#let's pretend this past week didn't exist

[yuukiiqwq]

Satoru Gojo, the strongest, who cared only about dominating the court suddenly cared only about you. Him and his team were practicing for a game next week in the school gym when he noticed you sitting among the crowd of spectators. Whenever him and his team practice, the students in school will always come watch in their free time. He recognized some familiar faces, but you, he doesn't recognize you. He had never seen you here before, and something about you dragged his attention towards you.

Satoru, who never misses a shot when he has his hand on the ball, suddenly misses? Dead silence. His team stared at him with confusion and disbelief that the Satoru Gojo missed a shot. His best friend and teammate, Suguru, came up to him with concern in his eyes and asked– "Are you alright, Satoru?"

Satoru runs his hand through his hair and huffed out a fine to his best friend. What the fuck just happened to him? Must have been a fluke he said to himself as his eyes wandered towards the crowd who was gossiping about his failed shot. His eyes then wandered towards you who was staring right at him. His eyes widen when you caught him staring at you before quickly turning away. His heart racing in his chest in an uncontrollable pace. He noticed Suguru and his teammates still staring at him with concern in their eyes.

"C'mon, let's continue practice," he sighs. "I just got distracted. It won't happen again."

The team was reluctant to continue practice because no matter how distracted Gojo was, he had never missed a shot. He could practically play a game with his eyes closed and not miss, but all of a sudden, he missed? As practice continued, Satoru made no other mistakes. He didn't miss again, but every time he scores, his eyes always end up wandering towards you.

Fuck. What the fuck is happening to him? Why can't he stop his eyes from going towards you whenever he scores? Why is he so focused on the way your eyes light up in awe as he makes every shot? The way you wet your soft looking lips with your tongue as you stood at the edge of your seat. You were a sinful sight to behold.

When practice ended, Satoru quickly left the court to go to the locker room. As he pushed past his teammates, he noticed their confused expression. Their confusion was understandable because, normally, Satoru would be the last one to their locker room. Satoru loves attention, so he would always give out fan services when practice or a game ends. However, this time, Satoru was quickly pushing open the gym door to escape, and his eyes wander towards you one last time before completely exiting the gym. He doesn't like what he's feeling right now. It was suffocating, but it's ok, right? Today was just a one-time thing. Oh, how wrong he was.

Since that day, he noticed that you always were there during their practice. He knows you're not from his school because of your uniform, so who exactly were you? Who allowed you in? And why is it that he couldn't get enough of you? Why did you suddenly show up in his life out of nowhere?

Satoru sat down on the bench as the other continued the practice game, wiping his sweat with his towel as he secretly watched you. You who had his under some kind of spell. You who he hasn't spoken one word to since the day he saw you. He wanted you to say his name. Hear the syllables of his name come out of your soft looking lips. Gojo wasn't dumb. He just likes pretending to be, so it doesn't help that he knew exactly what was going on with him. He knew what he was feeling, and it was downright stupid. Fuck love at first sight. It shouldn't exist. He shouldn't want to kiss you. He doesn't even know your name! He groans as he run his hand through his hair again. He curse at himself before he felt something cold touch his cheeks.

"What caught your eyes, Captain?"

Satoru took the water bottle from Shoko's hand and took a big sip. "What are you doing here, Shoko? Don't you have that medical test or whatever to study for?"

Shoko rolled her eyes at his comment– "That was yesterday Gojo. So are you just going to ignore my question? Clearly, something is up for you to miss your shot a few days ago."

"No idea what you're talking about," Satoru replied as he fixed his hair. "Didn't miss nothing."

"Right. It's not like the whole school was gossiping about you missing for the first time."

"These people and their big mouths..." He mumbles. Funny coming from him since he himself would have done the same if the situation was flipped.

Shoko looked toward the place Gojo was eyeing and then saw you. She blinked once and then looked back at Gojo before huffing out a small laugh. Someone is going to be in for a surprise.

"That's his sister, y'know?"

"Not funny, Shoko," Satoru said before looking at Shoko's expression. She was serious. You and your brother look nothing alike. He sighs before mumbling a curse under his breath.

"Oh fuck indeed," Shoko laughs again as she turned towards the gym door. "Going to need some sweets?"

"Yeah, I'll pay you back later."

"Free of charge today. My compensation for this free entertainment. It's going to be an interesting few days." Satoru was now left to his own thoughts. He couldn't help but sigh at his predicament.

Satoru never got the chance to speak to you. Whenever he tries to go towards you, he stops and turns away. He couldn't help but be nervous when it comes to you. It's not his fault that he thinks he'll faint from hearing your voice. He'll talk to you one day when the opportunity arises. It seems fate had granted him his wish. Satoru had met you outside one morning right before his team game. You had accidentally bumped into him while rushing.

"Ouch!" You rubbed your nose from the sudden collision before looking up at him with your innocent and beautiful eyes. Oh fuck. Your voice was music to his ears. He just gone to heaven and what made it even worse was how you looked. Why the fuck do you look so pretty this early in the morning? He himself could barely get out of bed for today's game. His hair is messy and all over the place. His shirt is not all the way buttoned, and his tie is hanging loosely over his neck. If he didn't have a game today, he would be at school getting scold. He just looked like a mess compared to you. Sure, he is a hot mess right now, but this was not the impression he wanted to give when he talked to you. He listened to your endless apologies before interrupting with a question.

"You coming to the game?"

"Huh?" You stopped your apologies at his sudden question before his question clicked. You didn't know he noticed you during his practices. Your eyes instantly light up and grab his hand. "Yes, I am! I'm very excited since it's my first time witnessing a game! I've been to your practice for a while because of my brother's invitation. Oh, my brother is–"

As you continued your rambling, Satoru's eyes were fixated on the fact that you were holding his hands. Your small and soft hand holding his. He stopped your rambling by taking your hand and intertwining his fingers with yours. An intimate act. You looked up at him in confusion, and before you could say anything, he was tugging you along.

"Making sure you don't get lost on the way. Let's walk together to the stadium." An excuse to keep your hand in his even though you were practically strangers. He made sure you couldn't let go.

When the two of you finally arrived at the stadium, he had to let you go. He didn't want to let go, but he had to go towards the locker room so he could change into his game uniform.

"Name is Satoru Gojo. Call me Satoru. Let's hang out after the game today." He then brought your hand towards his lips and kissed it. His eyes moved up towards your eyes, holding your gaze as he whispered– "Keep your eyes on me." He then quickly left towards the locker room, his ears burning from his sudden boldness. While he can dominate the court, you have dominated his heart.

When he entered the locker room, his team was already getting ready for the big games. He quickly went to his locker beside his best friend and started to undress his school uniform. Suguru was already ready for the game, so he was sitting on the bench in the locker room, drinking some water.

"I'm in love with your sister," Satoru blurted out, causing Suguru to immediately spit out the water he was drinking. Confusion and disbelief were written all over his face.

"What?"

Part 2

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[edwinspaynes]

I was angry. I'm still angry. But sadness and exhaustion have overtaken that anger, and I have A LOT to say about this.

Dead Boy Detectives is a very special show to me. It occupies a ridiculously large place in my heart, and it's brought me joy in a way that only a few pieces of media ever have. When I watched it for the first time, Edwin Payne had my heart within minutes. By the end of episode one, Charles Rowland did, too.

It meant a lot to me, seeing such wonderful and nuanced queer characters brought to life in the type of paranormal story I have always loved. In these past months, Edwin and Charles have felt like real friends to me, and to never see them again without a satisfying conclusion to their story is something I have not truly processed. Same for Niko and Crystal and The Cat King - they should be back. But I haven't fully processed it yet, that they're not coming back, and yet I am still aggreived.

@netflix is, at this point, so fucking gagged on capitalism's dick that they're not even pretending to care about art anymore. Dead Boy Detectives is genuinely masterfully made on just about every level. The actors did a phenomenal job and I will be following all their careers heavily. Steve, Beth, and the writing team crafted an incredible tale. The sets, the lighting, the props, the effects were all on point. This was a well-constructed program, and you could tell that everyone involved with the project gave it their all because they cared so deeply.

(Also my heart breaks for the whole cast, but it's hardcore hurting for George since this was not only his first screen role but one he clearly thought he would be keeping as of two weeks ago. He seemed so secure. I hate this for him.)

In addition to being a good show, DBDA had good reception. It's got a 92% on Rotten Tomatoes, was on the Top 10 for several weeks, got 4.7 million views within week one, and was getting daily articles posted on various review sites with NOTHING but praise. The fandom is incredibly active. We trend on Tumblr like five times a week and on Twitter regularly as well.

THE. SCRIPT. FOR. SEASON. 2. WAS. WRITTEN.

What the fuck happened?

Idiot executives at @netflix, choking on the dick of capitalism, probably just thought that they wouldn't get new subscribers for a second season of an existing show that didn't rake in Bridgerton-level cash. That's how they work - people who are interested in it are already subscribers, so who the fuck cares about them? Better to make some other shit, hope new people subscribe, and maybe that'll be a Bridgerton-level hit.

But also, Netflix has fun little trends to look into. And, when you look at the lineup of shows Netflix has canceled, they are overwhelmingly queer. The homophobia of @netflix and their operatives is clearly boundless, and it hits here really badly because this show was clearly made with a queer audience in mind. It was one of the most authentic pieces of queer media I have ever experienced, if not THE most authentic pieces of queer media that I have ever experienced.

It's fucking ridiculous that Netflix canceled a show that they commissioned a completed script of months ago. It sucks that they decided that their existing subscribers, their queer subscribers, did not matter.

Edwin and Charles are ours now. Well, of course, they're George's and Jayden's respectively, but the characters are no longer Netflix's to use and throw out. They're ours now, our fandom's, and we all love them so much.

And we deserved to see more of them, and we deserved to see their love story play out onscreen, but I for one am not going anywhere. Let's give Edwin and Charles - and the rest of the gang - millions of versions of the stories and endings that Netflix deprived them of.

[onlyangel4]

cindy lou who. cs55. op81. SMAU. final part

request: Can you do a lando x reader or Carlos x reader based on the song Cindy Lou who by Sabrina Carpenter

in which carlos moves on but you couldn't. when you do move on you realise he didn't move on as much as you thought he had

warnings: angst. cursing. five year age gap with carlos. for this i am just pretending the the hungarian gp did not have all of its issue and it was a normal win for oscar, pls let me be delusional.

part one

y/ninsta posted a story tagging alexandrasaintmleux and charlesleclerc

written: happy anniversary to my favourite couple in the entire world. thank you for looking after me when things went to shit a year ago. i will never forget the kindness you both showed me. i love you both.

y/ninsta

written: celebrating love with my favourite people tonite!

f1updates

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 150,321 others

f1updates: charles and alex are throwing party to celebrate their anniversary so of course the biggest advocate for their relationship y/n y/ln is in attendance. this is y/n's first time attending a driver based event since she broke up with carlos sainz just over a year ago. carlos and rebecca are also in attendance. awkward.

view all 10,902 comments

user1: go on y/n show him what he fumbled

user2: welcome back y/n the kids missed you

user3: she is so fucking hot

landonorris posted a story

written: third wheeling at an anniversary party. i am so fucking single.

f1wags

liked by user5, user6, user7 and 128,092 others

f1wags: carlos sainz and rebecca donaldson were pictured in a heating argument out in monaco. this comes a week after the entire grid met to celebrate charles and alex. sources said the couple looked solid then but now it is a very different story. rebecca and carlos have unfollowed each other on all social media and rebecca is no longer wearing her engagement ring.

view all 2,928 comments

user6: so there starts being runours about oscar and y/n and then this happens. umm.. suspicious

user5: y/n i stg if you go back to him i will track you down and kill you myself

user7: i hope to god that our y/n keeps her composure and leaves him in the past

f1wags

liked by user8, user9, user10 and 210,921 others

f1wags: our jaws are on the floor. y/n y/ln has arrived at the hungarian gp. she arrived alone but people did see her rush over to alexandra saint mleux. no one knows what garage y/n will be in. but here at f1wags we have our fingers crossed for mclaren.

view all 721 comments

user8: i swear to god if she is here with carlos. babe it has been over a year, forget about him

user9: y/noscar nation rise

user10: the fit oh my god wag y/n is so back

y/ninsta

liked by danielricciardo, fernandoalonso, alexandrasaintmleux and 912,321 others

tagged oscarpiastri

y/ninsta: guys my boyfriend just won his first gp and i am sobbing in mclaren hospitality. i love you with all my heart osc. you have made me so fucking proud my love.

view all 19,021 comments

oscarpiastri: i love you so much. you are the best lucky charm to ever exist

y/ninsta: stop, you'll make me cry again

danielricciardo: that's my boy

y/ninsta: no mine

fernandoalo_oficial: if this one hurts you like the other one did i will kill him

y/ninsta: i'll tell him that

alexandrasaintmleux: everyone say thank you alex and charles for introducing this couple

y/ninsta: thank you darling

oscarpiastri: thank you for introducing me to my girl

[fluffylino]

hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)

-contains mature themes

your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.

ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.

he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.

quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.

right next to your standing figure.

you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.

he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.

two days ago. the both of you had an argument.

it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.

of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.

you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.

it read :

"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.

- :] "

he seemed to take it seriously.

in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.

of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.

but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.

washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.

almost like a attention deprived puppy.

today though was different.

you looking forward to his next attempt.

the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.

except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.

you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.

he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.

his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-

was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?

you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.

you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.

making you want to pounce on him.

shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.

you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.

was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.

the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.

you wanted to take him right there and then.

in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.

and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.

like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.

"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.

"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.

"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.

"m'sorry"

you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.

god, he was so cute.

.

.

"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.

"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.

the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.

lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.

his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.

"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.

"y-yes...always at your service"

you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.

"anything for you m-master"

"anything? careful what you wish for baby"

"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"

.

..

.

i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?

[zegrasdrysdale]

[ like you hate me ] e. edwards

day 7 of kinktober (hate sex w/ ethan edwards)

paring : Ethan Edwards x fem!reader

summary : she can’t stand ethan, but she knows there is tension between them that she can’t ignore anymore when they collide at a party

warning(s) : smut ! rough / hate sex, p in v, protected sex, nicknames during sex, begging, mentions of alcohol, light alcohol consumption

author’s note : i couldn’t wait to get to this one bc i had so many ideas hehe

kinktober schedule

༺──────────────༻

She shouldn't be here, but she let her friends talk her into coming to the party. Hockey parties don't usually end well for her whenever she does decide to attend them.

Especially if she runs into him.

Ethan Edwards is the bane of her existence and the biggest pain in her ass. He has the biggest ego she's ever seen on a hockey player, and he's had it for all four years that she's known him. He likes to mess with her during classes they have together and distract her from keeping her solid 3.8 GPA. He likes to mess with her in passing and make jokes every time he sees her. He even makes her job as the hockey team’s social media admin very difficult and she’s growing tired of it.

Maybe she won’t even run into him. She can avoid him in his own house. It won’t be that hard with every girl throwing herself at him and distracting him from the fact that she’s there.

The hockey house is off campus in a suburban area of Ann Arbor about 15 minutes away from main campus. It’s already crawling with partygoers when she pulls up in an Uber about an hour after the party was scheduled to start. Music blasts from every open door and window and she questions how they haven’t gotten cited yet for loud noise.

Inside is so crowded she can barely walk. She squeezes past multiple athletes from different sports in the foyer as she makes her way to the kitchen to get something to drink. If she’s going to be in the same building as Ethan then she needs to have a little alcohol in her system. God knows what’s going to happen and what words are going to be exchanged if their paths cross.

In the kitchen stands three of Ethan’s closest friends. All with an arm around some girl. Luca is the first to notice her walk into the room. He immediately smiles at the sight.

"Holy shit," he laughs. "She makes an appearance. I can't believe it. I thought you would never show your face at a hockey house party."

She shrugs while she makes herself a drink with cheap vodka and a mixer. "I was coerced into coming," she tells him. She looks up at Luca, Mark, and TJ. She sips her drink. "Where's your friend? Hiding upstairs in his room hopefully?"

Mark laughs and shakes his head. "He's around," he replies. "Last I saw him, he was out back playing cup pong with Duker, Moldy and Schiffer."

"Now I can avoid the back," she says with a smile. "Thanks."

All three of them laugh as she turns and leaves the room. She makes her way into the living room. Her friends sit on the couch so she sits on the arm of the chair next to the person she'd consider her best friend. She leans back and sips from her cup.

People come in and out of the room constantly, but she loves being able to see everyone and socialize with whoever does come into the room. She talks to people she hasn't seen or spoken to in a little bit.

She's laughing at something her friend said when she watches the one person she didn't want to see walk into the room with Luca and Mark. They better not have snitched on her to him or she will make sure they hate the Monday Question next week.

Ethan's eyes land on her and she quickly averts her eyes. She looks at her friend and pretends to be invested in the conversation so maybe Ethan won't walk over and bother her.

Except, that plan fails. Before she knows it, Ethan is standing in front of her. He has the smuggest of smirks on his face when he approaches her.

“A little birdie told me that you were trying to avoid me, princess” he tells her. “Is that true?”

She could kill Luca, Mark, and TJ for snitching on her.

“So what if I was?” she questions as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And I’ve told you to stop calling me princess.”

“You’re in my house, princess,” Ethan retorts with a grin on his face and emphasizing the word ‘princess’ just to annoy her even more. “You don’t get to ignore me in my house, and I can do whatever I want because it is my house.”

“Says who?” she asks. “I can ignore whoever I want, their house or not. You're annoying and I like your roommates better anyway."

Ethan quiets down but he doesn't take his eyes off of her. She doesn't back down either. She holds her ground because she doesn't want him to think he's won. That's the last thing that she wants so she holds eye contact with him until he speaks again. Her heart pounds in her chest as she stands her ground.

A smile breaks out on his lips and she falters for a very quick second. "I knew you had a crush on one of my roommates," Ethan says. "Which one? Luca? Mark? I hate to break it to you, but Mark has a girlfriend. So does Hughesy. Oh my God. Do you have a thing for a guy who has a girlfriend? That's a little pathetic if you ask me."

She rolls her eyes, her blood beginning to boil after his comment. "You're such an asshole, Ethan," she tells him.

She then gets up out of her seat and walks upstairs to hide in one of the bathrooms for a few minutes while she cools down.

If someone were to ask her why she was so upset, she would say that she honestly has no idea. Something about Ethan Edwards just heats her blood. He riles her up, and it could be the smallest thing that does it too.

All he did was mess with her, and she's ready to punch him in the face. She's always ready to punch him in the face though, but it's often not because she's angry at him. Sometimes it's because he's genuinely one of the most attractive people she's ever seen. Just his face alone is enough to send her into a bad mood.

If Ethan wasn’t a massive pain in her ass, she probably would’ve hooked up with him by now. Maybe it’s what she’s wanted all along and the reason why she hates him so much. He’s infuriating, but he’s hot. It’s a dangerous combination, especially for her.

She splashes water on her face to cool down and does her best to fix up the makeup that came off with the water. It’s not a lot thanks to the inventor of waterproof makeup but it still runs just a little bit.

A knock rings through the bathroom and she calls, “One second!” There’s a second knock and she groans. “Do you not know what one second mea-” She freezes when she sees Ethan on the other side of the door as soon as she swings it open. “Oh, great. Just the person I want to see. Go away, Ethan.”

“I may have crossed a line,” he says as he rubs the back of his neck.

“You just keep adding on to the list of what you think I am, don’t you?” she retorts. “Annoying, nerdy, clingy, and now I’m pathetic despite not having a thing for a single one of your roommates, especially not the ones who are in relationships. Making that comment in front of everyone was embarrassing. Even for you.”

Ethan just nods and looks at her. “I know that,” he tells her. “It wasn’t until you walked away and Luca told me that what I said was wrong that I realized that I crossed the line.”

She runs her fingers through her wavy locks and lets out a soft sigh. “This wouldn’t be an issue if I just-” She cuts herself off from what she was about to say.

There’s tension. There’s been tension. She ignores it like it’s going to go away on it’s own but the innuendos and jokes have made it thicker than it’s ever been. It’s getting harder and harder to ignore it. Maybe if she just-

“Just what?” Ethan questions. She meets his eyes and finds confusion in them.

Do it. Get it over with.

Before she can talk herself out of it, she cups his jaw and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Ethan has to take a little step toward her due to how hard she pulls him down to her.

He immediate pulls away in surprise. She stares up at him, but she doesn’t move her hands. Her eyes flicker between his like she’s searching for rejection, but that’s the one thing she doesn’t find. She finds deliberation and confusion.

Just in case he needs a little shove, she says, “We have been doing this whole back and forth thing for nearly four years, Ethan. You have to be as tired of it as I am. I feel the tension that’s grown so I’m sure you can to. This is the one and only time I’m offering this to you so we can just fuck it out and maybe end whatever feud thing that we’ve had going on. Worst comes to worst then we have a nice hookup and we can move on with our lives. Best case scenario, we get it out of our systems and we can actually be friends because-”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up, princess?” Ethan asks to cut her off.

She isn’t able to make a comeback because Ethan’s lips are back on hers before she can respond. He’s kissing her with the same intensity that she originally kissed him with.

His hands fall to her waist and he pulls her body flush against his chest. She feels every muscle flex underneath his thin shirt as he makes little movements to adjust to her height. She’s half a head shorter than he is so he has to make some adjustments to kiss her without breaking his neck. Eventually, he gives up and leans down to lift her up. She wraps her legs around his waist and slides her fingers into his hair.

Ethan turns and walks out of the bathroom. Luckily the hallway is dark so if anyone were to see them, they would think it’s just two people making out at a party. The door is kicked shut and her back is pinned to it. A soft thud is heard when her back makes contact with the wood. She hums when her skin hits the cool surface.

She kicks off her heels and they land on the carpeted floor with soft thuds. Ethan stands holding her back against the door for a second before he turns and walks toward his bed.

In the handful of times she’s had to come into this room, it’s been organized and in order. She gets a glance when the kiss breaks after he drops her on the mattress and finds it’s still very organized and in order. She would’ve never guessed that Ethan is one to keep things clean in his room.

Ethan kicks off his shoes before he climbs over her and hovers above her body. She immediately pulls him back into a hot kiss. He hums and a hand lands on her thigh. The already short black dress rides up her thigh until it rests right under her ass. His fingers follow the fabric up her leg. He grips her thigh and she gasps.

Her fingers slide down his back until they reach the hem of his Michigan hockey t-shirt. She tugs at it to hint that she wants him to take it off. Ethan listens to her signal and sits back on his knees, breaking the kiss. She watches as he pulls the fabric over his head.

Now, she’s seen him shirtless on numerous occasions. There have been times where she’s seen him in nothing but his boxers, but she’s always looked away. Right now, she gets to look. She takes full advantage of the moment and studies every part of his torso and chest. Ethan’s never been the biggest guy in the room, but his body is so toned. She could combust just from the view she has right now.

She gets her hands on him as fast as she can. Her hands start on his torso, tracing his abs before they trail up and over his chest. Ethan’s hands rest on hers when they reach his shoulders. He pulls her up so she’s sitting up with him between her knees. Their chests are flush against each other and she’s looking up at him.

Ethan hooks his fingers under the thin straps of the little black dress. He tugs them off her shoulders and she pulls her arms out of the straps. She keeps her eyes on Ethan as he pulls the top of her dress over her boobs. He gnaws on his bottom lips when he sees her tits.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans. “You hid these from me this entire time?”

“You never asked to see them,” she tells him. Ethan moves his hands to cup her bare tits. “Probably would’ve showed you if you asked, E.”

He grins and pushes her until she’s lying on her back. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. She hums at the feeling. Ethan’s other hand gropes her other boob. He bites down on her bottom lip. She runs her fingers through his hair.

After what feels like seconds later, Ethan begins to kiss down her chest and stomach. He pulls the dress down as he lowers himself down her body. She lifts her butt up so he can get the dress off. It hits the floor and she presses her lips into a line as Ethan drinks her in.

Her hands slide between them and she works on getting Ethan’s pants off. She pushes his pants off his body and he kicks them to the floor. She gets a hand on the bulge in his boxers, palming him over the thin fabric. He snakes a hand into her lace panties. She hums at the feeling of his fingers cupping her sex.

She grinds her core against his fingers trying to get some pressure. She presses her lips into a line as she pleasures herself on his hand. Ethan slips a finger into her and she gasps at the new feeling. "Oh my God," she breathes out. "Warn a girl next time."

Ethan smiles and attaches his lips to her jaw. "We'll see," he mumbles against her skin.

Slowly, he works her toward an orgasm. A knot forms in the pit of her stomach like it always does when she's close to an orgasm. Soft groans pass her lips when Ethan adds a second finger. "I- fuck," she pants. "Ethan, Eddy. Please."

"Please what, princess?" Ethan asks.

"Fuck me like you hate me," she tells him. "Please. Please fuck me, E."

He pulls back and looks at her. His fingers stop moving in and out of her. A grin forms on his swollen lips. "Are you begging me to fuck you?" he questions. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would beg me for something."

"Ethan Edwards, I'm about to get up and go get Luca-"

"Oh I don't think so," Ethan interrupts as he goes into his bedside table to get something. He pulls out a little foil package and comes back over to hover over her. "You're going to take off the rest of your clothes and I will give you the best dick you've ever had in that pretty little pussy."

His words go straight to her core and she listens to him almost as soon as he's done talking. She slides off her ruined panties and Ethan takes off his boxers to slide on the condom that he pulled out of the drawer.

She lies down on her back and lets Ethan settle above her. He lines up at her entrance and she stares up at him. Ethan meets her eyes before he pushes into her. She gasps from the stretch and grabs his triceps. It's painful at first but quickly turns into pleasure the longer he's inside her. He slowly pushes into her until he's completely buried inside her.

Once the pain completely fades, she nods at him. "Go," she tells him.

As soon as he has her permission, Ethan rolls his hips. Her jaw drops as he slowly picks up speed. The pleasure is so much that she nearly blacks out. Her nails dig into his triceps so hard that she's pretty sure he's going to end up with marks on his arms.

This is the last thing that she ever expected to happen. She never thought she would be underneath Ethan and getting fucked by him. She doesn't know if she'll ever tell him this because his ego will grow bigger than it already is, but it might be the best sex she's ever had. It's a quick hookup but it's already better than the rest of the hookups she's ever had, not that there are that many to compare it to.

She wouldn't be against it if this were to ever happen again.

Ethan continues to move deeply into her, but his movements pick up speed. The bed creaks and the room his filled with the soft moans that pass her lips. Ethan pants as he continues to move.

She starts to move her hips to match his pace. "Holy shit," she cries out when the tip of his dick hits her favorite spot. "Ethan."

"Like that, baby?" Ethan pants. "Like feeling my dick inside you? Making you feel good?"

He slams into her once and she arches her back off the bed. "Yes!" she gasps. "Yes, Ethan. God. Fuck."

With her response, Ethan slows down but hits her spot over and over again. Her legs begin to shake as she reaches the edge. The knot in her stomach threatens to come undone.

Ethan leans down and crashes their lips together in a bruising kiss. She groans as she feels her entire body clench. She squeezes around his dick as she comes and cries out against his lips. Her hands find his hair and she grasps, needing something to hold onto.

She feels like she's on cloud nine as Ethan fucks her through both of their orgasms. Her body goes limp under his when he pulls out to dispose of the used orgasm.

He cleans both of them up with his shirt before he collapses on the bed next to her. Her breathing is labored but is slowly returning to normal.

When she finds the strength to move, she turns her head to look at him. Ethan's already looking at her when she looks at him.

"I never hated you," Ethan admits to her. She raises her eyebrows at him. "I mean it. I never hated you. I thought it was cute how flustered you got every time I messed with you so I kept doing it not knowing that it meant that you didn't like me. That was me trying to express my feelings but it was definitely the wrong way to do that."

She blinks at him. "You've said some hurtful thing to me, Ethan," she tells him. "I'm going to need some time to get over that but ... I think I'd be okay if we tried to be friends. I wouldn't be opposed to this either."

"I knew you always wanted me," he teases.

"Shut up," she replies as she leans in to kiss him.

༺──────────────༻

MAIN HOCKEY

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[jeysbvck]

even if it's a false god (we'd still worship this love)

a/n; ive been working on this for over a year, & after four rewrites, its finally here! thank you to @pedroassmanpascal for your help when i was conceiving this & working on it last year! this is my first time working in this genre, & it hasn't been beta read all the way thru, so please let me know what you think!

warnings; pov change, a butt load of angst, age gap (reader is in her thirties), violence, death/murder, near death experience, voyeurism, female masturbation, male masturbation, male!recieving, female!recieving, penetrative sex (if ive missed any feel free to let me know!!)

taglist; @likedovesinthewnd @harmshake @nightmare-viper

word count; 7.3k

summary; Joel's been pretending you don't exist for weeks now, and you have no idea why. But when you get caught up in a life or death situation, confessions are made, lines are crossed, and your relationship is changed.

Every single part of Joel's body hurt, and he was exhausted. Joel was always exhausted, but this day had been particularly hard. Everything that he - and you had gone through had been for nothing. The supplies and weapons you had been looking for had been looted already. Only a few old, rusty tins of food covered in at least a years worth of dust had been left behind. Not to mention the constant hoards of infected you had to fight through. Now, it was a fight to get back to the QZ to make another plan that could end the exact same way. Yeah, he'd had plenty of bad days, but this one would sting for a while. The hope that had been reignited had gone out again. Now he was just tired.

No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't sleep. He was just lying on the hard floor -the fabric floor of the tent and his blanket doing nothing to help with the lumps under his back- with his eyes closed and ears alert. He knew how dangerous it could be, the horrors lurking in the woods, even when it was calm and quiet, and he hoped you had heeded his advice and were asleep with your gun.

But then he heard a whimper, and his eyes shot open as he stayed silent, his hand on his pistol. A barely heard whine, and he sighed with relief as he realised it was you. These past few weeks had been taxing - although the past twenty years hadn't exactly been a cake walk - and it dawned on him that you were probably crying. Joel had been so drained and tired during dinner that he selfishly hadn't noticed you were unusually quiet. He also didn't think about it when you retired to bed early. Joel tried to ignore the sounds, but he couldn't, he was just picturing you curled up in your tent, crying yourself to sleep, and the guilt of not noticing anything was wrong was gnawing at him. He groaned and slipped out of his tent, making his way to yours while putting the gun in the back of his jeans.

He quietly navigated the campsite and stopped outside your tent, unsure how to proceed. Did he knock on the fabric door, or did he call out your name? He wasn't good at this stuff, and he hadn't been for a long time, but he also knew that you needed someone; or, more specifically, you needed a friend. You were just that kind of person, even if the world had forced you to pretend you weren't. For a few seconds, he couldn't hear anything, but just as he was about to give up, he heard another noise, but this one sounded more like a moan. Then another one, louder now, and there was no mistaking it that time. Joel's body stiffened, and he started to get hot as his cock twitched at the thought of you getting yourself off, mere feet away from him. He heard your sleeping bag rustle slightly, and he bolted back to his tent, breathing heavily as he zipped the tent door.

He stared up at the roof of the tent, trying - but ultimately failing - not to think about what he'd just almost interrupted. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, and he had to unbutton them just for some relief. He tried to divert his thoughts, to think about anything else, but his mind took some winding paths just to get him back to thinking of you. Joel groaned. He needed a release, and it had been a long time since he'd done, well, anything. It wasn't going to hurt anyone, and you were doing it just mere feet away from him, so what was stopping him? They were all flimsy arguments. He knew that, but it was the easiest solution to the problem at hand.

Joel slipped a hand into his boxers, his cold touch sending goosebumps down his spine, the sensation making him harder. He began to stroke himself, and when he closed his eyes, he could see you writhing around in your tent, your fingers deep inside yourself. He could hear you from your tent still, your quiet whimpering and moaning sounding out through the stillness of the forest, and Joel caught his own moan in his throat as his movements got quicker. He couldn't bring himself to care about the possible dangers lurking, the grip he had his cock on tightening slightly as pictures of you clouded him. He imagined you being in here with him, imagined that you were both watching each other. It didn't take long for Joel to make himself orgasm, and he cleaned himself up, hoping sleep came to him before the guilt did.

-

Joel spent the next few days convinced he was going crazy. Every time you looked at him, he was sure you could see the guilt he was struggling to hide, like his memories would be projected for you to see. Every time you said his name, he was waiting for you to tell him you knew what he'd done, that you'd seen him outside your tent, and heard him in his. He felt so dirty, creepy, ashamed, and at some point, he shut down completely. He knew you were confused, you weren't as good at hiding your emotions as you thought, and you were confused by what you could've possibly done to warrant the cold shoulder from Joel, who could barely look at you, and it made him feel worse. He just didn't know what else to do, so he went back to what he knew best.

After traipsing through the woods for what felt like forever, Joel just wanted to set up camp and get through the night. He was tired, sore, hungry, and needed a moment away from you, without your sad eyes staring at him, without your attempts to get him to open up. So when you announced that you'd had enough and insisting that you stop for the night, Joel didn't argue. While Joel set up the tents, you gathered some wood from the perimeter of the "campsite", and Joel took a moment to watch on fondly, smiling to himself at the smug look of accomplishment on your face, taking the "win" against Joel.

Dinner was silent that night, as the past few had been, and while Joel refused to look up from his food, you were refusing to take your eyes off Joel. Your gaze was burning a hole in his head. He felt scrutinised as he ate, and it took everything in him not to engage. He didn't know if you were trying to annoy him into talking to you or if you were lost in your own thoughts, but he didn't ask.

Once again, straight after dinner, you headed into your tent, sending a soft "goodnight" Joel's way. He looked up but not before the sound of the zip echoed out, and he sighed, rubbing his temples.

The fire had died long ago, but Joel still hadn't found the energy to crawl into his tent. He stared up at the starry night, and just as his mind started to wander into dangerous territory -somewhere he never went if he could help it- he heard the noise that had been playing on a loop in his head for the past two days. His cock stirred and he covered his face with his hands. Not again.

He knew he had to get back to his tent and fast, but he had to do it quietly. He began to slowly move the canisters and empty tins, careful not to make any noise. He didn't want you to think he was a pervert. Although that's exactly how he felt right about now. He was about to stand up when he heard a single word from your mouth that made him stop in his tracks.

Joel.

Fuck. Oh fuck. Did you know he was there? Did you hear him? Could you see his silhouette projected on your tent, like it was a cinema screen? He ran through a hundred excuses in his head as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, and he let out a sigh of relief when he saw no signs that you'd heard him. He scoffed at himself and shook his head. He really was going crazy.

Mmm, Joel, don't stop!

He definitely wasn't going crazy, there was no mistaking it. Not only were you masturbating, mere feet from Joel, but you were moaning his name, and he had never been so hard in his life. He couldn't stop himself, and once again, he unzipped his jeans and pulled out his cock, and while you moaned and gasped from inside the tent, Joel pleasured himself.

His precum was seeping out and over his fingers, and he bit down harshly on his lip to stop his own sounds from escaping. His motion got quicker, matching the sweet sounds coming from your tent, and when you brought yourself to orgasm and Joel's name slipped from your lips, he came undone. He emptied himself onto the dirt, too entranced by your gasps to notice the streams spilling over his fists. He dropped his head against the log behind him and groaned.

"Shit."

-

It happened three more times, and Joel had never been more conflicted. He was constantly stressed and on edge; the guilt from what he was doing was eating away at him. He'd always been someone that could control himself - he had to be - but when it came to this, to you, it was like something triggered inside him. He'd known you for years and had never had these thoughts or these feelings. Then again, he'd never spent this much time with you, and he'd never heard his name fall from your lips like that.

Joel couldn't deny he thought you were beautiful, and that maybe it inflated his ego a little, that you were thinking about him while you fucked yourself with your fingers, or dreaming about him, but he was under no illusions that it meant anything. You didn't have feelings for him. He was just the only person you'd seen in weeks that wasn't trying to kill you, and feelings get warped. Especially with the way the world was now. Besides, he'd seen the guys that hung around you like moths drawn to a flame. They were much younger and fitter than Joel was. Yet, he found himself as one of those moths, and he couldn't help but imagine how it would feel to be caught in your flame.

Joel was no longer waiting to hear you to get himself off. His mind would conjure up images that made it so he couldn't help himself. Images of your mouth around his cock, your hair tangled in his fingers as he fucked your face. His head buried deep in between your legs as he ravished you, his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of ecstasy. Of his cock slamming into you, his fingernails leaving little indents in your ass as he gripped firmly. The fact that he would never get the real thing didn't bother him. He was content with his fantasies. But he still felt guilty, and the tension between you and Joel was getting worse.

But things were beginning to simmer inside Joel, and his secret masturbating habits were no longer the sole reason for his behaviour. Joel would look over at you, by the fire feading the book you'd memorised front to back, and he'd let himself imagine running his hands through your hair as you sat lazily against him. When he slept, his dreams were of a life he'd never thought he'd want - or have again, and you were always by his side. He'd dream of dancing with you in the living room, waking up beside you, the sunlight making you glow like an ethereal figure. He'd dream of being happy. He'd put it down to the ridiculous situation he found himself in and told himself that once you were both back in the QZ, things would go back to normal. You would go back to people your own age, and Joel would just be a memory of a small fantasy you had while on a difficult run.

But then, as if the universe was trying to intervere, everything changed. The abandoned building you'd been hiding out in turned out not to be not so abandoned, and the two of you had gotten yourselves into a sticky situation. Hunters had cornered you, and in all the chaos and commotion, the last man standing had grabbed you, now using you as a human shield with his arm almost choking you, a knife pressed just above your collarbone while Joel had his gun aimed right at him.

"I'll take yer girls head off!" The guy yelled. Joel could see you were terrified, and it took everything in him not to let his rage consume him. He knew that one wrong move could get you killed. He needed to be smart about this.

"Look, man, we don't have much, but you can take it all. Just let her go." Joel said, trying to keep his voice even. He was terrified that he wasn't going to be able to save you, and he couldn’t live with that. It wasn't just about someone else that he cared about dying or about him failing. You understood him, and somewhere along the way, you had unknowingly brought him out of the darkness. You were his beacon of light, and if he lost that, if he lost you, he wasn't sure he'd ever find his way out of the darkness again.

"Yeah? What if I want 'er?" The hunter sneered, caressing your cheek with his knife, pressing the tip into your skin ever so slightly.

"Not an option." Joel growled.

"Seems like it is to me. I could drag 'er outta here right now. There ain't nothing you could do about it."

-

You felt sick. You couldn't believe you'd let yourself be distracted by Joel being tackled to the ground, and now this disgusting pig had you in a fucking headlock. You'd seen Joel take down hunters and the infected, sometimes effortlessly, so why the hell did you freeze when Joel had been pinned to the floor momentarily? Your feelings for Joel were getting more and more confusing, and you didn't like it one bit, they were going to get you or Joel killed if you carried on like this. 

It's not like you wanted to be attracted to Joel, not when there wasn't a single thing you could do about it. Why would Joel ever go for you? He was twenty years your senior, old enough to be your father. There was just no chance in hell. Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from fantasising about him. It wasn't hurting anyone, and it was keeping you somewhat sane, and he'd never know.

"You won't make it out of this room." You heard Joel say in his deep, gruff voice, and it sent shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeezed shut when you felt the man breathing on your neck, the hot air making your stomach twist, bile rising up your throat as he inhaled your scent, his own vile one violating your senses. You clenched your fist and felt the cold blade of your dagger against your arm, the one you'd forgot you had up your sleeve, literally. How big of an idiot was this guy? How didn't he see you had a knife? As Joel and the hunter traded words, you quickly formulated a plan. If you could somehow manage to stab - or at least slash the guy - maybe he'd let go of you, and then Joel could get a shot in.

"Let go of me!" You shouted, struggling slightly, while slipping the knife further down your sleeve. It worked, and you smirked proudly. You raised your eyebrows at Joel before glancing down at your hand, subtly flashing the knife. You looked back at him, then darted your eyes to your captor. Joel took a second, and you knew he was weighing up his options before he nodded slightly. His eyes darted down to the guys leg, and you winked to let him know you understood the plan. The man still had a fucking knife to your throat, and you didn't want to give him any warnings or ideas.

"Don't worry." The hunter said, 'I'll look after 'er good."

Joel nodded to you, and you clenched the knife, stabbing right into the hunter's thigh. His yells of pain echoed around the room, and he released you from his grip, the knife in his hand clattering to the floor. You stumbled forward, kicking the weapon across the room, but you thankfully managed to stay on your feet. You grinned at Joel, feeling victorious, but it was a fleeting feeling.

"Fuckin' bitch!" The hunter shouted and you turned around, but not quick enough. The knife was sticking out of his thigh, but it didn't seem like he felt it, he was too overcome with rage, and the back of your head slammed against the wall as the hunter pinned you by the throat. You gasped for air, the guys hands squeezing the life out of you, spit flying as he screamed in your face.

"I'll fuckin' kill you, you goddamned bitch!"

You tried to pry the man's hands from around your neck, but it was no use. He was too strong, and your vision was fading rapidly. You were barely able to gasp Joel's name, and you were quickly losing consciousness. All you could do was stand there and let the darkness consume you as you thought about Joel. The way he'd try to hide his smile when you did something wrong, or when you said something silly. The way he laughed, how it was the rich sound you rarely got to hear. How he protected you, even though he clearly didn't want to be around you. How you were going to die, not knowing what you did to make him ignore you the past couple of weeks. Not knowing why he had this sudden disdain for you.

But then, the pressure around your neck suddenly disappeared, and you fell to the floor, gasping for air as you clutched your throat, your eyes wide and darting around wildly, searching for Joel.

He appeared on his knees in front of you and grabbed your face, his panicked, brown eyes staring deep down into your soul.. "Hey! Hey! Are you alright? Come on baby, just breathe for me."

His large hands were warm on your cheeks, the hunter's blood that stained them smearing across your skin as he caressed your cheek, but still, you leaned into his touch. He had never been this gentle before; in fact, he'd never really touched you unless being dragged by your wrist as you ran from infected counts. "I'm okay," you managed to say, and Joel sighed with relief.

"We need to move. Can you stand?" Joel asked, and you nodded, eyes closed as you took a few extra slow, deep breaths. "Okay. Take my hand."

You opened your eyes to Joel's outstretched hand and you took it, letting him haul you gently to your feet. He hooked his arm under yours to help you walk, and as you concentrated on walking with shaky legs, Joel guided you to the door. "Wait here." He said, disappearing out the front door to check for any danger.

As he did so, you turned to inspect the chaos you were leaving behind. Your stomach lurched as you saw the blood pooling around the dead man with a clean, almost surgical, maroon slice straight across his neck, and you wondered just how many times Joel had had to do it, to get such a clean cut. Your eyes snapped back to the door, where Joel was staring at you, his eyes wide and sad, like a puppy, before they hardened. "Let's go." Joel said. "We'll find a house to hide out in."

*

The universe had decided you could both use a break, and less than two hours after the attack, deep inside the seemingly never-ending woods, the two of you came across an unlocked cabin, the keys just sat on the side table. Joel put his finger up to his lips, and you nodded, following his lead as he crept through the front door. He pointed at you, then at the spot you were standing, and you nodded, doing as you were told while Joel checked it out. Neither of you wanted to take any more chances after today.

"Hey, you might wanna come check this out!" Joel's voice echoed through the cabin, and you closed the front door before heading towards the sound of his voice.

The cabin was rustic and run down, and looked to have been abandoned for a decade at least. It had been a hunter's cabin, judging by the animal heads mounted up on the walls, staring down at you with their black, beady eyes that seemed to follow you everywhere. The fireplace was brick, an axe resting against it with piles of wood stacked in front. You turned around and found Joel in the kitchen, staring down at the sink. As you got closer, you heard the familiar sound of a running tap, and you smiled. You'd take any kind of water right now, anything to get rid of this day.

But then you saw it, dancing through the air, rising from the tap. You were convinced you'd imagined it until you saw Joel's fingers rolling together under the water, a look of shock on his face.

"Is that what I think it is?" You asked as you got closer, and Joel nodded. You gingerly held your fingers out, anticipating cold water, not wanting to get your hopes up. But when your fingers hit the warm water, you let out a bewildered laugh, cupping both hands under the water, letting it spill over as it slowly but surely got hotter. "I can't believe it!"

"Yeah, well, we deserved a win eventually." Joel replied. You made eye contact, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards slightly, his eyes darting down to your neck before he took a sharp breath and turned away. "You should go have a shower."

"What about you?" You asked, and he sighed.

"Just go. I'll wash up here."

-

After stripping off your clothes, you looked at your reflection. Only then did you notice the bruising around your neck, and the blood smeared across your cheeks. You could still feel the way the hunter's hands squeezed so tight that you could feel the life draining from your body. You could still feel the panic and terror you felt and the relief when Joel forced the hunter to let go. The look in Joel's eyes when he held your face, the gentle touch as he caressed your cheeks and brushed your hair out of your face. You thought you'd made your peace with dying long ago, but that was until you almost met death, and it made you realise you didn't want to leave Joel. If Joel was in your life, maybe living was worth it.

You were so lost in thought, staring at your scarred body in the mirror, you didn't hear Joel knock on the door. It was only when the door burst open with Joel shouting your name that you turned around, surprised.

Joel kept his eyes on yours, refusing to let himself cave and look down; although it's all he wanted to do. You knew you should grab the towel, or the shower curtain, anything to cover yourself, but you were frozen, like Joel's gaze was keeping you locked on the spot.

Joel cleared his throat and shoved a bundle of clothes into your arms. “Sorry, I-uh, I thought maybe you were- it doesn't matter. I found those, thought you'd want some clean clothes.”

He left, slamming the door behind him, and you exhaled. You ignored the thoughts creeping in and the heat rising up your body and climbed into the bathtub under the running shower; watching the dirt and blood trickle off your body and down the plughole. Once the water ran clean, you stepped out, patting yourself down with the small towel. You then filled up the bathtub with hot water and then threw your underwear and clothes into it. It wouldn't fully clean them, but it'd be enough for now. You picked up the oversized flannel and pulled it over your shoulders, forgoing the jeans that were way too big for you, even with the help of a belt. You sighed and headed back out to Joel.

The fire was burning, the crackling wood echoing through the cabin. Joel was sitting at the wooden table in front of the window, sipping on a glass of wine. There were two plates of pasta on the table, a glass of wine next to one of them. You padded across the room and dropped into the seat opposite Joel, studying his face as he stared out the window. The sky was pink and orange as it set through the trees, the view almost as beautiful as the one sitting next to you; the light of the sunset cascading over Joel. He turned his head to you, and you glanced down at the food. Joel cleared his throat.

"I found some pasta and wine in the cupboards. It only went out of date a few weeks ago." He explained. "It should be okay for us to eat."

"I'm sure it's fine." You replied, "anything's better than beans again, right?" You leaned forward and took the glass of wine, taking a long sip, basking in the way it burned your throat slightly. It had been so long since you'd had even a sip of alcohol, you could swear your head was already fuzzy.

Like most dinners lately, this one was silent. But this was slightly different, considering you were probably the safest you'd been in a long time, and you were eating actual food off actual plates. If you and Joel were in a better place, it would be almost considered domestic. You might even consider staying here, leaving the QZ far behind. But you weren't, Joel could barely bring himself to talk to you — he couldn't even look at you. You really thought you were turning a corner with him until his behaviour changed one morning without warning.

"We should stay here for a couple of days, then head back to the QZ." Joel said. You sighed and finished your glass of wine, but it wasn't enough.

"Great." You replied, looking around for the bottle of wine. "Then you can go back to pretending I don't exist." You weren't sure where the outburst had come from, but you were pretty sure it had something to do with the alcohol running through your blood.

"Pretending you don't- what? I don't do that!" Joel insisted.

You scoffed. "Oh please, you're not as mysterious as you like to think." You said, although there was little truth to it. "You didn't even know my name in the QZ, yet we were around each other for months! I thought we were getting somewhere, but lately, you've been acting like we're strangers!" You told him.

"What?! Okay, maybe I was a little isolated in the QZ, but it's not like that now!" Joel replied, his fork clattering on the plate when it dropped from his hand. "All I do is worry about your survival!"

"Riiiiight, because you care so much." You said, rolling your eyes.

"It's my job to pro-"

"Your job?" You repeated, offended by his words, although you couldn't place why. "Well, allow me to relieve you of your duty." The chair screeched across the floor as you stood up and grabbed your unfinished plate and glass.

Joel inhaled through his nose and groaned. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Well, I mean it. Leave. I didn't need a babysitter before, and I don't need one now!" You said loudly, heading to the kitchen for a reprieve.

Joel growled and slammed his palms on the table as he stood up, refusing your reprieve, following you to the kitchen. "I'm not leaving you to die out here. Which, you would've already if it wasn't for me. You've proven that multiple times!"

"Maybe," you replied, dropping the plate in the sink, staring at Joel, whose eyes darted away. "But I'd rather die alone than with someone who can't even stand to look at me!"

"I can't look at you because you drive me fucking crazy!" Joel exclaimed, his patience finally having worn thin. "Ever since I heard you moaning in that fucking-" He stopped, his eyes wide and on you as he realised what he said; watching his words dawn on you as your face cracked.

Nausea, or quite possibly embarrassment — rose from your stomach up through your oesophagus, and you drank from the glass of wine that was in front of you — which wasn't quite the best course of action as it didn't sit well on your spinning stomach. Joel had heard you masturbating. That's what he was saying, right? There wasn't anything else he could possibly be referencing. But why would it drive him crazy? Joel could be uptight sometimes, but it didn't seem to be in a "women shouldn't pleasure themselves" way.

You blinked a few times, and Joel's face came into focus. He had closed the gap between you both, now only a few feet away. He looked awkward as he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable.

"You heard me mast -" You stopped, unable to say the word out loud, and you sighed, feeling ridiculous. "You haven't been talking to me for weeks because you heard me -"

Something clicked in your head, like a light had just been switched on. You hadn't just gotten yourself off once. And at some point, you began to fantasise it was Joel's fingers, or mouth, even his cock instead of your own hand. You were aware a couple of times his name had slipped from your lips, and you'd clasped your hand around your mouth afterwards, praying he hadn't heard you.

It was beginning to seem very likely he had heard you, and something in you shifted from embarrassment to…something else, and you arched your eyebrow, finishing off the glass of wine for some extra courage.

"You heard me say your name.” You said, arching your eyebrow. Joel stared before he nodded slowly.

“I heard.” He confirmed, refusing to break eye contact. The air in the kitchen had shifted; it was thick with tension, and Joel wondered where this was going.

You hummed and tilted your head. “What did you do?” You asked, smirking when it was clear it caught Joel off guard.

"What?”

“What did you do, Joel?” You asked, leaning back against the counter. Joel's eyes darted to your bare legs before slowly dragging them up your body, stopping at the three open buttons that exposed your cleavage.

“I thought I heard you crying, so I came to check on you.” He explained. “When I got to your tent, I realised you weren't, and I went back to my tent.” His eyes darted to your face before he closed the gap between you until he was practically on top of you. “I tried to ignore you, but I couldn't help myself.” He lifted your chin with his index and middle fingers, so you were staring at him through your lashes. Your lips parted slightly as your chest rose and fell, your heart pounding against your rib cage. “I kept hearing your moans and thinking about you in that tent, and it got me so - I had to -”

His eyes were dark, full of lust, and you instinctively licked your lips slightly. "You- couldn't help yourself, huh?" You asked. Joel arched his eyebrow and tentatively reached his hand up to your cheek. He traced his finger over your cheek gently, and you closed your eyes as you inhaled. "Hearing you moan my name," He said, running a path down your jaw to your neck, "it sounded too good."

You reached up, closing the gap between your lips. Without hesitation, Joel reciprocated the kiss, his hand still around your neck as the other slipped around your hips, resting on the bottom of your back, pulling you closer to him. His bulge pressed into your crotch and you could feel it getting harder as the kiss deepened. You tugged his brown, leather jacket from his shoulders while Joel started an assault on your neck. If this lasted forever, it still wouldn't be long enough.

"Is this a good idea?" You asked through the gasps as he nipped and sucked at your neck.

"Mhmm, giving me some mixed signals here." he mumbled against your skin before pulling away, his mouth inches from yours. "I think it's a fucking great idea. Don't you?"

“I'm not sure.” You confessed. Joel cupped your cheek with his hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb, his eyes soft, even if still full of lust. Was this a good idea? He'd spent weeks ignoring you, and it felt like Hell — but the way he kissed you, the way he touched you; it felt like Heaven.

"I don't care if it's a good idea or not." You replied, and Joel grinned.

"Good," he replied, "Because you have no idea how much I need you right now."

"Then show me." You said, and Joel growled before he pressed his lips against yours and instigated another passionate kiss, illicting a moan from you. He picked you up and dropped you onto the counter, spreading your legs so he could step in between them.

The kiss was messy, teeth and tongues clashing together as both sets of hands roamed each other's bodies. Joel's hands cupped and massaged your breasts as yours unbuttoned his jeans, using your heels to push them down his legs. One hand trailed a path from your breast to your stomach, dancing around the place you needed him the most.

"No panties, huh?" He said into your mouth, his finger tracing a path up your slit so gently, it was like he was using a feather. "I never would've known you were such a slut." His finger grazed your clit, and he grinned as you bucked your hips.

"Maybe if you'd acknowledged my existence, you might have found out earlier." You replied, grabbing his bulge through the fabric and squeezed, tight. Joel gasped into your mouth as he thrusted into your hand, and it was your turn to smirk against his mouth. If he could tease you, you could do the same, you thought as you slipped your hand into his boxers, relishing the feeling of his cock in your grasp.

Joel growled, his hips bucking before he shoved two fingers inside you without warning. A yelp mixed with a moan slipped from your mouth as you threw your head back, and Joel groaned. He kept his pace up, pushing his fingers in and out of you, feeling your walls clench around them as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your moans echoing throughout the kitchen. Not even his fantasies could have prepared him for how incredible this felt. If using just his fingers made him — made you feel this good, he couldn't wait to use his cock.

But he would wait. For weeks, you had — albeit unknowingly, driven him to the brink of insanity. Clouded his mind so he couldn't focus on anything; which is why he didn't notice the threat today, which almost cost you your life. So now, he had to drive you insane in the only way he could.

He dropped to his knees and pulled you by your legs so you were hanging off the counter. He then hoisted your legs over his shoulders, and you watched Joel as he studied your cunt — the look in his eyes resembled one of a wild animal, one that was finally allowed out of its cage, to roam free as its right. Yet, he was biting his lip; almost like he was holding onto that last tiny bit of control he had left. But you wanted — no, you needed the wild animal, and so you tangled your fingers into his hair. He looked up at you, locking eyes as he let you guide his head to where you needed him to be.

Shivers ran down your spine as his beard tickled you as he dragged his tongue over the skin on the inside of your thighs. Once again, he touched every piece of you, but not where you needed.

“Joel,” you whined, the grip on his hair getting tighter as you bucked your hips, "Please." You begged.

“Oh baby, you're already so wet.” he tutted, his finger running through your folds and teasing your entrance before he lifted it to your mouth and pushed it between your lips. “Your pretty pussy is glistening for me.”

You tasted a hint of your juices as you wrapped your tongue around his finger, keeping your gaze on him as you did. He groaned, imagining how good your mouth would feel wrapped around his cock. He pulled his finger out, and you gasped when he pushed it inside you. When he flicked your clit with the tip of his tongue, you gasped and arched your back. “Oh shit, fuck, Joel.”

Every sense was heightened as Joel flattened his tongue and lapped at you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he swirled his tongue around your clit. You pushed yourself against him, practically hanging off the counter, making Joel grab your ass with both hands as he buried his face into you. With his beard grazing against you and his tongue pushing you further to release, your thighs gripped his head. Every single part of you was on fire as his assault on your cunt continued, and you could feel your orgasm brewing.

So could Joel, which was apparent as his pace got quicker, bringing in his fingers to help finish the job. With his thumb circling your clit and his tongue deep inside you, you reached your climax, Joel's name spilling from your mouth. As you threw your head back, grinding yourself against his face; you saw stars, all while Joel kept up the relenting pace.

He finally pulled away and stood up, grinning as he leaned towards you. His beard was glistening, and when he kissed you, you could taste yourself on him, mixing with the wine you had with dinner. Joel hooked his arms under your legs and scooped you off the counter; carrying you fireman style out the kitchen, through the sitting room and into the bedroom, where he dropped you on the bed. He crawled on top of you and dipped his head to kiss you. It was a soft, sweet kiss, one that you didn't want to end, so when it did, you whimpered, and Joel smiled softly.

“You still wanna do this?” He whispered. “We can stop if you want to.”

You leaned up on your elbows and gave him your answer with a kiss. He pressed his palm on your cheek and deepened the kiss, pushing you back down as he did. The two of you made out like two teenagers, and you could feel Joel's cock hardening against you. You slipped your hand in between your bodies and gripped his cock, rubbing the head against your entrance. Joel groaned, his head falling into your shoulder. He bit down as you pushed his cock inside yourself, your moans harmonising, the sensation almost too much.

Joel took over, grabbed your hands, and pinned them above your head. The animalistic look was in his eyes again, grunting with every thrust, his grip against your wrists tightening. You closed your eyes, and Joel growled.

“You thought about this while fucking yourself.” He said, his voice low. “Open your eyes and look at me while I fuck you.”

You opened your eyes and were met by Joel's big, brown ones that were now practically black. He fucked you harder, thrusting in and out as his thumb once again circled your clit. There was a ninety-eight percent chance that someone on the other side of the forest could hear everything, but at this moment neither of you cared. After weeks of awkwardness, of fantasising about each other while you touched yourselves, this felt right, like something had finally clicked into place — and you'd be damned if this was the first and only time it happened. Now you'd had a taste, you couldn't ever go back.

Joel picked up the pace, and you could once again feel your orgasm rising. You pulled Joel closer, your foreheads touching, your vision falling out of focus as you stared into Joel's eyes, but you refused to look away.

“Fuck, Joel, I'm so close” You whimpered, bucking your hips to meet his thrust, his cock hitting deeper each time you moved.

“If you keep doing that, I'm gonna -” Joel grunted, your synced thrusts getting faster. “Fuck, baby.” Joel moaned. “I'm gonna, shit -”

“Let go for me, Joel.” You whispered in his ear. “Come for me, and next time, I'll show you what I can do with my mouth.”

It only took a couple more thrusts before you and Joel finished together, and he slumped on top of you, breathing heavily. You lifted his head up, brushed his hair out his face, and smiled up at him, hearts practically in your eyes.

“So…” you said, and he reciprocated the smile. “Sooo…” He repeated.

“Are you going to be all weird with me again?” You teased, and Joel arched his eyebrow, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I don't think so,” Joel replied, dipping his head for another kiss. “Especially if I want this to happen again.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you think we're doing this again?” You asked, and Joel grinned.

“Oh we're definitely doing that again.” Joel answered, and you giggled as he rolled off you and reached a blanket that was on a chair next to the bed. He flung it over the two of you before pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips against your temple. “I wanna know what you can do with that mouth.” He mumbled.

You giggled again, your heart fluttering as he linked his fingers around yours and kissed your knuckles. “Keep this up, and you'll find out.” You replied before a yawn slipped out.

“Alright you little tease, I think I can hold out until tomorrow.” Joel chuckled. “Right now, I think you need to sleep.”

You snuggled into Joel's chest, his fingers running through your hair. You never thought you'd be in this position, in bed with Joel Miller. You knew there was a lot more to talk about, but right now, you didn't care. You just focused on Joel's heartbeat under your head, on his fingers in your hair. Focused on how — even though there were still many dangers to staying in this cabin, it was still the safest you'd been in a long time.

The last thing you heard as you drifted into a peaceful sleep was a quiet confession from Joel; one you weren't sure you were actually meant to hear. “I'll always keep you safe. Even if it means giving my life.”

[kryannoy]

Hey, can we have a Yan!Andrew Graves with Reader?

genre: sfw, headcanons + fic

characters: yandere!andrew graves x reader

warnings: manipulation, gaslighting, obsession, possessive andrew

a/n: i don't normally write yandere characters so this was a bit of a challenge. hope this suits your request and enjoyed reading!

He's so obsessed with you but he's subtle with it—more like whatever stupid thing he does, he'll make sure you don't see it.

When he loves you, he'll make sure to keep you happy just so you will always come to him whenever something happens. He'll open a bottle cap for you without being told, he'll wipe your mouth with his fingers if it's messy—totally not putting them in his mouth afterwards. He'll open the door for you, let you cry on his shoulder, gives you hugs when you need it. Every subtle thing to manipulate you into coming back to him when you need support.

If someone talks to you, he'll be right behind you with arms wrapped around your waist while glaring daggers at the other person.

"No, no. Continue. Don't mind me, pretend that I don't exist."

To you, his tone sounds normal but to the poor guy, it's like a cleaver skinning them alive.

If someone even looks at you without you knowing, it's gonna be hell for them. He somehow won't be afraid to kidnap that person, tie them up and threaten them with Andrew's favorite cleaver until the person is diagnosed with PTSD.

He will shamelessly go back to you with a smile on his handsome face as if nothing happened.

Andrew would kill anyone for you but if you tell him not to, he won't.

Although, he knows you would be scared if you saw him murdering people, he won't do it anyways. The last thing he wants is you running away from him.

You have no idea why people start to turn their backs on you and you would think that you've done something wrong. So, you ask Andrew for advice or if he knows anything, exactly what he planned for.

And he would smile innocently from his success and spread out his arms. You would dive into his comfy sweater without knowing the hands that are holding you are the hands that have done so many questionable and criminal acts.

"C'mere you. Aw, you poor thing! I'm sure no one hates you. Who would? They're probably out of social energy from a rough day or something. Don't you worry!"

He'll kiss your forehead, then your nose, and lastly, your lips. You would smile and he would smile into the kiss while thinking how naive you are.

He admits sometimes that he feels guilty for deceiving you but what can he do? How could he come up to you and admit to all the crimes he's done? You wouldn't look at him the same anymore, would you? Would you still love him despite knowing what he did or what he ate? He wouldn't take any risks. If he has the person he loves the most in his arms, why would he easily throw you away?

If the truth hasn't been told, he'll keep you for himself. He'll keep you forever.

You knew he acted differently than normal people. He's a little different because of his upbringing, and that's normal for kids with neglected parents growing up with a weird habit of theirs and that was just his charm, right?

Because you think it was just a charm of his, you didn't run when you had the chance to. Besides, if he was so sweet to you, so kind to you, so good to you, he wouldn't hurt you, would he?

There's a reunion dinner later tonight with your old high school mates and of course you're coming. You haven't seen your friends in a long time. You've already informed Andrew of this and for the past week he was okay with it, but why is his tone now sounded . . . different?

"You're going?" He asked from the couch. One of his legs propped up on the other and an arm over the couch. His green eyes look up and down at your fit that he knows you chose the best from your closet. You're going to meet some nobodies with that outfit? You didn't even wear something so pretty when he's around! Not that you aren't pretty. It's just you put a tiny bit less effort when going out or being with Andrew.

"I've already told you, haven't I?" You're putting on your shoes at the front door and you hear some shuffling. Your hand is at the doorknob now. "I'll be back before ten. I prom—"

The door slams shut again before you could even open a crack. You can feel him behind you. His hands on the door, caging you between him and the solid wood.

"You are not going." His voice is low, almost threatening.

You turn around to face. You do not want to have this conversation right now. You're going to be late, that is if you find a way to stir this around to go your way.

"Andrew, this is unfair. Last week, you told me I can go so why are you backing out now? Tonight of all days!"

It wasn't his intention to upset you nor ruin your night but why are they taking you away from him?

"Why are you still excited about going? Don't you remember what they've done to you? They isolated you . . . remember?"

They isolated you. Yeah, right. He was the reason behind it anyways, but poor you who loves him too never suspected your own boyfriend was the culprit.

"They . . . didn't. You said they didn't have the energy to talk," your voice was almost a whisper. You weren't even confident of your own answer. You're starting to reminisce about the old days at school. Sure, they didn't talk to you anymore, but the reunion dinner is going to be different, right?

His hand moves down to lock the door but his actions made you take a step back, hitting the door. You forgot you're kind of trapped right now with no way out unless reasoning with him first.

"You don't really have to go . . ." The same hand moves up to your hair, tucking some strands behind your ear ever so gently it's almost . . . unnervingly creepy. "Do you?"

His eyebrow raised in question.

Your heart is starting to pick up its pace. Your fingertips are running cold. You don't understand yourself why you're so nervous in front of him. I mean, you had been nervous around him but this is a different kind of nervous. It's fear. Fear of him. However, he never hurt you yet. He never raised his voice to you. He's always been nice and sweet to you. But you really can't help this weird feeling.

So you slowly tell him how you feel.

"You're scaring me."

And there it is. It hit something in him. It's the last thing he wants, but the first thing to make you listen to him.

You can see his facial expression changes from demanding to guilt.

"Love, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just me!" His caging arms now freeing you while backing away a bit, most likely a tactic to show you he's innocent. "I'm just saying, wouldn't you be left out at dinner? I don't want my pretty girl coming home sad and disappointed when the past week you've been so excited about this dinner."

Andrew takes your silence to continue. "Stay here. With me."

You really want to insist on going yet you don't want to risk starting a fight. But it's unfair! You always let him win you over, now he needs to listen and let you go. Maybe a small chance could probably lead to a huge success.

"But please!" You drag the word longer, hoping he'll give in. "I haven't seen my friends for I don't how many years. It's just this once."

You seem energetic again. He takes this chance to step closer, a hand on the side of your face. His thumb brushes along your glossed lips you put on earlier, smudging it. His gaze move up from your lips to your eyes.

"I'm sorry, darling, but no means no." He said it so softly before he kissed you longingly. You somehow melt into him despite your disagreement. He's really not losing—like always.

He broke off the kiss to continue persuading you to stay. "I'm doing this for your own good. Sometimes you're too naive to be staying around them. You're too nice. I've seen it. And it hurts to watch you being used and throw you away."

You exhale a deep breath from the stress. Maybe Andrew's right. Maybe you are too naive to realize. They asked you for homework and notes, but then one day, they stopped talking to you. Maybe they really did see no use in you they've fulfilled their satisfaction.

But Andrew . . . Andrew never stopped talking to you. Andrew never threw you away. Andrew was always there through it all. Andrew never left you by yourself.

Like right now.

"Okay," you spoke softly, like a whisper, before nodding your head. "I'll stay in with you."

Good thing you were looking at the ground because now, Andrew can't hide the big smile on his face. He successfully manages to keep you by his side. His heart beats rapidly from the excitement, his skin was buzzing. He can be with you tonight. He can stay with you. Just the two of you!

He pulls you in his arms and strokes your hair. "That's my good girl. Always so obedient." He kisses the crown of your head before leading you to your bedroom so you can change to a more comfortable clothes.

He dreams of having you by his side forever but he doesn't want to go to extreme measures such as locking you in or tying you up. Maybe not just yet. Since you're so good to him and love him too, you deserve to roam around freely until you start to disobey.

He wouldn't want to do it but tonight, he was close to doing so just from how persistent you were.

[colourstreakgryffin]

*holds hands out for alms*

Reincarnation content where wife!s/o of Muzan who cared and loved him during his sickly heian days (who died either natural causes / accident, and he didn't get to appreciate her enough and is kind of an a-hole at that time) reborn as a hashira? And he stumbles upon her?

*coughs aggressively* i need bittersweet pining Muzan to cure my desperation

Wooowwww! I like this idea so much! This is actually very cool and I absolutely love this! Once again, thank you all for this incredible concepts! Muzan is quite the common powerhouse for this blog so let’s give him more attention

Kibutsuji Muzan- Loop-Around

Muzan knows those eyes too well… those beautiful, colourful eyes on a woman so pretty and loving. The flashbacks, the memories, the tragedy and the anger he feels over his past. Over his own failure and his own mistakes over what he did during Heian Era, during his life as a human. Those awful, painful drawn-out days where all he could do was sit in a bed and watch people come in and out of his room

The person who arrived the most was his assigned wife, Dokusha. A kind, patient, sophisticated woman of wealth, and she always spent so much time to take care of and love Muzan, all whilst looking around for the right medicine to cure his terminal illness. Muzan, during this time, couldn’t care less for that woman. She was just a useful tool to make him comfortable, feel validated and save his life but through the weeks, as he grew even weaker, he got real tired of waiting to be rescued by so many incompetents.

When he gotten given a type of medicine that worked, that odd concoction from a rather viable doctor you had bought in for Muzan, and when it shaped him into the first ever demon. He could finally walk for the first time in his life

And he walked out of that room… in perfect health, with razor sharp fangs, with a blood-thirst for human flesh, with his muscles clenching and strong. However, as he explored. He ended up finding something else as tragic as what he caused to his rescuer. His assigned wife mauled to death by wild Ussuri Brown bears in the forest, all whilst clearly trying to find absolutely any medicinal herbs that could possibly do anything to save Muzan

Muzan never really appreciated nor cared for Dokusha, he didn’t see her as much of a person and whilst he looked at the mangled body of that woman… he felt… almost nothing. It wasn’t disgust but it also wasn’t anger, it was just… emptiness and after that day. He suspected he would never see a human woman named Dokusha ever again, foolishly unaware of the fact he truly did love Dokusha and truly did feel a deep pit of misery-fuelled fury at her death. She did so much for him and he did nothing for her

Even after learning the fatal accident that caused her death was entirely centred around trying to recover Muzan from his birth sickness

Currently as the high and mighty Demon King, the first ever Demon in existence. Kibutsuji Muzan, has been confronted by the newest Hashira of the Demon Slayer Corps in Asakusa, the Tashio Era when walking back to his ‘family’, and she has the eyes and the voice of his real wife. 10,000 years after her death, she’s back in a entirely new form and just knowing his dead wife has been reincarnated as his moral enemy is making Muzan’s undead heart throb in pain and outrage. Why does he feel this way looking into this Hashira’s eyes?

10,000 years after her death and now, Muzan has finally realised he has missed his wife so bad that he has grown desperate to see her again. He never noticed it, he always thought about locating the Blue Spider Lily and spreading over his ‘gift’ of demonicism around to every human he can find to gain the power he desires, to concur the Sun. Now, he notices how aggressive he is over the idea of love and how he is so repulsed by the six other wives he has pretended to marry throughout his life

Muzan stayed silent, blood red slit-pupiled eyes glaring at his reborn Hashira wife, taking in her features to every corner and constantly seeing glimpses and flashes of her original self… she’s so beautiful and he didn’t even notice how beautiful Dokusha actually was. How she didn’t deserve to die for his sake, if he could, he’d have ordered Dokusha to stay with him when she left upon calling that doctor in, as to save her life so then, he could have turned her into an demon too

Made her his Queen of Demons but no… he failed and now, he is beyond bittersweet. Pining, angry at his own blindness, upset he let the only woman who actually genuinely cared about him go… if he could reverse time, he would

Muzan, now, cannot bring himself to be the cause of his wife’s death once more… he can’t. He’ll just have to figure out another way to get her back, all without hurting her so before Dokusha could even think to begin attacking the Demon King with all the strength she has within that branded Nichirin Katana. Muzan fades away into the pitch black night, his glowing red eyes providing the only semblance of light for him when he retreats from that Hashira and those magnificent eyes, disappearing several streets down from her in a way she can’t track him down

He loves her

He knows he loves his wife and he can’t believe he had to wait for 10,000 years to recognise the mere fact that he did love Dokusha. Even if he didn’t know her enough to even call her a friend, her optimistic compassionate nature and the right to admire that personality was drowned out by Muzan’s own bitterness and desire to remain alive. He messed up royally with the first Dokusha, he won’t mess up with the second Dokusha

And he will make her his queen… even if it includes spending hours following the Ice Hashira around. He’ll do it and he already has a plan devised in his mind. He won’t hesitate to find some method to transform into a powerful immortal being like himself

All because he wants you back so bad

[taintedcigs]

✦ SOMETHING LIKE THIS | eddie m. x reader ✦

wc: 6.3k+

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: nothing rlly, partying, drinking, kissing, fluffy fluff, angsty if u squint!, high mention?, drinking games!!, truth or dare bc im such a cliche <3

summary: a truth or dare game with eddie reveals some truths between the two of you.

authors note: omg i feel like i haven't posted in forever and this so LONGG and if u can guess which show i was heavily inspired by when i wrote the closet scene i will give u thousand of kisses. as usual i kinda hate this and the ending but this took forever to write and idk i just love friends to lovers eddie SOO MUCH. this is proofread but i only read it once so pls ignore any mistakes !! also if u guys enjoyed this pls LEAVE FEEDBACK, come talk to me in asks, requests r open!! ily all sm, mwah, em!

You scoffed as you made your way past the drunken slimy bodies, pushing everyone out of the way until you finally made it into the kitchen, having no idea how Steve had managed to throw a bash this crowded and your head was spinning too much to care now.

Stumbling a bit your feet picked you up toward the drink stand, shaking the empty bottles, you sighed. "Really? All of them?" you huffed annoyed as you turned around, spotting Robin with a bottle in her hand, you smirked.

"Robin! You are my hero." You giggled as you approached her, grabbing the bottle despite her protests as you chugged a huge sip, your face contorting at the taste.

"Jesus, slow down! You're going to get black out drunk again and then complain all day tomorrow." Nancy came up behind Robin as she scoffed, this is what you had been doing all week, and Nancy was starting to get worried but you rolled your eyes at her, while Robin gave her a 'don't say that' look.

"C'mon Nance, let her be. She's got enough on her plate as it is!" Robin made a suggestive look as you took another sip, turning to face her.

Nancy pursed her lips as she shrugged. "And what does that mean?" You asked, knitting your brows together. Robin pointed towards Eddie, and your eyes followed.

He was chugging the beer he had a firm grip on, face contorting as he took more and more sips, your heart dropped to your stomach at the sight, you knew he would be here, yet you couldn't help the tingles that overtook your body when you saw him.

You were so stupid.

"I don't know what you mean." You shrugged your shoulders, lying through your teeth, Eddie had been sort of avoiding you for some time, and now, for a whole week, he was acting as if you didn't exist.

You didn't know why or how, but it was eating away at you.

Spending your days drinking and smoking away your feelings had become a regular habit ever since he had started avoiding you, and Nancy and Robin had started to get worried about your current coping mechanism.

To say you were feeling hurt would be an understatement, you and Eddie were supposed to be friends, best friends even, in the last four years, you had grown close to him, so close that being away from him even for a second hurt.

And now this distance, his cold attitude, not returning any of your calls, and eventually pretending as if you didn't exist, was eating at you, your own insecurities were bubbling up at the surface.

What was so wrong with you that Eddie couldn't even tell it to your face?

"I mean, it is weird, I've never seen the two of you apart for an hour, let alone a week." Robin spoke up, mentally cursing herself for not being able to stop blabbering and Nancy gave her a look, one that meant, 'not the fucking time' and you narrowed your eyes, hurt twinging in your chest.

"Shutting up now?" Robin asked awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders in defense, "I hope." You replied, trying to hide the hurt in your tone.

Your eyes searched for Eddie again, he was now conversing with Argyle and Jonathan, he looked uncomfortable, he could feel your gaze on him and he was doing everything in his willpower to not meet your disappointed eyes, he knew he would soften up the second he saw you.

"I think I have a plan." Nancy muttered to Robin behind you as they quickly left your side, you were too busy to notice anything as you leaned on the wall chugging the bottle again, face feeling numb.

You meant to talk to him, ask him why he was avoiding you, but you were afraid of his answer, what if Eddie didn't want to be your friend anymore?

What if Eddie was going to tell you how much he started hating you and that he never wanted to see your face again?

You would much prefer the distance rather than be shunned by him. You doubted you could handle anything without him by your side.

You knew what you felt for him was far beyond friendship now, but you never could fully admit to it.

For months, Nancy and Robin had been trying to get you to admit to it, but you had always refused, saying the two of you were 'just friends.'

But you knew, and they knew that people who were 'just friends', didn't do what you two did, friends didn't have movie nights where they ended up cuddling each other and falling asleep in each other's arms, sometimes, Eddie would even place a kiss on your forehead when you fell asleep, tucking you in as a grin took over his lips, seeing how peaceful you were.

Friends didn't have dates in Eddie's van, seated in the back as the both of you ashed a joint, wasting away the night before you watched the sunset with him, his childish grin as he told you all of his stupid jokes feeling like a kick in your stomach now.

And you knew, you knew, friends didn't look at each other the same way both of you looked at one another.

So, you were nervous, nervous that you had fucked up the only good thing in your life, nervous of what he might say to you.

But this apparent nervousness was nowhere to be seen when you had drunk this much. Before you knew it, you found your two feet dragging you to his side, unable to take control of yourself, the drunk you had decided that you had enough.

You slid past the drunk bodies standing in the way of Eddie, your fingertips anxiously fiddling with the bottle, you could barely balance yourself, smushing yourself against the wall near him.

"Hi." You intended for your voice to come out soft but your words were slurred, and Eddie almost stilled when he heard it.

His heart was thudding inside of his chest, he knew you would be at Steve's party, but he never thought you would actually talk to him, not when he had been a complete asshole to you for a while now.

His gaze was avoidant, almost as avoidant as he was and your stomach was churning again, and this time it was not the alcohol.

It was all him.

"Hey." His greeting was short, your mouth had dried up, and the drunk version of you didn't have the tolerance you had for the past week.

Your eyes narrowed as you straightened yourself. "Hey? Is that all you have to fucking say?" You almost snapped, you hadn't meant to sound so sharp, the words left your mouth like word vomit, it probably wasn't fair how you spat them at him, but his coldness to you wasn't fair, either.

You knew once you brought the subject to him there was no turning back, you were afraid of the possibility of him never talking to you again but the liquid in your system gave you enough courage to do what you feared, ripping the band-aid off, and you thought maybe, maybe, ending the friendship would cause you less pain than whatever he was supposed to be doing.

"Hello?" He attempted to joke, and if you weren't this stupidly smitten over him, and maybe a bit buzzed, it wouldn't have worked, but it did. All it took for him to soften you up was a stupid joke, causing you to giggle drunkenly, as you leaned into the wall again.

"Really?" You shook your head, "That's the best you got?" You tilted your head to the side, giving him a warm smile, you couldn't help it, it was the most you had talked with him this week, and you were already putty in his hands, you hated him, and you hated the effect he had on you.

He shrugged, it was obvious he felt more comfortable, his eyes not leaving yours. "Made you laugh, didn't I?" you nodded, you didn't mean to get this soft on him this quickly, but you couldn't help it, not when he made you feel at ease this easily.

You hated and loved how everything with Eddie made you feel at ease, feeling safe with him like you could bring your guard down for once.

You huffed, mind more mellow as you eyed him. "Missed this, ya know?" Your words were slurred again, you knew it wasn't the alcohol talking, but at the same time without it, you never would have had the courage.

Eddie's eyes were glossy and riddled with remorse as they gazed into yours, you could sense it, sense that he was feeling guilty, you bit the inside of your cheek when he looked at you like that.

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"Missed this-" you pointed between the two of you, "Just missed being with y-you." You couldn't help it when your words were tangled with each other again, it made you scared to admit any of this, while Eddie just gave you a sigh.

"You're drunk?" He questioned. "Again?" If you didn't know how Eddie had been treating you the past week you'd think he was worried about you, considerate even, but the way his actions changed made you doubt his sincerity.

Eddie had been aware of your new coping mechanism, his mouth felt dry when Steve told him how badly you had been taking Eddie's new demeanor.

"Mhm." You hummed, signaling to the bottle as you attempted to chug it again but Eddie shook his head, quickly taking it away from your hands. You gasped as you straightened yourself. "Rude."

"You will get shit faced and have the worst hangover, and I'm sure you'll curse us out for letting you drink that much." He raised his brows to warn you and you pouted at him like a child.

"You sound just like Nancy." You scoffed, biting back the insult you had at the tip of your tongue about how he decided to care about you now, instead settling on making him chuckle, and just with his laugh, you felt a tinge of pride swell in your chest, it was pathetic how desperate you were for him.

"No fun, I'm crossing you out." You whined as you draw an 'X' in the air, with pouty lips and soft eyes, Eddie had a foolish grin on his face when he was comfortable with you again, almost at peace with how your soul embraced his.

He felt like an asshole, and so fucking stupid for the way he acted, but it was the only thing he knew how to do: running away from his feelings.

"Come on, where the hell have you guys been, we've got some drinking games going on!" You were startled by Robin's loud voice, and as turning to face her, you heard Eddie's groans behind you.

"No way." Eddie shook his head and you threw him a puzzled look.

"No?" You furrowed your brows. "But, you love drinking games."

"Yeah, you love drinking games. Don't be a buzzkill, Munson." Robin interrupted, she shot a look at Eddie that made him confused but intrigued, and he couldn't say no when the two of you dragged him to where everyone else was gathered.

You sat down next to him and felt your hazy drunken state get worse, it was as if everything was becoming all too real.

Realizing that the conversation you just had with him meant nothing, not after he had been avoiding you for a week, and now your mind was swirled with the thoughts of what was going to happen when you two finally had 'the talk', anxiety riddling over your body again.

"What game are we playing?" You asked in an attempt to shake off your thoughts, it didn't help when Eddie's gaze landed on you and you could feel your cheeks burning with his gaze alone, causing you to chew on your bottom lip out of nervousness.

"We just played endless rounds of 'Never Have I Ever'" Nancy sighed, almost annoyed.

"Turns out Steve the King is bit of a slut." Robin semi-whispered as Steve gasped, holding his heart to be dramatic.

"Really, Robin?" He furrowed his brows. "Well, it's not my fault you hooked up with the half of—" Robin was interrupted by Eddie's groan.

"C'mon you guys let's just play whatever this is and get on with it." His voice sounded annoyed, you turned to face him, but Eddie was already avoiding your gaze again, he looked nervous, and you wanted to roll your eyes, he was being an asshole, again.

You could feel anger bubbling up inside of your chest, and Robin could feel the tension in the air. "Okayy, truth or dare it is!" Robin interrupted with a nervous giggle.

"I thought we were playing Never Have I Ever-" You were shut up by Robin's shushes.

"Yes and now we switched to Truth or Dare, keep up, sweetheart." You furrowed your brows and giggled, turning to Steve as if to ask what was wrong with Robin, but Steve put his hands up in defense, shrugging.

Something weird was going on and you couldn't put a finger on it, and to be honest, your mind was too fuzzy to figure any of it out, filled both with alcohol and the thoughts of Eddie. Robin grabbed the bottle and spun it around the circle, the anticipation of it made her fiddle in her place, and when it landed on Steve, she groaned.

"Steve! I think you should pick truth, are you a virgin? Oh wait, you are not! Let me spin it again." Robin talked so fast that even Eddie threw her a look, you were usually used to her fast-paced actions but she was giving you a whiplash now.

"Robin, what the hell are you—" Eddie's words were cut short by Robin's shriek.

"Wow! It landed on Eddie, what a surprise." Robin rubbed her hands together almost like a villain in a cartoon.

"So, truth or dare, Eddie? Oh, also you can't say truth because Steve just picked that." Robin hit her hand against her forehead in a fake manner, and you giggled again at her actions, unaware of what was coming next.

"Okaa...ay, dare?" Eddie asked unsurely, and Robin mimicked a thinking face, you had no idea what was coming next, but you doubted anything Robin would dare him to do could fix whatever was going on with Eddie.

"I dare you to..." She paused for a minute.

"Go into that closet and not come out until you and Y/N make out." Robin's words were like a slap on your face, and she had that stupid grin on her face that you wanted to wipe off.

"Excuse me?" The two of you said in unison and you were afraid to look at him now.

"I mean... a dare is a dare." Steve shrugged, and Robin nodded quickly causing you to sigh.

"You are a child, Robin." You threw her a death stare, your mind was still hazy as you began to get up, and Eddie was still where he was sitting, he twisted his rings, an action you knew he did when he was nervous.

"Well, are you just going to wait around all day?" You snapped, not knowing what came over you when you were this drunk.

"You're okay with this?" Eddie's face was almost red as he looked up at you, hating the way a nervous tingle formed in your stomach with how he looked at you.

"It's just a d—dare, let's get it over with." You meant to sound confident but your words came out as a murmur.

"This is so stupid." He scoffed as he followed you into the closet, Robin following up behind the two of you. She locked the door when the two of you entered and she sent you a smirk before she did so, making you scoff.

"I swear I'm going to kill her." You said sharply, turning your back on the door.

When you finally faced Eddie you realized how close he was standing to your face, his tall figure towering over you was enough to make your breath hitch.

"Hi." was all he muttered as he looked down on you, making you realize how much you missed the warmth of his soft gaze and you hated yourself for how enamored you were with him.

"Hi." You managed to let out when you caught your breath, the room felt suffocating, and you could barely swallow the lump in your throat.

The possibility of him kissing you made you want to scream, both from excitement and fear.

"So... we have to kiss?" He said awkwardly, scratching his head, almost as if it were a question and you nodded quickly, knowing he was too nervous to make the first move so you had to take matters into your own hands.

"What's the big deal? It's just a kiss. We've been best friends for years, we can do it." You said, with a nonchalant tone, but the hint of nervousness was still visible.

"Let's just do it!" You announced excitedly, "kiss me, Edward Munson!" Eddie chuckled at that, making you realize how much you had missed that genuine laugh.

"Edward..." He tilted his head, "Really?" He raised a brow, causing you to pout.

"Yeah." You giggled softly, offering him a smile, knowing how much he hated someone saying his full name, he gave you a light chuckle.

“Okay, yeah, I think I deserved that." He attempted to joke, the air still tense but filled with your giggles.

"Let's do this...” Eddie added cooly, his hands at his side as he leaned towards you, licking his lips.

“Why are you licking your lips?” You questioned, making Eddie chuckle, as he stopped leaning in further.

"Should I not?" He raised a brow, "I mean do you want dry lips?” He asked sarcastically and you shook your head chuckling.

"No, no!" You protested, face burning from embarrassment. "Never mind..." You chuckled.

“I didn’t think it was—” Eddie started but you interrupted, “No.. no it’s okay.. I just..” You were a stuttering mess now.

"Let’s do it.. I—I’m ready.” His tone was soft when he spoke, he was less nervous and you nodded frantically.

You started leaning in but then abruptly stopped, making Eddie furrow his brows.

“Do you want tongue? Are you like a tonguer?” You asked, your face was serious and Eddie's eyes widened.

“Am I a what?” Eddie asked baffled as you chuckled, shaking your head.

"Fuck..." You cursed, giggles errupting in your throat from nervousness. "I didn't mean it like that, I just meant—" You were babbling, your heart hammering inside of your chest.

"I mean do you like tongue in kissing? I just— I wouldn’t wanna use tongue if you don’t want to..." You trailed off.

“Let’s just do it!” Eddie exclaimed interrupting as you let out another giggle, your nerves were getting the best of you.

“Yes, sorry. Are you ready?” You asked, weight of anticipation settling heavily in your chest as Eddie nodded, “Yes.. I’m ready.. let’s just do this..” Eddie let out slowly, scratching his head from nervousness as you nodded once again.

You barely moved when he leaned towards you, almost frozen in place you stared at him, stared at the sickly sweet brown of his eyes, stared at his dark hair that messily laid on his forehead, and you couldn't help it when your eyes lowered down to gaze at his lips, adoring the curve of his mouth.

Your gaze was stuck on him in a way that made your eyes glimmer with an array of emotions, not knowing if this would be your first and last kiss with him, trying your best to etch this sight of him into your mind forever, unsure of whether you could ever see him up this close again.

and as if Eddie could read your mind, he realized, he realized the weight of how you were staring at him. With more he studied your face, the connection between the two of you deepened, unraveling what he most wanted. You.

“Fuck— You.. you can’t do that!” He exclaimed, desperately, and you knitted your brows in confusion, “What... what did I do?” Eddie was being ridiculous now.

"Jesus Christ, you can't just do that to me." His face was burning up, he thought maybe, that this dare would be good for him, maybe the best way to get over his feelings was to kiss you for once, but the way your eyes glimmered was enough to make him want to stare at you forever, and he couldn't do that when he was trying to keep his feelings for you bottled up, forever.

Now, he was regretting the dare as he could feel the pressure building and you looked so pretty that Eddie felt his heart sink in his body, if he kissed you, he knew he couldn't contain his feelings for you no longer, he sighed, shaking his head.

“You can't do that thing with your eyes and face!” He exclaimed as you scoffed, “What the hell are you talking about?” You almost yelled, getting frustrated by his stand-offish attitude.

“Okay that’s it.. I— I can’t do it!” He huffed as he reached for the doorknob, struggling with it.

“Let me out guys!” Eddie yelled but Robin just chuckled, “You have to kiss her, you idiot!”

“Let me out of here, Robin!” He yelled louder this time, but instead of Robin answering this time Steve, Nancy, Argyle, Jonathan, and the gathered crowd answered to him, chanting “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” and Eddie rolled his eyes, cursing.

“Oh come on Eddie, let’s just do this! Just one kiss!” You said annoyed, and you felt a bit rejected at how much he wanted to leave.

Eddie turned around to meet your gaze, “No, I’m not gonna fucking kiss you.” His words were bitter and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from crying in front of him.

“Eddie we've been best friends for four years! A little kiss isn’t gonna change anything.” The words that left your mouth stung him, it wasn't easy on you but the emphasis on the two of you being best friends and how a kiss wouldn't change a thing between the two of you was the exact reason he was avoiding you.

Eddie knew if you had rejected him, and told him that you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it would eventually lead to the two of you not being friends.

And he couldn't handle that idea, he couldn't handle not being around you. That's why he tried to stay away from you, just so he could contain his feelings for you, at least for a while.

His gaze on you was agonizing, “Stop looking at me like that.” He muttered as you rolled your eyes, and crossed your arms around your chest, annoyed.

“God, will you just kiss me already!” You blurted out, now getting annoyed with him, not being able to comprehend why Eddie was making such a big deal out of this when it was just supposed to be a dare.

"No."

“Why not?” You questioned, eager to know why he had been acting this way, Eddie ran his hands across his hair, ruffling it before he gripped your shoulders to get your attention fully, “Because..." He took a deep breath as he put his trembling hands into his back pockets, he was trying to hold himself back, but he couldn't, not when you looked at him that way.

"Because I don't want to kiss you like this!” He almost snapped, his feelings taking over before his logic could, and you went rigid with his words.

His own reaction was delayed as his eyes widened at his own words, and he was standing close to you, so close, that your breath hitched when he said that. “What.. what does that mean?”  Your head was spinning as Eddie looked down, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“Nothing! I didn’t— I just... That’s not what I fucking meant..” Eddie stuttered over his words, he felt like his desperation had trickled into the very air he was breathing in, his own words suffocating him and your gaze mocking him, he couldn't handle it further as people outside the closet started chanting “Kiss! Kiss!” again.

Eddie scoffed again, “Shit— just, excuse me..” He cursed out as he tried the doorknob again.

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, you wanted to talk to him now.

“Just need some air” He murmured and tried the door again.

“Robin, just open up!” Eddie yelled out making Robin groan, “Did you kiss her?” Eddie rolled his eyes, and he got ready to curse Robin out but you placed your hands over his mouth, shushing him.

“Yes, yes Robin! We fucking did, we even french kissed! You happy?” You yelled out as Robin giddily chuckled unlocking the door.

You threw her a dead stare as Eddie just brushed past her, hurrying his way out and you followed quickly behind him.

"Eddie, just wait!" You called out after him, you were curious to know what he meant, why he was acting this way, none of it was making sense to you and you were still very buzzed.

"Just leave me the fuck alone, Y/N." He didn't even turn around to face you and it hurt.

"No! I'm not going to fucking run away this time." You yelled, catching up to him, and Eddie turned around swiftly.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, his tone curious and not annoyed like before.

"I'm not playing your stupid game anymore, I don't care if you tell me you hate me, Eddie, just tell me what's wrong, tell me what I did to make you push me away this much. You can insult me and tell me to 'fucking leave' but I won't leave until you tell me to my face what I did to make you push me away, you fucking coward!" You spat out the words, rolling your shoulders as you felt your anger coming out to the surface.

Eddie rubbed his hands against his face, you were asking for him to be vulnerable, and he knew that if he opened up to you, you would probably laugh in his face.

"I just—" He scoffed, "I don't wanna do this. Not right now." He sighed, and he drooped his head, his gaze fixated on the ground now.

"Just tell me what the fuck is wrong, Eddie." You almost yelled, feeling your face hot with anger. "What did you mean by when you said you didn't want to kiss me like this?"

"And why have you been avoiding me, why can't you even look me in the fucking eye right now?" To say you were frustrated would be an understatement, liquid courage had worked a little too well and you were pouring your gut out to him.

You crossed your arms against your chest, feeling your cheeks burning up with anger, you were filled with fury, and nothing Eddie could do was going to change that.

In fact, it made it worse when he kept avoiding his gaze. "Fuck you." You spat out, index finger pointed towards him, hostility written all over your face, your feet picked you up before your mind realized, and you brushed past him as you angrily left his side.

"Just— fucking wait!" His words rang in your ears but you didn't care, you kept walking while Eddie was right behind you.

"Let me just explain!" He yelled out after you. "Jesus— you're fucking fast." He added as he tried to catch up to you.

You stopped in your tracks, and your back was turned to him. "Eddie, just get it over with." You crossed your arms against your chest again, feeling your insides twist as you waited for him to pull the band-aid off.

"What?" He raised his brows in confusion, and you didn't dare to look at him.

"You realized it, didn't you? I mean it took me a while to realize it myself." Your voice was timid, not trusting yourself enough that you wouldn't break down completely in front of him.

"And you realized you didn't reciprocate them, and you're trying to let me off easy by avoiding me." You could feel tears prickling your eyes but you shook your head to make them go away.

"I know you hate confrontation." Your voice was cracking now, and Eddie hated it, he hated being the reason you were about to cry, he hated being the reason you doubted yourself because of him.

"What are you talking about? Reciprocating what?" He didn't dare to turn you to face him, he was still shocked at the possibility of what you were hinting at.

"Feelings, Eddie. My fucking feelings for you!" You turned around to face him now, and his eyes had softened, he blinked slowly to process what you were saying. The air between the two of you was filled with unspoken emotions, your body ridden with anticipation and anxiety.

But Eddie felt stupid, so fucking stupid. He spent this whole week bottling up his feelings for you, and avoiding you to do so because he thought he wasn't good enough for you, he thought you would actually mock him.

He should've known you would never do that, he should've told the insecure voice in his head to shut the fuck up.

Because there you were in front of him, saying exactly what he was feeling, and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world.

"Your... what?" His eyebrows furrowed, and he wanted to laugh, he wanted to laugh at how stupid he was being.

"Just— let's just pretend this never happened." You could barely look at him, nervously fiddling with your fingers.

"Nope." He shook his head.

There was no fucking way he would pretend this had never happened, he had been waiting, for years to tell you how he felt, every night he would give himself a pep talk, encouraging himself to finally open up to you, but when he finally saw you in the morning, and you gave him that warm smile and those doe-eyes, he always backed out, scared of losing you forever.

"No fucking way." He shook his head, and a chuckle escaped his lips.

The look you threw him was filled with disdain, "Oh, so this is funny to you?" You were quick to judge him, turning around and muttering curse words as your feet began to pick up again.

"Jesus Christ, will you let me speak!" He yelled out again and you shook your head, walking faster. Eddie scoffed, "So. Fucking. Stubborn." He muttered under his breath.

He caught up to you once again and this time he reached out to your free hand, and he grabbed it in a tight firm, spinning you around to face him, you were about to cuss him out again, and throw him a death glare, but his gaze was so gentle that you couldn't help it, your eyes were mellow, sickly sweet, as they met his.

Your heart reacted before you could, thumping in your chest. Eddie was leaning so close towards you that you sensed his heavy breathing against your face, you didn't dare to move, not until his tender fingertips brushed against your cheeks, he leaned over so agonizingly slow that you couldn't help but close the gap between the two of you, soft lips clashing with each other as you whimpered the second your mouth met his.

Eddie's chest fizzled with warmness, the smell of your perfume mixed with alcohol dizzying him while your head was still pounding as you were trying to process what was happening, there wasn't enough air in the world for your lungs to pull in.

You deepened the kiss when Eddie's hands slowly cupped your cheeks, parting your lips as his tongue explored yours, shuddering at his touch.

Your brain didn't process any of it, not until the initial shock wore off, that's when you pulled back slightly, catching your breath as you blinked confusedly at him, unable to find the words to speak.

Eddie licked his lips as they twitched to form a smile, speaking up before you could. “In the closet.. when. I said I didn’t wanna kiss you like that... I meant that I wanted something like this..”  He gave you a slight chuckle as you returned it with a warm smile.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted." He gulped, feeling guilty for his actions in the past weeks, but he always poorly reacted to things that involved his feelings.

"I thought if I just stayed away from you, if I just pushed you away for a while, I could bottle up my feelings for you and—"

"You have feelings for me?" You asked, interrupting, eyes widening despite the kiss being undeniable proof of that but you still couldn't believe it, you still couldn't believe that the man you had been in love with was actually reciprocating the feelings you harbored, the feelings you tried so hard to contain inside of you.

"Are you kidding? Of course, I do." Eddie affirmed. "I mean how could I not?" He chuckled, pointing towards you. "Jesus, you're so beautiful, so fucking pretty..." he flashed you a mischievous smile.

"You're nice, and god, so fucking kind that it makes me sick sometimes. And shit— you get along with Wayne so well, I think he thinks of you more as his kid than me at this point." You gave him a light chuckle.

"Also... you are funny sometimes too." He added, giving you a light nudge with his shoulder as you pointed towards yourself mouthing 'Little old me?' sarcastically, making him smile.

"Fuck— if it wasn't for you, I'd be so lost, sweetheart. I'm so glad you came into my life." Your heart warmed at his words, gaze softening as your lips twitched into a smile.

"And you're always fucking there for me... even when I don't deserve it." He nervously fiddled with his fingers, he didn't deserve someone as perfect as you.

"Like right now, even though I've been an asshole, avoiding you, and even more of an asshole in the closet, you still came after me." He looked down, embarrassed that he had pushed you away, he knew you deserved better, so much better.

"You didn't deserve any of it, you just deserve every fucking good thing there is, and I'm just none of those things." You shook your head, opening your mouth to speak but Eddie didn't let you.

"Can you even picture it? You and me together? You— god, you are so fucking perfect." Your heart pounded against your chest, the rhythm of it erratic and suffocating because of his painful words, if only he knew how much you loved him.

"I'm just me, Eddie. I'm fucked up, a 'freak', a fucking drug dealer." Deep lines etched his forehead, he chuckled bitterly, and your heart throbbed at him describing himself as anything but good.

"I guess I just decided I wasn't good enough for you. Fuck— I chickened out." He eyed you nervously, and what he didn't expect was you slapping him on the shoulder, harshly.

"Ow!" He yelped, "Eddie never, ever make decisions on my part ever again." You chided him and he nodded quickly, "Jesus, that hurt."

"Good, because I also don't allow you to speak that way about yourself either, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me Eddie and I mean it. You're not fucked up." You affirmed him.

"God, you really are the best thing that has ever happened to me, Eddie. I don't think I've ever been happier, or more comfortable with anyone but you, you helped me realize so much about myself and have been there with me through everything." You didn't blink once, and Eddie's mouth was agape, he couldn't believe that someone —and not just anyone, you— saw him as anything more than a fuck up.

"I love you, Eddie, and I mean it, I love you so fucking much." You added, your eyes glimmering. "I can't stop thinking about you, ever... and it physically hurt being away from you for just one fucking week."

"I'm sorry for that..." He muttered again, embarrassed. "I love you so fucking much, honey. And I promise I'll never do something as dumb as this again." He gave you a warm smile, and his fingertips were gentle as they grazed over your cheeks.

You tilted your head in hesitation, "Yeah, I doubt it." You giggled, and Eddie squished your cheeks in response.

"God, you're so lucky that you're so pretty and so lucky that I fucked up big time because I will agree with you on whatever you say for the next few days." Eddie's lips formed a smirk and you raised a brow, "I'm thinking for the next month." You pursed your lips sarcastically.

Eddie chuckled and leaned in once again to kiss you, "Whatever my pretty girl wants." He murmured into your lips.

You whimpered again when your lips touched, both of you groaned when you were interrupted by Nancy's voice.

"See, I told you it would work!" Nancy pointed towards to two of you kissing as Robin and Steve almost gasped.

Robin turned to Nancy crossing her arms against her chest all-knowingly, "Yeah but it wasn't working a minute ago when they were yelling at each oth-" Robin's words were cut short by the glare Eddie and you threw at Robin.

"Sorry!" She yelled out, giving a sheepish smile, making you laugh.

"So, this was all you?" You asked, pointing towards Nancy, but before she could answer Robin scoffed.

"As if I didn't put your stubborn asses in that closet!" She mocked. The puzzle pieces of Robin acting weird all night coming to you and Eddie at the same time.

"You guys are all idiots." Eddie huffed, but his smile never faltered, and the three of them knew that was his way of gratitude.

You turned towards them with a sheepish smile on your face mouthing a 'thank you' to Robin and Nancy, and giving Steve a thumbs up, they waved you off as if to say 'No problem', and you turned to Eddie again.

"Eventful night, huh?" He asked, a smirk playing on his lips, and you gave him a playful nudge. "Shut up."

"So... you ready to go home?" Eddie asked as he threw an arm around your shoulder, you nodded, melting into his comfortable hold.

"Mhmm." You hummed, as he pressed a kiss on your hair. "I love you, pretty girl." He murmured.

[slutforleeminho]

Finding you again • Bangchan

(angst, comfort)

"Why?" You screamed at the top of your lungs; the neighbors were probably filling a noise complaint at this very moment. "Tell. Me. Why."

Is this what couples do? Go to sleep feeling alone and cold because there is no one beside them to keep them warm? Eat their meals in silence, on the rare occasion you even ate together? Scream at each other until there's no more breath in their lungs? Pick a fight as soon as the person they're in love with walks through the door, barely having enough time to take their shoes off? Because that's what yours and Chans relationship is like.

"I'm really not in the mood for this right now, y/n. I'm tired and I haven't eaten or slept in the past twenty-four hours. I don't even know what you want from me. I bust my ass to make sure you have a roof over your head and food to eat and you treat me like this." He looked perfectly fine to you though, refreshed even.

"I treat you like this?" Your blood was boiling. " You treat me as if I don't even exist. You stay gone all day and night and when you do come home you barely even acknowledge my presence. It's like your annoyed I'm even here half the time." Tears pricked the back of your eyes, but you refused to cry right now.

"Because you always have something to nag about. I'm always working too much or I didn't do the dishes or take the trash out. It's always something with you, I can never just rest when I'm here. That's why I'm always at the studio-"

"Oh, cut the shit Chan. We both know you're not always at the studio." You interrupted him.

"What are you talking about?" He was starting to get visibly irritated with this whole conversation, but you didn't care. you were done pretending like this didn't bother you.

"I know your cheating on me." It was your first time saying it out loud, and boy did it have a bitter taste.

Chans whole demeanor changed, his face fell, and his shoulders tensed. "What?"

"I'm not an idiot Chris, if you aren't getting it from me, you're getting it from someone else. I mean c'mon it's so fucking obvious, you're gone all the time, and you haven't touched me in months," This time a stray tear fell down your cheek, a result of having these emotions stored away for weeks. "If you don't want me anymore just say it, don't torture me like this, I can't take it, I care for you too much." And then it all came crashing down on you at once, the possibility that you might lose him, you might lose the beautiful life the two of you used to share. The late-night movie marathons, the times you'd cook dinner together, laughing at the way he was terrible at chopping vegetables. The walks on the beach where he'd pick you up and pretend to throw you in the water, getting a kick out of the way you'd hold on to him for dear life. The times when he kissed you before leaving for work, and made love to you when he returned, telling you how much he missed you while he was away. How much he loved you.

The next thing you knew you were sobbing into your hands, letting go of everything you kept hidden for so long.

Chan stood there, eyes glued to the floor, mouth agape. You were too busy crying your eyes out to notice the tears escaping past his eye lids too. "Do you really think I'd do that to you?" His voice broke halfway through his sentence.

"I don't know what to think anymore. I feel like I don't even know you." You whispered before finally wiping your tears away and raising your head to look at him. You were more than surprised to see his bottom lip quivering and his whole body shaking, in a silent cry. You didn't know how to react; you'd never seen him cry like this before. You wanted to lunge at him and hold him close, to take all his pain away and tell him everything would be okay, but he should be the one doing that for you, not the other way around.

"I'm so sorry," He sobbed. " I have no excuse to be so distant like this, but I'd never cheat on you. Like it or not, you're the only person in this world for me, and now knowing that you thought that was the reason I haven't been here hurts like hell, but I don't blame you, I don't even know why I've been like this, it's like I'm on autopilot, working until I fall asleep and do it all again the next day.

"Why didn't you just tell me that? Anything would have been better than the silence."

"I don't know, baby." A broken cry leaving his lips, but the pet name warmed your heart, and you couldn't help yourself any longer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you than he has been in weeks. He immediately responded, hugging your torso and burying his face into your neck. If you had known he was feeling this way you wouldn't have sprung this whole thing on him the way that you did. "I just feel so numb, so I did the only thing I know how to do." Which was make music. Because that's what he did, poured every ounce of his emotions into the beats that he sewed together to make something beautiful. "I don't know what's wrong with me." You held him as he cried and explained how tired and confused he was as to why he couldn't feel anything. He had drained every last drop of himself into his work, that's why. He always put the members and fans first, inconveniencing himself every time someone asked him of something, picking up the other members and staffs slack just so they could meet their deadlines. He doesn't know how to pace himself; he goes, and goes, and goes until his body and his mind can't take it anymore. he can't feel anything because he's felt enough. He has nothing left to give.

"Shh, baby, it's okay. everything's going to be okay."

~

And so, for the next few months he was going to work on himself and rest, to regain what he once had. After that night you made him take a few days off from work so he could rest, in which he used the time to make up to you by making love to you several times a day. He set up a steady schedule for work, making sure he didn't stay any longer than nine to ten hours a day and taking the weekends off. He even stopped doing the things that the managers and staff were supposed to do, which resulted in them falling behind on many things, and made for a hectic couple of weeks. But in the long run people started to realize that Chris wasn't letting them use him as he was before, so they pulled their shit together and finally did their jobs correctly. This was the first time you've seen him so happy and comfortable in his own skin, and you hoped that it'd never end.

taglist: @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs @katsukis wife @seung-mine @sungprotector @favieeerrrr @soephiphanymain @z4ir3 @minnieslover

[literaila]

untrustworthy 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: 

"are you mad at me?"

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?"

warnings: angst, alludes to depression, lost of interest, pushing people away, this is a pining fic because they’re not actually together, angst, fluff at the end, peter sucks but he’s also great? 

a/n: i haven’t written anything in weeks and this is so terrible but take it or leave it. i am. 

*

if you've learned anything in the past year, it's that you couldn't trust peter parker. 

you couldn't trust him to finish his portion of your shared slideshow for your physics class. and you shouldn't have trusted him to tell you if he couldn't get it done before the due date--sparing you both from the wide-eyed, slightly over-amused gazes of classmates who thought peter's "the end" slide was purely a comedic stroke, and not just laziness, or a miserable attempt to pretend he hadn't cost you thirty percent of your grade. 

and even after, you couldn't trust him not to give you a look--his signature look--sending you plummeting towards forgiveness before he'd even gotten the chance to apologize. 

you couldn't trust peter parker to pick up a mutual friend's birthday cake or get himself home safely without cracking his glasses, or not to eat all of the cookies that may made for you on his way to your apartment. you wouldn't trust him to wash your dishes or sleep on your couch without burning the entire building down. 

it was a dangerous thing, you'd realized, about three months after you'd met him, to try and count on him. 

peter parker would borrow a pen from you, flicking his hair your way and smiling that charming smile, and then proceed to give it back to you at your thirty-year reunion. or never. 

you'd learned not to expect him to show up for anything on time, ask him to pick anything up for you, or let him do laundry in your apartment. 

peter parker was anything but dependable. and if you could give the past version of yourself any advice, it would be not to trust him. 

not to let that foolish hope exist before it was crumbled between strong hands like a grocery receipt, never to be seen again. 

you wouldn't let that faded, reliable version of peter exist. 

you couldn't trust peter parker to do anything or make any promise he would actually keep. 

you couldn't even trust him to stay away from you when you wanted space the most; like now. 

because as soon as you heard that knock on your door, a bitter part of you was scowling at the intrusion, cursing your friend for bothering to exist or always showing up when you didn't want him to. 

and you knew that just like every other thing peter did, he wouldn't take no for an answer. even if you didn't answer the door. even if you threw your phone down into the garbage disposal. 

you were pretty sure peter could pick a lock. and also slightly suspicious that he'd had a copy of your key made behind your back. 

so when peter walks into your living room, hair dripping from the rain, arms full of grocery bags, you aren't surprised. 

you barely even blink at him before returning your attention to your tv, where a couple was viciously debating the cost of crown molding. 

his presence is its own curse because you can feel every movement he makes, just like always. 

"hey," peter says, smiling evilly. he ignores your ignoring. doesn't even mind the fact that you haven't looked at him. "i brought you some stuff." 

he kicks his shoes off--into your living room, of course, mud sticking to your carpet--and heads to the kitchen. 

"just some basics," he continues, not bothering to listen to any reply, verbal or not. "bread, eggs, milk. i got you some disgusting orange jello and a couple of those pre-made sandwiches they make at the deli. they're a bit... flat, but they should be okay still." 

you turn the volume up. 

peter doesn't mind. "there's also some protein bars in there--chocolate--just in case you want something quick," he walks back into the room, holding a glass bottle. "and i saw this banana-flavored soda when i was walking out, for us to try and throw up together." 

he shakes the bottle around, smile on his idiotic face, not even bothering to think about the harsh reality of carbonation. 

"open that over the sink," you mumble to him, still not meeting his eyes. 

you curse your weak willpower for ruining your silent game. and peter, for knowing that he would win eventually. 

peter tilts his head, tsking at you. "not even a thank you for your very thoughtful, handsome--" he plops down next to you, moving your legs so that he can tickle your feet. "and genius best friend?" 

"thanks, peter." 

instead of looking over at the man who was definitely trying to get you to yell at him, you choose to watch the ceiling on the tv crumble over brand-new hardwood. 

you frown. 

peter runs his hand up your calf, goosebumps riding his wake. "are you mad at me?" 

"did you get me bologna sandwiches?" 

"no, turkey." 

"then no." 

peter removes his hand. "what's wrong with the bologna?" 

"they put rat poison in it." 

peter pokes your thigh. "and you've been letting me eat it? you know i love those sandwiches."

you turn even further on your side, wall going up between the two of you, forcing his hand off, mumbling, "wanted to test a theory." 

"what theory?" 

finally, your eyes meet his--stupid brown, caring, auburn, and hateful eyes. "if rat poison would kill you or not." 

peter scoffs.  

you let your lip quirk up, irritated at his perfect mouth and thoughtful grocery list, and warm hands climbing up your stomach, and then look away. back to the house infested with termites. if there's anything to hate, it's adoration. the ridiculous attachment you have to him, even now.

"are you calling me a vermin?" 

you roll your eyes. "well, you're not dead so..." 

and it was all normal. peter sitting this close and trying to mold himself into your skin, the puppy eyes he was trying to give you, and his devious smirk. his teasing and lack of common sense, his stupid jokes, and stupid thoughtfulness, ruining the silent treatment you'd meant to give him. the space you'd been forcing between the two of you.

it was all normal, but you can feel him lurking, waiting for a moment to say something. you can feel him staring at you. 

"what?" you say, sharp and rough, after thirty seconds of it being too much. of peter being too close and too quiet.

his presence is a burden on your heart. 

peter's hands began to massage your legs, forcing you to let him in closer than you want him to be. "what, what?" he repeats. 

your eyes meet his with defenses already prepared. "what are you doing here, peter?"

the words are weapons. one punch to the jaw and a knife shoved into his back. 

you're trying to get him off of you, get him out that door and back into the world where he belongs so that you could stay here and rot, just like you want to.

but peter's eyes stay soft, his hands are kind and his intent is obvious. he isn't trying to fight with you.

he blows out a breath. "what're you doing here?"

you both stare at each other for a moment and then you look away, shaking your head. "i live here." 

"you know that's not what i mean." 

"do i?" you ask, voice sarcastic and mean. and it would be fine--usually. you and peter are mean to each other for sport. 

but he wasn't being anything but easy. careful as he stretched your muscles out like he could tell that you hadn't used them in days. 

trust peter to break your only rule. 

it was silent again; only the sounds of commercials in the background, a woman swearing that aleve changed her life. 

peter clears his throat. "why haven't you been answering my calls?" 

"lost my phone." 

"and class?" 

"i've been sick." 

"you missed an exam," he pushes. "you're gonna have to make it up." 

"already emailed connaly." 

"good." peter swallows, and you can feel his pounding, his questions even when he's not asking them. 

you want to push him off of the couch. you want to push him off of you, leave bruises from the fall, and tell him to find someone who can be his friend. who can do this. 

you want to be understanding, and as careful as he is. you love him enough to not scream, even if you want to.

"peter, i really just want to be alone, so--" 

"when's the last time you ate?" 

you sigh, pulling away from him. 

but peter has a firm hold on your legs, and even if you tried, you couldn't kick him away. 

"when was the last time you showered?" 

"i've been sick, peter, it doesn't--" 

"left the house?" he prods. "or moved from the couch? when was the last time you looked in the mirror?" 

you sit up, looking at him without meeting his eyes. "you should go. i could still be contagious." the words are tense, your face is stone, unmoving, and unwilling to do any of this with him. 

peter moves closer to you, his hands lingering just inches away from your marble face. "what's going on?" he asks, so softly that you can barely feel it on your plastered skin.

his concern and care, his stupid face and stupid eyes and-- 

"i can't do this, peter." 

"you need to talk to me," he says, without even processing what you've said. "you need to tell me what's happening because it's been almost two weeks since i've seen you, and this..." he gestures around the room. 

a place that used to be your home. 

"what happened?" 

and if anyone could get it out of you--pull the secrets you have hidden in your chest, ignoring your screams of pain--it would be peter. he would be the person that you talked to. 

that is if you wanted to talk at all. 

if you wanted to move from his couch and look into his eyes like you had been for months before this. like he was more than a classmate, or friend who had stuck to you. like he was someone who you wanted to care about. 

someone with perfect lips and wonderful eyes and an addicting laugh. 

someone who you might want to tell more, share more. 

the person that you'd been a month ago would've told peter. even unsure if he could keep that secret or stay with you, you would've told him. trusted him that much. more than he deserved. 

but the person sitting on your couch staring into those same eyes doesn't want anything. 

to move or breathe or have to tell peter that you just don't care anymore. 

that whatever you have to tell him is gone, that your words and voice have been ripped from your chest, that this couch, this distance you've been trying to build is the only remedy to fix the hole that remains. 

but you don't want to see him. you don't want to tell him anything. you don't want to breathe his air and risk infecting him. 

"nothing, peter. i'm fine." 

"you look like you've spent the last month in the hospital." 

"well, you look like a goddamn swimsuit model, so i guess we're even." 

you're watching as his serious face shifts, and you can see it as he fights back a laugh, his eyes just barely flickering. 

and you wish that you didn't care. you wish so badly that it didn't matter. you look away, thinking to pretend that none of this exists. 

you've had enough nightmares like this lately. 

"hey," peter says, one fingertip turning your eyes back to his. and you know it's not a dream, because your imagination can never get those eyes just right. "i'm here to listen. whatever it is. we'll work it out. i just need you to talk to me."

"i told you, there's nothing--" 

"and you've got to stop lying to me like i can't tell." 

you scowl. 

peter's eyebrows lift, a fraction of affection appearing on his face. "c'mon, just tell me. i won't laugh." 

you look down, at his hand resting on your thigh, and the hole you've burned into the couch. 

you don't want to look at his eyes anymore. you're tired of trying to look away. and not talking to him. 

you sigh. "nothing, peter. just..." you blink, but it's not enough to push his regard off of you. to rid yourself of the toxins he's breathed into you. 

you were almost immune to them, just a few weeks ago. mithridatism only works if it's consistent. 

and his eyes are more dangerous when you haven't seen them. 

you freeze. "there's nothing," you repeat, defenses falling, hands going to push him away from your face. 

and peter knows what's going to happen before you do. "hey," he says, already soothing. "whatever it is..." 

and peter grabs you before you fall. he catches that first tear, and it's his forever. his arms fold around your shoulder, his strong hands keeping your head up. 

"there's nothing. it's all gone. everything i want, everything i--" 

his hands are tilting your face up to his but you can't look at him. you can't look into his perfect eyes and feel ashamed of yourself anymore. 

you're sick and tired of feeling sorry for yourself. 

"i can't feel anything, peter. i don't want to do anything but sit here and hope that eventually, this feeling goes away. that it all just..." you shake your head, feeling him invade you. 

and then you lean in and let peter hold you up. 

you hadn't even realized that you were crying. hadn't realized how far down you'd pushed the words until they were bubbling up. 

bile crawling up your throat. 

"i'm sorry," you whisper to him, just before he crushes you into a hug, your head buried into his neck. your tears staining his perfect skin. "i'm so sorry." 

peter shakes his head against you, holding you even closer. 

and you can't breathe with how tight he's holding you, but this sort of breathlessness is welcome. much better than the other kind. 

you laugh against him, feeling how sore your body is. how angry you are with yourself. 

"i've got you," peter whispers, into your hair, kissing your forehead. "we'll figure it out." 

you shake your head but say nothing. 

you finally breathe him in, desperate after denying yourself for so long. you don't have to worry about anything as long as peter is right there. 

"god," he says, after a few minutes pass. "i'm sorry i didn't come sooner. i thought..." 

thought you were okay, you can hear. thought that you needed space, that time was a perfect solution. 

"not your fault," you mumble into him. 

peter leans back, just so that you'll look up at him. "why didn't you tell me? you know i would've come," he says, "if you'd just called." 

"i didn't want--" you swallow, looking away. "i didn't want you to know. or see." 

peter scowls. "what did you think would happen? i would leave? or tell you to get over yourself?" 

"maybe."

"are you insane?" 

"maybe." 

peter doesn't even laugh. he makes you look at him again, not knowing how cruel those eyes of his are. "i would've stayed," he tells you, "no matter what. even if you told me that you murdered someone. or run over a squirrel with your bike. i would've been there. i'm going to be there." 

his jaw is tense and his eyes are so serious, but you sniffle, shaking your head. "even if i murdered a squirrel?" 

"i mean... it would be hard. but i'd do it." 

you laugh. 

he swallows, shaking his head. "you need to tell me what's going on, okay? instead of ghosting me for two weeks, acting like you died or something." 

"i answered a couple of your texts." 

peter glares at you. 

"okay. i'm sorry." 

he shakes his head again, almost smiling, if a little bit sad. "are you okay?" 

you fall back into him, suffocating yourself into his shoulder. you don't want to answer that, and hope that peter doesn't push. 

for once, he does what you want, wrapping his arm back around you, pulling you in closer. 

"okay," he says, and breathes with you. 

you sit with him for a few seconds, glad that he's there, and then you ask, "how'd you get in?" voice muffled by his shirt. 

"it was unlocked, you idiot." 

you frown, looking up at him. 

peter laughs. 

"no, it wasn't." 

his eyes return to normal, deviance stuck in his expression. "i used my key," he answers, innocently. 

trust peter to ruin the moment.

*

my masterlist here.

tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl    invisibletrolleyson-jeremy  @sharkswaters  @rowniebow @anaislfbv @take-my-hand-time-boy @mileyc111 @starsval @ratsys

[tw1l1te]

𝓼𝓪𝔂 𝓶𝔂 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮

Yandere! Linked Universe x Reader

Warnings: Dark themes, and I mean dark, suggestive, angst, more angst, kidnapping, mentions of death, dark religious themes

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You'd lost track of how many days, weeks, months years have passed since you'd been contained in this hell. You'd lost track of who you last talked to. You'd lost all sense of what happened, and where everything went wrong.

One of the clearest memories you have is how it happened.

How it started it already began long before.

Just hours after defeating the shadow, you were making plans to leave. To go back home after almost three years. You knew the subject was touchy and created a tense air to the group, but it was unavoidable now. It was time to go.

You look back at the portal, blue and gold wisps illuminating the surrounding area. Why wasn't anybody reacting to it, if at all?

If they pretended it didn't exist, you wouldn't leave them.

Enough was enough. You've waited too long for this, worked too hard. You didn't belong here.

Picking up your pack, you look at the rift once more. The pulsating sensation beckoning you closer.

Leave. Go home. Leave them. Go now, before it's too late. Now now nownownow gonowgonowGONOwLEAVEBEFOREITISTOOLATE-

A hand wraps around your wrist, hot fire against your ice cold bones.

"Stay. Please."

Twilight looks defeated. On the brink of utter collapse, eyes on the brink of tears.

"If only there was another way, Twilight. If only. I'm sorry, it's time."

"I love you, darlin'. I love you so much. Please don't leave m-us. Not again. I can't- won't. Not again."

You weren't her. No, you weren't Midna. You wouldn't leavEhiMheRE

He was on his knees, eyes never wavering off of yours. He was praying. Praying a mantra to your entity. His goddess. His divinity.

You feel another set of hands on your hips, melding perfectly against your form. Prophetical puzzle pieces locking together.

Legend was already crying, salty tears wettening your tunic. His hands were coated with blood. Not his.

"Y/n I- please, Mousey. Please please. Not again. I can't do this without you. Let us come with you. We'll do anything."

His hands. His hands were on your face, sticky blood tarnishing your perfect face. A face that held eras. His and his brothers', embedded in your very soul.

"I'm sorry- I can't. You know I'd bring you with me if I could, but it's time. I don't belong here. You know I don't, you said it yourself oh so long ago."

"That was- I was different. So so much has happened, so much."

The earth started to shake, ramping up in mere seconds.

The rock started to crack, larger and larger chasms forming, decreasing your chances of getting out of here.

It was now or never.

You look back at them, mouthing 'I'm sorry', and run.

Run and don't look back.

Run before you change your mind again.

Run before you miss your chance. Forever.

Your fingers graze the golden light, a sensation unlike you've ever felt before.

A force knocks you out cold, the last thing you see is that damned golden light.

~

You woke up almost a week later, eyes barely being able to open from how long they've been shut.

You remember the blood-curling scream you let out, vocal cords tearing at your anguish.

You remember Wild and Hyrule running in, holding you in place to not harm yourself even more.

You remember sobbing for hours that night, all of them staring at you.

You remember how nauseous and mortified you were when Time bathed you, combing through your locks and looming over you, cooing at you like you were some lost lamb.

You remember how disappointed Wars looked when he found you with your locks strewn around you on the floor, hoping that you wouldn't be pretty anymore in their eyes if you messed yourself up. It made you more stunning.

You remember sitting in the corner of the room, curling in on yourself while you hummed a lullaby, trying to ignore the looming eyes of the chosen hero in the other corner of the room.

They don't let you out past the fence, past it leads into the forest.

You stopped talking to any of them months ago, vocal cords mostly damaged from your screams.

You feel slightly safer with Wind around, knowing they would stay away if he was with you, trusting him to be their eyes for when they weren't home. This wasn't his fault, he was only a kid. Not knowing any better because his brothers told him this was right.

You promised him and yourself that'd you would both get out someday. You both knew he could come and go as he pleased, but he morally couldn't. You reminded him of Aryll, though that personality had long been lost.

You were in your bed, drawing in a notebook that Wind had brought you. It was blue, engraved with small violet flowers. You picked up drawing a few months ago, the distraction keeping you slightly sane. You didn't know what you were drawing, but it felt nostalgic. Safe. Home.

The door opens, Time walking into the room and pulling a chair from the far corner to sit in front of you.

You choose to ignore him, focusing very hard on the drawing at hand.

"You haven't talked much lately, Flower."

You wince at the petname, the syllables off his tongue making you disgusted. He has no right calling you that.

He keeps looking at you, elbows on his knees as he examines you, like some art on a wall. You can look, but you can't touch.

"I miss your voice, baby. I miss you saying my name."

You stop drawing on the paper, but still not looking at him. You refuse.

He crawls up to you, on his hands and knees, praying to his goddess for forgiveness of his sins

"My moonlight... please. Please say my name. That's all I will ever ask of you."

You look at him, noticing how tired and destroyed he looks.

Serves him right.

You close your notebook, lacing it back up with the leather cord. Setting it aside, you look back at him.

You vocal cords scream as you open your mouth, so in pain from the strain.

With gravely words and no emotion to give, you rasp

"Rot in hell."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (part eight)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, azzie sulking about (lmao), none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: okay, guys, first things first, I'm so sorry for the delay in this part. I just couldn't get to writing it and for the past few days I have had a lot of work to do. And, the part everyone's been waiting for is here. The slap is here. 😌

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

It had been a week since Y/n had walked away from Azriel and left him alone on that balcony. Everything had gone back to the way it was before, with him doing his best to ignore her and her doing the same. The only difference was, he cared for her now, and she could see it in anything he did.

Filling her glass of water or filling her cup of tea at meal times. Not pretending that she didn't exist. Helping her and instructing her when training with other priestesses. So that was... progress?

As she stepped through the door to the training area, her eyes immediately started searching for her husband without her permission. But he wasn't in his usual spot in the corner of the ring. No, he was in the middle of the ring, sparring with Cassian.

And he was shirtless.

It wasn't as if she had never seen someone shirtless. Having a brother and living in a camp, it was an everyday occurrence.

But seeing Azriel was different. The way his muscles flexed as he spun and attacked Cassian, the way sweat dripped down them. It gave her butterflies.

"Not hard on the eye, don't you think?" Nesta murmured, startling Y/n. "Or are you too busy drooling over him to form coherent thoughts?"

"Shut up." Y/n mumbled. That was when she noticed that there were no priestesses, including Gwyn. "Where are the others?"

"They had some ceremony today. And Emerie had important business in her camp. It's just the four of us today."

Y/n nodded, then realised that would mean that she would have all of Azriel's attention on her. Her mouth dried.

Nesta and she started with some warmup exercises while the Illyrians finished off their sparring. When they were done, Cassian sent her a cheeky grin and a wink as she walked to Azriel. Y/n shook her head, exasperated.

Azriel was waiting for her when she neared him. And when he looked up, she knew today was going to be one hell of a day.

•○🌑○•

Y/n panted, crouching for a moment. She had discarded the upper jacket that she had worn that morning on a nearby bench. She was sure if she squeezed all the sweat from her body, it would rival the water of the Sidra.

Azriel had shown her absolutely no mercy today, with all his undivided attention upon her.

"Tired already?" Azriel asked, sweat dripping down his forehead.

Y/n gaped. "What do you mean already tired? It's been hours since we started. Atleast 5 hours, if you ask me."

He raised a brow. "Actually, its barely been over an hour."

"Excuse me? You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"Hey Y/n!" Nesta called before she could answer. Y/n turned to her and Cassian. "I have some work to do in the library and Cassian has a meeting with Rhys. We're leaving. Is that okay with you? You can come with me if you want."

Y/n shook her head. "You go. I'll go and get some rest after this."

Nesta nodded, waving to her and exiting the training area with Cassian on her heels, wiggling his brows at Y/n. She tried to scowl at him, but couldn't. He was just too adorable.

Azriel was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. He brushed a stand of hair back from her face, his hand lingering on her cheek. She felt butterflies erupt in her stomach.

But then he went rigid, a muscle feathering in his jaw. She noticed his shadows thickening around him, hiding him from view.

And then her eyes flitted to the arch that led into the training area, where the middle Archeron sister had appeared. She smiled in that perfect manner of hers when Azriel glanced at her.

"Azriel." Her said in her lilting and melodic voice. "Its been weeks since we talked. Where have you been?"

He studied her for a minute before turning back to Y/n. "I've been busy."

A flash of hurt crossed Elain's features before she smiled again. She placed a hand on his shoulder and Y/n looked away.

"I think I'm done with training today. Have a good day." Y/n said, making a beeline for the arch, ignoring the sound of protest azriel made behind her.

She raced down the steps, heart beating wildly. But then she remembered that she had left her jacket back on the bench near where she was training. She felt weirdly naked without it.

Cursing herself, she turned back, practically flying up the stairs, praying and hoping she wouldn't find them doing something she couldn't handle.

But, as said before, her life never went as she wanted it to.

When she emerged in the training area, she found the middle Archeron sister standing in the exact same spot Y/n had been in a few moments prior. And they were kissing. Elain was all over Azriel, his hands holding her waist.

An involuntary gasp escaped Y/n, and it must have been loud as Azriel pulled back and turned to her. He paled.

"Y/n–" She ignored him, walking straight to the jacket lying near him and donning it. When she turned to leave, he tried to get her attention again, to no avail. And so he caught her wrist.

Before she knew what she was doing, she whipped around and her hand flew up. She only realised what she had done when her palm started stinging and Azriel stumbled back, landing on the bench where her jacket had been.

He stared at her with wide eyes, his mouth gaping like a fish.

She had slapped him.

It was completely unexpected. She didn't mean to slap him. She wanted to apologise, but she stopped herself.

"Don't play with my life Azriel. One moment, you look like you actually want me, the next, you turn around and kiss her. This is not a game, Shadowsinger."

"Y/n– I swear it is not what it looks like. I can explain. I–"

But Y/n couldn't stand to be in his presence anymore, so she left.

•○🌑○•

Night descended swiftly on Velaris, and Y/n found herself sitting next to Nesta while eating dinner. She hadn't told Nesta about what she'd witnessed yet. She didn't have the energy.

Azriel was nowhere to be seen. And, even though Y/n was happy about it, she couldn't help but wonder where he was.

After dinner, as she was about to step into her room, a shadow darted in front of her face, making her stop in her tracks. It looked frantic as it flew around Y/n before flying towards the general direction of where the training area was supposed to be.

Her brow furrowed. It looked like the shadow wanted her to follow. And so despite the fatigue weighing her down, she followed it.

It took her straight to the stairwell that led to the training area and up it. She slowed down when she heard voices coming from beyond the arch.

"How many times do I have to tell you I don't want anything to do with you!" That was Azriel.

"Az–" Y/n froze. That was Elain.

"No Elain. I am married. And I want to have a relationship with my wife. Why can't you understand–"

"You didn't want her–"

"Now I do! I want her."

"What does she have that I don't?"

"It's not about being better than the other. She is my wife, and I want to get to know her."

"But she doesn't like you."

"Yeah well, she might have started to like me if you hadn't kissed me this morning. We might have had a chance at ahappy life, and now you've ruined it. She will never want me again, all thanks to you. Are you happy now?"

"Then tell me you didn't want me to kiss you."

Y/n peeked around the arch to see them standing near a practice dummy. He was shirtless and gaping at her. "Me telling you to not kiss me was not enough? Me trying to step away, push you away when you kissed me was not enough? Fine. Listen closely Elain, because I will not repeat it again. I. Do. Not. Want. You. And nor did I want you to kiss me. I did not enjoy it."

Elain stared at him for a moment before turning and marching straight towards the arch. She looked furious. When she got closer, she realised Y/n was standing in the arch. Elain sneered at her, bumping her shoulder harshly on the way out.

Y/n watched her go with her mind spinning.

Azriel had been forcibly kissed by Elain. He hadn't wanted it, despite what she had believed.

A thump sounded from below, and Y/n looked down to find a first aid box her her feet. She frowned, but then that little shadow came to hover around her face before darting to Azriel.

That was when she saw that Azriel was sitting down on a bench, his head in his hands. There was a small puddle of dark liquid beneath his feet, some of it dripping down his hands.

With a jolt of horror, Y/n realised it was his blood. Drops of it led to the training dummy, and she summarised that he had been punching the dummy for so long that his hands started bleeding.

She picked the box by her feet, walking to where he sat. He looked up when she came near, his eyes widening slightly. He said nothing as she kneeled in front of him, opening the box and setting it next to her. He watched her as she took his hands and examined them, starting to work on him.

She knew how to patch wounds up, from the most tiniest to fatal wounds. She was the one that mostly patched her brother up.

She worked in complete silence the whole time, except for when azriel had hissed in pain when she was applying a gel into his wounds.

When she was done, she surveyed his hands. Then she finally glanced up.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slapped you." She mumbled quietly.

He smiled faintly. "I deserved it." He said back, equally quiet.

"That you did." She nodded. A surprised laugh left him, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulder.

They didn't say anything for a long time before she gathered all the supplies and the box vanished. As she stood up to return to her room, she paused.

She wanted this to work, she knew that. And she knew that he wanted th same thing. So, mustering all the courage she had, she glanced back at him. He hadn't moved, staring at her.

"I hope the offer to take a tour of Velaris still holds?" It was a peace offering. She knew they needed to sit and have a long chat about everything, but for now, neither of them were ready for a heart to heart. They might have been friends before, but they didn't know each other now. They needed to understand what the other had become in the last five centuries to understand each other.

His brows furrowed. "What..." But then he perked up, his eyes lit up with precious hope. "The offer still stands."

"Thank the cauldron." She smiled. "Tomorrow?"

"Whenever you say."

"You've lived here. What do you suggest?"

"Morning is a good time, though its prettier in the night." He searched her eyes.

"Well... I guess we have no option but to spend the whole day in the city, don't you think?" A bright, beautiful grin spread on his face as he nodded eagerly. "Be ready after breakfast then, Shadowsinger."

As she walked down the steps, she could hear faint cheers coming from behind her, and she smiled.

A little of the weight she seemed to carry around everywhere lessened.

And she knew this was the right choice.

•○🌑○•

Part 9

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo

[libraryofgage]

Harlequin Prince (2)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually

Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three | Four Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two | Three Harley Quinn One | Two (you're here!) 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) One Queen ClarisseRenaldi One | Two

This part was line-jumped on Ko-Fi, which means y'all got it sooner than I originally planned!

If you want to line jump your favorite series, you can learn more here

Ironically, even tho the post says about a week of turn around, I get so excited that somebody wants to line jump that I just write it immediately lmao

Steve finally gets a good fight in this one, but it ends way too soon the poor boy. Either way, he also gets to meet some of the party!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

-------

Steve knew his dad wasn't in the picture, but he never knew why. He never asked, but he started to get this horrible feeling after a while. Harley Quinn's past was well known to Steve, her previous...associate and her relationship with him isn't exactly a secret, no matter how much his mother tried to keep them from him. She couldn't protect him at school, and she couldn't protect him from hearing people talking on the streets.

So, yeah, from the age of nine, Steve walked around with this horrendous knowledge in his gut, a knowledge that he wanted to think was just him being paranoid. But it wasn't. He knew it wasn't. He just couldn't admit that to himself, and he couldn't ask his mother because he didn't want to send her down that particular lane of memories. So it festered, and Steve pretended it didn't exist at all.

Until, that is, his 13th birthday. It was held at Uncle Bruce's mansion because his mother wanted to go all out. It was as much a celebration for her (a full three years without getting sent to Arkham!) as it was for him (managing to stay alive for 13 years in Gotham with Harley Quinn for a mother). Steve hadn't minded, either, especially when he saw the absolute joy she had when picking out the hugest bounce-house she could find with Uncle Bruce's sleek black credit card.

The party was catered by Steve's favorite Indian restaurant, the guests were limited to immediate friends and family, the bounce-house was extra bouncy, and a table was practically buckling under the weight of the gifts piled on top of it. It was, by far, Steve's best birthday, surpassing even the one he spent in Arkham after letting Poison Ivy out of her cell.

"Hey, Dumplin'!" his mother shouted, waving at him from the top of the bounce house she'd managed to climb. When Steve looked at her, she grinned even brighter and jumped, launching off turrets and rolling down sloped walls before landing on her feet on the ground. "Let's get to them presents!"

Steve laughed, looked at the table eagerly, and nodded. Her grin somehow getting wider, Harley turned, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "GET YOUR ASSES IN GEAR, EVERYONE! STEVIE'S OPENIN' PRESENTS!"

Soon enough, Steve was standing in front of the table, surrounded by everyone, and not at all sure where to start with the mountain of presents. "You should open mine first," Jason said, grinning as he gestured to a bike-shaped package.

It was, in fact, a bike. A motorcycle, specifically, with a red and black helmet and the promise of lessons from Jason whenever he wanted. Steve loved it immediately and ignored Uncle Bruce muttering about driving laws and how Steve couldn't operate any motorized vehicle until he was fifteen. "Well," he said, "as long as I don't get caught by Batman, who's gonna know?"

That had earned him a laugh and his mother's hand ruffling his hair. "Go on, Dumplin', choose another."

Dick got him a literal outfit's worth of Wonder Woman merch, accessories included, that made Bruce look ready to pop a blood vessel. Tim gave him small tracking pins and a hacked handheld game console to watch the trackers with the promise of free upgrades anytime he wanted. Damien gave him daggers since he "wasn't good enough for real swords, but everyone should have a blade" on them, just in case. Cass, Steph, and Barbara pooled their skills together (and Alfred, they borrowed Alfred a lot) to make him an Unofficial Robin costume, complete with shorts only slightly less scandalous than Dick's original costume.

Bruce, when he finally stopped glaring at the three of them, gave Steve a fingerprint panic button shaped like a bat and easily attached to a key ring. "For emergencies, Steve," he said, "Just hold your thumb to it for three seconds."

"This is perfect for the next time we run out of ice cream," Steve said, grinning as he attached it to his key chain.

"Emergencies."

"Oh. So if we run out of mint chip, specifically. Got it."

Bruce merely sighed and let him return to opening gifts.

Alfred gave him a tin of homemade cookies that Steve immediately had to protect from the others. Poison Ivy gave him a Venus flytrap and the promise to help him grow it properly. Selina couldn't be there, but Bruce passed along her gift: a pair of goggles Bruce had handed over with a sigh and quiet request for him to use them responsibly.

Steve opened Duke's present last, eyes widening at the red leather jacket. "Wait, seriously?" he asked, holding it up as he looked at Duke.

"You're gonna be a troublemaker, Steve," Duke said. "Might as well make sure you're bulletproof for it."

Steve grinned wider and pulled on the jacket, swimming in the leather but eager to grow into it all the same.

There was nothing from his mother in the pile, but Steve figured the party itself was his present since she'd done all the planning. When she pulled him away to a secluded room in the manor after they'd all had cake, Steve realized it was just because she didn't want to share this moment with anyone.

She smiled at him, reaching up and gently tucking a few strands of hair behind Steve's ears. "You grew up so fast, Dumplin'," she said, sighing softly.

"Ivy says I'm like a weed."

"Ives is right," Harley said, nodding once before looking away. "Okay, ready for your present?"

"Wasn't the party my present?"

"No, no, Dumplin'. The party was for fun," she said, grinning as she reached behind her and pulled a comically-large mallet from seemingly nowhere. "This is your present."

Steve blinked, leaning over to look around Harley. "Where'd that even come from?" he asked.

"Jester Logic, Dumplin'. Don't worry about it. I'll teach you the trick later," she promised, holding the mallet out to Steve with an expectant expression.

When Steve took it, the weight threw him off. He frowned, shifted his grip, and suddenly had no problem holding it up. He took a closer look, noting the scratches and marks on the mallet and the faded paint. "This was yours," he said.

"Yeah, it was."

"I've never seen it before."

Harley sighed, tugging on one of her pigtails with a slight frown. "Yeah, well, I wasn't exactly a great person when I used it, Dumplin'. Tried to forget about that Harley and all," she explained.

"Then why give it to me?"

Harley looked back at Steve and smiled, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Cuz you're so much better than me," she said. "I think you'll do some great things, Dumplin', and maybe all the good you do will erase most of the bad this mallet's got."

Her words were so serious, her smile was so bittersweet, and she looked ready to cry and deny it. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to learning about her past straight from the source, a past he knew about it, a past that involved a certain person that haunts Steve's mind with terrifying potential. Suddenly, he had to know.

Steve didn't really think before blurting out, "Is the Joker my father?"

Harley froze, her shoulders tensing and her eyes widening as she stared at Steve. "You don't got a father, Dumplin'," she finally said, her voice quiet and her expression conflicted.

"Fine. Was he the sperm donor?"

With a sigh, Harley stepped closer and placed her hands on Steve's shoulders. "I won't lie," she said. "He is, but that don't mean a thing. His crazy ain't hereditary, Dumplin', and he's never gettin' anywhere near you."

"Does...does he know?" Steve whispered, "About me, I mean."

"It don't matter," Harley said, her voice firm and her eyes more serious than Steve had ever seen them. "I'll kill him before he gets near ya. Ives will kill him. Hell, Brucie wil---no, wait, he's got those pesky morals. Fine, Jason will kill him before he gets near ya. Actually, Jason'd kill him anyway, but the excuse will be good if Brucie scolds him for it."

Steve couldn't help laughing at that, feeling a little lighter when his mother smiled back at him. When his laughter trickled to nothing more than a smile, he asked, "Then, was I the reason you left?"

Harley nodded and gently tugged Steve into her arms, holding him to her and cradling the back of his head. "Yeah, you were," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "I was excited to tell 'im when I learned about you, but then I heard him talking to some goons. He was laughin' about running a kid over, breakin' their legs, and I realized...you wouldn't be special to him. You'd've been like his goons, all expendable and not even worth a glance. I couldn't put you through that, and I couldn't put me through it, either. So, I got us out the only way I knew how."

"By finding Uncle Bruce," Steve said.

He felt her nod. "By finding Brucie," she agreed. "He tried to deny bein' the Bat and all, but your mama ain't dumb, Dumplin'. I'd done my homework, and the butts matched. Once I explained it all, once I told him about you, he agreed to help."

Steve nodded, listening to his mother's heart beating against his ear. He glances down at the mallet again, tightens his grip, and takes a deep breath. "Thank you," he said, "for the gift and for telling me. I'll do good with it, I promise."

"That's my boy," Harley said, pulling back and ruffling his hair. "Now, lemme explain that Jester Logic to ya."

----------

Hawkins remains boring even after meeting Eddie. After all, Eddie's in high school (his second attempt at senior year, apparently), and Steve...isn't. He should be, probably, but there's no way he's stepping one foot in that suburban nightmare of a building. He can feel the normalcy, the utter boredom, oozing from the place, and he'd rather not subject himself to that.

So, he spends his day wandering around Hawkins, getting a feel for the little town until he could navigate the place blindfolded. He can do the same in Gotham, but it's more impressive there with the winding streets and sprawling sidewalks. Here, it's nothing special.

The most interesting part of his day is when he's sitting on the roof of a video store, one leg dangling over the edge with the other pulled to his chest so he can rest his arm on his knee. He's about halfway through a cigarette when a cop car pulls into the lot and a middle-aged man steps out.

He looks up at Steve, frowning as he calls up, "You shouldn't be there, son."

"I ain't your son," he calls back, grinning as he takes another drag and blows smoke out as the guy rests his hands on his belt. It reminds him so much of Gotham PD rookies trying to posture that Steve can't help laughing. "Is that supposed to intimidate me?"

"I'm serious, kid," the cop says, apparently ignoring Steve's question. "It's dangerous up there. If you don't come down, I'm gonna have to call the Fire Department to bring the ladder."

Steve sighs and puts his cigarette out on the roof. He gets up, stretches his arms above his head, and stands on the ledge of the roof. He grins at the cop, casually stepping into empty air and hearing the guy shout as he falls. He lands in a crouch on the awning over the door, swings to hang from it, and lands on his feet on the sidewalk.

It wasn't even much of a fall, but the cop looks like he's about to have a heart attack. Steve glances at the badge on his chest. "We done now, Officer Hopper?" he asks.

"Don't do that again," Hopper says, pointing a finger at Steve, "Or I will drag your ass to the station and call your parents."

Steve snorts, doing his best to hold his smile back. "I'll keep that in mind, sir," he says, giving a mocking two-finger salute before turning on his heels and walking down the street.

After a few blocks, he veers off into the forest, figuring he'll wander around the trees for a while before going to the Hideout to bother Bev and stare at Eddie and quietly pray someone else is gonna look for a fight.

Did he mention Hawkins is boring? Because it's fucking boring.

Steve sighs, kicking a stick as he shoves his hands into his jacket. He idly notes the forest is healthy. Sure, a few pieces of litter are strewn around, but it's not as bad as the parks in Gotham can get. Poison Ivy would find this place barely passable, which is hard to manage, and he's tempted to call her when he gets home to tell her about it.

He hums softly as he walks, enjoying the sounds of the forest until they just...stop.

The entire forest falls silent, which is weird; forests are too full of life to go silent. Even the bugs seem to have frozen in place, too scared to risk making a sound by moving. Steve stops, looking around him with a frown and trying to figure out what's caused this.

He gets the answer a second later when he hears a scream. The voice sounds young and cracks slightly, so it definitely belongs to a child. Despite himself, Steve can't help grinning as he takes off in the direction of the scream.

This is the most exciting thing to happen in the four weeks he's been stuck in Hawkins. As he runs through trees and easily jumps over bushes to take the shortest path, he makes guesses on what he'll find. Maybe Hawkins has a villain that's only now showing up. Maybe the town has a secret alligator or something that's decided to have a midday snack. Hell, maybe someone just decided to be a dick today.

He realizes every guess is wrong when he slides into a clearing to see a few kids (two boys, one girl) surrounded by some weird dog-looking...things. They have heads but no faces, crouched low to the ground and growling at the kids they've cornered. There's around ten of them, which would normally make Steve hesitate, but he's so desperate at this point for a real fight that he doesn't care.

Instead, he reaches over his shoulder, thinks about how fucking hilarious it's gonna be to jump out of nowhere with a giant mallet, and grips the handle as he swings it over his shoulder. "Hey, monster mutts!" he shouts, grinning when all the monsters and the kids finally notice him. "Let's play."

Pure, unfiltered joy rushes through him when the first monster-dog jumps at him. Steve's eyes are bright and his grin is positively feral as he swings the mallet and sends it flying into a tree. He roundhouse kicks another dog, using the momentum to bring his foot down on the head of a third before smashing its body with the mallet.

"Are you insane?!" one of the kids shouts.

"Certifiably!" he shouts back, watching as another monster-dog jumps at him. He waits for the perfect moment to back flip, bringing his feet under the dog to send it flying. He brings the mallet up as he lands, clocking another monster under the jaw. It yelps, crashing into another dog.

"Where'd this guy even come from?" the girl asks, turning to look at the boys with her.

"I don't know, but I'm happy to let him deal with the demodogs."

Oh. That's what they're called. Steve hums softly at the name, grinning as he twirls the mallet and swings with all his strength at one of the demodog. He rests the mallet on his shoulder like a baseball bat, watching the demodog arch in the air with an appreciative whistle. "Solid air," he says, nodding once before looking at the remaining demodogs.

There's only three, the others scattered in the clearing. He can't tell if they're dead or not, but he could always smash them to mush when he's done. Steve grins at the remaining dogs. "C'mon, then," he says, only to be filled with disappointment when they creep back, turn heel, and run.

"Damn, that's no fun," Steve says, sighing as he rests the mallet on the ground and leans on the handle. He looks at the kids. "You guys okay?"

The girl has orange hair pulled back into a messy braid. She's staring at him like he's got two heads but is kind of impressed by it. One of the boys has curly hair being smothered by his hat, and the other is wearing a basketball jersey. They're also staring at Steve like he's crazy. "Dude," the curly-haired one says, "that was awesome!"

"Where'd you get that mallet from?" the girl asks.

"Jester Logic," Steve explains, shrugging as he picks the mallet up and walks over. "Wanna hold it?"

When the girl lights up, he passes the mallet to her, snorting when she immediately staggers under its weight. "How do you hold this so easily?"

"Jester Logic. Again. It's funnier when other people find it heavy."

"That makes no sense," basketball jersey says.

"Who are you?" curly hair asks.

"Steve. Moved here recently. What about y'all?"

"Dustin," curly hair says.

"Lucas," basketball jersey says.

"Max," the girl says, her voice strained until Steve takes the mallet back, twirling it like it weighs nothing.

"Great. Nice to meet y'all. Now, what the fuck were those?"

"How much time you got?" Dustin asks.

Steve grins, thinking he's finally found something that can keep him entertained when he's not hanging around Eddie. "Plenty."

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Tag list (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@nectandra, @y4r3luv, @just-a-tiny-void,

[writing-makes-me-human]

Trial By Water 🐚

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Pairing: Aonung X reader

Summary: Aonung is hiding his jealousy of your new courter and you have to track him down to find out why he’s suddenly become so hostile.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Hi,not dead. Let me know if you enjoy it and if you would like me to write part two( I have some ideas). My requests are always open if you want to request a character from ATWOW or if you want to talk. Anonymous is available if you’re shy :) 

P.S: I’m thinking about adding a tag list, let me know if you would consider being on it or what I could do to make that seem more appealing. 

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You emerged from the water and stumbled onto the shore, desperately fighting the waves as you brushed your hair back as smoothly as you could while scanning the beach. Sure enough, sitting between two dunes, working on something you couldn't quite make out from this distance, was Aonung.

Tsireya had come forward to you this morning before breakfast and asked you to talk to her brother. He had become even moodier than ever these last few days, and the worry on her face made you forget the petty boycotting you and Aonung were in the middle of and you forced yourself to agree to speak with him.

He had been avoiding you for the past week like you had a contagious disease, and even though you wanted to seek him out and demand he tell you what was wrong, he had skilfully been steering clear of his usual spots where you knew to find him.

With nowhere else to search, you decided to brave the waters and swim here in an effort to track him down and interrogate him.

His back faced the sandy knoll that broke up the shrubbery line from the sandy beach. He seemed pissed off even when he thought he was alone. Aonung, with nowhere in mind, had found his way to the back of the island where the mangroves didn't grow and the people didn't come. Nobody came to the deserted beach for leisure in fear of losing themselves against the waves that naturally pulled you against the rocks when one tried to swim anywhere on this side of the island.

Coming to the beach from the inland would have been safer. The venture through the wooded area was guarded by many people who would be out foraging or hunting. You didn't need to bring shame to Aonung by bringing more people into your dispute, as someone would have eventually asked why you were going to the most uninhabitable part of the island that was often reserved for lovers' long nights alone.

He had spotted you out of his peripheral vision, his only tell was the way his ears pressed back against his head, not at all by his warm greeting and friendly demeanor that was not offered to you.

You trudged up the uneven sand terrain with an eye roll; he was so dramatic, sitting up here all by himself.

You watched the boy as you clambered up to meet him. He did not acknowledge you as your shadow fell over him. The water you had just been swimming in dripped onto the dry white sand below you and onto his knee that was pointed towards you, his other leg lay flat while his head was bowed. He was eagerly working on something that he didn't care to present.

"So what's got your loincloth in a twist?" You asked, trying not to sound exhausted or patronizing, even though you were slightly irked at his recent suspicious behaviour.

He didn't concede to you and continued playing his own game of pretending you didn't exist while working, adding more force to his actions now that you had arrived to bug him.

You crouched down, peeking around his head to see what he was doing. You smiled softly to yourself as you saw he was carving a spearhead. You watched for a few seconds as he roughly scrapped away wood shavings, pulling his knife to the top and letting it make a satisfying slice before returning to start the motion again. The point was rather sharp, and from the outlines he had made, you could see he was going to add deep serrations onto the side of the blade.

"That looks a bit too lethal for any fish around here. Are you planning on killing me?" You asked, watching him ignore you. He kept the pace he had set for himself and continued whittling.

"If you are going to kill me, you have to grant me a last wish, it's the warrior code, and I wish for you to tell me why you are sitting here, by yourself in a pout, plotting my death", you smiled gently but he didn't even seem even to clock you had spoken.

"AH! Fine, you win! Just tell me what's wrong. Your sister and I are worried about you!" You hissed at him, getting enraged by his anger that he was not willing to do anything to rectify, which only furthered his attitude. It was becoming tedious to live with.

He finally broke the rules of his game and looked at you. Your face faltered as you saw the most heated hatred in the boy's eyes that you had ever seen in his entire life. He pulled his top lip up in an instinctual quiver to show off his fangs, his eye bore into your soul before he returned to his work, shaving the wood away.

You stood, glaring down at his hair which had been re-braided with looser locks that lead to his signature man-bun at the top of his head. He had hurt your feelings, but you persisted, he was your best friend and you wouldn't leave him like this.

"So, you go away for a hunting trip, come back a week later, and suddenly you don't want to be my friend anymore? If you're going to do that to me you must at least explain yourself!" Reasoning with him seemed to make it worse as his shoulders tensed more from your words. He took a particularly powerful dig into the wood that skinned back a large shaving.

"Careful", you muttered as you paced around him in a circle like a vulture, trying to ascertain what had changed over the past couple of weeks. He looked the same, with no new scars or injuries, the only perceivable difference was his perspective of you.

You paused behind him, leaning down on your knees into the sand that clung to your wet body. You gazed at his back, seeing his muscles tense up and his ears flicker as he listened out to try and identify what you were doing.

You suddenly pressed your hands flat against his lower back which caused him to take a sharp intake of breath. He straightened his posture, and his head clocked up to stare ahead, but still, he didn't speak. You felt his lugs draw in more and more air but he didn't talk, he just gazed over the water and glared at the spot where the water met the horizon and tried his best to ignore as your palms rubbed circles into his back to try and soothe him.

"What's wrong pretty boy?" You whispered, allowing yourself to lean slowly onto him. Your hands crept up to his shoulders and stayed there for a moment, rubbing them with a soft massage before your hands travelled lower, sliding down so you could rub at his pectorals from behind.

He didn't gauge a reaction except for a sharp exhale that sounded caught between annoyance and anger. You hummed in his ear quietly, pressing your stomach against his back, your hands sliding themselves under the sides of his ribs, forming an 'X' shape over his chest that let you cradle him.

His ears twitched for a second before changing directions and turning to a sad downturn. He allowed you to hold him like that for a few seconds before he muttered something under his breath.

"Huh?" You asked, eager to hear what he finally had to say.

"I said that's an ugly bracelet", he quipped, bringing his left hand to your right hand and holding it up for you to see the brown cord that had the small pearl weaved into it.

You focused on the feeling of his hand on yours more than inspecting the before-seen jewellery, gently smiling as his rough hands slipped away, knowing he had broken some more arbitrary rules he had set in place so he could ignore you. Allowing you to touch him made it much harder for him to think, let alone concentrate on being mad at you for so long.

"It was a gift from Ixa'Tey, I think he gave it to me while you were away", you didn't bother admiring it, returning to nestle in the crevice of his neck.

He scoffed at you and moved forward a great distance. He used his arms as oars to push himself off the sand and as far away from you as his long arms would allow him, not caring as you tipped from the balance. That was until you grabbed onto his queue by accident and tugged on it to try and stop yourself face-planting into the sand.

He froze, and you immediately dropped the long braid, falling onto your hand now that your reflexes could manage it. You were silent as you scooted back. He dared to turn and look at you and couldn't help the amusement he felt when he saw you were blushing hard, a hand pressed against your face to try and hide it.

His annoyance at the mention of his old friend from childhood, who he knew had started courting you, was gone as he looked up at your beautiful face.

"I'm sorry", was all you managed to whisper as you stood up, entirely embarrassed you had touched such a private part of his anatomy on accident.

His smile caught you off guard, and you pulled your hand away, gawking at his grin that perked his ears up.

"You're a skxawng", was all he could seem to mutter to you as he scooted back a little, a silent welcome to talk to him.

You smiled widely, feeling the urge to be mad at him for finding amusement in such a taboo thing fade along with the tinge of blush that had previously been on your face.You plopped down next to him, staring at his spearhead and knife that were placed beside him while he crossed his legs, putting aside the work until later.

"Why are you upset?" You asked, watching as his smile died suddenly and his scowl appeared again.

He eyed the carving beside him, but you quickly leaned over his lap, ignoring how his hands flew above his head so he didn't risk touching your skin. He knew if he felt you here with nobody around, the young future chief wouldn't be able to resist his wants, thus turning himself in when he would inevitably confess his most profound feelings to you at the mere touch of your more private skin. He was distracted, watching your waist stretch in front of him like a platter, ignoring how you grabbed the wood block and knife and tossed it to the side of you, watching where it landed while Aonung slapped you upside the head as he lost sight of it.

"That took me all week!" He yelled, but you hushed him with a finger. Placing it on his lips and gesturing for him to breathe.

He took a small breath, watching your ears flicker as you stared at his chest rising and falling. You finally pulled back your hand and tried desperately to record in your mind what the soft flesh of his lips felt like against your finger.

He evened his breathing and returned to your conversation while rolling his eyes as you looked at him expectantly. He didn't want to talk about the previous two weeks, which was why he had been so careful to keep you at more than arm's length.

He knew he was expected to be happy for your new future, but Aonung couldn't bring himself to be anything more than angry, so he tried desperately to stay away and keep from ruining your new life.

"When I got back, people told me things", he mustered from deep below his emotional walls.You settled, watching him with eyes full of readiness, eager to take on what he said, but he did not continue. He chose to turn instead and look at you, his ears pressed back against his head in anger once again.

You groaned loudly, allowing yourself to fall onto your back on the sand. It was always a great big dance with Aonung to figure out his true feelings, and with every step forward you thought you had taken, he was already leading you three steps back.

He watched you groan and mumble, feeling guilt entrap him as he thought about how he had been treating you. He had come to the furthest point of the island to ignore you, and you had followed him to try and cheer him up, yet he still couldn't seem to work up the courage to say what he was thinking.

"They said...that you had mated with someone", he spoke almost silently, hoping the words would be captured by the sea and carried out far away from here where the ugly emotions he felt boiling in his stomach would die.

You sat up, staring at him, a sign to go further, but he growled, not wanting to continue without your acknowledgment to see where your mind was going.

"So? I haven't mated with anyone, I've only just turned 19!" You huffed out a sarcastic laugh. He, however, did not join you in laughter and turned to look down at his hands.

"Aonung, you know how people rumour around the reefs, people place bets on who every young one will mate with, it doesn't mean it's what I have decided", you reasoned, slowly catching onto the reason he was so upset. You placed a caring hand on his knee, and much to your surprise, your heartthrob let one of his fists unfurl and lay on top of yours. Hand on hand.

Even though his jealousy had ended with such anger and unease spread through everyone and everything you couldn't help the giddy glow you had at the idea of Aonung being jealous of people trying to court you.

He nodded to himself, of course, he knew that! He had nearly died of asphyxiation from the laughter he let out when he heard about you and Ixa'Tey being mated. The boy was insufferable and had no rank to speak of, he would have been a terrible match as your mate.

You smiled, waving your hand in front of him in a silent order for him to continue. Seeing you eased every word out of him while a terrible battle fought in his heart, debating with himself if it was worth the risk of telling you he wanted you.

"Yeah, of course, I know that! But when I got back, Rotxo said you two had been courting--and don't deny it either, I've seen him hanging around you like a bug", he seethed.

The one time he had actually calmed down enough to track you down and talk to you about what he had heard and make his claim to you, there the little insect was, following you around with gifts in his hands destined for you and shells in his hair Aonung knew you had braided in. Watching you laugh at his jokes made him want to break the idiot's face, so he just left. He didn't want to face you.

You sighed, rubbing your face gently. Aonung watched you closely, trying to interpret every twitch your eyes made and every flex of your eyebrow.

"I won't lie, he has made a claim to me, and my parents approve", you spoke as strongly as you could, watching him hiss at nothing, muttering words under his breath you knew he meant but wouldn't repeat to you.

"But I haven't said yes to him", you gripped his knee tightly, begging him to believe you. He squeezed your hand back in answer.

"Is there someone else? Why haven't you said yes to him?" He had to know where he stood with you, even if it broke him down and turned him heartless.

It was your turn to become sheepish and standoffish towards displaying your emotions at the boy. You couldn't tell him, even if this was the perfect place and the crucial moment to do it, you couldn't bare the idea of him laughing at you or, worse, quietly rejecting you.

"I don't think I can say..." you whispered, feeling the palpation in your chest grow more frequent.His anger flickered, and his face fell to curiosity, he gawked at you with those powerful eyes you tried to ignore while he crept on you, his breath changed, his heart rate increased, and his hands felt sweaty.

"Why not?" He asked, feeling the words get caught in his throat.

"Ixa'Tey is just not the one I want", you mumbled, feeling your face heat up again as you didn't dare look at him.

The clueless boy felt his heart sink. You did have your eyes on someone, and by the way you weren't even meeting his eyes, ashamed to even look at him, he knew it wasn't him.

"Who is it?" His fists balled together, his aggression clear through his unintended tone that oozed infuriation at the idea of anyone being considered good enough for you.

You let out an exhale of disbelievement at his stupidity. If he were going to act so stupidly, you would at least get your payback at him for making you swim out here after a week of thinking you had done something wrong.

"You know him well, he is very handsome", a slight grin appearing on your lips as if in happy thought, imagining the boy sitting next to you in your head while Aonung rolled his eyes, trying to think of every boy he had ever interacted with.

"He is one of the best hunters in our tribes, so very skilled", he clenched his fist tightly, pulling the hand that had been holding yours away, not daring to look at you because Aonung knew he would explode if your face were matching the tone in which you spoke about this boy.

"Who is it?" He asked again, this time though his voice was worryingly even, meaning he was enraged beyond all shadow of a doubt.

"Sometimes I go swimming with him, and I picture us doing terrible things behind the rocks, it's so embarrassing because he has no idea what I'm thinking", this quickly drew his attention and he couldn't stop himself from glaring hot daggers at you while you dreamily imagined being intimate with anyone who wasn't him.

"I was hoping he would make a claim to me before anyone else, especially since we've known each other so long, but he didn't", as you spoke these new words, you felt your ears flicker in despair. You really had been hoping Aonung would have made a claim to you before he left but he didn't. Ixa'Tey had stolen you away, and your parents were thrilled to encourage it, but you knew every time you were with him that you secretly wished it was somebody else.

"He's a moron then if he doesn't claim you", his fists were an unnatural colour now as he tensed them. He hadn't thought of you dealing with unrequited love in the same way he was. He would do anything to protect you, and if that meant beating in the face of some guy who broke your heart, he couldn't even pretend the idea made him any less than smug.

"I agree!" You yelled, hands raised to the sky as if he had just said something groundbreaking.

"He's more than that, he's a skxawng!" you yelled. He pulled back, a bit confused about your total 180 on this mystery boy, who you had gone from melting at the mere idea of to firing up at without mercy.

"He is such a conniving brat! First, he makes no claim to me, gets upset when another does, then has the audacity to take off for a week, comes back mad at me, then makes me swim to the other side of the island just to get some sense out of him!" You had jumped up halfway through the speech, punching one hand into the other with a grin before you waited for him to catch up.

His eyes widened beyond control. He could only watch you while taking heavy breaths. The words and feelings you had both been trying to cover up now lay open in front of one another. Your smile faded as you watched him look at you. Had you misinterpreted him? Did he not like you? His mouth was open, but his eyebrows were pointed down in careful questioning.

"Me?" He asked softly, trying not to sound desperate, knowing your rejection would crumble him up and drown him.

You did confess that perhaps admitting it was him you wanted to mate with more than anybody else while making a joke was probably the best way to send the poor man mixed signals.

He stood slowly, head cocked to the side, as he walked to you in two short steps. He looked down at you with the most severe look on his face you had ever seen. He bumped into you lightly, chest touching yours as he tried to find what to say.

You nodded, leaning forward with your eyes never leaving his. His skin burnt a hole through you, and his face was so close you could smell the sweetness of the oils used in his hair.Staring into his eyes made you feel like nobody else, Aonung didn't just look up and down like a few others did, he looked into your soul.

When you were children, you used a childish bullying tactic on his sister that would always catch a reaction. The two of you used to pretend that you and Aonung were such close friends you could read each other's minds, it was a treasured memory. Right now, though, with his eyes peering past your body and into your very being, you swore he could pull anything he wanted from your mind with those eyes looking into every part of you that you wanted to keep private, just like you pretended to do when you were kids.

"Yes, it's you skxawng", you whispered, tilting your head up a bit to press your forehead against his, feeling his cool skin aline with yours making your heart beat like a drum and your breath tremble.

"Good, nobody else would have been good enough", he matched your volume, both of you allowing your hands to reach to the other's face in an affectionate embrace. Everything felt perfect to you as the sound of the water not far from where you were standing crashed against the beach with a roar.

"I see you", he mumbled, louder than his whisper but not quite in the usual volume he used that commanded respect.

You pulled away from his forehead, stroking his cheek with your thumb while you grinned from ear to ear.

"Does this mean you've made a claim to me, or should I go back to speak with Ixa'Tey", you grinned devilishly, finding that the teasing lightened up the air that was thick for your desires of what to do with one another. You were two young adults in love on a beach with nobody in sight, but you still had traditions that must be obeyed even though you knew nobody could lay a claim to you that would burn brighter than Aonung's.

He pulled back a little, hands coming up to smack you before they fell to rest on your hips, squeezing timidly at your sides while you laughed, taking no notice as the symphony squeezed his heart.

"I lay claim to you, and I intend to court you better than Ixa'Tey ever could", he rolled his eyes and spat out the boy's name while you absorbed in the fact that after so many years, he had finally got the guts to say he wanted you as his mate for life and he was going to claim you.