

“She got here early because of hockey stuff.” I answered, already bouncing on the balls of my feet to see how she had managed to make the flat into a sea of chaos already. She wasn’t exactly the cleanest person, luckily her energy seemed to mesh with mine easily enough though.

“Oh! You never mentioned she made the hockey team! I know a few girls on the team you could probably talk to.” She shot a hopeful smile back at me before lifting a fist to knock on the door.

It swung open before she could even make a second tap to reveal a frazzled looking Ellie haphazardly clutching a hockey stick. “Thank God you’re here! I was trying to practice my swing and- fuck, we are so not getting that deposit back, Millie.”

“Oh dear god.” Caitlyn cursed, already wincing in dread before stepping through the door into the messy flat. “I’m sure our dad can- do something. What did you manage to break and why on earth did you decide practicing your swing indoors was a good idea?”

“For your information I didn’t break anything! There’s just a- tiny dent in the wall.”

I hummed a bit to myself as I stepped over the plethora of unpacked bags currently covering the floor. “It’s definitely more than tiny.” I chimed in as I poked at the noticeable dent in the drywall.

Caitlyn released a long and heavy breath and shook her head, as if to try and keep herself from making her own dent in the wall. “It’s totally fine. I’ll just- say that it was there whenever you guys moved in!” She shrugged with another anxious clear of her throat as she pulled my luggage in behind her. “Which room is free, Els?”

“Oh, I gave her the room in the front. I know she likes it dark and the lighting in there sucks.” Ellie answered as she shuffled off behind us. “There is one window in there that can get pretty killer in the mornings.”

I tensed a bit at the sight of the double window facing towards the bed. Yet another one of the aggravating little quirks that came with my neurodivergency, light sensitivity. As far as I could remember I always preferred the darkest of places. And now Caitlyn was cursing again, rushing towards me to take my hands into her own as if I was already on the verge of panic.

“It’s okay- I can get you a pair of a blackout curtains asap and you know how dreary it is in Oxford anyways-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m not going to have a meltdown over a window.” I interrupted her ramble with a shake of my head. Sometimes I felt like she still thought I was that same teenage girl that didn’t have a handle on her emotions. Not that I was far from it exactly. Now I was just an almost 20 year old girl who had a slight hold on her emotions. That’s what the writing was for.

Her eyes still held the same amount of concern though, getting that same little crinkle in between her brows as she nodded. “Okay, I’m still getting you blackout curtains though.”

“They’ll definitely be appreciated.” I said with a forced tiny smile.

“Well, I really wish I could stay and help you unpack but I have a meeting with the Brooks Society and everything but… I really do hope I’ll see you both tonight at the pub for fresher’s week?” She grinned hopefully once more as she squeezed the life out of my hands.

“Oh, I-I don’t know. We’ve barely settled in and-”

“I’m down.” Ellie chimed in from behind me as she trotted back into the door frame. “I’m gonna be relishing in the fact I finally don’t need a fake.”

“Ellie…” I groaned as I shot her a glare over my shoulder.

“What? Mills, it’s the first day of fresher’s week, we might as well be committing a crime by not going out tonight!” She exclaimed with a dramatic throw of her hands in the air.

“It’s true, and as much as I would love to keep you away from my degenerate friends, well, it might be good for you.” Caitlyn agreed with another casual shrug.

“You’re not gonna give me a choice, are you?” I questioned causing her to shoot a knowing look towards Ellie over my shoulder.

“Probably not.” She answered before stealing a look down at the expensive watch wrapped around her wrist. “Well, I’ve gotta go but… you’ll text me if you need anything, right? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t because of what I said earlier because you always can I just-“

“Caity- it’s fine. I’m fine, I promise. I- I’ll see you tonight.” I stammered in hesitation, and I’d definitely be hearing about it later. But luckily right now she seemed willing to just let things go.

“Okay, good… great. Now- get in here, pipsqueak!” She exclaimed, the familiar nickname she had been calling me since she hit her growth spurt and I yet to do so making me roll my eyes as she pulled me into a tight hug. One of those sisterly hugs I always clung onto a bit longer. Ever since I was younger no place had felt safer than Caitlyn. And in so many ways sometimes I looked at her as being more than a mom than our actual mom. I knew I needed to find other safe places though. “I love you, you know that right? I promise. This is going to be a good thing.”

“I love you too, Caity.” I sighed softly as I felt her lips press to the top of my head before the two of us pulled away.

“Els, take care of my baby sister or else I’ll have your head on a stick? Got it?”

“Crystal?” Ellie finally spoke up again with wide eyes as her hand made the ‘okay’ symbol.

“Good.” Caitlyn spoke before trotting back off towards the front door, “I’ll see you both tonight and send you the details.” And with a charming smile she was headed out.

Ellie instantly let out a shiver the moment the door closed. “Has anyone ever told you that your sister’s scary as fuck?”

“Many times.” I answered simply just in time to see Ellie’s face fall ever so slightly.

“So, I’m guessing it was a no from the latest publication house?”

“How could you guess?” I frowned as I slumped against the wall like I was going to resign myself to the floor.

“You had that aire of discouraged defeatism whenever you walked in.” She explained as she sidled up to me. “Cheer up, Mills, modern poetry is so cringeworthy nowadays you might be better off going for songwriting anyways.” She added as she gently rubbed at my clothed arms.

“If I can’t even get a publication house to take me seriously then what makes you think I can actually get a songwriting deal?” I spoke as I finally pushed myself off of the wall.

“One of the most popular songs out right now literally has the lyrics, ‘that’s that me, espresso’ in it.” She rolled her eyes a bit to herself as she finally knelt down to grab the bags she had still yet to unpack.

“No Sabrina Carpenter slander in this apartment, Williams. You know I’m an OG. And I can relate to desperation.” I frowned in embarrassment as I crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yeah yeah yeah, come and help me unpack, will you? Maybe we can find you something to wear tonight.”

“What’s wrong with what I have on?” I exclaimed almost in mild offense as I gestured towards the outfit that definitely had been hastily picked out. But it wasn’t like it wasn’t cute- ish at least.

“Nothing, but care bear sweaters and leggings seems more like a comfy day outfit than a ‘going out to the pub’ outfit.”

“I thought it was going to be a comfy day until you completely blew my cover!”

“Sorry babe, but I agree with your scary as fuck sister on this one. You need to get out more. Experience the pleasures of fresher’s week and you can take that in any way you want!” She shot a wink over her shoulder as she made her way down the skinny hallway to kick open her own door where a brutal floor to ceiling window already angrily cast its light on the room causing me to flinch.

“We could always pretend to be girlfriends again if you want people to leave you alone in a, you know, romantic way.” Ellie added as she rushed across the room to pull the curtains shut and pat the empty space on her bed. Probably the only time it’d actually be made all semester.

“Nah, if we do that too many times people will know we’re lying so best not to even start.” I answered as I took a seat on the side of her bed.

“Well if that’s the case, how does this shirt look with… this flannel? What do you think? Chick magnet?” She grinned before whipping out a red and black checkered flannel from the mostly empty closet and pulling it on over the basic black band tee she already wore with a flourish.

“Maybe if they’re emo?” I said with a little shrug as I scanned the band logo on her t-shirt causing her to groan in defeat.

“Still… somehow… always chronically bitchless.” She voiced before plopping down on the squeaky university issued beds. Though we were at least lucky enough to have double beds, it definitely wouldn’t leave anything to the imagination if either of us decided to do any nsfw activities in them. Somehow I didn’t feel like we’d have that problem though.

“Shush, you’re not chronically bitchless. You have me!” I teased as I gave her shoulder a playful shove where she dramatically flopped onto her back.

“So bitchless then?” She reiterated with a lifted brow as she glanced over at me.

“At least you’ve actually managed to kiss a girl once or twice.” I scowled as I inched over onto my side. Already catching myself pulling closer towards her.

“Just so we’re clear, I did offer.”

“Yeah, only to get your first kiss out of the way.” I scoffed, though I curled up to her either way. Closing my eyes as I placed my head on her chest I hadn’t realized how tired I had felt in the past 24 hours. They had been rough, a sea of anxiety and those exact meltdowns that Caitlyn was afraid of me having and her not being there to talk me down from.

“And? The offer never stopped standing.” She spoke just before I could feel her arms wrapping around me.

“Good to know, Els, I’ll let you know if I ever need to get a pity kiss from my best friend.”

“Oh shut up, it’s not a pity kiss. It’s me doing you a solid.” She remarked, as she nudged my foot with her leg. “You manage to get any sleep last night?” She wondered just before letting her hands trace soothing circles on my back. I only shook my head as I felt the sting behind my eyes before I could even take any steps to stop it. The way you felt whenever you were already on the verge all day and someone finally asks if you’re okay. Curling my fingers into her flannel the annoying tears already soaked into the fabric of her shirt. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

A shake of my head only followed, I didn’t know how to put anything into words really. How to explain to people that just wouldn’t understand no matter how much they meant well and wanted to. How was someone even supposed to explain the fact that you were one of the most celebrated families of the most prestigious university in England yet somehow you still felt like the only person who didn’t belong here sat on top of a mountain of rejection letters? Perhaps you could rather easily. But to actually say the words ‘I’m pretty sure I only got in because I’m a Kiramman’ were a whole different story. It’s why I took all those years off in the first place. I wanted to delay the inevitable of my dad paying off the admissions directors again while staring at me with the level of disappointment he never had to with Caitlyn.

I hadn’t even realized the simple tears had turned into full out sobs until I heard Ellie’s gentle shush from above me and her arms holding me even tighter to her chest as she did so. “You’re gonna be okay, Mills. I promise. We’re gonna be just fine.”

~

I hadn’t even noticed I had dozed off until my eyes cracked open again, noticeably faced away from the window and tucked underneath Ellie’s covers. My glasses sat propped up on her bedside dresser already casting a noticeable blur of the world around me. Meanwhile hushed voices seemed to speak from out in the hallway, walls much too thin to hide the noise.

Fighting back a yawn I shoved myself up onto my elbow to wipe at my dysfunctional eyes before stretching a hand out to pluck my glasses from the nearby table. Though I only jumped as the door was pushed open and Caitlyn’s tall figure popped up into view. “Hey pipsqueak, Ellie told me you weren’t feeling the best after I left.” She said carefully as she grabbed my glasses to hand them over.

“I wished she wouldn’t have.” I grumbled as I slid them onto my face only to hug my knees to my chest and glue my eyes to the bedsheets below.

“Why not? Isn’t that exactly what I told you to do? Mills, I would’ve stayed-”

“But- I-I don’t wanna keep you from your responsibilities anymore, Caity!” I exclaimed with a frustrated groan, already digging at my eyes again while my head only throbbed from the aftermath. “I don’t want you to have to tell this really important college society that you can’t be there for your obligations because your mentally ill sister needs you to rescue her again!”

“You are my responsibility, Amelia!” She snapped, the use of my rarely spoken full name making me wince as she pointed a stern finger at me. “You will always be my number one priority because I’m your big sister and it’s my job to protect you, no matter what. And I don’t care what kind of deep shit I get into with the criminology department, okay? Because you come first, always!”

I tried to gulp back the same pathetic tears, but it turns out after you cry yourself to sleep for the millionth time maybe there really is a limit. “I didn’t miss anything, did I?” I spoke up after a moment of silence, feeling Caitlyn’s arm stretch around my shoulder as she took the spot next to me.

“No, but I did do some thinking and if you really don’t wanna go then I don’t wanna pressure you.” She frowned, almost looking down in mild guilt until I leaned my head against her shoulder.

“No… I do. I wanna go and make friends and new experiences and- t-try to be normal.”

“Lovey, you are normal. It’s the world that isn’t.” Caitlyn frowned as she leaned her head against mine. Thankfully she only hesitated a moment though before she cleared her throat and spoke again, “If you wanna go though we should probably start getting ready. If you want me to help you?”

“Maybe you can help me figure out what to wear? And do my hair in those little braids with the clips? And help me with my eyeliner?”

Caitlyn snickered a bit as I lifted my head from her shoulder. “The eyeliner might be a little tricky but I can certainly try. Are you forgetting the prom incident where I quite literally gave you an eye infection?”

“That was definitely just because of the glitter.” I shrugged before swinging my legs over the side of the bed and finally pushing myself up to my feet.

“The eyeliner pen straight to the cornea certainly didn’t help.” She reiterated.

Despite the various complications of having two not at all femme lesbians help me get ready though, I don’t think I looked too terrible afterwards. I had settled on a simple black dress that fell just above the knee with little bows sat atop the straps. English autumns could either be comfortable or frigid though and the current temperature definitely wasn’t comfortable so Ellie tossed me one of her blue flannels to wear over top. Of course claiming it’d be a calling card for all of the hot lesbians, if they didn’t assume we were together first.

Calling the pub a ‘pub’ in an of itself was definitely generous. Besides the one or two older people having their relaxing evening out ruined by the loudmouthed 18+ filling the joint it felt more like a club than anything. Music blasted from the speakers as we stepped inside, Caitlyn on one side with a protective arm around my shoulders and Ellie on the other who looked more and more like she was never returning to America by the second.

Caitlyn immediately dragged us downstairs where most of the students had taken over. It wasn’t hard to figure out which group of friends were hers. It was the largest one, who had currently swallowed the entire center of the room it seemed filling up leather stools and couches with red decorative pillows. “Oi! Cait! Over here!” A familiar voice echoed from the large group, popping his head over everyone and waving the lot of us over.

“Jayce? I thought he finished his masters last year.” I tried to speak over the noise where Caitlyn wrinkled her nose in response.

“He did, guess the old man just can’t get enough of us.” She answered, giving my arm a comforting squeeze as she pulled me along beside her.

The group was probably the most eccentric lot I had ever seen as we approached the cluttered table. Covered in empty and full beer bottles and other fruity drinks along with half burnt out cigarettes. A spread of tarot cards belonging to a skinny girl with the longest and brightest blue hair I had ever seen was currently being scooped up as well causing my eyes to widen in curiosity. A chorus of Caitlyn’s name followed as usual, the usual life of the party whenever I wasn’t there and she didn’t have to babysit. I had almost managed to successfully tune most of the chaotic noise out though until I heard my name followed by the tightening of Caitlyn’s arm around my shoulders once more.

“Lads, this is my baby sister, Amelia. Treat her well or else I’ll kill you slowly and painfully.” She said with a little grin just as a stool was pulled out from where a pink haired individual sat manspreading on the plush couch.

“Have a seat, cupcake, we don’t bite.” The girl smirked as she sat forward almost curiously. Also an American.

“I especially mean that towards you, Vi.” Caitlyn’s expression morphed into a glare as she watched me cautiously lower myself onto the seat like it was going to give out below me any second. “Oh, and this is Ellie- Ellie Williams. Also a fresher. Ellie, Mills, this is… Jinx, Ekko, Jesse, Dina, you obviously know Jayce, Abby-”

“Bitch.” Ellie mumbled underneath her breath causing my eyes to widen for the thousandth time as she took the open seat next to me. “She totally knocked my lights out during practice today.”

“You have to have at least one light on to have them knocked out, Williams.” The muscular woman stated as she brought a glass of amber liquid up towards her mouth.

“Wow, didn’t realize hockey rivalries on the same team were a thing.” Caitlyn fought back a laugh as she went to take an empty seat of her own.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ellie grumbled a bit to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Williams? She yours?” Vi cleared her throat as she nodded in my direction.

“Who? Amelia? I-I mean I wouldn’t complain but we’re just friends.” She answered immediately causing Vi’s eyebrows to lift.

“So- no intense feelings you guys are harboring or anything?” She questioned again as she stole glances between the two of us.

“Unless there’s something she’s not telling me?” Ellie wondered with a lifted brow as she looked towards me as if in confirmation. And it was then I realized how tightly I was clutching onto her hand below the table.

It wasn’t as if the two of us hadn’t thought about it. It wasn’t as if I had spent a solid number of nights in her bed whenever things got really tough. Ultimately though we had decided what we had as best friends was far too intense or precious to fuck up over a relationship. And also just the sheer fact that dating somebody you met in a psychiatric facility disguised as a ‘wellness retreat’ was probably a bad idea.

“No, just best friends.” I answered in a small voice with a simple shrug.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I buy her a drink then?”

“Careful Vi.” Caitlyn growled from her spot on the couch across from her.

“Ummm, can you buy me a song on the jukebox instead?” I asked, and to my surprise a series of impressed sentiments filled the table. My eyes only furrowed in confusion however as I peered towards Ellie or Caitlyn for help, “What?”

“Because Millie, that was smooth as fuck.“ Ellie answered almost drawing a little laugh from my end.

“Lucky for you, doll, I can buy you both.” Vi spoke as she held a bruised hand out for me to take.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel any butterflies blooming in my chest at her words. The feeling of my heart kickstarting as I placed my hand in hers and let her lead me towards the bar. Her hand was warm and rough in my own, calloused but not in the way Ellie’s were from the constant plucking on her guitar. They were calloused in a far more aggressive way. I should’ve known I was heading towards my own demise in that moment. Falling down a hole I’d lose myself entirely in. An electric pull on my heartstrings that kept me close to her.

Fuck, I should’ve known it was only the start.

A/N: I AM SOOOOO EXCITED TO GET THIS UP!!!! I wanna know all your thoughts!! Tell me everything!! I’m so so SO beyond excited to write more of this I’m screaming!!

Also- psa I know a ton of characters don’t talk/aren’t really in this one. I promise they will be further on! Just need to get an establishing shot first! 🖤

-> Next Part

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter three -

This has got to be the longest crush ever

Robin’s bad date, and a late night that changes everything.

warnings: 18+ A little bit of queer and mid twenties crisis angst for Robin, with comfort obvi. Tension, but are we surprised at this point?, and a secret third thing, wonder what it could be? 😚

wc: 6.3k

authors note: Hi babies! I am taking just a week off from my posting schedule for this week long work trip I’m taking on Monday. There’s lots of conferences and I won’t have much down time. We will resume our normal posting schedule for chapter four starting 3/20 🌻🧡

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

Would you believe me if I said I’m in love? 

                            Baby, I want you to want me.

You can’t believe you landed yourself in detention.

All your late night study sessions for the SAT’s that led to oversleeping and missed alarms finally catching up to you just like Robin warned you it would. Miss O’Donnell is the one who makes your best friend's predictions come true, handing you that notorious pink slip for walking into her class ten minutes late for the third time this week. 

When you arrive at exactly 3:15, the classroom is mostly empty. Your eyes scan the bored faces of the few students joining you, hoping to at least see Eddie’s familiar head of curls. But of course, today of all days, he’s managed to be on his best behavior or just didn’t get caught. 

Sighing defeated, you give Mr. Clark a tight lipped smile, ignoring the shocked look on his face seeing you in here. Picking an empty desk in the middle away from anyone, you decide to busy yourself with the Algebra homework you’ve been avoiding for the better half of a week. It’s when you lean over to unzip your backpack that you catch the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the ceramic floors.

”Ahh, Mr. Harrington. Even fashionably late to detention, I see. Your hair looks good enough to sit in silence for an hour and a half to me.” Mr. Clark announces the king of Hawkins's grand entrance with the kind of sarcasm that makes you smirk as you start arranging your things on your desk.

“That’s good to know 'cause I was doing it for you Mr. C.”

Steve Harrington always thinks he’s so charming

Snorting as you click your pen, you dare to look up only to catch ‘the hair’ looking right back at you with that golden smile that you’ve seen take even the strongest soldiers out. 

Oh no. 

Eyes going big, you quickly bring your attention back down to your homework, silently hoping he doesn’t take the seat next to you and land you in here next week too. 

“So thoughtful of you. Now why don’t you take a seat and do some studying for that test on Monday. And maybe this semester you won’t have to worry about relying on extra credit to keep playing basketball.” Mr. Clark dismisses him, earning a low whistle from the boy who holds his hands up in surrender, Nike covered feet coming down your row.

No, no, no, NO.

You still don’t look up, rereading the same question over and over again because no matter how many times you try, you’re too distracted by the cedar and clove that invades your senses kicking them into overdrive. The whites of his sneakers catch in your peripherals when he does the unimaginable and sits next to you.

Staring at the equation with the kind of concentration that’ll be sure to give you a migraine later, it takes him a good thirty seconds before he temporarily gives up trying to get your attention to grab something that gives the illusion of studying out of his backpack. 

Trying to play it cool, your stomach twists in nervous knots worse than the ones you get when Robin forces you on the janky rides at the summer fair every year. Sure, you’ve been hit on by a guy here and there, but no one can prepare you for what it’s like to catch Steve Harrington’s attention—especially for someone in your Hawkins hierarchy who would never be on the receiving end of it.

He flips through the pages of his textbook loudly, earning his first warning glare from Mr. Clark, and you decide to write your name on the top of the page so at least it looks like you’re doing something. After a couple bounces of your knee, you can feel the heat of his gaze back on you.

”Psst, hey.” 

The last letter of your name comes out illegible, and you jump at the hushed sound of his voice. Taking a deep breath, you work up the courage to meet his flirtatious smirk and golden brown eyes. The sun leaking through the windows gives you a glimpse of the green that hides inside them from this close. You hate to admit that he’s just as pretty as everyone says he is.

”Hi,” you smile a little shy, offering a small wave of your pen and it lights up his whole face, making your body buzz.

”You have a highlighter I can use or something?” He keeps up his ruse, the whites of his teeth showing in a grin.

You arch an eyebrow at him, something sarcastic reminiscent of Mr. Clark flashing behind your eyes. 

“What? You don’t think I’m actually going to study?” He acts shocked, slapping his giant hand across his chest and it earns the kind of giggle from you that pushes him full steam ahead.

”It’s blue, is that okay?” Giving into the bait, you try and hide the way your face warms, ducking down to dig in the bottom of your backpack.

”Are you kidding? I love blue. Favorite color actually.” Laying it on thick, you can see the way he scoots to the edge of his seat, the spice of his cologne making you bite at your bottom lip as your fingers wrap around what you’re looking for.

Sitting up in your seat, you aren’t expecting him to be so close and it threatens to steal the air right out of your lungs.

”H-here,” you manage, holding the blue writing utensil in the small space that's left between you.

Steve's eyes roam your face freely, pink tongue coming out to wet his full bottom lip before they settle back on your gaze, lids a little heavy, voice low and somehow sticky sweet.

”Thanks, honey.” He leans forward more, purposely brushing his fingers with yours when he takes it out of your grasp, “but now, I’m afraid the only way you’re gonna get it back is to let me drive you home after this.”

“I’ve got plenty, you can keep that one,” you try to stay strong, but when that second giggle slips out, you seal your fate.

”I can’t do that, this is your favorite one.” He tisks like it’s the craziest thing he’s ever heard, with a crooked grin that makes you bite the inside of your cheek.

”Is it?”

”Absolutely.”

“Are you two done? Or should we schedule a second date for next week?” Mr. Clark interrupts.

”That would actually be date number three. We’re going on two after this is over.” Steve smirks, throwing you a wink ignoring the harsh way you whisper of his name. 

Yeah… you were fucked.

“I’ve got a date tonight!” 

Robin sings excitedly, bursting through the front door in a wild ball of energy, successfully waking you up from your nap on the couch. Blinking slowly, as you start to recognize your surroundings, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you force yourself to sit up, wincing at your stiff neck and the fact that you dreamed about Steve Harrington again. 

“A date with who?” You grumble, still a little grouchy, yawning with a stretch that pops in your back.

”This girl that I met at the record store this morning, we talked about Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos for what felt like hours. She’s just, wow, she’s so cool. Almost too cool for me, you know? She’s a senior in college-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.” Cutting her off before she can ramble any longer, you wave your hands for her to stop: “First of all, no one is too cool for you, okay? If anything, it’s always going to be the other way around.”

“Yeah, okay, Steve.”

It takes a minute for her words to sink in about the man you haven’t seen in almost a week and a half, but when they do, the glare that settles on your face makes her laugh. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan with a tight-lipped smirk, before clearing your throat, “Well where are you guys going? Do you want me to go undercover in case you need saving? I’m fully prepared for a stakeout.”

Robin rolls her eyes, but her smile, which spreads wide enough to see all her teeth, gives away her love for your dramatics. 

“No, I don’t need you to go undercover or anything. I mean, it is going to be nice knowing you’ll be here waiting for me to tell you all about it instead of having to call you and hope the city girl answers.” She teases, earning the scoff from you that she was looking for.

“I’m choosing to ignore that, and if at any point you change your mind, you know your own number.”

Earning a genuine laugh from Robin always makes your soul feel lighter, so when your joke lands and you get one, the heaviness of Steve that’s been weighing down on your shoulders eases up just a little bit.

”I’ve just never been approached in public before like that, you know? It’s not just the other girl you know is gay on campus. I don’t know, it feels good.” Your best friend’s confession makes you want to wrap her up in a hug, keeping the urge to remind her of your offer to move to the city with you to yourself for right now, letting her bask in the moment.

”Well, you're hot. Can you blame her? If you weren’t basically like a sister to me, I’d be all over it.” Wiggling your eyebrows, she flips you off, but you still catch the tinge of pink that paints her cheeks rosy.

”Please, Steve would have my head on a stake.” She snorts, purposely trying to get under your skin now.

”Robin.”

”What? I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel in his eye when I mentioned your little ‘adventure’ last week” She giggles, heading towards her bedroom.

If only she knew just how much those words were true. Your thighs meet like in the memory you can’t stop playing on a loop, palms turning sweaty, remembering the velvet of his lips so close to your neck.

”Wait! Did you ask that on purpose?!” You gasp, jumping to your feet to follow her.

”Maybe.”

”Maybe?!”

”You know what I do need help with?” She ignores you, spinning on her heel to meet your narrowed eyes.

”What?”

”Help me pick any outfit?” Pushing out her bottom lip, she gives you the kind of puppy dog eyes that no one in their right mind could say no to.

Sighing heavily, your feet drag on the carpet before flopping yourself onto her bed huffing out a “Fine” as the box springs squeak.

The rest of the day is spent going through what feels like every outfit in Robin’s possession, even getting desperate enough to try on some of your clothes despite your clashing styles. Settling on a pair of boot cut jeans, a black half crop top with a flannel shirt that you’re pretty sure she stole from Steve and the Dr. Martin’s you got her for her birthday last year, she was ready to break hearts. Blue eyes roll in the back of her head when you make her say ‘I’m the prize’ until you feel like she halfway believes it before handing over her I.D. that you’d found stuffed between the cushions of the couch in a frenzied panic to search for it only ten minutes prior.

The sun starts to set on Robin’s small apartment after she finally heads out the door, and the shadows that bounce off the white walls bring back the thoughts of Steve you’d successfully gotten rid of for a few fleeting hours. 

Huffing to yourself with crossed arms, you watch the flat bag of popcorn spin around in the microwave. You can still hear the beginning Moonstruck playing on the TV in the living room, over the loud hum of the machine. Comfortable in an oversized shirt that lands just at the bottoms of your cotton sleep shorts, goosebump dot across your legs from the cool of the A/C. Your skin still tingles everywhere he touched and the week of radio silence feels worse the second time around. 

The shrill sound of Robin’s phone and the first kernel of popcorn exploding in the bag overpower your ears all at once, making you jump. Mumbling cuss words under the now constant sound of popping, you try to calm your heart rate down, wandering to the living room. Your hand hovers over the phone, the realization about who might be on the other line making your stomach drop. He hadn’t called Robin yet. There’s a moment of hesitation, but you take a deep breath, letting the air expand in your lungs, silently counting to three before you grab the phone off its hook.

”Buckley residen-“

”I need you to come get me, I- I’ve made a huge mistake and I’m just so fuck - “ Robin cuts you off, the rasp in her voice cracking like she’s trying not to cry, “I’m just really embarrassed, please come get me.”

“What happened? Where are you? I’m coming, just - just tell me where you are.” Running to her bedroom to grab your sneakers with the phone pressed to your ear, you can hear her sniffle.

”Benningans, it’s the next town over. I’ll be outside -“

”Are you safe?” You panic, slipping your foot into your shoe as quickly as you can.

”I’m safe, I’m just, I’m embar- I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m safe, I’ll be outside.” She mutters.

”I’ll get there as fast as I can, okay?” Feeling a little helpless, you try to ease the hurt that’s evident in her tone with soft reassurance. 

”I’m just, I’m really glad you're here. I’ll see you soon.” She manages to get out before the line clicks dead.

Slipping your second shoe on, the realization that you don’t actually have a car to save her with, hits you like a ton of bricks. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Stomping back to the living room, your eyes find the mustard yellow address book next to the phone’s dock. Your fingers fumble through its pages, eyes squinting as you try to read Robin’s messy writing, searching for a familiar name. You find two:

Eddie and Steve.

You stare at the page, your moral compass going haywire. Despite the way he’s rented a space in your mind, the thought of seeing him alone again makes your stomach twist. Eddie would be simple. Eddie would be easy. Your thumb hovers over the first number in the one she has scribbled down for him, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t bring yourself to press it. She needs Steve.

You groan loudly, stomping your foot for good measure, before letting out a long breath through your nose, dialing his number that you knew you should have all along. 

It only rings twice.

“Whatever it is, the answer is no,” Steve deadpans.

”Is that really how you answer your phone?” You scoff, doing your best to ignore the butterflies you’ve managed to stifle as they start to come alive at the sound of his voice.

“I thought this was - shit, I thought this was Henderson - erm I mean Dustin, you remember Dustin?” He stammers and you know that hand of his is running through his hair right now.

“Yeah, the middle schooler.”

“Well, he’s like nineteen now -“

“I didn’t call you to talk about Dustin, Steve,” You sigh heavily, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “Robin called me really upset from Bennigans, and I don’t have a car or any way to go get her-” 

“I’m on my way.” He cuts you off without any hesitation,“Be outside in five minutes for me?”

”My shoes are already on.”  

After a click, you’re left with the sound of the dial tone in your ear. You hang up the phone as warmth floods your body, easing some of your temporary worries. 

Steve Harrington is making it hard to hate him.

The short walk to Steve’s BMW from Robin’s front door feels like stepping through a time machine.

One that takes you back to late nights sneaking out your bedroom window, always being extra careful not to wake your parents up so you could go make out with your secret kind of boyfriend under the stars. Those were always your favorite nights with him. The nights he’d put away the king Steve armor, those nights he’d just be Steve. A boy who just wanted to make his father proud, thinking maybe he’d stay home more if he was.

You can feel the way his eyes roam your body, the heat of his stare lingering on your exposed legs, setting your skin on fire. Suddenly more than aware of your lack of pants, only part of you regrets not changing into some leggings, but you try not to think about that too hard right now.

He clears his throat when you open the passenger door, the smell of leather and the dark woody sweet scent of oil surrounding you as you slide into your seat. The spice of his cologne tickles your nose when you close yourself in, clicking your seatbelt in place before daring to meet his eyes. The golden brown inside them shimmers with something you’d missed in the orange glow of the street light and the nerves still feel the same way they did five years ago. The only thing that hasn’t changed.

”Thanks for doing this,” you offer with a weak smile.

When he realizes you’ve put your weapons down for the night, his face softens with a crooked grin, subtle pink dusting the apples of his cheeks.

”I meant it when I said I can’t say no to you,” he starts, selfishly letting his eyes roam the smooth lines of your face that are finally not twisted up into a glare before realizing his slip up, “and Robin, my best friend obviously.”

”Our best friend, Steve.” You tease trying to ignore the tension that crackles in the empty space between you even worse than before.

”Whatever you have to tell yourself,” he winks, forearm flexing as he puts the car in drive.

Scoffing a ‘whatever’ with a playful roll of your eyes, you let your muscles relax into the familiar seat. The Police’s Every Breath You Take spills through the speakers just loud enough to be heard over the low rumble of the engine, and you become hyper aware of his hand resting on the stick shift, the tips of his fingers just close enough to brush against your thigh every time you hit a bump. 

There’s a silence that falls between you once the street lights run out and his full focus shifts to the pitch black road ahead. The quiet is filled with what almost happened in his room, unspoken words that don’t dare to roll off of sober tongues. You wait until he’s too distracted looking for surprises that might run out from the woods on either side of you to let your eyes wander over and really take him in.

A white drawstring hangs low on his heather gray sweatpants that fit tight over his thighs spread wide. Your throat goes dry at the white tank top that hugs his broad chest, the gold chain that wraps around his neck getting lost in the thick patch of curls on display. You’re finally able to really make out more of his tattoo for the first time, thin, precise lines that look like feathers attached to a set of sparrow wings.

”Did she tell you what happened? I mean, is she safe?” He interrupts your greedy stare, eyes lighting up when he catches you, tucking it away for another time.

”Uhh, yeah,” you answer with a shake of your head, teeth biting down on your bottom lip with hot cheeks, “she’s safe, she kept saying she’s embarrassed but wouldn’t tell me why, just kept begging me to come get her.”

He just hums, lost deep in thought of all the things it could be, and his grip on the steering wheel tightens with worry. 

“We’re only ten minutes away, so it won’t be too much longer now.” 

He reassures you, but it feels like he needs it too, especially when his hand leaves the stick shift to run through his hair that looks more tousled than usual, making you wonder if he was lying in bed before this. A worried breath exhales through his nose, with a tight jaw, and you hate the way your stomach drops when both his hands find the steering wheel after he tugs on his roots a little bit. 

Nervous fingers play with the bottoms of your sleep shorts, trying your best not to stare while you keep your gaze out the passenger window. Stolen glances are followed by tight lipped smiles when you’d always find him staring back. Honey and chestnut make your stomach flutter, and you think maybe some things never change. 

It takes less than the ten minutes that Steve promised for the back roads to turn busy, and bright with the kind of lights a small town on a Saturday night has. A slouched frame sitting on the side of the road catches in his headlights, getting closer you see that Robin’s waves have lost all the bounce she left the house with, along with the rosy tint in her cheeks. The flashing Bennigans sign spins a block behind her, and the orange bulbs match the burning ember on the end of her cigarette that dangles from her full lips. 

“Shit, it’s bad if she’s smoking,” Steve mutters, turning on his hazards as he pulls up next to her, the wheels of his car coming to a stop. 

She hollows her cheeks out, taking one last drag, waving at you to stop unbuckling your seat belt as she gets to her feet. Blowing the smoke from her lungs into the wind, she flicks the half smoked butt into the street before opening the back door, sliding into the leather seats with an exasperated huff.

“Just, don’t – I’m okay,” she starts, closing the door and shutting out the whir of the traffic outside. “Turns out her boyfriend’s best friend really likes Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos too. She really thought me and him might hit it off after our talk at the record store today. I don’t want to talk about it, I just want to go home with my two favorite people and feel sorry for myself.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” Steve doesn’t miss a beat. Turning around in his seat, he flashes her his million-dollar Harrington smile. “I’m the king of feeling sorry for myself.”

Her lips twitch, but when she sees the natural roll of your eyes at the boy next to you, it turns into a full blown smile. A little shimmer came through in the dulled-out color of her eyes.

Got me up all night

            all I’m singing is love songs.

“Honestly, now that I’m thinking about it, this girl sounds like a scammer, Rob. I mean, come on.” Steve snorts, rifling through her cupboards in the kitchen. Tracy Chapman and Tori Amos, what kind of game was she playing at anyway?”

Robin giggles from her place next to you on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder, the green apple of her shampoo still lingering on her curls that tickle your cheek. 

“Plenty of people like those artists, Steve.” She sighs, but you can still hear her smile, “It’s fine, I’ll just stay the lonely Hawkins lesbian for the rest of my life, no big deal.”

”Shut up!”

”Will you stop?!”

You and Steve chide her at the same time, hard eyes meeting from across the living room and softening. He doesn’t even try to stop the lopsided grin that pushes up your favorite cheek and you hope Robin doesn’t feel the way it makes your skin warm. 

“Whatever, I already warned you I’m going to be miserable. Gimmie a break, and you’re actually taking forever in there, by the way.” Whining, she sits up, sending a rush of fruit and leftover tobacco to your nose.

“Yeah, well, I can’t find your peanut butter,” he mutters, opening up the cabinet above the sink, the bottom of his tank top rising enough to see a sliver of sun kissed skin and a few more freckles. Why does it feel like there's always more?

”What are you even making anyway?” you ask, ignoring the way Robin’s head whips around. A smirk spreads wide across her face because you’re actually trying to make conversation with Steve.

“Just a little something that’s going to cure my best friend’s heartbreak,” he winks, the jar of JIF extra crunchy looking extra small in his grasp, twisting the cap off. “We came up with it together, actually.o biggie.”

Your gaze narrows, but he doesn’t miss the way the corners of your mouth twitch, something sparkling inside the dark gold in his eyes.

”Interesting, considering I ran to the store earlier to grab my best friend’s favorite ice cream, just in case.” You counter, something mischievous twisting up your lips. “You didn’t even think to stop and get it on our way home. Some friend.”

Robin’s smile lights up the room, very obviously enjoying the show, maybe even a little too much. Clapping her hands together, she lets out a content sigh before leaning back into the couch cushions.

”I really could get used to this,” she beams, “maybe we should have a contest, see which one of you can do the nicest things for me.”

You can’t stop the snort or the roll of your eyes that has Steve throwing his head back in a fully-bellied laugh, giving you the perfect view of his neck, and only Robin clocks the way your giggles are cut short and the secret way your eyes glaze over.

”I’m not gonna lie as much as I love crunchy peanut butter banana s’mores, I have to say Steve, the fact that she actually called you makes her the winner for the night.” She smirks, chuckling harder when you shove her with a hushed ‘Robin!’

His smile doesn’t fade as he starts to cut banana slices. Big eyes meet yours with the kind of look that threatens to melt you into the couch.

”That’s alright, I’ll be a gracious loser tonight, but just know, honey, I’m very competitive.” He warns, long fingers spreading the fruit evenly throughout the peanut butter that messily coats graham crackers.  

“I don’t like to lose, so it’s fine.” Your quick reply deepens the smile lines in his cheeks, putting the finishing touches on your snacks.

“Yeah, this is definitely the life I was meant to live,” Robin gloats, nudging you, “I’m the prize, right?”

It’s your turn to throw your head back in the kind of laugh that rattles in your rib cage, too distracted to see the lovesick way Steve bites his bottom lip watching you from across the room.

But Robin does.

With a heart so full it might burst, tears threaten to spill from the ocean in her eyes, daydreaming about moments like this, only ever thinking they would be something that stayed trapped in the confines of her mind. The warming feeling of happiness wraps around Robin like a blanket when she gets to sit between you both on the couch. A distant friend she hasn’t seen in a long time, a secret she’s kept mostly to herself. 

With a messy plate of half eaten treats and sticky fingers, she’s content watching Cher and Nicholas Cage fight over how much they love each other. Fully knowing that Steve is sneaking looks at you from over her head, smiling to herself at the nervous way you fiddle with your hands in your lap because of it.

Robin doesn’t fight the exhaustion that starts to make her eyelids heavy just a little halfway through the movie. It’s easy to give in when your body weight relaxes deeper into her side, and how Steve drapes his arm over the back of the couch, tucking you both into his chest with evening breaths.

You’re warm, cozier than normal, and it surrounds every part of you.

Cheek pressed against something that’s not firm enough to be the couch, you nuzzle yourself deeper, chasing the heat and the sleep that’s threatening to evade you. Your cushion starts to move, making eyes shift behind lids that aren’t ready to open yet. Lashes flutter, feeling the way your leg is slotted between someone else’s, and the warmth of a palm finds the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A deep sigh rumbles in your ear before fingertips lazily trace up and down the dip of your spine. Stubble tickles your forehead, and as coherency starts to come back to you, a softer patch of hair rubs against your cheek. The kind of spice and lingering sunshine that could only come from one person hits your senses, and the white cotton of Steve’s tank top finally becomes visible. 

The shift in your breathing brings his soft touches to a halt, the muscles you’re pressed on your side against stiffening. Realizing your hands are sprawled across his chest, just under your chin, you can feel the way his heart races under your palm. He’s everywhere, and despite the way you’ve told yourself you hate him, your fingers curl into the cotton of his shirt because it feels like home. Toes pressing into his calf, you wind your leg around his tighter, and it turns timid fingertips sure of themselves, tracing patterns between your shoulder blades. You don’t dare look up at him yet, or it would make the way your own hand starts to explore his abs that twitch under your red nails real. 

He feels different than you remember, there's more of him now, harder in spots that used to be soft. Your fingers get greedy, the blunt ends of your nails scratching along the outline of his happy trail, earning a low groan from him that vibrates deep in your core. Those butterflies that have made a permanent home out of you start to stretch their wings, and when they feel the soft velvet of his lips against your forehead, they tickle at your ribcage and kick up your heart rate. You wonder if he can feel it.

It’s the faintest kiss, one that you’re not sure you would’ve even felt if you were asleep, but it makes you lean in closer. Inhaling deeply, tears sting at the corner of your eyes when the familiar scent only makes you crave him more. After years spent denying the existence of his touch from your memory, it’s almost overwhelming to feel it again. 

The muscles in his arm underneath your neck twitch, and the fingers that have been drawing lazy circles on your back move slowly up your shoulder. The backs of them run down your arm before they finally connect with your skin, goosebumps exploding underneath his touch in a ball of electricity that you can feel on the pads of them that start a new path up the loose sleeve of your shirt.

You fiddle with the bottom hem of his tank top, the heat of his body radiating against already flushed skin. Brave fingers dare to dip underneath only to get stopped by a large palm wrapping around your wrist 

“Baby,” there's a hint of a smile and a little bit of grogginess in his voice that gives away that he hasn’t been awake that much longer than you, “I think you should at least look at me before I let you get under my shirt.”

Biting at your bottom lip, you push yourself deeper into his chest, embarrassed, feeling the gentle shake of his body when he laughs. 

“Come on pretty, let me see your face.”

His affection makes your heart swell, and you know what it means if you look him in the eyes. Your nails dig into the cotton, tugging at the fabric a little while you pull yourself together, lashes fluttering against your cheeks, shaking the rest of the sleep. Lifting your head up from its hiding place, you cross the line you promised yourself you wouldn’t, but when you meet the green that shimmers in the darkness of his eyes, and the crooked grin that twists up his full pink lips, it feels good to give in.

Releasing the hold on your wrist, he’s gentle, almost hesitant, when his warm palm cups your cheek. The rough pad of his thumb traces the line of your cheekbone feather light, and you can’t help but lean into his touch. No more armor, fleeting glances, or stolen looks, not when he’s this close and even more handsome in the glow of the moonlight. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear, and your legs somehow wrap around his tighter.

”Yeah?” you whisper, your fingers coming up to the play with the gold chain dangling from his neck. “Why didn’t you kiss me then?”

”What?”

”Last week,” 

”That wasn’t the right time,” he sighs, eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s committing it to memory, “It would have ruined it.”

“Ruined what?” You press, twisting the metal between your fingertips, heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“My chance at trying to do this the right way, the way you deserve.” He doesn’t hesitate to say it, like it’s something he’s thought about for years, and it makes your head spin.

“What about now?” 

“That depends,” he hums, the pad of his thumb dragging across the slight pout of your bottom lip, threatening to steal the air from your lungs.

”On?” Your voice comes out just above a whisper. Tilting your chin up, you can still smell the peanut butter on his breath.

”If you want me to.”  He breathes, the tip of his nose running along the length of yours. 

Your hold on his gold chain tightens, pulling him even closer. His eyebrows pinch together when he feels the slightest brush of your lips against his, and he can still taste the sweetness of the banana.

”Please tell me you want me to.” 

The desperation in his voice is enough for you to tug him down, closing what’s left of the small gap, your top lip catching against his full bottom one. Just enough to feel the familiar silk that could leave a wildfire in their wake before you finally speak.

“Kiss me, Steve.”

A groan rattles deep in his chest, and he doesn’t hesitate to do what he’s wanted to since he saw you. Applying just enough pressure to wake up every last butterfly, the tip of his nose pushes into your cheek when he slots his lips with yours. It’s soft at first like he’s testing the waters, taking it slow so he can savor it, just in case you never let him do it again.

He pulls away enough to look at you, chestnut eyes blown out wide, and you hate that you already miss his kiss. Giving into everything you’ve fought for so long, it’s your turn to capture his lips. It stuns him at first, but when you open your mouth, his body melts easily into yours, and that big hand of his moves from your cheek to hold the back of your neck. Tongue swiping boldly across your lower lip, he begs you to let him in.

Moans get hidden, muffled inside each other's mouths after you grant him access, your fingers tangle themselves inside the thick forest of his hair that’s still just as soft as you remember. Nipping at his bottom lip, the grip on the back of your neck tightens and you can feel the way he kicks up in his sweats because of it. Your own thighs threatening close when you’re reminded of what’s between his legs.

“Baby,” he warns in between kisses, feeling the roll of your hips, but you don’t miss the subtle way he tries to meet them with his own.

It’s too easy to get lost in him, and the years it took to move past him make even more sense when your tongue finds his again. Fighting for dominance, you try not to think about the irreversible damage tonight might do to you as you tug at his roots, teeth scraping together, the kiss turns more heated by the second. Years of anger and longing come out in desperate touches. His hand finds its way to your hip, the pads of his fingers brushing against the skin under your shirt, sending a shiver up your spine, letting you roll them one, two, three times before tightening his hold.

He pulls you closer, letting you win before his nose nudges against your cheek, his lips finding the corner of your mouth. Catching his breath, he trails them along your jaw before making his way down your neck. Your chest heaves, fingers turning soft and slowly running through his hair. He hums against your skin, his hand staying under your shirt, the warmth of his palm covering the small of your back, leaving wet kisses on the sensitive spot behind your ear.

”Let me take you on a date,” he whispers, leaving one more under his jaw before pulling back to look at you.

”Steve -“

”Just one,” he begs, bumping his nose with yours, smirking when it makes you smile.

”Let me sleep on it,” you sigh, ducking your head under his chin to hide. Too many thoughts trying to occupy space in your mind with a head still dizzy from his lips.

”I’ll take what I can get,” he laughs, the tips of his fingers starting up the familiar patterns that started all of this, quickly make your eyelids heavy, nuzzling deeper into his chest. You weren’t ready to think about tomorrow yet.

🌻 chapter four

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Auntie Row

Rowena & Winchester little sister!reader, team free will & Winchester!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Rowena has a soft spot for the Winchester’s little sister, and they get into lots of trouble together (I suck at synopsis, just read the fic it’s better)

Warnings: honestly nothing, time frame makes no sense with reader’s age but 🤷‍♀️

“Rowena, what do you think you’re doing?”

The witch looked up in surprise when the Winchester brothers entered.

“Sammy!” You, the brothers’ six-year-old sister, ran straight to your big brother and giggled when he lifted you into his arms.

“Oh, you’re back,” Rowena said, cringing. “That was quick.”

“Auntie Row is teaching me how to do magic, like Hermione!” You babbled excitedly.

“Rowena…” Dean growled in warning.

“Now now, she’s a growing girl!” Rowena defended herself. “Learning magic is a perfectly natural part of growing up.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam scoffed.

“But Sammy!” You whined.

“Nu-uh,” Sam shook his head. “C’mon, it’s about time you had a nap.” He carried you out without another word to Rowena, who huffed dramatically and started to gather her belongings.

“When we said you could watch Y/N—“ Dean began, but Rowena cut him off.

“I know you didn’t mean this, but honestly Dean Winchester, how d’you expect the girl to defend herself if she can’t use magic?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean insisted. “We’ll protect her.”

“Oh honestly, you can’t be around her all the time! If she had magic, she could—“

“For the last time Rowena; no.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“Uh, guys.” Sam returned to the room with a slight frown on his face. “Y/N said she wants Rowena to continue her story from last night. She’s refusing to sleep without it.”

“Well,” Rowena smirked. “Duty calls.”

“Hey.” Dean caught Rowena by the arm, and she glared at him. “Magic always comes with a price. I don’t want her to have to pay it.”

Rowena softened.

“I understand, Dean Winchester.”

His grip slackened, and Rowena left to go to you.

…

“I have a little something for you,” Rowena said as she stepped into your room.

“Can we finish the story?” You asked.

“Of course, sweet girl, of course. But first, I want to show you something. You remember that cursed necklace from the story? The one that protected the witch from the angry mob?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded excitedly.

“Well, I think it’s time it protected someone else.” Rowena grinned, unclasping the necklace that was hidden behind her shirt and carefully putting it on you.

“Really?” Your eyes went wide as you stared up at the witch.

“Yes. That will protect you from anyone who wants to harm you. That way you don’t have to use any magic, just like your brothers said.”

“Thank you, Auntie Row,” you breathed sincerely, reverence painting your tone as you admired the glowing red jewel.

Rowena leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You’re very welcome, sweet thing. Now, let’s finish that story, shall we?”

…

“Kiddo, please, it’s just for a few days,” Sam tried to soothe you, but you still wouldn’t let go of his leg and continued to cry. “Mary’s gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

“I could really help you guys on this one,” Mary argued.

“She needs someone to watch her,” Dean reasoned.

“And why am I the automatic choice?” Mary countered.

“You two are not helping,” Sam said through gritted teeth as he picked you up, letting you lay your head on his shoulder. He hated Mary’s distance from you; you were John’s, but not hers. He understood her reason for not getting close to you, but you were just a little kid, and you didn’t deserve that. Sam just rubbed your back, still trying to soothe you as you continued to sniffle.

“If you boys needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

The three adults turned in surprise at the sound of Rowena’s voice.

“I mean honestly, it’s not like I haven’t babysat before.”

Dean was hesitant. “I don’t know if—“

“Sounds like a plan,” Mary said, going to grab her duffel. She tossed over her shoulder, “now I can help on the hunt!”

“Am I gonna stay with Auntie Row?” You asked Sam, your eyes wide and pleading.

“I…yeah honey, you are,” Sam sighed.

“Yay!” You grinned, wiping your tears away and squirming in Sam’s grip.

“Ok, ok,” Sam chuckled, lowering you to the ground so you could run to Rowena for a hug. “It’s probably best that you guys don’t stay in the bunker.” Sam directed his next words at the witch holding his little sister. “The bunker’s system still goes a little wonky with a witch inside, so one of your safe houses is probably a better idea.”

“That works for me.” Rowena grinned. “How would you like to go to Paris, sweet thing?” She asked you.

“This is a horrible idea,” Dean sighed. But he still grabbed his bag and headed out to Baby anyway.

…

“We’re back!” Sam called as he stepped into the bunker.

“Sammy! De!” You squealed, running to your big brothers and reaching them just as they came down the stairs. Dean scooped you into his arms and held you tight, comforted to see such a happy sight after such a grueling hunt.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, noticing your outfit.

“Auntie Row took me to shops in Paris, and we got a lot of clothes!” You babbled excitedly as Dean let Sam pull you into his arms.

“You’re spoiling her, Rowena,” Dean chuckled, no longer quite so hesitant about the witch now that he saw how happy you were.

“And she deserves every bit of it,” Rowena said.

…

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry darling, but you must sit still!”

“What’s going on in here?” Sam asked curiously as he stepped into your room to see you and Rowena sitting in front of your vanity.

“I’m trying to do her hair, but she won’t stop squirming,” Rowena explained, running a little pink brush through your hair.

“It’s all knotty!” You whined.

“Well it won’t be in a minute,” Rowena said.

Sam just smiled as he watched you, finally getting experiences that you’d never had before; motherly experiences.

The more he watched, though, the more he noticed how much you were squirming, and how much you seemed to be whining.

“Hey, you seem kinda grumpy, kid. Did you get a nap today?” He asked, coming to stand beside you and Rowena.

“Yeah,” you sniffled.

“You’re kinda pale,” he muttered under his breath, getting on one knee and reaching the back of his hand out to touch your forehead. “Jeez kid, you’re burning up.”

“She’s ill?” Rowena put the brush down and turned your chair around so you were facing her, repeating Sam’s gesture and checking your temperature. “She is quite hot.”

“Hey, let’s get you into some pjs, ok?” Sam suggested, lifting you into his arms. “You should get some sleep.”

“I already had a nap!” You insisted, squirming in Sam’s arms.

“Hey Sammy, I think I found us a case,” Dean said, stepping into your room. “Something wrong?”

“She’s got a fever,” Sam sighed. “You should go without me.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rowena spoke up. “Just leave her with me.”

“I don’t want to leave her when she’s sick,” Sam argued.

“Oh she’ll be fine,” Rowena insisted. “I’ll give her some herbs and she’ll be out like a light, she’ll sleep until you get back.”

“I don’t know…” Sam sighed.

“How about this,” Rowena said. “You put her to bed, and leave once she’s asleep. I’ll watch over her, and I’ll call you if she worsens.”

“Alright.” Sam looked at you. “Is that ok kiddo?”

You nodded sleepily, suddenly not so eager to fight another nap.

“Sammy, my tummy hurts,” you whimpered.

Sam nearly melted at this, more reluctant than ever to leave you.

“I know sweetheart, c’mon let’s get you into some pjs and then you can go to sleep, ok?”

Sam helped you get dressed while Dean packed for the hunt. It didn’t take long to have you tucked into bed, and you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Sam lingered in your doorway, unsure about leaving you like this.

“She’ll be fine,” Rowena soothed the Winchester brother. “She’s asleep, and I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed, grabbing the bag that Dean had packed him. “Just…take care of her, ok?”

“Always,” Rowena responded.

And she did. When the Winchester brothers returned, your fever had broken and you were resting on the couch with Rowena, some cartoon playing on the tv.

“Hello boys,” she greeted when she saw them.

“Hey kid.” Sam went straight to you, brushing your hair away from your face. “Are you feeling any better?”

Rowena went to speak to Dean while you answered Sam with a distracted “yeah,” continuing to watch your cartoon.

“Her fever broke,” she explained to him. “I think it’s best if she rests a bit more, though.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Dean said sincerely. “She really seems to like you.”

Rowena smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

…

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked you.

You nodded, finally pulling your gaze from the cartoon.

“Yeah, I like Auntie Row!”

Sam smiled softly.

“I’m glad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

[pelova4president]

Shadows are to protect IV

Victoria Pelova x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect I, II, III

summary~ You finally get your happy ending.

So you disappeared. You booked a flight to The Netherlands and didn’t tell anyone. You wanted to see the country Victoria talked about so much. The little cafes and restaurants she visited when she was there.

You built your own little world, a bubble where no one could hurt you and you couldn’t hurt anyone you cared about. You wouldn’t mind living here. Everyone did their own thing and there were dogs and parks everywhere.

De Oranje Leeuwinnen were playing a few days after you had arrived and you couldn’t let the chance of seeing Victoria play in front of her own people slip.

The stadium was absolutely packed. The orange shirts with the names of female players on them and red, white and blue flags on everyone’s cheeks. Even though Spain had won the World Cup there wasn’t this much attention for the Spanish team. It was something you were jealous of.

It’s been days since you disappeared, Alexia hasn’t texted or called you yet and you were grateful for that. She never knows what’s going through your head but if you don’t reach out in a situation like this, she knew she had to leave you be. She’d be there if you wanted to talk and you didn’t really desire that the past few days. But now you did.

In the hopes that she would pick up in the middle of the day you called. You sat in a little bakery somewhere in The Hague and it felt like the right time.

Three rings had gone by before you got someone on the other end of the phone. “Hola hermanita… Hola?” she said. “Ale, you got time?” you asked her. You heard her laugh, “Not really but you know i’ve always got time for my pequeña princesa.” you could imagine the big grin on her face. You groaned at the stupid nickname. She knew you hated it when she called you that.

“Whatever, i’m talking about like at least an hour. I’ve got a lot to tell you.” you said taking a sip from the overpriced latte. “Sí, i’ve got time for you.” she sighed.

She knew you probably had a lot to talk about. Alexia hadn’t really pushed you to talk about it because she knew you weren’t a great talker and if you really wanted to and if she needed to know, you would tell her.

And so you told her everything, about going to Arsenal and how it had been the first few weeks. How it wasn’t your home and how you felt so so lost there. You told her about Alessia, that she had your heart and she broke it just like that. That you didn’t really want to come out of bed the days after and that that was the reason why you visited her when you did. And about Victoria Pelova, the girl that has been nothing but good to you. Alexia laughed at that, she knew you’d get along, that’s why she told you to give the girl a chance.

“I’m in The Netherlands now Ale, i don’t know what to do now.” You sighed into your phone. “Joder hermanita, you already know what to do. I already know you got your ticket to the game. Dile que la amas.” Alexia always knew what to say. Sometimes it was nice to have a big sister that can tell you what to do. “And next time we play against England, just know i’ll get back at Russo.” she deadpanned. And a sister to protect you.

You had texted Victoria good luck before the game. ‘Hey Vicky, i just wanted to let you know i’ll be at your game today. Please listen to the voicemail i’ve left you a few days ago. Ik hou van jou, je kan het.’ you sent her.

Sitting on the third row you got a pretty good views of the game. It wasn’t a really important game or anything and the chance the orange team won was very high so you weren’t that nervous for the brunette.

In the 17th minute Brugts scored from the penalty area and not long after van de Donk scored too. The first half ended in 3-0.

As the players walked to the changing room you looked for Victoria. When you finally found her eyes, hers were already focused on you. Your lips formed an apologetic smile and you waved at her. She gave you a little smile before disappearing into the tunnel.

The second half went even smoother for the home side. Esmee Brugts got her hattrick and Damaris and Roord scored one each. It was the 88th minute when Kerstin Casparij made a dribble forward. She passed two midfielders and made a perfect cross. The white ball landed on Vic’s foot and she volleyed the ball into the corner of the net.

It was just an Euros qualifier but for you it was much more. You knew today was now or never. It was 8-0 but the crowd was just as loud as it was when the first goal was scored.

The game was over and you saw the team do their lap around the field. You loved how involved they were with their fans, especially the kids. Victoria was somewhere at the back, still signing a little girl’s Arsenal shirt when Damaris spotted you and ran towards your section.

You knew the player well. Damaris used to play for Spain but decided to move to the Dutch team and you got why. She was the first one to do something about the Spanish management and you admired her for it. Your ex-teammate climbed over the fences and when she finally got to you she was out of breath. She gave you a hug and greeted you. “Don’t tell Vic i know but she listened to your message before the game. She’s been sad all camp and doesn’t want to listen to anyone. Just wait at our hotel and i’ll get you in.” she told you before sprinting off again.

So now you were waiting on the orange bus full of players to arrive at some fancy hotel in Amsterdam. You looked like a stalker, dressed in all black with Victoria’s black hat and hoodie on.

After fifteen minutes of waiting the Dutch team finally arrived. All the girls walked past, well everyone except for Vic and Dama.

Damaris walked towards you with two bags in her hands, one with 21 on it and the other with number 17. Victoria walked behind her, confused as why she was carrying her bag inside until she saw you.

“Victoria, you better figure this out because i know you want her and she wants you, okay?” she told the girls strictly. The Arsenal player nodded silently and stood still in front of you.

“Did you hear the voicemail i left you?” you asked her. Her eyes weren’t focused on you but on the big neon letters of the hotel. The blue light was shining on her, making it look like she coloured her hair blue.

“Yeah. I got it, so tell me then, what happened?” her eyes traveled to your face. It was hard to read her at the moment.

“When i came into Arsenal i didn’t know anyone and i was scared and tired of being alone. Alessia helped me at that time until she didn’t need me anymore. One evening i found out she had a boyfriend all along. I was having a hard time after that and went to Alexia for a few days when you texted me.” you smiled at the thought of her text, she really did help you. “Alexia told me to give you a chance and i’m happy i did because you mean so much to me. I don’t think i would be playing football anymore if it wasn’t for you. And then Alessia didn’t like that, she kissed me that evening when you saw us but i told her that i didn’t want her. I swear. I only want you. Te amo, Vicky.” you pleaded.

You were still standing before her, you took your hat off and your right hand was in your pocket while your left was fidgeting with the strings of the black hoodie. “Say something, please.” you begged the brunette. Her silence was killing you.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve just let you explain but i didn’t. It’s just that when i heard Alessia talking to you and then kissing you..” Victoria sighed.

“I get it, you shouldn’t say sorry for that. Can we try again, i really want us to work out.” you smiled.

Victoria’s signature smirk appeared on her face and she leaned in for a kiss. “por supuesto cualquier cosa para ti” she grinned into your neck. “You’ve done your Duolingo sí?” you laughed at her.

“I did, just for you. And maybe just a little bit for when i meet your sister, got to make a good impression on La Reina hmm?” she teased.

A/N finally done!!! I don’t even know how this whole series was planned but this is it, happy ending and all

[kaleldobrev]

The One Bed, Two People Problem (2) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Slightly vulnerable Dean, Self-Loathing Dean & Implied sexual fantasies (very minor)

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⇠ Go Back & Read Chapter 1

"One room please," Dean said, as he plopped down his credit card onto the desk in front of the motel worker: a big grin on his face.

The worker looked at him tiredly and picked up the card. Looking at the name on the card, he looked at Dean, who maintained the same smile. "John Paul Jones?" He asked, his voice matching the tiredness in his eyes. "Like the dude from Led Zeppelin?"

"I get that a lot," Dean stated, trying to sound convincing, despite the motel worker probably not needing to be as he looked tired enough as it is. The worker nodded and started putting Dean's information into the computer; Dean swayed back and forth on his heels, looking around the motel lobby, not enjoying the awkward silence that was between the two. "It's a good thing I'm a Zepp fan," he added, a bit of humor in his voice, as he attempted to make awkward small talk with the man.

"Huh uh," the worker mumbled, not seeming interested in having any sort of conversation with Dean, as he was trying his best to concentrate on what he was doing, as the lack of sleep and pulling all-nighters the last couple of nights was starting to catch up to him in this moment.

Dean started to get slightly nervous, as the worker seemed to be taking a little bit more time than usual to be placing the information into the computer. "Is there a problem with the card?" Dean asked, after the motel worker started making a face that looked similar to confusion.

The worker shook his head. "Nah man. Just tired. It's my third night shift in a row and it's been a killer. Can barely keep my fucking eyes open. But I'm thankful to be doing anything at least. You're the first person I've seen in days, since the regulars haven't even come by." Dean decided not to ask about who or what the regulars were, but he would be lying if he wasn't the least bit curious.

"Surprising," Dean said. "Thought you'd get more on-going business being right on the highway like this. I mean, I've been to Tulsa a few times, and it's always pretty lively, even this time of night."

The man scoffed, almost chuckling at his words. "People don't like motels like they used to. They rather stay at the Holiday Inn down the street. Apparently, motels give people the creeps now," he said, rolling his eyes. "Too much shadiness I guess for people."

"I've stayed at more motels than I can count, and uh, they basically feel like home to me. They've never once given me the creeps," Dean told him, partially telling the truth, as he has stayed at plenty of motels over the years that have had questionable stains and clientele more times than he could count.

The worker nodded, handing Dean back his card. "Alright, we have one room available with a queen," he said.

Dean gave him a semi-puzzled look, unsure how true that really was, as the worker just said that he was the only person he's seen in a few days, and the parking lot was essentially empty besides his and who he assumed to be this man's car. "Nothing with two beds?" Dean asked. He didn't mind sharing a bed with you, but he wanted to get two to be safe, as he was afraid that he'd somehow hurt you in the middle night if he had one of his PTSD style nightmares he occasionally got, more often than he'd like to admit.

"Look, I have one room left. And that one room has one bed that you're either going to have to share with your guest, or one of you is sleeping on the floor," his voice had no hint of tiredness anymore.

"One bed it is," Dean said, his lips forming into a fake smile.

"And you're in room three," the worker smiled, handing Dean the room key.

After getting off the phone with your boyfriend, you hit your head repeatedly against the headrest, frustrated that you had let him get to you again. He was hours away, and yet, he had managed to re-anger you, which was something that you were close to getting rid of during your nice and peaceful drive here.

In addition to your re-anger, you were minutes away from meeting someone new, and there was a part of you that felt bad for Dean, because being angry and mean was the last thing you wanted as your first impression. "Okay, you got this," you whispered to yourself, taking a few breaths before exiting your truck.

Walking out of the motel lobby, Dean started thinking of ways in which he was going to break the cliche news to you, as a one bed for two strangers seemed like something that came straight out of a chick flick or romance novel. "So bad news, we have to share a bed because for some reason despite the motel parking lot being empty as fuck, there was only one room that had a single bed in it," he thought to himself, cocking his head, thinking how saying that to you might work. Then again, he didn't want you thinking that he got a room with a single bed on purpose because you were a chick, and hoping to get lucky. Then again, he certainly wasn't against it...Then again, Sam told him that you had a boyfriend and you were off-limits.

As he started walking toward the room to put his stuff inside and examine the room, he looked at the parking lot, and noticed another vehicle had pulled into the lot since he had come into the motel; and it was parked a few spaces away from Baby. It was a Generation Seven, F150, in a brownish beige color that looked to be in brand new condition.

And that's when he saw you, or at least he hoped it was you, pulling out a large duffel back from the truck bed, that seemed to be a little beat up.

He started walking toward you, making a mental note to introduce himself just far enough way, because he wasn't sure how quick to the draw you were.

You sighed, grabbing your duffel, and slung it over your shoulder, as you were mentally preparing yourself to meet someone new. But you were tired, angry, and a little bit hungry; and all you really wanted to do right now was take a scolding hot shower and hit the pillow face first, instead of making awkward small talk.

"Hey, you must be Y/N," you heard a male voice say from a few feet away from you. Closing your truck bed, you noticed a blonde-haired man, who appeared to be a little over six feet tall, wearing a flannel and denim jacket similar to you, walking in your direction. This must be Dean, you thought.

"And you must be Dean," you said, when he was just a few feet in front of you. As he stood there, he leaned his arm on your truck bed, and stared at you with a smile that could easily melt the iciness that was inside your heart; you hoped that you weren't blushing. You're here to do a job, and you have a boyfriend, you told yourself.

"Nice truck," he complimented, as he patted the side. "Gen seven?" He questioned, but his tone insinuated that he already knew the model; he just wanted to see if you knew. And of course you did, as this truck was one that you had practically re-built over the course of a single summer without barely any help.

You nodded, and smiled at him, practically grinning from ear to ear; your smile was breathtaking. "He sure is. I practically re-built him over the course of a single summer before I started hunting. You should have seen the shape he was in; the whole body was practically rust," you explained.

Dean listened to the way you spoke about your truck, and he admired it, as it was similar to the way he would speak about Baby. But the way you spoke about the truck was not the only thing he was admiring; he was admiring the way the denim jacket you were wearing was slightly falling off your shoulders because of how big it was, as if you had borrowed it from someone Sam's size. Even though it was still slightly dark out, and the harsh yellow lighting was doing nobody any favors, you still somehow looked absolutely gorgeous in this lighting. Your skin looked so smooth, except for a few scars that he noticed in several places. He couldn't help but wonder the stories behind them. You're here to do a job, he reminded himself.

"That's pretty impressive that you re-built him without any help. Not a lot of people can do that," he said, trying his best to pay you a compliment. "Especially since you taught yourself."

"Yeah. My dad knows some stuff about cars, but he's no expert or anything. My best friend was the one who..." your voice trailed off, and you slightly had a blank stare on your face, as if you were reminiscing about something.

"I've re-built Baby more times than I could possibly count," he said, pointing at her for a moment before turning back to you. Your blank stare finally fading.

"When Sam told me, I honestly didn't believe him. You must be really good with your hands," you said, with a slight hint of...was that...flirting? Were you flirting with me? Dean thought. No, there's no way.

He chuckled a little. "I'd like to think so." I'd do anything to put my hands all over you....he thought. "Oh, um, since I got here first," he began, attempting to change the subject before his brain started to create some fantasies. "I was able to get us a room. But, there's only one bed, so we either have to share, or one of us is going to have to sleep on the floor."

You felt your heart starting to race a bit faster now, and your throat was beginning to get a tad dry. Were you actually nervous about the possibility of sharing a bed with the eldest Winchester?

"I don't mind sharing a bed as long as you don't," you said. But as soon as you said those words, your brain was starting to create a moral dilemma. You have a boyfriend, this counts as cheating, you thought. No, it doesn't count as cheating, I don't plan on sleeping with him as much as I'd like to.

"I don't mind. But uh...just a heads up, I get um...nightmares," he said, sounding hesitant.

"It's okay, I get them too," you reassured. "Want to head inside then and see if we can get a few hours before we go to the station tomorrow?"

Dean nodded. "Sounds good to me," he smiled.

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 3

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[cindol]

if ur requests are open can I request earthy black girl! reader x jjk men i love ur writing lots

jjk men and their earthy black gf !

jujutsu kaisen x black fem reader

incl — nanami kento , sukuna ryomen, gojo satoru, geto suguru and shiu kong .

cw + — established relationships, slightly suggestive with gojo, reader has locs, cult leader geto,

| NANAMI KENTO

he originally met you when saving you from a curse on your shoulder before it could develop and kill you in his usual bakery. It confused you when he tapped your shoulder and got you turning to him but he made up the excuse of swatting a fly away and ever since you developed a relationship with you.

Nanami’s favorite thing about you was how in touch you were with your roots and how you weren’t someone very big on technology, a simple tv and android does good for you and that’s just how he liked it with you.

Nanami's usual activity with you was to stroll through your garden with you just picking any fruit or veggie and in season flowers.

You always refuse to let him go without a meal after work. You always saw how drained he looked after work and tutted at that while prepping to cook.

“aye, just stay there baby. You’re crazy if you think I’ll let my boyfriend just go to bed without a meal.” saying it while getting ready to chop up some veggies and greens for a soup.

Your relationship with plants is what impressed, hearing you coo and sing at your venus flytrap while plopping a bug into it’s trapping mouth made him curious and intrigued.

“if you don’t mind me asking dear, what makes you sing to it?”

you were still humming while feeding the plant their bug of the day then stopped to answer.“a venus plant is a living thing, kento and living beings need some love and words of encouragement to grow, don't cha’ think?”

| SUKUNA RYOMEN

sukuna’s old school, always has been and always will be so your earthy nature wasn’t something he was bothered by. How natural you were with everything you did reminded him of his childhood in a way, always seeing his mother in their garden.

As earthy as you are he refused to let you garden in dirty gloves, he actually scoffed in disbelief seeing you in the gloves.” you needed a new pair of gloves you could’ve really told me woman.’’

You abruptly stopped to chuckle at your boyfriend.’’i’m not a materialistic person ‘kuna, these gloves of mine have done just their job for years.’’

Anything you say goes out one ear and the other for him.”nonsense, i refuse to have you garden in those unruly gloves, i’ll call uraume to pick up a pair of gardening gloves the nearest store i’m sure they won’t mind.’’

sukuna likes to see you in your most natural state. You liked to do some little glam, a little eyelashes and lip gloss but he liked when you were all natural. To him, seeing your brunette colored locs in a ponytail and you in your dark green robe showing some cleavage was his favorite sight of you when you entered the kitchen.

sukuna not being careful of his own health doesn’t slide around him. a simple cough or wound makes you immediately take any herbs and first aid kit out.

“uraume won’t be here always to take care of you ‘kuna, you gotta let me take care of you.”

when you try to put an evil eye necklace around his necklace a loud roar of laughter comes from his mouth.“No damn necklace will protect me of all people from any bad spirit.”

| SATORU GOJO

After a long day with his students he enjoyed being with you. When he enters your house you shush up whatever ranting he’s gonna ramble about the elders.

“Let's just forget all of that, yeah? I think a nice fresh water bath would do you some good today.” whilst shutting him up and taking off his black blindfold.

gojo enjoyed bathing with you just to have a front row to see how you untie your locs and see them drop down to your back along with your towel to show your….assets.

gojo liked how natural you were down to your hair. When he asked for you to dye your hair the same color as his he was excited to see your once brown locs now a snow white color in your black headwrap.

“thought hair dye went against like, the earthy thing?”

a small tittering sound came from your mouth at that.“Henna hair dye. The earth has many resources satoru.”

| SUGURU GETO

suguru appreciates how down to earth you are, he sees it as a good influence on his girls. Being a cult leader can be taxing and takes up much of his time so when you’re around to remind them they’re not so alone when geto’s on cult leader duties it makes him happy.

when you both are alone in his master bedroom hearing how you spent the day with the girls picking tender plump fruits from the family garden and putting them into your hand made wooden baskets to bring home.

geto isn't one to restrict how you choose to dress. He’ll gladly wear his yukata with a gold kasaya garment while you walk around the place in a strapless knitted olive green dress and knitted white long sweater, and whoever has an issue with it can take it up with him

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Sweaty Palms 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Curtis Everett

Summary: You start going to the gym to break old habits, but new things are scary.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You’ve never been to a gym before. You’ve never been to a lot of places. Crowds are not your forte, public places are your personal nightmare, and strangers make your nervous. Everything makes you nervous. 

You can’t hide forever. That’s the conclusion you’ve come to. It's not a very comfortable one for you but if you don’t change, you’re always going to feel like this. Heavy, deflated, lost. It’s hard to put into words the feeling. The world just seems to pass you by, it functions around you, and sometimes you almost believe you’re not really there. Like a ghost, you just watch it without effect. 

The extra fifteen dollars a month isn’t too much of a stretch. You can hold off on your Kindle addiction for the expense. That’s another thing, you need to start being smart, more practical with your money. 

Planning. That’s something you’re working on. You didn’t come without one. You wouldn’t make it past the door without a set of steps to follow. 

You stop by the front counter first. You ask the woman behind it about how to get into the gym. You bought a membership online. She brings up your profile and issues you a membership card, explaining how you can also download the app and register with your member number. You thank her and continue through. 

You walk along the first floor, the leg machines and the rowing machines being worked by the regulars. You find your way to the dressing room on the second floor and enter with your head down. You try not to look anywhere but where you need to. You find a stall and change, packing away your street clothes, then go out to find a locker to shove your stuff in. 

You emerge with your phone and your new smart watch strapped to your wrist. You glance at the face of it. Your heart rate is already elevated. You unlock your phone and tap the app you downloaded the day before. You flipped through the catalogue of beginners’ workouts but didn’t have any of the equipment to do it yourself. It’s cheaper to just come here. 

You go to one of the spaces laid with mats and stop before one of the racks of weights. You stare at your phone in exasperation. You don’t understand, you’re connected to the wifi but the app just won’t connect. You could try on your own but you really don’t know what you’re doing. 

Ugh, why did you even bother? This is just another failure. You try restarting the app and then your phone, aware of the activity around you. Does anyone notice how clueless you look? 

“Hit it or quit it, little girl,” a man startles you as he brushes by you and grabs a large set of dumbbells, the thirty on the side catching your eye. You shift out of the way and press your phone against your chest, the smooth fabric of your shirt causing it to vibrate as if you tapped the screen. “This isn’t the phone club, it’s a gym.” 

“Sorry, I...” 

“There’s a cafe across the street, you can go play candy crush there,” he scoffs, “seems more your speed.” 

“Must feel real big, huh?” A gritty voice nears from your other side, “real heavy lifting there, pushing around a woman.” 

“Huh?” The first man narrows his eyes as he grips the set of dumbbells at his sides and faces the other man.  

He’s taller than you, muscular but not too bulky. His head is shaved and a dark short beard lines his jaw. Similar hair peeks out from the top of his tee shirt and dusts his toned arms. He slips past you, inserting himself between you and the gym watchdog. 

“Bro,” the first guy sneers, “don’t even start with me. You think you can step up.” 

“I’m not stepping up,” the other man defies, “I’m telling you to mind your business. Take your weights and leave her alone.” 

“Pfft, this some sort of date? You know, this isn’t the Olive Garden--” 

The second man crosses his arms, his back to you as he postures at the other man. He’s silent as he stares him down. You can’t see his face but you can feel the tension roiling off of him. There’s a thick lull as both men stand in a deadlock. 

“Got something to say, bud,” the first guy drops the weights and they boom against the floor. You wince and step back, “go on, I could use the work out.” 

“I said it,” the second man utters flatly, unyielding as he looms like a wall between you. 

“Fucking loser,” the other spits back, “you’re really gonna fuck around for that? Have you seen the skin around her?.” 

The man doesn’t respond. He stays as he is, an unmoving sentinel. The other man growls in frustration. 

“Fucking chicken shit, why don’t you speak up, dude?” 

Still no answer. Just a glare. You clutch your phone against your chest, frozen in horror and confusion. You didn’t mean to start a fight. You hate confrontation. 

Suddenly, the man before you jerks as he’s grabbed by the large man. His back hits you slightly and you drop your phone as he latches onto the other man. Everything happens so fast. The man who came to your defence has the other man on his back on the mat in seconds, a knee on his chest as his fists clasp around the top of his tank top. He bends over him and snarls. 

“Christ, bro, get the fuck off of me,” the man on the floor shoves on his arm helplessly.  

You glance around and notice the audience forming around you. Oh no. You look back to the two men. You step forward and tap the closest man on the shoulder, the one who defended you. 

“Please,” you croak nervously, “I don’t wanna get in trouble.” 

He turns his head, glancing back at you with powder blue eyes made bright by the dark row of his lashes. He exhales and lets go of the other man. He stands and puts his arm out as if to keep your behind him. 

“You really want me to repeat myself?” He sneers down at the other man. 

The larger man pushes himself up and scowls, shaking his head and he turns to stalk off muttering, leaving behind his forgotten dumbbells. The other man bends to pick them up and returns them to the rack. You look down at your empty hands then search the floor. 

You reach for your phone but it’s plucked up before you. The man brings it up between you and holds it out. You take it with a thank you. 

“No problem,” he rasps. 

“I... you didn’t have to--” 

“That guy’s an—he's not nice,” he corrects himself and drags his hand over his mouth and chin, “I don’t like bullies.” 

“It’s my fault,” you shrug, “I was in the way. But er, thanks. I'm... I’m sorry.” 

You turn away and look back at your phone. The app isn’t working. It says it needs another update. 

“You need help with something?” The man asks. 

“I...” you peek at him over your shoulder, “yeah, I... I don’t... I don’t usually... it’s my first time.” 

He nods and hums as he steps closer. You face him and show him your phone. You’re jittery as it trembles in your grip. He’s a stranger. Your whole plan was to avoid those. 

“I got this app to help but it’s not working,” you frown. 

“Try the update?” He points his thick, long finger at the screen. 

You tap and keep the phone visible. The app shop comes up and the update button is grayed out. Underneath, italics read ‘this update is not available for this device’. You frown and bring the screen closer to your face. 

“It won’t let me,” you pout and flick your lashes, mortified. How are you this helpless? Why did you have to have a witness? Several. You look around, some eyes darting in your direction. 

“Hm, well, what are you trying to do? You said this is your first day?” He prompts, “I could... I could help out a little. If you need. I’m no trainer, I just do my own thing but I could try.” 

You bat your lashes up at him then look back at your phone. You don’t know what else to do. Your whole plan has fallen apart because your operating system is outdated. 

“I... I’m not very... athletic,” you explain, “so I can’t go very fast.” 

“That’s okay,” he assures you, “I can go slow.” 

“You don’t have to do that. I can figure it out.” 

“I know I don’t have to,” he shifts and peers over his shoulder, “but how about I stay close anyway,” he moves and you can see the guy from earlier staring daggers from a chest press, “just in case.” 

“Oh, I... I’m sorry,” you tuck your phone into the pocket of your leggings, “I made him mad.” 

“Let him be mad. Got nothing to do with you,” he turns back to you again, “I could take you through some stretches and basics; lunges, squats, stuff like that. As best I can.” 

“Erm, I guess... I don’t wanna be in the way,” you rub your neck. 

“Not in my way,” he says evenly, “lets grab some weights first.” 

He directs you to the rack and without a thought you go to it. He approaches beside you as you realise, you didn’t say yes, you didn’t agree to this, but you don’t know what else to do. 

“Start with some twos,” he advises, “and if you’re not getting a good burn, we can up it later.” 

“Oh, okay,” you grab the dumbbells with the large twos on the side. He grabs the twenties. You feel totally inadequate. 

“So let’s get out space,” he backs up and looks around the mat, “here should be good.” He bends and sets down his weights, "for now, let’s put these aside and start our stretches. You don’t wanna pull anything.” 

You nod and place your weights beside you. You stand and stare at him. He’s in good shape. Great shape. He makes you even more conscious of your neglect. You already feel breathless. 

“I’m Curtis by the way,” he steps forward and offers his hand. 

“Oh, uh,” you shake his hand and give your name. 

“Pretty,” he says as he squeezes before letting you go. His hand is huge compared to yours and the gap in your strength is obvious just in that small gesture. 

“Alright, easy, slow, arms out,” he extends arms, “roll your shoulders and your head, loosen up.” 

You watch him and hesitate to follow his direction. You hate that there’s so many people around. You don’t want to look stupid. You’re so ungainly and awkward.  

“Try not to think about it too much. We’re all just here to work out, right?” He says and you shy away, embarrassed that he noticed your discomfort. You raise your arms and start the stretches, “good, you’re doing good, angel. Make sure to breath, alright?” 

You roll your shoulders and head and blow out a breath. Your nerves are pinging all over and your muscles are shaky. This isn’t what you expected at all. Your plans fallen to pieces and yet, it’s not entirely a lost cause. 

“Arms up,” he guides you into the next exercise, “on your toes, reach as far as you can...” 

You obey, letting his voice guide you. His deep, calm timber is almost comforting. The even tenor is a stark contrast to chaotic nervously. You can get through this. 

[mrkified]

ONE NIGHT ONLY — 9. life360 doesn’t gatekeep

synopsis — three years since your falling out with lee donghyuck he has suddenly transfered to your college in hopes to make it big with his friends in his band. unfortunately for you, your unresolved friendship started causing problems between you and the people around you, especially since your best friend is his ex. so — why have you found yourself in his room with a raging hangover?

a/n; IM SO SORRY FOR ANOTHER WRITTEN PART

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YOU SLOWED DOWN YOUR CAR AS YOU TURNED INTO THE PARKING LOT.

the arcade your friends decided to go to was called ‘pete’s paradise’. it was slightly small but jam packed with different rows filled with a variety of games. your friends always loved to go there after yangyang got off work to play air hockey. anton always complained that karina was too good for the group and never wanted to go against her because he knew he would lose. when you walked up to the entrance to pete’s haechan and jisung were standing by the doors waiting for you to arrive. you said your hello’s to the two of them entered the building.

you immediately spotted your friends by the dance dance revolution machine, jaemin and giselle were both playing while anton was bickering with yangyang and karina.

“well it’s not my fault you were acting like we haven’t seen each other for ten years” anton shrugged.

“it’s called an expression you idiot” karina rolled her eyes. “your brain just too small to figure out context clues” she turned away from anton and noticed you three at the door.

“yn! you’re here!” she ran over and gave you a hug. the rest of the group followed after when they noticed she said your name.

“i see you followed our advice and brought jisung! just a little surprise to see haechan too” giselle spoke up, as it was your turn to give her a hug next.

“um yeah.. we didn’t want to exclude him i hope that’s okay” you were quite nervous about giselle and haechan in the same room but hopefully she would stay true to her word and not be too bothered with you two.

after awhile things tended to get less awkward and everyone was having fun — anton was playing whack-a-mole with jisung, yangyang was with jaemin and giselle and they were playing some racing game, and that left karina with you as haechan went to the bathroom. you took the time spent with her to tell her about how you’ve been feeling so you could finally get advice from a third party.

“haechan has a crush on me. he told me a few days ago and i don’t know how to feel about it. i mean i had a crush on him in high school but it was too late, he was already with giselle. now i feel like i shouldn’t do anything about it because you know how heartbroken he left her and i don’t want to make her upset or uncomfortable” you were fidgeting with your fingers when you looked at her as she was trying to piece together a response.

“well you can’t control someone you like. i know you don’t want to hurt giselle but i think you should go for it. they broke up almost four years ago, plus she has a really nice thing going on with jaemin right now. she did say not to date him and as much as i don’t want secrets in the group, you should date him” she was confirming the only real way you had to go about this — a secret relationship.

“he’s taking me on a date later after we leave”

“what about jake? you didn’t break up that long ago, i know your feelings for haechan are genuine but you still got hurt recently” her voice was filled with concern.

“i am definitely hurt but i think him leaving me for yuna made me feel like there wasn’t even a point for me to even be upset, he was distant even before we broke up there really isn’t any surprises” karina looked at you like she was giving you her approval and that’s all you needed. you would talk to giselle on your own soon but first you had to put your relationship with donghyuck first.

while you were having your talk with karina, giselle was also having a conversation with yangyang.

“i feel a little upset with them being together if i’m being honest, but i know i should probably get over it” she gave a slight smile as she knew that she couldn’t block out what was happening between you two. “i know they’ve been best friends for years and now that they’ve rekindled it i shouldn’t feel this way, but i just feel a lot of the repressed emotions from before i guess”

“and your feelings are valid you know,” yangyang took a slight pause. “he was your first real relationship, your first true love. it would only make sense it hurts to see him”

“i just don’t want to ruin this for yn. she’s my best friend and i don’t want to hurt her because i ‘forbid’ her from associating someone she spent so many years with”

“just give it time — for now just focus on the fashion show and then give it some more thought after” yangyang squeezed her hand as he got up and walked with her back over to where jaemin was playing skee-ball.

for the next 2 hours everyone spent time rotating the games until it was the time to go their separate ways. you said goodbye to everyone until it was time to finally leave with haechan.

“you ready?” haechan took your hand and guided you to your car.

“are you ready to be a passenger princess?”

“i’m always ready to be your passenger princess you don’t even need to ask” he got into the car and showed you where he wanted to take you — a small shopping district not too far away from where you were.

[alexisomnias]

— BESIDE YOU . .

⤷ moving in with them after graduation

featuring HEARTSLABYUL

 RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

• He wants everything to be perfect. He wants you to be happy every second of the day your home, he loves you so much haha. So expect him to be a little stiff and nervous at the beginning

• He establishes household rules with you. The rules aren’t stuffy or stiff but more so schedule like rules. Examples being who does what chores on what day, not to do this, boundaries, etc.)

• Riddles own household situation was AWFUL; so he wants the complete opposite for you! He won’t allow you to be reckless, but he won’t allow the house to feel strain or unwelcoming. So he gets you to help him loosen up a bit!

• He is NOT doing the cooking on his own. Get him a cookbook or help him with it lol, he won’t get cooking on his own. But it’s a cute learning experience + bonding time for you both

• Riddle unfortunately will not cuddle you in bed , which sucks since he’s a heater on his own. His skin is always warm, so if you want to cuddle him, just hold him

• Strict bedtime schedule for him. You can go to bed and wake up anytime but he’s in bed by 9:30pm and awake by 6:30am

• HE HAS A GARDEN GOING! He plants a rose field in your backyard along with some strawberries. It’s a red row outside. Beautiful though

• You don’t even have to worry about the bathroom tbh, Riddle doesn’t spend a lot of time on his appearance. He spends enough that he looks refined, but it’s not overdone either

• He actually found a struggle in picking a place aha, money wasn’t the problem he just overthought every aspect of the home. Whether or not you’d be comfortable, how much space would it be, the conditions. So you did help with the picking lol

• This is his first time actually losing contact with his mother, which is a larger step than you may think. But he’s okay with it since he’s doing it alongside you, and he’s so, so much happier since his everyday starts and ends with you

 ACE TRAPPOLA

• Ace is ecstatic to finally be moving in with you. He’s excited to finally take this big step into each others lives. Though he may not show it, he’s also pretty nervous. He doesn’t want you to get sick of him…

• God give you patience because you’ll need it. This man will test a tiny bit every day

• Ace isn’t very accustomed to household chores lol, so you may need to do some heavy lifting. He will do the dishes though

• I can see you two having smaller meals rather then larger ones, just smaller quick heat-up meals, unless your a huge cooker, then he’s not complaining

• He’s fucking NERVOUS when you two agree to sleep on the same bed, he’ll tease you while his brain runs miles on whether or not he snores or kicks in his sleep

• Everyday is pretty fun and chill with him, whether it’s just casually throwing pillows at one another; random hugs in the hallway, or just chilling on the couch watching movies.

• I can see Ace as a kid who sleeps with a light on 😭 so expect a little night light next to his side of the bed when falling asleep.

• Ace will mistake your clothing with his, and no he does not care. His clothes are yours, so yours are his. A fair deal, no?

• On the earlier days of the move in, Ace wanted to be seen as a reliable significant other, and would often do grand domestic gestures akin to one’s in books or movies. Later on though he’s chilled and it’s like living with a roommate.

• ITS A FIGHT FOR THE SHOWER, he’d spend an hour in the shower, and two in the bath. Bro takes FOREVER just to never brush his hair

• Ace is more of a roommate than a househusband, he can be annoying or caring. It really depends on the day haha.

 DEUCE SPADE

• He’s scared shitless. He’s making a huge step in his life moving in with you! It’s the first time he’s moving out of his moms home, and he’s worried moving in together will cause a small strain and lead to arguments

• All his worrying was for naught though, as once you two move in together it’s literally a cute slice of life perfect movie

• Deuce is either able to cook a good meal, or he burns down the kitchen. He can make smaller meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But larger meals is something he should get help on

• Speaking of meals he ensures you eat all three meals a day! It’s good for you, and if you’re not hungry he’ll mix up a fruit bowl or something small like that for you to munch on.

• It’s either shocking or not that his favourite thing of home life to do with you is shop. It’s kind of weird, but the process of creating a shopping list, planning meals, then going out and buying the groceries before helping carry them in just make his heart flutter. He’s helping you, and in a way it solidifies that you both are in each others lives.

• He may develop insomnia because he gets so nervous sleeping next to you! It takes a while before he grows accustomed to your presence. It’s not your fault, he’s just a nervous wreck.

• He FaceTime's his mom every week to check up on her 🥹 sometimes you’ll be next to him and she’ll talk to you asking for an honest answer on how Deuce has been holding up. It’s an adorable family situation. You guys aren’t even married but it feels like she’s your mama too.

• He wants to adopt a pet with you, doesn’t  matter what kind. I can see Deuce as a huge family oriented guy, so a small cat or dog (or something else if you’re allergic) to take care of together would make him super happy!

• He’ll probably do most of the driving around unless you enjoy it. He likes driving you around in a car, or he’ll take you out for a night drive on his magi-wheel after dinner

• He takes a lot of time in the morning to get his makeup perfect, and to straighten his hair haha

 CATER DIAMOND

• HE WAS SO EXCITED TO MOVE IN WITH YOU! Big step who? He only knows excitement!

• Through this you see all sides of Cater. He can’t bare to keep up his always smiles at home, so while at home you’ll see him be much more relaxed and quiet. He doesn’t keep to himself, but he isn’t as bright as he seems to be on average.

• He admits that he loves the concept of being in each others lives like this, making a permanent mark on each others everyday.

• He isn’t a huge eater, so you really don’t need to make lunch or even sometimes breakfasts for him.

• He makes daily posts on Magicam and Twstter about some things of your day to day, whether it’s a meal you make, just cuddling or funny stories you can expect an update on living from cay-cay everyday!

• He takes at least 10 photos everyday, you know those moms who take a photo of you every second? He’s like that, he adores memories. He has his own little album under the bed he sometimes looks through..

• He's HUGEEE on décor, so expect him to do most of the furnishing and going furniture shopping with you once you two buy a house! He loves it.

• The communication with the bathroom is actually pretty good, you both have a schedule for who will shower when, and you both do your makeup and hair together <3

• When in bed, he’ll wrap his legs and entangle them with yours! He likes feeling connected to you (if you’re uncomfortable with that, he may also hold your hand!)

• He takes you out on a date at least once every two weeks! Whether it’s in the home, or out for dinner he ensures to treat you and make you feel loved.

• Cater organizes your outfits for the day sometimes!! He’ll make you both some matching outfit plans sometimes, or he’ll spend the night before setting up outfits for the next day, going through the closets and working with you.

• He enjoys being able to relax and settle down with you in the comfort of the home, with a blanket over him not needing to worry about the stress of being unliked or ruining the mood. Simply enjoying each other.

 TREY CLOVER

• You’d think you were living together for years by how perfect everything seems with him??

• He’s got the house all cleaned, and knows how to keep it that way, he has a schedule already set for you and him. HES GOT EVERYTHING !!

• As you should expect, he does most of the cooking, he likes having decent size meals, normally two food to each dinner (a side dish and main). He also always has dessert for you both ready! He bakes during the day sometimes when neither of you are working!

• Definitely tries to ensure if you have unhealthy habits you get them on the healthier side. Like poor eating habits and insomnia he tries to help best he can.

• Run for the hills, he’ll ensure you spend ten minutes brushing your teeth every morning and night. He never stops, he’ll spend 30 minutes in the bathroom just brushing his teeth istg

• Trey probably wakes up 7:30 sharp or something like that. So rip your ears if you don’t like alarms

• Househusband for real, he’ll do the chores around the house though sometimes you guys set a plan on who will do what

• He’s very schedule oriented, he has a day plan for everyday lol

• He’ll do the grocery shopping for you! But sometimes you have to go with him to ensure he doesn’t overspend on baking ingredients haha!

• Trey isn’t a huge cuddler but he will wrap his arms around you sometimes! Or he’ll touch skin with you

[cosmerelists]

If Cosmere Characters Were on Tumblr...

Sure, we blog about Cosmere characters. But what if they were here, blogging for themselves? Here is what I think it might be like...

1. Dalinar: Never changes the default icon

He gets blocked a lot.

Dalinar: How odd. No matter how many blogs I follow, my “dashboard” remains empty.

Renarin: I think they all blocked you because they think you’re a bot.

Dalinar: A bot? But I took your advice and chose a unique blog name: Big_D9762.

Renarin: ...

Dalinar: What?

2. Jasnah: Acts like Neil Gaiman

She comes on tumblr as a break from doing research and ruling, answers a few questions, and leaves again.

Anonymous asked: I love your work breaking down gender barriers in Alethkar by being queen and stuff! Do you plan to further erode unnecessary gender distinctions, like by letting women eat spicy food and show both hands?

Jasnah-Kholin: Wait and See.

3. Vin: Reblogs a thousand things in a mad fury and then disappears for days

She does not use the queue function.

Vin: Yeah...I don’t fuck with the the queue function. If you see me, you see me.

Elend: Hey Vin, did you reblog the crab rave like 15 times in a row?

Vin: I was feeling it.

4. Elend: Has a carefully curated queue

His “queue” tag is “Vin is a queue-T.”

Elend: The only exception I make are donation posts and political ones, since those need to be reblogged immediately.

Elend: But otherwise, the queue function is great for lovely, regular content!

5. Adolin: Runs a fashion blog

He has ALL of the Rosharan runways.

Adolin: It’s easy to let Alethi fashion dominate, but a REAL fashion blogger makes sure to have a wide variety of nations and fashions.

6. Shallan: Posts her art

And she tries not to be frustrated when her quick Kaladin sketch gets tons more notes than her very detailed sketch of the chasmfiend.

Shallan: It’s like, I get it--Kaladin fan art is ALWAYS popular.

Shallan: But that chasmfiend was very detailed!

Adolin: Maybe you should draw Kaladin riding it.

Adolin: Shirtless.

Shallan: ...

Shallan: I’ll take my three notes, thank you very much.

7. Tien: Always reblogs no-note art posts

And he always leaves a nice comment too!

Tien: The colors in this are so lovely!!

8. Navani: Considers herself a tumblr patron

She’s one of those bloggers who, if she reblogs your post, you know you’re about to make it big.

Navani: I don’t really make original posts, of course. I’m not a real blogger.

Navani: I just find other people’s clever posts and help promote them!

Navani (typing): "This...has...10,000...notes...to...me...”

Navani: You know they’re happy when they just respond “PLEASE NO”

9. Kelsier: Stirs up his followers with so. much. discourse.

Especially about Hoid.

Kelsier: Friendly reminder that Hoid (1) will let a planet burn to get what he wants; (2) beat up an innocent ghost (me) once; (3) is dating someone WAY younger than he is; (4) insults women.

Hoid: I insulted men too. I was the King’s Wit.

Kelsier: I’m adding you to my DNI.

10. Szeth: Very popular for his “shit posts”

Szeth, of course, is 100% sincere the entire time.

Szeth: It is odd.

Szeth: The vent post I made that simply said “my talking sword is a bad conversationalist” has like a million notes.

Szeth: ...

Szeth: Tumblr is a strange place.  

[happy74827]

Beyond Repair

[William Afton x Wife!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite everything he’s done, so far the only consequence he’s received is marriage counseling {GIF Creds: @bittwitchy// Tagging @moonbanana-library because I feel like you’ll enjoy this}

WC: 2595

Category: Slight Fluff, Slight Angst [TW — Afton, cursing, small mentions of 18+ content]

Don’t we love random sparks of inspiration at four in the morning? I sure do 💀

『••✎••』

You were always a clueless little thing.

You saw the world with rose-tinted glasses, and you believed in everyone. You saw the best in people, and you wanted to see the world like that.

And it wasn't a bad way to look at things; it kept you innocent and full of light. William, however, wasn't as good as you were. He had seen the world for what it was, and he knew how the world worked.

He'd lost his innocence, and he had seen bad things… done bad things. Sure, he was good with kids, but he had a secret side that he knew would completely crumble the way you saw the world, how you saw him.

So, despite everything, he made sure you'd never know. He kept the darker side of himself out of your view. And he did everything he could to be the husband you thought he was.

Soon, that husband's facade became a father's facade, and you had a beautiful daughter who had his eyes and your smile.

But he knew the truth.

He'd never been a good man. Not even close.

The moment his eyes landed on you, the day he'd met you, the years he got to spend with you, and the day he had asked you to be his wife. Every step in between, he knew that he didn't deserve any of it. He knew that he should have let you go.

But he was selfish.

He needed you. He loved you. Your innocence was refreshing. And your optimism was addicting.

William knew that he didn't deserve anything, except for maybe an early death. Yet, despite knowing all that, he was greedy. He was an ambitious man, and he took every opportunity that presented itself to him.

Even if that meant hurting the ones around him.

Because you see, the only thing in this world he wanted more than your love was the recognition he'd never gotten. And the respect.

So when he'd built his pizzeria and made his animatronics, he saw just how successful it became, and he saw just how many people knew him and just how much respect he was finally getting.

That's when he realized.

That's when the real William began to show himself. And that was his big mistake. That mentality led him to this grandma's couch, impatiently awaiting for hell to begin.

Marriage counseling.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head, trying to hold back a laugh. This was so pathetic. For years, he's crossed lines and done things that would put him on death row, and he'd never had a single issue. Yet, one small argument with you, and suddenly he's a man with a failing marriage?

What kind of joke was this?

Turns out the clueless little thing that you were had taken his little stunt a lot more seriously than he had anticipated.

"This is ridiculous," William groaned, slumping back into his seat as he stared up at the ceiling. "This is going to be a waste of time. All we need is a vacation, and it'll all work out just fine.”

You just stared at him with a look of disbelief and a small bit of disgust. Quite adorable, if he was honest.

"Really, William?" You said, rolling your eyes. "It's going to take a little more than a vacation to fix our relationship."

William turned to look at you, and he felt his heart twinge when he saw just how upset you were. His lips parted, and he felt a surge of regret wash over him.

He really hated seeing you like this.

You were the only person who ever seemed to make him feel remorse, and right now was no exception.

He opened his mouth, trying to find the words to tell you that he was sorry, but he stopped himself before he could say anything.

Because he wasn't sorry.

Not really.

“Ah, the Aftons, I presume?" A voice said, and William looked away from you, looking to the front of the room.

A man, most likely in his late 40's, was standing by the doorway. His dark hair had streaks of grey in it, and he had a few wrinkles. He was wearing a brown turtleneck and a pair of black pants.

His face was unreadable, and William couldn't tell what he was thinking. But he could tell that this was the same therapist he'd spoken with on the phone.

"I'm Doctor Miller. It's nice to finally meet you both." The therapist smiled and held his hand out.

William sighed, pushing himself off of the couch, and stood up. He shook his hand and forced a smile. "Likewise."

The Doctor nodded and glanced at you. He smiled and walked over to you, extending his hand.

You shook his hand and flashed a warm smile. The smile didn't meet your eyes, though. His smile was fake, and so was yours.

Maybe you were more similar than William had first assumed.

The doctor let go of your hand and stepped back. "Let's get started then."

William sat down, slouching his posture and staring up at the ceiling. He thought about wrapping his arm around you, pulling you closer to him, and holding you tight, but he thought better of it.

You'd probably reject his affection anyway. For being a clingy wife, you were surprisingly good at pushing him away.

Doctor Miller grabbed a notepad and a pen, walked to the chair beside the couch, and sat down.

He smiled the first genuine one out of the three of you, and opened the notepad.

"Alright, Mrs. Afton, I'd like you to start off. Tell me what happened." He said, his gaze fixed on you. Of course, he was already taking your side.

William glanced at you and raised an eyebrow. This should be good.

You hesitated before speaking. "He’s… well, different lately. He's distant. And cold. I hardly see him anymore, and when I do, he doesn't talk to me. He spends all of his time either in the basement or his office."

Doctor Miller wrote something down and nodded his head. "Is there any particular reason you believe this is happening?"

“No, but he has been acting more aggressive lately. I tried to talk to him about it, and he just snapped. It was like he wasn't even listening. Like his mind was somewhere else."

William stared at you. You sounded so sincere. So hurt. If he had a heart, he's sure it would be aching.

Doctor Miller hummed, nodding his head, and turned to William.

"What was the argument about, Mr. Afton?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

William looked at the doctor, and two options popped into his mind. Option one is to tell the doctor his true feelings. You were being ridiculous and childish. He didn't need your bullshit. He had more important things to worry about. Or, option two, lie.

He was always good at lying.

William sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He glanced at you and started to speak.

"She's right; I've been a little cold recently. I've just been stressed out. My business has been a lot lately, and I've been dealing with a few other personal issues. Stress isn't a good look on me, I'm afraid."

He lied, flashing a small sad smile at the doctor.

Doctor Miller looked at him for a moment before writing something down.

"Well, it sounds to me like there are a few issues in your relationship." He said, putting his notepad on the table and resting his arms on his lap. “One of them is a communication issue, which is not uncommon in relationships like this. I believe I can help you, but I want to ask you both a question first."

"What's the question?" You asked, and the Doctor turned to you, a soft look in his eyes.

"Are you still in love with him?"

You and William both tensed up, and the room was silent for a moment. He couldn’t help but turn to look at you, genuinely curious to hear what you were going to say.

You hesitated, your eyes locked on the ground. William felt his stomach churning and his jaw clenched.

He was actually nervous.

For the first time in a long time, William was actually nervous.

You turned to look at him, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him.

"Yes. I still love him."

Doctor Miller nodded and turned to William. "What about you? Are you still in love with your wife?"

Truth be told, you were the only person who ever came close to making William feel love. Vanessa was a close second, but he wasn't sure if it was the same kind of love. At least, not in the way he felt about you.

If this was love, then he was still in love.

"Always.” He spoke without a moment of hesitation. He gave you a warm smile, pulling that facade back up again. “…That's why I'm here."

The doctor smiled, and William swore he saw the tiniest hint of pity in his eyes. "That's good. That means there's still hope for your relationship.”

With all the money this one therapy session was costing him, he damn well hoped so.

"So, here's my idea," the doctor said, sitting up in his seat and clearing his throat. "I'd like to start off with a few activities, some couples challenges, if you will. This will help me understand where the problem areas are, and hopefully, after a few sessions, we'll be able to fix them. If not, we'll find a solution together. Sound good?"

Activities? Challenges? What was this, summer camp?

William resisted the urge to roll his eyes and nodded. "Sounds great."

You nodded, smiling, and William swore he saw a bit of excitement in your eyes. He wondered how much this meant to you. Had you really thought you were losing him?

"Perfect," the doctor said and grabbed his notepad. He flipped the page and started writing something down.

With the amount of writing this guy was doing, you'd think this was a novel. It took a lot out of him to not get up and snap the damn pen in half.

"Now, this might seem a little strange, but I want to try an activity right now. Something small and easy, so we can gauge your relationship and see how you interact with each other."

"What kind of activity?" You asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Something simple, don't worry. Just a conversation."

Conversation. That sounded boring.

William was about to complain when the doctor cut him off.

"When was the last time you two were… intimate?"

William's eyebrows furrowed, and he stared at the Doctor, whose gaze was fixed on him.

Was he asking what he thought he was asking?

William felt his face heat up and his jaw clenched.

He had to be kidding.

"I'm sorry, but what does that have to do with anything?" He asked, forcing his voice to sound calm.

The doctor turned his head to you, and you just looked down at the ground.

William was going to lose it.

"Being… connected with your spouse in that way is an important aspect of a healthy relationship. Without that sincerity, that vulnerability, you'll start to grow apart."

"We're perfectly connected," William said through gritted teeth. “What do you think you're implying here?"

He knew you like the back of his hand. He could read you like a book, and he was confident to know what you were thinking, doing, or feeling at all times.

He knew that look.

Your eyes were downcast, your hands were fidgeting, and your bottom lip was slightly jutted out.

You were embarrassed, and he knew he had to act. Play the good husband role, and save you the humiliation.

He reached his arm over and wrapped it around your shoulder, pulling you gently upwards. Your body tensed at his touch, but you relaxed when you looked up and saw his warm smile.

"See? We're completely connected." William said, his arm squeezing your shoulder. “I believe this is where our time is up. If you'll excuse us, we have some… activities apparently to get to."

William stood up, grabbing your hand and pulling you up with him. You were quiet, and he could feel your stare on the side of his head.

He couldn't tell if you were upset or grateful.

William cleared his throat and gave the doctor a cold smile. One that he purposely made so that the Doctor would know how displeased he was.

"Thank you for your time, Doctor Miller. We'll be sure to contact you soon."

The doctor nodded, a blank expression on his face. He didn’t say a word as William took you by the arm and guided you out the door.

No way in hell was he doing this again.

"William-" You started, and he cut you off.

"No more therapy, sweetheart," William said, his hand tightening around your arm.

"I-"

"No more," he said, his voice low and stern. Still, he kept that warm smile on his face. It made you fall back into silence.

"We're done. We'll figure this out on our own. No more doctors or counselors or whatever the hell he was.”

Truth be told, he was absolutely livid. All that money wasted for a bum therapist to imply that their marriage was falling apart because you weren't communicating?

What a scam. This is exactly why he preferred to do things on his own.

William led you back to the car, opening the door for you and helping you in. He walked around the car and slid into the driver's seat.

He took a moment to breathe, his head falling back against the seat and his eyes closing.

God, he hated being here.

Hated it so much.

He needed a cigarette and maybe a stiff drink.

"I'm sorry." You said, your voice quiet.

William lifted his head and turned to you. He blinked, confused, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"What for?"

"I… I thought maybe if we went to see a therapist, they could help. They could fix this. But… I think I messed it up. I'm sorry."

Your voice cracked, and he watched as tears started to form in your eyes.

His face softened, and he turned his body towards you, leaning his back against the door. Such a crybaby you were, emotionally connected and sensitive.

Just another reason why you worked so well with him. Blinded by emotion, you were easy to trick. Easy to manipulate.

You were naive, and it was adorable.

"No, no. Don't cry." William said, his hand lifting and cupping your cheek. He brushed away the tears with his thumb, and he forced a smile. "There's nothing to fix. We're fine, I promise. I’ll make sure of it. Okay?"

"Okay," you whimpered, nuzzling into his hand. It’s quite the contrast compared to the look of disgust on your face from earlier.

He didn't want to see that again.

William leaned forward and pressed his lips against your forehead. He could smell the shampoo and soap from your morning shower, and the smell calmed him down.

He could tell the action had calmed you down, too.

William pulled back, and his lips twitched upwards. "Don't worry about a thing. I'll fix this."

After all, he always got what he wanted. And what he wanted was his wife.

And no stupid, worthless therapist was going to guide him away from that.