#maybe it's something like my body is just so overwhelmed by feeling like it's dying that i lose a lot of my mental functioning

[wiremotherofficial]

i feel like it does not make sense for being cold to be legitimately debilitating for me but for some reason it really is

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — fucking your enemy doesn't really sound like a good plan or wait, maybe it does! <3

warnings — enemies to lovers, fingering, playful childe, fem! reader

childe always approaches you with that damn smirk on his face, his gaze intense and unwavering, a sprinkle of confidence playing on his lips.

the harbinger had always been your enemy, the embodiment of danger and excitement, and despite the many battles the both of you had fought, you couldn't lie to yourself but admit that there was an undeniable pull between you— a connection you refused to acknowledge, even to yourself at times.

"ah, you fought well today," childe's was barely out of breath as he throws his hands up in the air to feign defeat, his voice low and husky, a dangerous edge to his tone, "but you're not as strong as you think you are, heh."

without batting your lashes, you glare back at him with your body tense of anger, every single nerve inside on edge, "—and you're still as arrogant as ever, childe."

fuck, how much he adored it whenever you showed him a little of your sweet temper, it's a little salty too but he doesn't mind that— in fact, it gets him going and arouses something deep below.

naturally his smirk widens the moment you say it, his eyes darkening with something far more primal that he'd originally let on, "me? arrogant? oh am i? or am i just confident?"

you roll your eyes and before you could even find a good enough response, he instantly closes the distance between you in a swift stride— without haste, folding your spirit in half with his presence becoming overwhelming.

in an attempt to turn around and leave his hand grabs towards your arm, gripping your wrist with a surprising gentleness that was never experienced before by you, yet with the strength you've known far too well, one that left no room for escape.

"you think you can hide it from me? i can see it in your eyes, you know," he murmurs underneath his heightened breathing, slanting towards your face closer and closer until you could feel his warm breath against your ear, "the way you look at me, you see? the way your body reacts when I'm near like that— ugh, you're so shy, but I know you've been dreaming about this, as have i, or haven’t you?"

your heart races at the absurdity in his sentence— or was there even a sprinkle of a lie inside of it? how long until you cannot run from the feelings you harbored for him anymore? or was it simply lust that kept the drive inside of yourself working.

a mixture of fear yet also excitement floods your senses— you really wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the truth was, his words struck a deep chord within you, you're doomed and yes, in fact, you had dreams about him— of feeling him inside you, feeling his cock twitch and thicken while he's grinding himself in you, fucking your tight cunt as the fantasies of surrendering to the raw, forbidden desire consumed you.

you knew he must be good in bed, amazing even, there was no chance in hell that he wasn't with that striking personality of his.

"cut the crap childe, i don't know what you're talking about," you stammer back, but my dear, don't you hear? your voice betrayed you just this second, right in front of his eyes as you began to tremble with the weight of your secret longing dying to be set free.

"oh? but i think you do," he whispers before saying your name so sensually that it felt like someone's set your body on fire.

the man continues as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck;

"you've wanted this for so long, right? this—"

and before you could muster a response, his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss that made your brain rewire, the touch of his lips strong and ruthless as one hand slid up to cup the back of your head, holding you firmly in place.

you weren't surprised by how childe kissed you, in fact, you imagined how it felt like— granted, it was better than you originally fantasized.

the kiss was rough, as if he was looking for an answer, and it shattered the last bit of your very resistance as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body igniting with a fire you had tried so hard to suppress— yet, was it actually bad that you went against your own beliefs? just this once?

of course, you both were on different sides, supporting different agendas but this— fuck, this, it felt so good, why was the darkness childe expelled so mesmerizing? like biting into a poised apple and still relishing in getting tainted?

the harbingers hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if he had every right to do this and his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine before he pushed you against the cold stone wall, the contrast between the cool surface and his heated skin only heightening your needful senses.

although before going further, he abruptly stopped the kiss, at last lapping across your bottom lip and seeking your gaze, "tell me you want this, i need this," he growls against your lips, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising energy, "tell me you've dreamed of this moment too."

you close your eyes and take a deep breath, a shaky whimper escaping your lips as you felt the grip on you tighten. each one of his touch, his breath hitting your skin and his words played into your beating heart and you couldn't, you just weren't able to stop your body from liking this.

your back arches a little as to show him without words, without needing to admit it— right now, you weren't sure if you could ever say it out loud.

like snowfall, his touch was cold, but it felt oddly comforting.

but you let him move forward as one hand slips beneath your clothes, finding your wetness between your thighs, your folds messed up and puffy for him. "childe i— i... i want this too," you admit against your own volition, the words tumbling out before you could even stop them, "i’ve dreamed of you, childe, maybe..."

you got him now— or, does he have you wrapped around his finger instead? regardless, his eyes blaze with a glistening triumph hanging over his irises as he captures your lips again.

he begins slowly, his fingers working around your hole with expert precision, circling your entrance and collecting your slick with such precision which you originally only knew of his ways of fighting as he coaxes out every inch of your pleasure.

you're writhing and hiding your moans into his chest, the volume of your whimpers growing when he pokes one finger in.

with a growl, he rips your shirt aside to expose your breasts, the fabric tearing in his haste— and before you knew it, his own jacket followed as you helped discard them quickly.

"look at me," he commands, "feel how i touch you there," as his voice resembles a rough whisper.,"i want to see the look in your eyes when i touch and touch you,"

you obeyed, meeting his gaze, your breath hitching as he thrusts one finger into you with a single, powerful flick forward.

the sensation was immediately overwhelming, not due to the fact that he was beginning to stimulate your hole with fast thrusts of his digit fucking in and out of you but the sole thought of childe doing it was the final nail in the coffin.

your heart was beginning to hurt from riding his fingers, furiously rattling against your ribcage as you threw out the last amount of dignity you had inside your body, becoming one with the movements of his hand before starting to seek it.

his wet tongue drags from your neck towards your collar bones before reaching your nipples, immediately taking one in his mouth as the heel of his hand began to press into your clit painfully hard, the feeling only multiplying when you shoved yourself into it more, better and deeper, until your body flashes you with a heat you cannot escape.

one more finger, more, and each pump turned rougher and moredemanding with the pace of his hand being relentless, cruel as you almost climaxed by just looking at him— how his wet lips left a trail of saliva on your slicked chest and ugh, that delirious glimmer in his eyes. 

childe truly likes the feeling of you clenching around his knuckles, he might become addicted to it, and he believes he'd actually die a happy man if he'd be able to feel you squeeze around his thick cock like that.

but you have to do it just like that, with your pussy drooling over his desperately and touch depraved, so he could taste you right after, yeah? have you all around his tongue.

he's not sure if he can even fit inside, ah, how excited he gets when he imagines your eyes glow and turn all big and pretty when he lets you see him from below his clothes— he knows for a fact he will make it fit.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[strawberry-jackalope]

felt like I was beginning to get all lost personality again, so I went and got my hair cut and dyed

[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve got the tattoo the day they held the very small, very secret service for Eddie.

He knew he had to get it somewhere hidden, didn’t wanna answer questions, not even from Robin.

The E+S on his upper thigh was precious to him, all he had left of the promises they made to each other as children and again as teenagers.

Eddie was Steve’s, even if he wasn’t here, and Steve would always be Eddie’s, even if Eddie no longer knew.

But eventually, the end of summer came, and the kids wanted to have something normal. Normal for them was a pool party that ended in a sleepover, and Steve didn’t have much choice about making it happen.

He wanted them to have something normal.

So he got his bathing suit on, forgetting the tattoo was in a spot that might show in it, and tried to have fun with them.

Robin noticed and then Max noticed, and once he’d tried getting out of the explanation twice in a row, Dustin and Will noticed.

So he just explained that he lost a dare with Tommy years ago and that got them to stop asking.

But he found himself crying in the shower that evening, trying his best not to make any noise as sobs wracked his body and it got harder and harder to breathe.

The only thing that snapped him out of it was the knowledge that Eddie would want him to go back downstairs to be with the kids. He wouldn’t want to see Steve like this.

He kissed his fingertips and pressed them to his tattoo, just like he’d done every single day since he got it.

And then he went downstairs to be with the kids.

His one rule during sleepovers at his house was he still go to sleep in his own bed. Sometimes Robin would join him, but most of the time, he slept alone.

He couldn’t sleep.

He could feel the exhaustion deep in his bones, but every time he closed his eyes and tried to drift, he’d get an overwhelming feeling of being watched.

His eyes would open and he’d look around, confused and frustrated.

And nothing would be there.

Which was good, great even. He didn’t want there to be anyone or anything there. But he did want an explanation for this feeling.

He sat up in his bed and sighed.

Maybe he could-

Something was definitely in his bathroom. The door had been closed earlier, like it always was, and now it was halfway open.

The light was off.

Steve stood from his bed silently, crept to the bathroom with his nail bat raised, and considered what would happen if he died up here.

“That’s a depressing thought even for your melodramatics, sweetheart.”

Steve barely resisted screaming at Eddie’s voice.

“Oh god. I’ve finally fuckin’ lost it,” he said as he turned the bathroom light on.

“I dunno. You still got it, baby. Even if you lost some weight in your ass.”

Eddie, or something that looked and talked like Eddie, was sitting on the sink in the bathroom.

“I did like those little swim trunks, though. Hope you wear those again for me.”

“What the fuck.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I said when I woke up alive. Kinda thought I was dying. Imagine my surprise when I didn’t.”

Steve held his bat tighter.

“Eddie? How?”

Eddie hopped off the sink and stepped closer, slowly, so he wouldn’t scare Steve.

“Not sure. But it’s not the craziest thing that’s happened.” Eddie wanted to touch him, Steve could tell. His hands were clenching into fists to resist. “I know I���m not human, but I’m close enough, I think.”

“Close enough for what?”

“To love you.”

Steve dropped the bat and fell against Eddie, burying his face in his neck and breathing him in, not caring about the dirt or sweat or grime clinging to his skin.

It was Eddie, and he’d take him any way he could have him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ve been trying to get back here for so long.” Eddie’s arms held him tight enough to bruise. “Won’t happen again, won’t leave you again.”

Steve’s sobs were loud, but trying to contain them physically pained him. He’d been in enough pain for months. He had to let these out.

He felt Eddie waving his hands behind him, but then heard Robin’s rambling and decided to turn.

“-and he’s been distraught for months but didn’t tell me anything and then I saw his tattoo earlier and I thought, well, must just be a joke you guys had. And then I was like, no, can’t be, because you barely spoke. Or at least I thought you did. Clearly I’m wrong. I’m super wrong. Wrongest I’ve ever been maybe.”

“Robs.” Steve’s choked voice silenced her. “You know how I told you to go for it with Nancy because I really didn’t have feelings for her?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant, but yeah.”

“She protected me, both of us, really, so we could be together. Offered to pretend to date me so no one would get suspicious.”

“Steve. Steve Harrington. You had a beard?”

Eddie snorted. “I know you said she was funny, but I’m pretty she’s my second favorite human now.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve been with Eddie for forever. I mean, since we were kids practically.”

Robin was silent. A rare thing for her.

“Robin?”

“Sorry, just taking this in.”

“Yeah, Eddie being alive is a lot-“

“Not that. That is gonna come a lot later once I stop and think about the fact that he’s some kind of zombie.” Robin leaned against the doorway. “The fact that I came out to my best friend and he didn’t return the favor. That is queer code, Steve.”

Eddie laughed, and Steve let out another sob. He’d missed him so much, missed his laugh, his arms around him, his heartbeat-

“Eds. Eddie.” Steve lifted his head and pressed both hands to his chest. “You-“

“Ah. So I don’t seem to have a heartbeat anymore. As far as I can tell, I did actually die.” Eddie shrugged as if this news wasn’t absolutely insane. “So my best guess is vampire since I prefer blood to brains. But I can get by without it for a pretty long time.”

“How long?”

“Well, I haven’t had any since the day I woke up. Which is a few months according to your calendar.”

Robin held her hands up. “I’m going. Good luck. The kids are gonna flip.”

“Do not tell them. Not yet.”

Steve needed tonight, needed to have Eddie to himself before everyone else stole it for a while. He wanted to be selfish for the first time in a very long time. He knew Robin would understand.

“Sure thing. But you’re gonna have to be quiet. You’re lucky none of them heard you crying.”

Steve nodded and curled back into Eddie, placing a kiss against his neck.

“Glad you’re back Eddie,” she said as she left.

“I need a shower,” Eddie said. “Think it’ll wake the kids?”

“Nah. They slept through a tree falling in the yard last month during a storm. Just need to be quick,” Steve pulled away to start grabbing what he’d need for a shower, but Eddie pulled him back on, running his nose along his neck and sending chills down his spine.

“You wanna join me?” He asked.

“Of course I do. But we won’t be quick if I join you,” Steve smiled.

A real smile. One he realized he hadn’t had on his face since spring break.

“You wanna wait in bed for me, then?” Eddie beamed back at him.

“Can I stay in here? I don’t-“ Steve sighed. “I don’t wanna leave you.”

Eddie’s smile softened into something endeared. “Yeah, sweetheart. You can stay. Talk to me. Tell me what I missed.”

Steve told him about everything he could while he showered away the Upside Down grime, watching his shadow behind the glass door of the shower to make sure it never disappeared.

They made sure the bedroom door was locked before crawling into bed together, Steve laying on top of Eddie like he always did before.

He was heavier, but Eddie never cared.

Steve slept so long, Eddie had no choice but to go downstairs in the morning so no one would wake him up.

The chaos that ensued was nothing short of overwhelming, but Eddie didn’t mind.

He was happy to back with all the kids, even if they asked incredibly inappropriate questions about his body to find out what he was.

When Steve finally came down, he was still half asleep and barely registered the open-mouth stares of everyone as he came up to Eddie and rested his head on his chest, wrapped his arms around his waist.

Eddie smiled down at him and kissed the top of his head.

“Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, baby.”

“Sunshine?!” Dustin yelled.

“Baby?!” Mike yelled louder.

“Make them go away,” Steve sighed against his neck.

“You don’t wanna explain?” Eddie asked him, half joking.

“Not today. Scare them or something.”

“You think Eddie can scare us? We’ve all almost died!” Lucas said.

“Fine. Eddie and I are together, have been forever. The tattoo on me is our initials. Get out of my house.”

The kids just stared at them in silence until Steve finally turned from Eddie and put his hands on his hips.

“I wasn’t asking. Get out.”

The kids scrambled to leave, making promises (threats) to come back soon.

Robin waved as she walked out with them, throwing them both a wink and knowing smile.

“So how long do you think we have until they come back?” Eddie asked, rocking them back and forth gently.

“Few hours maybe.”

“I can do a lot in a few hours,” Eddie nipped at Steve’s ear, making him shiver and laugh.

“You got super strength with your new life?” Steve grinned at him.

“I wouldn’t call it super, but I could definitely carry you back to bed.”

Steve jumped up and wrapped his legs around Eddie’s waist, arms around his neck.

“Carry me to bed, then, Eds.”

“Anything your heart desires, Stevie.”

[withahappyrefrain]

The 5 Times You Flirted With Bob + The 1 Time He Picked Up on It

Summary: You've fallen for your friend and have decided to drop some hints that you're flirting. Unfortunately, Bob doesn't realize that immediately.

Warnings: Language, no y/n, female reader, reader has a callsign (Honey)

Thank you to @dissonannce for this amazing idea. Thank you @acewritesfics for the dividers!

"Your hands are so big."

It took Bob a moment to register that you were in fact, talking to him.

"Oh! Um yeah. My ma made me do piano because she felt I was given the hands for them," Bob wiggled his fingers for extra effect, "Y'know, since they're so long."

Yes, they were quite long. It was one of the first things you noticed about Bob. Well, after you noticed his beautiful blue eyes, his endearing lopsided smile, the way he was so considerate of everyone else, so gentle, and yet there was an underlying confidence about him. He was sure of himself, but he didn't feel the need to brag.

Who could blame you for falling head over heels for him?

You flashed him a smile, hand reaching towards his.

"It's just, your hand is so much bigger than mine. See?" You propped his arm up, allowing your palm to press against his, both your fingers spread out to showcase the difference in size.

"See? My hand is so small compared to yours," You giggled. Bob looked down at your hands. Your breath hitched, your fingers twitching, dying to entwine with his.

"Yeah, there is quite a difference in size," Bob said, giving you that small smile you adored so much. That smile gave you the confidence to entwine your fingers with his.

"I think they fit pretty well together, see?" He wasn't letting go. He was still smiling as he looked down at your hand holding his.

Maybe this was finally it, he'd finally realized that you liked him and would-

"I'm gonna go get some more peanuts, can I get ya anything?"

You mustered up a smile, trying to cover up your disappointment, "I'll take a water. Thanks Robby."

As soon as he left, you shot Jake a dirty look, "Seresin, you said that shit would work!"

Jake, who had been pretending to play a game of pool with Bradley, Javy, and Mickey, put his hands up in defense, "Because it usually does! Everyone knows when a girl compares hand sizes it means she wants you!"

"Everyone but Bob apparently," Javy muttered.

"Maybe you just need to be more obvious?" Mickey suggested.

You sighed. You knew Bob. The last thing you wanted was to be so blunt it would overwhelm him. But at the same time, you two had been doing this whole 'friends but also more than that and I'm pretty sure we're flirting?' for the last month and you were getting annoyed with it how seemed to be going nowhere.

Perhaps Mickey was right. You were going to have to be a bit more obvious.

"Bee? You ready?" Bob called out from your living room. Bob's nickname of your callsign (Honey) always brought a smile to your face, as well as heat to your cheeks.

"Almost! Can I get your thoughts on this top?" You asked as you walked in.

"Yeah, I'm sure you look-oh." Bob's eyes widened as he took in the green top you were wearing.

It was tighter than the shirts you normally wore, highlighting your breasts. The fabric stopped right at the end of your rib cage, showing off your stomach and bringing attention to your high waisted jeans, which according to Jake "did wonders for your ass".

"What do you think?" You clasped your hands together, the action causing your breasts to stick out even further.

"Um the uh, the color is really great on you. B-brings out your eyes," Bob said, his eyes looking everywhere except you.

With the way his cheeks were bright red, it gave you confidence to step forward, your body now inches away from his, "I was hoping it would bring out something else besides my eyes Robby."

"I mean you you look great in everything you wear! So mission accomplished," Bob said quickly, his hands fidgeting with his car keys.

"Anything else you want to say about the outfit Robby? I really value your opinion." You stood on the tips of your toes, bringing your chest closer to Bob's face.

It was the first time since you walked in that his eyes landed on your chest. He cleared his throat, as if he was gathering up the courage to say it.

"You should grab a jacket, it's supposed to go down to the low sixties tonight," He said, turning around to head out the door.

God damn it.

You grabbed your phone, quickly texting the group.

Honey: We need to go to Plan C.

Rooster: Plan C?! You're saying the top didn't work?

Bagman: Dude, your tits were like out.

Rooster: Maybe they weren't out enough?

Coyote: If they were out any more, Honey would be getting a public indecency charge.

Phoenix: Maybe we shouldn't use clothes to express our feelings? Just a thought 🤦🏽

Fanboy: Yeah Nat, that's plan C.

Payback: Can we not blow up the group chat tonight? The finale of Insecure is on.

Your right leg bounced up and down in nervous anticipation, your eyes never leaving the entrance to the Hard Deck.

"You don't think this is too much, is it?" You asked your friends/coworkers.

"Nah, it'll be perfect!" Mickey reassured you.

"You and Bob are going to walk out of here holding hands by the end of the night, guarantee it," Jake commented as he lined up the balls for a round of pool.

It took all your strength not to jump out of your seat when you saw Bob walk in. His iridescent blue eyes scanned the room, landing on you. He always seemed to search for you, which had to be a sign that he wanted more, that he felt the same way as you did.

You greeted him with a smile, patting the empty seat next to him.

"Hey Robby! I got something for you!" You called out.

Bob just smiled as he sat down, "I see you got my signature: water and peanuts. Thanks Bee!"

You giggled, shaking your head, "Yes, but that's not just it. These are for you!"

Bob stared at the bouquet of flowers you were holding out for him.

"For me? These are for me?" He asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"Yes! I was just thinking, like why is giving guys flowers not a thing? Because it totally should be! And no one deserves these flowers more than you Robby," You explained, a hopeful smile adorning your face.

Bob gently took the bouquet, admiring each flower.

"I thought they would go well with your eyes-that's why a most of them are yellow," you explained, trying to hide how nervous you were.

"These are perfect," Bob said before leaning down to smell the flowers.

"Really? Each flower has a different meaning," you began, hoping that by fidgeting with your hands, you'd be able to conceal your nerves.

Bob simply smiled, his face the epitome of saccharine, "Oh, I already know."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

Bob nodded, "Oh yeah! Alstroemerias symbolize support, sunflowers are for loyalty, and violets stand for intuition!"

He wasn't wrong. You couldn't tell if you were upset by that or the fact that Mickey forgot flowers can have more than one meaning.

Time for Plan D.

"Hey Robby! You ready to watch hot people make poor decisions?"

"Ready as I'll ever-that's new," Bob said softly, taking in the new loungewear you had on for your biweekly Love Island watch.

"Oh this? I think I got it last week," you said as you let Bob into your apartment, "It's super comfy and it has pockets!"

It also was cut low, showing off your cleavage, as well as the tops of your thigh.

"Yeah, the uh, color looks really good on you Bee," Bob commented. The compliment brought a smile to your face. He noticed you, noticed you were wearing something new, and seemed to be noticing your now exposed skin.

"Well, let's go see if these folks gain any common sense," you grabbed his hand, practically beaming at how your hand fit perfectly in his.

"Somehow I doubt it," Bob chuckled.

When he offered to hold the popcorn for while you two watched, you weren't disappointed. Sure, it meant you weren't able to hold his hand. But it did mean you could move closer to him, your thighs practically touching.

"I really hope he doesn't take her back," Bob muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.

"He will. They always do," you sighed, gently moving your head so it rested against one of his broad shoulders.

If your action had any effect on Bob, he didn't show it. Which was the problem.

"I would pick you in the recoupling," You revealed, hoping that would be enough, would finally be enough.

Bob smiled, placing a hand on your knee, "That's kind of you Bee. But I think friendship couples go against the nature of the show."

It took everything in you not to scream.

The rest of the night was just a typical Love Island watch night, no touching, no initiating, no declarations of love, and ending with Bob giving you a friendly hug goodbye.

With a sigh, you flopped onto your bed to check your messages.

Bagman: Bee, please tell us it worked and you're marking sweet love to baby on board

Phoenix: you're disgusting Seresin.

Rooster: why would they stop fucking just to text you Bagman?

Bagman: so we can pop some champagne to celebrate

Fanboy: Why the fuck is would we do that?

Coyote: It's a big event! Bee told Bob how she feels AND Bob's getting laid!

Payback: Can I just get one night of peace? Just one night?

You: No one's doing anything bc it didn't work!

Rooster: Not trying to be rude, but weren't you like almost naked?

Bagman: Like 52% nude.

Phoenix: JFC, we're going to plan E folks.

Coyote: Is that when we just lock them in a closet?

Bagman: No that's plan G

"Hey Bee!"

The cheerful, charming voice always brought a smile to your face.

"Hi Robby!" You greeted him with a hug, the comforting scent of rosemary filling your nostrils, "You smell really nice."

"Oh um thanks," A hand flew to the back of Bob's neck, a nervous (and also adorable) habit, "Wanted to smell nice after doing all those pushups out in the sun."

"Well it worked, you smell great," One of your hands reached up to the nape of his neck, toying with the hair that had curled at the end, "Look great too."

The tops of Bob's cheeks were now a dusty pink, "It's just a white Tshirt."

You took a step forward, placing your hands on his chest, "It's a good look Robby. Shows off your muscles. I like it on you.

Bob's lips parted, then promptly closed.

"Uh, t-thanks Bee." He had to know now that you were flirting with him. It was clear as day.

Feeling confident, your hands trailed down to his, grasping them, "We should dance!"

You didn't wait for Bob to answer, dragging him out to the middle of the floor. The sounds of Bradley covering Frankie Valli (begrudgingly, as apparently Jerry Lee Lewis was better) filled the bar.

After a few minutes, Bob's shoulders visibly relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. You threw your head back laughing as he bust out a goofy dance move.

Everyone thought Bob was shy, but that wasn't the case. He was observant, determined to get a good read on someone so he knew how to approach the situation accordingly. Once he was comfortable, his personality shined and he was a sweet, goofy man who you adored with all your heart.

The grin you had was so wide, your cheeks were beginning to hurt. But you couldn't stop, not when he was twirling you around.

"Where did you learn to dance like that?" You asked, having to say it into his ear so he could hear your voice above the music.

Bob shrugged, "I come from a big family. When you know you're going to a lot of weddings, knowing how to dance helps. That and my mom made me do cotillion."

"Well, all that practice paid off. You're a great dance partner Robby." You rested your chin against his broad chest, looking up to meet eyes bluer than the ocean.

In that moment, all you could do was focus on him. The way the corner of his eyes creased when he truly smiled, his comforting scent, his pink, thin lips that you were dying to feel on yours.

You wondered if he could hear your heart pounding, if he could feel it since your body was practically on his.

His hands found their way to your arms, gently placing themselves on your biceps. Was this it? It had to be.

So you stood on the tips of your toes, your lips now closer to his. Your eyes began to close as you leaned in to-

"I gotta go. Jake stuck his foot in his mouth again."

This wasn't a lie. But it still didn't dull your disappointment. Nor did it sedate your growing frustration at this whole situation.

Perhaps you didn't need Plan G or H Perhaps it was time to go with your original plan.

The next time you saw Bob was when Nat threw a small get together to celebrate the end of a long week.

He was wearing that damn white Tshirt again. Whenever he brought his cup of water to his mouth, the fabric stretched across his bicep.

Was he doing this on purpose? Did he know? Consciously or not, that you had fallen for him ever since you two first met at training?

Either way, you were tired of this game you had been playing for the past month.

"Are you sure about this?" Natasha asked.

You simply nodded before taking a shot of vodka. A little liquid courage was always nice.

"Nat, he's oblivious. Honestly, I don't know why we didn't do this the first time," Jake commented as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Because we didn't expect him to be that oblivious," Mickey countered.

"Well everyone, wish me luck." You walked out of the kitchen to find Bob still sitting on the couch, glass of water in hand.

His eyes met yours and he gave you a smile sweeter than honey. Your legs began to wobble, whether it was from that smile or your nerves, you couldn't say.

You walked over, making a beeline for him. Bob's eyes widened, his fingers gripping his cup. Your gaze was so intense.

"Hey Bee-oh!" Bob froze as you sat down in his lap, your thighs straddling his lithe hips.

"Hey Robby," your hands found his shoulders, fingers toying with the thin cotton fabric of his shirt.

"Uh Bee, there's um, there's a seat right there," Bob weakly pointed to the empty space next to him.

"I don't want that," you leaned forward, your forehead grazing his, "I want you Robby."

His eyes widened once more, as if he just saw an incoming train, "M-me?"

"Yes. Wanted you ever since that first day of training, when you offered me a mint," you told him.

"I uh, you looked sleepy and mint is known to wake you up and," Bob paused, "Did you say since the first day of training?"

You nodded, smiling at how you were able to see him process this information.

"The first day of training?" He repeated.

"Yes Bob, all you did was offer me a mint and smile to make me fall head over heels for ya," your fingers now went up to the back of his neck, twirling the curled ends of his hair, "Been trying to tell you that for the last month."

Bob opened his mouth, then promptly closed it, his brain still processing everything.

"You good Rob-" You never got to finish your sentence, as Bob decided right then was the best time to press his lips against yours.

His lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla, no doubt from the chapstick you watched him reapply. His touch was gentle, his thick fingers ghosting over your thighs, trailing up to your waist. Every move, no matter how small, made your heart fluttered.

Being so close to him, you could smell his aftershave, a mix of eucalyptus and sage. It was intoxicating and you wanted to be surrounded by it all the time, wanted to kiss him all the time.

When he broke away for air, you had to hold back a whimper, your lips desperate for more.

"FINALLY!"

You turned your head to find Bradley, along with Mickey, Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Reuben standing by the doorframe, in perfect view of you and Bob.

You smiled and opened your mouth, ready to make a quick remark. But Bob's fingers hooked underneath your chin, turning your head back to meet his lips again.

Unlike the first kiss, this one was bolder. His lips moved against yours with more confidence. Your whole body felt warm, as if you were floating. His hands now cupped your jawline, which is how you learned that Bob's hands practically covered your whole neck, a discovery that sent you reeling.

Your hands trailed up to his head, desperate to feel his sun kissed locks, desperate to find out if they were as soft as they looked. But just before you could, Bob broke away.

"What?" Anxiety came rushing back, dragging you away from Cloud Nine, your previous location. Did he regret it?

"Let's go."

He moved your body to the empty space on the couch, quickly getting up. You took his hands, allowing him to help you get up. You held onto one hand as he led you to the front door.

"Bob! What are you doing with my backseater?" Javy called out.

"Making up for lost time!"

Maybe you should be a little embarrassed. But how could you? You had finally kissed the man of your dreams, he kissed you back. He wanted to leave with you.

The sounds of the house party fainted, becoming soft background noise as you went outside.

Bob stopped, turning around to face you. Before you could get out a sound, his lips were on you again. His hands pulled your body to his, closing the gap in-between.

You couldn't help but moan when you felt his tongue slide against your bottom lip, immediately granting him entrance. You could hear Bob's breath hitch, his hands roaming across your body, touching your soft skin.

Abruptly, he pulled away, leaving you desperate for more.

"Why do you keep doing that?!"

"I...." His face was flushed, "I meant to ask you if if you drove yourself here. But you looked so kissable. You still do, God I just wanna kiss you again."

"I'm not stopping you Robby," you grinned, stepping towards him, "I'm not stopping you at all."

"Oh don't tell me that darlin'" his Midwestern upbringing laced his words. You always loved his accent, having found it not just unique but also comforting.

Somehow, despite his lips pressed against yours, Bob was able to walk you back to his car, your back meeting the cool metal.

His broad body draped over yours, his tongue frantically exploring your mouth. Your fingers reached up, grasping his hair. It was soft and much thicker than you expected.

What else was there about Bob you had yet to learn? What kind of toothpaste he used, if he drank tea or coffee in the morning. Did he fall asleep to rain sounds or silence? How many pillows were on his bed?

You wanted to know everything.

But right now, you just wanted to kiss Bob.

Your fingers tugged on his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. Despite his chest being pressed against yours, it wasn't enough. You wanted all of him.

"We should get in the car," He said, voice breathless. With the way his chest was rising, one would think he had just ran ten miles.

Bob began moving towards the driver's side of his truck, but he stopped, turning back to you.

"I want to take you home," He stated. It sounded like a confession with the way guilt laced his eyes.

"I would love that Robby."

Instead, he just shook his head, "But I shouldn't because you deserve more than that. You deserve a nice date, like that Italian restaurant we always pass when we go to Bradley's. You deserve that and flowers and a lovely dinner with candles and wine that's older than both of us-"

You cut him off by gently pecking his lips, "It's okay Bob. You could take me to that diner up the room from your place tomorrow morning and I'd be elated because I would be with you."

He shook his head, clearly torn between continuing to talk and continuing to kiss you, "But....it's the least I should do. I mean, after all the hints you were dropping. I thought you were just being friendly and-"

"What friend asks another friend to look at their chest?" You asked incredulously.

"I thought maybe we were just really close! That you were really comfortable around me, which is why I didn't think anything regarding what you wore when we watched Love Island. I mean," his face reddened, "I did think about it. Um I thought about it a lot and if you ever want to wear it again, I would not mind-"

"Bob," you stepped forward, placing your hands on his chest.

"I mean, you got me Violets! Those mean loyalty and devotion, as well as delicate love! And believe me I wanted to kiss you at the Hard Deck, but that is entirely Jake's fault-"

"As most things are."

"And looking back it was so obvious and I can't believe I didn't pick up on it," He paused, "Sorry, I I had to get that out. I can take you home or back to my place, whatever you want."

You giggled, delighted by his ramblings. You wanted to hear more of it.

"And now I just want to kiss you. Like all the time," He confessed, his lips moving closer to yours.

"Robby, get in the car," you instructed.

"Oh, um, okay," Bob unlocked his car, moving towards the driver seat.

"No Bob. Get in the back of the car," you instructed.

Bob's brows knitted together in confusion, "But then how will I drive-oh!"

Who knows if you were going to make it back to his place or yours. All you cared about was getting your lips and hands back on Bob Floyd.

[andersonfilms]

i think some skin to skin with cowgirl abby could and would fix me :P

❝ IM IN LOVE WITH YOU ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON!

an. nonnie, thank you for the request. it's more angst than i planned so i hope that's okay! i also wanna credit the cuntress queen @astralnymphh for this concept. so, so good. y'all need to check it out asap.

Since she could feel it, from very early on, she’s liked women and never enjoyed the company of men other than to have an occasional beer with. Most of the girls around her worried about settling down, finding a perfect man, one who is respectable, stable, loving. Pleasing the wishes of their parents who are ever so demanding with a downpour of insured judgements. 

It’s all left to be found here, the bellows from a man and a woman living unhappily together, telling others how to live their life. Yet, Abby from a young age yearns for someone else, the piece she believes is missin’. 

The sought after, happily ever after. 

Not a soul she had met for her bill so she keeps her head down. Late night escapades are tight lipped, hidden from spectator’s eyes, ones they would throw slurs her way without a second thought if they knew. Just like they had when she hadn’t kept it a secret.

 Sometimes, it burns. Other times when she was buried in between a woman’s thighs as they cried for mercy in her ear, it didn’t. 

Underneath the midnight sky, her fingertips dance on the white wood — the one she shouldn’t be stepping her boots back on. 

Despite how she tells herself, this will be the last time, it never really is. It’s a quiet night in the small town tucked away in a small town in South Texas, the stars shine bright in the countryside, moonlight shining brighter than it has all month long. 

Abby steps up to your front porch, the pearly white picket fence, the home your dad built with his two bare hands and a dream. When she’s met with your shining smile, the doubt is evident, barely visible but it’s there. 

Is this what you want? Or were you just too kind of a woman to say no? 

Nothing is said between the two of you as you pull her into your home, a senseless wonder swirls in your eyes, getting lost in impenetrable blues. Maybe, it’s what pulls you in and keeps you there like the failed dreams in a dying town. Perhaps it’s when you dream of the sound of her voice at night when she decides not to come, leaving you alone to think of not a single thing but her. 

Once the door closes, it’s just the two of you. Abby’s musk is overwhelming, she tends to be, but you seem to welcome it with open arms. There's a pot roast you made for her, devouring it silently at the round dining room table, her muscular thigh touching yours, reminding you of the feelings which never seem to wither. 

Her brown, weathered stetson hat sits on the empty chair, her fingertips picking at the frayed edge, the nagging thought in her brain shouts at her to say something, anything, but you beat her to it. 

“You don’t have to stay, Abby. You’ve got an early morning, so do I.” You pick up the emptied plates, washing them at the sink when you feel strong, protective, arms wrap around your waist, her chin resting against your shoulder. 

“Why are you putting words in my mouth, darling?” Pink lips decorate deliberate kisses along the side of your neck, “I’m right where I wanna be. M’here with you, not going anywhere.” 

With her pointer finger, she tilts your head to her, dominant lips catching hers, Abby’s hold keeping you in place as she reminds you of what it feels like to be held by the person you call home. The quivering feeling shoots a shiver up your spine, her hands don’t stop moving as they caress your body. 

“C’mon now, you need some sleep.” Her southern drawl is strong as ever as she leads you up the stairs into your bedroom. “S’late, can’t have you not gettin’ sleep because of little ‘ole me.” 

You know what she wants and you know you’ll do it too. 

Anything for her. Right? 

A freshly showered Abby emerges as naked as the day she was born. Porcelain skin tanned by the radiance of the sun from a hard day’s work, a constellation of freckles cover her body. There’s an abundance collecting at her shoulders, across her collarbones as they dust her strong nose and spread across perfectly sculpted cheeks. 

The time you have with each other is few and far in between, occupied by the responsibilities of managing a ranch with her father commands most of the hours of the day, keeping her effectively away from you.

Plus, the feeling swarming in her heart she refuses to see yet she’s here a few times a week, wanting this. If Abby wants more, she’s good at hiding it, but the thought alone is dangerous. You can allow yourself to want more, not when she gives you nothing in return. 

“Are you gonna come over here, gorgeous?” She slides in between your legs, some of her weight soothingly collapses onto you. “Patience darling, m’right here, not going anywhere.” 

With a sigh of content, she grabs you by the waist as she pulls you on top of her with ease. Abby’s golden waves kiss your face as she hides her face in the crook of her neck. Meticulously, the blunt of her fingertips draw patterns on your skin, playing with the hem on your lace undergarment, the only piece of clothing left in your body. 

“You will go somewhere. In the morning, you’ll leave without saying goodbye. Jus’ like you do after every night.” Abby tightens her hold, thinking if she keeps you close you won't slip through but truth be told? She’d be the first to drop you, even if it wasn't her intention. 

“Sorry, m’not strong like you.” 

“I think you’re a lot stronger than you think, y’know?” Her lips find yours as her skin smothers you in the body wash she keeps in the cabinet. Soft breasts melt against her own, calming her in a way Abby can’t quite comprehend. 

This was more than just sex. If that’s all this was, she would be the nearest bar picking up the closeted women who fawn over her before she even steps her foot in the front door. The most sought after woman in town, yet it’s her tongue in your mouth, claiming in a way words fail her. 

“Abby—” The moan vibrates through her, she falls into the sensation of your heavenly skin, smooth against her calloused hands. Every inch of your body feels golden to her. It’s what she craves, the intimacy without having to be, so good, a delicate sigh leaves her puffy lips. “I—” 

With a loving look in her wondrous pools of deep sea blues, with a hint of gray stowed away beneath the light, she inquires for you to continue as she looks up at you. 

Your hands gently touch her face, thumb lovingly soothing over the apples of her cheeks and the scar decorating one of them. There’s nothing she despises more than it, makes her look far too damaged, but you’ve always thought it makes her the person she is. 

Strong, loving, imperfectly perfect. 

The first time you did it, she flinched as she gripped your wrist, pulling your fingers away from marking. Now, she closes her eyes and lets you. 

“When can I tell you without you running? When are you gonna stay?” Abby wants to tell you, say it. I won’t leave. I’ll always be here, right with you, forever. 

She doesn’t. She can’t. 

The words die on her tongue, the three little ones she feels but can’t let through. The past hurts haunt her as it disgusts itself as a never ending hangover which she holds it against you. It’s not meant to be cruel, it certainly isn’t fair, but it’s all she can do until time heals the festering wound. 

“I don’t have an answer for you—” Her blue eyes open, her lips ghosting over your again. “But, this, you? It’s just you and me. No one else, darling.” 

For now, it’s enough, but Abby stresses over the day where you’ve had enough cursing at the wind and whatever god sits above. 

One day, somewhere in the near future, she won’t be.

taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @nybueckers @tlouloser

wanna be tagged?

[iichfilwypj]

she's the one | percy jackson

ღ percy jackson x daughter of hypnos! reader ღ warnings: panic attack! i wanted this to be different but i got one while writing it, so so sorry! i will post the others ideas i had though. ღ wc: 608 pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - pt 5 - pt 6 - pt 7 - pt 8

“Can we please go inside? I’m starting to feel like part of the door.” Percy murmured, leaning against the doorframe of his house. His friend paced anxiously around the empty hallway and he couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh, feeling a mix of concern and impatience for her. “We’ve been out here for ten minutes. The sooner we go inside, the sooner you’ll stop feeling-”

“'I'm dying, please” she exclaimed, a note of panic creeping into her voice. Percy watched her friend come to a sudden stop, clutching her chest tightly like she wanted to stop her heart from racing. “Please, I just need a second-”

“Dreamy?” his voice was almost a whisper. Thinking about her having a panic attack overwhelmed him. No, he couldn’t let her go through that. He found himself looking at her a bit longer than usual –easy work– to make sure he was wrong.

“I just… need a second,” she repeated, her breath faster than usual. Percy could feel the tension in the air.

He stepped closer and took her wrists tightly, trying to get her to stop pressing her chest so hard. “Stop doing that, we don't want a broken rib. Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise you”

“I don’t know why I’m so worried,” luckily, her breathing slowed down under his touch and she let out a frustrated laugh “she must be just like you.”

It was evident that sleep was taking over her, no matter how much she tried to fight it –after all, it wouldn’t make a good impression on Sally to find her son’s friend asleep at her door.

It was so hard not to, though. Percy radiated a warmth that melted her defenses. The urge to sleep hit her hard whenever she was near him. And she felt so bad about it; what kind of person was always tired around their friend? Beth's words echoed in her ears, loud and clear: ‘The more comfortable we feel with someone, the sleepier we get.’ She hadn't understood it the first time. Nor had she really tried to.

But right there, everything clicked into place. She felt secure. She felt at peace. She felt safe. With her head resting on Percy’s chest and his hands holding her, she felt at home.

He hugged her properly, and she didn’t have the strength to return the embrace; but a soft smile spread across her face as she nestled against his jacket. She let herself be vulnerable, surrendering to the solace he offered.

“Should I take that as a compliment or not? I‘m kinda worried here.” maybe it was a bit selfish, but he couldn't help it; he needed to know what she truly thought of him. The girl’s body felt heavier in his arms, and he was almost fully supporting her full weight.

A bad thing? she thought, how could that be a bad thing? In a world fulled with chaos, he was her safe haven, the one who brought her calm.

"I wish everyone would be like you." she murmured, and with those words, she fell into a deep sleep, her body relaxing completely against him. Percy was left speechless holding her tightly, not able to process what had just happened. 

The front door finally opened, revealing Sally with Estelle asleep in her arms. Her face lit up at the sight in front of her. When her eyes met his son’s, he showed no signs of embarrassment at being caught in such a position. Instead, he grinned widely, mouthing a silent ‘It's her,’ in her direction. ‘She's the one’.

well hello! as i said, this didn't go as planned BUT i think we can see more of her feelings now! we're getting closer to something! let me know if you like it!!!!!!!!! also i PROMISE i will try not to make her so anxious next time, it's just that i have anxiety and i can't help but wirite from my perspective; but i will work on that!

[roseykat]

TITLE: How they are when they cum

SYNOPSIS: OT8 version of...the title x

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions/descriptions of orgasms, blowjobs, sex positions. Nothing too major.

A/N: Take this as a filler while I wrap up my post for Shutterfly Butterfly. I actually really enjoyed creating these blurbs and will do more in the future.

BANG CHAN

Groans and grunts. He’s pretty vocal in bed and on the very strong occasion where he cums as hard as he always does, he’ll announce it, and it’s the hottest thing ever. There’s nothing sexier than a man expressing how much pleasure they’re in through such an erotic thing. Usually his moans and incoherent words sound so panicked before he combusts inside of you, like he’s dying to cum but doesn’t want to yet so as to savour your warm, wet, heat wrapping around his cock. 

-

MINHO

Is gripping onto you when he cums. Whether it’s by digging his nails into the skin and flesh of your hips or ass, grabbing a fistful of your hair, groping your tits - he needs something to help him channel such a surge of pleasure when he orgasms. His moans are very breathy and very consistent. He won’t always announce that he’ll cum but you can tell when he does. If it’s not the warm load inside of you, it’ll be the silence he exudes that will give it away. For some reason, that’s how you can identify how hard he’s actually cumming. 

-

CHANGBIN

Will not shut up, and you don’t want him to either. Every ounce of pleasure he gets from fucking you, sends him into another realm. But when he cums? A whole other level. The pleasure is out of his depth that it rattles throughout every cell in his body. His eyes will flutter, mouth slightly ajar for your name to spill out. When he cums, he also has the tendency to bury his face into your neck, depending on the position. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he just doesn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming waves of euphoria. 

-

HYUNJIN

He will moan your name repeatedly and it’ll be in the most beautiful airy voice known to this earth. Sometimes he can be quiet but not intentionally. He’s just trying his best not to cum so quickly and feels that hearing his own moans mixed with yours will get him there faster when he actually wants to drag out how good he feels for as long as he can. He’ll mutter quietly to you against your lips that he’s ‘gonna cum’ and when he does, his forehead might rest on yours or he’s kissing you as he’s cumming, and he’s all flustered and rushed. 

-

HAN

Whiny. Whiny as fuck and whimpers. He tries to stifle his moans with the back of his hand or maybe he’ll be biting down on your shoulder or something. But when you have both of his hands cuffed or pinned by the sides of his head when you ride him, he is the loudest, whiniest person in existence. You’ve even thought about gagging him, especially before he cums at least. He’s so prone to being overstimulated a lot and has most definitely cried before when you’ve made him orgasm. 

-

FELIX

Will most likely say to you “gonna make me cum,” every time the two of you have sex or you’re giving him head, right before he orgasms. He wants you to know that you’re the one unraveling his sanity for a good thirty seconds. Felix is vocal, loud, and almost borderline whiny. Despite having such a deep voice, his whimpers can be the complete opposite. It’s just a sign that he’s struggling to deal with so much pleasure that his body can possibly handle. 

-

SEUNGMIN

Sometimes he might hold his breath when he cums because he is just in so much of a state of pleasure, his body doesn’t know how to react. Therefore, you might not always get sounds out of him - which is good because that’s how you know he’s cumming hard. If you’re perhaps giving him a blowjob, his head will tip back, voice lodged in his throat until he’s spilling white wherever you’ll let him. But in the few seconds after he cums, Seungmin is either swearing or moaning as well; most of the time, both.

-

JEONGIN

Similar to most; moans a lot to a T. He can get sort of embarrassed by it even though you reassure him that it’s okay to express how good you feel in the moment, especially after you told him how much you like it. From there he’s become a bit more relaxed and now he won’t hold back. They’re sort of high pitched, but low and strained in some cases when he’s absolutely railing you. Will also breathe out “baby” over and over again as he approaches the edge of his orgasm.

[louvaine]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader synopsis: sacred midnight moments spent with the love of your life, mulling over the doubts that are beginning to drive you insane.

“Are you awake?”

It’s whispered words in the dead of night while the rest of the world rests, the moon illuminating the dark skies above. A sliver of light creeps in through the condensation  on the window, dancing along the rumpled sheets strewn over a tangled mess of limbs. It’s in the slow breath of Aaron as he leans over you, forehead pressed down to rest against your bare shoulder, the warmth of his breath dancing flames across your skin.

“I used to think that nothing could break us.”

His hand finds yours, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. It’s intimate, soft even, something sacred in the world of blood, murder, and undeniable tragedy. He presses another feather-light kiss against your skin, moving upwards slightly so that his hair is brushing against your jawline, his scent overwhelming you. His touch makes the room warmer somehow, and your future within its walls seems a little less bleak with every passing moment that you’re wrapped up in him.

“I was naive, Aaron.”

“Don’t──”

“How can this life not? How can it not break you?”

He sighs, closing his eyes. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Maybe,” you placate, then add, “for now.”

His gaze is piercing as he reaches across, pulling you into his chest. His arm wraps around your waist, and despite the heaviness in your stomach, it flutters at the sensation of his body pressed up against yours. Almost like the first time you saw him propped up against the back wall of the bar your friends had dragged you to, watching you move in time with the low, intoxicating music: a siren calling out to prey. He fell for you, hook, line and sinker just as much as you fell for him.

“I can take care of myself.”

A flash of jarring memories fuels your anxiety──

Aaron in the hospital, his skin gaunt and body lifeless under harsh, fluorescent lighting. Aaron, bloody and bruised, knuckles cut and sliced open as he tells tales of defending himself and his team. There’s so many moments that flicker through your mind, so many instances where it’s tortured your heart, seeing him hurt and broken, waiting for you to patch him up, softening his barbed edges.

“Not always,” you say, voice barely a whisper.

“I’ll always protect you and our family. Whatever it takes.”

It’s a promise he’ll keep until his last dying breath; a promise that’ll take him to the grave. But it’s also the promise that’s likely to get himself killed if it meant saving you. Aaron is the stoic Unit Chief, cold and heartless, keeping all his emotions close to his chest except for when it comes to his family. That’s the only time he’ll break every single rule to keep you safe, to protect you.

“Don’t you know that’s what I’m worried about?”

He smiles sadly, thumb brushing your lips. “Is that what’s keeping you up?”

“I always worry about you. It comes with the territory of loving you.”

Aaron hums in response, rolling over quickly so that he’s on top of you, his weight pressing you down further into the bed. He looks serious for a moment, the humour no longer visible against the darkness of his eyes as he leans down, pressing his lips against yours. It’s not a kiss that’s fuelled by intense desire or lust, it’s not filled with passion, it’s not rushed or messy, it’s just this: a kiss that barely lasts a minute, but is somehow enough for you to sink into. It overwhelms you: how soft he is when it’s just the two of you falling in love all over again with only the moon as a witness.

It feels a bit like coming home; comfortable; safe.

“I’ve got people watching my back,” he replies when he pulls back, his forehead resting gently against yours. “We’re a family. Nothing will change that.”

“Aaron──”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

It’s empty promises at best but you can tell Aaron doesn’t want to continue this conversation. He adjusts his body against you, running a hand through his unkempt hair. He glances up at the window, the light hitting his face in a way that only seems to emphasise his boyish features and it looks like the weight of the future has finally been lifted off his shoulders by the sheer strength of the moonlight. It’s a moment where you can see the warmth back in his eyes, his genuine smile erasing the sunken years he’d taken on in the last few months, and it’s as if he’s never been as happy as he is right now.

He looks content, almost.

It feels surreal.

Jack coughs, the sound echoing through the dark house, shattering the suspended moment where the world had dwindled down to just the two of you. He’s the wake-up call to reality, a constant reminder of the struggle that’s still ahead as Aaron tries to balance his commitment to the BAU and his commitment to his family. Sometimes his obligation to his job outweighs his responsibility to you, and the arguments in the aftermath leave you feeling hollow. But for every disagreement, every missed date night, every fight, it only serves to fuel your determination to fight harder because you’re not sure you can survive the fallout if this fragile thing between you breaks, and you don’t want to lose him.

“I love you.”

His lips twitch upwards. “I know.”

He leans over the side of the bed, grabbing some clothes to throw on before he goes to check on Jack, the crisp chill of the house ensuring that he doesn’t walk around half naked, much to your disappointment. He smiles fondly back at you, the sight of you wrapped up in his bed igniting a familiar warmth in his chest. He likes to think he’ll have you forever. He reminds himself that you’re not something he’ll ever give up without a fight, a promise he made to himself on the day you’d first said you loved him. 

He knows that you’d never let him leave without one either.

“Don’t be long,” you murmur, adding, “I’ve missed you.”

Between the endless cases, keeping his team in line, and his own demons that he’s still learning to live with, he rarely sees you anymore. This is the first time in a week that he’s spent longer than an hour in your presence. He watches you stretch your body out, rolling into the abandoned warmth of his side of the bed, like seeking him out has become one of your basic human instincts. He watches you for a moment, allowing his guard to drop long enough to treasure this singular moment with you.

It tugs at his aching heart; he knew you felt lonely.

But not to the extent where you’d willingly admit it to him.

“I’ve missed you too,” his voice is soft, gentle.

He thinks about the last week where you’d settled for salvaging a spare moment in the brief spaces in his busy schedule, sneaking around like teenagers, hiding in the shadows with Aaron’s lips on your neck. He’s kissed you a thousand times, pressing you up against the wall, stolen fragments in his office with the blinds drawn shut, away from prying eyes.

He’d wanted to apologise for it; to make up for it somehow. 

Except for you, there’s nothing to forgive him for.

He smiles to himself, saying, “I love you.”

A pause, and then, “I know.”

He stumbles at the open tenderness in your voice, back at your side within a second so he can lean down long enough to press a kiss against your temple. He only lingers for a moment, but there’s a faint curve to his lips as he’s leaving the room, knowing that he’ll be back in your arms before he knows it.

[kaveehs]

Sweetener — Gojo Satoru

fem!reader, wc 0.8k, fluff, established relationship, workaholic!gojo, first years make a cameo <3

synopsis: gojo had always liked sweet things, you were no exception

a/n: i’ve been so busy lately but i finally finished this piece!!! recently i’ve been missing gojo so much so i had so much fun with this <333

requested by: @the-weeping-author

Gojo Satoru undoubtedly had a sweet tooth.

Sure, he had a variety of pastries and candies at his disposal that he could use to curb his insatiable need for sweetness in his life, but they all paled in comparison to you. From the moment Satoru first met you, he could tell something was fairly different about you.

At a first glance, he could tell you were a bit apprehensive of him. This was nothing new, after all he carried such an intimidating title attached to him since he was young. Despite it all, you always greeted him with a smile and such warm words. There was no doubt that you were a kind girl at heart, but there was so much more to it than that to him. Your compassionate nature didn’t come with a catch, nor did it waiver the closer you and him became, it only strengthened his feelings towards you.

You always thought he had been exaggerating when he had expressed how just you alone could calm his overwhelming sweet tooth when your relationship with him first began, but he truly meant every word of it, no matter how dramatic it sounded.

“Honey!” Satoru called out to you, snapping you out of your thoughts. Of course it was only natural for him to call you something so sweet you couldn’t help but smile. “I didn’t expect you to be back so soon, let alone spare time to visit me at work, how was it?” Before coming to his office, you had been scoping out a new bakery he had been dying to go to, but couldn’t due to being constantly cooped up at work.

“Great, I brought back some things I thought you might like,” you answered, handing him the small box of pastries you’d saved for him. He pulled back half of his blindfold, happily accepting the box into his hands which had been much larger than the pastry box. Just as he flipped open the lid, he noticed a shift in your expression.

“What’s with the sad face, sweetheart? You wanna try some too? You know I don’t mind sharin’,” he teased. His comment caught you somewhat by surprise— you didn’t even notice the change in your face.

“No, it’s not that,” you slightly bit the lower corner of your lip. “I just wish we could’ve gone together. You’ve been workin’ so much, y’know?”

Satoru paused for a moment, placing the treats on his desk as he got up from the comfort of his office chair. “I know baby,” he uttered sympathetically as his arms engulfed your body. “‘M sorry,” he said as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “When I have free time, I promise I’ll take you on the best trip ‘n you’ll have my full attention.”

“You mean it,” your eyes glistened with excitement at his words. A full trip where you could simply enjoy each other’s company, the thought alone was lovely.

“Y’know I don’t like to make promises I can’t honor,” a grin found its way to his face. “Of course I mean it.”

As you subconsciously squeezed him tighter, pulling him closer for a soft kiss, you heard the sound of snickers just as your lips were about to connect… his first year students. You pulled away from him, despite the small pout on his face.

“Before we get to that, I gotta assign my students here, more work. Clearly they seem to have a bunch of time to kill,” he spoke in a sarcastic yet matter-of-fact manner, laughing at their pleads for mercy. “Utahime’s been houndin’ me about your academic performance anyway. Perfect timing if you ask me.”

“Come on ‘Toru, go easy on them,” you remarked while trying to contain your own laughter.

“…Maybe I’ll let the assignments slide for today.”

“And just like that, he folds,” Itadori blinked, in awe at how quick he was to change his decision because of your interjection.

“It’s almost impressive how much control she has over someone like Gojo,” Nobara chimed in. Megumi shook his head.

“It’s nothing like that,” he sighed as if he knew all too well the truth of his mentor’s nature. “He’s just soft. Always has been.”

“Now now,” Gojo cleared his throat, it was telling he had been a bit embarrassed by the back and forth banter of his students. “Maybe I should switch things up a little bit— and teach you all a small life lesson.” This promise of a new lesson seemed to pique the interests of Nobara and Itadori. “When you find the love of your life—” he began as he looked over to you, however his speech was cut off by the simultaneous groans of his students.

“How informative,” you joked, followed by such a genuine laugh that spread to him so easily. Though you did learn something new with his eight words— that he saw you as the love of his life.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad to be Gojo Satoru’s sweetener afterall.

[lexirosewrites]

This is for Slick Sunday!!!

So. I was watching this voice over of some random Tumblr post about how Vampires are to carpenters what furries are for artists(allegedly), bc they can make the ideal coffin for each individual and things like that, and like??? I got inspired. So this is what I have:

Totally established ABO situation, where Steve is an unusual Omega, simply for the fact that after his family disowned him he became a carpenter and if being a jock had given him some muscles, being a carpenter made him ripped.

But no one wants an Omega like that, no matter how sweet he is whether in scent or personality, it also doesn't help that Steve has a shit taste in Alphas.

Anyways, enter Eddie, a Vampire (whether he has a designation and/or what it is up in the air (although I prefer him as an Alpha)) who's looking for a new coffin for his Uncle Wayne, an incredibly old vampire (probably a beta) who met him when he was young and adopted Eddie before turning him at the age of 25 (Eddie was dying, and there wasn't a cure for him yet, but that was Wayne's kid, he couldn't let him die so young), because his Uncle's coffin is like, old, Eddie asked and the thing is a certified antique, it's at least a 100 years old and almost falling apart no matter how much care Wayne puts into it.

So Eddie finds out about this carpenter, the guy has never worked for vampires before, but Robin (a local witch and another Omega) recommended him so strongly Eddie agreed to check him out.

Eddie gets immediately infatuated with Steve, the guy is handsome, with a sweet personality, and a body Eddie just wants to sink his teeth into...

So they get talking about the request, and it ends up being a long collaboration, since Eddie didn't actually go prepared for the appointment, so he keeps visiting Steve to make adjustments to the coffin's design and stuff like that.

And if he also uses that time to get to know Steve better and maybe flirt a little? It's nobody's business.

(and maybe Steve also answers sometimes, with

So anyways, Steve finishes the task and is sad he won't see Eddie again, won't get to bask into his amazingly comforting scent again, thinking that the guy probably will leave him behind like so many other commissioners before him who came by, sweet talked him, that even got him into bed one time, and then left once their product was finished, only to never return.

So When Eddie comes to pick up the finished coffin he finds an incredibly sad Omega , and of course he immediately asks what's wrong, does Steve feel bad, should he call Robin? But Steve is so overwhelmed by this simple show of care that he confesses on the spot.

And Eddie is obviously overjoyed by this, corresponding to Steve in that exact moment, zero doubts in his mind that he'll be with Steve for as long as Steve wants him.

Plus: Steve finds out a week into dating that Eddie is a vampire and is very offended that his boyfriend (soon to be mate) tried to hide something so important from him, meanwhile Eddie is like "Babe. Baby. Sweetheart. I literally asked for a bed coffin, I told you my uncle was more than a hundred years old, I once got into your workshop fully bloodstained, fangs out, because I was running late and my last feeding was rough"

"I thought that was paint from those minis you told me you were working on!"

And then they recreate the twilight meme for the funsies.

(and maybe a long time from now they'll be mates, and Steve will turn into a vampire after being Eddie's part-time bloodbag for years, and they'll have a coven full of kids, some theirs, some adopted, but all of them wholly loved and cherished)

And that's all I have in me rn, I really hope you enjoy Lexi, happy day!

(also, fun fact, halfway through writing this I got so distracted by the romance that I forgot about the ABO part of things, and then I tried to revise it, but I'm not sure I did a good job, this could probably be way more abo than it is, lmaoo)

hehe monsterfucker steve is very dear to me, especially when he’s an omega and willing to submit to an alpha as their prey in more way than one💕

[e-dubbc11]

HAPPY ALMOST BIRTHDAYYYYYY!!!! 🎉🎉🎉 And just for that, I have a special ask for you 😌

"it's almost over...i'm right here."

+

"say something, just fucking say something"

For this one:

Listen, idk why...but you always bring out the angst in me. Don't worry, I'll try to limit the angst since its your birth month~ 😂

Thank you for the birthday wishes, my darling friend! I know how much you love the angst and I hope I did justice to your ask. Thank you so much for your friendship, your support for my little blog and for reading my fics. You’ll never know how much I appreciate it ♥️♥️♥️😘😘😘

She Is My Life

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: Angst, violence, guns, GSW, maybe a couple swear words, tears, smooches

Word Count: 2K-ish

Summary: A night out to dinner with your love turns dark and violent. Billy does his best to protect you from getting hurt and later, wrestles with the fact that he nearly got you killed.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It was supposed to be a romantic night out.

It was the first time in a long time Billy hadn’t had to work around the clock, protecting a witness that was set to testify against the mob, and you’ve missed him terribly.

Looking into his dark brown eyes that looked like two wells of black ink and seeing his perfect smile after so long had you wanting nothing more than to melt into his embrace, squeeze him tight, and never ever let him go.

You loved him and no sooner did your wine glasses chime in unison as they gently tapped against each other that you heard the first bullet pop, shattering those glasses and dumping red wine all over the crisp white tablecloth.

Instinctively, you dropped the glass and dove under the table just as Billy yelled at you to get down. You felt like your heart had stopped, your breath was caught in your lungs, and the sounds of those bullets hit you like a slap across the face.

The scent of burning candles wafted through the air as you tried to remember how to breathe while remaining frozen in place, too petrified to move. The noise that echoed in your ears was overwhelming, almost shocking, and very different than being at the range where Billy taught you to shoot. The various pops and booms were expected at the range but not in an Italian restaurant where you were supposed to be enjoying your dinner.

Staying put wasn’t going to help Billy and he needed your help whether he wanted you to help or not. He desperately tried to protect you while trying to get rounds off. He threw himself between you and the hailstorm of bullets before pushing you behind the bar.

With your weapon in hand, you knew you were supposed to aim for center mass, that’s what he taught you to do but you couldn’t risk giving them a chance to aim for your center mass.

Shooting them in the Achilles was the best you could do. Peeking around the corner of the bar, the bullets tore through the back of their ankles, shredding any tendons in their path like Christmas ribbons.

“I TOLD YOU TO STAY BEHIND THAT BAR! DO IT NOW!” Yelled Billy over the gunfire.

The large window you were sitting behind was shattered and broken so you could hear the sirens outside getting closer and closer and fewer bullets being fired off toward you.

But then came the warmth and the throbbing but little pain from the impact of the bullet on the lower side of your stomach.

You knew something was wrong though from the intense heat that burned inside your body.

Over the dying gunfire, you called to him, “Billy! I need help!”

Suddenly, the bullets stopped and the sirens sounded like they were right outside. Your fingers were numb, there wasn’t any feeling in them as you tried to hold onto your handgun.

That’s when Billy took it from you, trying to reassure you it was going to be alright which is when he saw the hole in your abdomen, blood pouring out against your snow white dress shirt.

“It’s almost over…I’m right here. You’re gonna be alright, sweet girl. They’re coming.” He whispered against your forehead.

“It burns, Billy!” You cried out. “It hurts so much!”

The crystal chandeliers swung back and forth like pendulums, restaurant patrons that were caught in the crossfire lie dead on the floor covered in blood and glass, and you could see the flashing red lights coming from the street outside.

Blood stained Billy’s dress shirt, some of it was his from where a bullet grazed his arm but most of it was yours. He clung to you like a shadow, then was forced out of the way to let the paramedics do their job and take care of you on the way to the hospital.

Trying to stay conscious, you heard bits and pieces of conversations between Billy, the police and paramedics.

“Mr. Russo, can we take a look at your arm, please?” A voice said. “Yes, we’re taking her to the hospital…if you’re refusing medical care, you’ll have to drive over there yourself.”

“SHE IS MY LIFE! I’m riding with her! Get out of my way, NOW!” He yelled, pressing the barrel of his gun to the paramedic’s forehead.

Paralyzed with fear, all they could do was nod, and open the door for him so he could ride with you.

With the oxygen mask over your face, you tried to playfully scold him for yelling and threatening the paramedics but every time you tried to laugh, you writhed in pain because that made your stomach hurt…a lot.

Before you closed your eyes, you heard Billy tell you, “I’ll never let you out of my sight, I love you.”

You felt a gentle kiss on your forehead and then passed out.

**********

The distant voices you heard sounded like they were underwater, hard to understand except for certain words and phrases here and there. Some of the voices were unfamiliar saying things like “She needs surgery…internal bleeding…we have to take her now…Mr. Russo, please let us do our job.”

Other people’s voices were very familiar like Frank, Maria, Lisa and Junior. “What happened, Bill?...Will she be ok, Uncle Billy?...Have you slept at all, Billy?”

From what you could make out, Billy only left you to go shower and sleep a little but was never away from you for very long. And anytime he did leave, Frank stayed with you and Billy would put two members of his team outside your door. Frank would talk to you too. “You gotta wake up, kid…We miss you, Bill misses you…he’ll never forgive himself if you don’t wake up.”

But a lot of the time, it was only Billy’s voice in the room even if you could only understand pieces of what he was saying. As time passed, what was first just a bunch of muffled dialogue eventually became clearer, more concise, and the silvery tone to his voice was bringing you back to him. He kept saying things like “Wake up for me, sweet girl…Open your eyes.”

Sometimes he sounded scared and angry. “Say something, just fucking say something…yell at me, tell me I’m the reason you’re in this hospital bed right now…tell me you never wanna see me again, just let me hear your voice, baby…please.”

Very slowly, your eyes opened, and inside the room was dark except for the lights from the machines you were hooked up to. As the moonlight shined in from outside, it highlighted one side of his handsome face.

With one of his hands placed near his temple, you watched him gently inhale and exhale as his chest expanded and then relaxed. Looking him over, you noticed his beard had grown in a little more like he hadn’t trimmed it in a couple of days.

How long have you been asleep?

You tried to speak but no words came out just a little squeak followed by a slight groan because of the burning pain in your stomach.

Billy jerked awake when he heard you. “Oh my god y/n, you’re awake!” He said in a surprised tone, closing his hand over yours, and flicking on the bedside light.

You tried to sit up a little more but he stopped you.

“No, no, no…don’t move, sweet girl.” Said Billy, gently putting a hand on your shoulder and giving you a sip of water.

“Billy?” You finally managed to eke out something coherent.

“Yeah, I’m here baby. It’s ok.” He said, gently stroking your cheek. “You scared me, ya know.”

“I’m sorry.” You replied with a hitch in your voice.

Never breaking eye contact, he sat next to you and explained everything that happened. The mob wanted Billy dead for protecting their star witness that was going to testify against them.

They wanted him to pay but they obviously had no idea what kind of man Billy was. He was a marine, a combat veteran, and a survivor. He didn’t know the definition of giving up, he’d never surrender and he would die trying to protect you.

You knew that.

Billy also said that the bullet wound in your stomach needed to be repaired with surgery to stop the internal bleeding and that you lost a lot of blood and after explaining everything to you, his facial expression changed. It shifted from elation to the feeling of complete and utter guilt. He blamed himself, you could see it in his eyes as his lips curled back from his clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, beautiful. I am so, so sorry. This is all my fault.” He said, clenching his fist. “I should have protected you better, I didn’t and I’m sorry!”

“Billy, look at me.” You said, calmly stroking his beard with your thumb. “I knew what being in a relationship with you would entail, I didn’t walk away when you told me what kind of work you do and the risks you take every single day. Knowing that I could end up tangled in that web too was terrifying but you were worth it to me.”

“I won’t let you die because of me!” He shouted.

Billy turned and started to walk away, out of your room and out of your life if you couldn’t stop him.

“SHE IS MY LIFE!” You shouted back, your voice cracking and fading as you did. “That’s what you said, right?! If that’s true then you do NOT get to walk out on me, Billy Russo!! If I am your life, then you are mine! I know who you are and I know you would never give up! No matter what, isn’t that right, soldier!!?”

He stopped and grabbed hold of the door frame, still facing away from you, his body was stiff with disappointment and as he hung his head, pieces of his raven colored hair tumbled into his eyes.

“You heard me say that?” Billy choked out.

Tears pricked your eyes as you replied, “Yes baby, I heard you. Even though I couldn’t respond, I heard you talking to me and I won’t let you give up on me like so many have given up on you. I love you, Billy Russo. You are…my life.”

The tears streaming down your face fell hard and fast as Billy turned around to face you. Fighting against the pain in your stomach, you pulled yourself up to a sitting position and his long legs took him right to your bedside to help you get more comfortable. He gently cupped your cheeks, closed his eyes and touched his forehead to yours then softly pressed his lips to yours.

After the gentle kisses came the firm and possessive kisses, delicately biting at your chin and along the side of your neck. But he slowed down when he remembered you were in a hospital bed, nursing a fresh gunshot wound.

“Shit, are you ok? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked. “I’m sorry. I don’t ever want to hurt you.”

Your lips were trembling as you replied,“I know you don’t, handsome. I know. You’ll only hurt me if you leave me. We can figure this out, you and me.”

You could hear his heart beating rapidly inside his chest as he squeezed you until you could barely breathe. Gently stroking your hair, he stayed silent for what seemed like hours, intensely pondering on what to say next and what to do. His tight grip on your body loosened and he delicately pressed his lips to your forehead before gazing down into your eyes.

“I know what I have to do, sweet girl.” He purred.

Billy gripped the sides of your face, his lips firmly pressed into a straight line with hell burning behind his dark eyes.

Nervously, you asked, “What are you going to do, Billy?”

His lips curled back to reveal clenched teeth and with acid in his tone, he growled one more thing before turning and leaving your room.

“I have to kill them…I have to kill them all.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @aoi-targaryen @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @rachlovesactors @qu1etwolf

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso @colereads

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[theysaidhush]

hii its my first time req also i love love love ur writing 🫶🏻 i was wondering if u could do an ot8 skz x fem reader poly and if not either seungmin or lee know where the reader has a severe panic attack during isac? the rest would be up to you and of course if you dont feel comfortable doing this dont feel pressured to

There's always light at the end of the tunnel

➝ YouCan'tSeeItButIt'sThere!OT8 x 9thMember!Reader ➝ You don't have panic attacks. Jisung does but you don’t. Right..? ➝ angst, comfort? ➝ wc. 2k Hiii omg I'm your first !!! I'm so sorry that it took me such a long time to answer, hope you're still around !!

Are panic attacks something that you fear, or have? Not at all. You know what they are, you can try to understand how people feel when they are having one. But since you've never been the one to have it, you don't really understand, you don't...feel it.

Sometimes, you're a witness - it's not something that one would willingly witness for it can create some awkward thoughts and clumsy actions. A thing that people don't tell you, it's how you feel when you actually get to witness a panic attack. It's like you're having one too, especially when the person having it is close to you. You don't know what to do, what to say - should you hold his hands or let him breathe? would it be weird ask him if they're alright - spoiler alert, it is. But it's not something that is taught in school, something that people are aware of - like how you should or shouldn't behave in front of a wild animal. Yet it should.

But you were fine standing in the side lines. The only person who ever had a panic attack in front of you was Jisung. Don't get me wrong, he is your Sweet Cheeks - no one should ever tell him that this is his nickname in your phone, he would get cocky - you partner in crime and your bud. But by fearing how he saw you, you never quite acted during one of his moments. Maybe you were worried - you can be quite something at time. Maybe you were too much, as one of the kids was always here for him, even if you were there before - are you jealous ? A bit.

But it never crossed anyone's mind that this would happen to you. The never ever sleeping little chipmunk high on life. You can congratulate, you've been hiding quite some things under the bed. Things that made the monster sympathize with you. And you thought it was fine, you really thought that someone else needed the attention and the care. It never crossed your mind that there was enough love in the eight's heart for two little anxious chipmunks high on life. But for you're defense - not that anyone blames you - you hadn't seen it coming.

Everything was fine, and then it wasn't. People tend to say that you never get used to the feeling. The overwhelming need to breathe. The first time is always the worse. You don't know what's happening. You are scared, you feel alone, breathless, and you can't hear nor see what's going on around you. And then in a brief moment of clarity it crosses your mind.

Me?

Because you always thought that you were not sad enough for that. And it's the worse that happens. Discovering that you are in fact not alright. That you're dealing with shit bigger than yourself, heavier than what your body can handle. And you fall.

It has never happened before.

Why me?

Why can't I breathe?

Am I dying?

What's wrong with people?

Why are they looking at me?

What's wrong with me?

Someone..?

One moment you're playing with gravels on the ground, the other you're staring blankly at the same spot, eyes unmoving and hands slightly trembling.

Kim Seungmin knows you quite well. Stays know that Sungmin knows you quite well - when you joined the group, a few years later after Stray Kids' debut, it took just a month or two for your ship to be one of the most popular in Stray Kids. It would have been weird, knowing that people were expecting you of fantasizing about a non-existent relationship with one of the youngest. But like it was meant to be, just a month later he was the one to look you in the eyes and tell you what you needed to hear. He was your emotional support. The anchor to your sailing and swaying ship. So yeah, Kim Seungmin might be the one who knows you the best among Stray Kids. And he knows that your eyes usually do not look like one of a dead fish.

He does't move. He stares at the screen displaying the score of each groups competing in the ISAC. Stray Kids' not bad - they're serving, like they usually do. His arms sway awkwardly and he shift his weigh on his right leg. He then looks at you for a brief moment. You're not moving. That's weird, you don't usually stay on the same spot for more than a good twenty seconds.

"What's got your panties in a twist?"

Seungmin hopes that Stay aren't that good at playing detectives and lip reading, because Changbin proved once more that he doesn't give a single fuck about his idol image.

"I'm not mad? What makes you think that I'm mad?"

"Well..." Changbin stops in front of the taller boy, one eyebrow raising as he takes the famous 'pregnant woman pose'. "Why are you asking me? Shouldn't you know?"

For a second - one that dumb Jisung and dumber Hyunjin wouldn't have caught - the singer takes a look at his girl. A brief second. But Seo Changbin do not need more than a second - he is Seo Changbin after all. And what he sees, or understand, do not seem to please him.

"What's up with her?"

He says that with a frown in his face, abandoning his ridiculous posture for one which is more menacing, which could show everyone that something's changed. But Seungmin carefully catches the hem of his vest before the rapper goes toward their ninth member.

If you ask Changbin what he doesn't like about being a K-pop idol, he'd probably say "Nothing" with a smirk on his face. Because Seo Changbin does what he wants and eats what he craves. But if there's one thing that he hates, it's when he can't help people who needs it - especially their female member - because of the repercussion it could have on his group. And he knows it. Seungmin knows it. He is reckless, and they don't need that right. Especially not right now.

A few days later, what happened between them made Stayville go crazy with some cliché videos and compilation of the two men standing close to each other. The famous Seungbin compilations. Little did they know that nothing romantic was happening between them - not at that time anyway.

"Is she..." Changbin's eyes narrowed, looking thoroughly at the young woman as a raw terror and uneasiness flooded his body, "even breathing?"

It was a valid question. To those who were surrounding her and looking close and carefully enough, it was clear that her face was getting paler. Now, it really was worrying.

As if walking into a shop, Seungmin's feet led his straight toward his member, light heartedly and without any sense of urgency. But inside, he felt like bile was rising up his throat, the pure terror hidden behind curtains of hair a unusual and unfitting expression on his girl.

It only seemed normal to crouch next to her and to comfort her with his warm touch - she usually craves it.

If the way you tense up and get slightly away from him is a sign, you clearly don't need it right now, don't even want it. And you have never denied him affection. You always came to him whenever something bothered you - or he would tease the answer out of you, it depends. Why couldn't you bear the mere idea of him touching you right now, when you clearly needed him the most? Why were you refusing the only sense of normalcy in this raging sea of cold water and prickly wreck?

You vaguely discerned the hurt on his face, above the other millions of emotions swimming in his eyes.

"It's okay Seungmin, I got it."

It was a just whisper. Like a siren's voice coming from beneath the surface. What a great parallel, you would have praised yourself in other circumstances. Among all the chaos happenings in and outside your head, you vaguely understood that you were taking somewhere else. It was dark, silent. The light wasn't blinding you anymore, your eyes could rest, the storm was now only raging in your head.

"I can do it... Please."

There's a brief movement that you can't even register in your haze before you feel warm hands engulfing yours. The feeling isn't disturbing, like Seungmin's hand was. You welcome it with a tight grip.

"It's okay to cry, don't hold it."

You really wanted to voice your confusion. Why would you cry? You just felt like you were dying, why would cry help.

"You just have to let it all out. This happens when you bottle up your emotions for too long, then you feel like you can't cry in front of other, or scream, because this is not socially acceptable, so you just hold it in."

The accuracy of the fact was almost scaring. Your eyes, unfocused, tried to identify the silhouettes before you, a choked sob escaping your lips as your legs failed you and you tumbled, your back hitting the cold wall behind you as the silhouettes carefully helped you towards the ground. It was cold. It was nice.

"And when you hold it in, you feel like you can't breathe. Like the world is closing up on you. Everyone is staring, but no one is looking. They can hear you, your thoughts, they can see your deepest secrets, feel how you feel... It's disturbing, isn't it?"

You try to nod, the memory from just a moment ago burning behind your eyelids, the hurt on Seungmin's face. It's not that you don't trust him...

"You just don't want them to see you like this. Vulnerable, pitiful...weird."

Another choked sob escape you, a puff of air leaving your lips, and you feel slightly better as you inhale. Only once, but it's better than zero.

"You don't want them to know that you lied when they asked you if you were okay. You don't want to fail them."

While the words utter by this person seems terribly accurate, it helps soothing the raging storm, which now seems to have been replaced by a grey clouds pouring down on you.

"But you're not failing anyone. They want to help you."

A ray of sunshine.

"It's not wrong to feel those emotions, to experience those episodes."

Another one. It's warm on your skin.

"You're not dying, noting's wrong with you, we're just here and we'll stay as long as you need us. We're not leaving."

Your breathing is back to normal, if not a little shaky, and you feel the ground you're sat on. You never really thought about it. But "There's always light at the end of the tunnel", right?

Your light is warm and comforting, leaving a tingly sensation in your head after each words spoken with care.

"It'll happen again. From now on, you'll have those panic attacks again, at random moments, whenever you feel overwhelmed, whenever you feel." the other silhouette says, his hands hovering over your cheek, not daring touching you. "It's not unusual to refuse help and shy away from the person whose opinion about us is the most important. Seungmin will understand."

And your light has a form and a name, and right now, two rays are shining brightly on you.

You bury your head in Jisung's neck as he wraps an arm around you and let your cry fill the room, Minho's presence on the other side comforting even if not touching you in any way.

"It's gonna be alright, we'll get through it together. You and I."

Jisung's words are not just that: words. It's a promise. At the moment, it doesn't even cross your mind that he sees himself in you, that he feels like it is his duty to help you. The way you're curled up into his chest, tears washing down your face, sobs escaping your lips without interruption. You look like a child. Scared.

But it's alright, because even if you don't know how you'll live with this, you'll manage. Jisung did, and you ought to be just as strong as him. Even if it means hiding from everyone but Minsung. It'll get better overtime, right?

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 25

Summary: you finally make your way to talk to Randy, but the situation turns dangerous when you get caught. During a flashback, Daryl sits with you by the quarry, before Shane or talks of college, and as you talk and laugh, he finds himself overwhelmed by unspoken feelings for you. 

warnings: Shane is pretty scary in this one, no other warnings apply. as always lmk if I forgot any!

X flashforward x

The barn is quiet, save for the distant murmur of Shane and Andrea’s hushed conversation outside. You know this could potentially be a terrible idea, but you needed to know. Needed to talk to Randy yourself. The wood of the barn slat wall creaks as you lean against it, walking along the side to the back door. You glance back one last time, making sure Andrea and Shane are still distracted before slipping inside. The scent of old hay and dust fills the space, your footsteps soft on the dirt floor as you make your way to the center of the barn.

The midday sun peaks through the gaps where the wood has rotted in the ceiling above as you take in the sight of him. Randy sits tied to a wooden post, his bruised and bloodied face twisted in discomfort, but when he spots you, something flickers in his eyes—hope. He straightens slightly, doing his best to look less like a beaten man and more like someone worth trusting. His brown puppy dog eyes are alight with enthusiasm as he looks at you.

“You came back,” he says, his voice soft, almost grateful. “I was hoping you would.”

You cross your arms, standing just far enough away to keep your distance. “I need answers.”

“Look, I’m not like those other guys. I’m just trying to survive, same as you.”

You study him, not moving an inch. “And that’s why you were running with a group of men who tried to kill my people?”

Randy lets out a shaky breath, his expression carefully constructed to appear sincere. “I didn’t have a choice, okay? Your guys shot first–killed a couple of our guys!-- but then the dudes I was with left me there to die, man! I’ll take you guys to them, explain what happened. No one’s gonna get hurt, we can all work together!” he’s trying to keep his voice down, you can tell, but his words are desperate.

You narrow your eyes, the alarm bells ringing in your head. You can’t tell what to believe. The Randy you remember from the overcrowded house party was goofy, sweet, maybe a little dumb. But this world changed people. 

“These guys here, they don’t listen to me,” he insists, his voice rising, “But you will. I remember you, Y/N. You were always so nice. Real pretty too, still are.”

“You don't even know me, we met one time, Randy,” you roll your eyes, “I was drunk and needed a distraction. Now tell me where your group is.”

His face falls for just a second before he scrambles to recover. “I–I don’t know. We moved around a lot. Please don’t let them kill me, Y/N. I know they’re gonna,”

His eyes dart toward the door, where Shane and Andrea’s voices still carry faintly in the distance. His tone softens again, trying a different approach. “Look, you seem smart. You gotta know I’m not the bad guy here. You help me, and I’ll owe you one. We can both walk away from this.”

You take a slow breath, your arms still crossed as you keep your eyes on him. You hated the idea of him dying just because no one knew what to do with him. But he knew too much, knew too many people here in the group. Knew where this house was, from what Rick said earlier. “I don’t need anything from you, Randy.” you finally say, softly.

Before he can respond, the barn door creaks loudly, and your body alights with shock, freezing you to the spot as you see a tall figure in the doorway, the gleam against him bright from the sun. Shane’s voice cuts through the quiet, rough and edged with suspicion. “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

Your heart skips a beat as he steps into the barn, his gaze locked on you, then flicking to Randall with a barely restrained fury. Andrea is behind him with her eyes wide, both hands on her gun that she holds down at the ready. Shane’s eyes narrow as he takes a step toward you, tension radiating from every movement. His eyes flick back to Randall, and the shift in his demeanor is immediate—his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. He stalks toward him, the sound of his boots heavy on the barn floor.

“What the hell did you say to her?” Shane growls, his voice low, dangerous. His hand goes immediately to his gun, bringing it to Randy’s face, and the kid whimpers and whines, pleading with him.

“Shane, enough!” you yell. Andrea is up by you, ready to act, but still telling Shane to stop as well. 

“N-Nothing! I didn’t say anything!” he stammers, standing up in fear, his voice shaking. “I was just trying to talk, that’s all.”

“Just tryna talk?” Shane repeats mockingly, his tone dripping with contempt. He leans in close to Randall, his face inches away from his. “If I find out you said something you shouldn’t have—if you tried to pull anything with her—You’re gon’ wish I left you out on the road earlier,”

Randall’s whole body trembling as Shane takes a step back, holstering his gun and looking at you. 

“I swear, man, I didn’t—” Randy stammers.

“Shut up,” Shane snaps, cutting him off with a glare before turning on you again.

“Get back to the house,” he tells Andrea, not taking his eyes off you. She looks between the two of you for a short moment, before running out of the barn. Now it was just you, him, and Randy. The anxiety you felt skyrockets to fear.

His anger is setting the room ablaze, his eyes furious as he strides toward you. Your body still feels frozen, cold chills keeping you in place as you wait for his reaction. Before you could move, Shane’s hand closes around your arm with a vice-like grip, yanking you away from the scene. His fingers dig painfully into your skin as he drags you behind the barn, out of sight, out of earshot. The isolation hits you, and your heart pounds faster as he pushes you up against the side of the barn, wood digging into your back.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Shane growls, his face inches from yours. His breath is hot, reeking of anger and frustration, “you sneak in here, talking to him behind my back? Are you stupid?”

You try to pull your arm free, but his grip tightens, and a flicker of panic sparks in your chest. “I was trying to get answers,” you say, your voice steady, but the tremor of fear rises beneath the surface.

“Answers?” Shane’s laugh is sharp and humorless. “All he’s gon’ do is try to manipulate you, say all the nice pretty things to you to get you to cave–to let him go off to his group. You know what could happen to you if all those guys come around here?”

His face is close enough now that you can feel the heat radiating off him. He isn’t just angry—he’s furious. And it scares you. Your brows knit as you feel his hand tighten around you, “Shane, let go,” you say, your voice more shaky than you intend.

But Shane doesn’t let go. Instead, he leans in closer, his grip like iron on your arm. 

“You think you’re tough, huh? Think you can handle whatever comes your way? You don’t know a damn thing, Y/N. You’re playin’ with fire, thinkin’ you’re untouchable. And you know what? It’s always me—me—pullin’ you out of the shit you get yourself into. You think you’ve been handling things? No. You’re lucky I’ve been around to clean up your messes. But keep pushin’, and I won’t be there next time. You’ll wish you’d listened.”

Your heart pounds, and for the first time in a long time, your toughness faltered. He’s bigger, stronger, and angrier than you’d ever seen him. When you didn’t answer, he just went on, getting more and more angry with each word.

“Always so reckless. So stupid,” Shane sneers, each word dripping with contempt. “Always messin’ in things that don’t concern you. When you gon’ learn to keep your mouth shut and stay out of the way?” His other hand slams against the wall beside your head, the sound sharp and sudden, making you flinch. 

“Shane,” your voice trembles, “You’re hurting me.”

Shane’s hot breath is still on you as he glares at you and you’re trying to back away from him, but it’s no use, of course. He has you trapped against the wooden wall, the nails between slats now digging into your back from trying to get as far away as possible from him. You weren’t sure how far he was about to take this. His hand on you is like a hot iron brand, and the other one cages you in over your shoulder and by your face. He has you right where he wants you, pinned to the wall, and for a flash of a moment, prickling in your spine has you fearing for your life.

“You’re gon’ wanna let her go now,” a low voice comes from around the corner of the barn.

Shane’s head snapped up, and you turned to see Daryl standing just a few feet away, crossbow raised, his expression cold and controlled. His eyes were fixed on Shane, the tip of his bolt aimed at Shane’s face as he circled around to face you.

Shane’s mouth curled into a bitter smile, an ugly laugh slipping out as he took in the archer, “Aw, ain’t this sweet,” he leered, “The best friend trying to stick up for ‘er after she nearly got herself killed. Typical,” he laughed again, his voice dripping with mockery. “Never could keep her out of trouble, could you, Dixon? Hell, last time you left, I thought she might actually do well for herself, and look at her now. Attached at the hip again, back to doin’ the same ol’ reckless shit with you. But we both know how this ends. You’ll walk away again—leaving her to me to pick up the pieces.”

Daryl is silent as he keeps the crossbow up, pointed at Shane with a hunter’s precision and stillness. Shane just shakes his head, a breathy, cold laugh escaping as he lifts himself off the barn where he’s caging you, and walks off. You watch as he makes his way back to the house, scrubbing his hand on the back of his head and stalking off.

The Shane you knew—the one who used to protect you, the one who was always in control—is slipping further away. That wild look in his eyes, the way he’d grabbed you… You’ve never seen him like that before. And the worst part is, you didn’t know if this was the last time it would happen or just the beginning.

Daryl immediately drops his bow when Shane is a good, safe distance and throws it to the ground, coming to you. His hands hover over you as you close your eyes, trying desperately to calm your breathing, keeping in the tears that threaten to fall. You’d never seen Shane get that volatile. Never actually try to hurt you. Well, that wasn’t true though. The moment he had you pinned at the CDC rings through your mind again, a shiver raking through you at the memory now.

“Did he hurt you?” Daryl asks quickly and quietly, studying your body, your face, while his hands brush over your skin. You grip your arm where it feels like you were branded with Shane’s handprint, trying to soothe your skin, or maybe just soothe yourself. You feel your lip tremble, but bite down on it hard until you start tasting the metallic lingering of blood.

“Hey, hey,” Daryl whispers, you can feel his soft breath over your face, his hands finally coming to rest on your face. Your eyes flutter open to look at him, and the only thing that is keeping you from losing it are his blue eyes on you. You hold onto them with your gaze as you still try to steady yourself. 

His touch is tender, a stark contrast to the violence that had filled the air just moments ago. “Shoulda let that arrow fly,” he muttered, his voice thick with a protective edge.

You let out a humorless laugh, but then swallow hard and shake your head, the warmth of his touch sinking into your skin as you look away, “I don’t know what’s happening to him,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “He’s… different.”

Daryl’s jaw tightens, his expression hardening briefly. “Why’d you have to go in there? I told you to stay away. And with Shane out here–he’s dangerous, Y/N,”

You feel a knot forming in your throat as everything hits you. For a moment, you feel like your walls are crumbling, like the tough exterior you have tried so hard to keep is falling apart. And Daryl—he’s the only person who could ever see through it. He seems to read your mind, because he’s bringing you in close, wrapping his arms around you. You let him, and you rest your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent deeply to ground you. Your arms come up under his, gripping the back of his shirt.

When he pulls back, he keeps you in his arms, studying your face again, almost like his wheels are turning quickly, unsure if he should do what he’s thinking of. You tilt your face up, parting your lips, inviting him in, anything to take you out of the moment you were just in. He seems to understand, and leans in and presses his lips softly to yours. The fire that had ignited between you so many times before flickered back to life, and your lips melded together slowly, the tension in your body disappearing. Everything dissolved into this embrace, and you wonder briefly why either of you had waited so long to let this happen. 

When you finally pull back you stay close as you try to catch your breath. You lean your head forward and he kisses your forehead, his hand lingering on your neck, his thumb softly tracing the curve of your jaw as his breath comes out in short, uneven bursts.

“Can’t stand seein’ you like this,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, but filled with something tender, “We can’t keep stayin’ here like this,”

You close your eyes, leaning into him as his words sink in. You know he means he wants to leave the camp, the group. But as much as Shane scares you, the numbers you have here are safer than heading out alone with him, “I don’t want to be scared anymore,” you whisper, barely audible, but you know he heard you.

“You ain’t gotta be,” Daryl whispers back, his voice full of quiet promise, “Not anymore,”

The moment stretches between you, the warmth of his touch and the feeling of safety that came with it. Here, behind the barn, out of sight, with just the two of you, you finally did let yourself believe you would be safe as long as you had Daryl.

X flashback x

Daryl

It was one of those quiet nights, the kind where the world seemed to slow down. The moon hung low over the quarry, casting a pale glow across the water as Daryl sat next to you, an empty pizza box between you two. You were talking about something that had happened earlier, laughing as you recounted the story, but Daryl wasn’t really listening anymore. His focus had shifted—he was watching you, not the stars or the quarry, but you.

This was how you spent a lot of your nights, just the two of you hanging out like it was nothing. But tonight, something felt different. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t put a name to it, but something had shifted.

You turned to him, your smile easy and bright, the kind that always made something stir in his chest. “Can’t believe you actually finished more slices than me,” you teased, your voice light and playful.

Daryl barely registered the words. His eyes were locked on your face, on the way the moonlight softened your features. Something inside him twisted. He wasn’t sure why, but everything felt more intense tonight. The way you smiled at him, the sound of your laughter—it hit him harder than usual, like a punch to the gut.

You wiped your hands on a napkin, still smiling as you leaned back, content. But there was a softness in your gaze when you turned to him again, a quiet calm that made his heart beat just a little faster.

“It’s nice out here,” you had said, eyes drifting up to the stars. “Quiet.”

Daryl nodded, but his attention stayed on you. He’d never really let himself dwell on how much he enjoyed nights like this, just the two of you. But now, the thought of it ending at any time soon was pressing on him in a way he couldn’t shake.

You had caught him staring, your smile faltering just a bit. You tilted your head, a playful curiosity in your eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing. “You look like you just swallowed a bug or somethin’,”

He swallowed, his throat dry. He didn’t know how to explain it. Didn’t even have the words. All he knew was that being around you felt right, like it was where he was supposed to be. Always had been that way—you were the only person who didn’t expect anything from him, who didn’t judge him, and for once, that thought scared him.

You held his gaze, the silence between you going on what felt like forever. The teasing grin slowly slipped from your lips, replaced by something more serious, more uncertain. Your eyes flicked down for a second, just enough for Daryl to notice, and something clicked in his chest—you had felt it too.

His heart pounded harder, his palms suddenly feeling too warm. He thought about closing the distance between you, thought about what it would be like to lean in, to feel you close. The idea had crossed his mind before. The first time he didn’t even think twice but leaned in while he watched you from the kitchen counter, making up some excuse about seeing it in a movie once. But tonight… different. Like it actually meant something. This wasn’t the same careless move he’d make as a kid, this was real.

But he stayed frozen. His mind screamed at him to stay put, not to push it, not to mess things up. He couldn’t even name what he was feeling, let alone act on it. His gaze lingered on yours for a split second before he tore it away, breaking the silence– his voice rough and quiet, “You gonna eat that last slice?”

You had blinked, the tension easing just a little as you glanced at the pizza box, a small, confused smile creeping back onto your face. “You offering it up?” You had teased, though your voice softened, like you were still recovering from whatever just passed between you.

Daryl shrugged, his heart still racing, but his voice calm as he nodded toward the box. “Ain’t hungry.”

You chuckled, grabbing the last slice and taking a bite, but the mood had shifted. The moment had passed, but the weight of what almost happened lingered between you, unspoken but heavy. Daryl shoved his hands into his pockets, watching you eat, trying to ignore the knot tightening in his chest.

[coffeegnomee]

The two sides of season 5.

The absolute vibe difference from looking at Minute’s lore by stitching together all the lore moments together VS taking out ALL the lore is sending me. 

And both are immaculate.

Like in the first, you would find Minute, Jumper, and Pentar in the cave, lost, silent, overwhelmed that they just lost the presidency and were betrayed by Leo and Clown.

Minute slides down the wall, buries his head in his hands. He was just a DM away, why didn’t they talk to him. They were so close to peace.

Burnt out, despondent. Weary from weeks of trying to save bases from PrinceZam, from weeks of resisting the urge to kill him. Emotionally drained from realizing there was a new threat on top of Zam; Mapicc and Ro were going to revert spawn to the way it was before they got there.

He had bet the presidency. And lost. Was betrayed by the whole server for some money.

What should he do now?

As they wait in that cave, the sounds of the server turning to hardcore echoes through the dripstone. Screams of frustration at the idiocy of Ro as Bacon is annihilated by an arrow cannon. Planet’s cry cut short as Zam’s sword stabs through his back.

They’re lost. Broken.

And then Zam’s sing-song voice comes to their ears. What are you going to do now, Minute? I just killed Planet, Minute? Do you care? Do you even care? 

What if I blew up the Vitalasy hole, Minute? Would you stop me?

The Vitalasy hole. Threatened over and over. Not this time. If Zam wanted to die, he could die.

The team exchanges a look, nodding. They equip their elytras and fly over. 

Zam is jumping up and down waving his hands. Insane grin spread wide. His arms thrown out in welcome as the team plummets from the sky like rocks, landing in full gear.

Zam says something stupid. Who cares what this cretin is saying. He’s the reason for everything bad that’s happened to them. “Let’s just cut to the chase”, Minute splashes the potions and in seconds the thorn in his side lies dead at his feet.

Mapicc and wemmbu destroy the Vitalasy hole. They would be next.

They plot the perfect ambush and in two swift strokes, both enemies are gone. The bloodlust keeps growing, it feels good, going back to his PMC roots. Just neutralize the threat in front of him. He never needed Clown to do the PMC’s good work.

Rumors fly that his enemies are possessing other server members’ bodies. It doesn’t matter. He could take them down again just as easily as before.

He takes a fight, and Clownpierce joins. He’s better than Clown. They have the gear advantage. 

But he slipped up. And all it takes is one slip up. He thought he knew what true bloodlust was. He thought he knew what cold, calculated indifference was. 

But Clown was far more relentless. Far more ruthless, targeting Minute and ignoring his teammates. 

Before he even knew what was happening, he was out of gear. On the run. Scrabbling over rock and river in a desperate attempt to flee. 

Maybe this is how Zam felt when he was dying. 

In one final attempt to swim away, he felt the cold steel of Clown’s sword pierce his armor and break it, plunging into his heart. It was all over. 

And then the other option is like:

(Every time I read this back I get the singsong “happy happy haPPY!” meme song stuck in my head. A silly goofy jingle. Or Zam doing the “I like purple, and I like green, but my favorite color, do you know my favorite color? My favorite color yellow!”. It makes me giggle so much. It’s so unserious.)

Minute is betrayed and it really freaking hurts. But time wins all wars, they would come up with the perfect attack eventually.

Completely unworried, they realize their names spell out Peanut Butter And Jelly! They’re the best part of a balanced breakfast!

They show up at spawn to see what the almighty and powerful wemmbu /neg has to say for himself. It’s a whole lot of nothing.

As they laugh together and leave for the carnival, Bacon just explodes, pops like a grape. It’s the funniest shit ever. They were going to win this war easy peasy. No worries.

They pose for a screenie to commemorate the new team name. Planet dies to Zam. Oh no! Anyway. 

Zam gets into call and it’s the perfect moment to mention that they’re the best part of a balanced breakfast! But this kid, man, he just wants to YAP. Yawn!

He starts threatening the Vitalasy hole or something. He’s done this so many times I literally could not care less. But he seems to be over there so I guess we’ll check it out. 

Laughing like drunken frat boys, high on their friendship, they fly over, and this ant is just standing at the top.

Let’s just wipe the grin off his face and screw this popsicle stand.

He drops. Really easily? Was that really his whole plan? If this is him winning, I hope he never stops winning. 

That was weird. Well. Anyways!

There’s this thing added where the dead can grant blessings and curses. That insane person, Zam, blesses Minute because of something called “made sense for my character”? Whatever that means. 

But man, Pentar got cursed twice and now he’s actually chubby. It’s like, kind of funny. But we have to fix him. 

Rek and Terry would die for them so Pentar can run. Quick fix. Everything is fair again. 

They move their base and prepare the Secret Plan™. The power of friendship was going to win this war. Together, they are an unstoppable force. Peace and justice would rule this land once and for all!

Jumper lures Mapicc over with some lie, Minute looks down the barrel of the arrow gun and giggles as he lines up the shot. It’s too easy. Jumper is safe on the camel and he pulls the trigger. Mappic pops like a grape, it’s a great sight to see. Enemy #2 is gone!

Maybe they could end this war today. Ash messages wemmbu, and wemmbu gets on. Omg the plan can happen today! They were going to win this war.

Wemmbu bans LifestealLord and it’s like, kind of concerning, but they have an ambush. With Ash’s signal they descend upon the president and kill him, it’s pitifully easy. Can you imagine his face when he saw his heart start dropping for the first time in weeks? Hilarious.

Are we the bad guys? No. no. 

Well, we may not loooook that peaceful right now, but you just gotta trust the process. 

Minute feels the first little doubt that they are as good as they think they are, he accepts the possibility. But like. They’re about to get the presidency back and unban everyone who was killed. The end result will fix everything. And everyone would be friends because who doesn’t love the power of friendship??

Ash, Jumper and Pentar EXPLODE in front of Minute. 

But that’s just not fair™. Kill us unceremoniously? We are not taking that.

They get brought back and there’s a slight issue. Their enemies start possessing bodies. But it’s nothing too important because they have a base to decorate!

And then their enemies stop playing fair. Why won’t they come to the AntiTrap Box™? Just come and sit down in front of us Oh My Gawd. We aren’t going to kill you, this is a friendly meeting because we are a little concerned that you might think you can win, but friendship is going to win. 

Fine. Observe from a distance.

We want a revive beacon of life. We can fight all week, and if any of you HAPPEN to last until Saturday we can do a big battle and then last team standing wins. Sound good?

What do you mean no? You want it to just play out? This is a human story? But I want to win. Somebody has to win.

The friendship gets strained as the tension grows. Their enemies still are a team of 4 despite the fact that they banned 3 people. They’re out numbered without Ash.

Over the next few days they get a little more paranoid. They know Clown has been logging on all day every day. They suspect a trap in their base, but they have to check it out together, so that none of them die. And preferably when nobody else is online so they’ll be safe.

But then they get goaded into a fight. But it was going to be fine. 15 stacks of xp each and secret netherite armor. They easily outmatched anyone who would come at them. 

At some point they had to fight, mighteswell be tonight. Mapicc is using harming arrows, the silly goober. 

Then Clown joins. And he’s also using harming. Maybe they missed something. 

Ro and Clown target Minute and Mapicc has a knock back sword that is really starting to get annoying. 

Things are not looking good. 

And the power of friendship is not strong enough in the face of an evil murderous clown. Minute dies, Pentar dies.

Jumper survives and rallies the And JellyS. One final stand to ban everyone. Because if nobody is alive, Lifesteal will be at peace. 

They fail. 

It’s sad. 

Oh Well! Let’s go back to the carnival!!! 

——

The second one also reads like a horror movie where it’s super happy but then every once in a while the screen goes blurry and the character starts breathing heavy when they realize maybe killing people should affect me, and then brightens up and the happy music starts playing again and it’s like the most unnerving shit ever. And then they all die brutally at the end.

But reading them back and remembering how both were actually happening at the same time is just so funny to me.

Maybe pb&j was a fun plot? nah. Unless? 

Also, I feel like it could be easy to read the second option as me being mean to pb&j and like /neg-ing their comments, but those out of pocket things makes this interpretation so much better, without it, it’s not nearly as absurd. And it genuinely brings me so much joy. Lifesteal used to not have any lore, and laughter at the other team and petulance at the things that go wrong for your team are time honored traditions. You can see Mapicc and Ro and Zam and Bacon and so many others doing it in earlier seasons. It comes out of them because it’s literally Minecraft and that always lends a certain level of absurdity at all times. Part of the charm. 

Also, I feel like if you missed Jumper’s pov of Minute’s and Pentar’s death you miss a lot of the character moments in either interpretation. She put it in her discord. 

[purplecoffee13]

Mr Sunshine - Part Three

Summary: “Harry takes you somewhere to celebrate, and it leads to some clarifying revelations.”

Wc: 5k (I’m guessing)

Tropes: grumpy!mc x sunshine!H

Warnings: talks about being drugged, SA, trauma

A/N: Hi! I’m back😎. Here’s the new sunshine chapter and the next one will be coming soon (and will be steamy! Be prepared!)

Series Masterlist

General Masterlist

************************************************

On Saturday evening, at 3:34 p.m. to be exact, Harry calls you. You aren’t quite sure why you remembered the exact minute. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that you rarely ever received calls from anyone that wasn’t your family. You had never thought it to be pathetic, but knowing the exact time at which he called made you realize that maybe it was.

You stare at your phone with a frown on your face. What on earth could Harry be calling you for? Once out of your state of shock, you scramble to grab your phone and answer his call.

“Hello?” You say, in a rather confused tone. For a second you wonder if something terrible has happened. Maybe he is in the hospital!

“Guess what.” Harry says from the other side of the line in his usual chipper tone. You roll your eyes and let yourself fall back onto your bed. You guess you’re glad he isn’t dying, but what on earth could he be calling you for then? And now you had to guess it? This guy could never just cut to the chase.

“What?” You huff.

“You have to guess, otherwise it’s not fun.” He insists, a breathy chuckle escaping his throat. “So… guess!”

“The world is ending.” You reply in your staple, monotone voice, laced with a thick layer of sarcasm. A sigh sounded from the other end of the phone.

“Is there not an ounce of positivity in your entire body?”

“What?” You faked your offense, trying to get on his nerves for once. “You told me to guess.”

“But why is it that something sinister like imminent doom is the first thing that comes to your mind?” He asks, sounding genuinely puzzled about it. You fight your lips from quirking up.

“I mean, it’s bound to happen eventually.” You shrug, even though he can’t see you. “I figure, if I guessing it, one day I ought to be right.”

“I will never be asking you to guess anything ever again.”

“Smart boy.” You praise him. “Now are you gonna tell me what’s up?”

“Right, yes.” Harry takes a deep breathe. “I passed— the test, I mean. I got an A.”

You smile, but try your hardest not to let it show in the way you talk. “I told you you were gonna ace it, dumb ass.

“Thanks… I think?” Harry replies after a few seconds of silence born out of confusion. He chuckles ever so awkwardly, shaking his head at your unusual ways. You can’t see it of course, but he is grinning from ear to ear. You are the first one he called actually. There was no one in the world he would’ve rather told first. Not even his mom, who had been drilling him about the exam for the past weeks.

“Yeah, never doubt you teacher again.” You say sarcastically, laughing along with your friend on the line.

“I won’t, I promise.” Harry assures you. “But it’s not the only reason I called you, though.”

Your swear you feel your heart stand still for a second. An overwhelming amount of anxiety takes over your body the second the sentence falls from Harry’s mouth and you find yourself beginning to sweat.

“Oh?” Is all you manage to say.

“I am also calling to tell you that you need to be ready by eight.”

“Why?”

“We are going to celebrate of course!” Harry’s voice rings through your phone and your eyes close as you let out a little sigh and mutter an ‘oh God’.

“God won’t release you from the wrath of my grip, sunshine.” You quite literally hear the smirk in his voice.

“Now who’s being sinister?” You say, shaking your head slowly.

“Well, I learned from the best, didn’t I?”

“And the brightest.” You add cheekily.

“Sure. Be ready at 8.” Harry reminds you. You give him a small ‘yes’ as a confirmation, but before you can hang up, Harry adds: “oh, and don’t bring your ego, it won’t fit in the car.”

You let out a loud sigh in response and hang up the phone, but your cheeks are burning and your mouth hurts. Weird, your mouth never hurts. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror and instantly relax those muscles. This is ridiculous. You will not be giggling over some guy.

“Stupid girl.” You murmur, pointing to your own reflection in the mirror.

But your confrontation with yourself does not quite stop you from counting down the hours until it is acceptable to get ready. You take a long shower and blow dry your hair, instead of letting it dry like you normally do. You also apply more make-up than you do on the regular. You would wear more make-up on a daily basis—you love to use it—but you have a tendency to oversleep.

Instead of the usual five to ten, it actually takes you fifteen minutes to pick out an outfit. There is a dress that has been hanging in your closet for far too long. And you really want to wear it, as this is the first time in almost a year that you have made concrete plans with a friend. The thought of it pains your stomach. God you have really isolated yourself ever since…

Oh well, that’s all changed now. You actually have a friend these days, or at least you think?

Nevertheless, you spend ten of the fifteen minutes wondering if the dress is not too much (it is the most casual dress you have hanging in your closet), and then you spend the remaining five actually putting the piece of clothing on your body.

It is 7:30pm by the time you give yourself one last look in the mirror. You put on a comfortable pair of high boots and wait on the couch until Harry arrives. You sent him your address after the call, and so far you haven’t gotten any messages about him being lost, so you think he’s good.

Sure enough, at 8:00pm on the dot, the bell rings. You force yourself to slowly walk to your door—you have no idea why—and take a breath before you open it up.

Upon opening the door, you are met with Harry’s wide smile—which he always wears. His hands are in his pocket and you watch his mouth slowly open—as if to say something—and close again before letting his eyes trail down your body. He looks quite surprised. You don’t blame him—you aren’t often in clothes like these.

Harry himself is dressed up a bit too. Not as much, but he doesn’t need to if he wants to look good; he just kind of does. The all black outfit works for him. The short sleeved dress shirt and the pants go perfectly together, as do the boots and belt he paired them with. You’re almost jealous of him for making such a simple outfit look so fabulous.

“You look…” Harry says, then trails off while he does a weak attempt at trying to find your eyes again. You are the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, how can that be? “Wow.”

“Wow?” You echo.

“Unexpected.”

“I look unexpected?” The corner of your mouth lifts but you hold it as best as you can.

“No— I mean yes— wait…” He frown, as lost in his words as you are, and thinks for a second before offering his final answer. “Yes, you look unexpected.”

“In a way that makes me want to say ‘thank you’ or throw the door in your face?” You tilt your head ever so slightly. Harry chuckles and shakes his head.

“I just mean to say that you always look good, and tonight you look good in an unexpected way.” You notice his cheeks turning a bit pink, and in turn so do your own. You have to bite the inside of your cheek to refrain yourself from giggling like a fucking idiot.

“Well, thank you, then.” You say. Harry murmurs a ‘your welcome’ and nods his head to the car before taking a few steps back, signaling you walk with him. You close your front door, lock it, and follow him to his car. He opens the door for you, and upon entering the car you don’t forget to tell him that he’s an ‘idiot’, but your heart flutters anyway.

Harry is mysteriously vague about where he’s planning on taking you, and he doesn’t say anything other than ‘you’ll see’ the entire drive. Your stomach drops when you finally do see.

You are parked in front of the frat house that was throwing a party tonight. You were already confused as to why you guys were driving through campus, but now you know why; it’s the quickest way to get there.

Your terror filled stare finds Harry’s face, who wears some sort of a pride filled smirk, but it fades a bit at the sight of you. You are starting to freak out. What the hell does he think he’s doing?

“Hey, it’s okay.” He says in a soft voice, but you just shake your head. Instead of saying anything else, he steps out of the car and walks to the door on your side, opening it for you. He holds out his hand, and despite the slight panic that has been ringing through your body, you take it. Harry leads you to the trunk of the car. He lets go of your hand to open it, and when he does, you’re met with three cool-boxes, all lined up in a row. When he takes off all the lids, you see what is inside.

Every cool-box has different drinks in them. The far left one has got water, sparkling water, and water with different tastes to it. The middle one has all kinds of sodas, and the one on the right is filled with juices and smoothies. Apple juice, orange juice, a mango and banana smoothie… you name it.

Your mouth hangs slightly open, taking in the view of the trunk. You want to form a full sentence but your mind can’t comprehend much right now.

“What…” You begin to say, but your mind trails off.

“You said you don’t drink at parties, at all.” Harry turns his body towards you, despite the fact that you are still staring at the cool-boxes. “I don’t know why that is—and you don’t have to tell me—but I assumed it had something to do with a bad experience. Anyway— I thought this was the perfect solution. This way we can stay hydrated and nothing can happen to the drinks because the car is locked. You can keep the car key in your purse if that makes you more comfortable.”

You don’t say anything, just stare at him with wide eyes. Harry isn’t quite certain what your take on the matter is, and it is starting to make him doubt his decisions.

“I— I’m sorry if this crosses a line. I just really wanted to bring you along and meet my friends.” He scratches the back of his neck as a nervous tic. His jaw is clenched the entire time as he looks back into your eyes. Your gaze is terrifying to him, in spite of it seeming softer than normal.

“Thank you, dork.” You say after finally being able to gather your breath. It makes you realize that you are utterly screwed. You like Harry. As more than a friend? Maybe? You don’t know, you haven’t experienced something like that before, but you know that your connection with Harry runs deeper than you had planned.

“My pleasure, sunshine.” Harry responds, and his dimples start to show. Your head turns back to the cool-boxes, hoping Harry can’t see the blood that has rushed to your cheeks. You start eyeing all the drinks, but settle on water in the end.

“Can I?” You ask ever so hesitantly. Harry gets all fuzzy the second you ask the question, and happily nods. He watches with a big smile as you reach for the water and open up the bottle, sitting against the trunk as you take a few sips.

There is no exchange of words between the two of you, only glances. But those tell you a thousand things, though. He seems to be pleased, and your eyes tell him that you are too. In a burst of spontaneity—and something else that you are not sure of what it is—you begin to confess.

“Uhm, in my first year, I went to this party at a frat house, and someone spiked my drink.” You say, and Harry’s head flies to you. He is frowning. You aren’t sure whether that is just him concentrating or actually being shocked by your statement. You decide to take your eyes off him and keep looking straightforward. “I was unconscious and then when I woke up, I was lying on a bed with this random guy over me…”

Harry’s hand is balled up into a fist, initially because of the nervousness, but now he’s hurting himself with how hard his nails press into his palm. He never really gets angry, but these are situations in which he just can’t hide his pure unfiltered rage.

“But I did scream, a—and I said no. But it was a bit slurred, I think.” You say with wide eyes, still staring into the distance. You always quick to defend yourself on this topic, even though Harry hasn’t uttered a word yet. It is kind of preventive, you assume. That way no one can ask you what you did ‘to stop it’ and you won’t have to break out in tears, because questions like those form a lump in your throat that you fear will never go away.

“He should have never gotten alone with you in the first place, sunshine. He’s the one at fault here, not you.” Harry assures you, and your gaze automatically searches for his. It doesn’t feel quite as scary anymore to look him in the eyes. You suppose it always has felt safe.

“And he is also a dead man walking, if I ever find him.”

Your eyebrows raise at his aggressive comment. Harry had never talked about anything remotely resembling to violence. It truly catches you off guard, but it also makes your heart warm to see that he is so adamant about defending you.

“Anyway…” you trail off, hoping to calm him down a bit with the positive end to your story. “two girls in the hallway heard me and they got him off me. My roommate at the time brought me to the ER, and after that I went home.”

You temporarily pause when you hear the sigh that comes from Harry’s mouth. It doesn’t sound bored or rude, rather tired. Like he feels the weight of the burden you have carried on your shoulder for so long. Besides your parents and your former roommate, no one knows this story.

“After that, I didn’t really want to drink or go anywhere anymore. Eventually I got over my fear of going to social events, but I still don’t want to drink anything. Maybe it’s paranoid, I don’t know.” You shrug, massaging your neck a bit, mainly out of awkwardness.

“It’s not paranoia’, it’s trauma.” Harry bents down to meet your eye level, making sure you see him when he says the reassuring words. The logical part of your brain knew that, but sometimes you would get frustrated. You hated how long you had let this experience rule your life for the past three years, and quite frankly you were embarrassed about it.

You felt like getting drugged that night shattered what you thought you knew about yourself, and still do. You don’t trust yourself like you did before. That night was the ultimate example of your incompetence; it showed you that you couldn’t be trusted with yourself. It took years of therapy to mend that broken view, and the destructive thinking pattern would re-enter your brain at times.

“I don’t have many friends, none actually; my past experiences made it a bit tricky.” You blurt out, and turn red when you see Harry smile at you with his furrowed brows. “I mean— what I’m trying to say is: thank you.”

“For what?” He nudges you in your waist. You shake your head at him, a faint smirk lingering on your lips from his teasing touch.

“For being a friend.” You say, and Harry’s mouth falls open.

“Did you just refer to me as a friend?!” He gasps dramatically, leaning into you as the sentence leaves his mouth. You close your eyes and let your head fall back.

“Oh god.” You mutter tiredly. Here we go.

“Can you say that again? I want to record this.” He whips out his phone and you put your hands over your face as you let out a groan.

“You know you’re basically saying you love me more than anyone else in the world right now.” He begins to annoy you, knowing damn well what he is doing. You refuse to answer him, not wanting to play into these antics of his. “I’m interpreting your silence as a yes, by the way.”

“You know what? I’m gonna walk home.” You push yourself off the trunk. You want to walk away a few steps for dramatic effect, and like you expected, Harry puts a stop to his teasing. You don’t expect him to pull you back by your waist and turn you around towards him, though. It catches you off guard and you can’t do anything but stare at him with wide eyes.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He says, voice rougher than just a few seconds ago. Your hands are still on his chest from trying to catch yourself when he spun you towards him. The proximity of it all slowly starts to get to you, and suddenly you’re aware of how good Harry smells. He always smells good, but right now it is causing a physical reaction from you. You feel yourself start to get hot, as if the temperature just rose a couple degrees.

“Let’s go inside.”

And so you do. Harry grabs your hand like it’s no big deal, and you spend the short walk to the frat house trying to convince yourself of the same. Once inside, you stay a bit closer behind Harry, holding his bicep with your free hand as he leads you through the house.

What you don’t know is that Harry is freaking out inside at how you are touching him. He can’t believe it; you are here with him and you’re holding him like he’s yours. Even though he’s not, but he is enjoying the idea for now.

You enter the backyard, and it is full of people you have seen on campus or in class. Most people don’t bat an eye at you; they are mainly focused on Harry. A few look a bit confused at the sight of Harry with a girl, but you try your best not to overthink it all. You both finally arrive at where Harry’s friends are standing, and he is quick to introduce you.

“Everyone, this is Y/N. The girl who saved my life this term.” He says proudly, and he catches his friends looking at him knowingly. They’re probably going to be a bit of a pain in the ass, but he hopes maybe it’ll make you realize that he likes you as more than just a friend.

You smile and let go of Harry’s hand when you see two of his friends glance at it. You lean closer and greet each friend individually with a handshake. The last one, Mikey, offers you a drink and you kindly refuse. So far, it’s going great.

“How come we haven’t seen you at parties before, Y/N?” Another friend of Harry asks. You fiddle with your hands a bit, nervous because you haven’t met this many people at the same time in a long time, and you haven’t cared what this many people thought about you in a long time either.

“Uhm, not really my scene, I guess.” You answer with an awkward smile. Harry’s friends ask you some more questions and you answer all of them, even cracking a joke here and there in between. It is nerve racking, especially since you are talking so much.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” One of the girls in the group—Dina, if you remember correctly—suddenly asks. You are glad that the group has divided into small sections a bit, and only another girl and guy will hear your answer.

Harry is chatting with his friends left from him, but once that one question leaves Dina’s mouth he checks out of the conversation. He knows the answer, of course, but he still wants to hear what you have to say.

“Nope.” You shake your head, and Dina nods.

“No one on the horizon?” She asks again, excessively glancing from Harry to you. The two others start to giggle and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Before you can respond, Dina continues talking in a slightly louder tone. “Because if not, I have a friend of mine I can set you up with. He is great! He’s somewhere around here actually, I could introduce you if you want?”

You suddenly feel a hand snake around your waist, and you already recognize who it is before you have proper time to process it. You worry about that; is it bad to be so familiar to ones’ touch?

“D’ya want to get a drink?” Harry asks, a bit more serious than you’re used to. You nod and excuse yourself from the conversation before letting Harry lead you to his car. His hand on the small of your back makes you have to restrain yourself from melting into a puddle.

You arrive at the car and wait for Harry to open the trunk. To your surprise, he lifts you up and seats you on it, before grabbing your already opened water bottle and taking off the cap. You take it from his hands and take a few big gulps, trying not to sweat profusely at the way he is looking at you, so concentrated.

“Having fun?” Harry asks you, and you look at him, nodding your head.

“Yes, you have nice friends.” You reply, your voice a bit breathy when you realize that his left hand hasn’t left your waist.

“You feeling good then?” He asks, tilting his head ever so slightly, and for a moment you feel like all the oxygen is sucked out of your lungs. He raises his brows a bit when you don’t respond to him—instead staring at him as if in a bit of a trance—and you have to regain yourself, nodding profusely.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.” You confirm again. He grins at that. You feel like you could be set on fire any second now. You hate yourself for the way you get when he’s so close like this. You haven’t really experienced this before with him, not with anyone actually.

“One of them already tried to set me up with some guy.” You say, hoping it would throw him off and grant you a little bit of space, but instead he comes closer.

“I heard.” Harry murmurs, eyes flicking from your mouth to your eyes, calculating your every reaction in case he gets any indication that you are not comfortable. But there isn’t, because you aren’t.

“Do you think that would be a good idea?” You ask in what could almost be classified as a whisper.

“Do you?” He touches your nose with his, and there is only millimeters left between your mouths. Your eyebrows furrow at the little gap there is left. You lean forward to press your lips against Harry’s but he pulls back ever so slightly, tutting you. Before you can even stop yourself, you let out the smallest whine that could almost be passed for a huff. Harry just smirks and leans in a bit closer again, brushing your lips over his. “Well…?”

“No.” You breathe out and push your lips against his, your hand around his neck, as if it would keep him even closer than he already is.

The weeks and weeks of tension between you fades away with every second that you kiss him. The way Harry’s hands have got a hold of your hips drives you absolutely crazy and you don’t think you have ever wanted something like you want him. It’s the first time your body takes over your brain and it suddenly makes sense; why people do stupid things for love.

If your crush on Harry—or however you want to define your feelings for him—already has you clamping against him as if his touch keeps you alive, you couldn’t imagine what a fool like you in love would do. But if this only feels half as good as the real thing, you aren’t so opposed to finding out.

Harry deepens the kiss and moves one of his hands to hold your face with it, and you become even more intertwined than before. Every sense of yours is occupied with him, and vice versa. Harry feels like he might have died and gone to heaven. Either that, or you are a fallen angel that he was lucky enough to encounter.

The sound of people cheering and a couple of honks breaks the both of you out of the spell you’re under. Upon pulling out from the kiss, you see the pick-up truck with all the people on it drive by as they cheer you on. And suddenly the realization hits you: you were making out with Harry in the middle of the street!

“Y/N… I—” Harry tries to get a word in but you don’t let him, because the sound of him addressing you by your name freaks you out.

“We should get back to the party.” You blurt out, trying to walk back towards the house.

“Y/N!”

You freeze at Harry’s urgent tone of voice, and the volume of it too. He has never sounded so stern before. You slowly turn around, terrified of what he’s going to say. Or maybe you are terrified because there is something you want him to say.

“We should talk about this, sunshine.”

You feel your insides twist. There is a happy surge that is waiting to make it to your brain, but that godawful, dreadful feeling gets the best of you; fear. A fear that overflows any happiness about resolving whatever is going on between the two of you. A fear that maybe this is all a game, and you can’t trust him like you want to, because you haven’t trusted yourself again from the moment you got drugged. So, instead telling Harry how you truly feel about all of this, you just shake your head in disbelief.

“I can’t do this.” You sigh a hopeless sigh, hands on your hips. You stare at the ground; there isn’t a realistic possibility in which you could look into his eyes right now.

“Do you want to go home?” He asks, and you respond with a nod. Harry shuts the trunk before walking over to the driver’s seat.

The second you step into the car, it falls silent between the two of you. You sit with your knees away from Harry, body towards the window. You listen to the radio music that is vaguely playing in the background.

Harry always puts on his own playlist, but he felt that wasn’t very fitting right now, so he just left the radio on. He tries to avoid giving into the heavy pit in his stomach, but it grows with every intersection and stoplight where once again nothing is said. It irks him that you are so silent and he would throw himself out the window if this is it. If he’s blown his chance.

Harry stops right in front of your apartment complex. You don’t even realize at first, and when you do, you feel your own body almost trying to keep you in the vehicle, urging your stupid mouth to open up to him, but you don’t. Harry does instead.

“I like you.” He blurts out before he even knows what he is doing. He feels his cheeks getting red as the sentence leaves his mouth. You freeze, and slowly turn to Harry, unsure what to make of his words.

“I like you, sunshine. As more than a friend, or a tutor, or whatever you want to call it. I have had a crush on you ever since that first project we did together.” He sighs, feeling like a big weight has already been lifted off his chest. “I’m not going to waste time by being vague or playing hard to get. So I’m telling you: I like you. You can do whatever you want the information, it’s up to you. I just needed you to know.”

You stare blankly at Harry. He feels himself getting nervous again. Did he forget to add something? No… right?

“S— so, that’s all. Have a good night, Y/N.” He adds on, looking away from her confrontational eyes and focusing on the empty road in front of him instead.

A scoff. A scoff leaves your mouth as you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. Harry’s heart drops; he messed this up. How did he ever think you liked him? He knew you were way out of his league. Why did he even try—

“No, you know what—” the car door slams shut and Harry looks to his right to see you sitting next to him again. Your face is on scary mode and he is quite intimidated by it, to say the least. “You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to give me coffee, and touch me and kiss me and make me all confused, and— this! And why are you suddenly calling me by my name?! You can’t just— do that!”

The faintest hint of a smirk appears on Harry’s face. He can’t think of anything else but how beautiful you look right now. That pouty, confusion filled angry face you have on.

“You’d rather have me call you sunshine?”

“That— That’s not what I meant— You are so annoying, you know that?!”

“Then what do you mean, sunshine?” Harry asks, tilting his head a bit. He is being a bit cocky; he likes seeing you struggle with this, but trying to communicate anyway. He’s proud of you. He feels like he knows you better than you think and he is aware that this is not easy at all for you.

“You— you just barge into my life with those caramel macchiato’s and flip everything I know upside down. And giving me that… nagging feeling. All the time!” You keep ranting, unaware of how amused Harry is because of it.

“Sunshine… are you trying to tell me that you like me back?” He wonders carefully. It is hurting his lips trying to fight them from forming into a smile.

“What?” You ask breathily, as if he’s caught on to you. Harry bites the inside of his lip and leans forward. There it is again, that nagging feeling.

His eyes trace down to your body and he carefully placed on of his hands on your stomach, then he looks back at you. He is almost as close as how he was before you two kissed, and your body immediately feels like it’s on fire again.

“That nagging feeling, do you feel it there? In your belly?” He asks you softly, and you could melt from just his words. You say nothing, do nothing. You just clench your jaw, unwilling to give into him. The reason why you are defying this is becoming vaguer and vaguer by the second, though…

“Because I do. I feel it all the time. Whenever you’re close, whenever you enter my mind. I’ve never longed for a stomach ache so bad in my entire life.” He explains to you, and your mind feels so clouded. You know exactly what he means.

“I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t trust this. But please, let me in. I wouldn’t think of letting you down. Ever.” Harry pleads, and your eyes flutter shut.

All you can smell now is his perfume ans all you can feel is him even though he’s not touching you all around. You lean forward, forehead against his. You both stay like that for a second or two, but when you open your eyes and his lips are the first thing you see…

You break.

Within seconds, your lips are back on his and you just know it was the right thing to do. There is nothing you love more than being close to him right now, and you are really relishing in the fact that that seems to have overshadowed your fears.

Your hands finds its way to his neck while one of his cups your jaw, keeping the both of you steady. There is so much passion in the kiss, and it feels so satisfying. It is why it’s almost impossible to pull away from him, but you do anyway.

“Do you want to come in?” You ask, out of breath. Harry’s mouth breaks into a wide smile as he nods.

“Yes, please.”

…

TO BE CONTINUED