#lets just say camper van

[yourelosingains]

also happy one year anniversary to these amazing van scenes!

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x gn reader

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.39k | part 2

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: not communicating and not talking about your feelings (not miscommunication since you don't even communicate)

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There's too many beds.

The one night where you guys don't manage to make it to a motel, there's too many damn beds.

The camper van can fit pretty much all of you at once, not that the seven of you will do that anyway. Dani and Dexter have claim on it, as the drivers, and will probably accept two more comfortably.

In Lilly's van there's the backseat and the floor, but if we're counting, for how many beds there are by technicality, the two front seats as well.

You always have tents and sleeping bags around too, just in case you guys can't drive everyone from any recently unfortunate communities to the nearest hotel (although you'd certainly try). To give a rough estimate, about a dozen tents?

Then there's Tyler's truck, the two front seats and the back seat, and the truck bed. It's a bit short, but it can fit plenty people curled up.

So what to choose?

You should probably stay in a car. Much more heat that way, but who's gonna take you in? The designated drivers obviously prefer their own cars, so... Dexter's campervan is pretty spacious? Then again, so's Lilly's, and to be honest she's more of a vibe than the other two, but also why would you need vibes if you're just sleeping?

Maybe you should start a fire, huddle around that? No, that's a hazard, nevermind the fact you only know how to start a fire in theory.

Let's stick to a car, then. Lilly or Dex & Dan for space... Lilly, sure, why not?

As you start heading over to Lilly's van, you hear a sharp whistle. You don't have time to wonder who it's from, as Tyler spins you around.

"You're coming with me." He proclaims, taking you by the shoulders, and you can only laugh.

"Why me?"

Tyler grins, walking you unceremoniously towards his truck bed. "Because you're you, dove." That alone sounds rather intimate, so he fixes his mistake quickly. You're just friends, after all. "And Boone kicks people in his sleep, Lilly's hair gets everywhere, Dani steals the blankets, Dexter snores, and Ben...it's pitiful how he squeezes himself into the corner whenever he's sleeping next to someone, so we always give him his own space."

Right, all good points you'd forgotten.

"So why exactly am I better?" You tease, stopping in your tracks so Tyler bumps into your back and stay close.

"You're warm." And at first it seems like that's the only thing he'll say, your only benefit, as he pauses; but then the rest comes spilling out like a toad strangler. "You're also soft, you don't steal the blanket, you don't complain when I suddenly start talking and you don't snore."

Tyler doesn't mention that the two of you cuddle when you bunk together, and that you bunk together often. He doesn't mention how tonight he'll let you cuddle up on his chest, or perhaps how he'll press his nose against yours and let you play with his hair, because simply mentioning it will mean you'll have to talk about it.

You don't want to talk about, you think; and neither does he. You don't want to talk about how there's something different with the way he slings his arm around your shoulder, or the way you knock your head against his, or how he always gives out your share of whatever (pizza, cookies, etc.) before anyone else, or how you always offer your help to him no matter what.

They're always easy things to ignore, his skinship is not conditional and neither is your kindness, but there's something about the way you look into his eyes when you say thank you, and something about the way his touch lingers.

You don't want to put your finger on it, at least not this season. You'll say it again the next season, and the next, but you ignore that.

"So then I'm your favorite person?" You turn around and bonk your fist against his chest.

He whistles again, drawn-out like he does in awkward moments, but you know it's only playful. "Don't push your luck, dove. You're like... top 5!"

"Top 5? Aww," You feign offense, plopping your hand over your own chest now, "I didn't make it to top 3?"

He splays out his hand and begins to count on his fingers. "There's my mom, then my dad, then the family dog, Liam from the rodeo, and then you."

"The family dog?" Your eyebrows furrow, and the acting seems a bit too real until the look on your face gives away to a memory of his dog giving you kisses. "Oh, yeah, okay. I get it."

"See? You get it." Tyler chuckles, spins you back around and keeps on walking.

The spot you guys picked today is drier than the last, which is something you're thankful for. It's quite far from any town, but the streetlights that adorn the far off road make you feel a bit safer that civilization is just around the corner. There's a light breeze, not too cold and not too fast, and the stars! Oh, the stars.

They're damn nice out here cause they're actually visible tonight, a little less light pollution, you think. It's certainly a lot brighter than, say, NYC or Washington.

"Ain't they pretty today?" Tyler comments, his hands on your shoulders squeezing.

"Yeah. Sparkly too. You know any constellations?"

"No," He hums, his voice holding a bit of lament. "I tried, once. I tried taking a class in college. Astrology."

"How'd that go?" You ask offhandedly, hopping onto the bed of the truck.

"Ended up being too stressed with my main curriculum and dropped the class before it got too far." He fixes a tarp over the top of the truck bed, over the exoskeleton, so not much light will shine over your eyes when you try to sleep.

"The smart Tyler Owens got too stressed?" You ask as you help him up.

"Being smart doesn't mean I have good time management." Tyler says as he sits next to you, and you shrug. Suppose he's right.

"Still pretty though." You hum, leaning your head against his shoulder as you look up.

"Yeah." He agrees. His arm comes to wrap around you naturally, running up and down your side. "Have you ever tried to come up with constellations with... I don't know, whoever you were looking at the sky with?"

"You know what? I don't think so." You raise a finger, tracing a path in the stars for a moment, trying to find something interesting.

He finds one before you, pointing at a group of stars in a weird glob shape. "There, a cloud!"

That alone gets you to let out an ugly, surprised laugh; despite how ugly you might've thought it to be, he thinks it's cute. "You trynna cloudgaze with stars, cowboy?"

"Shut up." He laughs, knocking his head against yours. "You try, genius."

After a couple seconds, you point out a distinct...cone shape in the sky. "Unicorn horn."

"Unicorn horn?"

"What am I supposed to say, cone?"

"You could've said ice cream cone, a little more age appropriate, you know?" He holds out his hand, holding out a small gap between his index and thumb fingers to accentuate little.

"Yeah, well it has no ice cream, dumbass."

"Woah," Tyler withdraws, raising his hands in surrender. "no need to get so defensive, dove."

You slap his hands only to draw them back around you. He has no complaints about that. "Clearly we both suck at this. Let's just admire the stars normally."

He huffs out a laugh but turns his gaze back to the night sky without complaint. It's rather peaceful, this moment, and so nice. Maybe it's not rare that you get comfortably quiet moments with him, nor is it ever rare for Tyler to hold you close like this, but it doesn't make it any less endearing.

"Look!" Tyler breaks the silence suddenly, finger tracing a path in the stars. "A heart."

"You're kidding." You huff out. He's just playing with you, he has to be, especially after your miserable attempts at finding shapes in the sky.

Despite yourself, your eyes will the stars above you into the shape of a heart. Goddamnit, you think, because it's definitely a sign.

"I'm going to sleep." You tear yourself away from his grip and he laughs and tries to steal you back to him, but you fight briefly and end up winning. It's a nice victory, especially because you won over him, but it's not on par with actually finding something in the sky (and you're avoiding the sign).

Tyler chases after you, flopping down beside you. The tarp above casts darkness over the back of the truck bed, but a soft glow still shines through.

You sigh and tuck a hair of Tyler's behind his ear, to which he only laughs. "Jealous, much?"

"Oh, totally." You'd roll your eyes, but they're stuck on his.

"I won." He's triumphant, but you can only focus on how pretty his smile looks.

"You did." You reply, not fighting him on it, and slowly his amusement fades away with the deflation of his body.

"You're not making this fun." Tyler steals your hand, presses the back of it to his lips and notably does not pucker up and kiss. It might be payback, or it might be avoiding the obvious intimacy that kissing you is.

"It wasn't a competition, anyway." You remind him, and he rolls his eyes.

His attitude eventually exudes out of him with a sigh, and he lets go of your hand to push closer. His head rests below your chin, his nose against your neck, and it's not new, but it's not old either.

"I'm sick n' tired of you." He huffs against your neck as you take the opportunity to tuck the both of you in.

You hold back a laugh. "Oh, yeah? Tell me why."

His voice is muffled against your neck, and maybe the vibrations tickle, but you don't dare move away. "I won! We should be celebrating that."

"Celebrate it in your dreams." Despite it being practically the same thing as in your dreams, it actually sounds quite genuine.

"Don't be like that," Tyler whines. "let me stay up for a little while."

You put your hand in his hair, then, twirling strands around your fingers and scratching his scalp, and Tyler hates you and also loves you, because it feels so good that it pulls a groan out of him, but it's lulling him to sleep.

"You're cheating." He whines again. He's being rather childish, huh?

"It's way past your bedtime." You say in a sing-songy way. Curiosity takes over, and you pull his head away from you gently to look into his eyes.

They open once you pull him off you, just barely. Half-lidded, not by lust, but by sleep. "I just wanna hold you for a little while longer." He says, and you don't know how he does it, but his eyes have turned pleading.

"That's on you to try, cowboy." You huddle close again, allowing him to take up the same position as before.

Despite himself, Tyler sighs contently, wrapping his arms around your midriff. One of your hands is on his back, rubbing slow circles, and the other is back on his hair.

He's definitely not going to last long now.

"When's the last time you've ridden a horse?" Tyler babbles on to try to keep awake, but you can hear the sleepy lilt in his voice. "I think my last time was when I last visited home, before the season started."

"One sheep over the fence, two sheep over the fence–"

"Shuddup."

You laugh, hands smoothing over his hair again. You're not sure how you're not very sleepy right now, tucked under the blankets, in his warm hold. Maybe it's the subconscious thought of not accidentally hitting your head on the spare wheel above you, or the faraway feel of the ridges of the truck bed below you.

Or maybe it's wanting to tease him.

"Kiss me."

"What?"

You've kissed before, little playful things: cheek kisses for the camera, neck kisses to either scare you or tickle you, forehead kisses after particularly dangerous scares, hand kisses when he's trying to act all gentlemanly, temple kisses after hugs. You've never kissed him on the lips before, and actually, neither of you have ever explicitly asked for a kiss. They've always been given without question.

"Please?" He asks again, pulling back so that his forehead is off your neck.

Oh, he only wanted a forehead kiss.

You oblige happily, press your lips against his forehead and let out and exaggerated muah!

"No, not there." He pulls away almost entirely, scooting up to be face to face.

You'd laugh, if what he was asking you for wasn't a kiss on the lips. You can't lie, you've thought about it before, when the sun shines a particular way over his face at sunset, or when he's considerably too hot to ignore.

...you're going to have to talk about this tomorrow.

Except tomorrow is not today yet, and so you cup his cheek. You debate it for a moment, a yes or a no, but there's one answer clear in your mind, a yes.

You press your lips against his, and it's more subtle than that forehead kiss, and it feels so much more tangible, in a way. His lips move against yours, a languid thing, a soft thing.

You wonder if he's going to remember this tomorrow, if being as sleepy as this is equivalent to being drunk.

"Thank you." Tyler says as you part, and he settles back where he was, head against your neck. He seems satisfied now, willing to nod off.

"Don't mention it." You say automatically.

Okay you're definitely going to have to talk about this tomorrow. For now, though, you'll just hold him. It's a strange thing to say, but he's always been rather nice to hold, a big man to fill your entire hug, even if he does make your heartbeat spike.

"Goodnight." He says.

"Sweet dreams." You reply.

There's nothing else to think about but the feeling of him in your arms and the warmth of his body as your eyes draw closed.

[alnilaem]

you lose your way on the pastures of a hidden farmstead. however, upon meeting the husky owner, being lost quickly becomes the least of your problems.

cw for noncon/dubcon, forced lifestyle puppy play, kidnapping

read on ao3

-

John sees you coming from over the horizon.

He heard the sputter of your van before seeing it. The plume of smoke that follows in your wake, orange and ashy, as you drive down the pebbled road.

He was rounding the house after letting the cattle out when he noticed you. He tips the brim of his hat back and watches, grinding his teeth into the wad of tobacco folded into his cheek, his hackles raised because you’ve decided to ignore the splintery No Trespassing sign in big, black letters pounded into the front of his farmstead.

He wraps a hand around his belt, watching as your camper van slows to a stop in front of him.

The hinges in John’s jaw lock. He’s ready to throw out an expletive, threaten you with the bare metal of his pistol, browned with age, and throw you into the back of his rust-bridled truck. He’d drive you into town and toss you onto the porch of the sheriff’s office, maybe teach you a thing or two about trespassing.

But your engine cuts, and your door swings open, and John’s tobacco turns heavy in his mouth.

He sees your shoes first, pressing tracks into the dirty road as you step out. Frilly socks that end below your knees. You’re wearing tight little denim shorts and a gauzy top that sticks to your chest, knotting your nipples in the summer heat.

You smile.

It’s a little sweet, dewy-eyed. It makes John’s cock chub up, makes him swallow his tobacco on accident, sticking to the spine of his throat.

“Hi mister,” you say. Light and wispy like the breeze that whorls through your ropes of hair. “Sorry to be a bother.”

John perks up. He crosses his arms over his heavily built chest, the hair on his forearms bristling with his newfound flush.

“Just trying to find my way here–“ you unfurl a map and point towards a little dot. “Mind helping a girl out?”

You giggle. It’s coy, John tells himself, just like the flutter of your eyelashes as you hoist your neck up at him, preening.

“Um… sure,” John takes off his cowboy hat and runs a hand through his sweat-matted hair. “Four hours. East. You jus’ follow the road.”

Gooseflesh creeps down John’s skin as you turn around and toss your map into the van, your ass spilling from the bottom of your shorts.

You turn back around and John coughs, averts his eyes to the cattle in the distance. He tightens the reel of his lasso around his knuckles, squirming.

“Thanks, mister,” you grin. “Know anywhere I can top up on gas?”

He gives you another look.

His eyes sweep a trail of flames over your body, making your blood churn. He keens at your nipples and the grain of your denim shorts digging into your cute pussy. He can see the barest outline of it winking back at him. Making his cock pulse.

He decides not to tell you about the gas station a kilometre west of here. Decides that would be too much trouble for a pretty lady like you.

“I’ve got plenty,” John says. Gruff, grizzled, like a bear that’s been in torpor too long. “Follow me.”

All John has to do is snap his tongue against the roof of his mouth to get you to follow him. He takes you into his rustic farmhouse, the place sparse in a red-blooded way, and leads you to the kitchen.

You don’t expect the dog, large with mud-felted paws, that pounces and almost knocks you to the floor.

Its tongue is rough and wet and gnarled against your cheek. You squeal, trying to push it away. It probably thinks you’re playing because it wags its tail, nipping at the divot in your shoulder.

“Aye,” John barks. “Off of ‘er, Dog. Git! Git on out of here.”

John shepherds the dog—aptly named Dog—into his crate by tossing a threadbare toy into it. The golden-haired mutt chases after it, following the toy into his cage.

“No way to treat a damn lady…” John mumbles under his breath. He smiles apologetically at you, his soft wrinkles puckering. He puts his hands on his hips, digging his fingers into his moth-eaten jeans and his sun-bleached flannel. He cocks his head to the side, squints.

“So, sweetheart, how about that gas?”

-

John brings you to a barn out back.

He leads you with a hand split on your lower back, past the stables and the paddocks and the roaming cattle beneath the blaring sun.

He pulls open the large barn doors, his arms flexing with the exertion, and puts his hands on his belt.

It’s an abandoned building. There’s no chicken, no stallions. It’s clear that the barn has been delegated to a storage space of sorts, going by the hay-bales strewn around and the miscellaneous staples of ranch equipment.

John smiles. It offsets his rugged look, makes you disarm a bit.

“Apologies for the mess,” he says, starting to tear through the supplies. “Just wasn’t expectin’ a pretty lady on my doorstep today.”

You stifle a giggle just to be nice, but John, in his time-honoured ways, reads it as coy again. It makes his cock stir against the metal teeth of his jeans, makes his mustache turn hot and wiry against the damp skin above his lip.

John rummages some more. Pretends to nick his finger on a metal steeple. Expels a heavy breath. His stomach paunchy and his chest strong, the hairs pressing against the gauze of his flannel as he rises to his feet and shrugs, hands set on his belt.

“Sorry sweetie,” John grumbles. “No gas here. How do you feel about dinner though?”

The change happens so quick you almost get hit with whiplash.

Your lips pop around stutters, and John’s balls turn heavy. He can imagine your lips parting around his cockhead, all the way down to his pubic bone which is stale with sweat and musky, steel-wooled. It makes him grip his belt tighter, white-knuckled, and undo the first few buttons of his flannel.

“Sir… I really should be getting out of your hair.”

“Nonsense,” John chuckles. “It’s the least I can do for havin’ no gas. I can go into town tomorrow and get some.”

You’re already impaired by the burning, penetrative summer heat. It doesn’t help the way John is looking at you, like a stray predator that made its way onto his ranch and forces him to lock up his animals for safety.

John senses the rumination written into your pretty features. He tacks on, “An old man like me never gets any visitors. None as sweet as you, surely.”

You have to nod, still a little hesitant. You say yes only because there’s a bulky rancher here keen on filling your belly and the sun is beginning to set.

John chuckles and claps his large hands together. He leads you back to the main house and ends up feeding you shepherd’s pie and a cold can of Cola. He pours himself a glass of whiskey and that makes you indignant, as if he sees you as a kid.

Dog stirs at your feet while you eat. Nosing at your ankles and nudging your legs for some food. John flares. He snaps his fingers and snarls, and Dog, moulded by his Pavlovian response, ambles into his crate.

“That’s where naughty dogs go,” John tells him. “You’ll stay there ‘til we’re done.”

You finish not long after that. John gives Dog the plates to lick before soaking them in soap water and shows you your room for the night. His room, actually, but he says he’ll sleep on the couch because he’s a gentleman.

That makes you smile.

But when you wake up the next morning, you’re choking.

Your throat is cinched with nylon webbing. The collar cuts into your windpipe, hindering your sprinting breaths, causing panic to lick up your spine. You sweat and the collar soaks it all up. Makes your skin itchy, flaring, as you chisel at your flesh to try peeling it off you.

You stumble out of John’s bed and hurry outside. He’s herding the cattle when you run towards him for help. Your mind is too scattered to realize he’s the only other person on this farmstead. He’s the one who did this.

“Mister, mister–“ your words come out stifled, cramped against the tight ruck of your throat. “Mister, I dunno what’s happened. Help-“

John puts a hand up and tuts like you’re nothing but a strident, misbehaving mutt.

“Easy,” he grunts around a cigar. “Jus’ calm down, will you? You’re hootin’ and hollerin’ and scarin’ the cattle.”

You choke around your tears. You hang your head, still trying to wrestle the collar off you, your fear ripening into panoramic horror when you look down and see golden fur embroiled into the collar. A bone-shaped tag engraved with a word that makes your blood run cold.

Dog.

It’s John’s name for his pet, but on you, it’s derogatory. Degrades you to a four-legged pup that laps water out of a basin and squats to piss, that needs a handler as rough as John to keep you in check.

He cups your cheek, passes his thumb over your fat tears.

“You don’t like it?” He asks, his voice distorted with a hint of disappointment that, despite you, makes you feel bad. “I took it off Dog. Now he’s runnin’ around the ranch with no collar. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

He curls his fingers under the collar and tugs you close. Your face puckers as he expels a plume of cigar smoke over your face, softly squeezing your bum.

“Good dogs say thank you though. Are you a good dog?” John asks. His eyes darken, eclipsed by something dusky. “Or are y’naughty?”

John forestalls your begging reply, squashing it against your throat as he grips your collar and drags you behind him. Taking his puppy on a walk.

You bridle at the deep-seated embarrassment. John’s other animals seem to have more freedom than you, watching from their pens and pastures as you kick and scream behind him. He pulls you into the main house and takes you to the kitchen. Bullies you to your knees in front of the crate.

He grips the scruff of your neck and forces your head inside. It smells stuffy, stale. The dog bed is moth-eaten and covered in fur.

John pats your ass. He rubs your pussy through your shorts, slowly pulls them off. Kisses your slick clit which is outlined by the dewy gusset of your panties.

“Y’gonna keep cryin’?”

A long cry quivers past your lips.

John’s fingers, although jaded, a testament to working with his hands, make you feel delirious. Makes you curl your pert ass into him, your cunt begging for more.

“Go on, girl,” he grunts. “Go on in. Git.”

He takes you by the collar and shoves you inside the dog cage, since–

“You wanna keep cryin’. I’ll give you somethin’ to cry about.”

There’s barely enough space inside to move around. Dog is a big dog, so you’re able to spin around and face John, but that’s all. You tuck yourself into a fetus position, resting on your knees, the metal grating pressing tracks into your hot skin.

“I don’t reward bad behaviour,” John says. “So for that you’ll spend the night here.”

John clicks his teeth each time you misbehave—clawing at the door, begging him to let you out—his kissing teeth bully the sound of your pleas, until eventually, you quieten, responsive to his clicking tongue.

“That’s it,” John says. There’s a thread of praise in his voice that makes you squirm. “You stay there an’ think about what you’ve done.”

He stands up and prepares his lunch. Eggs on bread and a beer to wash it down. John eats slowly, as if he’s teasing you. Disciplining you further. You don’t think he’s going to feed you, another component of his punishment, until he’s rising from his chair and squatting in front of you, his empty plate in his hands.

Well, almost empty.

Veins of leftover egg yolk are smeared around the ceramic. You look at it, and then at John. He passes his fingers over the yolk and sticks his arm in your crate because the gaps are big enough, waggling his coated fingers.

“Eat.”

You’re shaking. Hesitantly unfurling your tongue, working it around John’s thick fingers, swallowing whatever dregs of food he’ll let you. You become more eager as it goes on—lapping at his yolk-covered fingers as well as the mud and mire crusted into his nails. Sucking at his swollen knuckles, nibbling on his finger hair.

He belly laughs before pulling his fingers out of your cage. John stands up and soaks his plate in sudsy water, turning to look at you.

“Busy day today,” he says. “I’ll see you tonight, pup.”

You find yourself whimpering—not talking—as he turns to leave.

-

That night, you’re woken with a scuffle and John clicking his tongue.

It rouses you immediately. That, and the thin sound of his belt unbuckling.

Sweat sticks to your skin, dewy, when John prods through the crate and gropes you. You can’t see him but you can feel him. Rubbing your puffy cunt, thumbing your clit. Flattening his tongue against your pussy and pulling your lips into his mouth.

“So fuckin’ sweet,” he mumbles against your clit. “Knew you were a sweet girl.”

John’s tongue travels up and wets your asshole. It makes you jerk against the metal, makes the cage rattle.

He pulls away and you moan, thinking it’s another punishment. You push your ass against the gratings, presenting yourself, the metal gridwall rubbing against your swollen clit and making you shiver.

John mumbles something about patience. It seems that he doesn’t have any patience either, soft-soaped by your pussy, because he’s pressing his tip against your opening and feeding you his cock.

John fucks you through the holes of your cage.

Your lungs barely have space to stretch. Your knees are folded into your chest and your collar is still biting into your neck. You’re being split open on John’s cock, your arousal turning your thighs sticky. Drool trickling from your mouth and sticking to your cheek.

You don’t know when it ends. When you come, thighs trembling, or when John paints your walls. You also don’t know when it starts again.

All you know is that it becomes a daily thing, lapsing into a weekly thing. You go to bed in your cage but, sometimes, when you behave, John will let you sleep on the foot of his bed. He’ll clip your nails for you and keep you well-groomed. Brushing your hair, cutting it for you. Bathing you in a galvanized tub out back.

Unlike with Dog, John will even let you eat while he eats dinner. He’ll unzip his jeans and let you slobber at his fat cock while he sips away at his blended whiskey and polishes off his meal with his full belly and his soon-to-be empty balls, mumbling all the while about how much of a perfect pet you are, how he’ll never let you go.

Not that he was planning to, anyhow.

[jjscrybaby]

rafe or jj request!

his girl gets into a minor car accident and she calls him because she needs him.

maybe while he’s away for work or after they got into a fight — honestly anything angsty where he takes care of her 🤍 love your writing xx

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (car accident, blood, stitches.)

thankyou baby!!! hope this is okay, i’m sick atm so not got a whole lot of energy to put into finding out info and stuff so i tried to rush past the hospital side of things😭

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You’d never gone this long without talking to your boyfriend; three days. You felt ridiculous at this point, but at the same time your point had been valid. You and JJ hadn’t gotten to spend any time together over the last few weeks, not since he started this ridiculous treasure hunt with John B and his other friends.

It wasn’t that you weren’t friends with the Pogues, you were, but not close enough to be involved. You’d tried, and even Kiara had invited you over with them a couple times too, but JJ always said no. It was dangerous, he’d say. It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d enjoy — and maybe he was right. Except, not getting to be apart of it meant you didn’t see him, and your final straw was when he was late to your anniversary dinner.

That was three days ago, and you hadn’t spoken since. The blowout had been crazy, you accused him of not putting in enough effort and he went on the defence and said you were being dramatic, that this was for John B. You understood that, you did, but you hadn’t gotten in this relationship to be second place.

Kiara ended up drinking too much at a kegger, and you had the honour of going to pick her up and drive her home. You were on your way back to your place, still wearing just your pyjama pants and one of JJ’s shirts, when a car swerved around the corner and hit right into you. Your head smacked against the wheel and you groaned in pain, pressing your fingertips to the place you felt blood oozing from.

“Shit, shit! Are you okay?” There was a girl banging on your window, whilst also turning back to the car and yelling at the boy behind the wheel.

“I’m fine,” you groaned, you didn’t feel fine. You felt dizzy and nauseous, your neck ached and your head hurt even worse.

“You’re bleeding pretty bad, let’s get you to the hospital and then we’ll deal with insurance.”

She drove you to the hospital in her car, leaving yours on the side of the road. She gave you her details and then left, leaving you alone in the chemically smelling place with blood covering your face. You got seen almost immediately, they needed to check for a concussion or brain damage. You did have a concussion, and you had to get stitches.

“Do you have anyone you can call, sweetheart?” The nurse asked you once she’d finished up.

“Yeah,” you nodded. You didn’t care that you were mad at JJ, you needed him right now. You pulled your phone out and dialled his number, praying he’d answer.

“Hello?” He sounded irritated, he’d probably put it on just to talk to you.

“JJ?” A wave of emotion hit you, your voice coming out shaky.

“Hey, you okay?” The irritation washed away, he sounded worried now. Worried and guilty; he probably thought you were crying over him, maybe you were.

“I’m— I’m in the hospital, can you come and get me,” you croaked out, wiping your tears with the back of your sleeve.

“What?” He exclaimed. You could hear him rustling about, presumably trying to find the keys to the Twinkie. “What’dya mean, baby? What happened?”

“I got in an accident,” you explained quietly. “A car came out of nowhere, I hit my head on the wheel.”

He cursed under his breath, the sound of the door slamming closed came through the phone as he ran outside the Chateau. You could hear the engine to the camper-van start up, spluttering to life.

“Gonna be there soon, alright sweetheart? Want me to stay on the phone?” He offered gently, although you could hear the anger in his voice that he was trying to hide.

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly.

JJ talked to you as he drove, telling you how much he loved you, how sorry he is for not being there with you. You weren’t really listening, to focused on the pain you felt in your head and the anxiety over being in the hospital. It didn’t take long for JJ to be walking into the room, a worried expression on his face as he knelt down in front of you and held your face gently in his hands.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted softly, eyes scanning the stitches just above your eyebrow. “How many did y’have to get?”

“A few,” you murmured, not wanting to talk about it anymore. “How bad does it look?”

He shook his head, giving you a reassuring smile. “Still hot as hell, baby. Don’t gotta worry about that.”

JJ spoke to the doctor, booking an appointment for you to come in and get your stitches out, and the two of you left. You complained about your car and having to go and get it, but he reassured you it would still be there in the morning; “the thing’s a piece of junk, no one’s gonna want to steal that.”

He took you to the Chateau, instantly dragging you into his bedroom before John B could see you and go protective-mode over the stitches. He figured that would just give you a headache, and that was the last thing you needed right now.

“C’mere, honey,” he murmured, opening his arms for you to crawl into. You wanted to be stubborn, continue with your fight and refuse, but you didn’t have the energy. You laid on his chest, his arms tightening around you. “I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I should’ve been there, if we weren’t in this stupid fight I would have.”

“It’s not your fault, Jayj,” you soothed, reaching up to stroke his messy hair.

“I’m really sorry, about the other night,” he said quietly, voice emotional. “I— I fucked up so bad, baby, I know I did. You mean everything to me, fuckin’ everything. If you want me to drop this whole thing, I will. I’ll tell John B I can’t be apart of it anymore.”

You forced yourself to sit up, his hands guiding you as if you were made of glass. “I never said I didn’t want you to do it, JJ. I just never get to see you anymore. I miss you, that’s all. I don’t get why you won’t let me be apart of it.”

“It’s dangerous—”

“You’ve said that. I don’t care if it’s dangerous, I want to join in. I want to be with you and your friends. I want to be apart of your life, not on the sidelines,” you explained, crossing your legs.

He hesitated, the room silent for a few moments before his arms wrapped around your waist and dragged you back into his arms. “Okay. Next time we go on another mission you can come. If you promise to stick by me.”

“Mission?” You snorted, earning a swat on the thigh.

“Shut up. I’m serious, promise me?” He urged, although a small smirk played on his lips.

“I promise,” you nodded, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Already got stitches, what’s a few more?”

“That’s not funny, dude!”

[princessbrunette]

what do we think rafe would be like during a road-trip?

˙✧˖° 🐏 ⋆｡˚꩜ 🪽

i don’t think you’d call him by his name the whole trip. it’s just dad. bc that’s exactly how he acts >:(

u have been begginggg for an actual roadtrip instead of just taking the jet or something so he finally obliges n hires out this top of the line camper van <33 he thinks it’ll be good for him ,, getting away from everyone and everything for a while to spend time on the road with his girl !!

does his fair share of complaining, esp at first — saying stuff like “jesus, what is this… got me actin’ like… a pogue or something.” but he won’t tolerate any complaints from u, giving your thigh a little smack n saying “hey, brat — m’doin’ all this fuckin’ driving for you. least you could do is be grateful. a’ight? now have a nap. s’not like i’m goin’ anywhere.”

he got one of those trucks that have three front seats so that you can sit right up next to his side n rest with your cheek on his arm, or lay curled across the two seats at his side. no matter how grumpy he is, he’ll put a gentle hand across you when you’re sleeping whenever he makes a hard brake so you don’t go sliding out the seat <33

definitely a sucker for road head, letting you lazily suckle at his tip whilst he steers on the open road, humming in pleasure when you take him further. “fuck, could get used to this shit baby. gonna wanna fuck that mouth everytime i drive from now on.”

very very serious about directions n tourist stops n maps, constantly checking over everything with a frown, patting his pockets down to make sure he’s got everything. he’ll tug you along to walk at his speed, buy you icecream to keep you quiet n obedient, dusting down your dress for you when you sleepily stumble along beside him after lunch, your boyfriend ridding of the crumbs that reside on you.

whenever you cross over into a new state he’s flashing that expensive smile, charming the officers who wanna search the van. not that there’s anything bad in there, just that he thinks it’s a waste of time to get searched. he doesn’t even bat an eyelid when you sleepily call him ‘dad’ infront of the officers, but the uniformed men certainly give you a bizarre look.

the two of you curl up in the pull out camper van bed each night because rafe’s not staying in some dirty motel ! if you get all restless at night, unable to sleep — rafe will sigh n manhandle your sleepy body til your knees are pressed to your chest and the bed is creaking, van rocking. “even now i gotta fuck the energy outta you, huh? better get some sleep after this kid, or you’ll be a fucking nightmare tomorrow i—i know it. don’t want that, do we? remember how dad got all mean on you today? we don’t need any of that tomorrow, alright?”

˙✧˖° 🐏 ⋆｡˚꩜ 🪽

[psychopathseraphim]

Hi :)

Can I suggest the mercs having a really bad day (maybe even crying) and their s/o comforting them.

The s/o can be female or gn :)

Sniper, Soldier and Engineer

Sniper, Soldier and Engineer seeking comfort

Hello, anon! Sorry if this is shitty— no proofread, and I’m writing this on a trainnnn…

Sniper

Not usually the type to express his emotions freely; worries that him venting could bother you… would probably keep whatever’s bothering him inside ‘til he bursts… or, well, ‘til he forgets about it

Today, however, was especially hard— trigger-finger kept messing him; aim was terribly messy; spies. All he needed was to let it out, and, frankly, he didn’t know how to

You just see your lover walk into his camper van, disheveled and obviously tense. He doesn’t say anything, just proceeds to sit down on the bed beside you with his hat off, looking towards the ground

When you ask him what’s up… 50/50 he’ll say nothing or he’ll explain in the smallest detail what went wrong about his day

You can read him pretty well, however, and every ‘discussion’ about his terrible day would end with him in your arms, or laying his head on your lap

You’d stroke his hair, telling him that he did a good job today, that everything was fine; he’d nuzzle his face into you and stay silent, enjoying the feeling of being pampered

“Yer too nice to me, roo…” he’d mutter, and you’d smile at him, continuing your ministrations— “well, that’s because you deserve it,” is what you always say; and it was nothing far from the truth

Eventually he’d fall asleep, but not before muttering an “I love ya, darl’…”

Soldier

Would probably be incredibly pent-up about the others not taking him seriously. Would come around to you and VERBALLY express himself

Due to his more-aggressive nature, Soldier would probably… feel things at higher extents; he’s easily angered and could easily cry

He would however suppress his desires to cry because ‘lashing out and being angry’ = masculine; ‘crying’ = feminine

If you do spot him crying, however, he would— no hesitation— wrap his arms around you and rack your frame while sobbing into your chest

When you ask him what’s wrong, he’d explain to you in incomprehensible English mixed with hysterical sobbing and a slight hyperventilation (ALL WHILE SCREAMING!)

Could possibly get mad at you… which will in the long run make him feel worse

“… AND NO ONE WAS FOLLOWING MY ORDERS TODAY!” He’d yell, gripping onto your sleeves even tighter

Just pet his head, reassure him that he’s not annoying, and he’ll be good to go

With enough reassurance and help, though, he’ll manage to calm down; instead falling asleep in fetal position and (possibly… possibly!) with his thumb in his mouth.

Engineer

Engie is a well-collected person… he knows how to handle his anger on his own; knows how to keep it to himself (not because he doesn’t want to burden other people, but he would prefer keeping quiet for this reason, but because he just doesn’t see any benefit in rambling)

If he feels himself getting stressed at something, he’ll turn to his work— he’ll program something to give him that boost of dopamine that he’s actually done something right!

If, however, his stresses come from his work— say, an error or malfunction he can’t crack the code of— then he doesn’t know what else to do; he can’t be useless, damn it; he can’t get things wrong!

Come into his workshop to check on him; if you see him with his head in his hands, approach him and massage his shoulders

Engineer would immediately melt into your touch; he’d let out a sigh of relief indicating his relaxation and lift up his goggles to look at you. With a dreamy, tired smile, he’d say: “hey there, pretty thing,”

You’d then try to pry him away from his workdesk… which, if he’s absolutely stressed, would work— take him to your shared room, cuddle with him, and he’ll be good to go

As for crying, Dell seems too collected for that; even if he wanted to, I believe he just can’t bring himself to— not a matter of his view on masculinity; he just can’t

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Weedequitte

Asks are open my little giggle biscuits!

Scout

He hands that joint back WET

Slobber dripping off the sides, the tips cold when you go to take a puff, and you can see the corner of his mouth glisten

If Scout ever got high he would have munchies and get scared. He would have to go outside and walk around, maybe even hug a tree for comfort

Coughing and gagging in the most annoying way possible. Like that one cat picture with its protruding tongue and watery eyes void of complex thought

Scout couldn’t handle a bong. Just couldn’t. Stick to a cold can of bang! He might try to make a bong outta a bang can, but he won’t figure it out

Soldier

Do not give him weed.

Do not give him anything.

Dont give him any drug hes insane nuts bonkers and, yes, even bananas

He took acid once by mistake. Ended up in Europe a year after the war ended

Soldier is borderline on a good day but king will spiral into a drug induced psychosis. There will be bugs, skin, and a whole lot of paperwork for Medic

Wouldn’t even smoke he’s a total fucking narc too

Says devils lettuce

Demoman

Uses every weed euphemism known to man

Mary J is his fav. Kush, grass, gas, doubie, all of them

Approaches Sniper while the poor bastard making his trek between camper and civilization. Demo does an insinuating chuckle and says, ‘let’s make love to that wee lass Mary J’

Sniper starts running

He prefers drinking but this guy smoked some grass back in the day. Doesn’t fuck around and can pass a blunt without falling out

In half baked, Demo is the guy who gets munchies and accidentally kills the horse

Will smoke with Sniper and always provides what he can or hits a curtesy role, but he doesn’t pursue weed much and if snipes didn’t share, probably wouldn’t smoke

It does help the pain from his missing eye!

Pyro

One time, he got wild.

Pyro burned down an entire pot grow and was absolutely spazzing off that za rolling his way down the mountain

They were on the astral plane the entire hike down. Pyro crashed through the trees, crawled, laughed hysterically, cried, and vomited. Pyro drank water from a creek thinking it was the fountain of immortality

Pyro befrinded a squirrle named Banabo Jo. He knew Jo and knew his people were wise and brave. Banabo Jo recognized Pyro’s mystical capabilities and ability to see beyond, thus creating a mutual respect and brotherhood.

Banabo Jo guided Pyro from the mountain top and into the Heart of the Valley. He watched over as Pyro awaited rescue and gave the sacred squirrel farewell through the van window

(hypersensitive to drug induced psychosis)

Heavy

Rolls a blunt on Medic’s back and smokes it while they fuck

Smokes weed but only pipes. Very rarely will roll with paper, typically in the aforementioned situation

He can do some of the smoke tricks like puffing out O’s. He cannot french inhale and tbh has a chronic stuffy nose 😏

Medic

Wholeheartedly believe in and support the usage of medical marijuana

Smoked a little weed in university, but his classmates were too scared of him to invite him to the smoke sesh

He kinda gives off narc vibes!! Completely chill though, unless he could gain from blackmailing you

Asks if Sniper wants to puff and Sniper is shocked! Medic uses pompous words like oder tho and not the German oder

Arches his back so Heavy can sprinkle some flower on him for the roll-hole ritual

Engineer

Scene in Top Gun, “we’re in the spirit world asshole!” HIM OKAY HIM

Builds intricate and sick as fuck bong structures, dab rigs, and some real crazy stoner shit.

He love getting blazed and tinker with something, but that did cost him the tip of his pinkie finger

He’s a lightweight and really just skims a hit or two and bounces

Totally hotboxes that fucking workshop

Spy

He’s a classy kind of smoker

No weed inside, at least not his house. Very discreet about it and even if he was just in the world’s foggiest hotbox, he would never snell like week

No weed smell ever it’s incredible

Mainly sticks to cigarettes but he will smoke with Sniper.

Smoking, whether it be weed or cigarettes, is a form of foreplay for them fr

He never has cotton mouth either

Sniper!!

Save the best for last bc he is a canon pothead

Sniper just tries to be a chill guy. Go to work, fire a gun, smoke some weed. Would he like more? Sure. But is he okay where he’s at? Good enough

The first to discover his gardening habit was Spy. The whole breaking and entering thing really gives away secrets

Sniper has SO MUCH TEA. Various team members come to him and smoke, which is cool with him. He prefers when they replenish his stash, though. Or at least give him something in return

When they smoke they also complain. Inhibitions are dropped and suddenly Sniper knows that Demo is pissed at Medic for not letting him drink rubbing alcohol, every though Demo knew it would kill him, because he and Pyro were trying to light a burp on fire

He only enjoys smoking with Spy and Ms. Pauling. Pauling is fun and they talk mad shit together, maybe do something stupid on a minor scale

Spy and Sniper venture into the bush if yk what im saying. Weed is just kinda a plus but Spy can get too zesty sometimes

[supernova41st]

Scent 🕯️

Tf2 mercs scents

A/n: I was gonna say something about Medic shaving but then I got flash banged by that one picture of him with the hairy chest.

Scout

He took the term “cologne king” and ran with it.

He puts on like 10 sprays of cologne every morning guys it’s bad

Tries to cover his sleep stank with cologne every morning but it’s very much there

He does use deodorant because he’s not THAT stinky (tho spy is the one who forces him to wear it)

“Scout, did you put on your axe this morning?”

“ughhhh I don’t wanna 😒”

Uses 2 in one because he’s lazy asf. He’ll only use the good stuff if it’s from spy.

He doesn’t rlly care for face care, he uses the same bar of soap he uses to wash his ass and it works fine surprisingly

His rooms smells kinda musky but it’s subtle,it mostly comes from his mattress that he’s been using since childhood (which he barely fits on)

Heavy

Have you’ve ever been inside the car of a guy who works out frequently? Yeah

He smells musky asf, he does sweat a lot so it makes sense!

He has a subtle Cinnamon smell to him, no one knows if it’s from something he uses or if it’s natural

If you ever give him a hug god rest your soul cuz all your gonna be huffing in that day is his scent.

Def uses Dr squatch deodorant cuz he’s classy like that. Wont use cologne unless it’s a gift from someone

Spy

You’ll never catch this man being stinky, EVER.

He uses the good shit, Le Male Elixir, showers every night, and every now and then has a Smokey scent to him.

Scout begs and begs for his cologne but he’s a gatekeeping king so he won’t budge.

“SPY PLEASE JUST GIMME THE NAME”

“Absolutely not.”

“CMON-SPY WHAT ARE THE TOP NOTES? WHERE DO YOU NORMALLY SHOP??”

His shampoo has no scent + he doesn’t really care for buying the expensive stuff cuz his hair is always covered anyways.

His skincare is pretty good, uses face wash serum and moisturizer. No anti-aging stuff tho, he personally thinks aging is a privilege.

Pyro

If you can smell these two photos, you’re smelling pyro

Medic

He just smells like a hospital, but when finishing a mission he smells like straight blood.

His hospital smell mostly comes from the latex gloves he has to wear, the blood smell is from surgery’s or brutally killing enemies. (Obv)

Definitely doesn’t mind getting blood on him, so if you complain about the smell to him he’ll shrug it off.

Cologne wise he’d use something minty, he’d only ever use it when going somewhere fancy. Other than that he sees no use for cologne.

He’s quite high maintenance, so he never stinks nor does he necessarily smell good. He just smells like.. medic.

Demoman

You’ve ever took a whiff of milk to check if it’s expired? Yeah.

Sorry but he does not gaf, there’s a puke stain on his shirt from like a week ago + he uses pretty cheap cologne.

Def uses Irish spring cuz I said so, it fits him.

Would have a sleep stink but getting a sleep stink would come from a bed, lord knows he’ll make it to his bed before passing out drunk.

He doesn’t shave, he uses child safe scissors to cut his beard 😭 someone help him.

Engineer

ITS BAD.

but it’s also like, hot?

He had that garage workshop scent, he’s also sweaty cuz of course he is. For god sakes he’s in his 50s and doing garage work he shouldn’t be doing that he should be sitting down and having a fucking glass of water.

No cologne for him, beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, that being all the sweat he collects from making shit he probably shouldn’t be making !!

Showers at night cuz that’s when he gets all the sweat off, he takes those piping hot showers that would burn off a normal persons skin off.

Sniper

He hangs around piss jars all day, I’ll let you do the rest.

No sleep, no cologne, just him. He just smells like rain and spoiled milk.

His camper van smell interesting to say the least, it’s not necessarily clean so it just smells like straight coffee, not the good kind.

He’s not that musty! He is quite hygienic.. in a way

He had a skincare routine, and spends half and hour in the shower cuz he ends up dozing off after a while <//3

He does NOT play about that skincare routine btw, if he sees a pimple he’s tracking down what he used to cause it.

Once he does he’ll use it as target practice lol

Soldier

This guy smells like 1000 things at once.

If you took a whiff of him he’d smell like straight dirt at first, but then it somehow transfers to a wet dog kind of smell, with a hint of oil.

*need a cologne of that

If you offer him deodorant/cologne he’ll deny it. He says that the way he smells is how god intended

His helmet smells FOULL, if you take the tiniest sniff you’re gonna pass out.

[canirove]

The invinsible princess | Chapter 7

“Like the title of that Beyoncé song said…”

Author's note: This is one of my favourite chapters, so I hope you like it as much as I do. And to the anon who sent me the loveliest message ever the other day... I'm still thinking about it, thank you very much 😭💜

Chapter 6 | Chapter 8

Masterlist

“I can't fucking feel my ass” I say while getting out of the camper van Pedri and I have rented for our road trip. 

“Sofía!” he gasps. “Those aren't words for a lady like yourself!”

“Oh, I beg for your forgiveness, my lord. Please allow me to rephrase it… Blimey!” I gasp, covering my mouth like women did in old movies. “I can't feel my lower back after being sat for the past two hours!”

“Much better. Thank you, my lady” Pedri says, doing a little curtsey. 

“My lord” I reply, doing the same before we both start laughing. Whoever sees us behaving like this at a petrol station, must think we are crazy. “Anyway, can you do me a favour before you start with that?” I ask him, nodding towards the van.

“Of course. What does the lady need?”

“I need to use the bathroom, but I don't want to go alone.”

“What?” Pedri laughs. 

“Yeah, I just… What if I'm doing my business and someone comes in and catches me there? I don't want to go online and see that a photo of myself sitting on the toilet has gone viral.”

After my first and so far only viral photo, the one with Charles Leclerc a few years ago, I've become a bit less invisible than what I was used to. Most people still pay more attention to my sister Leonor, but Carlos has had to stop paparazzis from taking photos of me and my aunt leaving work together more than once. 

“Ok, fine” Pedri sighs. “It is a bit weird to not have Carlos around, isn't it? He usually is the one who does these things.”

“It is, yes. But it was what we wanted, so” I shrug.

“I'm sure he still is keeping an eye on us somehow” Pedri says as we walk towards the back of the petrol station, where the bathroom is. “I can see him glued to his phone, checking the van’s GPS to make sure we are following the route we shared with him” he laughs. “He may have even set some microphones and cameras inside to make sure we are alive.”

“For his own sake, I hope he hasn't.”

“Because of what he may have heard last night, for example?” he smirks. 

“If you mean your snoring, then yes. But I was talking about you singing while driving.”

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Let's just say that becoming a singer isn't a career path you should follow once you retire from football.”

“So rude, my lady. So rude… And we've made it.”

“Aren't you going inside?”

“What?” Pedri chuckles.

“Yeah��� To make sure there is no one hiding or something.”

“Sofía, this petrol station isn't like the ones you see in American movies. Here they clean their bathrooms and there isn't a guy hiding behind a door ready to kidnap you and take you to his cabin in the woods.”

“Better safe than sorry” I shrug.

“Urgh, fine” he replies, rolling his eyes and walking into the bathroom. “It's empty, you can come in.”

“Did you check it properly?”

“Yes, I did. There is no one inside, and it is quite clean. Maybe not as much as those golden toilets you have at the palace where you can see your own reflection, but they are ok.”

“Idiot” I say, giving him a little push and making him laugh. “But thank you, Pedri.”

“Anything for you, my lady” he smiles.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I think we'll have enough with these snacks until we… Sofía? What are you doing?”

“Have you ever used one of these?” I say, looking at the machines outside the petrol station’s shop.

“Yeah. Who hasn't?” Pedri chuckles. “Oh. Sorry. You…”

“As a kid we often saw them when we were on holidays, but my mum never allowed Leonor and I to buy anything from them. She said they were just a stupid way to waste your money on useless stuff.”

“I mean, she's not wrong. But we used to have one at the bar in Tenerife, and just seeing the kids’ faces when the ball comes out of the machine and they open it to see which surprise they've gotten makes it worth it.”

“I guess...”

“Here, take this.”

“Why are you giving me these coins?”

“They are the change I got from buying our snacks” he says, nodding towards the bag in his hand. “You can use them on the machines.”

“What?”

“You just told me that you've always wanted to give them a go, haven't you? Then do it, Sofía. You are an adult now, your mum won't scold you for doing it” he chuckles.

“I… I… Thank you, Pedri” I say before wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him. 

“That's ok” he smiles. “C'mon, let's see what they have.”

The first machine is a Pokémon one, and each ball has a different figurine inside it. 

“What is that?” 

“Pedri, this is Charizard!”

“I'm only familiar with Pikachu” he shrugs.

“You… seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“And then I'm the weird one.”

“You aren't weird, Sofía” he says, kissing my cheek before I put another coin on the next machine. This one has just little teddy bears made of rubber. Very ugly teddy bears. “That smile they painted on him is kind of creepy, isn't it?” Pedri says when I open the ball I got.

“A bit, yes” I laugh, moving to the next machine. This one has little racing cars, and he is definitely way more excited about it than me. “This one is for you” I say, giving him one of the coins.

“For me?”

“For you” I smile. “I know you are dying to do it and see which car you will get.”

“I actually am, yes” he smiles back.

“But wait, let me get my phone and film you. I have the feeling this is going to be the cutest thing ever.”

“Everything I do is cute, my lady” he winks before crouching down in front of the machine, looking like a kid on Christmas morning when he opens the ball and sees the car inside it. “Now it is my turn to film you” he says once he has calmed down. 

“Me?”

“The last one has jewelry or something like that. And you like your jewels, my lady” he smirks.

“I do, yes” I reply, my hand instinctively moving to my necklace. To the banana charm, the S one, and the new addition: a P one he got me for my birthday last year.

“And? What is it?” Pedri asks me when I open the ball. 

“I think… oh.”

“That actually is quite nice, isn't it? Let me help you put it on.”

“What?” I chuckle.

“I have to practice for when it's time for the real one” he smirks, taking the ring from my hand and putting the phone on his pocket. Because the surprise on that last ball had been a ring, one that didn't look that bad for just 1€. “There you go. Perfect.”

“Though not as perfect as you” I say, wrapping my arms around his neck once again. “Thank you very much for this, Pedri.”

“For putting a ring on your finger?”

“For everything. From checking the bathroom to see if there was a murderer lurking in the shadows, to buying me my favourite chocolate bar without me asking for it, and for letting me experience this and go home with a very cool ring. The real one is gonna have to be a really cool ring to be better than this one” I say with a teasing smile.

“It isn't gonna be an easy task, no. But I'll do my best. Because for you, my lady… For you I would do anything.”

“Aww, Pedri…” I say, trying to not start crying in the middle of a petrol station. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sofía” he says before kissing me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ok, what happened.”

“Uh?”

“Pedri, you've been dating my sister for years and you know I love you like a brother” Leonor says. “But this is the first time we are having lunch together just the two of us without Sofía.”

“Then it was time we did it, don't you think?” he shrugs, focusing on his food.

“Pedri…” Leonor sighs. “What happened? Is everything ok between you two?”

“Yeah.”

“Then?”

“Then nothing.”

“Pedro!” Leonor says, raising her voice.

“God, you just sounded like your mum when she gets mad with your dad” he chuckles.

“Oh, this is not me being mad. Me being mad is something you don't want to see, so you better tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I…” he gulps. “I want to propose to Sofía.”

“No!” Leonor gasps, making Pedri thank everything for being alone in a private area of the restaurant. Because if they had been surrounded by people, all eyes would be in them after how loud that gasp had been. “You are going to do it?”

“Yeah” he says, nervously playing with his fork.

“How? When? Where?”

“I don't know yet. I actually decided it this morning.”

“What?”

“Yeah” Pedri says again. “I had just left my therapist's office, and it hit me: I was ready. I am ready to ask Sofía to marry me and to deal with everything that will come once it is made oficial.”

“Wow” Leonor says. “But do you think she is ready for it too? To stop being the invisible princess like she always says? Because this engagement is gonna be talked about worldwide. The princess and the football player! The fanfic that becomes a reality!” she chuckles.

“Has she shown you the ring she got during our road trip this summer?”

“The plastic one she loves so much?”

“The very same. When I gave it to her I told her it was practice for when I put the real one on her finger” Pedri says. “And since then, we've been talking a lot more about getting married, about how it will be, what will change, discussed it with our therapist… And I think she also is ready, that we both are on the same page.”

“Then it is happening. It's happening!” 

“Leonor, what are you…”

“What happened?” the queen says over the phone.

“Hello to you too, mum” Leonor replies, rolling her eyes.

“Hi, sorry. But what happened? Why are you calling me at lunch time?”

“Is dad with you?”

“Hello!” the king says. “Where are you, Leonor?”

“I'm in Barcelona, visiting Sofía.”

“Oh, is she there? Are you girls out together?” the king asks her.

“I'm out with someone, but not her. Pedri, say hello” she says, turning her phone so it faces him.

“I… Umm… Hello” he says with an awkward smile, hoping her parents can't see that he is blushing. Even though he has known them for years and shared many things with them, sometimes he still goes all shy when he remembers he is talking to the King and Queen of Spain.

“Oh, Pedri!” the queen says. “How are you? Everything ok?”

“Yes, perfect. Thank you for asking. And sorry for interrupting your lunch.”

“Oh, don't worry about that. What happened?”

“Uh?”

“Something must have happened for Leonor to call us and for you two to be having lunch together without Sofía” the queen says.

“Well… I… Umm” he mumbles.

“It's happening, mum” Leonor says, moving the phone so it is facing her again. “He's doing it!”

“He is doing what?” the king asks. 

“He is going to ask Sofía to marry him!”

“No!” the queen gasps as loudly as Leonor earlier. Maybe even louder. “You better not be messing with us.”

“I’m not, mum. I swear. Pedri, tell them” she says, turning her phone again. 

“I… Ummm… Yeah. It's true” he says. “I want to ask Sofía to marry me.”

“He's doing it! He is doing it!” the queen screams.

“I heard you, darling” the king chuckles. 

“Our baby is getting married!”

“First she has to say yes” he chuckles again. “And I have to give Pedri my blessing too.”

“Oh, please” she says, rolling her eyes. “You don't need to do that. It is just a formality, not something you actually have to do, and we live in the 21st century, not the middle ages. Besides, we all know you love him like the son you never had. You are as happy as I am about this. Maybe even more.”

“I am, yes” he smiles. “And even if you don't need it, you have my blessing, Pedri.”

“Thank you, sir” he replies.

“Now, details” the queen says. “Have you chosen a ring? Do you know where you are going to propose? And when? Because we have a trip to South America coming soon and…”

“Mum, relax” Leonor chuckles.

“Sorry, I'm sorry. I am just so happy for them!”

“We can tell, darling” the king says. “But tell us, Pedri. Have you thought of anything?”

“I have not, no” he says. “I was hoping that you and Leonor could help me, because I don't know where to start. I mean, I have some ideas about where I could do it, but the ring? She likes jewellery so much and each piece she owns is so different that I don't know what she could like. And maybe there is like some tradition to follow? A ring to pass from one generation to another? I don't know.”

“I think I have an idea” the king says.

“You?” the queen says, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes, me. Has she ever told you about her favourite painting?”

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“I can't believe you managed to close an entire museum to celebrate our anniversary.”

“Perks of being your grandmother's favourite” Pedri winks. “And this is your museum too.”

“What?”

“Reina Sofía?”

“Pedri, this museum was named after my grandmother, not me. We may share the same name, but I've never been and never will be queen.”

“You are the queen of my heart, tho” he smirks.

“Oh… my God” I laugh, my voice echoing on the empty corridors. Or almost empty since I know Carlos is keeping an eye on us from somewhere.

“What? It is the truth” Pedri says before making me twirl and pulling me against his body. “Have I told you yet that you look beautiful tonight?”

“You have, yes” I say, wrapping my hands around his neck while he starts to slowly rock us from side to side. 

We are dancing to no music in the middle of a museum, surronded by art and history eveywhere, and it is… It is the most romantic thing ever.

“Well, you look so beautiful that I have to say it many times so it is accurate.”

“Like me telling you that I love you many times per day and still not being enough to show how much I love you?”

“Exactly” he smiles before making me twirl again. “Should we continue with our tour?”

“I like it here.”

“But I don't like that guy in that painting. It's like he is judging us.”

“If he can read minds, he probably is judging me.”

“You? Why? What is that pretty head of yours thinking about?”

“This pretty head…” I say, moving closer so only he can hear me. “Is thinking about all the things she wants to do to you, and all the things she wants you to do to her once we are alone.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Yep” I smile. “Though that king should not judge me too much since history books say he had like ten lovers and more than twenty bastards besides the five kids with his wife.”

“Really?”

“I mean, the legitimate kids definitely were five, there are records of it. The lovers and the bastards depend on the historian you ask. But everyone agrees on him not being the most faithful of husbands. He was married to one of the most extraordinary women in our history, and he treated her like shit despite being the one who was keeping the kingdom from falling apart while he was hunting, partying and getting drunk with his friends.”

“You aren't his biggest fan, are you?” Pedri chuckles. 

“I am not, no.”

“But you do like his wife.”

“She is one of my favourite historical figures” I smile. “There actually is a painting of her here at the museum that is one of my favourites. Do you want to see it?���

“Of course” he smiles back. “Lead the way, my lady.”

“My lord” I giggle when he takes my hand on his and kisses it.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“She was beautiful.”

“She was, wasn't she?” I say while Pedri and I look at the painting in front of us. “And this is just a painting, so you can imagine how striking she must have been in real life. But she was more than just a pretty face. She was one of the most intelligent women of her time, and like I told you, the country didn't go to hell thanks to her.”

“So she basically was like you, but you have a faithful husband” Pedri winks.

“Oh, shut up” I laugh, giving him a little push. “First of all, you aren't my husband.”

“Yet” he smirks.

“And second, I've done nothing compared to everything she did.”

“Don’t say that, Sofía. You are helping people daily, making them happy and giving them hope, and I still haven't heard anyone complaining about it. And I'm talking about the people that matter, not the trolls online.”

“Yeah, I guess…” I sigh. 

“And if you don't believe me when I tell you that you are alike, just look at all the jewels she's wearing and the ones you are wearing right now. You are only missing the crown!”

“You know, I may like wearing so many things because of her” I chuckle.

“How so?”

“Even though I've always complained about my parents paying more attention to Leonor than me, there was a moment each month where I felt like that wasn't the case, and that was when my dad would bring me here to have something like a date just the two of us. We would visit a different part of the museum each time, but we would always come here and visit her, my dad always telling me something new about her. So I think I like jewellery so much because of all those hours I've spent looking at her and analysing every detail on this painting.”

“So like people say these days, you were influenced by her.”

“Exactly” I laugh.

“Do you have a favourite piece of jewellery she wears? Like one you wish you could have and wear every day if it was possible.”

“That ring” I say, pointing at it. 

“Wow, that was fast” Pedri chuckles.

“I've been obsessed with it since the first time I saw it for some reason. But unlike other pieces like the crown or the earrings, that one went missing. Some say she asked to be buried with it since it was a gift from the love of her life. And no, that wasn't the king.”

“So it was like… an engagement ring?”

“Something like that, yes” I say. “It was a ring that symbolised the love she and that man she loved so much had. A true and pure love that would last forever.”

“Like ours, then” Pedri smiles, kissing my hand again.

“Like ours, yes” I smile back. 

“One that we should also probably… seal, somehow.”

“What?”

“Sofía…” Pedri says, letting go of my hand to pick something that was hiding behind one of the benches on the room. A little box. A… wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Is that… Is he… “We always joke about me being the cheesy one in our relationship, but the truth is that when I have to actually be like that and put into words what I feel for you… What you make me feel… Well, I suck” he chuckles. “You actually are the one who has a way with words, the one who can properly express those feelings, not me. So since they say actions are louder than words, that's what I am going to do.”

“Pedri…” I whisper as he gets down on one knee. He's doing it. He is actually doing it, he… Holy shit.

“Sofía… my lady” he says with that smirk that he knows I love, the one I fell in love with the moment I first saw it years ago in Germany. “Would you marry me?”

“Pedri!” I gasp when I see the ring inside the little box. “Is that… is it…”

“We didn't desecrate any grave, don't worry” he chuckles. “This is a new ring, a copy of that one you love so much.”

“But I just told you about it! How did you…”

“Your dad” he smiles. “I didn't know which type of ring you would like because you like different styles, so I asked Leonor and your parents, and he mentioned this ring and this painting you've always been obsessed with.”

“So coming here tonight was my dad's idea?”

“That was all me, he just gave me the inspiration I needed. Going to museums has always been one of our favourite things to do together, this one has your name even if it wasn't named after you, it has your favourite painting of one of your favourite people, and the ring was inspired by it, so I thought it was the perfect place to ask you a question you haven't answered yet.”

“Uh?”

“I asked you a question, Sofía. Remember?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Yes.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, I want to marry you, Pedri.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” I laugh. 

“Great, cool… Cool” he chuckles, his hand shaking as he takes the ring from the little box and takes mine. 

“You know how to do it, Pedri. You already did it once” I tease him, showing him the plastic ring on the other hand.

“I know. But this is the real deal, you know?”

“I know. And I love it.”

“Do you?” he says once the ring is on my finger, his thumb caressing my hand while still holding it.

“I do. I love it almost as much as I love you.”

“Almost?”

“Almost, yes. Because it is impossible to love anything more than I love you, Pedri.”

“I love you too, Sofía. Or should I say…” he says as he wraps one arm around my waist and leans me back like they do in movies. “Fiancée?”

“You should… fiancé” I smirk before he kisses me. “Did you hear that noise?” I whisper when we break apart.

“What?” 

“There is something… Carlos?” I call.

“Sorry, ma'am.”

“Carlos, are you crying?”

“I… I am, ma'am” he says, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “It's just… you are getting married.”

“I am, yes” I smile, showing him the ring. 

“It's beautiful, ma'am. You look beautiful. Like, you should see your smile right now. It is the most beautiful smile I've ever seen.”

“Aww, Carlos” I say before hugging him and starting to cry too.

“I'm so happy for you, ma'am. For both of you” he says, awkwardly ending our embrace. 

“Thank you, Carlos” Pedri smiles. “We wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of you, you know? If you hadn't allowed Sofía to leave the Euros party…”

“Yeah” he chuckles. “Though I almost ruined it all when I heard your friends talking and I thought you were only interested in her because of a bet.”

“I actually think that misunderstanding is the reason why we are here” I say.

“What?”

“I don't know if without it Pedri would have been brave enough to tell me that he had had a crush on me for years” I say while giving him a teasing smile, his cheeks turning bright red. “Him being so open and honest with me just after we had met, somehow made me trust him and see that he wasn't like the other guys I had dated. That there were no secret intentions. So thank you, Carlos. And we are sorry for everything you've had to see and deal with over the years.”

“It's ok, ma'am. Just doing my job” he smiles. “Would you like to see the photos I've taken?”

“Photos? What photos?” 

“Carlos may have been our personal photographer and videographer during the night” Pedri says.

“What?”

“I wanted to remember tonight, and basically everyone in your family would kill me if there was no proof of what happened” he shrugs.

“That's… true, yes. Thank you” I say, kissing his cheek. “And thank you again, Carlos.”

“Ma'am” he replies, giving me his phone to check everything. From the sneaky photos he's taken of us smiling at each other throughout the museum, kissing or dancing together, to the video of Pedri getting on one knee and asking me to marry him. Because it happend, it was real. 

Pedri and I are getting married. 

[marigold-hills]

june 29: blooming and June 30: camper | @wolfstarmicrofic | word count: 1009

PREVIOUS PART • FIRST PART

June, some years later.

There are lines in the stones like fingerprints, swirling into a pattern too ancient to be understood. Something carved into it, unique to it and yet connecting it with countless others just like it.

You are you, but you are of us.

Remus is cataloguing the lines, tracing them onto parchment. He stands in a bloom of flowers, careful around the blossoms not to trample them but helpless to do just that, the stone unreachable on any beaten track.

It’s the third day of their, Remus and Sirius’, stay in Brú na Bóinne. The land cradled into the arm of the river had welcomed them with unusual heat, cessation of the hostile rain which has been battering it for the previous month, and an explosion of greenery. As if the land knew: a man comes and he is a part of us, and here to study us. Show him the best parts.

Sirius can understand. He’s no stranger to making himself pretty to get his Moony’s approval.

It’s been long in the making, this trip of theirs. Endless research proposals and grant applications that Remus had to submit, then even more scrutiny on account of his status. Then, oxymoronically, a back and forth on Sirius’ involvement: a highly trained curse breaker to oversee “the werewolf professor” was welcome, but another pair of hands and eyes and feet at the sacred prehistoric site was most definitely not.

Still, somehow, it worked. They had jumped in their camper van and set out for Ireland.

“Time for lunch, Moons!” Sirius calls from under the canopy they’ve set up next to the van.

Remus, loose sleeves of a linen shirt folded to show his arms, leather suspenders holding up his trousers, looks like an academic wet dream. His hair has grown out a bit recently and now the curls fall softly over his forehead.

“You’ve forgotten your hat again,” Sirius admonishes when he gets under the canopy they set up by the van, two chairs and a small table set up with bread and cheeses. “It’s too hot for you to go around without cover.”

“Stop fussing,” Remus bats his hand away, “I’m fine.”

“My one purpose here is to take care of you. I have paperwork to show for it. Want to see? No? So let me do my job,” Sirius grins as they sit to eat.

“You’re enjoying this way too much, love. And don’t pretend like you need paperwork to be a fusspot. Never stopped you before.”

“Got me there.”

Sirius pulls a bottle of white wine from the enchanted cooler by his feet, summons two glasses.

“Drinking on the job?” Remus raises an eyebrow in mock outrage, “how scandalous.”

“You know me, always ready to bend the rules.”

Remus hummus happily and plucks away at the assortment of cheeses. The wine is crisp, faintly tasting of apricot. The grass around them is blooming daisies, the scent fresh. Sirius puts his hair up with his wand.

“I’ll never forget that you came here with me,” Remus says with a far away vice. “I’m so thankful to have you by my side. This… you know how much of a dream this has been.”

“Hold onto that thought, darling, please,” Sirius says, standing up. He was worried how to steer the conversation and here is his Moony, providing the perfect segue.

The cord is in a neat little package in his pocket, so he pulls it out and sets in front of Remus, by the plate of cheese and the bowl of olives.

“What’s this?”

“Open it.”

Remus does. It takes a moment, Sirius can see, for it to register, then he touches the cord with reverent, shaky fingers. “Really?” He asks, like it’s a surprise, like he doesn’t know the extent of Sirius’ devotion to him, to them.

“You don’t have to say yes straight away. It’s the anniversary today, of when you waited for me, and I will wait for you as long as it takes. But I’m ready. So if you’ll have me…”

“My love. My star,” Remus stands up, holding onto the cord so tightly his knuckles turn white. “Yes. Yes now and yes forever.”

And Sirius was pretty sure, but still… hearing the response breaks something fragile inside of him right open. “Really?”

“Of course. Always. Mo réalta,” Remus holds his face between shaky hands, cord still in between fingers, “you are the most important part of my life.”

***

They have the ceremony the same evening, just the two of them. Barefoot, standing ankle-deep in the waters of the Bóinne. It’s cool, calm. Laps at their skin like an embrace or like a welcoming.

The sun has set. The crickets are singing. Sirius had enchanted lanterns to float around them, and disillusioned the area against wandering muggles.

Their left hands are clasped, fingers intertwined.

There are tears in Remus’ eyes as he speaks. His accent more pronounced with the emotion.

“Ye are Blood of my Blood, and Bone of my Bone. I give ye my Body, that we Two might be One. I give ye my Spirit, ’til our Life shall be Done.”

He wraps his end of the cord around their joint hands. Sirius can feel the bond blossoming, blooming through him like molten honey. He responds.

“You are blood of my blood, and bone of my bone.” The incantation sounds different in his southern english voice, but he can feel it working nonetheless, a link between himself and Remus, between the both of them and the Irish soil. “I give you my body, that we two might be one. I give you my spirit, till our life shall be done.”

The cord glows a soft gold when Sirius finishes wrapping up his end. They reach their right hands across, over the joining, and the cord tightens and dissolves. Sirius can feel it just the same, over his hand and over his heart.

“Mine, now,” his Moony says, closing the distance between them.

“Always.”

He kisses him under the waxing moon.

NOTES

I cried

decided to put the last two into one epilogue because breaking them up just didn’t seem right

thank you SO MUCH to everyone that followed, and especially: @hoje--aqui @moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash and @sweetstarryskies you guys are the absolute best and properly fuelled the writing for this one with all the lovely comments. I honestly did not expect such a lovely response when I decided to start this project so it was just heart warming :):) thank you

as it turns out I’ve been doing tagging wrong (showing my age here) so if anyone has asked to be tagged and wasn’t I’m very sorry

Read on AO3 here

for the last time:

@moon-girl88 @digital-kam @tealeavesandtrash @sweetstarryskies @alltoounwellll

@hunnybeemarie @hoje--aqui @annaliza999 @hihimissamericanbi @gipitothefrog

@shamelesswolfstarshipper @a-pine-cone @cosmicweeds @cocoabutterandbooks

@bloodoffire @residentdisaster @shamelesswolfstarshipper @ravenwordss

@prancingpony42 @themoonlovesthestars @starving-marauder-lover @weirdtinkerbellversion

@deadcupcakehere @theprettieststarfr @dumbass-gryffindor1960

[bambheez]

tonight is for the two of us (l.hs)

SUMMARY: two lonely people who find comfort in each other’s presence for one night. PAIRING: heeseung x reader GENRE: angst, smut WARNINGS: mentions of character death, grief, depression, insomnia, child and domestic abuse, alcoholism, profanity, light smut WORD COUNT: 5.8k A/N: the way this entire thing screams verbosity but that’s just my style so pls forgive me lol… obviously this is different from what I’ve posted so far in that there’s actual plot and it’s somewhat dark (so please read the long ass list of warnings before you proceed). you can also listen to the PLAYLIST for this story (I am in love with all of these songs)! as always, reblogs/comments/feedback are especially appreciated! :)

Your clammy hands were gripping the steering wheel to the point where your dashboard lights illuminated the whites of your knuckles. As you made your way up the windy roads to the lookout point, void of any streetlamps and relying on your high beams on blast, you were silently thankful for the lack of cars trailing behind you or driving toward you in the opposite direction.

Had you done your research beforehand instead of simply plugging the address into your phone, perhaps you wouldn’t have embarked on this hour-long journey to go stargazing with your colleagues. You suggested carpooling to no avail, having to face your absurd fear of driving not only at night but also on sketchy, unfamiliar roads. 

A slight crane of your neck to the right brought you a view of the city’s skyline in the distance, a hazy glow amidst a sea of black, and you wished you could teleport back to the comfort of the bright, bustling city. The mere thought of having to drive back down this same path later had you letting out a deep groan. 

A sudden interjection of your phone’s navigation app announcing that you were arriving at your destination in 100 feet caused you to whip your head back in focus, scanning the parking lot as you approached the top of the mountain. 

Your car was the only one in the vicinity, save for a camper van with none of its lights on, looking particularly worn-down and deserted. You parked in a random empty spot, unplugging your phone from its charging port before stepping out into the brisk air. Spotting a bench near the lookout point, you took long strides up across the parking lot and up the hill, plopping down to sit and fishing your phone out of your pocket to check your notifications.

You were surprised to find an empty home screen, expecting a “sorry, we’ll be a few minutes late” in your group chat seeing as it was over ten minutes past the time you were meant to arrive. You dialed the number of the coworker who invited you and you heard her voice come onto the line after three long rings.

“Hey! What’s up?” she was nearly screaming over sounds of at least a dozen other people talking.

“What’s your ETA?” you were muttering, already having a bad feeling of what she was about to say.

“H-huh? Oh, it’s supposed to rain tonight, so we canceled! Sorry, I thought we told y–” you were tearing the phone away from the side of your face and hanging up before she could finish her sentence. 

A miserable chuckle escaped your mouth as you took note of the thick clouds hanging over the sky and brought your feet up on the bench, hugging your knees and resting your back against the wood. You weren’t sure why you expected anything else. 

You thought perhaps moving across the country to a big city would put an end to the dread of a thousand tomorrows, none of them promising any semblance of change, but the truth was you never felt more alone than when you were standing in the midst of a busy crowd surrounded by towering skyscrapers and blinding lights—a single drop in the ocean.

There was no way to describe it other than a vice on your heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant, dull ache. A black hole that threatened to swallow every part of you until all that was left was a human shaped shell, too numb to feel the pain anymore.

There were nights you unwillingly let it control you, and all you could do in those long hours was find an enclosed place to shake until the tears subsided. The vast, open darkness in front of you made you wonder just how many people were out there feeling the same way you did. 

Some old acquaintances had promised to stay in touch, yet what you heard from them was comparable to radio silence, their smiles and efforts merely pixelated and small yellow faces that stopped coming whenever your world fell apart—which was often.

Trudging to get past each day made you realize just how much of your world had revolved around one person—one last connection with a life that used to be. You couldn’t tell her when your local tea shop came out with her favorite lychee drink, when you listened to a song that reminded you of her, how you saw someone on the subway reading a book she had recommended you, or how you overheard a couple arguing over the proper way to load a dishwasher, the very thing you had repeatedly bickered about as college roommates. 

And now that she was no longer in this life, you were constantly questioning your purpose, even occasionally wondering if you were meant to be alone. Was this what the universe had planned for you? You weren’t sure you believed in multiple soulmates, so what happened when yours left you?

If you miss me, just look at the stars. She would always sign the text with a ‘;)’ at the end and you would mock her with a scoff, replying with or I could just call you, dumbass. 

Without realizing, you were already bringing up your history of text messages with her, scrolling through the endless one-sided green texts, each decorated with a delivery error message. Your fingers were hovering over the keyboard while the pulsing blue line stared back at you.

“Where are you?” you were wailing out, wincing subsequently at the unexpected echo and crack in your voice. The thundering in the distance seemed to answer you, but you wished the stars were out so that you’d at least know she was watching over you. You couldn’t help but feel that the cloudy skies meant she couldn’t see you, or worse, look out for you. A droplet landed on your cheek and your eyelids fluttered shut at the feeling. You weren’t sure if they were your tears or hers.

It was the end of the week and you somehow found yourself making your way up the mountainous roads again, remembering coming home last time with extraordinary peace of mind despite the frazzled state you arrived in. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was pushing you to get out of the city once again. 

The air was noticeably cooler than it had been last week, and you were scanning your backseat for any signs of a sweater, sighing inwardly when you found none. It was warm when you left your office earlier in the evening and you mentally cursed at yourself for not checking the weather yet again. 

You contemplated staying in the car with the heat on, but a glimpse of your glowing fuel light had you rolling your eyes in disappointment for being so forgetful and inattentive on top of the countless other flaws you felt you carried. 

You were making your way toward the empty bench again, spotting the camper van in the same parking spot. You assumed it hadn’t moved since the last time you were here, most likely having been abandoned. There were considerably fewer clouds in the sky today and you beamed at the view of the small specks of white splattered against the darkness.

“Give me a sign that it’ll all be okay, please,” you spoke while eyeing the stars above you, some brighter than others. Your hair flew in the wind, draping across your face as goosebumps formed on your arms as you prepared to let the rest of your thoughts out. You didn’t remember closing your eyes, but the sound of footsteps approaching had you instinctively opening them and straightening your back and you suddenly felt a weight on your shoulders, gasping to find someone draping their flannel jacket over you.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he spoke against the wind. “You seemed cold.” A boy, now in a plain black shirt, was making his way around the other side of the bench to sit down next to you. He left considerable space between the two of you, which you were silently thankful for. 

You spun around to see where he had parked, not having noticed another car arrive and when you saw nothing but your own car and the camper van, you felt a chill run down your spine. Alarm bells should’ve been going off in your head, but you were seemingly more concerned with the fact that he had most likely seen you in your most vulnerable state, crying out into the open void like a lunatic, not only once, but twice now.

When he felt you staring, he turned his head only to briefly make eye contact with you before glancing back down at his lap. His skin was a pretty shade of olive, the tip of his nose illuminated by the hazy moonlight. You took in the rest of his appearance—worn sneakers with one of the laces untied, ripped jeans, and shaggy hair that covered his eyes, and you found yourself resisting the urge to run your fingers through his locks.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he was asking, picking his head up once more to look at you.

You weren’t so sure yourself. Maybe it was the fact that this was the only place where you didn’t have to pretend. You didn’t know if you wanted to talk to her, to yourself, or to the universe in general; you didn’t know if you wanted to scream or cry or sit in complete silence. All you knew was that after a particularly bad day at work, you were taking the exit off the highway without thinking, almost as if you had taken this same exit a hundred times before.

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckled. There was an awkward pause, and you were realizing that he wasn’t going to answer you.

“I’m here to u-uh, stargaze.” You were telling the truth, at least partially. 

“Stargazing’s not the best here, with the light pollution and all,” he replied. You hummed, unsure how to respond. He noticed your hesitation and was rubbing his palms against the black denim of his jeans before clearing his throat. 

“‘m Heeseung, by the way.” At first, Heeseung found himself slightly annoyed at the fact that you had disrupted his peace and not-so-secret hideout spot, observing you from his van while you mumbled to yourself on the bench. 

“I travel in my van, but ‘m running low on money.” He was rubbing the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed to admit the fact. “The parking here’s free, so…” he trailed off, regretting it immediately after stating the obvious. 

As he got a better look at your face up close, he saw that a small frown seemed semi-permanently etched on your face, which he could tell you were hopelessly attempting to correct as he studied you. A wave of guilt washed over him upon registration of his untimely intrusion, realizing that you would probably prefer to be alone right now due to the blatant evidence that you were pretending to look less dejected in front of him. 

You were briefly introducing yourself as someone new to the city, not knowing what else was interesting about you and accidentally slipping in the fact that you ‘didn’t really have any friends’, teeth chattering slightly even with his jacket resting over your frame. 

“Did you want to sit in my van instead?” Your frown was faltering when your lips parted in surprise at his request. He contemplated adding a lighthearted comment about not being a serial killer to reassure you, but you were already trailing behind him as he stood up. You could tell he was tall when his legs were stretched out next to yours while sat next on the bench, but he was even taller than you’d imagined when he was standing up, even with a slight hunch in his posture. 

Heeseung peered over his shoulder to catch you struggling to keep up with his longer strides, still clutching onto the collar of his jacket over your right shoulder and he let a soft smile adorn his face as he slowed his pace to match yours. He was rounding the front of his van to open the passenger side door for you but you were already cutting in front of him, hopping up on the door sill clumsily.

You let yourself into the passenger side, holding the jacket out to Heeseung who was still staring at you through the driver side window. He opened the door and pulled himself into the seat, reluctantly taking the jacket from you and tossing it on some unknown surface of the van behind him. 

He turned on the ceiling light of his van and began blasting the heat after noticing that you were sitting on the backs of your hands. His fingers were fiddling with the knobs on the CD player to turn on soft, lullaby-like piano music and you made a poor attempt at stifling a laugh. For some reason, you expected him to be into rock music and found the unexpected contrast endearing. 

Heeseung shot you a confused look at the sound and you simply shook your head and waved it off, a small smile still playing on your lips. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, but you felt a strange sense of comfort in his presence.

For the first time that night, you were taking a closer look at his features. Underneath his bangs were eyes that carried both fervor and innocence and lips that were held in a constant, soft pout. He was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes darting around the space in front of him at the feeling of you staring at him so intently. He shook his head so that his bangs were falling over his eyes again in one swift movement before thinking of something to say to take your attention off his face.

“I dropped out of college when I was 18,” he was muttering, trying to gauge your reaction from his peripheral view before continuing. “And then I ran away from home to travel.” He was leaving out key details like the fact that he didn’t necessarily run away from home with the goal of traveling but instead began traveling because he simply had nowhere else to go. 

When he came home after his first semester with an official diagnosis from his university’s health center, his family refused to let him seek therapy or any other form of help. With a father who was never home and a mother who went as far as threatening to disown him if he didn’t return to school the following semester, Heeseung wasn’t left with much of a choice. 

You were surprised that he was even sharing this much with you. Your heart tightened at the thought of him being alone in the world at such a young age and his lack of a support system, seemingly more alone than you were. He was considerably better than you at concealing his loneliness and you hated that fact, not because you wanted to be better at it but because you knew just how much effort it took. 

Heeseung could barely remember what it was like to have his father around, the only seemingly harmonious moments spent with him before he started grade school fleeting and long forgotten. The bulk of his adolescence was spent resenting his father for the way he treated his mother, where his father would appear through the front door every few months or so in one of his drunken episodes, an empty bottle of liquor already in hand.

He almost always knew when it was happening, the rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for alcohol reverberating through the house and to his room. He couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t stop restocking the house with it or why she wouldn’t change the locks or take his father’s keys or even file for a divorce, and he couldn’t help but despise her weakness and inability to stop pitying her husband.

“Look who decided to finally show up for his mother,” the older man seethed, breath reeking from the drunken stench.

A particularly loud argument had Heeseung flying down the stairs, the sound of a glass bottle breaking causing his mother to let a scream out of her mouth. He took in his father’s appearance, unshaven and eyes bloodshot with a lazy smirk playing on his lips. A look off to the side at his mother with tears streaming down her cheeks was suddenly leading to punches being thrown and knuckles growing bloodied. A harsh shove from his father caused him to lose his balance and tumble onto the wooden floor.

“Maybe ask yourself why you’re defending a fucking cheater instead,” his voice boomed through the living room. A puzzled expression took over Heeseung’s face as he turned toward his mother who winced both at the sound of her husband slamming the door as he left and the way her son ran his tongue over his busted lip, eyes beginning to gloss over.

After finally grasping the fact that his mother was not the person she made herself out to be and what pushed his father over the edge over ten years ago, Heeseung, who had always stuck close to her growing up, attempting to make up for the lack of his father’s presence, began growing increasingly distant from her as he finished his final years of high school. The very thing he swore he wouldn’t touch in his life was the only thing he took with him and stashed in his van the night he left.

He was wrapping his hand around the nearly empty beer can in his cup holder from the thought of his childhood memories and shooting a pained expression your way at the paled look on your face, eyes pooling with concern and he tried to perceive it as anything but pity.

“I honestly don’t mind it much,” he was saying, but an unfamiliar look was flashing across his eyes and even though you barely knew him, you felt like you could see right through him.

He was redirecting his gaze out the windshield. He had used the North Star almost as a source of direction in his travels for the past few years, as cliche as it sounded. Tonight was the first night it was visible in the two weeks he had been parked here, deciding to camp out in the deserted park until it reappeared and he had saved enough money from his part-time job in the city. 

The North Star appeared noticeably brighter tonight, a beacon in the middle of the night shrouded in shadows and Heeseung was suddenly wondering whether it was a coincidence that you were here with him at this very moment, whether you were the very person who hung the North Star for him in the night sky, guiding him toward a purposeful destination, or whether you were the destination itself. He was shaking his head at the intrusive thought as you followed his line of sight.

The heat blowing throughout the van was fogging up the windows and blocking up your view of what he seemed to be focusing his gaze on. Heeseung watched as you turned in your seat, moving your body to face the passenger window with one leg folded up on the cushion. You were bringing your fingers up to touch the glass, slowly drawing a heart with your index finger and peering through the clear traces at the sky.

Heeseung, nowhere near intoxicated from his built up tolerance over the years, took one last sip of his drink, still not taking his eyes away from your side profile and subtle movements as you immersed yourself in your own world for the second time that night. He was turning to his own window to mirror your actions, outlining a much sloppier heart on the glass. By the time he finished and spun around to face you, you were already watching him with a beam, the apples of your cheeks rosy. 

You were suddenly bursting into laughter, your brain on autopilot as you leaned over the center console to fix his drawing. You were practically pushed up against him with your hand resting on his thigh as you drew over his sketch on the window, adding a dozen more hearts around the first and filling up the rest of the fogged glass with your doodles. Heeseung was noticeably stiffening under you, attempting to distract himself from his quickening heart rate by picking at the fraying of his jeans on the leg you weren’t perched on.

You leaned back to admire your silly artwork for a few seconds before glancing over at him and noticing Heeseung’s eyelashes fluttering delicately, still reeling from the sudden physical contact. Upon noticing the close proximity, you were removing your hand from his lap and bringing it back into your own, leaning into the seat again and you could feel the heat evident on your face, knowing it must’ve been even more apparent to him. He was no better at concealing his own expressions as his sheepish smile faltered, feeling abnormally disappointed in the sudden loss of contact.

Still in a daze, Heeseung was reaching behind him to grab a can of beer, holding it out in front of you while his eyes were trained on the single heart drawn on the passenger side window. He held back a grimace as he realized that he’d done so without thinking, hoping you hadn’t caught on to his dependency. You accepted his offer without hesitation, wiping the rim of the opening with the bottom of your shirt and popping open the tab, taking gulps at a much faster speed than you were normally used to.

Your head was still spinning with the thought and feeling of the burn of your fingertips against his thigh. You both drifted into a comfortable silence, the music no longer playing since the CD player in his rundown van didn’t have the ability to auto loop tracks or albums and the hammering of his heart against his chest seemed almost too loud for you not to notice. Heeseung thought about taking out the disk and replacing it but decided against it, not wanting to disrupt the stillness of the air around you. 

Your lips formed a small frown as you saw clouds beginning to shape. You thought it was the alcohol deceiving you, but you blinked a few times and the clouds were still there. 

“I hate the rain because it means I can’t see her. It makes me think that she’s crying,” you suddenly whispered, breaking the silence. You could feel his gaze fall to you as he fell out of his trance, but he didn’t ask who, just simply nodded. 

His reaction made you freeze in your spot, realizing you had most definitely overshared beyond an imaginary boundary. You almost wanted to apologize for it before you were saying the next thing that came to your mind. 

“Have you ever fallen in love?” you were abruptly blurting out.

He was quirking his brow in amusement. “Come on, I can barely fall asleep,” he laughed softly but not without a somewhat pained expression behind his eyes. You had assumed it was a joke, but the sincerity in the way he observed you told you it wasn’t. Your eyes widened before you were nodding softly and returning a weak smile, taken aback by his confession.

“Don’t worry about it,” he was brushing it off. “You?”

You were staring out the windshield again for a few moments, lost in your thoughts before responding, “A lot of unrequited love, if that counts.”

You began to explain how you had never been in a relationship, not because you didn’t want to, but because it was seemingly out of your control. You presumed that the time you spent on this earth loving romantically without any reciprocation had somehow altered your brain chemistry to truly believe that you were meant to be alone from the very beginning, and you were often wondering which would hurt more, to have had true love and lost it or to never have had it at all. Dwelling over the fact that you had already experienced some form of both made your situation seem all the more ridiculous.

It didn’t go unnoticed by him the way you were flighty in your thoughts, jumping to one without finishing the other. As a result of the accumulation of thoughts you created when you were alone, all the things you would talk to yourself about came spilling out. 

Your mind went on talking even when you were alone. And when you ran out of storage, the thoughts needed to come out somehow. Partly due to your insecurities you hoped that by talking more, you’d be accepted and loved by someone—it hadn’t proved itself to be a successful method in the past and you weren’t sure it ever would be.

“I give, and give, and give. That’s all I do,” you continued, your voice now uneven and trembling slightly. “I give until I have nothing left. I’m terrified of the love I have because I know it will ruin me—it already has, and I know I will continue to let it.”

You were heaving out a sigh of relief at the massive weight being lifted off your chest, still feeling a sort of emptiness but a strangely pleasant lightness associated with it. Even then, you were perplexed by your own eagerness to share your entire life story to someone you met just hours ago, partially blaming the alcohol for how unfiltered you became and you couldn’t tell what Heeseung was thinking from the stoic look on his face and his big doe eyes blinking back at you.

It most definitely wasn’t a feeling of pity, that he knew. It felt almost like a weakness in the heart—like his heart wasn’t working properly—a fleeting lightness that passed through him, being simultaneously lulled to sleep by a single gesture and set on fire by your every touch. 

Your eyes were glossed over, from your lengthy outpour or intoxicated state Heeseung wasn’t certain, but he held not a single ounce of doubt of the amount of love you held. Unsure of what came over him, he was resisting the urge to lean over and cup the sides of your face and tell you that even in his broken, wretched state, he was willing to accept anything you had to give and return everything and more.

“It’s really late. I can drive you home,” he was offering. He convinced you he was sobering up with a lazy smile plastered on his face, yet you couldn’t help raising your brows at the slight flush of his cheeks and numerous empty beer cans in the cup holder.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” you were speaking nonchalantly before turning to look at him with what Heeseung thought he saw were literal stars in your otherwise cloudy eyes. At the implication of your words, he could feel and hear his heart beating at a pace so fast it rang through his ears. As much of an open book as you were, he didn’t expect that from you and you even stunned yourself as the words left you, mouth now agape as you stared back at him. 

You wanted to blame your lack of sobriety yet again but you knew that the flood of emotions had put your mind in a remarkable state of clarity. His calmness—how he listened and watched attentively without any questions, just simply looking at you with a fondness in his eyes—fastened you with a sense of immense trust in him.

Thankfully, he was quickly nodding and turning around to turn on the lights that lit up the rest of his van. In contrast to his somewhat rugged appearance, his space was neat and cozy and it amazed you how few belongings he had; everything fit in his van and there was almost no clutter. The only hint of personality and life you could find was the guitar hanging over the bed, and you were smiling to yourself knowing he at least had music to accompany him. 

Heeseung had suggested cooking some ramen for you, but you simply shook your head with a sleepy smile and told him you weren’t hungry. He didn’t say anything as he clambered on top of his sheets and patted the spot next to him. There wasn’t much space in the van for anything other than a bed and a small stovetop and you were skeptical there would be enough room for you to both lay comfortably. 

You fit yourself on the mattress between him and the back door while he crawled under the covers, pushing his pillow toward you behind your back and grabbing an extra one from beneath the bed for himself. You were still sat leaning against the side of the van as you contemplated your next move, wondering whether you should prioritize comfort or decency and you squirmed at the thought of your dirty jeans on someone else’s sheets.

A brief glance at Heeseung, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed and hands resting over his stomach, had you quickly tucking yourself under the blankets and unzipping your jeans, pulling them down and kicking them over your ankles. You were shuffling downward and placing the now folded jeans beside your pillow, facing away from Heeseung as you pulled the covers up to your chest.

You couldn’t tell but Heeseung had visibly stiffened, eyebrows now slightly furrowed in concentration as he attempted to fall asleep, willing himself to think about anything other than you and your presence inches away from him. He was staring at the ceiling, breath uneven at how you were so similar in the way you craved connection yet different in the sources of your troubles and the way you coped—one capable of giving anything and one who didn’t know how to give at all. 

You felt the bed dip and you could hear Heeseung shuffling around behind you, his heavy breathing against your neck telling you he was now facing you, and still lying on your side when you felt his fingers graze across your hip bone. 

The heat radiating off his body behind you was seeping into your own skin, slowly building into a burn before you were flipping yourself over to face him and immediately thrown off by just how close he was. A slight lean forward from either of you would close the gap, and your eyes were unconsciously flickering down to his lips at the thought.

You were pulling yourself flush against him, savoring the feeling of your bodies pressed so closely together, resting your head in the crook of his neck and he let out a sharp gasp from above you. You could feel his heart beating underneath your palms as you moved your hands across the expanse of his chest. A slight crane of your neck and you were tentatively placing your lips against his jaw, a shaky breath of Heeseung’s fanning your face from the action.

As your kisses moved from his jaw down to his neck, his mouth was parting softly, lifting his head into the pillow to provide you with more access. One particularly harsh suck against his collarbone had him surging forward for more, latching onto the hem of your shirt and fingers hesitantly grazing the waistband of your underwear. 

Heeseung was then leaning forward onto his elbows, the hand that was previously slotted between your bodies wrapping around your shoulder to pull you up and level to him, bringing you into a gentle kiss that caused the hairs on your arms to raise.

It overwhelmed you how thrilling yet calming it felt to be kissing him. You were completely drinking him in, the touch of his skin against yours heating up the pits of your stomach and causing shivers to wrack through you and simultaneously taking your mind off of everything else.

He was gentle with his touch, but his lips were rough and chapped and he was kissing you with so much longing and desperation that for a second, you contemplated whether this was his first time kissing someone, craving any and every bit of physical contact. You quickly dismissed the thought as he took advantage of your inattentiveness with a swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, your lips parting slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth skillfully.

Your stomach churned and you were writhing under his touch from the way your tongues intertwined, a pit of heat rising in your lower stomach. Heeseung was letting out a choked whimper at the feeling of your hands reaching underneath his shirt, smoothing over the skin of his stomach. 

“You okay?” you were whispering as you pulled back, hands coming up to cup his cheeks. He held your gaze for a few seconds, both delicacy and sharpness etched in his features, before his lashes fluttered and he was shaking his head, burying it in your neck. Your hands were sliding along his scalp to soothingly stroke his hair, heart aching at the vulnerability and rawness with which he looked at you. 

It wasn’t clear whether the cause of his feverish state was from the simple presence of you in his arms, but something told you that you should’ve seen it coming when the way he looked at you gradually began changing as the hours progressed.

You were pulling back and placing one last, soft kiss against his lips, lingering for a few moments too long before wrapping your arms around his torso in a tight embrace and rubbing his back gingerly. 

Heeseung was redirecting his attention out at the sky through the back window, foolishly looking for you and him in the stars. Some stars gradually dim and lose their luster, and on a rainy night, you might never see them again. 

You weren’t thinking about what would happen when the stars faded and the sun rose, or when you would see him again—you didn’t need to see him or be physically near him to feel him. Your subconscious was finding comfort simply from the feeling of his chest pressed against yours, your thumb rubbing circles over his shirt while you listened to Heeseung's soft breathing and the sound of the rain beginning to fall against the windows.

A/N: the bolded quote is based on something I saw on twitter: “I’m scared of the love I have for you. Because I know it will ruin me. And I also know that I will let it. I love hard.” but I couldn’t find the source, so credits to the original owner.

[mixtape-racha]

boyfriend!felix thoughts

in a felix brainrot after his insta stories with hyunjin icl | sfw and nsfw under the cut

warnings: mention of alcohol, sub!felix, use of "mommy", voyeurism, pussy eating // minors dni, 18+

sfw

boyfriend!felix who buys you a pandora bracelet for your first birthday/christmas as a couple, and then gets you a new charm for said bracelet every anniversary

boyfriend!felix who coordinates outfits with you for every event - even if its just similar colour schemes, or matching shoes, all the way down to identical outfits

boyfriend!felix who surprises you with holidays to australia - you thinking you'll be visiting his family - but really the two of you rent a camper-van and go on a roadtrip to visit all the places he wanted to when he was younger

boyfriend!felix who helps you prepare for presentations and gets a little too into character - coming into the living room in a cardigan and glasses with a clipboard, marking down everything you did right and anything he feels you could edit or work on (which he happily helps you do)

boyfriend!felix who makes a point to call or text you at every opportunity if you go out for the evening - checking in on where you are, who you're with, how much you've had to drink. he gets worried letting you head home alone from a bar, so is always on call to pick you up if you need it

boyfriend!felix who takes you to any concert he can - an artist you love, a small and upcoming artist you has free tickets to their first proper gig, anything. he loves the way you sing the songs to each other, or sway to the music like you're in your own world. he knows gigs are your favourite place, and is more than happy to indulge you

boyfriend!felix who adopts animals with you so often to the point that you have a collection of plushies and bracelets that you received for adopting sharks, penguins, polar bears, lions, etc.

boyfriend!felix who has a note in his phone of all his most important dates, so he could never, ever forget. the top ten all include you - from your first date, first kiss, the day he asked you to be his girlfriend, to the first time you stayed over at his, or the first time you wore his clothes

boyfriend!felix who's love language is making playlists and mixtapes. you can't even count the amount of spotify links or burned cd's you have courtesy of your lovely boyfriend. he truly has one for every occasion, and a cd for each year you've been together

boyfriend!felix who always, without fail, remembers your dog's birthday. you never have to remind him or hint, he just knows - he actually remembered it before he remembered your birthday, and always comes over equipped with treats and toys and a birthday cap and a doggy-safe cake

nsfw

boyfriend!felix who gets off on the idea of the boys watching you fuck him with his favourite purple dildo and making him show how much of a needy slut he really is in front of his closest friends

boyfriend!felix who spends hours between your thighs just mouthing at your pussy to the point where its so normal that you could be playing a hame on your phone while he's down there whining and mumbling to himself

boyfriend!felix who is a complete service top. he gets off on your bossing him around and telling him what to do - it makes him feel stupid in the best way and makes his head all fuzzy

boyfriend!felix who found out he was into cock-stepping when you accidentally knelt on his bulge while trying to climb over him in the sofa - if he jizzed in his pants when you did it again, no one had to know, right?

boyfriend!felix who has genuinely cum in his pants to your voice. you sent him a voice message while he was away on tour, and of course you were getting yourself off, but just the sounds you made and things you said made him cum without realising

boyfriend!felix who wants to be used as your personal sex toy. just tie him up and use him, honestly. he genuinely doesn't care if his needs are being met, just meet your own and trust him when he says he'll enjoy it

boyfriend!felix who sometimes gets so needy that he practically makes out with your pussy through your panties. no, don't bother removing them. they're already so wet and warm with your slick, whats the harm in keeping them on? and honestly its one of the best orgasms you've ever had

boyfriend!felix who has only dommed once in your relationship, but its was exhilarating for both of you. he had you cuffed to the bed frame with a blindfold on, and the hottest part was the way he described everything he was currently or going to do to you in the sexiest way possible

boyfriend!felix who no matter what positions you're in, holds you as tight as he can. he knows you get off on feeling every single muscle in his body working purely just to give you an orgasm/ the muscles in his arms as he holds you, the muscles in his abs as he thrusts, the muscles in his legs holding himself up, the muscles in his tongue as he wrestles with your own - god, its so hot

boyfriend!felix who fucks you in a hotel hot tub on your first vacation as husband and wife. its a rooftop hot tub that you stumbled across, and headed back to you a 2 in the morning when you knew it would be empty. it was risky, it was exciting, it was fantastic. and if thats where your eldest son was conceived, well... no one needs to know that, do they?

taglist: join taglists here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @taeriffic @mits-vi @chanssmiles @5kayzee @queen-klarissa @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @skz-streamer @demetrisscarf @4evrglow @demetrisscarf

[iolaussharpe-24]

Barbie in the Mojave - Chapter Two

Thank you to everyone who supported chapter one! You're all lovely!

❤️Taglist❤️

(Let me know if you want to be added or taken off for chapter three. No feelings will be hurt.)

@waywardrose, @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @lunar-ghoulie, @ominoose, @reallyrallyauthor

@steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @have-you-seen-my-sanity, @missdictatorme, @angelitawings

@outey-spacey, @autismsupermusicalassassin, @mandytrekkie

Feel free to ask questions about anything as well. I'm happy to talk about my process with anyone that's interested.

Chapter Two: Bad Smells and Worse Ideas

Barbie and Ken stopped and sat down, exhausted. Both of them were tired and panting. Both of them had sore feet (though Barbie’s were considerably worse because of her heels). Both of them were soaked in water despite never being anywhere near water. Both of them were mourning their perfectly styled hair. Ken’s was drenched and stuck to his forehead, dripping in front of his eyes. Barbie’s had gotten frizzy and wild, sitting on her head like one of the dried out brown bushes they walked past. Her headband wasn’t doing much to keep it under control either. Each and every blonde strand had gained sentience and turned against her.

They had walked a long way. The car wasn’t anywhere in sight anymore. It hadn’t been for a long time. The sea of sand had slowly but surely started to become solid rocky ground with dry plants sprouting from split stones and small animals and bugs scurrying into little holes at their feet as they came near.

The sun was setting behind them, making their shadows stretch out several feet in front of them as the air turned cold and the sky began to change colors overhead.

“Barbie, shouldn’t we have found the speedboat by now? This place is like an endless beach without the beach!”

“It’s called a desert.”

“Are you sure this is the right way?”

“I think so.”

“Well what did Weird Barbie say?”

“We’re doing what Weird Barbie said.”

“Wandering aimlessly?”

“For the last time, she didn’t give me directions! I was told to drive a sports car to a speedboat to a rocket ship to a tandem bike to a camper van to a snowmobile to roller blades and then I’d be in the real world where I’d find my kid by equally unspecified means! I don’t know what I’m doing or how I’m supposed to do it, but I want to get it done so that we can go back home and everything can go back to normal.”

He contemplated that for a minute, then smiled brightly. “And then, when we can do boyfriend girlfriend things together. Right?”

She nodded, just to make him stop asking questions. “Sure Ken…. It’s getting late,” she added with a sigh. “We should probably camp out… somewhere. Get some rest so we can keep walking in the morning. I was hoping to be done and home by now, but nothing’s been going right, has it?”

It was annoying. Very, very annoying. All of it. She felt like she was going crazy. She knew that there were going to be differences between Barbieland and the Real World. She did. It was a logical inevitability that only made sense. After all, they are two different worlds. Different realities that were affected by one another, but still very much separated from each other. It sounded absolutely insane, but it did, for some bizarre reason, make a weird amount of sense. Like old sitcoms with a supernatural or otherworldly element that everybody treated like a completely normal thing.

Ugh.

Ken was crouched down with a pile of sticks in front of him, hitting two rocks against each other repeatedly. Trying to start a fire. Fair enough. Just like how the sun had seemed hotter than they were used to in Barbieland, the night air, in turn, was colder. Even in the winter, when everyone tended to bundle up in thick coats and fuzzy boots, the cold never really affected them. This did. It was making Barbie’s skin break out into a thousand tiny bumps that gave her a weird tingling sensation as they appeared.

Must be another human thing. Another problem to fix. Like the cellulite on her legs. She shivered at that thought. Would this spread too? At least the cellulite was easy to hide. It was just on her thighs and was easily covered up as long as she wore longer shorts and skirts.

Their clothes sat in a heap near the place they’d decided to call their campsite, despite not having a dream camper or a tent or a backpack or even a sleeping bag – which was the absolute barest minimum of camping gear they could have possibly had on hand. They’d been forced to carry everything while they walked who knows how far for who knows how long and when they finally decided to stop, they’d just dumped everything unceremoniously in the dirt and used their skates, pads, helmets, and Barbie’s hairbrush to hold down their clothes.

She reached up and felt her frizzy tangles. Felt like a bird’s nest. Probably looked like Weird Barbie’s hack job of a haircut. So, just to feel like she had some control over something, she picked up her brush and started trying to tame the beast on her head.

“I think I saw a spark!”

Ken did not see a spark.

Barbie didn’t have it in her to tell him though. Instead, she praised and encouraged him to keep trying. Saying, “You’ll get a fire in no time,” and genuinely hoping that he would. Maybe that was what was so wrong with everything. Fear and negativity. Maybe, if she just tried to keep a positive attitude, and kept smiling, and tried to go on like her world wasn’t turning upside down, she’d manifest that reality and everything would go back to normal on its own. Or, at the very least, they might get lucky.

It took hours before either one of the two dolls could start a fire. And, by the time they did, it had already gotten cold. To keep warm, the two of them mixed and matched the clothes they brought to cover up as well as they could since they tiny flame they made wasn’t providing them with any kind of warmth whatsoever.

Barbie was in a pair of hot pink ankle boots that didn’t match her pants, and a baby blue long-sleeve shirt that didn’t match anything. Ken had closed his jacket, put on a pair of low waisted jeans, and swapped his sandals for his neon yellow roller skates, though he removed the neon pink wheels from the bottom to make it easier on him to walk in the morning.

After a few moments of sitting side by side to keep warm, Ken lifted his head and sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?” he asked, his brows furrowed.

“Smell what?”

“I don’t know. Something smells… bad.”

Automatically, Barbie turned her head away from her friend, breathed into her hand, and sniffed. Not great. Not terrible. But not great. Think that this wasn’t what Ken was smelling, she lowered her hand and sniffed as well. That’s when she noticed it. A sour smell in the air.

She scrunched up her nose at it at first.. and then realized that it seems awfully close.

For no real reason at all, Barbie lifted her arm and smelled the underside.

Oh. My. God.

She retched and lowered her arm so fast she was impressed that it didn’t snap clean off at the joint. Ken looked at her, confused, and she forced herself to smile and pretend that it was nothing. Even as she dug her nails into her biceps just to make sure that he arms stayed down in an attempt to keep the smell from coming out.

She didn’t understand what was happening to her. Why was her body doing all these things it wasn’t supposed to? First, she was leaking water, her hair was messed up, then she started getting bumpy, and now she smelled?! And that wasn’t taking the fact that she got lost or the wrecked car into account, or any of things that happened before she left Barbieland. This was all in the past few hours.

What could possibly be going on in this little girl’s life to change her like this? It didn’t make sense. How could anything be so wrong with a human that it punched its way through to another world just to drastically alter a Barbie in so many awful ways? It was like time and space and fate had it out for her or something! Worse than Raquelle at her most infuriating. Worse than-

Her thoughts were cut short by a sound in the distance. It was loud and shrill and, like so many other disembodied noises in the dark, was both familiar and strange. It sounded like a dog’s howl in the middle of the night, but it was twisted. It was wrong. And it wasn’t alone.

More howls accompanied the first like a choir singing a chaotic chorus together. One by one they sounded off, the noise echoing in the distance. Barbie looked out into the darkness ahead, unable to see anything at all. Ken did the same, though for a very different reason. He started walking away from her.

“What are you doing?!”

“Dogs! I want to pet the dogs!”

She stared at him, incredulous. “Ken! We don’t know anything about this place! And that doesn’t sound like Skipper walking a group of dogs to me. There’s no one around. We’re out in the middle of nowhere! This is a bad idea.”

“Hey, when it comes to petting dogs, there are no bad ideas.”

“If we were still in Barbieland where we know all the dogs!”

He wasn’t listening. He was just marching off blindly into the dark, his silhouette growing darker and darker. Blending into nothing.

“Don’t go too far! I don’t want you to get lost!” she called out desperately.

Ken didn’t answer. He might have been too far already.

Despite how annoying he could be, Ken was still her friend. She cared about him. Didn’t want him to get hurt. As of right now, he was the only piece of home she had with her. Well, him and a small pile of stuff she had been forced to carry since the car crashed, but she couldn’t talk to a cute skirt the way she could Ken.

She hoped that he had enough common sense to stay close.

Despite poor Barbie’s warning, Ken couldn’t see any harm in wanting to pet a dog. Or a cat for that matter. Or a horse. He loved horses. More, he suspected, than Western Stampin’ Ken did. Animals in Barbieland were always friendly and cute easy to handle. Always. And the Real World counldn’t be that different from Barbieland. It just couldn’t. Their world was made to resemble the Real World. To fix all of the problems the humans faced. That’s what the Barbies and Kens were made for in the first place. An unfriendly animal, especially a dog, felt nothing short of unnatural to him.

She was just being paranoid. Had to be. He’d never known her to be paranoid before, but he’d never known her to have any malfunctions either. This must be one of them. Yeah, that made sense to him. In fact, it made so much sense that it might have just been the reason why Barbie wanted to do this alone. She didn’t want anyone to see how bad this problem could get! He could understand that. If there was a chance that she could end up like Weird Barbie living away from everyone else in the Weirdhouse with all of the recalled Barbies and Kens, it only made sense that she wouldn’t want anyone to see that. In her position, Ken wouldn’t want that either.

Another howl sounds as he walks. That’s a good sign, right? Means he’s getting close. Like how being far away from something made it look smaller. But in reverse.

Excited, Ken walked faster. He thought about all the dogs he’d met in Barbieland and how cute they were. With their big eyes and black noses and little smiles. He even loved the old Taffy dog with her three puppies. Two of them had bobble heads, and the third one needed to be potty trained. That’s why the Barbie that owned them all always had a few newspapers in her dreamhouse. She always let him pet and play with them when he saw her.

Just as he was starting to smile from the memory, he stopped in his tracks. There was a dog in front of him. A little puppy.

It had tan fur and a cream colored underbelly. Big black eyes that stared straight at him. It wasn’t smiling though, that was weird. But the same black nose he always loved nuzzling his own against. It stood perfectly still, watching him as he watched it.

“Hi there,” he said softly, sinking down to his knees. He slowly held out his hand and cooed, “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. My name’s Ken.”

The puppy stared at him, then stepped forward, sniffing his hand. It yipped at him and two more puppies came out from around the corner to join the first.

In that moment, he just knew that Barbie was going to be jealous. He’d tell her that he found puppies and that he got to play with them, and she was going to look at him and say, “I wish I’d gone with you.” He just knew it. What else would she say? He was right. There’s absolutely no way that petting a dog can be a-

Grrrrrrrr…

That wasn’t a good sound.

Looking up at the rocky side of the plateau, Ken saw two more dogs. Fully grown ones. Their teeth were showing as they growled at him. The blond stood up straight, still smiling. “Hi! These little cuties must be yours.”

One of the dogs jumped down, still growling at him, it’s ears low, teeth bared. Then the other dog jumped down to join the first. And a third came from behind him.

His smile fell at bit as he watched. They reminded him of something… unpleasant. Something he’d seen in some of the older movies while at the theater with Barbie. Maybe she was right… maybe this actually was a bad idea. He hadn’t thought that was even possible until now.

Oh no.

Ken took a few steps backwards as one of the dogs started to snap at him, still snarling while it did. He raised his hands, showing the dog his empty palms. “Woah, woah, easy. Easy. I’m not going to hurt you. Or the puppies.”

A loud BANG! sounded from the darkness, echoing through the valley that Ken had been walking in. Almost immediately after, one of the dogs let out a pained whine unlike anything Ken had ever heard in his life. The others turned and ran away while the one that cried fell to the ground, a thick red liquid soaking its fur on one side. He’d never seen anything like it before and… wow… he was thinking that a lot lately, wasn’t he? The Real World was so different from Barbieland. Even the things that were familiar were different.

He looked down at the dog lying at his feet. It wasn’t moving. Wasn’t making any noise. It was more like the dogs back home that way. But in a bad way. A way that made him… not happy. Very not happy. It was like how he felt when Barbie turned down his attempts at doing boyfriend/girlfriend things to have a party with the other Barbies but it wasn’t that. This was different. Like everything else in this world.

He knelt down beside the dog and put his hand on it’s snout. It didn’t react. The fur was coarse and warm. But… it was getting cold. Fast.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know what was happening. All he knew was that he didn’t like the way it made him feel.

Dirt crunched under heavy boots behind the blond while he knelt over the animal. He looked up to see a man wearing a long coat and a hat standing there. The first person he’d seen aside from Barbie since they left home.

“You lost, brother?”

[rabbittf2x]

Arg okay so- I recently got a hyperfixation on this 15 year old game, and have been desperately searching around for content like a hungry raccoon. I can not understate my excitement when I found this blog was active, so preemptively, thank u for posting in general 🫶

I would also like to say that I am extremely touch deprived, and usually avoid affection, that is until I’m super tired or drunk. Then I start confessing my love like a poet in a bad historical fiction. Like I just can’t help how in love I am with this person and don’t have the energy to hide it. How would the mercs be with someone like that? If you don’t feel like writing all of them just Sniper, Scout, and Miss Pauling. Thank you so much for ur time ❤️🫶

Ur very welcome!💖 sorry this took so long or if it’s weird😵‍💫 been busy and a bit uninspired🥴💖 pls enjoy!

TouchStarved!Reader confesses to mercs and Miss Pauling

Includes: Scout, Sniper and Miss Pauling

Scout💖

You could tell Scout liked you. To his awkward touching to poor flirting, all the way down to his constant attempts of impressing you (which almost always resulted in him dead). You liked him back, but didn’t know how to tell him. Work always got in the way

One night after taking a shower, you trudged back to your room in your pyjamas. You swung the door open, so ready to sleep when you spotted a certain someone sitting on your bed

“Oh, hey, Scout. So weird! I thought that this was my room!” You gasped sarcastically

Scout laughed nervously, and you smiled back playfully. You crept over and sat next to him on your bed, placing a hand on his shoulder

“What’s up? You have a nightmare again?” You continued to tease

Scout sputtered bashfully, trying to ignore your hand on him. You both liked it though. You loved how warm and toned he felt

“You’re real funny. Ya know that?” He chuckled. “But no. There was something I actually wanted to ask you…”

Your tired eyes slowly blinked, and your hand on Scout’s shoulder slowly slung around his neck. He seemed surprised at your gesture, cheeks growing red

“Me too…” you whispered

He stared at you wide eyed, but you were too sleepy to meet his gaze. Craving his warmness, you moved both of your arms around his neck and inched closer to him

“I know I don’t show it all the time, but I do like you. You’re sweet.” You smiled tiredly

Scout sputtered for his words again, but didn’t get very far. You let out a soft chuckle, inching closer to him

“Really? That was… kinda what I was gonna tell you.” He finally managed to choke out

You grabbed one of Scout’s bandaged hands, and gently placed it on your waist. He quickly got the memo, and immediately wrapped his arms around you. You hummed in content, feeling as if you could fall asleep right there

“Really.”

You pulled Scout into a desperate kiss, cupping his face and not letting him get away for a second. Not that he wanted to… you loved the way his hands slid up your sides, feeling you up before finding their way into your hair

Sniper💖

You and the whole team were celebrating a great win one night at the base. Well, almost the whole team. Sniper was missing, hiding away in his van outside. After sharing a few drinks with the others, you finally mustered up the courage to go retrieve him

You stumbled out of the base, walking towards the old camper van out front. Your fist bashed against the door, hearing an annoyed grunt from behind it

“Sniper…” you called

The Sniper’s footsteps shook the van momentarily until he stopped at the door, swinging it open to find you there smiling

“What do ya want?” He demanded

You swayed slightly from the alcohol, but caught yourself on his van. “Why aren’t you inside? Everyone’s in there having fun!” You asked

Sniper rolled his eyes with a groan, moving to slam the door shut. Before he could, you forcefully pushed it back

“Wait, wait, wait!” You protested

He growled your name, “what?” He spat

“You don’t have to be mean to me. I just… miss you.”

Sniper opened the door fully, making you stumble forward before catching yourself. He looked down at you with a frown, but then sighed

“Fine.” He grunted, turning back into the van but leaving the door open

You scampered in after him, watching him sit back down on his messy bed. You swayed there awkwardly for a second, before moving down to sit on the floor

“Just sit here.” Sniper interrupted, patting the spot next to him once

You quickly obeyed, perching yourself next to him. He stared at you for a few moments, finally noticing how drunk you really were

“Go back inside.” He said

You shook your head. “No, not without you.” You touched his arm, but was quick to recoil back

Sniper’s shoulders slumped and he rolled his eyes. “You don’t need me. Go back inside.” He repeated sternly

“But I like you. It’s not the same without you.” You frowned

The dark van was silent as you stared at each other. Sniper sighed again, and planted a hand on your shoulder. You nearly purred in response, inching closer

“I do, you know? I really like you.” You whispered

You gazed lovingly into his eyes, setting a hand on top of his that still sat on your shoulder. Sniper stared back, but with a more surprised look on his face

“Yer drunk… ya know that, right?” He said

You laughed breathlessly, leaning in even closer and setting your other hand on his thigh. “I know what I’m saying.” You purred

Sniper took his hands away and cupped your face with them. He ran his fingers through your hair, and you were practically melting at the touch. He leaned in to press a small kiss to your lips, not letting it linger for too long. Even though you wanted it to last forever…

Miss Pauling💖

Miss Pauling came to visit you and the other mercs at your base. You were pretty tired from working all day, but toughed it out to hang out with her anyway. You knew she liked wine, so you snatched something red from Spy’s smoking room

It was late and all the other mercs had gone to bed. You and Miss Pauling sat at the blackjack table alone, laughing together. You had your chair pressed up against hers just a little too close, but she didn’t seem to mind. You took a sip of your wine as she giggled about something, but you were too tipsy to understand what

You just glanced back at the women, setting your glass down with a smile. She stopped laughing after a bit, meeting your blurry gaze. The dim light above you flickered ever so softly, giving your lonely eyes a dull twinkle

“Miss Pauling…” you whispered

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying to get the drunken words out. They didn’t come though, and it all went quiet. You glanced back up at Miss Pauling, noticing that she had been staring at you the whole time

You felt so cold and alone. You craved the girl’s touch as you knew it would be sweet. Instead of speaking up again, you just went in for the kiss. Miss Pauling almost immediately leaned in as well. You couldn’t believe she was so keen to kiss you back. You had no time to tense up or be shocked though. All you could do was melt into it

Miss Pauling placed her hands on your chest, then slid them up to wrap her arms around your neck. You made a happy noise into the kiss, in which she smiled in return. You wasted no time to slip your arms around her waist, pulling her impossibly closer

You were desperate to kiss her forever, but you had to pull away to catch your breath. You gave her small, gentle kisses as you did so, keeping your arms around her

“Miss Pauling, I…” you breathed, gazing into her green eyes

Miss Pauling blushed and fixed her crooked glasses. “Yeah…?” She smiled shyly

“I kinda like you.”

You felt dumb saying that now. It was quite obvious, how you were practically on top of her. Miss Pauling’s smile widened, and she brought a hand up to stroke some hair from your face. You nearly purred, leaning into her touch happily

“I kinda like you too.” She giggled softly

[plus-size-reader]

Never Ending Proposals

Steve Harrington x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2267 words

Warnings: none 

Summary: Steve really wants to marry the reader, and will NOT give it up but at a certain point, he has to face reality.

—————————————————————————————————

“Steve…no”

“No”

“No Harrington”

“God, what is wrong with you? We are not getting engaged”

With the way you just kept repeating yourself, you were sure that someone was going to have you committed but it wasn’t entirely your fault.

He just wouldn’t drop it.

No matter what you tried to tell him, Steve refused to accept that you weren’t ready to be his wife yet.

You got it, you really did. You had heard his fantasy over and over again, about all the kids and the camper van and all that.

It sounded nice… after you had secure careers and could actually afford a camper full of Harrington's. Until then, you were just going to keep saying no, and it didn’t matter how sweet Steve was, or how much he genuinely meant each proposal.

As far as you were concerned, Steve Harrington was still a child, and so were you. Neither of you had any business getting married or starting a family yet.

Just last week, you’d lost Dustin in the mall, and you were confident he was easier to handle than an infant. At least, you hoped he was, considering how much trouble he caused the two of you all by himself.

How were you supposed to juggle everything you already did on top of marital responsibilities? You couldn’t.

There was no way to feasibly make it work.

Not that your partner saw that as clearly as you did, as evidenced by the fact you were once again talking about it, this time driving down the road.  

“I just think it would be nice, y’know?” Steve hummed, getting that dreamy look in his eye again, even though you’d already shot this particular fantasy down once this week.

You smiled in spite of yourself, enjoying the fact that he’d clearly given the more romantic parts of his plan some decent thought. In every way except the practical, he knew exactly how it would go down if you agreed.

Unfortunately, you had your focus placed firmly in reality, where there was no ring on your finger and you liked it that way-for the time being, at least.

“It would be nice, but we aren’t ready” you reminded, resting back fully against your chair, turning your head to meet his gaze before he returned his to the road.

That wasn’t he wanted to hear.

Part of you felt bad for shooting him down so readily. You understood the sentiment, and it would be a lie to say that his insistence on being with you was romantic but it was also crazy.

If you went through with it now, it would be like playing house. It wouldn’t actually be something you could sustain all on your own, and that was just the marriage part. You were even less ready to be parents.

You didn’t even have reliable parents of your own. You wouldn’t know how to be them.

“Why not? We always make it through, together,” he kept going, muscle memory almost entirely driving him now, as he ran his left hand through his hair, only partially focusing on the road.

From where he was sitting, it made perfect sense.

Sure, getting married young like you were was a little unorthodox, but it wasn’t entirely uncommon, especially in a small town like Hawkins. Besides, if anyone had any hope of making it work, he was sure it was you.

The two of you, getting through things together and making it work, no matter what. That was who you were and who you’d always been, for one another.

Marriage was just a formality.

A way to make it permanent, forever.

“We could definitely handle marriage” Steve shrugged decidedly, taking your silence as as much of an answer as he was going to get for now.

He knew you weren’t ready, but it didn’t bother him. You were worth waiting for and if waiting was what you wanted to do, you would do it.

…but he wasn’t going to stop proposing.

Steve made up his mind. He wanted to marry you more than he’d wanted anything in a long time and he wasn’t about to let you forget it.

Not that you could even dream of something like that.

You were painfully aware of the situation at hand, sometimes to the point that the pressure nearly crushed you. After all, Steve had dated a lot of girls before you, and of all of them, you were the one he chose to propose to and not just once.

He had proposed to you more times than you could keep track of, though the most memorable ones had certainly carved out a place in your mind.

The first time, for example, you and Steve had gone to the park and halfway through your walk, he’d made up his mind, and dropped to his knee right there.

Then there were the most elaborate schemes of all; like the time he’d sent a single slip of paper to your house every day for a month, all with the same proposal penned into the paper in blue ink, or when he’d hidden his grandmother’s diamond in a soda can.

Each and every one was crafted with so much effort and care, and he’d put so much time into every individual moment and detail.

It was a beautiful testament to how much he cared for you, and part of you wanted to say yes.

…but you couldn’t.

Wouldn’t. Not until you knew the time was right.

“We could. But first, we have to handle the video store” you reminded, pressing a soft kiss to Steve’s cheek before ducking out of the car entirely, leaving the man you loved to once again ponder over another failed conversation.

“I can handle the video store” he muttered, content to enjoy another day by your side, even if it was just as your boyfriend.

~

“Hey Steve” you called, rounding the corner to the horror section where he was restocking inventory, finally making up your mind, once and for all.

As endearing as he was, and as genuine as his feelings were for you, something had to change.

The pressure of all this marriage and babies stuff was going to drive you crazy, and you couldn’t feel like he was just constantly waiting for you to say yes, like you were keeping him from the one thing he really wanted.

Like being his girlfriend wasn’t enough anymore.

As soon as he heard your voice, the man stopped dead in his tracks, glancing at you over his shoulder, a huge grin on his handsome face.

“There’s my favorite girl. How were the romantic comedies?” he hummed, referring to the section you’d been assigned for the night.

Right now, it was just the two of you on the floor, given the fact Robin had drawn the short straw and was currently locked in the back room. Normally, that would mean a fair amount of sneaky kisses and misquoted movies, but not tonight.

Tonight, you couldn’t stop thinking about the talk you’d had on your way in and you needed some closure, before you drove yourself crazy.

“They’re fine. I was just thinking and I wanted to run something by you” you tried, watching as Steve immediately put down the box he’d been working on and turned his fullest attention to you, as if there was nothing else in the world.

Which, to be fair, there may has well been, in Steve’s mind.

“Sure, what’s up?”

His words hung in the air for only a moment before you finally blurted out what you’d been thinking about all day, without any of the tact you’d been hoping for.

“I need you to stop proposing to me” You started, slightly panicking now that it was all out in the open. Almost instantly, you felt that weight on your chest, no doubt punishment for crushing whatever happy family dream your boyfriend had for the two of you.

Understandably, there was silence between you for a moment as Steve tried to process what you were telling him.

Thankfully, you stepped in again before he could let his brain run wild with this new information. You wanted to make sure that he understood that you weren’t telling him no forever, or ending things, all you wanted to do was wait a little bit longer.

After all, you had ever intention of marrying him, as soon as you reasonably could.

“I love you, more than anything, and one day, you will be the most amazing husband. I just want to wait a little while longer” you cooed, speaking as quickly as you possibly could.

More silence.

By this point, you were sure that you’d upset him, maybe more than you ever had in the course of your relationship.

There was no way to know for sure considering Steve, the most expressive person you’d ever known, wasn’t actually saying or doing anything.

Until, of course, he did.

All at once, the man you loved was standing in front of you, holding your hands gingerly in his own as if you may actually slip through them if he wasn’t careful.

“What is it? Are you worried about your parents? Or my parents? Is it money? Because I can take more shifts. I’m just saying, I could definitely support you, we can figure it out” Steve assured, squeezing your hands, his face so close to your own that you could see the slight flecks of green in his eyes.

Which, of course, nearly melted you.

While you knew it was a bad idea, it was moments like this that made you want to marry him that much more.

He was so amazing.

You knew that there was nothing Steve wouldn’t do for the people he loved, and somehow you’d found yourself in the middle of that…you were lucky to be in love with him, you knew that.

All you were asking was to be with him, in this moment, instead of constantly yearning for a future that you weren’t prepared for yet.

“It’s none of that. I just can’t handle the pressure of it. I don’t want to feel like I’m letting you down” you sighed, deflating at his earnestness.

You loved him so much, and you just needed that to be enough for now.

Steve nearly scoffed at that before forcing it down. Clearly, even though it made no sense to him, that was how you were feeling and he had no right to take away from that.

“You could never let me down,”

Say what you may about Steve Harrington, but he was nothing if not determined to be happy and nothing brought him more happiness than his girl. You were his everything, and if he had to give up every other one of his vices to make you his, then he would just have to learn to live without the rest of it.

It was unbelievable to him that you were actually his girlfriend, and even a smile from you could brighten his whole day and send away the rain.

No matter what you two went through together, you had always been by his side, and the truest love he’d ever had.

The least he could do was try to return that favor for you.

That being said, this morning when he brought it up, he knew that you weren’t going to be happy with him but he didn’t really care. He wanted you to be his wife, and would do whatever it would take to get to that point.

Which wasn’t fair.

At some point, he should have considered the position he was putting you in, and since he hadn’t, Steve was grateful you’d brought it up.

The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable, or make anything harder for you. That was quite literally the reason he wanted to marry you in the first place, so that he could make sure you were always content.

“I love you, that’s what this whole thing is about. So, if you aren’t ready, we’ll wait” he decided, a flood of relief washing over you in an instant.

That was all you needed to hear.

That he wasn’t angry with you, and that he was okay with putting off any greater life planning until you were actually prepared for them.

Steve wasn’t thrilled about it, of course, but he knew what you were saying. In fact, this was one of the reasons he loved you so much. You were so much more realistic than he was, and if he didn’t have you, it was possible that he wouldn’t be able to function even half as well.

“I love you” he repeated, wrapping his arms around you fully now, in what had to be the most comforting hug you’d ever shared.

Not that you could be shocked, even now.

Everything that Steve ever did made him feel that much more irreplaceable to you and he really was. It warmed your heart to know that he was so serious about all of this, and that he really did love you as much as he claimed to.

“I love you! We’ll get there. I promise” you whispered back, giving him a strong squeeze before pulling away almost completely, though not far, considering the fact that you could still feel his breath fanning your face.

“Okay, then I have a promise for you,” Steve grinned, tapping his chin, almost as if deep in thought, before he finally made up his mind.

“I promise that the next time I propose will be the last time”

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- BTS Of The Up All Night Songs

2011

Part 14

WMUB

“We’re on the set for what makes you beautiful” Harry says as we all sit or stand around the little camper van

“I’m about to attempt to drive this lovely vehicle”

“Pray for us” I say wide eyed at Louis comment.

After being pulled over the second time by the police we sit down on a rock with 3 other girls and my boyfriend Alex

“So we have got these gorgeous ladies with us for the boys, but I also have my boyfriend Alex here filming with us” I wrap my arms around Alex smiling

“Hey YN!” Harry shouts and I turn around to see him smirking “ready Alex?”

“Ready”

“What?” I ask wide eyed. Harry runs over to me picking me up by the armpits as Alex takes my legs. I then get thrown into the sea which is actually super cold. I look over after picking my head out of the water and see everyone laughing with the camera pointed at me. I had no idea they were going to film this.

Gotta Be You

A lot of this song we have filmed individually, but right now we’re filming the camp sight scene

“Don’t let YN near that fire” Niall laughs as I try to warm myself by the fire. I stick my tongue out at him

“I’m cold, leave me alone”

“I’m cold. I’m YN YN and I’m always cold” Louis teases

“Just like Harry!” Zayn laughs

“Hey!” Harry says offended

We’re stood on a huge rock singing when I loose my footing and grab hold of Liam, but end up pulling him down with me, both of us landing on our butts

“Ow” I groan pouting as Louis, Harry and Zayn all laugh

“That bloody hurt” Liam chuckles standing up and rubbing his bum

“Sorry Liam” I say still pouting on the floor

“Come on” Louis holds his hands out and I take them as he helps me up

“Let’s get that again shall we”

One Thing

We’re filming One Thing in London which is super cold right now! Harry, Niall and I all huddle together in our coats, but when we’re asked to take them off to film we all groan

“Ok YN I want you to run down the hill while the boys chase you”

“Im in heals and a dress” I frown “I’ll end up either showing my ass off or falling and breaking something”

“One of you carry her”

“I will” Louis offers

“No you’ll drop me” I point at Louis “either Zayn or Niall. They’re the only two I trust”

“Charmin” Harry says to the camera 

It’s now dark out. The camera is rolling but we’re just messing about and having fun. Niall pokes my side and I give him a warning look. Harry then pokes me so I glare at him. Niall pokes me again so I threaten them

“The next person to poke me or tickle me will be hit by my heel” I say looking up at the sky. Harry being Harry pokes me so I take my shoes off and run around chasing him with it. Who knew that that interaction would make the final cut.

“Look at them” I hear Liam say to I’m guessing the camera “they’re cute” I open one eye and look at Liam “uh oh. Time to run” I smile closing my eye smuggling back into Harry to try and keep warm.