#like it feels like the burger is sitting like a lump in my throat

[flowerfluffchronicles]

i kind of flipflop between being psyched about losing weight and worrying that maybe i'm losing too fast?

Cuz I remember how people are like, oh aim to lose 2 lbs a month.

And then if I don't lose anything for a day I get super bummed out.

And I mean I'm eating way less than I used to, so that's the big reason that I'm losing weight.

And I looked up what triggers 'starvation mode' and I'm making sure to eat enough calories that I don't do that (most days - today was easy because one damned burger king burger has like 1200 calories and I only need to eat 1000).

So maybe it's not bad that I'm losing so fast?

And it gives me something to focus on that isn't politics or the different pains I have.

[zyhkoo]

☆ till the light leaves my eyes

angst to fluff (?) gn! reader

Jason realized that he can’t let you go. part 1

a/n: heres part two!

Lately, Jason had found himself grappling with a host of unsettling thoughts. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he returned your affections, if he could feel the same way about you that you felt about him.

He knew that you brought joy and light into his life, and he couldn’t understand why he was unable to offer you the same. The question of why he couldn’t simply reciprocate your feelings weighed heavily on his mind.

The two of you were currently sitting in a cozy burger shop, surrounded by the warmth and commotion of a Saturday night. The aroma of sizzling burgers and crispy fries filled the air, a familiar and comforting scent. The clinking of silverware against plates and the buzz of chatter from other patrons filled the background, creating a soothing white noise.

You were intently focused on your phone, your expression a mixture of concentration and frustration. Your eyebrow was furrowed, and you were biting your lower lip as you navigated whatever was on the screen.

Jason casually glanced over at you, his eyes tracing your every move. He noticed the frustrated expression on your face and your furrowed brows. “Everythin’ okay over there?” he asked.

You briefly looked up from the screen, giving him a small smile. “Yeah, just frustrated,” you replied, putting your phone down on the table. “My friends are trying to set me up.”

Jason's heart sank a little as he heard your words, but he quickly masked the pain. "Oh, really?" he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "Who's the lucky guy?"

He could see the flush in your face as you scoffed, “Not you too..” you groaned, darting your eyes.

Jason raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at the edges of his lips. "What? Can't I be curious?” he teased. “Is it someone I know?” You rolled your eyes, a small grin on your face. “You're just as bad as my friends,” you replied, shaking your head. “It's no one you know, trust me.”

He didn't want you to know how much the idea of you dating someone else bothered him, but he knew that he couldn't stand in your way. “You should go for it,” he said, forcing a smile. “You never know unless you try, right?”

Your eyes widened in surprise, could he let go so easily? “You think so?” you blinked.

“Yeah, why not? It could be fun y’know.” He tried to sound encouraging, but the words felt like sandpaper on his tongue. Your eyes dart to your best friend then to your phone. Then you sighed, picking up your phone again “I’ll do it.”

Jason swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched you text back your friends. The idea of you going on a date with someone else made him feel nauseous.

Jason couldn't understand why the prospect of you dating someone else was bothering him so much. He shouldn't be concerned - it was your life, after all. So why did it feel like someone was physically squeezing his heart?

When you started dating someone else, Jason felt an aching emptiness within his heart. Despite the fact that the two of you continued to spend time together, he couldn't shake the pain and heartache of knowing that you now belonged to someone else.

He longed for the days when it was just the two of you, when the bond between you was uncomplicated and unbroken. It was as if a piece of him had been torn away, leaving a gaping hole that he struggled to fill.

As time went on, Jason noticed a gradual drifting apart between the two of you. Maybe it was because he had allowed you to spend more time with someone else, he thought.

He couldn't help but wonder if his inability to fully be with you, to reciprocate your feelings, had led to this gradual separation. The realization filled him with a sense of regret and melancholy, and he found himself grappling with the loss of the closeness once shared.

Jason couldn't help but feel that he had brought this upon himself. He believed that you deserved happiness and love, and he knew that he was unable to give you that. This realization only deepened his sense of guilt and self-blame, as he thought that he had driven you into the arms of another with his emotional unavailability.

The only moments you and Jason spent together now were during your joint patrol duties. The once frequent hangouts and relaxed times spent together had been replaced by moments of necessity and obligation.

Jason noticed that there was something different about your behavior during your patrol one evening. Once the patrol was finished, he decided to head over to your house, his concern growing with each step he took. He cautiously approached your window, giving it a gentle knock, hoping to catch your attention.

When you pulled back the curtains and saw Jason standing there in his full vigilante garb, your eyes widened in surprise. It wasn’t every day that he paid you a visit in this fashion, and the sight was unexpected, to say the least.

You immediately slide open the window “Hi, is there anything you need?”

Jason stood there awkwardly for a moment before clearing his throat “Can I come in?” he asked.

You nodded and stepped aside to allow him to climb through the window and into your room. He looked around, taking in your surroundings before focusing his attention back on you.

You sheepishly smiled “It’s a bit of a mess, I’m sorry.” you scratched your head. Jason's gaze roamed over the room, taking in the mess and disarray. He shrugged, "It's fine," he reassured you. "I've seen worse."

You couldn't help but notice that Jason hadn't addressed you by his usual nickname. It struck you as odd and out of character for him. You fidgeted nervously, your fingers tracing random patterns on the surface of your bed.

He wasn't particularly skilled with words, and he struggled to find the right thing to say. Jason asked, "Are you okay?"

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight and constricted. Words failed you for a moment before you managed to force out a response. "I'm..." you trailed off, your voice caught in the emotions you were trying to suppress.

Jason could see the turmoil in your eyes, picking up on the subtle signs of distress. He took a step closer, his expression one of deep concern. "You don't have to hide anything from me," he said gently.

You swallowed again, trying to push down the tightness in your throat. "It's just...been a tough few weeks," you finally managed to get out. “We broke up.”

Jason's expression shifted to one of shock as you revealed that you had just gone through a breakup. His eyes widened, and a mix of surprise and confusion registered on his face. He hadn't been expecting this revelation, and it seemed to hit him unexpectedly.

You had been dealing with the aftermath of a difficult breakup, and seeing Jason again after everything that had happened between you only added to the turmoil inside you. You were grateful for his presence, but the pain and confusion lingered, creating a tangled web of emotions.

Amidst the pain and heartache, there was one singular thought that echoed in your mind — the realization that the person you truly wanted was standing before you. All you longed for was Jason.

Your knuckles turned white as you clenched your fist tightly, the pain and frustration of the breakup. Your gaze flickered downward, finding it hard to meet Jason's gaze. "We just...couldn't make it work," you whispered, your voice shaky.

He hated seeing you like this, suffering and clearly hurting from the aftermath of a failed relationship. The urge to reach out and take away your pain was strong, but he knew he couldn't simply fix it with a few words or a simple gesture.

Instead, he took your clenched hand in his, gently prying your fingers open and intertwining them with his own. "I'm here for you," he said quietly, his voice steady and sincere. "You don't have to go through this alone."

Your eyes stung with tears as you pulled him into a tight embrace. The floodgates opened, and your emotions poured out in that single, desperate gesture. Jason's arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close, holding you together.

“I missed you.” your confession was soft, a mere whisper against his chest, but it echoed loudly in his ears. Jason's heart squeezed, a mix of emotions flooding his mind at your words. He pulled you closer, his grip tightening ever so slightly.

"Missed you too, doll." he replied, his voice thick with an unspoken weight. "So much."

“Days without you was so agonizing.” you whispered. He ran his hand gently over your back, a comforting gesture meant to soothe your heart. "I'm here now," he whispered, his voice gentle and firm. "I'm right here… and I'm not going anywhere."

“I can’t love anyone else Jason. I only love you.” Your grip on him tightened, your voice shaking as you confessed your enduring love for him. Jason's heart ached at the pain and vulnerability in your words, and his own grip on you involuntarily tightened as well.

He was tired of resisting his feelings, of denying the truth that he had been fighting against for so long. He couldn't bear the thought of losing you again, of watching you slip through his fingers once more.

Jason's heart ached as he finally let go of his stubborn resistance, acknowledging the love he had for you that he had been trying to ignore. With a surge of determination, he cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look up at him. He needed you to understand the sincerity of his words.

"Doll," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of tenderness and urgency, "it's always been you. Ever since the beginning, it's only been you."

He pulled you closer, his eyes searching your face as if looking for confirmation that you were hearing the weight of his words.

"Please, believe me," he murmured, his voice ragged with emotion. "I'm done pretending. I can't keep denying what I feel for you." Your breath hitched, you gazed at his eyes. You were absolutely stunned, you had no idea what to say. “What.. what you feel?”

"What I feel for you," he repeated, his tone gentle but firm. "I..." he paused, the words catching in his throat for a moment. "I love you, doll."

Jason’s thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "I realized it too late, but I can't deny it anymore. I love you. I always have. I always will."

“Jason..” your voice trembles in a small whisper. He leaned in, meeting your lips in a kiss. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you closer to him as he melted in the taste and feel of you.

Your hands clenched the fabric of his jacket, a silent plea for him to stay close, to never let go.

He broke the kiss, his breathing wqs ragged. He rested his forehead against yours, his gaze still filled with intensity. "I know I've been an idiot," he murmured, his voice rough. "But I want to make it right. I want to be with you, doll. If you'll let me."

“I’ll love you till the day that I die.” you responded.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Simmer #8

CH8. Boiling Point | The Menu [3.7K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

You wished the diner was busier. 

You would’ve done anything for more customers to serve. Anything. But Jim’s was quiet, only a few regulars scattered around the tables, only wanting coffees, no refills, scowling if you came too close, blocking the sunlight that fell onto their newspapers. 

Robin and Steve were by the bar, throwing a crumpled napkin between them like a baseball, talking softly about nothing important and you felt too hot as you stood polishing the cutlery, shoving napkins into dispensers with clumsy hands. You could see Eddie through the kitchen hatch, prepping the burger buns for the dinner rush that you hoped would come. His eyes were trying to find yours as he rolled out the dough but you were avoidant, moving around each empty table with your head ducked. 

Eventually, the rolling in your stomach became too much and the sight of Chrissy loitering in the kitchen was making that hot flush creep higher up your neck, across the back of your ears. You slammed a pile of menus down on the coffee bar, ignoring the way Mr Creel grumbled at you, looking at Steve and Robin as if they’d be able to fix the way you were feeling. 

“Did Eddie and Chrissy used to date?” You came right out with it, voice rushed and quiet, speaking low in hopes that your question wouldn’t carry into the kitchen. 

The radio was on, a female voice crooning from the speakers and you hated the way Chrissy was swaying to the beat, powder blue uniform skimming the tops of her thighs as she stood too near Eddie, refilling the salt and pepper shakers. 

“It’s my party and I’ll cry if I want, cry if I want to, cry if I want to. You would cry too, if it happened to you…”

“Chrissy?” Robin wrinkled her nose and looked into the kitchen, too obvious. You tugged at her arm, pleading. “Don’t look.”

Steve snorted, hopping off of the bar to block lean over it instead, knocking his knuckles against yours. “Nah. I mean, I don’t think so?” He squinted at you before he shared a look with Robin and the girl shrugged, confused. “Chrissy just likes to flirt. With like, everyone. Her and Eddie were friendly, I guess?”

“Friendly,” you repeated, swallowing the word with the lump in your throat. 

“It’s not, it’s not like that,” Steve murmured softly. His eyes were searching yours, watching the way they turned glassy. “It’s not like it is with you, trust us, you don’t have to worry about that, okay?”

Robin nodded, reaching out to hold your hand. She squeezed your fingers and smiled. “Yeah, you seriously don’t have to panic. Eddie doesn’t worry about our eating habits,” she grinned when you rolled your eyes. “And can we talk about that hickey yet? ‘Cause, shit…”

You groaned, cheeks warm but your friends had succeeded in quelling the ache in your chest, if only just. You felt like the new kid again with Chrissy around, watching her sit on the stool - your stool - at Eddie’s station, laughing at a joke you couldn’t hear, pocketing tips from the truckers who came in for coffee and cake, asking her how her summer was, if she was still working seasons at the camp a few towns over. 

Chrissy was confident and bright, a bubblegum pink smile and rosy cheeks, a pretty, bouncy thing that made you feel two inches tall and every time you caught her near Eddie, your heart sank a little. She touched him a lot, a delicate hand on his arm, shoving at his shoulder when he made her laugh, brushing a crumb off the lapel of his chef whites after he whisked up a new batter. 

You stayed away from the kitchen, only taking orders that Jonathan handed you from across the hatch and you could see the way Eddie’s brows knitted together every time you turned your back on him but the jealousy was too overwhelming. The uncertainty, the self conscious ache that made your neck feel too hot and you knew you were being ridiculous. 

You did. You knew. 

But it was too soon to be marking your territory and scaring away the boy with questions like, ‘what are we? Have you kissed her? Have you kissed her like you kissed me? Are we more than friends now? Are we more than what you have with her?

“Chicago,” Jonathan’s voice interrupted your pity party. He was pouring a coffee for Mr Creel, the man’s seventh refill of the afternoon. “Chef’s asking for you.”

Your stomach flipped and you grimaced, trying to pull off the expression as a smile. You weren’t sure it worked. You held up the cloth you’d been walking around with for an hour to look preoccupied, shrugging half heartedly. “Busy,” you told the boy. 

“He said he’s made you lunch,” was all Jonathan replied. 

So you sighed and tried not to let his words tug on your heartstrings too much. You smiled and gave in, throwing the cloth onto the workstation by the kitchen door and you didn’t even bother announcing your arrival when the diner was so quiet. Eddie looked up the second you appeared, eyes wide and he was just finishing plating up a stack of pancakes, a bundle of chopped strawberries in a bowl beside them. 

“Hey,” he breathed, wiping his hands on his apron. “Hey. You okay? I’ve not seen you all shift.”

The kitchen was empty, no sign of Chrissy. The stoves were off and only one grill was still sizzling, leftover pancake batter crisping in the corners as it cooled down, a simmer in the quiet. You smiled weakly, unable to stop the wobble in your lip.

Cry baby, cry baby, cry baby. 

You coughed, clearing your throat until the lump there disappeared and you nodded. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Sorry, it’s, uh,” you winced as you gesture back to the empty diner. Steve was sleeping in one of the booths, his head against the window. “It’s been… busy.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie murmured, a frown on his face. It was soft, concerned. “Sit, yeah? Have lunch with me?”

You took a step forward, aching to walk to the boy, to let yourself push your face to his chest and let him smooth his hands over your hair. You got to spend the night into the early morning with him, draped over his lap as you shared triangles of grilled cheese and then kisses after it but you missed the way he felt already. 

Then the fire exit door opened and Chrissy sauntered back in, cooing at the sight of the pancakes on the worktop. Eyes wide, she skipped over, ponytail bouncing like something out of a damn daydream and you didn’t know what to say when she picked up the fork Eddie had laid out for you and speared it through the stack. Her lips were sticky with gloss and maple syrup as she licked them, moaning sweetly as she looked at Eddie.  

“Oh my god, Eds,” Chrissy sounded pornographic. “I missed your cooking so much, you know that?” She turned to you, grinning. Oblivious - maybe. “Does this cutie pie cook you up some food too? I swear, I used to get three meals a day when I worked here full time. Oh my god— Eddie! Remember the triple stacked pizza—?”

You didn’t hear the rest of the story. You really didn’t care to. And as rude as it may have seemed, you walked right past Chrissy and Eddie and the pancakes that were no longer yours. You could feel the tears burning the corner of your eyes and it made your nose itch, your cheeks burn. You weren’t doing this where people could see. 

The door to the walk-in was heavy but you yanked it hard, breath catching in your throat like a hiccup and you were quick to close it behind you, the thud making the shelves inside rattle but it was suddenly quiet as it was cold. The heat of embarrassment faded, the burn crawling up the back of your spine disappeared and you sniffed, gazing up at the ceiling as if that would quell your tears. You stared at the patches of ice, focusing on the goosebumps rising across your bare arms instead. 

It was silly, you thought, to feel such a way. To let someone make you feel that way. But beside Chrissy and her perfectly curled ponytail and her pretty Mary Jane sandals, you felt small. Unimportant. Like you suddenly didn’t belong in the stupid diner with its stupid chequered tables and its broken soda machine. Chrissy hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. It was mean of you to dislike her, with nothing more than a name and her connection to Eddie to fuel your jealousy. 

Feeling petulant, you decided that was enough. You swore, mostly at yourself, and pressed the heels of your palms to your watery eyes. You felt replaced and it was an awful, ugly feeling. As much as you tried to remember what Robin and Steve had told you earlier, you couldn’t get over the way Chrissy looked at Eddie, like she really knew him, like she had some sort of claim on him. It was a very female thing to pick up on, only seeing the subtle signs through the eyes of being a girl. 

The glances, the quick up and down she gave you as you arrived that morning, weighing up the chances of you being competition. The touches on Eddie’s arm, the territorial way she barely left his station, the too sweet smile she gave you as she ate the lunch Eddie made for you. The chit chat that seemed pleasant enough, the not so hidden reminders in her stories that she knew Eddie for longer than you had, better than you did. They had inside jokes, old memories, shared stories. 

There was a knock at the door. 

An odd thing to hear, on the other side of a walk in refrigerator, but you knew there was only one person it could’ve been. So you sniffed again and swiped meanly at your eyes, leaning against the door, ignoring the chill, the way your cheeks were both hot and cold at the same time. 

“I’ll be out in a second,” you called through the steel. “I’m just… trying to find some—” your mind blanked as you looked around the space aimlessly, eyes landing on crates of vegetables. “—some asparagus.”

You made a face, annoyed with yourself for such a lame excuse and you heard a shuffle from outside before a familiar voice came through. “Sweetheart? Can I come in?” Eddie sounded muffled, mainly from the inches of steel and insulation between you but you could still pick up on the concern in his voice. 

You sighed, bottom lip wobbling and you opened the door, the brief wash of warm air hitting your cold face. The fridge didn’t lock. Eddie could’ve bathed in whenever he liked. But there was something about the way he’d asked you that had you giving in easier than you thought you would. You stepped back, arms goosepimpled and crossed over your chest as you made room for the boy inside the walk in. Back against the metal racking, your hip bumped against a pallet of butter, boxes of it stacked high. You didn’t look at Eddie not yet. 

“Why’re you crying?” Eddie asked gently, ducking down and bending slightly at the knees so he could look at your face, so he could try and coax you into meeting his gaze. It was a soft question, not anywhere near an accusation and he said it so sincerely, like he really wanted to know what was upsetting you. 

All you heard was crybabycrybabycrybaby. So you turned your chin and hid your face in your hair, letting the strands stick to your wet cheeks and you swiped at your eyes again, too harsh for Eddie’s liking. Your breath left you in a hiccup, a holding thing that made the boy’s brows pinch together. 

“Hey, hey,” Eddie reached out and curled a hand around your wrist, wide and still warmer than your own skin. “Hey, c’mon, c’mere.” The boy pulled you in closer, hands coasting over the apples of your cheeks, tutting softly as he wiped the way the tears there. 

You cringed, embarrassed at being caught in such a state but Eddie pushed his thumb into your cheek until you let him lift your face and your gaze met his. He frowned, eyes big and earnest and he made a noise that was meant to soothe. You couldn’t help but lean into his palm, eyes watering again and you moved away, stumbling over your words, not sure if you should be apologising first or asking the questions you didn’t wanna know the answer to. 

“God, I’m sorry,” you scrunched your face, mortified. “I’m— I don’t know why I’m getting myself like this, m’tired or something.” Before Eddie could respond you pulled back to stare at him, cheeks hot. “Is Chrissy like… did you and Chrissy— are you—?”

Eddie blinked at you, surprised. “I—”

You regretted it immediately, the accusatory way you asked such a personal question. It had been two months, one date, one kiss. You felt so stupid. “I have absolutely no right to ask you that,” you rushed out, eyes wide. Fuck, you felt worse than before. “I’m sorry, that’s— that's none of my business.”

“Sweetheart, you spent the majority of last night with my tongue in your mouth,” Eddie tried to joke, smiling weakly. “I think you’re allowed to ask that question.”

You looked at him, mournful, the lump still stuck in your throat and an awful feeling of unease clinging to you. You shrugged, a little hopeless. “Were you guys like.. a thing? Are you a thing?”

“No,” Eddie answered, soft and sure. “We’re not. We’ve never been— not like that. Chrissy…” Eddie swallowed and pulled at his apron, suddenly looking uncomfortable. “Chrissy just likes to be the centre of attention. And well, I guess you could say, uh, I used to have a crush on her?”

Eddie noticed the way your shoulders tensed. “But that was way, way back in high school. Nothin’ happened. Ever. And— and I don’t want anything to happen now.” Eddie grinned, wry, awkward. “She just likes to make sure she’s got everyone’s attention, y’know?”

You did know. 

“You used to make her food too,” you noted sourly and you hated the way your voice came out small, delicate. Moody. “She said she was your favourite.”

“Babe,” Eddie said a little gruffly, fondly. He reached back out, hand catching yours and you let him. He played with your fingers, the ring on your middle one, his touch delicate and comforting. “I’m a cook. I make food for everyone, they just— they just gotta ask me.”

Well, didn’t you feel silly. So you bit a little, heat rising up then back of your neck again, embarrassment tingling, your voice rising. “I don’t know! It could’ve all been part of your— your moves, or something.”

“Moves?” Eddie choked out, incredulous. “Sweetheart, it took me two months to kiss you, you think I’ve got moves?”

You squirmed, embarrassed still. You shrugged, unsure what to say because in your eyes, Eddie had all the moves. You could still remember the way he kissed you, the feel of his hand on your jaw, your waist, in your hair, on your thigh. The way he kissed you between making you your grilled cheese, the bread almost burning as he got too caught up in you, in the way he pressed you back into the counter, dotting kisses over your cheeks, your nose. 

“I don’t know,” you said again and you ducked your chin, hiding.

Eddie tsked but it was a soft sound, sympathetic and he pulled at your hand, tugging you into him until you relented. Your face found his chest, nose pushed to his fresh chef whites and he smelled like his cologne, lemongrass and something sweet like leftover icing sugar. He let you hide there instead, your hands clinging to the front of his apron and you only pressed closer when his hands smoothed over your shoulders, climbing down your sides until he could hold you to him. His lips were on your hairline, a little hesitant, because all of this was so new, because you were clearly upset, because he didn’t know what this was yet, how this worked. 

“What can I do, hm?” Eddie asked you softly, voice a low murmur. The walk in didn’t seem as cold with the way his nose was pressed to your temple. “What can I do to make you feel better, tell me.”

That hopeless feeling melted away with each pass of Eddie’s hand up and down your back, fingers trailing over the curve of your spine. You mumbled something intelligible, shrugging your shoulders again and hoping that Eddie couldn’t feel the heat that radiated from you. “I dunno,” you whispered. You swallowed, throat tight. You didn't know what to ask for too much, not so soon. “I don't want to— I’m not trying to—”

“Breathe, sweetheart.” You could hear the frown in his voice. 

“Last night meant something, right?” You didn’t ask for the world. No labels, not yet. Nothing too scary. Nothing too deep. “That wasn’t just a, uh, one off or whatever?”

Eddie laughed, the sound softened by the way he buried his face in your hair and the arms he’d wrapped around you tightened, squeezing, affectionate. “I have absolutely every intention of doing that with you again…” he murmured, coaxing you out of hiding only to cup your jaw, thumb pushed to your cheek. He grinned down at you, all flirt and charm. “And again and again and again. If you’ll let me.”

It was unnerving, what those words did to you. The tilt of his lips, the pretty cadence of his voice. Eddie’s thumb coasted over the apple of your cheek and suddenly you forgot all about the other waitress who was no doubt still outside in the kitchen. “That sounds nice, yeah.” You nodded, warm all over again, all for the right reasons. 

“You gonna let me take you out too?” Eddie asked and he leaned back against the racks, the cold metal doing nothing to deter him as he spread his legs a bit, pulling you between them by the tie of your apron until you were framed by his thighs. Closer, closer. “A proper date this time, please. A movie, some dinner, a walk somewhere real nice so I can kiss you goodnight and all that stuff?”

You grinned, cheeks aching, surprising yourself with the suddenness of it because now? Right then? Nothing else mattered but Eddie. “That sounds even nicer,” you told him and your eyes crinkled with the brightness of your smile. “Please.”

“Can I kiss you now? Been wantin’ to kiss you for ages,” Eddie murmured and his eyes were on your mouth, thumb moving closer to your chin, the tip of it ghosting the curve of your bottom lip and you nodded, eager in a way that should’ve been embarrassing but you pushed yourself to your toes and clung to him a little tighter.

A soft kiss, much, much softer than the ones shared the night before but still not appropriate for the workplace. Especially not a walk-in that was cold enough to make your toes ache. Not that you cared. But Eddie didn’t seem to either, humming in appreciation when you pressed yourself against him, face tilting to the side for him to deepen the kiss a little, lips moving a little more urgently against your own. 

“Need to stop,” he breathed as he pulled away, grudgingly, giving in again to press a peck to the corner of your mouth and then another to your cheek. His palms smoothed over your jaw, up across your temples to swipe away the baby hairs there. “Gonna get carried away.”

You felt dizzy, miles and miles away from the kitchen, from that awful feeling, from Chrissy. You knew exactly what he meant. 

“Can I make you some food now?” Eddie nosed at your cheek, arms winding around your waist and you felt so adored, the affection pouring from him by the bucket full. “You’ve not eaten all day.”

“Because someone ate my pancakes,” you said sourly and you regretted it immediately. You didn’t want to be the jealous girl, the insecure girl, the petty girl. But Eddie made it very hard to want to share. “Sorry, that was rude.”

Eddie snorted and just kissed your head, a touch so casual it made your heart jump. “C’mon,” was all he said. “Get your butt out of here before you freeze.”

It was easier to shuffle out of the walk-in when Eddie was leading you, his hand holding yours, the burning embarrassment you’d once felt fading to a shameful simmer. Chrissy was still at the boy’s station, picking out pieces of strawberry from the bowl, the plate of pancakes now empty. Steve was placing a bucket of dirty coffee cups into the sink and he looked up as the two of you appeared. 

“Oh hey,” he frowned in concern at your red rimmed eyes. “I wondered where you’d gone to, you ok—?” 

“Couldn’t reach the top shelf,” Eddie interrupted, smiling as if nothing had happened. He sent Steve a look and Chrissy watched, sucking fruit juice and sugar from her fingers. Eddie grinned at you, squeezing past you and the counter, his hands on your hips as he passed. “Had to lend a helping hand, didn’t I? Short stack.” 

Your heart ached, your chest feeling too full with the kindness, the affection. So you could only nod, looking sheepish and even if Steve didn’t believe Eddie, he stole a knowing glance at Chrissy and nodded. The kitchen was filled with the kind of tension that had made you run off in the first place, but the feeling of being out of place disappeared when Steve asked Eddie:

“I’m going for a smoke, you comin’?”

Eddie shook his head and busied himself with pulling an old stool out from Argyle’s prep station. It had one wobbly leg, but you didn’t care. Not when Eddie took your hand and helped you hop onto it, the chair closer to him than the stool Chrissy was sitting on. 

“Nah, man,” Eddie said. “M’gonna make my girl some food.”

[zsturiolosx]

Your secret is safe with me.

pairing: Soft!chris x ED!reader

summary: since you and your boyfriend, Chris, started dating, he realized he had never seen you eating anything unhealthy, just fruits, salads, water, and one day he questions you about it…

warning: slight angst, fluff, use of pet names (ma, baby.), crying, compulsive eater.

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————————————— • ————————————

You and your boyfriend, Chris, were out in a famous fast food, just because Nick and Matt were out and it had nothing to eat in his house.

Chris had ordered a cheeseburger with french fries and Pepsi, and you had your typical Caesar salad with no croutons and a bottle of natural orange juice.

Chris lets out a low groan once he eats a bite of his burger, closing his eyes.

“Ma, this is fucking delicious! Here, take a bite.” You giggled, shaking your head.

“No, thanks.” You reply smiling, taking a sip of your juice. “I believe you.”

Chris chuckles, still keeping his burger in front of you. “C’mon, it’s really good, you have to try it.” He insists, as you start feeling slightly annoyed.

“No, baby, thank you.” You say a little more harshly, wanting him to drop it.

Chris sighs, seeming to be thinking about something for a couple of seconds, before he starts speaking:

“You know what? I’ve never seen you eating unhealthy food during all of our relationship.” He furrows his brows with a slight smirk, thinking this was just a silly topic, but not for you.

As soon as Chris started speaking, you couple feel your hands shaking and your eyes burning. You could feel already a lump forming in your throat, as you slowly drop your fork.

“Why is that, ma? Your diet is so strict, you know you can eat good food sometimes, right?” Chris chuckled softly, taking a sip of Pepsi. “I highly doubt that you enjoy eating only salad and fruits, that’s crazy to me.”

“Chris, enough!” You shout, sounding more mad than you should, making Chris look at you confused. “Drop it, okay?! I don’t want your burger.”

You sigh, trying to maintain calm, as you look down, eating a small bite of salad. Chris stayed quiet, now eating his food silently.

And it kept going like this during the whole lunch.

——————————————————————————

————————————— • ————————————

You and Chris had arrived at the triplets house about ten minutes ago, and your boyfriend stayed in the living room, while you went running to Chris’s room.

As soon as you laid in his bed, your eyes started to water up, tears streaming down your cheeks, as you pinched your forearms, trying to stop that desire growing in your stomach.

Every day you fought against the urge to eat everything you saw, even if you weren’t hungry. Every day you had to stay strong and focused on your diet, before that compulsion hits you like a hammer, like it did your whole life.

You remember the times you used to eat every five minutes, and how you use to hate your body, your face, and even feeling down, you couldn’t stop eating.

You found out you were a compulsive eater at sixteen, after begging your parents to let you go to therapy. And since then, you had a strict diet to keep that compulsion from controlling your life again.

You loved your body now, your face, all of your pimples were gone, and you had so much more energy. But you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss eating chocolates, and ice creams, pizza and burgers again. And to make it even worse, you had to watch all of your friends and boyfriend eat everything you most wanted and keep their health completely normal and healthy.

And, of course, none of them knew what you have been through and how you feel every day, because they wouldn’t understand, no one does.

Your thoughts were cut short by the door opening suddenly and your boyfriend entering the room.

“Y/n, have you seen my-“ Chris stops talking once he sees you laying in bed formed like a ball, your eyes full of tears, cheeks red and wet.

“Baby, what happened?” He asked softly, sitting down by your side, in his face clear worry and concern.

“I’m s-“ You sob quietly, getting up and sitting down with your back against the bed frame. “I’m sorry i snapped at you, Chris.”

Chris laughed softly, cupping your cheeks with both of his hands, wiping your tears away. You snuff with eyes filled with water, a pout on your lips.

“It’s okay, baby.” He laughed softly, adored by you. “But you’re not crying over this, what’s wrong?”

You look away from his sweet and piercing blue eyes. “No, it’s nothing.” You whispered lowly, not wanting to let Chris know about this dark chapter of your life.

“Hey, Y/n.” He said harsher, holding your face so you’re looking at him. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. You know you can count on me for everything.”

You snuffed and grabbed Chris’s hand, putting it over your lap and caressing his hand with your thumb, gulping dryly and getting yourself ready to open up.

No one knows about this except your parents. You know you can count on Chris, and you’re sure he’s not gonna tell anyone if you ask. It was just really hard.

After a couple of minutes in complete silence, you sighed lowly before speaking in a calm and low voice, your body slightly trembling.

“I-i have an…” You paused, biting your bottom lip hardly, your eyes filling up again as you look up, trying to stop your tears from falling.

“It’s alright, take your time.” You smiled softly at Chris, your heart being consumed by your love for him.

“I have an eating disorder.” You blunt out, your voice almost inaudible. “I’m a compulsive eater.”

You can hear Chris’s breath hitching in his throat, as he holds your hands tightly. Chris could feel his heart shattering as he hears your confession. He would never think that, you were always so uptight with your diet and always eating so healthy, he imagined you just enjoyed staying healthy.

“That’s why my diets are so strict and i have certain hours to eat.” You whispered again, bringing your gaze to meet his eyes, as he looked at you so intensely and carefully.

“Baby, why didn’t you tell me this before?” Chris asks softly, his voice filled with worry and pain. He imagined you going through that alone, while he had no clue. “If i knew that i would have never said anything i said today. I’m so sorry, baby, i was an idiot.”

You chuckle weakly, chewing on your bottom lip.

“It’s okay, Chris, you didn’t know.” You smile slightly at him, holding his hand tighter. “I found out when i was sixteen, but i always knew something was wrong.”

“I hated my body, i hated everything about me, but yet, i couldn’t stop eating. I could be so full my stomach hurted, but i would still eat if anyone offered, or if i saw something i really liked it.”

Chris lets out a shaky breath, the thought of you hating yourself made his heart ache. Chris thinks you are the most beautiful person in the world, most perfect, smart, kind, the love of his life.

“I never want to go back to that, that’s why i’m so focused on my eating habits, and so obsessed over my weight.” Tears fell down on your cheeks, as you sigh quietly.

Chris stayed quiet for a seconds, before he pulled you into a tight hug. His face buried in your neck and his arms holding your wait so tightly like he was afraid you were gonna vanish.

He breaths in into the scent of your perfume, caressing you back gently, pulling closer to him, if that’s even possible.

You lean back just enough so he can see your face, as you look at him with your red and watery eyes, a serious expression across your face.

“Can you please keep this between us?” You ask lowly, breathing fast and short, chest rising up and down quickly.

“Your secret is safe with me.” Chris whispers, smiling softly, before pulling you into the embrace of his arms again.

“I love you so much, Y/n” He says into your hair, his own eyes burning with just the thought of everything you’ve been through.

“I love you, Chris, more than you know.” You reply, feeling comfort and love in your boyfriend’s arms, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

——————————————————————————

————————————— • ————————————

I really hope you like this!! I feel like BED is not remembered as much as it should, and me as a person who suffers with it, i feel like it should be talked more about it. It’s also an eating disorder, and i feel like people mistake anorexia as the only eating disorder.

All of the eating disorders should be treated with the help with therapists and nutritions. Remember, you’re not alone in this.

Love you all ❤️

[hischierswhore]

more angst pls HSKSHDH i love the way you wrote angst shit and hurt my feelings. maybe for puli this time. like a really toxic christian who did not give a fuck about reader’s feelings because fame gets into his head and a naive reader who just wants to be loved by him 😭

i just miss you

pairing: Christian Pulisic x Reader

TW: none

A/N: thank u bff! this isn’t too angsty (i’m working on a very angsty one rn. should be posted soon 🙂)

You’d been dating since you were both 18, and when Christian got picked to play for Chelsea, you moved overseas with him.

Lately he’s been intolerable, acting like you don’t exist anymore. He doesn’t even acknowledge you. He never plans anything with you. It’s always about the team.

Now you just feel like a burden on him. You can’t stand his attitude, and it is absolutely killing you.

You walked into the living room to see Christian sitting on the couch, scrolling through TikTok. You sat down next to him.

“Hey Chris. Can we talk?” You asked as Christian looked up from his phone for a split second.

“What’s up?” He turned his attention back to TikTok, which led you to sigh.

“You know what, nevermind. You’re not even paying attention” You stood up and walked to the kitchen, which caused Christian to put his phone down and chase after you.

“Sorry, Y/n. You’ve got my attention. What’s wrong?”

“You don’t see it? Chris, we’ve changed. I get you’re committed to your team, but you completely abandon me whenever you have events. Hell, you don’t even ask me to accompany you”

“I didn’t think you’d want to join” He shrugged.

“Well maybe if you asked, you would know that I did want to go with you! Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with my boyfriend of 6 years?” Your tone got a bit loud, so you attempted to lower it as you finished speaking.

Christian stared at you as he leaned against the counter next to you.

“Do you want me to take you to every game?” He wasn’t fully getting what you were trying to say.

“Oh my god you’re not understanding!” You shouted as you rubbed your hands across your face.

“This isn’t about football, Christian! It’s about the fact that you never spend time with me unless it involves football. I miss going on dates. I miss just staying in and watching movies with you all night. I just miss you, Chris, but you don’t see that” Your eyes began to fill with tears.

Christian put his hand on top of yours in attempt to help you calm down. You took in a deep breath.

“Shit, Y/n, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you felt like that.” His voice was soft and soothing, just like it usually was, but it still brought a little comfort.

“I’ll try to make more time for you, for us, princess” He grabbed you into a hug and whispered sweet things in your ear until your emotions finally settled.

When he pulled away from you, you gave him a weak smile before standing up straight.

“Let’s order some food.” He suggested before he picked you up and carried you to the couch.

You both watched Netflix while you ate burgers and fries on the couch. Christian pulled you close and wrapped you in his arms, squeezing you tightly. You sighed as he kissed your neck.

After another kiss along your jaw line, Christian pulled away to admire you as you laid in his arms.

He gently grabbed your hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I love you, Y/n” He whispered to you.

A lump formed in your throat as you smiled and squeezed his hand tighter.

He hadn’t said those words in months, and to finally hear them meant everything to you.

“I love you too, Christian” You smiled at him and he brought you into another kiss.

————————————————————————

Christian kept his promise to you. You followed Christian around everywhere now. You went with him to all of his games, you accompanied him to events and he even took you out at least twice a week.

And they weren’t spur of the moment or hastily planned outings either. They were thoroughly planned dates.

Christian still tried to work around his schedule, though. He’d plan things around his trainings & games, just for you.

His goal was to keep you happy, and he did just that. Every day was special because you spent it with him.

[braveclementine]

The Council Meeting

Warnings: None

Copyright: I do not own any Twilight characters or locations. I do own Davina Mikelson and Marcel. I also own the backstory for my OC. I do not condone any copying of this.

Davina P.O.V.

I spent much of the next few days, getting used to being back in Carlisle's house again. I hadn't wanted to move back in, not till we were married. The last time I had moved in, they had left a few months afterward. It was just a bad sense of deja vu.

I also spent quite a bit of time on the Rez. Especially with the council meeting coming up, I was helping Emily buy and plan the meal for the night. Mostly hotdogs and burgers. I would also make chili. We were thinking ten or fifteen bags of potato chips- family sized- might be enough. And maybe four pizzas. No, six.

Emily was going to call for pizzas. I told her I would make homemade ones. It would be faster and cheaper. Oh! And Chicken wings! Spicy ones at that.

But those, I called from Larosa's because those were the best kind.

On the day of the council meeting, Emily and I spent the majority of time cooking at our separate houses. Carlisle was my guard throughout the day, watching me and making idle conversation while I cooked.

"Everything is going to be alright." I responded. Carlisle- well really Lord- had spent a lot of time in the house, running circles in my bedroom like an idiot- though I never thought about him like that of course- trying to get the scent out of my room.

"So Alice has the wedding set for next Wednesday." Carlisle said softly. "A complete week from now."

"I've never been more nervous." I said, a lump in my throat.

"Why?" Carlisle questioned.

"It feels like a bad time to have a wedding." I admitted, "What with the possibility of vampires in Seattle, this rouge vampire, and also Victoria. I feel like Alice is rushing this wedding. But at the same time, I can't wait to be married to you."

Carlisle smiled softly, running his finger over the edge of one of the wine glasses I had set out. I didn't drink alcohol, but I used them as flower holders, soil in the bottom, small seeds placed in them. Small flowers to grow inside of them.

Like snow globes with tops.

"Will you take my last name?" He asked.

"Most definitely." I said with a small smile. "Davina Cullen. It has a nice sound to it."

"Marcel told Alice he'd come." Carlisle said.

"Yeah, I heard." I said. "I still haven't told the werewolves though. I probably should've done that a long time ago. What about the Denali clan?"

"Tanya, Kate, Carmen, and Eleazor will be coming. Irina will not." Carlisle said. "They have a grudge against the werewolves for killing Laurent. Apparently he was Irina's mate."

I stared at him incredulously, "Do they know that the reason Laurent is dead is because he was trying to kill me?"

Carlisle's eyes flickered and then he said, "It's been mentioned."

I scoffed, turning back to the fourth pizza. I had given two to Emily so that she could cook them there. My oven really only had room for two pizzas at a time.

The Chili sat in the crockpot, staying warm. I had a box that was filled with chip bags on the kitchen island. The ice that would go into the cooler and the drinks were in the freezer and fridge.

The pizzas were the last thing and I then ordered the wings so that everything would be done at the same time.

"We'll have to put the honeymoon off for a little while." Carlisle added. "Till Victoria is finished. I can't leave them here to defend themselves."

"I know." I said softly. "You'll have to let me know where we're going ahead of time though, so I can settle it with the army."

Carlisle snorted. "That's a stupid rule."

I smiled a little, closing the oven door, going and sitting next to Carlisle, "Yeah. Believe me. It's not my favorite rule either."

An hour later, Carlisle helped me load everything into the SUV and then he kissed me good-bye. "Be home safe." He murmured, kissing me repeatedly all over.

I giggled, reaching up to capture his lips before sliding into the driver's seat and heading to La Push.

Once I was there, Emily and I set all the food out around the campsite that we would be using on a long plastic table.

The werewolves and elders showed up first but Bella and Jacob came along not long after. Bella seemed nervous until Embry shouted, "Hey, vampire girl!"

Quil jumped to his feet to kiss her cheek and Emily hugged Bella as her and Jacob settled themselves down near Sam and her.

"Hungry Bella?" I asked with a teasing smile. "Us girls have to get the food first before the wolves dig into it."

I wasn't super hungry, just grabbing one of the bags of chips and some rootbeers, situating myself between Sam and Seth.

"You know, you made all that wonderful food." Sam said with a sigh, "And you go for the store bought junk food. You're going to get fat shorty."

"I have excellent metabolism, thank you very much ugly." I said, ripping open the Takis and popped on in my mouth. "Want one Seth?"

"Umm, they smell spicy."

"They're hot." I said.

Seth and I chatted easily, Leah listening in, but not talking. I knew she was probably grateful to be on this side of the fire, so that Sam and Emily were to her side, not in front of her where she could see them. Sam was mostly talking to the elders or to Emily, although he occasionally made a side comment to me, teasing me.

I was very quick in my comebacks.

I grew quiet as the sun started to go down, pulling out my laptop so that I could pull up Wattpad. I really wanted to get the legends written down and with my 100+ WPM and 97% accuracy rate, I would manage to get it down. Then I'd publish the 'histories' as 'myths'. Should be interesting.

"Are you gonna eat that hot dog?" I heard Paul ask. I looked up because most of the food was eaten by now and I wondered who he was talking to- which was Jacob.

Jacob had a spitted hot dog on the end of a coat hanger and he stared at the hot dog mournfully. "I guess. I'm so full I'm about to puke, but I think I can force it down. I won't enjoy it at all, though." He sighed sadly, full of crap, and I giggled.

"Paul, calm down." I warned him as he balled his fists up, glowering at Jacob.

"Sheesh." Jacob laughed, "Kidding, Paul. Here." And Jacob flipped the hot dog over to him. Paul caught it neatly and said, "Thanks, man."

I rolled my eyes.

Jacob and Bella muttered amongst themselves. Seth and I got up so let Sam move in with the council leaders and I situated myself between Embry and Seth. I leaned against Embry's shoulder. We had gradually moved from him calling me 'mom' to 'sister' and we were quite relaxed in each others' presence.

Billy cleared his throat and started to speak. I got out my laptop, making sure the light was dim, and poised my fingers over the keys.

"The Quileutes have been a small people from the beginning. And we are a small people still, but we have never disappeared. This is because there has always been magic in our blood. It wasn't always the magic of shape-shifting- that came later. First, we were spirit warriors."

I would have to come up with an entire backstory to everything to base these 'histories' off of. Maybe I'd simply just write about everything that had happened since I'd touched down in Forks. I'd have to change my character name though. Maybe to Grace.

"In the beginning, the tribe settled in this harbor and became skilled ship builders and fishermen. But the tribe was small, and the harbor was rich in fish. There were others who covered our land, and we were too small to hold it. A larger tribe moved against us, and we took to our ships to escape them. Kaheleha was not the first spirit warrior, but we do not remember the stories that came before his. We do not remember who was the first to discover this power, or how it had been used before this crisis. Kaheleha was the first great Spirit Chief in our history. In this emergency, Kaheleha used the magic to defend our land."

Spirit Chief. Spirit warriors. Kind've sounded like Spirit Animals. Now that was a great book series. I'd liked the mobile game too, but they got rid of it recently and I was pissed.

"He and all his warriors left the ship- not their bodies, but their spirits. Their women watched over the bodies and the waves, and the men took their spirits back to the harbor. They could not physically touch the enemy tribe, but they had other ways. The stories tell us that they could blow fierce winds into their enemy's camps; they could make a great screaming in the wind that terrified their foes. The stories also tell us that the animals could see the spirit warriors and understand them; the animals would do their bidding."

Could animals see ghosts? Or just spirits? Were they the same thing?

"Kaheleha took the spirit army and wreaked havoc on the intruders. This invading tribe had pakcs of big, thick-furred dogs that they used to pull their sleds in the frozen north. The spirit warriors turned the dogs against their masters and then brought a mighty infestation of bats up from the cliff caverns. They used the screaming wind to aid the dogs in confusing the men. The dogs and bats won. The survivors scattered, calling our harbor a cursed place. The dogs ran wild when the spirit warriors released them. The Quileutes returned to their bodies and their wives, victorious."

I really hated the word 'victorious'. It wounded like 'victory' and also 'Victoria'. There was no such thing as 'victory' in my life.

"The other nearby tribes, the Hohs and the Makahs, made treaties with the Quileutes. They wanted nothing to do with our magic. We lived in peace with them. When an enemy came against us, the spirit warriors could drive them off. Generations passed. then came the last great Spirit Chief, Taha Aki. He was known for this wisdom, and for being a man of peace. The people lived well and content in his care."

Sounded like Carlisle.

"But there was one man, Utlapa, who was not content."

There was a hiss that went around the fire, although Seth did not join in. How did you spell Utlapa? Oot-la-pa? Ut? Not entirely sure.

"Utlapa was one of the Chief Taha Aki's strongest spirt warriors- a powerful man, but a grasping man, too. He thought the people should use their magic to expand their lands, to enslave the Hohs and the Makahs and build an empire."

I could just call him 'Voldemort'.

"now, when the warriors were their spirit selves, they knew each other's thoughts. Taha Aki saw what Utlapa dreamed, and was angry with Utlapa. Utlapa was commanded to leave the people, and never use his spirit self again. Utlapa was a strong man, but the chief's warriors outnumbered him. He had no choice but to leave. The furious outcast hid in the forest nearby, waiting for a chance to get revenge against the chief."

"Even in times of peace, the Spirit Chief was vigilant in protecting his people. Often, he would go to a scared secret place in the mountains. He would leave his body behind and sweep down through the forests and along the coast, making sure no threat approached. One day when Taha Aki left to perform this duty, Utlapa followed. At first, Utlapa simply planned to kill the chief, but this plan had its drawbacks. Surely the spirit warriors would seek to destroy him, and they could follow faster than he could escape. As he hid in the rocks and watched the chief prepare to leave his body, another plan occurred to him."

"Taha Aki left his body in the secret place and flew with the winds to keep watch over his people. Utlapa waited until he was sure the chief had traveled some distance with his spirit self. Taha Aki knew it the instant that Utlapa had joined him in the spirt world, and he also knew Utlapa's murderous plan. He raced back to his secret place, but even the winds weren't fast enough to save him. When he returned, his body was already gone. Utlapa's body lay abandoned, but Utlapa had not left Taha Aki with an escape- he had cut his own body's throat with Taha Aki's hands."

I shivered. I would never, ever, want to be in someone else's' body. That seemed absolutely terrifying. I cracked my knuckles to keep them warm so they didn't freeze up as I continued to type.

"Taha Aki followed his body down the mountain. He screamed at Utlapa, but Utlapa ignored him as if he were mere wind."

Wasn't he?

"Taha Aki watched with despair as Utlapa took his place as chief of the Quileutes. For a few weeks, Utlapa did nothing but make sure that everyone believed he was Taha Aki. Then the changes began- Utlapa's first edict was to forbid any warrior to enter the spirit world. He claimed that he'd had a vision of danger, but really he was afraid. He knew that Taha Aki would be waiting for the chance to tell his story. Utlapa was also afraid to enter the spirit world himself, knowing Taha Aki would quickly claim his body. So his dreams of conquest with a spirit warrior army were impossible, and he sought to content himself with ruling over the tribe. He became a burden- seeking privileges that Taha Aki had never requested, refusing to work alongside his warriors, taking a young second wife and then a third, though Taha Aki's wife lived on- something unheard of in the tribe. Taha Aki watched in helpless fury."

That was absolutely revolting. Watching your body be with other women that weren't your wife.

"Eventually, Taha Aki tried to kill his body to save the tribe from Utlapa's excesses. He brought a fierce wolf down from the mountains, but Utlapa hid behind his warriors. When the wolf killed a young man who was protecting the false chief, Taha Aki felt horrible grief. He ordered the wolf away."

My hands shook a little with that and I closed my eyes briefly. Embry suddenly squeezed my shoulder and I opened my eyes, looking at him with silent thanks.

"All the stories tell us that it was no easy thing to be a spirit warrior. It was more frightening than exhilarating to be freed from one's body. This is why they only used their magic in times of need. The chief solitary journeys to keep watch were a burden and a sacrifice. Being bodiless was disorienting, uncomfortable, and horrifying. Taha Aki had been away from his body for so long at this point that he was in agony. He felt he was doomed- never to cross over to the final land where his ancestors waited, stuck in this torturous nothingness forever."

So, if there was a wolf afterlife thing. . . would I end up there? I didn't know and that made me feel weird inside.

"The great wolf followed taha Aki's spirit as he twisted and writhed in agony through the woods. The wolf was very large for its kind, and beautiful. Taha Aki was suddenly jealous of the dumb animal. At least it had a body. At least it had a life. Even life as an animal would be better than this horrible empty consciousness. And then Taha Aki had the idea that change us all. He asked the great wolf to make room for him, to share. The wolf complied. Taha Aki entered the wolf's body with relief and gratitude. It was not his human body, but it was better than the void of the spirit world."

So. . . say a mountain lion had followed him instead? Would he have shared the mountain lions body? What of an Eagle? Did this mean there weren't really werewolves at all? Instead. . . maybe just shape-shifters?

"As one, the man and the wolf returned to the village on the harbor. The people ran in fear, shouting for the warriors to come. The warriors ran to meet the wolf with their spears. Utlapa, of course, stayed safely hidden. Taha Aki did not attack his warriors. He retreated slowly from them, speaking with his eyes and trying to yelp the songs of his people. The warriors began to realize that the wolf was no ordinary animal, that there was a spirit influencing it. One older warrior, a man named Yut, decided to disobey the false Chief's order and try to communicate with the wolf."

"As soon as Yut crossed to the spirit world, Taha Aki left the wolf- the animal waited tamely for his return- to speak with him. Yut gathered the truth in an instant, and welcomed his true chief home. At this time, Utlapa came to see if the wolf had been defeated. When he saw Yut lying lifeless on the ground, surrounded by protective warriors, he realized what was happening. He drew his knife and raced forward to kill Yut before he could return to his body."

I closed my eyes, pausing for a moment, even as Billy continued with the story, writing only chicken notes as this part was easy to imagine. I hated death. I hated writing about death. I knew death came with old stories like this, but it didn't make the pain any less easy.

". . . Taha Aki's anger was the anger of a man. The love he had for his people and the hatred he had for their oppressor were too vast for the wolf's body, too human. The wolf shuddered, and- before the eyes of the shocked warriors and Utlapa- transformed into a man. The new man did not look like Taha Aki's body. He was far more glorious. He was the flesh interpretation of Taha Aki's spirit. The warriors recognized him at once, though, for they had flown with Taha Aki's spirit."

I dozed out as Billy talked about Utlapa's death. The giving back of the wives, but keeping the law of no spirit traveling in place.

"From that point on, Taha Aki was more than either wolf or man. They called him Taha Aki the Great Wolf, or Taha Aki the Spirit Man. He led the tribe for many, many years, for he did not age. When danger threatened, he would resume his wolf-self to fight or frighten the enemy. The people dwelt in peace. Taha Aki fathered many sons, and some of these found that, after they had reached the age of manhood, they, too, could transform into wolves. The wolves were all different, because they were spirit wolves and reflected the man they were inside."

"So that's why Sam is all black. Black heart, black fur." Quil muttered under his breath and it took me a moment to realize I had typed that sentence out. I giggled quietly while deleting it.

"And your chocolate fur reflects what? How sweet you are?" Sam muttered back. I grinned, winking at him.

"I'd be ultra violet." I muttered in Seth's year. "Purple wolf."

Seth snickered.

Billy Black ended the story, drinking water as he let Quil Ateara, Quils grandfather, take over the story.

Quil's grandfathers voice was nowhere near as majestic as Billy's was, but there was a fierce urgency in his voice as he spoke, making you want to listen. The quavering in his voice also gave it the sound of something, like someone was speaking a script in a movie, providing the backstory for it. . .

"Many years after Taha Aki gave up his spirit wolf, when he was an old man, trouble began in the north, with the Makahs. Several young women of their tribe had disappeared, and they blamed it on the neighboring wolves, who they feared and mistrusted. The wolf-men could still read each other's thoughts while in their wolf forms, just like their ancestors had while in their spirit forms. They knew that none of their number was to blame. Taha Aki tried to pacify the Makah chief, but there was too much fear."

'Fear in the name only increases fear in the thing itself.' I thought randomly. Great, thank you Dumbledore, that was helpful.

"Taha Aki did not want to have a war on his hands. He was no longer a warrior to lead his people. He charged his oldest wolf-son, Taha Wi, with finding the true culprit before hostilities began."

'Wii Wii' I thought in a French accent.

Fuck, I was probably the only person in the entire world that could think really stupid thoughts when hearing these stories. And these were my descendants too! There was something tragically wrong with me.

"Taha Wi led the five other wolves in his pack on a search through the mountains, looking for any evidence of the missing Makahs. They came across something they had never encountered before- a strange, sweet scent in the forest that burned their noses to the point of pain."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, rearranging the laptop to sit lower on my legs as I typed.

"They did not know what creature would leave such a scent, but they followed it. They found faint traces of human scent, and human blood, along the trail. They were sure this was the enemy they were searching for. The journey took them so far north that Taha Wi sent half the pack, the younger ones, back to the harbor to report to Taha Aki. Taha Wi and his two brothers did not return."

I flinched. Embry placed his hand on my shoulder again.

"The younger brothers searched for their elders, but found only silence. Taha Aki mourned for his sons. He wished to avenge his sons' death, but he was old. He went to the Makah chief in his mourning clothes and told him everything that had happened. The Makah chief believed his grief, and tensions ended between the tribes. A year later, two Makah maidens disappeared from their homes on the same night. The Makahs called on the Quileute wolves at once, who found the same sweet stink all through the Makah village. The wolves went on the hunt again."

I was not thinking of wolves, but of my brother at Fort Knox.

"Only one came back. He was Yaha Uta, the oldest son of Taha Aki's third wife, and the youngest in the pack. He brought something with him that had never been seen in all the days of the Quileutes- a strange, cold, stony corpse that he carried in pieces. All who were of Taha Aki's blood, even those who had never been wolves, could smell the piercing smell of the dead creature. This was the enemy of the Makahs."

I shouldn't have come survived the bombs. Why hadn't I dragged my brother with me when I went to hide in the game? Why didn't I hide with my brother instead of Azim?

"Yaha uta described what had happened: he and his brothers had found the creature, who looked like a man but was hard as a granite rock, with the two Makah daughters. One girl was already dead, white and bloodless on the ground. The other was in the creature's arms, his mouth at her throat. She may have been alive when they came upon the hideous scene, but the creature quickly snapped her neck and tossed her lifeless body to the ground when they approached. His white lips were covered in her blood and his eyes glowed red."

People had been thrown at the base, high into the air when the bombs had gone off. Had they landed on their feet, some of them might've survived. But they were flung upside down, landing on their necks which had broken. Some of them had still been able to scream- I could still hear them in my nightmares.

I was reeling in my nightmares, not paying attention to the story anymore but no one noticed. They were all locked in on the story. It was strange that a story of werewolves and vampires was making me relive the entire battle again.

". . . elders set fire to the remains. A great cloud of choking, vile smoke polluted the air. When there was nothing but ashes, they separated the ashes into many small bags and spread them far and wide- some in the ocean, some in the forest, some in the cliff caverns. Taha Aki wore one bag around his neck, so he would be warned if the creature ever tried to put himself together again."

When the older man paused, looking at Billy, Billy produced a small bag, black with age, around his neck. I heard people gasp but I was not one of them. I was horrified. Yes, it was good that even after all these years, the enemy could not put itself together. . . but say the Volturi burned my family in the future. Carlisle. . . he would never be able to be put back together.

I felt sick with worry. I had to protect Carlisle at all costs. No matter what. I could not let anyone lay a hand on him.

"They call it The Cold One, the Blood Drinker, and lived in fear that it was not alone. They only had one wolf protector left, young Yaha Uta. They did not have long to wait. The creature had a mate, another blood drinker, who came to the Quileutes seeking revenge. The stories say that the Cold Woman was the most beautiful thing human eyes had ever seen. She looked like the goddess of the dawn when she entered the village that morning; the sun was shining for once, and it glittered off her white skin and lit the golden hair that flowed down to her knees. Her face was magical in its beauty, her eyes black in her white face. Some fell to their knees to worship her."

I could imagine her. She looked like Rosalie.

"She asked something in a high, piercing voice, in a language no one had ever heard. The people were dumbfounded not knowing how to answer her. There was none of Taha Aki's blood among the witnesses but one small boy. He clung to his mother and screamed that the smell was hurting his nose. One of the elders, on his way to council, heard the boy and realized what had come among them. He yelled for the people to run. She killed him first."

"There were twenty witnesses to the Cold Woman's approach. Two survived, only because she grew distracted by the blood, and paused to sate her thirst. They ran to Taha Aki, who sat in the counsel with the other elders, his sons, and his third wife. Yaha Uta transformed into his spirt wolf as soon as he heard the news. He went to destroy the blood drinker alone. Taha Aki, his third wife, his sons, and his elders followed behind him."

Yes, what a great idea. 'Hey, let's go watch our only wolf son go and destroy a cold one that he needed two of his other brothers to kill the first time! I'll bring popcorn!'

"At first they could not find the creature, only the evidence of her attack. Bodies lay broken, a few drained of blood, strewn across the road where she'd appeared. Then they heard the screams and hurried to the harbor. A handful of the Quileutes had run to the ships for refuge. She swam after them like a shark, and broke the bow of their boat with her incredible strength. When the ship sank, she caught those trying to swim away and broke them, too."

I wondered how Sam had gotten me out of the water when Victoria had jumped in after throwing me in. He hadn't been in there as a wolf. Maybe the others had jumped too and Victoria had fled, not knowing how the wolves would be in the water.

I had never asked Sam.

"She saw the great wolf on the shore, and she forgot the fleeing swimmers. She swam so fast she was a blur and came, dripping and glorious, to stand before Yaha Uta. She pointed at him with one white finger and asked another incomprehensible question. Yaha Uta waited. It was a close fight. She was not the warrior her mate had been. But Yaha Uta was alone- there was no one to distract her fury from him. When Yaha Uta lost, Taha Aki screamed in defiance. He limped forward and shifted into an ancient, white-muzzled wolf. The wolf was old, but this was Taha Aki the Spirit Man, and his rage made him strong. The fight began again. Taha Aki's wife had just seen her son die before her. Now her hsuband fought, and she had no hope that he could win. She'd heard every word the witnesses to the slaughter had told the council. She'd heard the story of Yaha Uta's first victory, and knew that his brother's diversion had saved him."

'Oh wonderful. This was not a good story to tell Bella.' I thought and shot her a look.

"The third wife grabbed a knife from the belt of one of the sons who stood beside her. They were all young sons, not yet men, and she knew they would die when their father failed."

Maybe they shouldn't be telling me this story either. Wouldn't I give my life to save any of my wolf sons? Any of my vampire children? I thought it over seriously. I had thrown myself on Angel when the bombs went off. Though I had never harmed myself, I'm sure I could take a knife to my skin to protect my children, wolf or vampire.

"The third wife ran toward the Cold Woman with the dagger raised high. The Cold Woman smiled, barely distracted from her fight with the old wolf. She had no fear of the weak human woman or the knife that would not even scratch her skin, and she was about to deliver the death blow to Taha Aki."

Now, the Cold Woman to me was no longer Rosalie, but Jane.

"And then the third wife did something the Cold Woman did not expect. She fell to her knees at the blood drinker's feet and plunged the knife into her own heart."

Why the heart? Any release of blood would've done. She could've dragged it along her arm. But maybe she thought if she died, she would not feel the pain of the vampire's teeth.

"Blood spurted through the third wife's fingers and splashed against the Cold Woman. The blood drinker could not resist the lure of the fresh blood leaving the third wife's body. Instinctively, she turned to the dying woman, for one second entirely consumed by thirst. Taha Aki's teeth closed around her neck. That was not the end of the fight, but Taha Aski was not alone now. Watching their mother die, two young sons felt such rage that they sprang forth as their spirit wolves, though they were not yet men. With their father, they finished the creature."

Maybe Leah was wrong. Maybe there was nothing wrong with her. Maybe there was something wrong with me. Her father died, she became a werewolf. I killed 2,000 people with two rounds of bombs and I didn't- though I should've. Why hadn't I phased yet?

"Taha Aki never rejoined the tribe. He never changed back to a man again. He lay for one day beside the body of the third wife, growling whenever anyone tried to touch her, and then he went into the forest and never returned. Trouble with the cold ones was rare from that time on. Taha Aki's sons guarded the tribe until their sons were old enough to take their places. There were never more than three wolves at a time. It was enough. Occasionally a blood drinker would come through these lands, but they were taken by surprise, not expecting the wolves. Sometimes a wolf would die, but never were they decimated again like the first time. They'd learned how to fight the cold ones, and they passed the knowledge on, wolf mind to wolf mind, spirit to spirit, father to son."

Father to son.

Me or Leah. Which one of us was wrong?

"Time passed, and the descendants of Taha Aki no longer became wolves when they reached manhood. Only in a great while, if a cold one was near, would the wolves return. The cold ones always came in ones and twos, and the pack stayed small. A bigger coven came, and your own great-grandfathers prepared to fight them off. But the leader spoke to Ephraim Black as if he were a man, and promised not to harm the Quileutes. His strange yellow eyes gave some proof to his claim that they were not the same as other blood drinkers. The wolves were outnumbered; there was no need for the cold ones to offer a treaty when they could have won the fight. Ephraim accepted. They've stayed true to their side, though their presence does tend to draw in others."

I smiled a bit at Carlisle. 'He spoke to Ephraim like a man'. Yes, that was my love all right. My mate.

"And their numbers have forced a larger pack than the tribe has ever seen. Except, of course, in Taha Aki's time. And so the sons of our tribe again carry the burden and share the sacrifice their fathers endured before them."

'And daughter', I wanted to add for Leah's sake. 'And daughter.'

"Burden," Quil said, startling me, "I think it's cool."

Seth nodded beside me.

Slowly, the group became less still, Old Quil Aterea's eyes finally left me, and I drew away from the campsite quietly and without anyone's notice.

I walked along the beach, looking up at the bright stars. With no lights out here, you could see them more clearly.

Once I was in the forest, I squatted down, breaths heavy, trying not to cry.

What the hell was wrong with me? Why was I acting like this?

"KOL! KOL WHERE ARE YOU?" I screamed, running through the base. 'Please let him be alive, please let him be alive. Let another bomb go off, let another bomb destroy me, just please let Kol be alive.'

I let out a shuddering breath as tears started to fall down my face.

'Father to son.'

Who was messed up? Leah or me?

Me. It was me. I should be a werewolf. I should be.

"Davina?" Sam's voice came quietly.

"Sorry." I murmured, my voice thick. "I. . . the story. . . I was just wondering what was wrong with me?"

"What?" Sam asked curiously, kneeling down next to me. "What are you talking about?"

"The sons who watched their mother die and became werewolves. And Leah became a werewolf after Harry died. My parents, my brother, 2,000 people. . . and I'm not." I let out a shuddering breath. "I'm screwed up. I should be a werewolf, I should've felt rage at Azim's betrayal. But I'm not a werewolf. Other emotions kick in before I can get to angry. It doesn't. . . there's something wrong with me!"

"There is nothing wrong with you." Sam said firmly. "Nothing at all. Females aren't supposed to be werewolves, it's unheard of. But there are always loopholes when it comes to magic."

I nodded but before I could answer, my phone rang. "H-hello?" I asked, wiping my nose and sniffling.

"Davina." Marcel's voice was thick with emotion.

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately, jolting to my feet.

"It's your Uncle Josh." Marcel said.

"Umm what about Joshua?" I asked hesitantly and Sam's face grew hard.

"I don't know how to say this in a way to cushion the blow but. . . he's dead Davina. I'm sorry."

[lightupthemoon]

The Effect You Got On Me: From The Vault (No. 10)

No. 10: it's gonna take me a minute but I could get used to this

No. 1 // No. 2 // No. 3 // No. 4 // No. 5 // No. 6 // No. 7 // No. 8 // No. 9

Summary: You get a call after missing Kate's competition. Drabble collection based on the events of The Effect You Got On Me.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader.

Song: Used to This by Camila Cabello.

Warnings: Fluff. However, 18+ for previous parts, minors DNI.

Word count: 1.7 K

Read on AO3 // PLAYLIST

Author's Note: WE ARE FINALLY HERE. The end of my TEYGOM era. Thank you all so much for the comments, likes, and reblogs on both this little project and the main story, I am so very happy you enjoyed it as much as I did writing it. This one is a different version of the apology in Part 5, which I only changed bc I wanted to add spice. Enjoy!

You hated missing Kate’s competition. The anger you felt had morphed into aching, a feeling so big you couldn’t ignore it even if you tried. You wanted to be there for her, with her, but the idea of showing up unnerved you, especially not knowing where you stood with Kate anymore. You weren’t exactly sure how it’d feel if Kate saw you there in the stands, cheering for her, and she didn’t even glance your way. The last few weeks had been painful enough to last you a lifetime– you didn’t want to find out. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t sit still in your room. Your phone had been off for a couple of days to avoid Peter’s insistence on fixing the situation so things could go back to normal, and without any distractions, being within the four walls of your dorm room drove you insane. You decided the safest place to be was your hideout, that old diner off-campus that you loved so much,  bringing a small mountain of assignments with you to kill the time and keep your mind off the competition. After spending most of your college years visiting the place, the owner knew and liked you, letting you stay there all day without hesitation. He asked about Kate, wondering why she hadn't come in with you for a while, but you only smiled and said she was busy. It was all you could manage to say without feeling like crying. 

You half ate your burger and nibbled at your fries, finishing your chocolate milkshake with a loud slurp. You weren’t exactly a fan of chocolate milkshakes, but Kate loved them. It was all you had left. You set the empty glass aside, staring out of the window. The sun was coming down, which meant the competition was probably over. In one last attempt to convince you to show up America had mentioned that the group intended to have dinner at Yelena's to celebrate, and you hated how game night and celebrations with your friends were now out of your reach. 

You sighed loudly, shaking the thought from your mind, your gaze falling on the old clock at the far end of the diner. It was just past 7:35 PM. Your friends should be well on their way to Yelena’s, celebrating Kate’s latest first place. You pulled your phone out of the backpack sitting next to you on the booth, turning it on. It immediately started chirping with missing phone calls and texts appearing on your screen, most from Peter and the occasional one from Yelena. You dismissed all of them, not willing to deal with that just yet. You gathered your things, throwing them into your backpack. 

Your phone buzzed on the table, and you rolled your eyes, picking up a fry and answering without looking at the screen. “Petey boy, is what you have to tell me so important that you can't wait until tomorrow?" 

"I mean, I'm not Peter but it is very important." You almost choked on your fry. 

You pulled your phone from your ear, staring in disbelief at the name on the screen. 

"Kate?" 

“Hi.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "You have something to tell me?" 

"Yeah. I passed by your dorm but no one answered." 

"Yeah, I'm not–ar-are–America said you were going to Yelena's," You stuttered, shutting your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. 

"Yeah, they all are at Yelena's.” You could almost picture her on the other line by the tone of her voice, nervously scratching the back of her neck. “I'll go later, I just needed to see you first." 

Your heart raced so fast you were sure it would jump out of your ribcage. "Why?" 

"I had a competition and you weren't there." 

You sighed, pushing your plate of food a little. "Well, we aren't exactly friends anymore, are we?"

"Oh, no, yeah, we are not friends anymore. I don't think we can be again, to be honest." 

"Okay, cool." You blinked, hoping your voice didn't sound as hurt as you felt. "If that's all you had to say, I'll go." 

Kate didn't say anything else, and you took her silence as her answer. You ended the call, feeling worse than you did before she called. A shuddering breath escaped you, the corners of your eyes itching a little. You threw the rest of your stuff into your backpack, leaving a few bucks on the table, and walked out of the diner while looking down at your shoes. The summer-like air hit your face as soon as you opened the door, as hot and heavy as the pain in your heart. You couldn’t wait to go back home and sulk, away from everything and anything that reminded you of–

"You gotta start letting me talk, you know."

You snapped your head up so fast your neck hurt at the sound of that voice, your eyes opening wide as saucers. Kate was leaning against the hood of your car with her arms crossed over her chest and her gloves poking out of her pocket, still wearing her archery suit. Her expression was unreadable but your heart still leaped at the sight of her. 

You gripped your backpack straps tighter, not daring to walk one more step. “I think you’ve said plenty.”

“No, I haven’t,” Kate exhaled, letting her arms drop to her sides. “At least not the important things, anyway.”

“What is it then, Kate?”

"You weren't there," she responded simply, smoothing her tongue over her lips after she spoke. She closed her eyes, seemingly trying to contain tears from falling but it was useless. When she opened them again, the blue in her eyes seemed glossy. Her voice cracked as she repeated, “I had a competition and you weren’t there.”

You could have sworn you heard your heart shatter inside you at her words, resisting the urge to lean in and wipe the tears off her face. You never wanted to see her like this, to be the reason behind the heaving of her chest as she breathed. You sniffled looking down, unable to hold her gaze. 

“Honestly, I didn’t think you wanted to see me.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Kate muttered, pushing herself off your car and slowly walking towards you. One of her hands grabbed you by the waist, emanating goosebumps with its touch over the fabric of your clothes, pulling you as close to her as she could, almost like she would die if she didn’t have every part of her body touching yours. You felt her chest rising and falling against your own, the calloused fingers of her free hand reaching for your cheek, making you look back into the ocean in her eyes as she pressed her forehead to yours, taking you in. "You were the only one I wanted to see." 

Before you could say anything else, her lips found yours in a kiss that felt like a breath of fresh air. Her mouth was soft, eager, and urgent against yours, and for the first time in weeks, you felt complete. She relished in the taste of your lips, so familiar and intoxicating, a welcomed reminder of why she had fallen for you in the first place. A small whimper escaped you, your hands falling to rest on her hips, your mouths savoring every second of the passionate kiss as if it were your last. You resented your lungs for needing air, drawing back as slowly as you could, and she chased after your lips as if the mere idea of not kissing you was unfathomable to her. Your heart was beating in your ears, your mouths ghosting over one another as you breathed each other in, the tension in the air so thick you felt if any of you spoke the magic would disappear. She pressed another kiss to your lips, achingly sweet this time, the back of her thumb caressing your cheek as she did so. 

Finally, she licked her lips, and said, "I'm sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I just started having all these feelings I never had before and it freaked me out. I didn’t know what to do so I ran away. But my days without you have been hell and I need you to know that it was never just sex. You mean so much more to me. I think you always have and I just didn’t see it.” Kate sighed, her hold on your waist tightening. “But I see it now. You’re my favorite person in the world. I know I’m not Sharon, and we don’t have the history you have with her, and I don’t know what I’m doing but I need you to know that I want you, and only you. I've never wanted anything as badly as I want you."

You saw the fear in her eyes at her confession. You brought your hands to her face, stroking her cheeks with the back of your thumbs in an attempt to soothe her, a soft smile inevitably drawing on your lips. Kate leaned into your touch, waiting for you to speak. 

"Why didn't you just say that?" You muttered softly. "We could have avoided a lot of things." 

"I was scared. I still am," Kate responded in a small voice. "It's so scary to feel this way." 

You pressed your forehead to hers, a small chuckle escaping your throat. "I'm scared, too, Katie," You admitted. "But I have also never felt this way before, and I don't mind being scared as long as I get to be with you." 

You saw the moment of realization hit Kate like a truck, immediately trapping your lips in another kiss with the ghost of a teary smile on the corners of her mouth. You giggled, wrapping your arms around her neck and getting lost in her essence, a new feeling brewing within you that felt a whole lot like peace. 

She pulled away with that beautiful grin of hers you loved so much. “Does that mean you have feelings for me, too?”

You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly, matching her smile. “Yes it does, you idiot.”

She circled her arms around you, making you squeal as she lifted you from the ground and spun you around, laughter bubbling out of the both of you while you held onto her neck for dear life. When she put you down, she wrapped you in a tight hug, one that made every sorrow you carried in your heart disappear instantly. 

TAGLIST: @sunshadesnrainbowz @imlike-so-gaydude @hopingforromanoff @ittynyte @girlssnrosess @assgardangod @musicinourlips @youralphawolf72

[littlelioncub43]

Titles

Summary: Dennis overhears you talking to your friend on the phone. What he hears changes everything. 

Pairing: Dennis Baker x Female!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, Dennis being insecure but growing as a person, implied smut, Dennis and reader being cutie patooties. 

Word Count: 903

A/N: Jeepers, ok, but Dennis has been on my mind for the last few weeks now. If I have a problem, I’m gonna make it your guys’ problem too. I’m taking you down with me! Baha, but this one is sweet and cute and all about that character development baybeeeeeee. Also, I need to say that in this little universe thing I created— DENNIS HAS NEVER EATEN TOILET BURGERS, OK? NOT HERE. HE’S BETTER THAN THAT HERE. But with all that said, sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight. Flight attendants, prepare for cross check and all-call.

Kisses 💋

—K

“So, how’s it going with that Dennis guy?” Your friend Mara asked through the phone. You bit your lip, playing with the tassels of one of your couch throw pillows as you fought off a bashful smile. 

“Things are going really good,” you reply as the smile spread across your face. Things were going absolutely perfect with Dennis. You’d been on quite a lot of dates over the last few weeks, and you two seemed to go together like bread and butter. He was still pretty shy around you, but he’s definitely blossomed as time went on. He even started holding your hand in public, something that used to terrify him. His ex-wife never let him walk next to her let alone hold her hand, so breaking out of that habit was a big thing for him. It also didn’t help that in the back of his mind, a voice told him that you didn’t want to be seen with him. 

“Spill! I want to hear everything,” Mara gushed, making you laugh. You’re too caught up in your gleeful laughter that you don’t hear Dennis unlock the door. 

“Ok! So, he’s—“ you sigh, to catch your breath, “Dennis is…” you trail off, trying to find the words. The moment Dennis hears his name, he’s glued to his spot in the hallway. He feels a pit form in his stomach— were you talking about him behind his back? He stays as quiet as he can as he watches you from behind. “He’s absolutely wonderful, Mara.”

The pit that was gnawing at his gut dissipates the moment you happily sigh your response. Dennis feels a fluttering in his chest at your words, the way you spoke held an expression that he can only describe as dreamy. You sigh again and continue. 

“He’s so sweet, and funny, and respectful—he asks if he can hold my hand or kiss me, and he actually listens to me when I talk, and he can hold a conversation, and—” you list excitedly, “oh, God, and he’s so cute and hot, Mara— so fucking hot!” 

Dennis’ face burned cherry red at your words. The bashful feeling was natural, he wasn’t used to someone calling him hot. He wasn’t used to the compliments either, but he wore a giddy smile regardless. It was nice to hear. Especially from you.

“My, my, my,” Mara chuckles fondly, “he sounds like a complete package, this guy, huh?” 

“I certainly think so,” you laugh softly.

“So, is he your boyfriend?” She asks bluntly. You stop to think for a moment. Was Dennis your boyfriend? Dennis held his breath as you stayed silent, his heart pounding in his chest as he awaited your answer. 

“Yeah, Dennis is my boyfriend,” you decided with a small smile and a shy whisper. You weren’t embarrassed to say it, but the sacred feeling of the words rolling off your tongue would make anyone a little shy. 

“I’m your boyfriend?” Dennis asks loudly, his eyes wide and mouth hung agape as he stared at you on the couch. You whipped your head around, nearly jumping off the couch entirely in shock. You quickly hang up the phone when you hear Mara’s signature wheezing laughter. You stand staring at him for a moment, you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to read his expression but failed. 

“W-Well… I think so,” you stated cautiously, the last thing you wanted to do was to scare him off. The look on his face gave nearly nothing away to what he might be feeling, which only added to your nerves. Your face was burning with embarrassment and worry. “Don’t you?”

Your voice was so small when you asked the question that Dennis nearly missed it. When he blinked, he was finally able to tell how nervous you looked. You were wringing your hands and shifting from foot to foot. Dropping his work bag to the floor with a loud thump, he crossed the distance between you in 3 large strides. You feel his large arms engulf you entirely, scooping you up and into his firm chest as he claimed your lips with his own. The surprised squeak you let out against his lips made Dennis smile and hold you even tighter. Eventually, your arms found their place around his neck, deepening the passionate kiss even more. 

He tore his lips from yours when his lungs burned for air. You were grinning as you gasped for breath, a string of spit connected your lips. Dennis returned your smile with ease, and you swear that you never knew he could smile like that. His face was flushed and nearly beet red, he felt like he was dancing on clouds. 

“I’m your boyfriend,” he muttered softly with a bashful smile, then he groaned under his breath and tightened his hold on you, his voice dropping an octave or two, “and you’re my girlfriend.”

“Mmhmm,” you nod and look up at him through your eyelashes when you noticed his smoldering gaze, “I’m your girlfriend,” you lower your voice to a whisper as you lean in to peck his lips teasingly, “I’m all yours, Den.” 

You smirk when you hear him whimper and feel a shiver wrack his larger frame. Dennis nearly melted at your words. ‘I’m all yours, Den.’ He liked the sound of that. And he was going to show you just how much.

I no longer have a taglist! If you want to stay up-to-date on when I post, follow @littlelioncub-library to be notified when I post!

Dividers made by the lovely @firefly-graphics 💖

[miyuwuki]

“do you think it’s scary?”

warnings: angst

kagami taiga x reader

a/n: 🎧 anon if you’re out there, this is for you

you both agreed.

you both agreed that this will be your last day together, and after that you’d move on with your lives without each other. at this point, your relationship was far too damaged that it was beyond its fixing point; all the yelling, insults, betrayal all accumulated until it was too much. and that’s why you both agreed to spend one last day together, because despite the hurt, you guys loved each other endlessly.

“wow, i am so full,” you said, stretching your arms up into the air as the chilly air tickled your tummy. “maji burgers never fail.”

“i could go for round two, honestly.” kagami replied, walking next to you with his hands behind his head. “follow me, i wanna take you somewhere.”

“where?”

“don’t ask questions, just come.” he grabbed your hand and led you through the streets, where the city was glowing with its lights and stars. you remembered when you first moved here and you instantly fell in love with the lively part of town, but all that city noise that were ringing in your ears slowly quieted down, and suddenly you were in front of a ravine with a small hill.

“this is where you asked me out after school, yeah?” you giggled, sitting down on the hill. kagami followed right after you and put his arm around you, your instant reaction being laying on his shoulder.

“the day’s ending.” he mumbled, still staring onto the ravine. little fishes were jumping high and low.

“mhm,” you nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “it is.”

“do you remember what i said when i first asked you out?” he snickered. “that i’d take care of you because i’m big, bad, and bold.”

“that was stupid,” you teased. “you’re anything but big, bad, and bold— you’re like a little baby.”

“am not!” he huffed. “but i’m sorry, y/n. i..” he gulped, “i couldn’t live up to that. i couldn’t take care of you like i said i would.”

“oh don’t get sappy on me,” you turned your head to look at him, “you took very good care of me, taiga. in fact, you were like my babysitter. y/n, don’t do this, y/n, this is not good for you. honestly though, i’m thankful for it.”

it was silent for a bit, thoughts racing through both of your heads as it was the only thing you both heard. your mind spiralled to all the good things you and kagami been through, from the time seirin got their first win to when you were sick and he stayed with you the entire time— he even slept on the floor just so he can keep an eye on you. and when you told him that he won’t get sleep like that, he said that he’d at least suffer from sleep deprivation because it was nothing to what you were feeling. oh how times have changed since then. because here you both were, spending everything together for one last time.

“today was fun,” you muttered. and it was true; there was no fight, you guys went to play at an arcade, went bowling, watched a movie, and feasted at a cheap fast food place (maji burger) like it was your last meal— that place will always be you and his place.

he nodded, and you continued. “i’m really sorry for everything, taiga.” despite the lump forming in your throat, you kept going, “i wasn’t a very good girlfriend, was i? i don’t know what happened, to be honest.”

kagami pursed his lips, “we just lost ourselves in this relationship. that’s all— it was both of our faults, and,” his voice croaked, “and i guess the love wasn’t enough.”

tears slipped from your eyes, “gosh, i wish i could turn back time and do everything again. i don’t want this to end. i don’t want to lose you.”

“i wish too, y/n. but things don’t work like that.” he checked his phone, which read 11:30 PM, “it’s getting late, we have to go soon.”

“do you think it’s scary?”

“what is?” he questioned.

“to be without each other. do you think it’s scary? i don’t know what to do after this.” kagami stood up, taking both of your hands and hoisted you up. he bent down and cupped your cheeks, and brought his forehead to yours, connecting both of your warmths. “yeah, i think it is.” he came closer, “and i can’t imagine my life without you. but we both know we need this, or we’ll stay..” he paused before hesitantly answering, “we’ll stay unhappy. and y/n, i never, ever, want to hate you. you are so important to me and i want you to be the happiest you can be. i want you to live freely without any regrets; try that new dessert place. go to bali and have fun. get another chance at falling in love with someone who will give you the world because i couldn’t.”

you were crying harder, sobs filling the void as you hugged him one last time. he rubbed your back and wept into your hair, shaking softly as he didn’t wanna let you go. internally, he was breaking apart, because to him you were more than anything else he held dear.

“i’m so sorry,” you cried, “i’m so so sorry.”

“i’m sorry, too.”

“i’ll always love you,” you hiccuped, “no matter what, i will always love you. whether you get married to another girl or i get married to another guy, i will always think about you. when i wake up, before i sleep, fuck— even in my dreams. you’re my forever even if we weren’t meant for it.”

he smiled. smiled at you through his glassy eyes, the smile he first showed you when he first told you he loved you.

unfortunately your relationship with him was beyond repair, but the love will always be something legendary.

“and you know i’ll love you for the rest of my life too, y/n.”

“thank you for everything. thank you for loving me.”

ok im acc sobbing now. like tears full on streaming and shit. im crying.

anyways i hope this was good :’)

*＊✿❀reblogs and likes are appreciated❀✿＊*

[jiminrings]

lunchbox koo first time ughhh it’ll be so cute >< jungkook is shy but after the first time he gets freaky and gets more confident regarding that

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

it’s stem koo’s first time, and he could cry in bliss just knowing that it’s with you — it would always be you.

Jungkook thinks he shouldn't complain.

He thinks he shouldn't complain not because there isn't any room for it (plenty for it actually), but because he thinks there's nothing about it at all that's complaint-worthy and is demanding of any revision.

You're used to him complaining at this point and atleast he has the nerve to feel quite sorry, but it's just something that eats at his nerves when he wants to raise his grievance with you.

In fact, Jungkook thinks he should be grateful because after all, his so-called "problem" is something that some people would fight tooth and nail for to have.

His ears perk when you instruct him to move the full-length mirror to his right, cheeks puffing out mid-thought at the word that it stops him completely from adjusting the placement of the mirror to your liking.

“Don’t," he softly mumbles, brows knitting in the barrage of emotions he doesn't know how to dissect, “don’t call me that.”

He sees the confusion register in your face, staring down on him while you’re stood on your bed and he suddenly feels the need to back-track his words.

“Call you what?” your eyebrows furrow in recollection of everything you’ve ever said and called him for the past hour, seeing your boyfriend shy away from your glance with a childish look on his face that it sinks in eventually. “Baby?”

Jungkook cusses under his breath on how you managed to catch on so quick, putting his hand on his nape as if you were gonna eat him alive on what he’s gonna say next.

He sometimes hates himself for being so honest when it comes to you, and sometimes he hates how understanding you could be because he couldn’t predict what you’d react to him now.

“Yoongi teased me awhile ago.”

It’s a pathetically small mumble and Jungkook isn’t even sure if the words ever crossed past his lips, but he’s sure that they left him somehow because you’re laughing.

You’re full-on cackling either at him or with him and as much as it makes his lips curve at the sound of your laughter, it makes him defensive.

Defensive enough that he doesn’t realize he’s pouting because it’s his second nature, scrunching his face in the process.

“You’re not supposed to laugh. Even Jin elbowed me when you called me that.”

He's dancing around the term of endearment and he chalks it up to how he distinctly remembers Yoongi repeating it with his eyes squinted and his eyebrows wiggling, added with Seokjin's sharp elbows that made him consciously feel his ribs.

“Shouldn’t you be happy?” you tilt your head with genuine curiosity, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Don’t get me wrong, but didn’t you tell me that you wanted to be closer with them? That you want them to loosen up to you? They’re just teasing you, Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah, I did say that, you’re right,” he sheepishly admits, already aware that he was contradicting himself from the start. “I swear it could count as bullying though.”

Jungkook feels appalled for a split second before he realizes that the laugh he's given you is worthwhile, a tiny bit satisfied that his complaints atleast gave you sincere amusement.

It's in ridiculous moments like these that you realize your boyfriend tends to be a little more sensitive than the rest of the people you're accustomed to. A little more fragile, a little more eroded around the edges but it doesn't mean that he isn't any less compact at the core.

“Take it up to student affairs then.”

“Seokjin is student affairs. You’re not funny.”

The frown on his face gives you all the more reason to observe him this way — sensitive, warm, lovable.

Jungkook can't be Jin because your boyfriend would whimper at the slightest onset of an inconvenience but he'd whimper even more if he can't manage to resolve it. Meanwhile, your friend installs Ikea furniture without a manual and sleeps on it for weeks until he finds the resolve to continue trying.

Jungkook can't be Yoongi either because the former would bend over backwards and drink a mistaken order given to him, even if it means he paid extra for something he didn't want. On the other hand, the latter isn't afraid of coming straight to the counter holding your burger when you clearly said that you don't want pickles in it.

He can't be the other two people you treasure in your life and it's more than okay for you, the special distinction of how he stands within your heart already being enough.

“Alright, alright,” you wave him off, going straight to the mirror to adjust it because he's clearly too perplexed on how you just agreed with him. “I won’t ever call you baby again.”

Jungkook has no qualms with you but he certainly has one now, mouth parted at how that was too easy. How his request that he didn't even wholeheartedly mean became approved that quick.

A squeak leaves him before he knows it, looking between you and the reflection of himself.

“Well now you’re just guilt-tripping me.”

“I’m respecting your wishes,” you whisper playfully, making him gasp as he loops his arm around yours to effectively pull you closer out of panic.

“Don’t say ever,” he emphasizes and then could you see how his eyes widen at the particular word, cheeks puffed while he tries to get you to meet his eyes. “You’re never gonna call me baby? Ever?”

“Nope,” you breathlessly chuckle as you attempt to unloop your arm from his, earning yourself an even more eager pull to his direction. “Why would I? I’m just granting your wishes.”

Jungkook looks stupefied at your retort and you have an inkling in your mind that he looks like he'd actually plead with you, being unmistaken when you see his bottom lip actually quiver.

“Can I take it back?”

He hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder and effectively nuzzling his nose to the crook of your neck. It's a habit of his to burrow into you whenever he gets his hands on you, something you've noticed him doing to comfort himself.

You obviously don't mind it but it's something you've come to know that Jungkook doesn't even realize the effect of, not that it matters, but it's in softly domestic moments like these that it packs an extra effect.

“Call me baby again.”

He mumbles against your neck and with the way you look at his reflection, you're sure it's not out of that eager will. He's hung-up on the pet name and you're clearly hung-up on much different things.

"No."

You disagree so certainly and you're clueless that you've already uttered it out loud. It's a clear no to the things that materialized in your head out of thin air, all because of the way Jungkook nuzzles into your neck and your first thought is to give him more access.

He's oblivious to the internal conflict in your mind — oblivious to the way how there's a lump on your throat from realizing that at your point of view in front of the mirror, Jungkook engulfs you as a whole unit.

It's a weekend and the only plans you had were to buy a mirror and get takeout for lunch; simple as that. But then Yoongi caught wind of your plans, and decided that he'd come with because he reasons that he wants to see if the mirror you're buying is worthy enough because of course, it's only natural that whatever you buy is his too — or atleast because he argues that it's the law.

Then came Jin, who woke up because of Yoongi's insistent voice that if you don't let him come with you to the store, it could only mean that you don't love him anymore. Naturally, he shoots straight up from bed because he can't pass up on egging either of you. Coincidentally, it also happens that he bought a new keyring and he wants to drive to see if it would obnoxiously jangle around. Even more coincidentally, he has an extra hundred dollars in the event that the needs to add in to your budget because he wants your mirror to atleast be three feet taller than him.

You should've expected that when you replied to Jungkook's good morning message at an earlier time than you usually did, which he knows could only mean that you're running an errand, he automatically asks if he could come with and walks to your dorm even before you say yess.

It's far too hot for his usual hoodie and sweats combo that he came straight into your space without much thought of what he should wear for an errand he just only had a vague idea of — a fitted thin black shirt and black basketball shorts that cut off above his knees.

Jungkook's too oblivious with the way he has his arms around your middle, snaked snugly right below your boobs, with his face nuzzling your neck and the costly effects it has on you and your sanity.

“Why not? That’s my wish. You just told me that you’re granting mine.”

He's still fixed on gaining back his name but you're way past it, instead fixating your gaze downwards to empty your thoughts.

It's okay. It's completely and utterly okay. It's just hot, your boyfriend's wearing a different outfit, and it just happens that he's naturally clingy. He's clueless and you're not pointing it out to him that you're bothered in a way that you're certain he's not quite ready to help with.

“Pick another, Jungkook. I’ll rethink it in two business days because apparently, someone’s embarrassed of me.”

You recover fairly quickly and you don't have to shrug him off you because he detaches himself to look at you in shock, his only points of warmth on you being his hands on your shoulders while he looks at your reflection.

“W-what? I’m not! I’m just-“ he trips over his words when you look at him with a mocking raise to your brow, making him mumble in defeat. “Shy. You know I’m shy.”

“I know, bab-“ you intentionally slip up and only then could you see him scowling at your teasing, bumping your elbow to the back to lightly jab at him.

You still have your mind to purge your thoughts from and mirrors to clean, laying your point as best as you could when you suddenly push him off you with your hips, getting an offended gasp afterwards.

“I know, Jungkook. But you know that Yoongi and Jin are my friends and they’re just teasing you. You can’t whine at everything, y’know?”

“I am not whiney!”

Jungkook's eyes widen considerably, talking in a pout while he desperately defends himself from what he thinks is your most ruthless dig at him.

His eyes are still wide at you even if he waits for you to say something, anything, that would give him the peace of mind that you agree with him not being whiny at all. He's blinking every second in the fear that you'd mouth the words anytime now, but it never comes. The agreement to be in his side never comes band all he gets is your nose scrunching up at him.

“Sure you aren’t.”

You didn't know what to expect now that you've egged him further but it's definitely not him tugging your shirt towards him, making the fabric cling onto your front more than snugly as he cages you in to his chest innocently.

“Take that back."

“Jungkook,” you warn him with no real bite just yet, sending him daggers through the mirror but he doesn't relent and in fact returns your glare that's twice more stubborn.

He frowns petulantly, brows knitted together in his attempt at correction. “It’s baby.”

A breath you didn't even know you were holding leaves you in a breeze, unaware that your boyfriend's stubbornness all along is something that would knock you out of breath.

You try to ignore how Jungkook easily pulled you into him without much thought, only to possessively embrace you into his hold — all of that done out of pure innocence, just because you agreed to not call him baby.

“Do you know what you did just now?”

His wide curious eyes later turned into realization, hand scrambling to cover your mouth for what you're gonna point out next but you get it out even before he could.

“You just whined.”

Jungkook audibly groans to your ear and you have to close your eyes just to stop thinking full-time, not wanting your mind to wander to the other scenarios that would pull out such a guttural sound out of him once or rather several more.

He frowns and you're unfazed because you're used to him doing so when he doesn't get what he wants, edging you to the thought that he's really quite the stubborn one out of the two of you. The clingier, stubborn, and more eager one in the relationship.

Jungkook stands up fully and just when you think that he's letting go off you, his arms bend at the elbows and proceed to level them underneath your armpits — poised in a position as if he's holding you back and keeping you still while he looks at you in the mirror but of course; he's clueless.

You try to keep your thoughts at bay but it's beyond hard knowing that he keeps feeding into them without knowing, not being able to resist either when you break out of his hold to get out of such an enticing position you've once seen in your dreams, making him tumble back a little with a pout.

"Move away a little."

He doesn't take your dismissal to heart because he sees you pulling up a chair in front of the mirror, standing on top of it to hang the crochet heart Jin made for you.

Did you plan to put up the powder blue crochet heart on top of your mirror? Yes. Did you really need to do it now? Not at all, but you felt it was necessary to buffer your impure thoughts into focusing on a wholesome and handmade craft your friend gave you.

You think it's helping because it's immediately removing your attention on how delectable your boyfriend looks and instead refocus it onto sticking it up as even and as proportional as you could. What doesn't help, is that Jungkook's first instinct upon seeing you stand up on a chair is to put his hands on your waist tightly.

His hands are large and pretty and warm and it makes you cuss underneath your breath of how this is the second time the vision of him holding you up appears, the plan of clearing your thoughts immediately backfiring.

“I can make another wish, right?”

“If it makes you whine less, sure.”

You reply almost immediately, relieved that he's talking and deviating the conversation into somewhere else. His whines always seep into the back of your head and as much as you'd want to hear them, the timing of it all doesn't match up.

You're just about to pry his hands off from your waist but it doesn't happen because Jungkook holds you even more tightly than before, a heavy breath leaving him that it has you glancing at his reflection in the mirror.

“Take my virginity.”

Jungkook doesn't hesitate thinking twice that he's caught you off-guard because you make no move in hiding your surprise, the crochet heart you were in the verge of sticking onto the wall with mounting tape already falling unceremoniously.

His eyes widen when there's an impalpable silence that consumes the both of you but he doesn't find himself wanting to take the words back, completely confused when you step down to the ground with no hesitation.

“Give me my first time.”

He makes it clear by saying it again, strengthening what he's just said seconds ago but it feels like it's been hours since your face is indifferent, nonchalant even as you sit on the edge of your bed to open your phone.

“Don’t just say that.”

He hears you grit through your teeth and Jungkook fears that he's offended you for a second, although he doesn't find any hint of it on your face that remains the same. You look unbothered just as usual and not as if he just asked you to fuck him — he thought he'd get a bigger and perhaps more loving reaction than what you're giving him now.

“But I mean it — I do want it,” he explains sincerely, plucking your phone from your fingers and tossing it behind you, earning a squawk in return. “But not unless you don’t want to.”

Jungkook's voice becomes small and becomes regretful that he just snatched your phone away from you because initially, he just did it to get you to look at him and not avoid eye contact! But here he is, the little stunt he pulled already biting him in the ass.

You look up at him and it's unlike of him to be the one to shy away from all the gazing he does at you, already knowing that he feels touchy at the moment. He's pretty just like you've realized before; defined and soft at the same time, his faded blonde hair longer as they reach past his ears and are tucked behind them, his eyes more visible since he's taken off his glasses and perched them on your vanity just minutes ago.

“Of course I want to,” your voice is as gentle and as soothing it could be, instantly garnering the attention of your boyfriend who's standing in front of you. “It’s just that I don’t want you to feel obligated because you’re with me.”

It's true and you mean it wholeheartedly, comprising the majority of the reasons why you always try to tone down the mature thoughts you have regarding your boyfriend because it feels intrusive almost, even if he's boldly told you about the thoughts he had of you before.

It's internalized pressure you always try to contain because you can't exactly tell Jin nor Yoongi how much you want your boyfriend to fuck and do the likes with you, knowing that it would invite even more pressure into your mind.

Jungkook's heart expands twofold at the consideration you always have for him, eyes bulging as he desperately shuts down the concern you have for him.

“I’m completely sure, I promise.”

He bobs his head up and down in lightning speed and his hands automatically reach out for you to take, wanting you to pull him down on the bed, but you apparently don't do it quick enough which is why he immediately sits down beside you and places you on his lap instead. "Never been more sure ever than right now, I'm telling you."

Your laugh gets cut short because he puts his hand behind your head and pulls you close fervently, kissing you like he means it that you're pleasantly surprised when he immediately manages to take control, drawing out a moan from him when you happily cooperate.

You've always known that Jungkook's an attentive lover; always keen and eager and trying to please. He's giddy and vocal and it crosses your mind that you're all he's ever known when it comes to this, the realization of the fact giving more warmth to you than you initially thought it would.

Jungkook makes you tilt your head so he could kiss you deeper and it doesn't make him glaze over the fact that he doesn't want you to strain your neck, his hand affectionately cupping your nape while your hands get busy trying to get his shirt over and off him, feeling the warmth of his hand on your exposed skin.

"How do I-" he whispers, grunting particularly when you grind on his clothed cock that's straining through his basketball shorts, "how do we do this?"

He feels an unmeasurable heat within and he knows he can't chalk it up to the weather this time, but rather, he'd point it out to you who's grinding on him as your hips rut forward, the warmth of your center slowly bleeding into his own because your shorts are thin and he could make himself silly just trying to imagine you bare.

“It’s your first time, Koo,” you scratch lightly in circles on his back, turning him over the edge more than it does to soothe him. “I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook's eyes prick at your promise and he finds his mouth falling open because not soon after your assurance, you undress right in front of him without hesitation, instantly finding religion in the silent worship he gives you with his eyes.

“I think I’m gonna cum already.”

The words tumble out of him without filter and it makes you snort mid-way in making him shimmy out of his shorts, cock springing up to his tummy that he feels almost embarrassed under your watchful gaze.

“Save it,” you stifle giggles at his candidness but it became his turn to stop breathing when you sit on his thighs, eyes wide in realization that the two of you are so close and the fact alone makes him want to explode.

Jungkook's vow of speechlessness becomes void the moment your hand pumps his desperately pink and throbbing member, mewling into your kiss that makes his eyes squint in pleasure.

His hands dig into your hips and you relish with the way he kneads it like he's learned how to when he massages your neck when you're buried in schoolwork and it's the only thing he could do to help you out because you're in your senior year and he has no clue when he squints at your textbooks. There's eager intention with how he kneads the flesh, his neatly-trimmed nails leaving marks when you squeeze his cock a little too tight.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, am I? I read somewhere that it can hurt sometimes.”

Jungkook speaks the moment he feels you slowing down with your ministrations, figuring out that this is the part when it actually happens and it makes you smile unexpectedly.

He's humble and there's no cockiness behind it (even if next time you want him to own up just rightfully), just full of worry in theory and soon in practice because after all, you are his first.

“You’re big, Jungkook,” you mumble to his lips and he doesn't know how to take what you've just said, the worry leaving his face when you press your lips to him to calm his worries. “But it’s okay. It’s just gonna be a bit of a stretch for me, while it’s gonna be tight for you.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna hurt you,” he's looking up at you with innocent eyes and the intimacy in it almost knocks you out of breath, a chuckle leaving your lips.

“You’re not,” you assure him sincerely, the thought of having it otherwise next time making your tongue poke your cheek in thought, shaking the thought away in the meantime as you runs your hands down his arms. “If it makes you feel better, you can stretch me out first.”

“Yes please.”

Jungkook nods and eagerly heeds your suggestion to satisfy his qualms, licking his lips when he looks down at you because you're practically dripping and he could feel the wetness sticking into his inner thighs.

He feels your lips on his neck as you let him get lost looking at your pussy, his breathing evidently getting heavy until you let him fuck you with his eyes enough, disrupting the static in his head.

“There. Put a finger in me.”

Jungkook's eyes widen at the bluntness of your words, his hand brushing accidentally to your inner thigh that it makes you exhale loudly. “I just put it in?”

The comical gaze he's fixed on you makes you snicker, humming a tune while he barely blinks.

“Well you fuck with me it for awhile, but yes, Koo. You put it in me as the first step.”

Jungkook blushes and he avoids mulling over the stupid question he's just asked that should've been rhetoric by now because for fuck's sake, the last time the two of you were in bed, he did eat the cum out of you while you were still in your shorts.

He wastes no time and inserts his finger into your dripping hole, seeing his finger disappear seamlessly, engulfed in your tight warm walls that the sight makes the lump in his throat hard to swallow.

The intrusion of his middle finger as he plunges the entirety of it makes you throw your head back at the sensation you haven't quite achieved in the past few months by yourself, clenching around the digit in bliss.

“B-but you’re so tight."

He stutters when you clench around his finger once more, experimenting in pulling it out until only the tip of his digit is in you and plunges it back again, a heedy moan escaping you with no remorse. “Fuck.”

You lift your hips to sink down on his finger and it makes him realize that he's sat frozen at the thought of how your pussy is so tight and he finds it overwhelmingly pleasurable even if it's just his finger in you, finding it within him to come to his senses and thrust it upwards when you didn’t expect it.

“Imagine it’s your cock in me,” you mutter in between moans when he experiments with ramming his digit into you faster, withdrawing a fucked-out whine when he unintentionally hooks it upward. “Feels like this but it’s much much better.”

Jungkook whines from your words alone because the thought itself makes him salivate, adding another digit into your pussy as he looks down to how it stretches and accommodates them snuggle, pointing them curved inwards that you instantly rub yourself around his fingers in small circles.

He keeps focused as he tries to draw more of the sounds you give him, egging him on to fuck you harder with his fingers because the way you moan his name is a reward within itself.

“You ready?”

In his selfless attempt at pleasuring you, Jungkook didn't realize that your hand's holding his wrist in place to keep it still, not even sure at all if he's made you cum already because his head's clouded with pleasure from giving you your own.

His eyes are dilated and focused entirely on you, watching your every move as you ease off from his fingers, holding his digits like he's never seen them before and sees them glistening with your essence — and Jungkook finds himself popping them into his mouth, moaning in ecstasy at a full taste of you.

The sight's enough to make your eyes widen, clenching around nothing when you see your boyfriend lapping up at his fingers to taste every last bit of you as if you aren't in front of him.

“You’re too precious,” you kiss the corner of his mouth that’s glossy with the taste of you and he hums in contentment with it, eyes shifting open when you pull away and you stand up from your seat on his thighs.

“Where are you going?”

He doesn't hide the panic in his voice at all and you want him to get rid of it entirely because you're not going anywhere, looking back at him as he gets back to his sense on how you're literally just five feet away from him.

“This is the part where you come with me,” you nudge him with a tilt of your head, a blush dusting his cheeks because he panicked for no reason. He stands up attentively, walking to where you stand right beside the chair you've just stood up on minutes ago. “Sit.”

Jungkook doesn't complain but he finds himself confused while he complies either way, looking back to the bed that he thought would be in use just like all the prior knowledge he's seen in the media he's consumed.

“I’ll ride you first,” you say and he effectively catches his attention, head whipping up to you. “Told you I was gonna take care of you, right?”

It's only then that it clicks in Jungkook's mind that he's sitting on a chair in front of the mirror because you're gonna ride him, the dots connecting as he's never realized that his impromptu request of you taking his virginity would end up in front of the very thing that got him coming over to your dorm today in the first place.

He's excited and he can't understand why you can't just ride him right now, your eyes flickering as if you're looking for something that he just now realizes.

“Are you looking for a condom?”

“Yeah,” you nod with amused eyes, pleasantly surprised that Jungkook noticed your silent search and even more surprised when he pipes up right after.

“I have one.”

“Since when did you carry around condoms?”

The giggle leaves you before you even realize it and Jungkook doesn't even flinch, the words leaving him determinedly and seriously that it makes him smile at the end of it.

“Since you gave me a blowjob.”

He watches your face register confusion until it turns into genuine laughter, making his mouth drop open in faux offense because you seem to not believe him. “I’m not kidding! I thought I should be ready at any moment after that.”

"You're insufferable. Where is it?"

His own chest rises in laughter when you speak in between peals of giggles, pointing to the pocket of his shorts as you walk to retrieve them.

“I went home hard that night because I literally couldn’t stop thinking. A-and I made Jimin drive me to the grocery as soon as I got home,” he winces in recollection and it makes you throw your head back when you come back to standing beside him, holding a silver packet between your fingers that his eyes glint at.

“No you did not,” you gasp in shock for what he probably made Jimin go through, although not entirely surprised because he's told you countless times that his roommate acts as a brazen older brother for him.

“I made him buy me my condoms because I was too shy to do it myself.”

“What a friend Jimin is.”

You chuckle as you put your leg over Jungkook's, getting acquainted his thighs and dangerously near his cock that it makes his reply weaken in anticipation while you're still dazed in laughter.

“You should hear when he asked me my size and I didn’t know how to determine it.”

“Oh my god,” you remark once you visualize the scene of Jimin asking your boyfriend his size in condoms, the laughter dying down as Jungkook's chest is frozen still. “I’ll kiss him on the cheek next time that I see him because he’s a saint.”

“Now don’t do that.”

He scoffs at the tiny reminder you set for yourself, rolling his eyes that later narrow when he sees a long line of your spit droop down to his member that already so wet, already slick and leaking even if you've barely done anything.

He watches you tear the packaging with nimble fingers and it reminds him how he's just practically seconds away of feeling and filling you, watching you pinch the tip of the condom before snugly fitting it on his cock.

“You take care of me so good.”

Jungkook mumbles and he says it not because you've just put on a condom for him, but because he feels the thought flash in neon lights on his head and he feels compelled to say nothing but the truth.

You kiss him on the lips for it, his eyes shutting close in sweetness when you press one more peck before pulling away.

“Tell me when it gets too much for you.”

Jungkook could never anticipate the sheer euphoria he feels at the back of his spine when you sink yourself on him achingly slow, head thrown back at the gush of newfound tightness.

His tip prods in you and once he looks down to see where your pussy stretches around him, it makes his eyes roll back sinfully, mouth parted open.

“So fucking tight.”

You sink down completely on him and that's when you feel the fullness of him that you've been craving for, stretching you into a pleasurable ache that could only be fixed as you have more of him into your pussy.

“You fill me up so good.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he feels you on the hilt of his cock, unconsciously bucking up as he maxes out his length into your pussy that makes you shudder.

“That’s the spot, baby,” you whine at his pulsating length and he mewls attentively at the return of your endearment for him, wanting to milk out your sounds as much as he could at the moment.

He's stuck on how to do because he's sure he could just sit here and cum from your warmth alone, his thoughts being interrupted when you whisper to his ears in a definite tone.

“Sit pretty while I fuck myself on you.”

You suddenly bounce on his cock and Jungkook’s tummy clenches at the feeling of you and it shows with how he moans pornographically, your warm walls clenching around him for an even tighter fit that it suffocates him in the best way possible.

His balls feel full and Jungkook has his arms around your naked waist tightly and possessively, almost as if you’d slip away when you’re holding onto his shoulders just as tight.

“You love that? Love it when I bounce up and down your cock?”

Your voice is desperately on-edge and has the slightest hint of a mock, making your boyfriend's stomach tighten as he hits an intimately soft part inside you that makes you moan just as instantly, his closer position of him leaning against his chair making his cock graze your g-spot.

“I love it so much please.”

Jungkook's overwhelmed with pleasure but it's just not enough because he wants all of it, adjusting his grip on you in a way that he can easily lift you from underneath your thighs, bouncing you down even harder as he watches your pussy embrace him completely.

His neediness rubs a part of your ego you didn't even know you possessed, sucking a hickey on his neck and he obediently gives your more access, his eyes shut close in ecstasy.

Jungkook looks beautiful underneath you as you fuck yourself onto him but it's just not enough for you, wanting to see him in entirety.

“Open your eyes, baby,” you graze your nails on the length of his spine that makes him whine in sensitivity, eyes bursting open. You briefly stop riding him that it makes him whine at the loss of contact, bending backwards to grab his glasses that's perched on your vanity. “Wear your glasses for me.”

He blinks at your through thick lashes when you put them on him, holding by the chin to kiss his jaw as you make him look at the mirror behind you, the reflection of you turned against it while he's facing the glass, legs open and cock inside you as he realizes that he gets to see the entirety of you in this way.

“Look at how pretty you are while you’re fucking me.”

It's the last thing he hears before you bounce on his cock harder than you ever did, throwing your hips circling around him into the mix that it pushes him closer to his impending climax.

“Moaning for me prettily too. Aren’t you a treat, hm?”

Jungkook's vocal and it's never been lost on you that he tells you exactly how he feels, no shame in being loud because it's exactly what you make him feel.

His eyes are open and his eyebrows are raised in bliss, mouth parting open as you leave open-mouthed kisses on his neck that makes him whine even harder.

His eyeglasses were barely at the brim of fogging but now they're slightly frosted, making you wipe at them in hurry to see how your boyfriend's eyes are fixed on nothing but you at the moment but that's when you see — the whole reason why they were starting to fog up anyways.

“Are you crying?” you wipe on his tears from underneath his glasses and you slow down your pace, whining in place when he pinches your ass before ramming into you from his position below because you stopped moving.

“I’m crying because you make me feel so good.”

Jungkook admits immediately and he only became conscious of the tears on his cheeks when you pointed it out, unaware of them altogether because he's so stuck in his cloud of pleasure that nothing else mattered besides you and the high you give him.

You grind on him as soon as he bottoms out, keeping yourself pressed to him that drawls a needy stutter of your name in an instant.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-“ he rams extra harder into you and grinds his hips in in small circles, “-cum! I’m gonna fucking-“

Jungkook moans the loudest you've ever heard from him as he shoots his release into the condom, feeling you riding out his high that makes him sound even more guttural.

He cums loads, knowing that he has it in him that his own high gives you your own not shortly after, the extra warmth enveloping his member that makes him whine in overstimulation.

He's sweaty with his head tilted back in the chair, his hair damp and his neck wet as he hears you chuckle, snapping him back to reality as he pulls you to his sweaty chest while he’s still inside of you.

“Hmm, are you okay? Do you want some water?” you check up on him amidst being in quite of a pant yourself. “I have some Gatorade in the fridge, I think. It’s for my next game but you can have it.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, pinching your side at the sound of you teasing him as you've literally just finished giving him his first and most mind-blowing orgasm he's ever had.

“Again?”

He toothily grins as he exhales, making you roll your eyes while he waits in patience.

“Catch your breath first, Jungkook.”

“I am, I am! Give me like two minutes and after that, we can fuck again, right?”

The transparent anticipation on his tone makes you coo at him, scratching his hair that makes him hum in contentment.

“Do you have any more condoms?”

What was supposed to be an innocent and genuine question makes Jungkook suddenly straighten up on his seat, almost making you fall backwards if he hadn't secured a hand on the small of your back.

His eyes widen comically, his cheeks reddening in recollection.

“When Jimin drove me to the grocery that night I uh, I used my debit card because all the bills I had were too big for the regular packs.”

“Jungkook...” you mumble his name and then could he hear the tone that basically inquired him on what the hell did he do, making him sheepishly look at the ceiling to avoid your gaze.

“A-and I didn’t want the cashier to hate me, nor Jimin because I made him buy them, because it was night and the cash registers were already probably collected and they didn’t have change.”

“Jungkook, oh my god...”

You should’ve noticed the way Jungkook’s backpack crinkles, or why the front pocket must be bulging even if he explains that he barely puts stuff in it because it's easily the most stealable portion of anyone's bag.

It explains why Jin once thought that he was hiding a tinfoil lunch in there one time when he walked into your dorm, not finding any reason for him to pack a lunch when you automatically make an extra portion for him when he comes over.

You make Jungkook look at you and his cheeks are bulging as he tries to hide the laughter from seeing you look beyond shocked at him, knowing that your boyfriend's considerate but not to this level.

“I bought a whole tray.”

.

.

.

and at last here it is!! stem koo's first time :D we've finally come to this peak besties omg if you've been here sometime when the chronological series was on-going, you'd know how this moment is ultimately monumental <3

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[semperama]

neighbor daniel!! 🏡

Yay, I'm glad someone asked for this! Slight warning for mentions of J*s being J*s.

Daniel gives him a wide berth, sitting on the opposite end of the bench near the house where he can lean up against it. He criss-crosses his legs in front of him and leans forward, his head cocked to the side like he’s studying Max. “So, fight with your dad?” he asks.

Heat prickles the back of Max’s neck, but this time it’s the heat of anger. All he wants to do is forget about it, but his father’s words stick in his head. Do you want to flip burgers for the rest of your life? Because that’s where you’re headed. It was only a C, his first ever. But how is knowing about the symbolism in Frankenstein going to help him in life anyway? Why should he even fucking care?

“None of your business,” he says, resting his chin on his knee and looking away. He doesn’t need some stranger finding reasons to pity him.

“Hey, we’ve all been there, mate,” Daniel says. His voice is surprisingly gentle, and Max feels his throat start to close with an embarrassing lump. “I swear my parents almost kicked me out so many times.”

Max doesn’t believe him. Every teenager fights with their parents, but he knows most parents aren’t like his dad. He learned a while back not to tell Alex or Lando the things his dad says to him when they fight.

[trashytummiez]

I hope this is cool with you, can i request kinda a pov thing of rubbing killer croc's tummy after stuffing him to the gills with good food.

Discovery Channel had nothing on Killer Croc.

Watching him eat was a sight you couldn't look away from. When the reptile was gone you had gotten him every assortment of his favorite fast and heavy foods as thanks for him letting you stay in his lair. Burgers steaks and entire racks of ribs were all laid out on Killer crocs mattress with a tarp beneath it all for him to stuff himself. He was a messy eater the way he chomped down on everything he grabbed a hold of and shoved into those jaws of his. They'd tasted human flesh and swallowed men whole multiple times so even the thickest beef couldn't stand a chance against the apex predators jaws.

Killer Croc would take these massive bites that only took seconds to pulverize anything in his mouth. Then he'd swallow heartily which made grapefruit sized lumps wetly sink down Croc's thick throat with a visual ripple. It wasn't long before all that food began to flood his scaly belly. Crocs hard as steel abs stretched out along with his scaly tummy the more he filled himself up.

You watched him pig out and listened to all the greedy slurps and gulps he made in between his incredibly piggish open mouthed chomping of all that food. But his lack of table manners and the way he rapidly ate didn't gross you out like it would anyone else. It legitimately got you hot under the collar and fanning yourself. Especially watching that thick and muscular stomach extend into a glutted scaly beachball that weighed Killer Croc's already tight jeans down under its weight. He ate so much so fast that his pants button eventually snapped clean off giving his big scaly tummy extra room to push out the more he devoured.

Killer croc greedily scarfed down everything in just a few minutes. All that food was packed into his belly and gurgling heavily from his digestive tract making steady work of all that food.

"Unnnnngh man I'm stuffed..." Killer croc moaned then slumped back while his enormous belly sloshed like it was full of a really rich stew muffled behind his scales. Croc gave his swollen belly a heavy pat then he burped so loudly that the whole lair shook.

"...Excuse you," you said with a blush so intense that you looked as though you ate a red hot pepper.

Killer croc simply smacked his lips contently and leaned on an elbow while rubbing the side of his immensely bloated belly with one hand. "Mmmm what I'd give t'be able t'eat like that every day..." Croc mused. He smirked cheekily back at you and licked his scaly chops. "Bet ya'd wish fer the same thing huh."

"You'd go broke in a week if I fed you this much all the time," you said.

Neither one of you would've minded one bit.

Croc's teasing worked though. You eventually placed your hands on his bulging belly. The scales on his tummy felt softer and more stretched out than the rest of his coarse body. The way it churned felt and sounded like a washing machine with too big a load circulating inside.

The feeling and sight of it mixed with how noisy Croc's belly was made your knees weak.

Then you began to rub it.

Your hands smoothed over the vast scaly tummy riding up to the highest roundest crest of Killer Croc's stomach then slid down under the curve of his underbelly. His belly was so big that you needed to actually lean up against it so you could stretch your arms out wide enough to rub over all of it. Your hands roamed under Croc's ribs and over the thickest area dead center of his stomach. Those fingers of yours kneaded into that scaly churning tummy digging into them to ease whatever cramps you felt in his stomach muscles.

Killer Croc himself was enjoying every second of this. He groaned pleasantly and stretched his claws out with how relaxed your ministrations were making him. Then you stuck your finger inside of his belly button. It was thinned out and made a little more shallow from how stuffed to the brim Croc's stomach was but it was still deep enough that your finger went a ways in. Your finger fondled his navel firmly and sensually digging it around inside.

Even for a creature his size and appearance Killer Croc had a very sensitive belly button. And the treatment you provided it made hiis eyes roll to the back of his head as he moaned heavily at the sensational treatment you gave his tummy. He sighed heavily letting his warm dank breath waft over you as his clawed toes curled with euphoria.

"...God damn yer somethin' else..." he groaned pleasurably.

So was he the way he could eat just so much in one go and leave you with so much belly to love.

Your finger traced out of his navel while you leaned in closer and kissed it. Then you continued lovingly and idly stroked his prominent girth in an intimate sort of way. Your hands cupped the sheer heft of his weighty underbelly and pushed. Croc's tummy folded into itself slightly as you jiggled his engorged belly up and down.

You shuddered at the feeling and sound of Croc's belly sloshing so thickly as you jiggled it around. All that jiggling was also circulating a lot of gas in Killer croc's tummy as well. Croc winced when he felt a great deal of pressure brewing in his chest. Then he smacked his chest with a meaty fist and expelled a booming burp that echoed throughout the whole sewer system surrounding Croc's lair.

BBRRRUUUURRRRAAAAAUUURHP!!!!!

You shuddered as you felt that burp reverberate throughout your whole body from how powerful it was.

"Unf...oh man," Killer Croc huffed while his tummy gurgled thickly. He managed a grin back at you. "Heheh. Lots more where that came from, ya know..."

Like you needed any more incentive.

Still cupping his underbelly you gripped into its softest portions and shook his big scaly stomach around some more. Killer Croc savored the feeling of his tummy getting shaken around until more gas bubbled its way up. He threw his head back and gave a huge burp that roared out of him like a shotgun blast. The another rumbling burp rolled out of his mouth a second later followed by a choppier weaker one after that.

BAAAAAAUUUUUUURRRRROOOOOOOORRRAAAAAHP!!!!!!!

BBBRRREEEEEEEEUUUUUUUURRRRRRHP!!!!!

HOOOOOOUUUuuuurrrr-UUUUUuuuuuuurrrrrhp!!!

You bit your lip and suppressed a moan of your own. It drove you wild how unbelievably gassy this reptile could get when he was so full.

But nothing made you weaker than Killer Croc grunting and slapping his hefty belly as hard as he could to work up this massive rumbling burp that caused every bone in your body to vibrate with its sheer power.

BBBWWWUUUUUUUUUUUURRROOOOOOOOORRRAAAAAAAAAHPPP!!!!!!!!!!!

Croc groaned breathlessly. He was so relieved to get that one out that he flopped lazily onto his back and let his massive tummy sway above him.

"Gruuuoooooaaahhh mmmmaaaaaan that was a good one..." Killer Croc mused breathily.

"...You're telling me," you replied in a tone that made it impossible to hide how unbelievably aroused you were.

You crawled over Killer Croc sitting on his lap and leaning against his giant pillowy tummy while rubbing into it. Croc hummed contently to himself while you tended to his tummy. Occasionally you pressed down on his belly making Croc burp a few more times.

"Thanks for this Waylon," you finally said.

"Uh? Thanks fer what? Yer the one who's rubbin' my belly after fillin' it with a meal fit fer a king," Croc replied.

"You know...for giving me a home," you said then more intimately you traced your finger across his belly button again making Croc moan some more. "And for...indulging me a little with all this." You gave Croc's tummy a few pats for emphasis.

Killer croc hiccuped at the pats then smirked at you. "What makes ya think yer the only one into this?"

He folded his muscular arms behind his head and arched his back with a big beastly yawn that made his belly stick out more in your face.

That was as subtle a way of telling you to "keep rubbin'" as you were gonna get. So you continued rubbing the stuffed noisy belly of Killer Croc well into the night and beyond.

[mayans-sauce]

Golden Girl (1/2)

Found on Google

Pairing: Angel Reyes x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: cursing, mention of death(?), mention of smut (barely), alcohol use, angsty, sad and insecure lil boy, kind of cheesy in the end but oh well it’s cute I think.

Request from anon I have a request for Angel! The reader is very successful in her personal life, and could be considered a "golden girl". She and Angel start dating, but when she asks to meet his family and friends, Angel pushes it off because he doesn't want to introduce her to EZ. He's afraid they'll have so much in common that she'll realize she picked the wrong Reyes brother. One day the reader takes matters into her own hands and goes to the scrap yard to meet them, and Angel comes back to find them all talking to her, and EZ is sitting next to her. The reader sees Angel and smiles at him, but he walks back out feeling insecure and over thinking. She goes after him, asks him what's wrong and he confesses his insecurities, she comforts and reassures him, and they live happily ever after! THE END!

A/N: I’m so sorry this request comes so late! I recently got inspired to write this. I was supposed to keep this short but I just kept on writing and adding on and it turned into a longer thing. It’s weird idk but I hope you enjoy<3

Part. 2

GROUP CHAT for updates!

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“Angel! Come on, we’ll be late, let's go,” you walked into your shared bedroom to go and get him. You were supposed to be at your father’s party 10 minutes ago. This was the first time you would bring Angel along, and he was nervous as fuck. This wasn’t some regular party like the ones he was used to; it was a business party. A lot of your dad’s investors would be present, discussing business and looking at the new invention his company, Techno Trends, had developed, a green source of energy that was powerful enough to light up a whole city for a year. It was a big deal, and Angel had doubts that he would fit in with all the big shot guys.

He was smoothing over his black suit, his hands trembling as he tried to adjust every piece to look presentable. “Babe,” you wrapped your arms around his torso, giving him some comfort, “please don’t be nervous. It is going to be fine. My dad loves you, and he’s so excited for you to come to one of the parties finally.” He wrapped his hands around yours, his shoulders relaxing at your comforting words and touch, “It’s not your dad I’m worried about.”

He had repeatedly declined your offer to go with you when you asked him. The fear of feeling small and stupid amongst these guys turned him off on the idea of going, but he had agreed in the end. Sooner or later, he would have to go. You turned him around, so he was looking at you.

“I will be with you the entire time. I promise I won’t leave your side. You know I’m not the biggest fan of these parties myself.” Your dad was a very important man, and it was vital for him to have you by his side. You were, in a way, the senior CEO, and your input and decisions were important to him. As much as you were considered the “Golden Girl,” you were still mischievous and full of life, and outside of business, you didn’t bother to mingle with the rich and powerful. You had your own life that you lived, but for business sake, you needed to be presentable and put on your pretty smile.

He let out a deep breath and nodded his head, giving you his smile that made you smile even more prominent. “Let’s go, Reyes.”

You held his hand the entire time as you walked up the steps to the company building. After going through the security check, you searched the crowd for your dad but didn’t find him anywhere. He was the highlight of the party; how could he not be anywhere. That’s when you felt a tap on your shoulder; as you turned around, you were met with him. “Dad,” you hugged him. “Hi, sweetheart.” Angel reached out his hand for him to shake, “Sir.” “Angel, please, I’ve told you before, call me Y/F/N, now bring it in.” Angel smiled, feeling as accepted as the first time he met your father. They hugged each other, and Angel felt more relaxed. Angel felt even more comfortable with your dad around; they did kind of have the same life.

Your dad wasn’t always the CEO of one of the biggest tech companies in the world. He was more like Angel in his younger years, an outlaw, someone who did whatever they wanted and didn’t care about the consequences. He was part of a club, doing the same illegal things Angel and his crew were doing. But after the death of your mother when you were a baby, which was caused by his involvement in the club, he knew he needed to leave. He didn’t want his only daughter to grow up without a father, so he left. Leaving his old life behind and starting a new one. It wasn’t easy, being an ex-outlaw, but your dad was smart, brilliant, and his mind was the one of a genius. So after years of struggle and sacrifice, he had finally found success in the company he founded from the ground up.

Your dad loved Angel, and he never judged him. He knew the life and how much of a struggle it could be. But he thought he was a good man and he was happy you had found him.

The night had gone as expected. You had to have boring conversations with the investors, putting on your enhanced smile and charm to get them to give you their money. Angel tried his best to keep up, smiling and nodding in agreement at all the boring things these rich men said, with their expensive suits and snobby smiles.

He and you were relieved when the food and alcohol came, digging in the small dishes that were served. “This tastes like shit,” he whispered in your ear, carefully chewing the food not to be impolite, but all he wanted was to spit it out. “I know, it always does. Let go grab burgers when the party’s over, deal?” “Deal.”

Toward the end of the night, as people were mingling with everyone, you and Angel found yourself a seat in the corner, away from the big talks, and just relieved in a moment with only the two of you. His arms were around your shoulder as you people watched. “Angel, I’ve wanted to ask you something.” “Hmm?” was all he uttered, not averting his eyes from the crowd. “So now that you’ve seen all of this, more of my personal life, when can I properly meet EZ and the rest of the gang? I feel like you don’t want me to meet them. Is something going on?”

He felt a lump forming in his throat. For a long time, he’s been afraid that you would find out that he didn’t want you to meet EZ. Afraid that EZ fit more for this lifestyle of yours and that you would realize that you picked the wrong brother to be with. This environment was more for EZ. He was smart and could contribute heavily to the company. “I-I,” he cleared his throat, “EZ has just been busy lately, you know, prospecting and shit.”

You just left the topic at that, knowing that he wouldn’t budge. Something was going on. There was a reason that he didn’t want you to meet EZ, and he was insecure to tell you why. So you would take matters into your own hands and go over to the clubhouse to properly introduce yourself tomorrow.

------------

Since Angel didn’t want to introduce you to his family, you would do so yourself. When Angel was out and about doing some stuff on his own, you took the liberty to go over to the scrapyard to meet everyone.

Once you arrived, you felt a little nervous. Yes, all the guys knew who you were, but they had never really met you properly; you’ve only just seen them in passing and such, exchanging a few words here and there.

You pulled yourself together and opened the door to the clubhouse. Everyone turned to look who it was. They were expecting Angel to walk in, but instead, they found his girlfriend standing there, not sure what to do. “Y/N!” They all said in unison. That made you let out a deep breath. Good, they were excited that you were here.

They walked over to you, and each of them hugged you, expressing how happy they were that they could finally meet you. They offered you a beer and a seat at one of the tables. The talking didn’t stop from the minute you arrived. They asked you questions about yourself, your job, your family, and some gossip about Angel that they may not know.

As time went on, people started to arrive at the clubhouse for a party they were holding. As most of the guys scattered around the room, some in search of alcohol, girls, or just a game of pool, you found yourself having a conversation with EZ about the upcoming tech from Techno Trends.

The guy was smart and knew what he was talking about. It kind of made you mad at Angel for not introducing you sooner to his brother. EZ had some pretty good ideas that would be of big help to the company.

EZ had just told you a funny joke as Angel entered the room. His eyes locked on you and him having a good time. At first, he was confused; how in the hell did you get here? Was that really you, or did he see things? No, it was you. He couldn’t mistake you for anyone else.

You were laughing hard, placing your hand on EZ’s shoulder for support since the alcohol had made you a little wobbly. Angel could feel himself building up with rage. This was precisely what he didn’t want to happen, and it was now unfolding in front of his eyes. As you had calmed down from the laughing fit, you found his gaze, and you smiled big, waving at him to come over, but your face turned sad when you saw him, anger on his face but still a little trace of wetness in his eyes. He stormed out of the doors, and you were fast on your heels to catch up to him.

“Angel!” He sat down on one of the picnic tables a little further away from the building. “Angel,” you walked over, standing in front of him. He didn’t meet your gaze; his eyes focused on a bottle cap on the ground.

“What is going on, Angel? What was that inside?” You crossed your arms, waiting for an answer. “The shit I didn’t want to happen!” His voice was poisonous as he spoke. “You and EZ. The perfect match, the perfect couple. The golden girl and golden boy together as they were meant to fucking be! King and Queen of the fucking company.” “What the fuck are you talking about?” “You will leave me. You will realize that EZ is better for you and your life instead of the fuck up and worthless piece of shit that is me, and… fuck, you will leave because why would you be with someone like me…”

You let him have his little rant; he needed to let it out one way or another, and taking this to the ring wasn’t an option. As much as it hurts you to hear all these things, you let him vent, and after this, you would love, comfort, and cherish him for the rest of your life together, as he deserves.

“... I’m dumb, worthless..” he continued to say untrue things about himself, and you knew you needed to stop him. You felt tears in your eyes the more he went on saying hurtful things about him. “Angel… ANGEL!” You grabbed his face with both of your hands to get him to look at you and shut him up in the process.

“Stop.. just stop... I love you, only you! How can you not see that?” “I-I just..” “No, Angel! Nothing just.” “Please listen to me when I say these things and know they are coming straight from my heart, baby.”

“I love that when I wake up in the morning, and your beautiful and breathtaking face is the first thing I see in the morning. It starts my day with a kick, and I know that the rest of the day will be good.”

“I love when I come home from work, and I walk into the kitchen, and there you are, almost burning the house down trying to be a gentleman and cook me dinner,” that made you both chuckle, and that alone made your heart jump a thousand times, “and we just end up ordering takeout but I still appreciate you for trying.”

“I love when I’m having a bad day, and you are there to cheer me up. Telling me jokes, being your goofy self, or buying me chocolate that we eat way too much of an almost vomit.”

“The sex. God the sex. Best I’ve ever had, I love it. You really know how to work those hips, babe, and make me weak in my core.” He had his grin on his face, and you knew that he would bring this up multiple times and give it to you good and hard just how you liked it.

“I love when we go to sleep, and you keep me safe and warm from the scary outside world, telling me weird and questionable stories about you and Coco. Just you and me in our own little comfort and safety bubble.”

“EZ means nothing to me besides being a friend and a brother I never had. Yes, he’s bright and smart and could elevate the game at the company if he wanted to, but Angel, I love you, just you.”

“If I were to tell you all that I love about you, we would spend a year on this bench. I love you, Angel Ignacio Reyes, only you, until the day I fucking die.”

At this point, you were both crying happy tears. You had told Angel everything, the truth, and nothing but the truth, and you could feel it in his aura that he understood this.

“Querida I,” you spoke before he had the chance to go further, “Angel, we have all the time in the world to express each other’s feelings more, but for now, please just hug me, you big idiot.”

He stood up and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you up to wrap your legs around him. You held each other for a good while, unspoken words expressed between you both as you cling to one another. He was grateful, you could feel it, and he loved you more than anything in the universe.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Angel.”

[lillianawayne99]

17: Last Supper

Suptober21 | Masterlist

Pairing: Dean X OC

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: NSFW Angst

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, oral (f receiving), smut

The chill from the open refrigerator door sent cascades of ignored goosebumps across my exposed skin. Dean’s fingers intertwined with mine as I placed a box in the basket. Letting the door fall shut on its own, I turned my back on the stacks of processed sugar and leaned into my fiancé's shoulder.

His calloused fingers squeezed mine three times as we wandered through the store. One more item on the list. The air warmed as we circled a table of pastries. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I picked up the closest one. Store bought wasn’t the best, but it would do.

For the first time in hours, I looked up at Dean’s face. What I saw cast my gaze back to the ground. His brows were pulled down, the sides of his nose crinkled, and his lips taut. My expression wasn’t any better. I was clinging to him like a lifeline, both arms wound around one of his. Cheek pressed into his jacket while white knuckled fingers wrapped around his.

Heavy, shuffling footsteps led me to the self checkout. Dean paid for the food and beer with a new card as the crack of thunder echoed through the building. Glancing up from behind Dean’s back, I saw dark clouds blocking the stars from view.

“Come on, sweetheart.” The baritone of his voice sent shivers down my spine despite the years we’d spent together.

The fluorescent lights dimmed for a moment as we crossed to the exit. Dean glanced down at me, picking up the pace and ducking his head as we stepped out into the rain. He opened the back door of the Impala and ushered me in, sliding into the seat beside me. The moment the groceries hit the floor, I wrapped myself around him and pulled my legs up onto the seat.

Sam flashed us a grim half smile through the rearview mirror as the engine purred. The lull of the road passing beneath us and feel of Dean’s arm around my waist settled me into a false sense of security. At ease for the first time in months, I focused on the chest rising and falling under my head. What wouldn’t happen in the morning was forgotten.

The faint hum of the radio played in the background. Fingertips tapped my ribs to the beat of the song. Behind closed eyes, the soft glow of streetlights crossed my vision. The bottles between Dean’s boots clinked with the reverberations of the engine.

The car let out a soft whine as the wheels came to a stop. Dean’s hold on my waist tightened and he pressed his lips to the top of my head. My feet felt several times their weight as I swung them onto the floor and sat up. Calloused fingers caressed my side, trailing across my back then down my arm to wrap around my hand.

Dean grabbed the bag and twelve pack then clambered out of the car, gingerly pulling me with him. As the car door slammed shut, cold air enveloped my hand where fingers were moments ago. A heavy arm wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me into a muscled chest. My hands slipped beneath Dean’s jacket as I wound my arms around him.

Despite Sam sitting across the table, I didn’t complain when Dean pulled me onto his lap and refused to let go. The only sound in the room was the crinkle of wrappers and occasional thud of a bottle being set down. When I looked up from the wooden table, Sam’s face contorted into a pained grimace.

I dropped my gaze back down to the flannel-covered arms around my waist and finished my burger. Picking at my fries, I finished my first beer and waited for the guys to finish. A large hand grasped my waist and pulled me back. Dean rested his chin on my shoulder, his chest pressed to my back.

“Are you sure this is all you want?” He pulled the first box of five towards us.

“I’m sure.” I pushed my hips further into him and took the pie from him.

“Hey, we’ll figure something out.” Dean kissed the top of my head. His fingers involuntarily tightened around my shirt.

“We’ve already tried everything.” Sam and I glanced up at each other, our words overlapping. “It’s too late.”

Dean’s jaw tensed and his knuckles turned white around the bottle in his hand. The dark glass hit the table with a soft thump. He placed his hands over my wrists, gently setting them down and taking the knife from my fingers. With a soft kiss on my shoulder, he divvied up five pieces of pie to each of us.

I was nauseous by the end of the fourth, but I had to eat the last one. Pecan. It wasn’t my mama’s, but it would do for tonight. The fork shook in my hand as I raised it to my mouth. Dean’s arm around my stomach tightened, his fingers dug into my skin, green eyes trained on the single tear rolling down my cheek.

The first bite went down dry and thick like a lump of stale cornbread. Each bite went down easier than the last until my stomach felt fit to burst. I forced down the last bit with a sip of beer and leaned back into Dean’s chest.

Sam cleared his throat and placed both hands on his thighs before rising with a tight, half lipped smile. Dean’s arm remained around my waist as we stood and stepped around the table. His fingers slipped, grazing my shirt as I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around the younger brother.

“Goodnight, Sam.” My voice shook as his arms enveloped my back.

“Goodnight, Maribelle.” His grip tightened for a moment then his hands grasped my shoulders and he stepped away from me.

Sam offered me one last pained smile as Dean’s hand wrapped around mine. I tried to smile back at Sam, but it didn’t look nor feel quite right. A gentle tug on my hand and I turned around, following Dean through the bunker to the room we had shared for the past two years.

Once the door closed behind us, calloused fingers brushed over my skin, pulling my clothes off. Turning around as Dean removed my shirt, I dropped my hands to unbutton his shirt and push it off his shoulders. A hand on my cheek tilted my face up as lips attacked mine. Fingers around each other’s waistbands, he pulled me into him so our hips pressed against each other.

Large hands grasped my hips and guided me back until my legs hit the bed as we kicked off our pants. With an arm along my spine, he carefully laid me down on the mattress. Deft fingers unclasped my bra and tossed it across the room as he kissed down to the lace of my thong. Kneeling on the ground between my thighs, Dean slid my underwear off.

Hungry eyes settled on my sopping entrance as he drew closer. My head fell back with a moan as his tongue circled my clit then pushed inside me. Hands wrapped around my thighs held me down, spread on the edge of the bed for him. Tongue pressed to my clit, he lightly ran his teeth across and sucked the bundle of nerves.

I cried out, hands fisting the sheets, as he pushed two fingers into my wet heat. Sweat glistening on our skin, my eyes fluttered open to settle on a green predator’s gaze. Dean lightly bit my clit and curled his fingers inside me, sending my head back down to the bed with a strangled moan.

His pace sped, massaging my g-spot as his tongue expertly worked my clit. I moaned and writhed as the pleasure grew rapidly due to how well he knew my body. With one last brush of his teeth against my clit, I screamed as waves of ecstasy washed over me. He held my bucking hips to his face as I rode out the orgasm, ensuring it lasted as long as possible.

Chests heaving, Dean tossed his boxers aside and climbed onto the bed. His bare skin brushed against mine as he straddled my thighs. He gently grasped my thighs and moved me further up the bed. Soft lips brushed against my neck as he lined up at my entrance. A soft whine escaped me as he slid his length between my folds.

He groaned into my ear with the first thrust, a soft pant with the third. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and raised my hips into his. Fingers tightened around my hip, holding me still as Dean rammed into me. Nails digging into his skin, I moaned as the stubble on his cheek brushed mine.

His hand slid between us, fingers easily finding my clit, slipping around my juices in fast circles. He pressed into my bundle of nerves, speeding his thrusts to match the pace of his fingers. A soft groan resounded beside my ear as I began to clench around him.

I whined and held him close as my body trembled beneath him. Legs wrapped around his hips, I brought him into me with a moan as he bottomed out. My hair waved as he panted into it. Fingers caressed my cheek and brushed my hair away as his lips traveled up my jaw.

His hips stilled, pressed tightly to mine, as his tongue brushed my lips. I looked up into his eyes and slowly raised my head. Dean’s gaze darkened and he dipped his head, enveloping my lips in his.

The taste of beer and pie invaded my mouth with his tongue as he kissed me as if he was memorizing the way I tasted. His arm slid beneath me, holding me to him with his hand on the back of my neck. His tongue ran across my lips one last time before he rolled me over, effortlessly thrusting back into me.

With his chest to my back, he pulled my hair to one side and rested his cheek against mine. An arm wrapped across my chest, his hand on my shoulder holding me to him. One hand fisted the sheets. The other wrapped around his forearm. Head tilted back into his shoulder. His calloused hand slid over mine. Fingers sliding between my own forcing me to let go of the sheet to hold him.

His hand covered my white knuckles as he pounded into my cervix. He angled his hips to grind into my g-spot, adding force at the end of each thrust. Chest pressed to the mattress, hooded eyes opened. Dean’s eye’s pulled together for a moment as my gaze settled on his and I clenched around him.

His chin dipped down to my shoulder, nose brushing against mine as our lips met. I eagerly met him in the kiss, tongue meeting his halfway. My arm moved with his as his hand loosely enveloped my throat. I slid my hand up his arm until my fingers covered his and lightly squeezed. He groaned into my mouth as his grip tightened and he pulled me into him.

Dean bit my bottom lip, rolling it between his teeth as he pulled on it. With a glint in his eyes, he grabbed my hair and twisted it in his hand. I moaned and my walls tightened as he pushed the side of my face into the bed. He leaned down, though I still had to look up at an angle to meet his gaze.

“Is this what you want? Hm?” Dean slammed his hips into mine to emphasize his point.

“Yes.” I panted through his thrusts.

“I can’t hear you.” He pulled on my hair, forcing my head back into him.

His other hand let go of mine, snaking around my chest to grasp the base of my throat. I tried to keep my gaze trained on him, his face, though it strained my eyes. The tightening hold around my neck, the powerful thrusts, this was a side of him I rarely saw.

“Yes!” I cried as he nipped at my neck. “God, Dean. Please, don’t stop.”

“That’s a good girl.” He groaned into my ear, a thrust enunciating the last two words.

He knew the effect his words had on me. I pressed my back into him with a whine as he sank into me, pushing me into the bed. The hand in my hair forced me into the bed as he grasped my hip and pulled. I raised myself slightly for him, resting on my legs and torso evenly with my rear in the air.

His nails dug into my hips with a quiet groan as he slid deeper into me. He used his knees to spread me apart from him, holding my hips steady as each thrust forced me deeper into the mattress. Low grunts and the occasional groan grew louder as Dean pushed me closer to my climax.

My walls tightened around him with his every movement. Our bodies slick with sweat. The air filled with my moans and cries as he pounded into me. The wet squelching as he slid between my folds. His grunts punctuated each thrust as he hit my cervix.

“That’s it. Cum for me, princess.” His fingers tightened in my hair, pulling another moan from my lips as my eyes rolled back.

My hands fisted the sheets, back arched, and hips bucked as I reached my climax. Dean let go of my hair to grasp my hips. Moving me with him, he thrusted into me harder and faster than he ever had before. I screamed as I came again, trembling in his hands and pulsating around him.

His thrusts lost their rhythm as he throbbed within me. Dean’s hips stilled, pressed tightly to mine. One hand let go of me as he fell forward, catching himself on the bed beside my head. He let go of my other hip to slide his arm under me, holding me to him as we fought to catch our breath.

He lightly kissed along my shoulder, up my neck, until his lips settled on my cheek for a moment. Rolling off me, he used the arm under my chest to pull me into him. Dean drew the blankets out from beneath us, covering our bare forms while holding me to his chest.

I rested one hand on his thigh, the other between his pecs. Running my fingers through the light spattering of hair on his chest, I snuggled into him, trying to get as close as possible.

Dean pulled me into him and rolled onto his side. Wrapping both arms around me, he pulled me into him until I was enveloped in his muscular arms. His legs tangled with mine and my arm draped over his side. With one hand on his chest, I listened to his racing heart and squeezed him three times.

“I love you too.”

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[t-o-m-hollands]

Summary: It’s the late summer of 2004. You are set to travel across the country for university and your best friend Tom is staying behind. You spend your last night together before you leave. 

Themes: Friends to lovers, love confessions, first love. 

Warnings: Drinking beer. One mention of smoking weed. Mentions of parents fighting and also implied neglectful parents. Smut (+18), two spanks?? otherwise pretty tame.  

Word count: 3,4 k

Notes: I don’t know, this might be a bit different? Or it might just feel that way to me. It’s very reminiscent of teenage years and first love and nostalgia. Please let me know your thoughts, I’m genuinely not sure what to think about this one. 

Massive thank you to @augustholland​ who read through it and very kindly reassured me that it wasn’t bad 💖

Also, this fic was inspired by the Phoebe Bridgers song. I’ve never actually listened to it but it keeps showing up in my recommendation and i like the title of it so this is what i imagine that song is about. Mostly I listened to Harry Styles - Fine Line while writing this.

You finish up early that afternoon. Wayne, your old boss, tries not to cry as he hugs you goodbye. He tells you to take care in a gravelly voice close to breaking, as he avoids looking at you. It’s your last shift in the greasy bar, where for the last two years you’ve been selling cheap beer and watered down whiskey to weary old men and rowdy students who come in for a game of pool. It hasn’t paid much, just a few pounds an hour; just enough so that on each thursday you and Tom have enough money for movie tickets at the local cinema. It’s your tradition. Like a religious man goes to church each sunday; you spend your thursday nights with Tom’s arm slung around your shoulders, watching whatever new film they have on, sharing a bowl of popcorn between you. Afterwards you'll have burgers at the fast food joint across the street; talking about the movie long into the night, sharing a bag of fries. 

When you were younger and hadn’t been able to afford to pay Tom had sneaked you both into the cinema anyway.  Your hand in his, he had led the way into the movie theatre when no one was looking. Sitting in the back row he’d sneak you Fruit Polos to snack on, his arm slung around your shoulders, as you watched movies you were way too young for.

Last week was your final movie screening; some light-hearted American comedy, and the entire way through it you fought the lump in your throat, forcing yourself not to cry. Tom hadn’t laughed either; had just held you closer than usual. 

Tomorrow you are set to leave the small seaside town behind you, the place where you have spent most of your life, for a drive all across the country; to start university in a city you’ve only visited once before. You’re not sure when you’ll return.

Thus lately everything has been laced with goodbyes; childhood having reached its end.

Just two days ago there had been the last bonfire where you had watched the Holland boys fight each other while playing football as his parents looked on and laughed, grilling sausages over the open fire. 

It was on the same rocky beach where you have spent many summer days; grilling food on the open fire and throwing back cheap beer with your friends from school. You have scraped your knees on these rocks, burned your skin from both the bonfire and the sun there; have had your heart broken over and over and over again during your school years as you watched Tom kiss whatever girl he was dating at the time by the fire during summer night parties.

Maybe you had broken his heart a few times as well. 

As the afternoon light turns everything golden you drive through the main street in the small town where  everyone knows everybody, and has done for generations. You watch the people as you drive them by. You know everyone’s name, know each crack in the pavement; can find your way home in the dark. 

God knows how many shoes you’ve worn out over the years walking down these streets. 

The radio plays a blink-182 song you know by heart as you follow the road out of the city, through the woods and up to the coast. At the end of a muddy track, on the border to the forest, stands a shabby old caravan. It faces the beach and above the door christmas lights are lit up all year round. 

The Holland family legend says that Tom’s great uncle had won the small patch of land in a bet. Unable to build a large house he had bought a caravan and put it on the lot. The old man had lived in the Shed for the rest of his lifetime, before passing it on to Tom; the youngster of the family, his younger brothers having yet to be born. When he had turned seventeen he moved out of his parents larger, more comfortable house, and into the Shed. His mother had agreed on it on the condition he took on the apprenticeship to become a carpenter that he had been offered. 

You remember when he had told you of his decided future, one late evening as you sat on the driftwood by the beach, smoking weed and watching the sun set over the horizon. It had felt right somehow, you had been able to  imagine him working with his hands, skillfully forming and bending wood to his will; his long and slender fingers knowing just how to fix things. Tom has always been good at mending things. It had been three years now and he was a full time employee at the JBT Carpentry Services. He says it doesn’t pay much, but he’s happy; and that's all that matters.

As you park the car outside the Shed Tom comes out. Standing under the colorful christmas lights he grins widely as he sees you, his eyes crinkling at the sides. The most genuine smile you know. He’s tanned from a summer spent on the beach, his hair a wavy mess; as if he’d just woken up from sleep. It’s a warm august day and the world seems sunbleached somehow; but in the afternoon light Tom looks golden. 

You are painfully aware that it is the last time you’ll see him like this for many months to come.

Walking up to him and he gives you a bear-hug; his warm, hard body pressed against yours, holding onto you tightly. With your face in the crook of his neck you breathe him in and discover that a faint trace of bonfire smoke still lingers on his skin. It all feels achingly familiar and safe. So heartrendingly unlike the uncertain life at university that lies in front of you.

Tom is your safe place.

Your parents had always fought like cat and dog and sometimes when you were younger and  they’d argue you’d climb through your window and walk all the way over to the Holland household. You were always welcomed there and his parents didn’t ask any questions, no matter how late the hour; instead they fed you, treating you like a member of the family around the dining table with gentle teasing and reminders of homework that needed to be done, letting you sleep over when needed. No questions asked. 

With the years the fighting at home got worse. When Tom fixed himself a beat-up old Land Rover and moved out to the Shed you’d call him from the payphone down the road. He’d always answer, telling you to pack up; and that he was on his way. He’d pick you up by the end of the street, a duffle bag with schoolbooks and a change of clothes slung over your shoulder. He’d take you back to his place to sleep. His caravan only had one bed, so you used to curl up next to each other in bed. On the nights when you were crying he’d hold you, and in the morning he’d make you breakfast before you both went off to school. 

Your parents never noticed your temporary absence. 

Tom lets go of the hug, but with an arm around your waist he leads you into his home. There’s a lingering scent of fried food in the air and the boombox is playing the 3 Doors down CD he’s been obsessed with since you bought it for his birthday. You tread the cherry wood veneered flooring with your battered tennis shoes, feeling more at home here than anywhere else on earth.

 “Fancy a beer?” Tom asks, leading the way to the kitchen area. “Warn you though, it's warm. Just got back from the store so they haven’t had time to cool”.

Everything is warm today, and the caravan is no exception. The ancient AC had given in years ago and Tom could never afford having it fixed. You heave yourself up on the countertop, replying a simple “sure” to his question. 

He opens a Stella and hands it to you. He isn’t wrong, the beer is tepid. Yet you drown half the bottle in one big swig; happy just to have something to do with your hands when he’s standing so close to you. Gulping down on the liquid and you cannot help but notice Tom’s eyes on your throat as you swallow. He opens a bottle for himself and takes a swig. 

You smile at the ancient gray t-shirt he’s wearing. At one point there had been a band logo on it, but it has long since been washed out. He notices you smiling at him and as if it's infectious a smile broadens on his face as well. “What?” he asks, leaning against the small counter across from you.

“Nothing” you say, smiling wider. “Just wondered how many times I’ve seen you in that shirt. I mean, it has to be near a couple of thousand times by now”.

“You don't exactly love buying new clothes either” he says, a teasing smile playing at his lips as he looks at your washed out jeans shorts. “I know for a fact that those aren’t new, darling”. His eyes linger on your legs for a moment too long before he looks away, taking a swig from his beer. 

“So, when are you leaving?” He asks, and you can tell that he’s trying to sound relaxed, but leaned against the countertop, his arms crossed in front of him, head bowed; holding onto the bottle of Stella he’s nursing with a tight grip. He looks tense and on edge. 

“Tomorrow morning”

He takes a swig from his beer. There’s nothing more to say, not really. Everything that happens now is just aftermath; you might as well have already left. 

“I’m nervous” you admit, biting your lip, trying hard not to et out the tears you’ve been holding in for days now; embarrassed that your voice trembles on the last word. 

His head snaps up to look at you. Pushing off the counter he takes a step forward, placing himself in between your legs. 

“Hey” he says, with a voice a low and gentle as a whisper, his hand cupping your cheek. You look up at him; long dark eyelashes framing his beautiful brown eyes, his thin lips slightly parted and across his nose freckles are spread out, the result from a summer spent in the sun. His calloused hand strokes your cheek. “You’re going to take them by storm, Pebbles”.

You smile, despite your fluttering heart. He hasn’t called you Pebbles for a long time. It had been his nickname for you when you first became friends, the reason behind it long forgotten. He was the only one to ever call you it, and the name had lingered long into your late teenage years. 

“You took me by storm,” he admits. 

You blink up at him through wet eyelashes. Your family had moved to the town when you were ten years old. This was the kind of small town that strangers seldom came to and inhabitants rarely left; and so the new addition to the small local school had everyone talking. You had felt like an astronaut shuffled into space on your first day, trying to find gravity in the unfamiliar school corridors. You had felt the pull of gravity in form of the brown-eyed boy sitting next to you in english class. He had given you a warm smile as you sat down next to him. He had made you his friend, listened to you and confided in you; had made you laugh until your stomach ached. You found further gravity in his home; surrounded by his family and their endless squabbles and laughter, sitting next to Tom at the dinner table.

It hadn’t taken long before you and Tom were an inseparable item; your names always linked to one another in the mouths of others. 

“You’ve worked so hard for this scholarship” he says, and the corners of his mouth tugs up into a smile, “I mean, I’m pretty certain you’re the only reason I even finished school”.

You had helped him write most of his essays at school. He’d struggled with reading a lot and found the assigned novels difficult. There were evenings where you’d spend hours laying on the bed; twisting the phone cord between your fingers, as you read the books out loud for him. 

Sometimes, in order to be left alone from his parents and younger brothers, he’d walk down to the end of the street and to the payphone there, where he’d spend all his pennies listening to you reading. You had talked and talked until your voice got hoarse; until he ran out of pennies. Yet when he hung up you always felt a tug of longing in your chest, knowing you wouldn’t be able to see him until the next day in school. 

“Well,  I heard you’re doing pretty good as a carpenter” you say, smiling up at him. “I always knew you’d be good with your hands”. 

As soon as you’ve said it you can feel your face heat up. You had heard the rumours at school; Tom Holland is a stellar fuck. Once, while you were in the bathroom stall, you had heard a gang of girls discuss it as they reapplied their lipgloss in the mirror. One of them told the story of her one night stand with Tom, how he had made her come several times over with his hands and mouth; how he’d fucked her so long and so good. You had stood in the stall, your heart in your throat; feeling sick to your stomach, but unable to stop listening.

There were girls that reached out to you in school, knowing you were Tom’s closest friend, and asked you in hushed but awed voices if it was true. If he really that good in bed.

He looks you dead in the eye, an unusual seriousness to his warm eyes. He knows what you’re thinking, knows what thoughts have made your cheeks flush with colour. Letting go of your cheek he places his arms on either side of you on the counter; caging you in. 

“There’s never been anyone but you, Pebbles. Not really.” His tone is heavy with meaning and you feel light-headed; both oddly detached from your own body and painfully aware of the closeness of his. Your heart is beating hard in your chest. 

This is a line you’ve never crossed before. 

“I know I’m ruining everything by saying this, but you’re leaving tomorrow and I’ve been walking around with this secret lodged in my chest like a bullet since i was ten years old; I love you, Pebbles. I’ve always have”.

You should speak. You should tell him that you’ve known for a long time how he’s felt. That it’s been evident in the way his eyes keep lingering on your legs, in the way his arm usually finds its way to rest around your waist. In the way he’s always been there for you. You should tell him that you understand why he hasn’t been able to voice his feelings for you; because you haven’t done it either. Too scared of losing him. But your breath has caught in your throat and all you can focus on is those caramel eyes on you, and how hard your heart is beating in your chest.

“I love you too” you say, voice hardly louder than a whisper. You swear there was music coming from the boom box but all you can hear is the blood rushing through your body. 

He kisses you.

He takes your mouth slowly, kissing you thoroughly until you can’t think straight; can’t remember any other kiss than his. Then his lips move over yours with more fervour; more urgency, one hand around your throat and the other tangled in your hair. He kisses you until you're both moaning and gasping for more. 

This is it. You’ve crossed the invisible line between friends and lovers; and there is no return, no going back from here. When you leave tomorrow you will leave knowing what his mouth feels like pressed against your.

You dig your hands into his soft hair, runs them both up his chest, realising that this is what your hands were made for. He lifts you off the counter and you wrap your legs around his waist. He moves you both across the caravan and into the bedroom. It’s baking hot in there and you can already feel sweat forming at the low end of your back. The room, just big enough for a bed to fit, is lit up with sunlight. His bed is a mess of rumpled white sheets and the walls are the same cherry wood colour as the rest of the caravan. 

You kiss and lick his jaw, his neck, his throat; anywhere you can reach you stroke him. You tug at his hair, kiss his soft lips, and nib at his ear. It’s like the gates have been opened, because even though his arm has always been a comforting presence around your waist; and even though you’ve slept in the same bed more times than you can count, his body curled up next to yours, forming himself like a question mark around your body; he’s never been yours to touch before. Not like this.

His breathing is accelerated, his chest rising and falling in rapid speed, and so is yours. There’s a heat to his eyes that tells you he’s just as turned on as you are. You pull at his shirt before he’s even laid you down on the bed; impatiently craving all his warm, suntanned skin pressed against yours. It’s an almost feverish frenzy, and in the back of your mind you know that you should take this slow. You don’t want this to end too soon, because this might be all you get. But the sun hasn’t even set yet and through the old white-washed curtains you helped put up and light shines through, bathing you both sunshine. 

Outside the waves keep crashing against the shore and in the kitchen his boombox keeps playing songs you’ve heard a million times before. It is like it always has been at Tom’s, except that for laying on his sofa and talking he’s removing your clothes; kissing his way down your body. Wet, opened mouth kisses that leave a trail of heat in its wake that have you bucking your hips up for more. His hands are everywhere, exploring your legs. He’s looking at your skin with wide-eyes adoration. With his body in between your wide spread legs he kisses the soft inside of your thighs. 

“So soft” he groans against your skin, “and so sweet”.

You feel overheated and breathless; aching all over from wanting him. Perched up on your elbows you observe him; his dark hair brushing against the low of your stomach as he kisses the tender skin of your hip bone. He bares his teeth and bites the sensitive flesh. 

His hand cups your cunt. You’re wet and aching and as you presses his thumb to your clit, gently but steadily moving up and down, you feel like you’re going to combust. His strokes are soft at first, before speeding up, making you moan wantonly, spreading your legs wider for him.

“Glad you like that,” he says, a satisfied smile spreading on his face. “Do my fingers feel good on you, darling?”

All you can do is moan in response, arching and moving your hips up to meet his hand. His movements are fast and slippery and it doesn’t take long until your close, so close, so close; on the brink of tipping over and then - 

A sharp slap on your pussy, leaving a stinging bite, and it is like the world splits into two. 

“God” you moan, voice hoarse. You’re shuddering all over; moanes falling freely from your lips. 

He looks up at you from his position in between your legs, his dark eyes sparkling. He kisses the soft inside of your thighs again. “You have any idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you here?” he asks. “I bet you do, torturing me for fun in those short jeans shorts”. He spanks your pussy again and you couldn’t have stopped the moan falling from your lips even if you tried. “How long I’ve wanted to taste you here?”. And he places a hot kiss on your wet slit. You can feel his soft hair pressed against your thighs; his warm breath against your skin.

His lips part and he covers you with his mouth, his tongue moving over your opening; touching you, stroking you, tasting you. A guttural moan leaves him. He looks up at you through tassels of hair, caramel eyes glued to your face.

You fall back against the mattress, “more” you demand, in a voice that sounds a lot like begging. “Please, more”.

It is as if he’s been unleashed. You have never felt anything like it, but he laps you up, tastes you; his fingers moving inside you; pressing against the place that has you seeing stars. You can’t even look at him now, you’re eyes shut; too overwhelmed by the stimulation. Both aching for more but not sure if your body can handle that kind of pleasure. Your thighs are shaking, and something in your stomach grows tighter and tighter by each flick of his tongue against your clit.

“I’m coming” you cry out breathlessly “fuck I’m coming”

And you do. Hard. He keeps kissing and touching you through it; both grounding you and dragging out the intense sensation. 

His hands, now familiar with your thighs, make their way up to the soft swell of your breasts, as you struggle to regain your breath. He’s cupping them in his hands, pinching your nipples in between his fingers, kissing them with ferveor. Hungry hands move over your breasts, your stomach, your face; cupping it so that he can kiss you with the sort of yearning that comes from years of unanswered desire. 

Your hands move over his body as well, moving over his abdomen chest and arms, defined from long hours of hard work. You kiss his throat and collarbones, kissing at the skin; licking, sucking and biting until you hear guttural moans coming from his throat. His lips are slightly parted, and his glossy dark eyes are fixed on your face; his fingers loosely tangled in your hair. 

He presses you down onto the mattress again, until he’s face to face; his arms on each side of your face, holding himself over you.

“You sure?” he asks, voice hoarse, panting slightly. 

“I want this” you answer him, voice low but clear, “I really, really want this Tom”

He smiles, breathing out the breath he’d been holding and moves away from you, reaching for the side of his bed and to take out a condom from the drawer. 

He places a quick kiss to your lips, your cheek, your belly button, before he sits up. He removes his underwear and you can feel your face heat up again. Because this is Tom, your Tom, whom you’ve been in love with for half your life. But being with him, both naked as the day you were born, feels right. You know everything about this man, all his preferences and secrets; his favourite movie and how he likes his food and why he skipped class every day for a month in year nine. And he knows everything about you. It feels right that he should know this as well; know each curve of your body and the way you like to be kissed and what has you moaning and begging for more. 

He unwraps the foil package and puts the condom on with firm fingers. Leaning over you again he lines up against your opening. His eyes glossy with lust, damp hair falling over his face; his mouth swollen and wet from kissing you.

Then with a sharp thrust and a groan he’s inside you. 

All coherent thoughts go out the window as he starts moving in and out of you. The only thing that exists is his strong, sweaty body above you, moving in and out of you with slow, deep thrusts. He’s so hard where you are soft and you can’t stop touching him, dragging your fingers over his back, pulling at his hair, kissing his arms. It’s like the wires in your brain have crossed, sending out sparks of pure pleasure in your body. 

He hits a particularly tender spot inside you and the groan that leaves you is almost animalistic.

Tom nearly halters in his pace, before collecting himself again. “Fuck” he moans out, kissing your neck. His movements become more frenzied and you roll your hips under him, meeting his movements; trying to get him deeper inside you. 

He pushes himself up onto his hands, pulls back slightly; and pushes in. Starting to really fuck you. 

You can’t stop looking up at him; naked body damp with sweat, muscles moving as he works; arms flexed and cheeks flushed. His eyes are closed pleasure now. Your hands are on his hips helping him set the pace as he fucks into you with fast, hard thrusts. Without warning you clutch around him in pleasure and he groans loudly.

“How the fuck does your cunt feel better than it tastes?” he asks, panting for air. “

He presses a hand over your heart, letting it rest there. You wonder if he can feel it pounding for him. You feel like you’re dissolving into a thousand tiny pieces as you come around him with a choked scream. 

He’s so close and you can practically feel it; aching for him to have it. You want him to come; in you, on you, over you. 

And then he does, his brows furrows; like the pleasure is so intense it hurts him. The sounds he makes when he comes are guttural; almost whimpering. 

As he falls down on the bed beside you he pulls you close, has you pressed against his body, an arm firmly wrapped around you. The sun has set now, but the ocean waves still crash onto the shore, the sound of it the only thing to fill the silence part from your laboured breathing; the music having gone quiet in the other room. 

Neither one of you say anything. You knew the end to this when he kissed you. You’ve regretted nothing that has happened here, and you know that he doesn’t either; but tomorrow you are leaving to drive all the way across the country and he cannot follow. You don’t know what will happen now, and he doesn't have the answer to that either. And so you just let him hold you; wishing with all your might that you could stop the morning from coming.

***

Please let me know your thoughts, genuinely don’t know what to make of this one. 

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Not Theirs {Steve Harrington x Plus Size Reader}

Plot: You’re getting picked on at school and Steve steps up to defend you.

Character: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Female Identifying Reader

Notes: bullying, low confidence, avoidance of eating, grabbing without consent

Part of my Plus Size Reader x Character series!

Another day, another long day of school was ahead of you. A few years ago you had loved school, you’d loved learning, you’d loved hanging out with friends but as you grew up and as others seemed to get more immature, you’d become somewhat of a target for them to pick on you. At first, it was a comment here or there about your weight. Now, you knew that you weren’t skinny and petite like other girls but you didn’t think anyone would really care? After all, it was your body, not theirs. However, teenage idiot boys and snide girls enjoyed picking on you more and more until what little confidence you had was gone.

You used to quite like the way you looked. You thought all bodies were beautiful, all shapes and sizes and you used to feel good about the way your thighs and tummy looked but recently, due to those comments, you stopped looking in the mirror; you stopped admiring yourself and instead, you started wearing clothes that took attention away from those things you’d once loved.

Once showered and dressed, you made your way to the kitchen. Your mom was making pancakes for you. She knew it was your favourite breakfast and she knew that you’d been going through a bit of a hard time recently (though she didn’t know why) so though she’d make your favourite to cheer you up. A feeling of uneasiness came over you when you sat at the kitchen island to have breakfast. You stared down at the breakfast in front of you as your stomach rumbled. Deep down, you knew you shouldn’t listen to the bullies but the names they called you... It was horrible. Your mind thought about not eating, about losing a bit of weight and maybe they’d leave you alone. You knew it wasn’t healthy, you knew that it would do more damage than good but you just wanted them to leave you alone.

All you wanted was to be good enough, to be pretty enough, to be skinny enough; to be enough. If you were enough, would they leave you alone? If you were skinny, would they stop the jeers and the taunts? Would they ever stop? Honestly, you didn’t know. You didn’t know if they would stop. They knew you were a target so they’d probably always try and shoot you down.

Taking a breath, you pushed the plate away, telling your mom that you weren’t feeling too good so you’d pass on the pancakes. She frowned, knowing something was up but couldn’t question it because you were already halfway out of the door.

You had decided to walk to school, walking was good exercise and if you did it often enough, surely you’d lose something? It was horrible thoughts and you felt like crying as you thought of them but you just wanted them to leave you alone. Your stomach gargled and grumbled, screaming out that it needed food. You rubbed it, hoping that the hunger would die down soon enough. You’d have a small lunch and a small dinner and that would be enough. But that would not be enough, you knew it. You knew that limiting yourself like that was detrimental.

School was busy when you got there, usually you were quite early but because you walked you were bang on time. Quickly, you rushed up the steps to get to your locker. Breathing fast after just running up the steps and walking a lot, you could feel your face hot and sweaty. You just hoped no one would see you.

“Look!” A voice laughed and you felt like bursting into tears then and there,  “Here’s the piggy out of breath and sweaty after running for ten seconds!”

You ducked your head, hoping that if you didn’t acknowledge them, they’d leave you alone but instead, the taunts followed you down the halls as quick as you walked. Tears burned in your eyes as you tried to get to your locker.

“Run, piggy!” A girl laughed loudly behind you, “Run!”

“She’s too tired,” a boy snickered, “that running up the front steps really took it out of her.”

Shame burned hot in your cheeks as a lump rose in your throat. If you could get to your locker, throw your things in and get to class you’d be okay. If you tried to ignore them, but ignoring them seemed useless. Their taunts and comments grew louder, their laughter boomed and echoed in the hallways. They knew you were upset and they thrived on that, they loved holding that power over you so they would do more, say more and act out more.

They got braver when you were upset and one took the chance to run up behind you and grab you from behind, spinning you around, pulling your jumper up to reveal your stomach and grabbing at your folds, “Look at all this ugly flab!”

You yelped, shoving out of his grasp and flying to the opposite side of the hall. You couldn’t help the tears now after the violation of your body. You sucked in fast breaths and almost didn’t hear the heavy footsteps and the, “What the fuck, dude?!”

Through blurry vision, you made out that Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington was towering over the group of bullies, “Just a bit of fun, Steve.”

“Does that looks like (y/n)’s had fun? You’ve just grabbed her and violated her without consent. All of you are jerks.”

“C’mon, man, she was asking for it-”

Steve’s hand clenched into a fist and he swung for the boy. He hit the boy square in the jaw, the sound making you jump slightly. The group scattered,  “What the fuck?!” Steve hissed as he shook his hand.

“She wasn’t asking for it. She wasn’t asking for you to violate her. She was walking the halls and you were all terrorising her. Scram before I hit you again.” The boy was muttering under his breath about Steve as he got up, rubbing his jaw and rushed away.

You stayed, back pressed against the lockers, breathing heavy as the tears wouldn’t stop falling. Steve came towards you, whole demeanour changing as he stopped in front of you, “Are you okay?” You only managed to shake your head, “I’m gonna get you outta here, okay? Can I touch you?” You nodded, allowing him your consent to wrap an arm around you shoulders and guide you from the school. You let him help you into his car and that’s where you truly just broke down.

Steve let you. He didn’t ask anything of you, he didn’t start the car; he just let you get out all of those emotions. He grabbed his bag that was in the backseat, pulling out tissues and a bottle of water. He placed them beside you for when you were ready. You couldn’t stop crying. You felt dirty; violated. How dare they touch you like that? You felt horrible, your skin crawled and the deep self loathing you felt was awful.

It was a long time later when you managed to calm down enough to talk, “Thank you,” you whispered after taking a long drink of water to hydrate yourself, “You- You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” he said, nodding, “Course I had to. You think I’m gonna let them grab you like that and say that stuff to you without stepping in? No way. It’s not gonna happen again, I promise you.”

You looked at him, lip trembling. You and Steve had barely spoken before, you’d maybe spoken a handful of times and that was in class. You didn’t know why he’d stuck up for you, why he’d just punched a boy for you and now he was skipping school with you.

“You know, they’re lying, right?” He said quietly, “What they were saying about you - you’re not ugly, you’re not a pig... They’re the ugly ones.”

You scoffed, looking out of the window to look at the school, “(y/n), I’m being serious, you’re not-”

“Why do you care, Steve?” You snapped, “Why do you care about what they call me, about what they’ve done? We’re not friends!” You really didn’t mean it, you really didn’t mean to be so angry and upset at him. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t hurt you but he was the only one here so he was getting your anger.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t fazed by the sudden outburst but instead said, “I care because you don’t deserve that. How dare they touch you and violate you like that? How dare they have that much power of you? They bully you every day and you do nothing to anyone. You sit in class, tapping your pen on the desk when you’re thinking and end up throwing the cap off it by accident constantly because you’re too concentrated when you’re doing it and you don’t do anything to anyone-”

“How do you know that?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Come on, I’ve sat behind you for two years in Geography, I know a little about you even though we’re not friends. Besides, it’s your body, not theirs. They should never hold an opinion on your body, they should never bat an eyelid. You are beautiful.”

The statement caught you off guard, the way he stared deeply into your eyes caught you off guard too. You knew he was telling the truth, “You mean that?”

“Being beautiful isn’t purely outer appearance, it’s everything; personality, manners, whatever else. So what if you’ve got extra weight on your bones? You think that makes you unlovable? You think that makes you ugly? No way in hell,” he scoffed loudly, “the only way you’d be unlovable was if you turned into those bullies.” When he finished, he gave you a curt nod and turned to look out the window, frightened of your reactions. He’d ranted and spoken a lot about you candidly for someone who didn’t really know you but it touched you.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “for defending me, for punching that dick-” Steve laughed, “for letting me cry in your car... Thank you for asking to touch me.”

“No one should ever make you feel that way.”

You looked at each other when your stomach grumbled loudly, once again begging for food. Steve laughed again, “Have you eaten today?” You shook your head, “Wanna go get a burger?”

“I-” you faltered, hands instinctively moving to your stomach. Steve reached out but stopped when he was centimetres away. You looked at him and nodded, allowing him to do what he wanted.

He took your hands gently, “You don’t have to be self conscious about anything in front of me, (y/n),” he murmured, “I find you more attractive than anyone in that school, I think you’re beautiful. Please, don’t hide.” You would’ve cried if you had anymore tears left in you to cry. He spoke to honestly and openly, a real change of pace, “You are enough, more than enough.”

You let your hands rest at your sides and cleared your throat, “So... burgers?” Steve smiled as he started up the car and began talking about something else. You watched the sky from the window as he drove, looking at the clouds in the sky, all those different shapes and sizes and still very much beautiful. You hoped that with Steve’s help, you’d be able to see yourself through his eyes but for now, having him speaking those truths to you was good enough for now.