#microwave door (to the rhythm)

[once-delight]

Well, Armand would obviously do the microwave.

If Loustat, Armandaniel (young Daniel), and Claudeleine went clubbing during the 2000s-2020s what popular dances could you see them doing? Armand and Madeleine I couldn’t picture doing any of the popular dances. If it were a ballroom dance or Latin dance sure, but just freestyling idk. We know Louis can get down so I bet he’d know nearly everything and Daniel would be doing those Fortnite dances. Claudia would probably know all of Beyoncé and the other female pop artists’ choreography and be a kpop fan so I could see her ending up in the middle of a dance circle at some point. Lestat being the performer he is would definitely have some go to moves and if there were a pole I could see him giving a whole performance.

I’m curious about what you guys think bc everyone’s perceptions of the characters are different and it would be fun to see what other fans think.

[vbecker10]

As Long as You Love Me

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: You've been Loki's only friend since he joined the Avengers and you are trying to hide your growing crush on him since you doubt he feels the same. One night, Loki accidentally catches you singing in the kitchen when you think you are alone and you let it slip that the song reminds you of him.

Warnings: Trying to go for fluff only but there is a little bit of Loki feeling like no one will love him after what happened with Odin, Laufey and Thanos

A/N: Do not judge me for this song choice... because I don't care lol. Every once in a while I still listen to the Backstreet Boys even though in my mid-30s. I thought the song just fit really well with Loki so here we are. Also, I needed something short and fluffy to get me out of my writing slump. Hope you all enjoy this 💚

Thanks @animnerd for letting my bounce this is off of you 💚

"Popcorn time," you say to yourself as you close the microwave in the common kitchen and push the popcorn button. The bag starts to rotate and you move to lean your back against the island as you take your phone out of your pocket.

"Nope, nope, nope..." you hit skip on the next three songs that shuffle through your Playlist unaware that you are no longer alone in the kitchen.

Loki walks into the room, a smile quickly spreads across his face when he sees you. "Hello Y/N," he says from a few feet behind you. His smile fades slightly when you don't respond but then he notices you're wearing your earbuds.

You hum, putting your phone down on the counter next to you as the next song starts, still not realizing that Loki is watching you. Raising the volume slightly louder, you drown out the sound of your midnight snack popping. You begin to lip sync, bopping your head with the rhythm of the song. As the song continues, you start to sing out loud without meaning to.

Every little thing that you have said and done

Feels like it's deep within me

Doesn't really matter if you're on the run

It seems like we're meant to be

I don't care who you are

Where you're from

What you did

As long as you love me

Who you are

Where you're from

Don't care what you did

As long as you-

The microwave beeps and you stop signing as you open the door and grab the bag. You turn back around and nearly drop your snack with a surprised yelp as you spot Loki standing on the other side of the island.

You take off your headphones quickly and he laughs as he apologizes, "Sorry, I tried to get your attention but you didn't hear me."

"You sure you weren't waiting there just to scare the crap out of me?" you joke and pause your music.

"If I was trying to scare you, you would know." He smirks, "Would you like me to show you?"

"Definitely not, I'm good, thanks," you laugh and shake your head, opening the bag.

"Stark is more fun to scare anyway," he says as he comes to stand next to you. "I had no idea you could sing," he adds.

You feel a bit confused then you realize you must have been singing outloud. "Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh. "I'm a horrible singer. I thought I was alone or I never would have subjected you to that."

"I liked it," Loki smiles genuinely.

"Liar," you taunt him and eat a few pieces of popcorn as you lean on the counter next to him.

He raises an eyebrow at you, "You know I never lie to you."

"So you're not a liar," you admit, knowing you are in fact the only person Loki never lies to. "But that just means we need to get your ears checked."

"I've never heard that song before," he changes the topic slightly.

"It's old-ish. I used to listen to it when I was a teenager," you tell him and he nods as he takes a handful of popcorn from the bag you're holding. "Do you mind?" you joke as you pull it away from him.

"No," he laughs, eatting the pieces he stole one at a time. "So why are you listening to it again?"

Without thinking, you answer, "It reminds me of you." You immediately look down at your feet as you shift awkwardly away from Loki.

"It does?" he asks and you can hear the surprise and confusion in his voice.

"Uh..." your brain tries to come up with a response but the only thing you can think of is the truth. "Yeah," is all you offer him as an explanation.

You can feel him shifting closer to but you don't look up at him, "Why is that?"

"Don't worry about it, it's just a stupid song," you try to end the conversation. "I've got to finish my laundry."

"If I'm not allowed to lie, neither are you," he reminds you and when you look up, you can tell you aren't escaping just yet.

You bite your lip and hope half of the truth will be enough to appease the God of Lies. "Okay... but just remember you asked," you sigh and he waits patiently for your answer. "Do you remember last month when we were talking about some of the stuff that happened before you joined the Avengers?"

He nods. It was a very long, difficult conversation that neither of you had planned on having. Loki had been acting more distant than usual all week and when you finally convinced him to talk to you, he opened up about how out of place and lonely he felt on Midgard. You tried your best to reassure him that the others on the team would become more welcoming to him once they got to know him better. He agreed half heartedly and followed up his comment by telling you that he barely deserved friends, let alone a partner after all he had done. You stayed with him most of the night, listening to all the things he blamed himself for and trying to remind him that none of what happened with Thanos was his fault.

"This song came on my Playlist randomly a few days later and I was thinking about the chours," you explain. "I don't care who you are, where you're from or what you did as long as you love me. It just kinda stuck with me that that's what you need. Someone who doesn't care that you're a Frost Giant from Jotunheim and knows that you didn't attack the city because you wanted to. Someone who accepts you for who you are."

"And where would I find someone like that?" he asks. His fingers gently stroke your cheek and you look up at him. He seems almost nervous as he smiles down at you.

You force a smile back through your nerves, "I've always accepted you Loki."

"I know you have darling," he says in a soft tone. The sudden use of the pet name makes you blush and when you try to look away, his fingers hook gently under your chin. Loki's eyes lock on yours as he says, "And I love you for it."

Your heart hammers against your ribcage as you try to process Loki's words. "You... what?" you ask, feeling shocked and confused and sure you misheard him.

He chuckles anxiously at your response, dropping his hand from your chin as you take a small step away from him, "I hadn't planned on you telling you this way..."

You stand in complete silence for a moment, trying to force yourself to admit to Loki that you've been in love with him for months. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out and Loki's smile fades completely.

"I understand that you don't feel the same, that's why I hadn't meant to tell you. Y/N, I don't want to lose your friendship, it means too much to me-" Loki's words are cut short when you put your hand on the back of his neck and pull his lips to yours.

In an instant, Loki kisses you back fiercely. His hands move to your lower back and he pulls your body flush to his as you drop the bag of popcorn but neither of you notice. After a few moments, you break from the kiss to catch your breath and let out a small giggle. "I love you too," you smile up at him, his hands still resting on your back.

"I was hoping that's what the kiss meant," he laughs then leans down to place a quick kiss on your lips.

You nod then rest your head on his shoulder, one of his hands moves to play with your hair gently. "That's my new favorite song," you say before placing a kiss on his neck and hugging him tightly.

"Mine too," Loki agrees with a light laugh.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mischief2sarawr @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @blackhawkfanatic @dracoswhorexx @anukulee @lovinglokilaufeyson

[seonghwaddict]

one more minute — choi san

in which you indulge in some midnight snacks and kisses in the kitchen.

bf!choi san x fem!reader. genre. established relationship. fluff. warnings. a little, tiny make out sesh but nothing else. wc. 0.6k.

lilo's notes. i’m a little sick so updates on both the event and nsn will be a bit slow. but anyways, here’s a little san drabble i wrote at 3 am :>

listening to. rises the moon, liana flores.

masterlist.

your eyes fluttered open to be met with darkness, the first thing you noticed was the arm draped around your waist. turning your head to look behind you, you caught sight of your dear boyfriend, san, sleeping soundly, his face lit by the dim moonlight seeping in through the gaps in the curtains.

silent snores left his mouth and you smiled, wondering how on earth you were lucky enough to call this perfect man yours. but the silent moment of admiring him was ruined when your stomach grumbled quietly, reminding you what you woke up for. after taking one last look at san and pressing a light kiss to his forehead, you wiggled yourself out of his grip without waking him up and walked down to the kitchen for some food.

you grabbed a paper plate and put a slice of pizza from the night before on it, placing it in the microwave. then you grabbed a mug, filled it with water and set it next to the paper plate before closing the microwave's door, pressing some buttons and starting it up.

a familiar arm wrapped around your waist from the back as san’s other arm brushed your hair away from your neck, nuzzling his face into it as he dropped the hand to wrap it around your waist as well. he placed gentle pecks on your neck and shoulder, nudging the fabric of your neckline to the side to access as much of your soft skin as possible.

you chuckled and turned your face to the side, your eyes meeting his soft brown ones. without averting your eyes, you turned in his grip and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug. he smelled faintly of peppermint and the shampoo you keep in your bathroom.

you pulled away from each other and he moved his fingertips under your shirt, his knuckles brushing against your sides. his touch sent sparks and goosebumps travelling through your whole body, a feeling you were well acquainted with.

“i love you," he whispered, lips brushing against yours.

you smiled, muttering a heartfelt, "i love you, too."

he leaned his face in and your lips connected in a kiss, moving in a slow and synchronised rhythm, lips slotting together like perfect puzzle pieces. instinctively, your hands travelled up and tangled themselves in his already messy chestnut locks of hair. his grip on your waist tightened, trying to close every remaining millimetre of space between your bodies.

he bit down on your bottom lip, his hands simultaneously gliding up and down your waist, fingertips brushing just beneath your breasts before dropping to your hips and squeezing twice. knowing what that meant with him, you jumped up and warped your legs around his torso, his firm hands supporting you under your thighs. as if you had done this multiple times before—which you have—he turned and set you on the empty counter behind him, standing between your legs.

you continued, your kisses turning desperate and bruising. but before he could take it any further, the microwave's timer rang and you pulled away with a mischievous smile and flushed cheeks. your boyfriend groaned as you inched your way around him and got off the counter to grab your food.

"baby," he whined, drawing out the last syllable, "just… one more minute?"

"i don't want my food to get cold," you laughed and took a bite of the pizza, a playful pout on your lips. "you’re very needy when you're tired."

"at least give me some of the pizza?"

you considered it for a moment before turning and walking to the living room with a broad grin. "i’m not your mom, you can get it yourself, love," you called over her shoulder, resisting the urge to giggly at his dumbfounded expression.

networks. @cromernet @blankjournal

taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu

[simpingforstardew]

lone star

pairing: sdv shane x reader

synopsis: stargazing w/ shane. this fic takes place ‘post-game’ (i.e., after the farmer receives the ‘key to the town’, and after shane begins therapy’). friends to lovers enjoyers rise up !!

warnings: angst, with comfort and fluff; descriptions of poor mental health, depression etc. stay safe. ♡

(this is crossposted from ao3).

word count: 1.9k

In the calm of the valley, the night sky stretches out in a breathtaking display: the stars shine proudly, their brilliance undimmed by city lights. Despite moving to Pelican Town four years ago, you're still awestruck by the vastness of the cosmos visible to the naked eye— a sight that would have been obscured by the city smog in Zuzu. Back there, spotting a single star was a rare blessing; seeing one that was not, in fact, just the mistaken dim glow of a passing helicopter was an even greater rarity.

Nestling your head into the sturdy hay bale beneath you, you inhale the earthy scent of dried grass mingling with the crisp night air. Above, the canopy of stars twinkles in a mesmerising dance, each constellation a story waiting to be told. Your gaze flits between the shimmering points of light, tracing the familiar patterns of the night sky.

Beside you, your loyal companion snores softly, a comforting rhythm that grounds you in the present moment. Absentmindedly, you stroke the sleeping dog's fur, feeling the warmth of their body against your fingertips. The bottles of pumpkin juice you had meticulously prepared lay forgotten on the ground, their contents untouched. Your large blanket, meant to shield you from the nocturnal chill, sits idle at your feet.

Despite the breathtaking beauty of the scene before you, a pang of guilt tugs at your heart. It feels almost selfish, you think, to bask in such a gorgeous view alone.

Without hesitation, you rise from your spot beside the barn, stretching your tight shoulders with a huff before swiftly leaping over the hardwood fence. Only one other person in town would be awake at this late hour, and you knew exactly where you would find him. You took a deep breath of the crisp air before making your way down the dirt road towards Cindersap Forest.

“Oh, sure– just let yourself in, I guess,” Shane’s gruff voice murmurs from the kitchen, “I can’t believe Lewis lets you keep that ‘Key to the Town’, fuckin’ bullshit.”

You lean against the door frame, a smirk tugging on your lips as Shane pulls out a steaming bowl of ‘JojaBrand™ Meal for One®: Pepper Poppers’ from the microwave. "Shh, you know you secretly enjoy my surprise visits, Shane," you tease, "Besides, I came over to ask you something."

“Well, are you gonna spit it out, toots, or do you plan on waking up the whole house for this announcement?” Shane grumbles, searching for a clean fork. Years ago, you found his standoffish demeanour frustrating– unfortunately for him, however, it only fuelled your desire to develop a relationship with him; to break down those walls he built up.

“I was gonna ask if you wanted to stargaze with me,” you smile, a genuine toothy grin. “It’s a nice night for it.”

Shane’s eyebrows shoot up momentarily as he hesitates, glancing towards you, “You seriously came over just to ask me that?”

“You don’t have to join me if you don’t want to,” you reply, chuckling softly as you push off the door frame and turn to leave, “Just figured we hadn’t caught up in a while.”

You hear a groan coming from behind you, followed by the clattering of a bowl being discarded on the kitchen counter. He had always had a soft spot for you.

“Yeah, yeah,” Shane sighs, “Lemme grab my jacket.”

The night air is crisp as you and Shane traverse the farm. The distant sound of crickets chirping provides a soothing backdrop to the quiet countryside, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Shane walks behind you, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his well-worn jacket; his posture stiff and guarded as always.

As you reach your spot by the barn, you unfurl the blanket and settle against the hay, gazing up at the expanse of stars above.

"So, how've you been, buddy?" you offer Shane a bottle of pumpkin juice, noting the tension in his shoulders. "Feels like I haven't seen much of you lately."

Despite Shane's usual standoffish demeanour, there is a subtle shift in his presence as he lowers himself onto the blanket beside you and grabs the juice. His shoulders relax ever so slightly, and for the first time in a long while, there is a hint of vulnerability in his gaze as he turns his attention skyward.

“I’ve been… I don’t know. Good.” Shane's voice trails off as shifts his gaze to the bottle in his hand, his shoulders slouched while his words hang heavy in the air. He drops his head against the rough surface of the hay bale behind him.

Glancing towards him, you note the furrow in his brow and the tension in his shoulders; his strong features illuminated by the moonlight. You resist the urge to press him further, allowing a comfortable silence to settle between you.

Lost in contemplation, you find solace in the vastness above.

After what felt like an eternity, Shane spoke up once more: his voice barely above a whisper.

"Any time I go shopping, like at Pierre’s or when I used to restock the shit they sold at JojaMart, I’d always feel like I’m in the way, y’know?” Shane confesses, his gaze fixed on the black velvet of the night sky. “As if someone is gonna be blocked off by me. And I know it’s not just 'cause I'm a big guy, doll, because then I leave the shop and realise that I still feel like I’m in the way.”

“Do you feel like that now?” you probe, allowing your gaze to drift towards him.

“Kinda, yeah. I always feel like that, I guess,” Shane admits, his voice tinged with resignation. He takes a swig of his juice. “Like I’m some kind of… rock stuck in a stream, with everybody else on planet Earth barging ahead around me—or some other flowery metaphor Elliot’d come up with, I don’t fucking know.”

“Is therapy helping with that feeling? Seems to me like you’re really making progress, if that means anything.” you reply, too enamoured with the contours of his side profile to notice the way his pinky finger locks with yours on the plush blanket. A promise of vulnerability.

“Sorta, but there's a pressure there as well, y’know? Gotta be happy all the time now, otherwise what was it all for? I don't even have a job anymore, I just... I’m just worried that…” Shane pauses, his fingers absentmindedly plucking at the hay behind him, “…Ah, forget it.”

“Worried that what?” You turn to face him, the spectacle of the cosmos long-forgotten.

“It's just that… what if my addiction; shitty personality; tendency to lie about the most basic crap to see people’s reaction; awful sense of humour; impulse to fall in love with someone if they’re nice to me; horrid fashion sense; inability to take a photo of myself smiling: all that crap… are all irrefutable? What if I was doomed to—”

“Shane, don’t—”

“I’ve tried… I’ve tried so hard every day of my life, (Y/n).” Shane's voice cracks, “I just… don’t wanna be a screw-up anymore.”

"Shane, you are not a screw-up," you demur, reaching out a hand to stroke his soft bicep, "You're just… human. You've already taken huge steps by just acknowledging your screw-up-ness and reaching out for help. And yeah, you have been trying, every single day. That's bravery, Shane. That's strength! I'm tired of you being the only one who doesn't see that."

The following silence is only interrupted by the distant chirping of crickets. Shane's eyes wearily scan your face for some kind of tell, as if your response was an inauthentic prank meant to lull him into a false sense of security. The bags under his eyes are shadowed and heavy. Your heart swells. “Repeat after me—”

“(Y/n), please—” pleads Shane.

“Mister Shane Andrew Miller, repeat after me!”

“Yes, Ma'am,” He chuckles, wiping away a stray tear.

“I, Shane, am a strong, brave, and amazing person; and I am going to be okay.”

“I’m a strong, brave, amazing person… and I'm gonna be okay.”

“Louder!”

“I'm gonna be okay!” He shouts— hands cupped around his mouth to bellow into the sleeping farm. After a nervous chuckle, Shane resigns to a slouch as he looks towards you with a blush warming his cheeks.

“Feel a little better?”

“I feel like a jack-ass,” Shane mumbles,“But yeah, a little.”

“Good,” you reach your hand out to caress his cheek, your thumb tracing patterns in his stubble when he leans into the touch, “and you only looked a little like a jack-ass.”

“Fuck off,” Shane laughs, the banter bringing a familiar light to his eyes, as he shoves your hand away playfully.

You both stay like that for a moment after the laughter dies down, embraced by the warmth of each other's silent company— one of you occasionally turning to retell the latest town gossip, or reference an inside joke neither of you can remember the origins of.

“I should, uh, be heading back now,” Shane moves to stand up, groaning as he stretches his legs, “Penny's taking the kiddo to the community centre tomorrow for some arts and crafts, and I gotta be up early to pack her lunch.”

You look up at his looming form, only now realising how long you had both been out here for.

“Of course, no worries,” you clumsily rise to your feet as your lips quiver with a tentative grin, a delicate curve that hovers on the precipice of expression. “Um, tell Jas I say ‘Hi’, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Shane replies, the awkwardness palpable, “Night, (Y/n),”

“Goodnight,” you raise your hand in a half-hearted wave as you watch his slouching figure turn to leave.

He makes it a couple steps, barely out of reach, before a surge of courage propels you forward. Reaching out to grasp the sleeve of Shane’s frayed hoodie before doubt can inhibit your impulsion, you pull him towards you.

Your lips crash on his in a rush of fervent emotion. One of Shane’s calloused hands instinctively rises to the nape of your neck; the other wraps around your waist as he pulls you closer, desperately. Bodies flush against each other as his fingers tangle in your hair.

A tingling sensation runs through your body. You reach up to gently cup his face as he deepened the kiss, his trembling lips continue moving against yours with a gentle urgency. In this moment, nothing else matters - no worries or fears, no past or future, no moon or stars.

Your heart races as you both pull away.

“To be clear, if this is, like, a pity thing or whatever,” Shane mumbles, his lips tickling your own as he attempts to catch his breath. “That’s um– that’s fine by me, I don’t… I wasn’t expecting this.”

“No that wasn’t… um,” You rest your forehead on his, closing your eyes as you attempt to calm your frantically beating heart, “I just… wanted to kiss you.”

Shane laughs as he brings both hands to your face, cupping your cheeks as he kisses you once more. This was different, however: gentle, soft, yet just as vulnerable. You look up at him, eye’s shining with the light from the stars, as you admire the softness of his usually stern features.

“You were right, this was a nice night to stargaze.”

[rambosgirl]

Mesmerized - Logan Howlett x ballet dancer!reader

Summary: You need to break in your new pointe shoes, which leads to Logan catching you dancing in the kitchen in the middle of the night (takes place during the original trilogy, I specifically thought of the first or second movie)

For an elevated experience, I would listen to Tchaikovsky while you read (the one below is pas de duex) OR I personally would listen to Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses theme - don't judge me until you listen to it

If there was anything you hated about ballet, it was this.

You stood in your room, dressed for a late-night practice session in a leotard and shorts when you remembered your pointe shoes were pretty worn. Apparently, your brain underestimated just how worn out they were.

It had barely been four weeks since you started using your current pointe shoes, but they looked like they had been through a hurricane - no surprise, considering how often you used them.

As you held a borderline unusable pair of pink shoes in your hands, you contemplated waiting until tomorrow to fix this mess so you could practice.

No, you didn't want to run the risk of people seeing you dance. You hated the idea of someone seeing you. It's why you didn't audition or perform, even though you could. The only people you were comfortable watching you dance were Charles, Jean, and Ororo. Even then, your shyness often got the best of you and you often cut those sessions short.

You were too shy and stubborn to wait for tomorrow, you concluded.

Luckily, you had a stash of brand-new pointe shoes in your closet for times like this. You picked the ones you wanted from your closet and began the process you knew well, one that would likely look insane to other people. You put a cloth over the box part of the shoe, and stood on it, pressing your weight down from your heel to widen them. Content with your work so far, you picked them up again, sat on the floor, and started to bend the heel portion back and forth, carefully avoiding the center. You smiled at the satisfying crackling sounds that came from each shoe as you worked them.

Now for the mentally insane part.

You grabbed both shoes and started smacking the tips of the toes together, making a thudding noise every time. Halfway through, it occurred to you that it was getting late. You shifted your eyes to your clock - 12:49 am. Oops.

Well, it was too late to back down now, and plus, your door was closed. You continued your assault on the shoes until they made a nice, softer thud when you tapped them on each other. Perfect.

The next step in your process was to actually wear the shoes and dance in them a bit, but you had a slight setback. Your room was carpeted.

Charles was in the middle of designing a dance studio so you could teach at the school, but it was just that right now. A design.

'I'll just see if anyone's in the kitchen,' you thought, quickly grabbing your inserts and new shoes. You silently made your way to the kitchen, relieved when you found it empty, bathed in the blue light from the microwave and oven clocks. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. Plus, you didn't want to turn on lights and accidentally wake someone. If you haven't already.

You sat on the kitchen floor, slipping on your inserts, then your shoes. You stood, testing your pointe one foot at a time before going to both feet, testing your balance with a few steps.

Stretching, you felt the shoes give a little, molding to your movements. Soon, you lost yourself in the familiar rhythm of your warm-up, the quiet shuffle of your feet against the smooth kitchen floor the only sound.

You slowly transitioned from warm-ups to full movements. Each step, every rise to your toes was precise, your muscle memory taking over and guiding you through different steps.

Logan woke with a start, drenched in sweat. He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about, but his adamantium claws stabbing his mattress told him it wasn't good. He glanced at the alarm clock by his bed - 1:03 am.

There was no way he was going back to sleep. His heart was pounding, his mind too chaotic to be put to rest.

That's how he found himself wandering aimlessly through the mansion in nothing but a pair of sweatpants. He turned to go down another hallway, but a tapping noise caught his attention. He hesitated, using his senses to figure out where it was coming from.

The kitchen.

He started towards the rhythmic tap-tapping with a newfound energy, his sharp instincts pulling him closer to the kitchen.

He paused when he reached the doorway, his brows furrowing as he took in the sight. There you were moving with effortless grace and fluidity, he wondered how it was even possible. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, staying in the shadows to observe you quietly.

Logan's eyes narrowed, studying you. Your movements were somehow relaxing to him, you just looked like you were completely enveloped in your element like this was how you normally moved.

With a deep breath, you began a series of fouetté turns. Your arms swept out as you spun, your leg whipping around each turn, propelling you in a perfect circle. Your movements were sharp, yet controlled, balance unwavering as you transitioned from one turn to the next.

You gradually let the turns slow, your momentum dying out as you shifted your body into an arabesque, extending one leg behind you as your arms reached forward, forming a perfect line.

You paused in that position, your muscles stretching in a familiar burn before you moved to start a pirouette. You lifted your leg and started the turn, the rotation smooth, like second nature. You ended the spin in a deep plié, the tension in your legs releasing as you sank closer to the floor, only to rise again, light as a feather.

You released a breath as you stood normally, moving to take your pointe shoes off. Your mind was busy, thinking about what you did good and what you wanted to work on. So busy, that you didn't notice the man who had been watching you from the shadows smirk and walk away.

You woke up later than usual the next morning, your tiredness from last night evident in all your features. After a half-hearted attempt to tame your hair, you gave up and threw it into a messy bun. Your oversized hoodie swallowed your frame, covering your shorts completely, and you pulled your favorite throw blanket around your shoulders like a shawl as you shuffled down the hall toward the kitchen. Food was the only thing on your mind, your stomach reminding you about it every 30 seconds.

As soon as you got to the kitchen, you went straight to the cabinets looking for your one true love: cereal. Its usual spot was empty. Frowning, you rummaged through other cabinets in hopes that someone just misplaced it.

"Scott, if you took the rest of the cereal," you mumbled, "I will shove my pointe shoes so far up your -"

A throat cleared behind you.

You froze, turning slowly to see who just witnessed your plotting against Scott. You really hoped it wasn't Scott.

You didn't recognize the man casually leaning against the wall, smirking at you with his arms crossed.

"You know, if I knew this place came with free ballet performances at midnight, I’d have moved in sooner," he drawled, his voice thick with amusement.

Your face warmed. "Wait what?"

His smirk widened as he pushed off the wall and took a slow step toward you. "I saw you last night. The kitchen floor is an interesting stage for a ballerina."

His eyes never left yours as he walked closer, your shock and embarrassment slowly sinking in.

"I didn't think anyone would be up," you said, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie, looking down, "and I've never seen you around before."

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stopped right in front of you, his presence towering over you as your back pressed lightly against the counter.

"Logan."

You looked up at him, almost right above you with how close he was.

"What?"

"My name," he clarified, the tension between you rising, "It's Logan."

"Well Logan, like I said, I didn’t realize I had an audience," you half-whispered, refusing to look away for even a second. You could feel the heat from his body, the subtle scent of leather and cigars drifting from him, making it hard to focus on your words. "I don't usually have people around when I dance," you admitted, your breath shaky.

"Well, I guess I'm just lucky then," he said, his voice dropping lower. "Couldn't keep my eyes off you."

Your mouth parted slightly, taking in the meaning of his words. Your face got impossibly warmer.

Logan clearly enjoyed the effect he was having on you, but it was time to shake things up, he thought. You were starting to look like a deer in headlights.

Almost as quickly as it had formed, the tension broke as Logan pulled back slightly, though he didn’t fully retreat. "Anyway," he said, his voice shifting back into that low, gruff tone, "you look like you could use some breakfast."

"I was thinking the same thing, but Scott had other plans." You rolled your eyes.

"I can beat him up for you," Logan quipped.

"I was gonna do that," you laughed. Logan just raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.

“Tell you what,” he said, heading toward the fridge. “Sit tight. I’ll whip up something better than cereal, save you from committing a crime and getting killed by Scott.”

You chose to ignore the second part, surprise taking over your features. “You cook?”

Logan gave you a sideways glance featuring a raised eyebrow as he pulled out some eggs and milk.

"It would be just embarrassing if I couldn't manage something as basic as scrambled eggs," he said with a small scoff as if offended.

His eyes met yours again, that playful glint back in full force. “But don’t get too used to it, ballerina. It’s a one-time deal.”

You smiled at his teasing. "Sure. One-time deal."

Hope you all enjoyed my first Logan fic! This idea has been floating around in my head for a while :)

I got the pointe shoe info from here and the dance move info from chat gpt because I'm not a dancer lol

[marleyybluu]

Oscar Diaz x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Content warning: swearing, readers (now ex/husband) is still a piece of shit, Oscar gets a little protective, another half ass ending cus I ran out of words, lmk if i miss any. another untitled one cus i suck.

A/N: this is not necessarily part 2, I guess it could be read as a stand alone… idk lol. But this is a part of the 'Another Man’s Treasure' universe.

(I think I've used this picture before but oh well. not mines though)

You let out a heavy, exasperated sigh after turning your car off. Another long shift at the hospital had kicked your ass, you had no energy, just ready to take off your scrubs and dip yourself in a hot bath. Thank goodness your kids would be with their father this weekend, you just needed a break. You decided not to sit and rot in the car as usual, you grabbed all your things and carried them to the door. You unlocked your door and turned the knob pushing your way inside and immediately noticed something wrong.

You look over at the shoe rack and notice your kids' shoes still sitting in their spots, you close the door and your eyes dart in confusion. "Naomi... Malakai... Nathan." You cautiously called out, the sound of their feet thumping against the carpeted floors upstairs, you dropped your belongings and waited at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hi, Mommy." Your youngest greeted. "Hi, guys, what-what's going on? You're going to Dad's this weekend. Who's watching you? Grandma?"

Naomi shook her head. "Oscar, we called him to pick us up."

"Yeah, dad didn't show up." Nathan chimed in. Your blood boiled, your nostrils flared in hot anger. This was his second time missing pick-up, you could excuse him for being late and that was you being generous but completely disregarding your agreement was not only disrespectful of you but of your children. Your children who are always so excited to see him and tell him about their week at school, your children who write a list of things they can do with him in the short span of 72 hours. Your eyes softened at them. "Why didn't you call me? You know I would've dropped everything for you guys."

They shrugged. "We didn't want you to get mad."

"Mad?? You guys this is not your fault, are you kidding? Look, just... head back upstairs, I will call your father. Okay?"

The three of them nodded and jogged back to their respective rooms. You took your hair down from its ponytail and scratched your scalp, freeing it from its current state of stress, you groaned walking into the kitchen to see a pile of dishes in the sink and spilling onto the counter. You were not getting to those tonight, way too tired. You heard the whistling of a familiar tune coming up the stairs of the basement, Oscar flicked off the light and stopped whistling when he noticed you, he presented an uneasy smile on his face. A bit scared that you'd be mad he didn't call you when the kids' dad didn't show up. But you tilted your head and smiled earnestly at him.

"Hi, baby." Sleep was very apparent in your voice. "Hola, mi amor." He stretched out his arms and you fell into them, your head resting on his strong chest, his heartbeat against your ear you close your eyes as the hypnotic rhythm brings you a bit of peace. He kissed the top of your head. "How was your day?" You asked. He chuckled. "Good, I missed you though. Made you some food, did the laundry, and I'll do the dishes soon."

"No, it's okay, I'll do them tomorrow morning." You foolishly protested, still not used to having someone else actually do some chores. He sucked his teeth. "No, you won't because they'll be clean by tonight."

You smiled. "Thank you." You whispered. "It's just dishes baby."

You pull your head back to look up at him. "You know what I mean. Thanks for... taking them. Ugh, in my next life, I'll know not to choose an idiot to be the father of my children." Oscar let go of you so you could fish for your dinner, you popped open the microwave to see a plate prepped and ready for you, all you had to do was heat it up. While the buzz of the microwave continued in the background you pulled out your phone from your back pocket, you dialled your ex-husband's number, your nails tapping impatiently on the counter waiting for him to answer.

"Hey, you know what to do." Beep.

You hung up and called again, if he wanted you to act out, oh you'd act out.

On the fourth call attempt, you finally heard noise on the end. "Hello?" He sounded groggy like he'd just woken up. Oh, poor thing.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

He yawned. "What are you talking about?"

You scoffed beginning to pace back and forth in the kitchen you peaked past the arched entrance to see if you had any little listening ears before you let the words fly out of your mouth like a sailor, when it came to him your words were unlady-like. "What the fuck am I talking about? You know, I threw you a pity party by agreeing to shared custody when God knows I could have full, I expect you to hold up your end of the bargain you fucking asshole."

You could hear the amusement in his voice like getting you riled up got him off. "I can't do it this weekend, I told you."

You gritted your teeth remembering his excuse and you telling him that you didn't care. "Oh, yes, how could I forget? Poor you, you can't go out with the boys if you have responsibilities. Meanwhile, I take my children everywhere I go."

"Unless your little boy toy watches them."

"And yet, he's still doing a better job than you." You bit. "Look," You took a deep breath. "Us separating was hard enough on them, don't make this harder by not fulfilling the one thing you're required to do."

He could be heard soughing dramatically, and if you knew him well enough he was rubbing his eyes with frustration crawling under his skin. "Fine, I'll come get them tomorrow."

"Good." You hung up and tossed your phone on the counter with attitude. Your fingers found their usual spot on your temples, you rubbed them with stress written all over your body. This divorce was supposed to make everything easier, no contact with each other unless it involved your kids and yet he was still getting under your skin. A reassuring hand rested on your back. "Go sit, I'll bring the food."

"No, it's-"

"If you tell me no one more time we're gonna have a problem." A playful warning but a warning nonetheless. You put your hands up in surrender and follow his instructions going to the dining room to sit and wait for him. It didn't take long for him to pop up with your food. You looked up at him with puppy eyes and pursed your lips, he leaned down planting a kiss. "I'm gonna get your pyjamas out and get your stuff ready for bed."

You cooed, "You have no idea how much I love you."

He smiled pridefully. "I love you too, ma."

— —

6 PM.

You checked your phone just to make sure, and yeah, it was 6 p.m. The bright and burning sun was disappearing behind the horizon, the orange and pink hue replaced the blue sky, it was getting darker by the minute and he was still a no-show. Your phone was pressed against your ear as you took a peak at your kids as they sprawled out on the couch watching a movie with Oscar, you smiled softly. "You really don't mind? I'm not trynna get rid of them or anything but their bags have been packed since last night and I just feel so bad." You explained to your mom on the phone.

Oscar turned his head in an attempt to eavesdrop on your conversation. Naomi snuggled herself closer to him, he kissed the top of her head, he'd ask you what happened later.

"Okay, thanks mom, I'll let them know."

You left your phone on the counter and joined your family in the living room with a presentable smile on your face. "Who wants to go see grandma?" They all turned their heads, smiles stretching from ear to ear. "She'll be here soon, you can finish the movie don't worry." They nodded and turned back to the screen, their little bodies wiggling with excitement and anticipation, they loved your mom, she let them get away with anything.

Oscar was still looking at you, you blushed sending him an air kiss and he winked in return. He was first on the to-do list once your gremlins were gone.

Half an hour passed and there was a knock at the door, Malakai was the first to run to the door to let your mom inside. They greeted her before running upstairs to get their belongings. "Thanks again Mom."

"No problem and you two are okay with me dropping them off at school on Monday?"

You nodded. The three musketeers came back downstairs dropping their bags on the floor to hug, kiss and say goodbye to the both of you. Naomi takes a longer time with Oscar's hug. "Can you carry me to the car?" You heard her whisper, he agreed and grabbed her bag taking her outside. And as you stood in the door frame watching him help her inside, all the anger you had from last night and today had seemed to thaw out. You counted yourself as lucky to have found a man who took care of your children as if they were his own, double the luck that they loved him just as much. , sometimes you'd have to pry Naomi off of him when he had to go to work.

Your mom honked her horn and you waved them off blowing kisses until they were out of your view. Oscar walked up the steps, hunched over and looking at you through his brows, you knew what was coming. "Diaz." You warned. He scooped you up throwing you over his shoulder, you squealed and giggled as he carried you into the house. He kicked the door close with his foot, "I'm bout to fuck you up." Such a pleasant threat, especially with the addition of him spanking you. You laughed breathlessly as he tossed you onto the couch, finding himself between your legs.

You cupped his face pulling him in, your lips melting together in a needy chase, his hands wandering your body, making their way inside your shirt. His fingertips tickling your bare skin getting closer... and closer to-

Knock! Knock!

For fuck sake.

"Ignore it." He groaned. You sucked your teeth. "They probably forgot something."

He sighed kissing you once more before you got up leaving him with his blue balls, you opened the door and the smile on your face vanished. "You're kidding. You are fucking kidding me."

"Oh, not happy to see me?" Your ex-husband smugged tilting his head. You were in disbelief, at the audacity of this man to stand on your doorstep with that stupid grin on his face as if nothing was wrong. "I'm not actually. Why are you here?" You asked crossing your arms. He chuckled. "To get my kids?"

Your eyebrows raised in shock. You looked down at your Apple Watch to make sure the time was correct. And it was. "It is almost 7 PM, what time were you supposed to be here?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

"It does fucking matter, Anthony! You said you'd be here at twelve, then you called at twelve saying you'd be here at two. Your children have had their bags packed since last night!" You said raising your voice. You pinched the bridge of your nose. "They're not here. So you can go." You proceeded to close the door but he had quickly wedged his foot in the frame. You looked up at him. "Anthony." You warned, your nostrils flared. That was Oscar's cue to get up and see what was going on, he opened the door and stood behind you with a scowl on his face. Anthony rolled his eyes.

"You couldn't wait to move another man into my house huh?"

"And it's never been more peaceful."

He looked past the both of you. "Where are my kids?"

"They're out."

"Where?"

"Don't worry about it." You sassed. "They at your mom's? 'Cause I'll just go pick them up from there."

"You will not."

He took a step forward causing you to take one back. "Watch me."

Oscar stepped in the middle of both of you, sizing up Anthony. "Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?"

Now this was a side you'd yet to see of Oscar. In your many conversations of getting to know each other, he'd felt comfortable enough to inform you of his old life. How he was the leader of an infamous street gang, Los Santos, even showed you pictures. You never wanted to say it out loud, afraid you'd make him feel weird, but seeing him in his cholo attire, the gun tucked in his waist and his shirt lifted up or sometimes off... oh it did something to you. You'd never ask him to delve back into his old ways, but you'd have little fantasies about what he used to be like.

Aggressive.

Rough.

Possessive.

"Nobody's scared of you. Some little bitch from Fiji, you just got here, don't know shit about shit."Anthony challenged, but you knew him well enough. He'd never been in a fight his whole life, you could put a gun next to him he'd piss his pants. Oscar half smiled taking another step forward. Anthony stepped back.

"I may have just got here but at least I know how to pick up my kids on time."

Your heart skipped. My kids.

"Your-"

"I know not to fucking lie to their mother about what time I'm coming to get 'em, I know not to disappoint them because the look on their faces is heartbreaking."

Anthony stuttered backwards, further down the steps and closer to his car. "And I know, that if you go to their grandmother's house and fuck up their weekend, I'll knock your teeth down your throat, pendejo."

You could see your ex-husband swallow any comebacks he had tried to come up with, the slight fear in his eyes as they darted to you as a plea for help but you just crossed your arms and shrugged. You weren't gonna help him. "Get the fuck out my face," Oscar growled. Anthony scurried off so fast you swore you saw smoke under his feet. His tires screeched as he pulled out of your driveway and down the street.

Oscar came back inside, trailing off to the kitchen. You closed the front door and followed him like a lost puppy. He reached into the fridge for one of his Corona’s and popped off the top. You bit your lip. "¿Que pasa?" He asked bringing his drink to his lips. You shrugged. "I think that was a solid first meeting."

He laughed. "Me too."

You leaned over the counter dragging your nail from side to side. "Sooo... was that Oscar or was that Spooky?" He playfully rolled his eyes and looked away. "If I have to go back to Spooky for you, I'll do it."

Your heart fluttered. "Any time?"

"Mhm."

You walked over to him, gently grabbing his hand and guiding him over to the steps and up the stairs. "You think Spooky can show out for one night?"

He pulled his hand from you and smacked your ass.

"Absolutamente, mi amor."

if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

peace and love, see you in the next one🤙🏾

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit @skyesthebomb

tags who might be interested: @luxaphrodevotee

[guppygiggles]

Tickletober Prompt Day 5: "Favorite Tickle Setting."

What: October-themed tickle fluff!

Word count: ~2.4k

Universe: Sea & Sky AU

Who: Avery and Casper

Description: I am not really capable of drawing settings/backgrounds, so I decided to write a little fic for this prompt instead. It takes place in my favorite setting... Avery's lighthouse, of course! Casper introduces Avery and Finn to the concept of Halloween and gives Avery a much-needed tickling. This tickling is foot-centric, which normally isn't my thing, but I was in the mood for it today. Enjoy!

My fingers curled around the silky locks of Finn’s hair as his head rested in my lap, the glow of the television illuminating the three of us as we watched Hokus Pokus in Avery’s tiny living room.

With their first Halloween approaching, I figured it would be appropriate to introduce the pair to the holiday with one of my favorite movies, and both seemed to enjoy it; Finnegan babbled away with questions and giggled at the silly parts, while Avery grew quietly sentimental at the flickers of tenderness between Dani and her brother. As the scene with the bullies in the cages played and Max cheekily stole his shoes back, I was expecting a flurry of tittering from Finn – when I didn’t hear anything, I looked down. His head was heavy on my thigh, and his ribcage rose and fell with a predictable rhythm. 

“Hehe, had it been you in that cage, I believe I would’ve done a bit more than just steal my shoes back,” Avery joked – quietly, thankfully – as he turned his head toward me. 

I raised my eyebrows questioningly and motioned my head toward Finn. 

“Hurry back… I’m not done with you,” I quipped, yielding raised eyebrows and a shy grin from the cloud man as we parted ways. I took the short flight of stairs up to the kitchen as Avery took Finn down to his bed. 

A soft chuckle was Avery’s response, followed by a nod of confirmation. He gently lifted Finn’s legs just enough to slip out from under them. “I’ll take him,” he whispered, looping one arm under Finn’s knees and the other behind his neck, scooping up the sleeping merman and cradling him against his chest. “Why don’t you make us some tea, and I’ll be back in a minute?” His hushed voice was like a low roll of thunder. Finnegan cuddled closer, his ears fluttering in his sleep.

I stood, pressing my lips against the crown of Finn’s head – his wavy mess of hair smelled like driftwood. Then reaching up, I cupped the lowest curve of Avery’s head and rubbed gently with my thumb. 

Part of me wished Avery’s kettle was a fast electric one, but it had been hard enough to convince him to get a microwave; he disdained plastic. ‘If it can be made from anything else, it should be,’ he’d said, but after I’d burned enough meals using his conventional oven, he’d finally made a concession. I used it to check the time – just past ten. I watched steam begin to drift out of the kettle’s spout. My mind wandered back to the movie, and what Avery had said about it. My socked toes curled. I pursed my lips together. What a helpless position… suspended in a cage, feet dangling, shoes off… 

Living in a lighthouse had taken some getting used to, particularly concerning the stairs. Prior to moving in with Avery I expected to climb stairs once or twice a day; down to my car, and back up to my second-floor apartment. Now, my life revolved around stairs; up from the bedroom, down from the kitchen, up to the balcony, down to the front door. At least it was good for my legs. The change had been subtle, but since moving into the lighthouse, I noticed that I could push harder and coast farther when riding my skateboard. I wondered if Avery noticed. I wondered if he could feel the muscles of my legs when he massaged them with his big, soft doctor’s hands…

I shook my head. Tea. I was supposed to be making tea.

The kettle’s squealing whistle going from suggestion to demand snapped me back to reality, and I quickly took it off the burner. I poured a bit of water into Avery’s strawberry themed teapot, swirled it around, poured it out, then filled the pot and added the cinnamon tea Avery had been favoring lately. I turned toward the kitchen table.

The teapot plummeted toward the floor. How many times had I warned him not to sneak up on me?! I gasped as I braced for an assault of shattered glass and boiling water, but instead of a crash, I heard Avery’s relieved chuckle. His hands steamed as he set the teapot on the table. 

“Whew, close one. Are you alright?”

“Avery!” I cried in a mix of exasperation and relief. 

“Sorry, sorry!” He winced, hands out. “I didn’t mean to startle you, dewdrop. I was about to say something, but you turned before I had a chance.” 

“You’re lucky you’re fast! Are your hands okay?” I asked, my voice heavy with concern as I reached forward to touch his palms. They were as cool and soft as ever. 

He laughed humorlessly. “It would take a lot more heat than that to burn someone like me. I’m just glad you’re alright… You could’ve really gotten hurt if I wasn’t quick enough. I’m so sorry,” he said, his brow creased with regret. 

My flare of adrenaline cooled, and I smiled softly, cupping his face again. “It’s alright. I’m alright. Did Finn wake up at all?” 

“Heh, no… Ticklefish was out like a light.”

I took two teacups from the cabinet. “It sucks that he fell asleep before we got to the zombie part. He would’ve loved that. I guess we can watch the rest of it tomorrow.” 

I was about to pour the tea when Avery stopped me, his fingers resting on my forearm. 

“Would you like to drink this on the balcony? It’s clear tonight.”

+++

Growing up in the desert had made me accustomed to seasons that rarely felt like themselves, so I never failed to appreciate an October that actually felt like October; crisp, cool, and bursting with color as the leaves began to change. As I leaned back in the cushioned patio chair and stared out at the lights along the coast, cinnamon tea in-hand, I imagined what my first Halloween with Avery and Finn would be like; carving pumpkins, baking cookies, decorating and inviting friends over for a costume party, maybe. We’d never thrown a party in the lighthouse before, but I was sure Finn would love it – he loved spending time with our friends. We’d made so many since moving in together… More than I ever thought I’d have, given my reclusive nature. I shifted toward Avery, curling my legs up in the chair. 

“Do you want to have a Halloween party?” I asked.

“Here, in the lighthouse? It might get a little crowded. Who would we invite?” He sipped his tea, legs crossed elegantly as his eyes remained trained on the twinkling city lights.

“Hmm… Sunny and Dr. Lockhart, for sure… Maybe Sparky, Bori, and Niko? You know how much Arte and Tilly love dressing up, hehe… There are a handful of others I can think of, too. Do you think that would be too many people?”

“Well, we might be able to make it work, however… I think another venue would be more comfortable. Parties can get overwhelming for some – our guests should have space to step away, if needed.” 

I was quiet for a moment, thinking. We could always suggest it to one of our friends, but I didn’t like the idea of imposing… or making them feel the need to prepare and tidy up, afterwards. 

“Oooh! What about at the park? We could set up a projector and a screen and have a movie night there!” 

Avery giggled. “I think that’s a splendid idea. I’ve never been to a party, this should be fun! I’ll help with whatever you need, just say the word.”

“Well, actually… there is something I need.” I set my teacup down on the patio table. “I need it right now, though.” 

He turned toward me, his eyes inquisitive in the dim light. “What’s that?” 

I angled my chair toward him.

“Ahh- R-right now?” 

“I need those pretty cloud feet in my lap, please.”

I watched those inquisitive eyes widen, accompanying a blue flush I could just barely see in the dark. He jolted slightly, nearly spilling his tea. 

“Yes, right now.” I patted my lap, grinning. “I’m not gonna be able to get you later, since Finny is asleep… and you're not the least bit quiet, are you? I bet you thought I didn’t even notice your cheeky comment, earlier… you should know better by now.”

Avery set his teacup down and angled his chair in my direction… slowly shuffling his socked feet out of his slippers. 

“You know, when I said that… I was envisioning you in this position,” he playfully complained, lifting his legs and placing his feet on my thighs. 

I snickered. “I know what you were envisioning… but that doesn’t mean I’m going to simply give it to you… at least, not without making you earn it, fluffy.” 

Avery squirmed in his seat, a warbled grin already forming on his lips. I pinched the tip of his right sock, slowly pulling it off – his delicate toes twitched in the chilly night air. The elemental’s feet were big, pillowy, and softer than sin; like the rest of him, they were a tickler’s dream. I placed a fingertip on his blue-tinged heel and stroked lazily up his silky arch, all the way to his toes. 

He stifled a giggle, his hips twisting in his chair as he struggled to stay still. It had been a few days since I’d tickled him seriously, and the desensitization was apparent in his reactions; his movements were a hot spark landing on parched kindling, and I was immediately engulfed in a fire of ler rage. 

I tugged on his left sock, watching the fabric drag across his marble skin. Even this seemed to tickle him, because although I couldn’t hear any more laughter, he couldn’t keep still. 

“Ohohoo nooo… what’s thisssss? What’s wrong, Dr. Nimbus…? I can hear you giggling, what’s so funny…?”

“C-Casper… c-come on…” He whimpered, lowering his face into his hands.

“Look at these big, pretty feet of yours…” And they were – they were gorgeous. As I stared at his soles, I hardly knew where to start. He flexed his cornflower toes gently, and I was happy to take the suggestion. “Tell me… is the illustrious Dr. Nimbus ticklish on his pretty feet…?” I began pinching and wiggling his right toes, rolling their tips gently between my thumb and forefinger. 

“GG-EEhehe!” He tried to hide it, but his giggling was completely helpless. Despite the squirming of his body, though… he actually did manage to keep his feet still!

“Awwww, does someone have ticklish toes…? Does it tickle when I do this to you, sweetheart? I already know you’re blushing like crazy under those hands, so there’s no sense in hiding it from me…” 

Starting at his heels again, I applied just the tips of my fingers, scribbling right up into the curves of his delicate arches. No more shy titters, now; Avery really laughed. 

“EEEAhaHAHAhahahaa!” His toes went crazy, curling and wiggling and flexing as I tickled his soles, but his feet did not budge, even as he laughed into his hands. 

A fluster so strong I nearly whimpered stirred in my belly; God, he was cute. I could tickle him all night on that balcony, surrounded by nothing but the ocean’s waves and his gleeful laughter.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle~! Gosh, you’re so flushed not even your hands can hide all of it! Come on, won’t you put them down so I can see that smile of yours?” My fingers continued to gently scratch his arches, working up to the sensitive balls of his feet.

“P-PLehehehease C-ahahahahasper!” 

“Please Casper what?” I giggled, leaning down to kiss his toes – first the left set, then the right. This made his laughter squeaky and embarrassed, causing him to squirm harder.

“Come on, thunderhead… put your hands down, before I have to really tickle you… coooooochie coochie coooo~ I’m gonna tickle these feet alllllll night, Avie…”

In a huff, Avery finally put his hands down, revealing a face that was almost completely blue. As I crawled my fingertips up his soles and nestled them into the silky ridges beneath his toes, he threw his head back, laughing uproariously into the night sky as his shoulders relaxed, giving in to the sensation.

“EEEEHEHHEHE PLEHEHEHEASE~!”

“There we go! Ohhhh, look at you! Awww, look who’s laughing so hard from a little tickling on his feet! Tickle, tickle! Laugh for me, handsome…” 

And he did; deep, thunderclap-like belly laughs boomed out from the elemental as I let my fingers dance all over his squishy, delightfully sensitive feet. His skin began to glow in the dark that surrounded us, and I could see white sparks of light beginning to fizzle and pop around the border of his head like a freshly-lit sparkler… a private fireworks show, just for me. 

I drew this out for a good while, teasing, tickling, and playing with his feet until I could tell he was starting to get tired, his laugh taking on a slightly hoarse quality as a single tear slid down his flushed cheek. I slowed to a stop, my hands forming gently around his feet and massaging them soothingly. 

“Are you alright, ticklish?” I asked tenderly, gently kneading my thumbs along his arches. He groaned softly as he caught his breath. 

“Oooh… whew… yes, hehehe… goodness, you really got me… ahhh, that felt really nice – it’s been a few days since I laughed so hard.” 

He smiled at me, then – the big, giddy smile of someone who’d just been tickled to hysteria. My heart melted, and I had to fight the swell of emotion gathering in my throat; to say I adored him was an understatement. As I finished rubbing his feet, I put his socks back on them and let him return them to his slippers. 

“Avery, for once… you look more tired than I feel.”

“Hehe, you wore me out! It’s a lot of work producing all that electricity, you know,” he giggled, standing. “It’s starting to get cold, and late… I think I need a soft, warm… ticklish human to share my bed with. Know anyone who might be up to the task?” 

I stood, too, wrapping my arms around Avery’s waist. As he returned my embrace, I felt his soft fingertips gently tickle down my back, making me giggle against his lips as I kissed him. 

“I have a few ideas… but if you make me wake the fish up, you’d better be prepared for round two.” 

[tired-biscuit]

istg what I wouldn't give to ride Kiba after having a horrible day

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // established relationship, domestic comfort.

wc: 1.9k

coming home to find him dressed in sweatpants and manspreading on the couch; looking warm and cozy and just so… boyfriend.

he greets you with a lazy grin and a little ‘hey, babe’ when he sees you locking the front door behind you, and after the day you’ve just had, he’s like a sight for sore eyes.

your bag lands with an audible thud on the floor; the shoes are quick to follow. keys get tossed to the side, as does the umbrella that you’d uselessly been carrying around the entire day for absolutely nothing since the weather app had decided to fuck you over. you’re tired, overstimulated in a sense, but completely sucked dry of any emotion at the same time.

the clothes you’re wearing feel overly tight on your body and the scarf that you had only just unwrapped from around your neck felt like it was choking you during the entire train ride home. it makes you want to gather them all up in a pile, pour gasoline over it and set it right on fire.

but now that you’re home, being greeted by your significant other — who looks so appealing after his shower, by the way — eases the discomfort a little bit. so you rush to get to him as fast as you can, shimmying out of your coat along the way, and dropping it in the middle of the hallway because you cannot even be bothered enough to hang it in its rightful place.

i mean, it’s not like it matters. one of you will pick it up later… probably.

and so, the soft pitter-patter of footsteps ensues.

despite watching you this entire time, kiba still lets out a little noise of startlement when you drop everything to collide with him and climb into his lap.

“aw… did my girl have a rough day?” he inquires playfully, smoothing down your hair when you finally stop squirming on top of him.

your arms wrap around his neck as you nod. “worst day ever, actually.”

“mm.” he gives you a moment while he considers the statement and how serious it is, offering you a chance to add more to it. but since you don’t, there’s a small pause before he asks, “wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“not really.” you blink, trying to ignore the weight that sits atop your eyelids. you’re just so tired and you feel so empty; work has been draining you like crazy. “maybe later.”

“okay,” is all he says, sensing that you don’t want him to push into the matter. “later, then.”

settled in, he strokes your back while he continues to watch the movie, listening and occasionally chuckling at the little sighs of displeasure that you keep letting out whenever he stops. his touch is loving and his palm is broad. it feels good whenever he drags it along the length of your spine that you’ve covered up with a thin white blouse. up and down — solace.

“i made dinner by the way,” he mumbles at some point. “it’s on the stove.”

“yeah?” this makes you perk up. food sounds nice; especially the promise of a warm meal that’s actually cooked instead of microwaved. “what did you make?”

“just some pasta. didn’t have time for somethin’ more fancy since i got off work later than usual, but i did make that sauce that you like.”

“ugh, thank you.” your gratitude shows in the way you rest your forehead against his shoulder and hug him tighter. “did you do the dishes too?”

briefly faltering, he says, “i loaded up the dishwasher… does that count?”

it draws a little laugh out of you. “lazy ass.”

“shush.”

you obey for once, deciding to stay quiet when he shushes you. long moments of comfortable silence pass once more; there’s nothing to fill the quiet except for the TV.

nuzzling into the crook of his neck so that you can hide your face from the world, you inhale that deep, almost spicy scent that is so unique to him and only him, before you press a gentle kiss right on top of his pulse point, disturbing its calm rhythm and urging it into something just a little bit faster.

for as long as you can remember, kiba has always been extremely responsive to you, even at the simplest of pecks aimed at his neck. but doing it one time isn’t nearly enough, so you tug on the collar of his t-shirt to get better access and kiss it again. and again.

by the fourth time, he feels the need to readjust in his seat and to wrap his hands around your hips.

“you trying to tell me something?” he mumbles, paying attention to how you drag your teeth over his sweet spot every so often now.

his eyes flutter shut at the sensation and squeeze when you part your lips wider and your teeth finally sink into the skin. the bite isn’t nearly as deep as the one he’d be able to give you, taking his sharp canines into consideration, but it does feel just as good nevertheless.

it makes his toes curl against the carpet and a deep exhale escape his mouth. his body tingles with growing warmth that starts in the pit of his stomach, slowly awakening and buzzing with what he guesses is lewd anticipation.

“no,” you reply, your voice slipping into something deeper; more sultry as you continue your ministrations. “just wanna kiss you a little bit… i missed you.”

the smile in his voice is as audible as ever as he says, “is that so?”

you suck on his neck extra hard in answer — it’s not strong enough to leave a hickey, but it does make his cock twitch in his underwear as blood rushes below his waist.

before he can say anything or act like a smartass, your fingers tangle into his hair. it’s thick and rich; the chestnut curls fill your hands as you slide them to the back of his head and tug at the roots.

a small grunt escapes him at that, planting a small kernel of pride within your chest which begins to bloom rather quickly. he leans back against the backrest of the couch, letting you touch him however you wish because he plans on doing the same.

his hands slip underneath your skirt, familiar and skillful. he bunches it up, causing wrinkles to appear in the fabric as he exposes your thighs, then your ass. he gropes the plush flesh then, squeezing and caressing; making the soft cotton of your panties stretch with the action.

the touching eventually makes you start to grind against him, and after spending so many years together, your bodies have learned to move as one during it. when he bucks his hips up, yours press down. when your back arches, his hand fills the empty space along the curve.

it’s as simple as breathing.

your feet are tucked underneath you and are propped on his knees, white thigh-high socks rubbing against his sweatpants. warm wetness pools between your legs as you rub your clothed pussy against the bulge that’s now become quite apparent despite the layers of clothes keeping you from each other. even your panties succeed in stimulating your clit.

you smile as you reach between you so that you can wrap your hand around the ridge of his cock and begin to stroke it the exact way he likes it.

meanwhile, kiba huffs and busies himself with kissing the small patch of uncovered skin near your collarbone. if you’re not careful, he might just end up ripping your pretty blouse so that his mouth and hands can reach your tits — lord knows it wouldn’t be the first time. he’s never been patient enough to work with so many dainty buttons, especially when he’s horny out of his fucking mind.

it’s the reason why you push him back against the backrest with the help of your fingers digging into his chest. why you kiss him gently when he looks at you with big, lovesick pupils and a prominent blush tinting his cheeks.

gosh, you want to marry this man.

“what’s wrong?” his exhale is laboured as he rasps the words, signature drawl instantly coming forward. his voice is so deep and riddled with want that it makes your pussy clench around nothing. you can’t wait to have him inside you.

“nothing’s wrong,” you reply, fingers working to unbutton your blouse. “i just wanna get this off real quick.”

“lemme help,” he says as he reaches for you, but you’re quick to slap his hand away.

“no, you’ll ruin it just like you ruined the last one.” another kiss is given, this time an apologetic one that’s aimed at his forehead. “just sit there and look pretty while i handle this, okay?”

surprisingly, he does. granted, he’s terribly impatient as he waits; you can feel his knee bouncing underneath you and his piercing stare burning holes into your face, but by the time the blouse and the bra are both tossed to the side, he’s been obedient enough to earn himself a reward.

“wanna sit on it now, ki,” you mumble, the corners of your lips twitching upwards again as you watch him suck your nipple into his mouth the second it’s exposed.

his nose smushes against the fat of your breast while his hand gropes the other, thumb swiping over the bud, making you even more sensitive than you already are since your period is about to pay you a visit soon. and as if that wasn’t enough already, whenever you feel the tips of his sharp fangs graze your skin, it sends exciting adrenaline coursing your veins.

“c’mon,” you insist, “you’ll get to do that later.”

he kisses your nipple softly when you push him back again, and blows on the saliva he’s left there so that he can watch you shiver.

it’s why he’s practically musing as he says, “okay, sweetheart.”

you work together so that he can pull his sweatpants low enough for his cock to become free. after a couple of more kisses and strokes, you use your own saliva instead of getting up to venture off for lube, and guide him inside you with the help of your hand, while his keeps your panties tucked to the side.

connected at long last, you both let out faint sounds of pleasure. it’s nice; warm and wet. it makes you want to kiss each other silly from how in love you are.

“you wanna take over or should i?” he asks, chocolate brown eyes glued to where your clit kisses his dark pubic hair now. besides dripping with your own arousal, you’ve also used so much spit that the hairs glisten with moisture. he thinks it’s hot as hell.

“mm, you do it,” you utter softly, sighing. “i’m too tired to even exist right now, much less ride you.”

“tsch… and then you have the nerve to call me the lazy one,” he teases with a click of his tongue against his teeth, but immediately wraps his arms around you so that he can bring you closer to his chest.

you let out a soft little whimper when he draws his hips back and ruts them into you slowly, making another wave of pleasure wash over your body, replacing the badness that was gathering throughout the day.

kiba is a good boyfriend.

you can trust him to rail the negativity out of you.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

Sing me a lullaby

---

Requested by: @alathan13

Content: Reader has a beautiful singing voice and calms down Miguel when he is stressed

Warnings: none

Word count: 1700

I heard this song yesterday and thought it was a perfect fit for this ask 💖

---

You could hear the wardrobe door close continued with soft sound of his feet shuffling inside the bedroom. You were seated outside in the living room aimlessly watching a television broadcast of a travel channel.

He emerged out to where you were as he put on a Tshirt, he spotted you on the couch and gave you a tired smile. You returned it but the pang in your chest grew as he walked away to the kitchen.

“Did you have something for dinner?”, Miguel asked from down the corridor.

“Yes.”, you responded.

“Ok.”, he replied as you heard the quiet click of the microwave door close proceeded by the timer beginning to chime.

You were sure he had taken a seat by the dining table to have his dinner because he didn’t come join you on the couch but for some time now, things had fallen back into a strained mundane rhythm. He was busy and when he wasn’t, you were.

The time you spent together had become lesser and lesser and you weren’t sure on how to fix it. To make time for each other but it made you feel frustrated that he seemed to be doing well without your company, while you were fraying at the edges.

Maybe he was losing interest. You tapped the remote on your thigh.

Maybe he had found someone else and is waiting for you to grow distant.

Or maybe he didn’t love you as you loved him. A lot of possibilities filtered through your mind when he emerged out to the hall again, wiping his hands on a towel.

“I did the dishes and put away the leftovers.”, he got closer to you, to place a kiss on your forehead, you sat there feeling the soft bliss of his lips touching your skin, but you knew this was just a formality. To make up for not having spent any part of the day with you, so your eyes remained on the boring screen while he took a step back to assess your reaction.

“Is something wrong?”, he asked tilting his head to the side.

“Nothing.”, you said changing the channel.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”, he chuckled nervously observing you as you switched off the television and got up, drowning the room in darkness.

“Right, I had forgotten you could see me.”, you said as you brushed past him.

He trailed behind you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, he sounded genuinely confused as you put away your earrings.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now.”, you mumbled as you undid your hair and settled onto the side of the bed.

“And go to bed angry? I don’t think so.”, he grew tense too.

“What did I do wrong?”, he asked and all you could do was shake your head in annoyance.

But glancing at him to see that he didn’t know what was going on made you sigh as you got under the blanket.

“Nothing.”, you said softly resting your back on the head rest, coming to understand that you were just taking out your frustration on him using baseless thoughts as a fuel to your spiral.

But he approached you and sat beside you, making the mattress dip into his weight, making you lean into his warmth or maybe you did that on your own.

He rubbed his hand on your back as concern filled his eyes. “cuál es el problema?”, he asked.

So beyond your self control, you leaned into his embrace as you tucked your head under his outstretched arm.

Burying your face into his T-shirt, inhaling the smell of his soap mixed with fresh linen, you let go of the thoughts plaguing your mind.

“Sometimes you seem to forget about me.”, you confided and waited for him to deny it.

To call you overdramatic or push you away or tell you, you were insane. Instead he exhaled forlornly.

“I know.”, he admitted.

“And I hate myself for it.”, he said as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’ve just been stressed.”, he said finally.

You peeled away from him to look at him.

“You know you can come talk to me right.”, you reminded him to which his eyes softened. His hand rising up to trace the rise of your cheek as he smiled empathetically.

“And burden you?”, he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Miguel.”, you shuffled under his hold.

“Is that any better than shutting me out?”, you asked in turn.

He sighed as he got to his side of the bed, your body missing his warmth the instant he moved away.

“I guess not.”, he frowned as if the sudden realization had made him unhappy.

But his eyes glimmered with an idea as he settled next to you. Instead of placing his head on the pillow he placed it on your lap.

His dark silky hair was a stark contrast against the pale colour of the blanket. You smiled at him as he gazed up at you. His eyes alive with thoughts he wasn’t sharing with you, as was yours.

“Sing me a lullaby.”, he whispered as he took your hand to kiss your palm.

“Hmm maybe tomorrow.”, you mumbled as you stroked his hair but instead he furrowed his brows.

“Please.”, he pouted as he stroked your chin.

And all your frustration faded away as you shook your head giving him a smile. This was all you craved, for you to light up his eyes, to be held by him and as you zoned out, focused on your fingers trailing through his hair,

“What are you worried about?”, he tilted your chin to see him and you weren’t sure if there was a unified answer to that question.

“Everything.”, you sighed to which he seemed like he could understand that state of anxiety.

“What are you stressed about?”, you asked as the silence surrounded you again.

“Everything.”, he said as he smiled gently, his eyes finding yours.

You nodded slowly, was he worrying about the same things you were worried about?

Was he worried you didn’t love him?

As if he could gauge what your thoughts were saying, his hand slipped to your waist as his fingers touched your skin beneath your shirt.

“I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”, he spoke the words as you watched fear flicker in his eyes.

“I’m afraid if I tell you I love you, you won’t say it back.”, he gripped the edge of your shirt as if this very moment you could disappear from his hold.

But you had forgotten to breathe hearing his vulnerable reason as to why he held you at a distance.

“Sometimes you get lost in that head of yours, O'hara.”, you could feel a tear trickled down your cheek as you bent down to kiss his forehead. He exhaled finally, relaxing into your touch.

“Obviously I love you.”, you let him wipe the tear stains from your cheek as his eyes began to glisten. Somehow the weight that surrounded you both was no longer present.

“If not I wouldn’t be here trying to fight for us.”, you said sweetly and felt relief spread through you as you watched the light in his eyes begin to spark again.

“You're so much more braver than I am.”, he chuckled as he shuffled closer to lay his head almost on your abdomen.

But were you brave?

Brave enough to tell him what you were feeling?

“Now close you eyes, I’ll sing you a song.”, you told him patting his cheek to which he obediently obliged, waiting for you to sing him to sleep.

He had told you one night, that it kept his nightmares at bay, that he didn’t feel alone and it felt like home, when he heard you sing around him. So you began to sing, not to keep away the nightmares or remind him he wasn’t alone but to convey how he made you feel.

Because he was the essence that brought forth music from your soul. The brighter he shined, the louder you could sing.

“Amor, eres tú

Ninguno como tú”, you began to sing but from the first words that slipped out your mouth, his eyes were on you.

“Todo lo que dicen, solo eso

Hace que se rinda el universo

Como hacen los dioses

Al caer la noche

Para qué correr si no hay apuro?”, you looked down to see him and you felt his pure love engulf you, the surprise in his eyes to the slight part in his lips.

“Si es que cada vez que estamos juntos

El tiempo se detiene y desaperece

Y tú me das todo lo demás

Yo quiero estar donde tú estás”, all you could do was smile softly as the words began to carry the extent of your love to him, because he needed to know that all you wanted was to be here, with him.

“Amor, eres tú

Solo tú

Ya no me hace falta nada más

Si lo más difícil de encontrar

Encontrar contigo”, he heard you sing a new song but the way you sang it made him feel like he had listened to it before, or maybe because even in the chaos of his life he felt your love filter through to him everyday. Even in the silence, even in the frustration, it didn’t change.

He had found the hardest thing, after losing everything he knew to failing in what he did. Finding you was the one saving grace his life had afforded him.

So he rose up, resting his weight on his elbow, not patient enough for you to finish because his heart was undone. He was undone.

He placed his lips onto yours just as you were singing the final line, but it was as though he had heard it all.

“I’m so lucky to have found you.”, he said it as he kissed you.

Your heart was full, your annoyance vanished because there was no more room for fear, there was no need to doubt because when you kissed him your world had come alive and to know that he loved you, shot you up to the skies to live among the stars.

“Don’t you ever let me go.”, you held onto the collar of his shirt as his eyes bored into yours.

How could he when you were the anchor to his soul?

He shook his head fervently, as though that by itself was a solemn oath. With that he rested his head on his pillow, his arms entangled around you to pull you close, with the synchronized rhythm of your heartbeat and the soft hum of your melody lingering in his mind, sleep had found him sooner than before.

[hippiegoth97]

Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 13

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 12

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, alcohol use, anger, anxiety, smut, masturbation, squirting, unprotected sex, praise/degradation, slight voyeurism/exhibitionism, crying, mild arguing, mentions of a dead parent

Word Count: 8.8k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 13: Human

Wednesday, April 12th, 1989

Your alarm clock wakes you up at 7:30am, blaring its harsh trill in a persistent rhythm. The sound hurts your head, your wound throbbing at the back of your skull. Eddie grumbles beneath you, not wanting to get up. You place a whisper of a kiss on his cheek before slipping out of bed to shut the alarm off. His good eye flutters open when the room is quiet again. "Come back to bed, love. You're so warm and cozy." Sleep saturates his voice, it's really adorable.

"I can't, Eds. I have to shower and get ready for my exam. You can stay in bed if you want. I know you're really tired." You stroke his hair, which makes him smile warmly at you. He just nods in reply, closing his eye to continue resting. You don't blame him one bit. If you didn't have your final, you'd be knocked out right next to him all day.

You go through your usual routine, taking your time as your head is pounding again. You take a shower first, carefully letting the water run over your stitches. It doesn't feel great, but the doctor said to keep the area clean and you don't have time to deal with an infection. You return to your room wrapped in a towel, quietly digging around your drawers to pull out some fresh jeans and a t-shirt.

Eddie's snoring again, you watch his chest rise and fall in the mirror's reflection while you dress. You hate to leave him alone all morning, you're sure he'll be a bit stir-crazy without you or anything to occupy his mind. Maybe he'll get curious and dig around in your room, if he hasn't before. You giggle quietly at that thought, picturing Eddie attempting to glean new information about you from old stuffed animals and journals you've long since neglected. You walk over to him, giving another kiss to his forehead. He stirs slightly, an indescribably cute noise escaping his mouth.

You tiptoe out of the room, not wanting to disturb him. You slowly close the door behind you, traveling down the hall to the kitchen. Dustin is at the island munching on some Eggos, and Mom is frying up some bacon and eggs. You see your portion, but she's making more than usual. It's probably for Eddie. "Mornin' kiddos! How'd you sleep?" Mom asks with her back turned.

"I slept alright, Eddie's still asleep." You reply, which makes her face drop slightly. Dustin also gives a worried glance.

"Is he alright? He looked like a zombie when you brought him home last night." Dustin asks, concerned about his friend.

"He's alright. Yesterday really shook him up. He did wake up at first, but I told him he can stay in bed if he wants."

"Well, I'll put a plate for him in the microwave. I'd hate for him to go hungry." Mom says, clearly nervous about today. You've scared the hell out of her with yesterday's incident. And tonight she has to break bread with her ex-husband's mistress and their kids. You feel so guilty for putting her through all this, you wonder if she still thinks Eddie is the right man for you.

"I'll leave a note before we go, I'm sure he'll appreciate it." You keep conversation light, getting a plate from the cabinet to serve yourself. "You ready for your tests today, Dusty?" You ask, Mom's focus has drifted away from him lately in favor of you and Eddie. Another thing you feel very guilty about.

"Born ready!" He says cheerfully, luckily he doesn't seem to have taken the shift in attention personally. He knows Mom has been doting on you for years to get into a serious relationship. And now that you have, she's over the moon. Well, at least she was. The jury is still out on whether that sentiment remains.

"Good." You smile at him, taking a bite of egg into your mouth. The three of you finish eating, and you go back to your room one last time to retrieve your bag. You scribble out a note for Eddie, which reads:

I'll be back in a couple hours, love. There's a plate for you in the microwave, please be kind to yourself today.-Your Girl ♡

You set it on the nightstand, hoping he sees it instead of freaking out when he wakes up to an empty house. You give him one last kiss, unable to resist. He hums lightly, and you worry you've woken him up now. He doesn't do anything else besides shift a little in the bed. You sling your bag over your shoulder, glancing back at him one last time before heading to the front door. Mom leads the way to the car, you in the front and Dustin in the back. The ride is pretty quiet, you can sense a different tense energy growing in your mother.

Dustin is dropped off first as the high school is closer. Claudia pulls away after saying goodbye, and she glances at you oddly. "What's up, Mom?" You ask, your voice faltering.

"Nothing, nothing." She shakes her head insistently, but you're not convinced. You look at her purposefully, and she sighs before speaking again. "I'm just worried, that's all." She says, a tinge of judgment hiding just below the surface of her tone.

"About what?" You want clarification as there's many things she could be referring to. You pick at your hands, anticipating what she's going to say.

"You and Eddie." She says plainly, knowing you're onto her.

"In what way?"

"Well, sugarpuff...I just, I worry that maybe he's not what you need right now." There it is. The other shoe finally drops. You scoff, not in disbelief of her feeling this way. It's more that you had hoped she'd be better than this.

"What's that supposed to mean? You think he's not good enough for me?" You're getting defensive, you've already told her it wasn't his fault.

She sighs again, considering her words carefully. "I don't mean it like that. He's a sweet young man, and he clearly cares for you. And I know you love him, honey. But...yesterday was easily the worst day of my life. I was worried to death. Getting the call at work that you were at the hospital scared the shit out of me." She can't help tearing up a little, the initial thought when she received that call was that you'd been in a car accident or something.

"I know, Mom. It was no picnic for me or Eddie, either. I've already told you, it wasn't his fault. Jason was being a piece of shit because we wanted to do the right thing." Your heart is sinking as this talk continues, you really hope she doesn't ask you to break up with him. You won't, no matter what she says. But to have her even ask would crush you both. Eddie already worries about being good enough for you. If Mom gives even a hint of that sentiment to him, he'll surely save you the trouble and cut himself out of your life.

"I understand that, Y/N. But I need you to understand something, too. You are my child, and it's my job to do everything I can to protect you. This mess had me and Dusty in shambles yesterday. So, if Eddie gets you hurt or in trouble again, I don't want him in my house. And I certainly won't keep that promise I made if that happens. Do you understand me?" Her question rings through the air just as you pull up to the college. She looks at you fully, her face hardened as she expects a quick answer.

"Yes, I understand." You say begrudgingly, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. This is so fucking unfair, she's treating you like a little kid again. You get where she's coming from, you truly do. But she should know by now that Eddie does everything in his power to take care of you. One little mistake, and she doesn't trust him anymore. She's no better than every other fucker in this town that takes one look at Eddie and only sees trouble.

"I can tell you're not happy with me, sugarpuff. You get your bull-headedness from me, ya know. But I'm serious. One more mess-up, and you're on your own in regards to him. Now, go ace that test. I'll be waiting right here with my novel." She attempts to smile, but you don't buy it. The anger in your eyes shines through crystal clear. You get out of the car without another word. You'll say something you regret if you open your mouth.

You make your way to the exam room, unable to calm the seething feeling inside you. Great, now your testing flow is thrown off. Part of you wants to flunk this test on purpose, just to spite her. You could always blame it on your head injury, you could even get a redo if it came down to it. You're just so upset that she would threaten to ban Eddie from your house if he 'screws up' again. This wasn't his fault. Why can't she see that? You dread going back home after the exam. Eddie will know you're hiding something. But you can't possibly tell him what Mom said.

You take your seat, forcing the rage into a deep recess of your mind as you wait for the go-ahead to open your test booklet. You take your time, drawing out every answer in an effort to stall facing your beaten boyfriend. You have a secondary thought process going in your mind as you fill in the scantron bubbles, coming up with a way to hide what Mom said from Eddie. You don't want to lie, but he can't handle something like this right now. He's hanging by a thread as it is, so you'll have to put up an act. The very idea of doing this makes you sick, but what choice do you have? Ugh, maybe I should just tell him. You really don't know what to do at this point, turning the attention away from the subject for now.

You finish second to last, with only fifteen minutes left in the allotted time. Mom will be worried again, this plan is backfiring already. Your professor gives you an odd look when you return your testing materials, she expected you to finish way before everyone else. She's about to ask if you're alright, it reads plainly on her face. You can't take another person worrying about you, so you leave before she can speak. You make your way outside and get back in the car, clicking your seatbelt in place.

"That took a while. How'd it go?" Mom asks while glancing at her watch.

"It went fine." You reply shortly. You don't even look at her, you can't. She's really pissed you off this time. She sighs again, becoming rather annoyed herself. She wonders if she shouldn't have said anything at all. She doesn't mean to be harsh, she's just looking out for you.

"Okay." It comes out of her mouth barely above a whisper, and she puts the car in drive to take you both home. The whole ride is silent, suffocating. You hate it, but you refuse to let this go. There's certainly no hiding this from Eddie now, you're far from a good actress. Let's just hope everyone can calm the fuck down before dinner later on.

Mom stalls the car in the driveway, and you leave her behind to go inside. You leave the front door open for her, though you're tempted to slam it. You find Eddie eating his plate of food in the kitchen, struggling to avoid touching his nose or busted side of his lip. "Hey, darling. How'd the test go?" He asks as his fork stabs the split in his mouth. "Fuck." He mutters, letting the utensil clatter onto his plate.

"Oh, Eds." You gasp, setting your bag on the island to tend to his bleeding lip. You grab some paper towel, folding it for him to hold to his wound. "Here. And it went fine, there's something I have to tell you when you're done eating, though." You say cautiously, not wanting to spook him.

"Well, that doesn't make me nervous at all." He replies, raising an eyebrow at you as he holds the towel up to stop the bleeding. Mom shuts the door and walks past you without saying anything, retreating to her room as she imagines you aren't wanting her company at the moment.

"I know. It's not something I wanted to hear, either." His eyes widen at your words, curious what that means. Did Claudia say something? He starts to panic internally, hoping you're not going to dump him or something. "Eddie, don't freak out. What it is does not change a damn thing between us. Okay?" You take his free hand, emphasizing your point by giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Okay." He says, letting himself relax a little. The blood flow mostly stops, and he finishes his plate before putting it in the sink. You take his hands, pulling him along behind you back to your room. You really don't want to tell him what Mom said, but hiding and lying isn't something you want to be in the habit of doing. Eddie means too much to you for you to deceive him. You sit side by side on the bed, still holding hands. "What's up?" He asks, reminding himself of what you said. Nothing will change between us. He really hopes you mean that.

You nod awkwardly, preparing yourself. You don't want Eddie to be upset, or decide he can't be with you anymore. You can't lose him, he's your everything. "Okay, just gonna reiterate that I highly disagree with this. I have no intention of letting you go, ever." You look deep into his eyes, trying to drive home the fact that you can't live without him. He gives you a nod, nudging you to keep talking. "Mom was driving me to the exam. She told me how scared she was yesterday, that she thinks you're not 'what I need right now'. And she said...that if I get hurt again when I'm around you, that she won't let you in the house anymore." You flinch as you finish speaking, it's like the air has been sucked out of the room.

You glance at Eddie cautiously, waiting for him to respond. He takes a minute to absorb this, you have no clue how he's going to react. "Fair enough." He shrugs. Well, that was easier than you expected.

"Really?" You ask, confused.

"I mean, she's not wrong to say that, Y/N. You're her daughter, and she's worried about you. I know you don't think it's fair, but you're forgetting that this isn't the first time you've gotten hurt because of me." You're surprised he's taking this so well, but you suppose it's better than him trying to leave you.

"But that wasn't your fault, either. I was being a dumbass, biking into the road when I shouldn't have." You retort, unsatisfied with how this is all panning out. You still think it's bullshit that Mom said what she did. Eddie would never hurt you on purpose, it's been your own fault every time. You cross your arms, and Eddie scoffs.

"What do you want me to say, princess? I feel like you're looking for a fight here, when there isn't one." He searches your eyes, and you avert your gaze in annoyance.

"It's just not right, Eds. Hearing her say that, she sounded like every other asshole in this town that judges you unfairly." You hate the way Eddie's treated in Hawkins. He doesn't do or say anything to anyone. But because of his outward appearance, they assume he's a monster, or something.

Eddie sighs, using his thumb and forefinger to gently lead you to look at him. He speaks seriously, hoping he can help you understand. "Whether you like it or not, your mother holds me responsible for your safety since I'm your boyfriend. And so do I, Y/N. Clearly you don't agree with us on this, and that's fine. But you deserve better, and I damn well intend to be better."

You want to protest, shout and scream that he's perfect just the way he is. You don't need him to be better, he's everything you need already. But you're outnumbered, so what's the point in fighting it? "Okay." Is all you can say, anything else will surely lead to an argument. And you're too tired to handle that right now, especially when you have to deal with Angie in a few hours. "We've got a while before dinner, is there anything you wanna do?" You ask, wanting to spend as much time with Eddie one on one as possible.

He thinks for a moment, his features softening once he realizes you aren't going to fight him on the previous subject. He smiles kindly, letting your chin out of his grip. "Anything you want, sweetheart. I'm just happy to be around you." He wishes he could kiss you, but his busted face has taken his favorite things to do to you off the table.

Noticing his wanting for contact, you lean over and plant a warm kiss on his throat. He sighs, his hand snaking up to cradle the back of your neck. You leave a trail of wet marks on him, nipping the skin just below his jaw. He moans quietly, wanting more. "I love you, Eds." You whisper against his flesh, poking your tongue out to lick his sweet-spot.

His breath hitches, the next six days are going to be very trying for him. It'll take every last iota of willpower to keep himself from diving face first between your legs. "I love you too, baby. You're killin' me here." He whimpers, which only pushes you further.

You move his hair aside to purr against the shell of his ear. "Well, lucky for you, my mouth is fully capable of giving you what you want. Let me please you, darling." Slipping a hand down his front to graze over the bulge forming in his pajamas, he moans in your grasp.

"What about you?" He asks, meeting your lustful eyes. Your heart soars at his consideration for your own pleasure, he's always been so invested in it. You shrug, not finding it particularly important at the moment.

"You can watch me get myself off, if you want. Your mouth and hands are kinda out of commission at the moment." You take Eddie's earlobe between your teeth, nibbling on it just the way he likes.

"I think you're forgetting another vital part, princess." He chuckles lightly, and you stop your movements on him.

"Are you sure, Eddie? I don't wanna hurt you." You'd hate to make his injuries worse by engaging in such a strenuous activity. Though the wetness gathering between your legs tells you what you truly desire.

"I have an idea, if you're up for it." He gives you a devilish smirk, a glint of mischief in his eye.

"Shoot." You say, anxious to hear what he has in mind.

"There's still one more page in the book I made you that we haven't tried yet." He gestures for you to retrieve it, and you find the position Eddie is referring to. Number six: Conquest. You can't help going slack-jawed at the illustration, but it's perfect for the current limitations you both face. You look at him with widened eyes, and he laughs at your reaction. "It's good to know I'm still able to shock you, baby. You wanna lock the door?"

"Uh...yeah." You snap yourself out of it for a second, hopping off the bed to click the lock. You hear Eddie shuffling out of his clothes while your back is turned, he's very eager it seems. You turn back around to find him getting into position. He's laying his head on the pillows, knees tented together. You eye his stiff cock waiting for you, the tip leaking sticky precum. "Fuck." Your breath catches in your throat at the sight, your hands instinctively pulling at the hem of your shirt to lift it over your head.

Eddie watches as you undress, he'd be stroking himself while he waits if it weren't for the bandages on his hands. He wishes his left eye could look at you along with his right. The swelling has gone down a little, but it's still in pretty bad shape. You unbutton your jeans, making a show of sliding them down your legs. "You're so gorgeous, love." Eddie says, sending a flare of heat to your cheeks. You're standing in your bra and panties, reaching behind your back to undo the clasp. The straps fall down your shoulders, and you let the bra plop to the floor. "Can you stop for a second?" He asks as you're about to take off your underwear. His tone is needy, almost desperate.

You raise an eyebrow, before realizing why he asked. "You want me to play with them for you, Eds?" You bat your eyes at him while biting your lip. He nods wordlessly, and you apprehensively bring your palms up to squeeze your tits. You moan lightly at the contact, watching his reaction to you touching yourself. You feel bad that Eddie can't do this himself, but it's also very hot to have him helplessly observe you like this. It reminds you of your birthday, which was easily one of the best days of your life. "You wish these were your hands instead, baby?" You speak teasingly, walking closer to the side of the bed.

"I really do. Can you tease your nipples a little, sweetheart? I love the face you make when I do that." You do as he requests, your eyes fluttering shut as you roll the sensitive buds between your fingers. Your mouth falls open, letting out a low moan of his name. "Fuck, just like that."

"Should I touch something else, baby?" You open your eyes again as you pose the question. You really want to feel how wet you are, and tell him all about it. It'll drive him even crazier than you already have.

"Please, take off your panties and tell me how wet you are for me." You can't get enough of the begging in his voice, it's practically a drug to you. You slip your final piece of clothing off, kicking it away with your foot. You watch his gaze follow your hand as it seamlessly glides over your breasts, down your stomach, until it reaches between your thighs.

"Fuck, Eddie." You whine as you finally touch your slick folds. Your fingertips ghost over your clit, before dipping inside your entrance out of reflex. "I'm absolutely soaked for you." You pump your fingers in your pussy at an agonizing pace, preparing yourself to take Eddie's dick when he's ready for you.

"Such a filthy girl, fingering yourself while I watch." He says lowly, unbearably wound up by your little performance.

"Can I have you inside me now, baby? I want your cock so fucking bad." You whimper, tying a knot of pleasure inside yourself that won't hold much longer.

"You can if you want to, sweetheart. But I'd love nothing more than to see you make yourself cum. Can you make a mess for me like a good girl?" Oddly enough, he's the one in control now without even touching you. Shit, he's an evil little genius sometimes.

"I'll be a good girl for you, Eds." You pant, increasing your speed as he stares you down like a starving animal. "Oh, god, I'm so close already." You try to keep the noise down, biting your lip to stifle the moans. Your juices drip down your fingers, gathering into your palm. Eddie's taking in every last detail as you bring yourself to climax, holding back his own high for your sake. He wants you to ride him relentlessly, and the perfect way to get you to do that is to give you an orgasm first. For some reason, one is never enough for you. You always need at least one more to be fully satisfied, and that fact makes him positively wild inside.

Your eyes have screwed shut, and your lips stay parted just enough to let the sweetest noises escape. Your hips begin to buck forward every so often, jolts of pleasure striking your most sensitive parts. You're sheened over in sweat, he can sense you're just on the edge of total bliss. "That's it, keep going. Such a perfect little slut for me. Look at me while you cum, sweetheart." You force your eyes open, chest heaving as you feel the knot you've tied snap into smithereens.

"Eddie一" You bite your free hand to hold back the scream that's trapped within your lungs. Your legs shake, blazing sparks shooting through your body. Arousal rushes from your cunt, spilling onto the carpet. Your walls clamp onto your fingers, trapping them inside as you convulse through your high.

"That's my girl, you did so well." Eddie coos, it takes everything in him not to blow his load at the sight of you. Your knees buckle, and you slump onto the floor for a moment to recover. Your digits are still stuck inside you, you try to release them through your aftershocks. You finally pull them free, moaning at the loss of being filled up. "You ready for me, baby? Or are you done?" He asks, though he knows you're far from finished.

"You really need to ask?" You say breathlessly as you stand again. You climb onto the bed with your back to him. You rest on your knees on either side of him, taking his swollen cock in your hand. He groans at the contact, overly sensitive from waiting so long. You slowly drag his tip through your slippery folds, moaning just a tiny bit louder than you mean to when he touches your clit.

"Shh, gotta be quiet, angel." Eddie warns sweetly. He doesn't imagine Claudia wants to hear you two having sex after what's happened in the last twenty-four hours. You nod, savoring how good he feels against you. You sense he wants you to stop teasing, guiding his length to slowly push into you. His tip disappears into your dripping cunt, and he moans quietly at the beautiful image. You let him out of your grip, sliding yourself down onto him fully.

"Oh, my god." You gasp as he fills you up in the best way possible. You hold his knees just like the picture in the book, using your own as leverage to lift yourself up before sinking back down. "This is so fuckin' perfect, Eds." You confess to him, your stomach rubbing against his thighs as you start to ride.

"Wish you could see the view from here, my cock sliding into that pretty pussy of yours. God, it's fuckin' beautiful." Eddie groans, wishing you'd go faster. You're so hot and wet around him, hugging him the way he likes.

His words fuel your fire, and you bounce on him harder and faster. He hits your g-spot just right every time you land on him, you're quickly building up to come crashing down again. "You feel so good, baby. I'll never get enough of you." You confess, needing Eddie to know everything you think about him.

"I'll never get enough either, princess. Are you getting close?" He doesn't want to rush you by any means, but he's so very near to losing it. He wants to give you what you need, wishing he could use other parts of himself to help you get off. You increase your speed in response, which he takes as a big fat 'yes'. He might not be able to do much, but he can hold your waist to pull you harder onto him. He grips your sides with his bandaged hands, making you gasp. Your skin slaps against his, the two of you sweating profusely.

"Shit, Eddie. Just like that, fuck." You groan through clenched teeth, forcing yourself to keep the noise down. Eddie's tip kisses your sweet-spot harder and faster with his hands guiding you, pounding you into your next orgasm. "I'm gonna cum, baby. Have I been a good little whore for you?" You ask, tempted to look back at him for his response. But you don't want to disrupt the delicious sensation you're feeling.

"Always, babydoll. I'm right behind you, cum for me." He yanks you even harder into him, which sends you flying over the proverbial cliff into a chasm of ecstasy.

"Eddie!" You cry out, before biting down into his leg to conceal any further noise. You shake uncontrollably once again, with Eddie still rutting you into him. You try to keep up your movements to bring him down with you, which only extends your pleasure. Cum gushes out of you, flowing down your thighs, and onto Eddie's stomach. But he doesn't stop, despite the fact that you're both becoming very slippery.

"Shit, Y/N." He grunts, unable to contain himself. He keeps an iron grip on you as his load empties into your cunt. You continue moving until both your highs run their course, relishing every last thrust before collapsing against his thighs. Your breath comes out harsh and ragged, fighting for air.

"Well, looks like we'll need another shower." You joke, letting yourself melt into a satisfied pile of goo. You lay your head on his knees, sighing in contentment.

Eddie chuckles beneath you, caressing your sides with his hands. "That we do, angel. Not to mention some clean sheets."

"Mhm. What time is it?" You ask as your eyes drift closed. Eddie's gone soft inside you, but you can't be bothered to move just yet. He doesn't appear to be in any kind of rush, either, still running his large fingers along your waist and back. It's very soothing, therapeutic, even.

He turns his head to glance at the clock. "A little after noon. How about we get cleaned up and have some lunch, love?"

"I suppose we should, although I'd much rather sit on your dick all day." You say cheekily, clenching around him to emphasize your point.

"Jesus, Y/N.'' He groans, overstimulated from being sheathed inside you longer than usual. You giggle at his reaction, bracing your hands on his knees as you slowly remove yourself from your favorite place. The two of you hiss at the sensation, rather worn out now. You manage to stand, walking over to the closet to retrieve your bathrobes. Eddie gets up after you, taking the frilly garment to cover up with.

You scurry to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You go over to the shower to turn on the faucet, before helping Eddie remove his bandages. "I'll help you put on new ones once we're all clean, baby." You realize his hands are completely bare, something you've never seen before. "What happened to your rings, Eds?" You ask, hoping he didn't lose them.

"Left ‘em in my jeans pocket. I forgot about them until just now, actually. I can't exactly wear them until these cuts heal." You inspect his knuckles, which are all split open pretty deep from him punching Jason so hard. You tut at the state of them, you hate to see him injured like this.

"I'll dig them out of the laundry so they don't get lost, I know they're important to you." You say, unable to hide your sullen tone.

"Not nearly as important as you, sweetheart." Eddie's words cheer you up a little, a slight smile twitching on your lips. "There's that smile I love. C'mon, we've gotta wash up." He leads you over to the shower, stepping in after you. You assist him in washing his hair, making sure he's turned away from the water so he doesn't mess up his cast. You wash your own hair and body, which Eddie watches closely. He can't help getting a little hard again, but he has no intention of acting on it. You've both had enough, there has to be some energy left for tonight. This dinner will be far from easy for you, and he has to be giving 100% to support you.

You finish off the shower by sudsing Eddie down, smirking when you notice his erection. You let him be, you've got to show restraint at some point. He rinses off, and you help him dry off and put on fresh bandages before returning to your room to get dressed. You reach into the laundry basket to locate Eddie's dirty jeans, feeling around in the pockets until you pull out his rings. You hold them in your hand, noticing the true weight of them for the first time. "How do you wear these all the time? Don't your fingers get tired?" You ask curiously, the metal clinking in your palm as you toy with them.

"I dunno, I've had 'em for years. Got used to it, I guess." He replies, pulling on some clean pants and snaking his signature belt through the loops. You place the rings on your nightstand, standing in front of Eddie. He hasn't put a shirt on yet, a couple drips of water from his hair running down his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, laying your cheek on his warm skin. "What's up, angel?" He asks, putting his arms over you to keep you close.

"I just like holding you, Eds. Is that okay?" You feel silly even asking, he loves it when you show him affection.

"Of course it is, princess. Always." He says sweetly, sighing when you nuzzle against his shoulder. "You're real cute, you know that?" He muses.

"Mhm, always." You quip, making you both laugh. "You're very cute, too, among other things." You say as you playfully twirl the tuft of hair on his chest with your finger. You pull away after a moment, letting him fully dress. Your stomach is begging for food, the sound growing louder as the minutes tick past.

You and Eddie spend the next few hours having a simple lunch and watching TV on the couch. You anxiously wait for your mother to corral you into the car for dinner, hoping this evening won't turn into a blowout. You lay against the armrest with Eddie between your thighs, stroking his hair mindlessly. His hands run up and down your legs in a gentle rhythm, you're both very touchy without even thinking about it. Dustin returns home from his own tests, giving you two a brief greeting and heading to his room to change his shirt. He comes back out to join you and Eddie in the living room. "How'd it go, Dustin?" Eddie pipes up, and Dustin beams at him.

"Easiest. Tests. Ever!" Dustin says, which earns him a high five from Eddie. He plops down into the armchair, crossing his ankles as he smirks in self-satisfaction.

"Good to hear, big guy." Eddie replies with a chuckle, shifting in his spot to get a little closer to you. The three of you talk for a bit, shooting the breeze. A little bit later, Mom emerges from down the hall. She's dressed nicer than usual, and she's wearing a full face of makeup. That's not like her at all. You assume she's trying to impress Angie, for some strange reason.

"Alright, kiddos. Let's hit the road." She says, eyes shifting nervously between your faces. Everyone gathers their shoes and belongings, heading outside to pile into the car. Dustin sits shotgun this time, with you and Eddie in the back. You stare out the window, knee bobbing as your heart rate steadily increases. Eddie notices your nerves, taking your hand in his from across the backseat. You glance over at him, plastering on a smile. He gives you a sympathetic look, telling you everything will be okay in his own special way. Mom pulls the car into a new restaurant at the edge of town, it just opened a few months ago. 'Applebee's Neighborhood Bar & Grill', the large sign with an apple in the logo says.

The parking lot is pretty full, you imagine it's very crowded inside. Mom glances at her watch, telling you that Angie wanted to meet up in the parking lot before heading inside. You all step out of the car, looking around to find a woman with two kids parked somewhere in the crowd. Your eyes fall on an elderly couple leaving after the early-bird special, some young adults going in to watch 'the game', until you land on a woman with bleached blonde hair. She's standing beside a cherry red convertible, with two small children that look the spit of her. "Found them." You say to the group, pointing to let Mom lead the way. Eddie stays glued to your side, not letting go of your hand.

"Hey, Angie!" Mom calls as the four of you walk over. The woman turns to meet her gaze, and you take in her appearance. She's exactly how you pictured. Blonde updo, trashy cheetah-print clothes, gaudy jewelry, and far too much makeup. The typical slut all the married men love to cheat with. Eddie notices your face hardening as you get closer.

"Relax, baby." He whispers in your ear, which softens you slightly. You nod without looking at him, squeezing his hand a little tighter.

"Claudia. Glad you could make it." Angie speaks in a high-pitched, nasally voice. Shit, the jokes are writing themselves. This is gonna be even harder than you thought. "I’m sure your Mom has told you, I’m Angie. And these are my kids, Jake who's seven and Polly who's five." She gestures with her spindly, red fingernails to acknowledge the children who stand silently at her sides. Jake is dressed in overalls and a striped t-shirt, whereas Polly is wearing a pink frilly dress with matching bows. They don't seem to understand who you are, or why they're in this strange place. They clutch Angie's stocking-clad legs, clearly very shy. You feel bad for them, their faces are a little puffy from crying. But then you remember why they even exist, averting your eyes to stop giving them any sign of sympathy.

"Hey there, kiddos! It's nice to meet you! I'm Claudia, and this is my son Dustin, who's seventeen." Mom nudges Dustin to say hello, which he does awkwardly. "And this is my daughter Y/N, who's twenty-one. And her boyfriend, Eddie."

Angie inspects you and Eddie suspiciously, smirking at how battered and bruised you look. You can sense a particular term blossoming in her mind, 'daddy issues'. Well, you're the one that gave them to me, bitch. You think as you glare at her. "Hi." You say incredulously, trying to set her hair on fire with your mind.

"It's nice to meet you, kiddos. George told me about you all the time. Both of you have gotten so big!" You want to punch her, knock that stupid smile off her overly-painted face. How dare she say such a thing, and how dare your father even pretend he gave a shit about you or your brother. Everyone stands in silence for a moment, not sure what else to say. Angie pipes up again, steering clear of the tender subject for the time being. "Well, I called ahead and got us a table! Shall we head inside?" She gestures with her hands to the entrance, clicking on her heels as she walks ahead with Jake and Polly.

"If she keeps up like this, there's gonna be two funerals this week." You mutter through clenched teeth, feeling your blood pressure rise as the seconds pass. Eddie stops the two of you walking, falling behind the group.

"What's wrong?" Mom asks as the others stop to look at you.

"We'll catch up with you, Ms. Henderson. I think Y/N needs a second." Eddie calls, and Mom shrugs before turning to walk inside with the others. Eddie turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Sweetheart, you've gotta calm down." He says, worried that you'll attempt to kill Angie before you even get your order taken.

You sigh harshly, trying to steady your pounding heart. "I know. I just- I can't." You look at him with pleading eyes. You just want to turn around and leave. You don't care what Angie has to say, you don't care about any of this. There's no way you can sit down and eat a meal with that woman.

"Yes you can, Y/N." You shake your head, holding back frustrated tears. "Look, let's take a breather, 'kay? But I'm not letting you back out of this. You're the bravest, and the strongest woman I know. Are you really gonna let that bimbo get under your skin in the first five minutes?" Eddie smirks to encourage you, knowing you're more than capable of handling this. He also knows if he frames this in a way to play into your petty side, you'll be on your best behavior just to spite Angie.

"I hate how good you are at pep talks." You pout, crossing your arms dramatically as you hide a smile. He always knows exactly what to say. "C'mon, let's get this over with." You sigh deeply, pulling him along. The two of you step inside, the restaurant is absolutely bustling. You see Mom and the others at a large corner booth at the back, pointing the way for Eddie to keep up.

"There you two are! I hope it wasn't something I said." Angie greets you when you reach the table. Anger flares behind your eyes again, but you feel Eddie's thumb stroking your hand to soothe you.

"Not at all. It's just been a hard week." You say in a sickly sweet tone, hiding your fury behind fake happiness. You're nauseated by this little act, but you know the saying: 'Fake it til you make it'. Dustin and Angie's kids are sitting on the one end, with Mom and Angie in the middle. This arrangement would force you to sit right next to the whore, when Eddie takes the lead to sit there instead. It ought to keep you from stabbing her with your fork.

"Thanks, Eds." You whisper in his ear, and his hand goes to your thigh to say 'you're welcome'.

"Well, the waitress came by with the menus already and I ordered both of you a beer. I hope that's alright." Angie says, handing two menus off to you and Eddie.

"That's fine. Thanks." You reply, taking a look to see what to order. You really aren't in the mood for food, but it would be rude to not get anything.

"Thank you." Eddie adds, avoiding Angie's gaze. She's taking a closer look at him now, from what you can tell.

"You've certainly picked a handsome one, Y/N." Her nasal squawk rings in your ears. You imagine her scream is probably only audible to dogs.

You notice Eddie's cheeks burning, he must be very uncomfortable under her stare. "Yep, he's absolutely gorgeous, even when he's beaten and bruised. And he's all mine." You can't help getting territorial on your final word, reaching over so she can see you grip Eddie's thigh roughly. He holds back a groan, regretting his decision to put himself between the two of you. "What sounds good to you, darling? Maybe we can share something? I'm not very hungry tonight." You look at him, drawing his face to yours.

"Um...I-I'm not sure. I haven't had a chance to look yet." He says sheepishly, fumbling to open his menu. The conversation turns to how school is going for you and Dustin, plus a few more questions about Eddie and how he got his injuries. The waitress comes by with your drinks, and you happily down a third of your beer in one go. You need some booze if you're gonna make it through this meal. You all rattle off your orders, and you notice Angie ordering a salad. Of course, to keep her slutty figure, right? Eddie struggles to drink from his glass, so you open up a straw and stick it in his beer. "Thanks, baby." He says, bringing the plastic tube to his lips.

Angie brings up your dad a lot more now that the food is going to take a while to be ready. It's odd, you know Mom hasn't told her anything about the last nine years. There's no way. But the manner that Angie speaks in, it's almost like she knows everything about you. Where the hell did she get that from? What is she playing at? The problem you're having overall, though, is that she doesn't seem that bad. Outside of her cheap hooker looks, she's a sweet, caring woman. There's nothing inherently wrong with what she's saying, or the way she's saying it. She's just trying to relate to you. And you hate her for it.

The food arrives a bit later, and the conversation dies down in favor of filling your bellies with burgers, salad, and macaroni and cheese. You and Eddie split a cheeseburger with fries, with you cutting the sandwich in half this time. Eddie's nervous about you holding a knife, but you seem to have cooled off a little for the time being. He glances at your beer glass, noticing it's almost empty. Oh, princess, he thinks to himself, knowing you're trying your best to hold it together. There's moments where he catches a glimpse of you fighting back tears, or concealing a potentially snarky comment towards Angie. He rewards you with some light caresses on your thigh, and your eyes snap to his for a moment.

I hate this, love. You send the words telepathically, hoping he can read your expression. He just nods, moving his hand to your back instead. Your lip trembles occasionally outside your control, it's taking all your inner strength not to fall to pieces. You can't let her see you cry. You can't let her think you're mourning George for a single second. You take a glance at Dustin, who's currently entertaining the little ones. They're actually smiling, giggling even as he shows them some basic magic tricks. Quarter behind the ear, severed thumb, simple stuff. The display is rather cute, and you forget how awful every other part of this evening has been.

The check comes around finally, and Angie insists on paying for everyone. Dad must have been rolling in it at the car dealership she was telling you he worked at. "Hey, Claudia? Can you take Jake and Polly with you to the car? I wanna have that talk with Y/N I was telling you about." She gives Mom a knowing look, which makes your eyebrows knit in confusion. What the fuck is going on here? Claudia leads the kids outside, leaving you, Eddie, and Angie alone at the booth. She scoots down a foot or so, giving you some space. She can tell you weren't too keen on being squished next to her during dinner. She looks at you anxiously, twiddling her manicured thumbs. "So...you're probably wondering what this whole thing is about." She says, waiting for a response.

"Yeah. I truly have no idea what the hell we could possibly have to discuss." You reply, letting your attitude come out to play a little bit. She scoffs, admiring your spunk.

"Well, there's some things I felt you should know before Friday. I can tell you don't like me very much, Y/N. I wouldn't either, if I was in your shoes. You have every right to be angry with me. But I want you to have all the facts before passing judgment." You watch her closely, wondering where she's going with this. When you don't say anything else, she turns to her purse to pull something out of it. It looks like a bundle of letters, envelopes torn open and creased at the rubber band binding them together. Angie slides them across the table, and you catch them in your hand.

"The hell are these?" You ask, assuming they're love letters your father wrote to her or something.

"Those are the reason why I know so much about you, Y/N. When George left your mother, she made it a point to track us down using a private investigator. Once she did that, she started sending those. Every birthday, Christmas, graduation, et cetera, she sent a letter to let him know just what he was missing." Your jaw drops at this revelation, Mom never told you about this. You look at the envelopes to find that, sure enough, they're all addressed from Mom to their new home in Chicago. "She also made a point to tell him to never write back, or call, or visit. She said he lost the right to be your father, and George agreed."

"You're damn right he did." You blurt out, unable to hide your frustration any longer. You lean forward, narrowing your eyes. "So...what? You want me to feel all warm and fuzzy inside after showing me this shit? He felt so awful about leaving my mother for you, his secretary, that he kept these fucking letters as self-punishment?"

"I don't expect you to do anything. I just一 I wanted you to see that he still cared for you, despite his mistakes." Her tone changes, she really expects you to buy this horseshit. Eddie watches wordlessly as you two Duke it out with your words, keeping his hand on you as some form of comfort.

"Well, clearly he cared more about getting some young pussy than being there for me, or Dustin, or my mom." Angie's mouth falls open at that, making her look like a blowup doll. Maybe that was part of her appeal to your father. "Is that all? Because I think we're just about done here." You almost spit your words, wanting to hurt her. You start to stand, before she speaks again.

"I want you to give the eulogy, Y/N." She almost shouts, an effort to keep you from storming out. You plop back down in your seat, looking at her like she's grown a third eye on her forehead.

"What?" You ask, hoping you’ve imagined that last part.

"I want you to give the eulogy at George's funeral. You can say whatever you want, no matter how brutal. I see now how much he hurt you, and I don't take your words personally." She speaks carefully, fully aware that you're brimming with anger and resentment. "I loved your dad, whether you like it or not. You can call me a whore, like the rest of this town does. I probably am one, if I'm being honest. It was wrong of me to break up your family."

"Did it take you a whole decade to figure that out?" You cross your arms, slumping back against the seat.

Angie sighs, placing her hands on the table to regain focus. "Look, obviously things didn't pan out how anyone thought they would. But please, I want you to have this chance to say goodbye, and to let go of the suffering we put you through. Not for my peace of mind, but for yours. That pain you're holding onto for dear life will eat you alive from the inside out, I promise you that." She implores you to listen, to at least consider this idea.

You just gawk at her, wondering if you've gone insane. The one thing you've wanted to do since you found out Dad died, is to tell everyone exactly how you feel about him and what he did. And here is the woman you’ve blamed for all life's problems, offering you that exact opportunity. "I'll think about it." You reply, standing to leave once again. You glance at the letters sitting on the table, before looking at Angie one last time. "Can I keep these?" You ask, wanting to know what exactly Mom wrote. You hope she didn't hold anything back.

"Yes, please. I've probably read them a thousand times. I don't need them anymore." She sniffles, carefully wiping away tears.

You take a second before speaking again. "Just, answer one question for me?" You ask, your own eyes beginning to water.

"Anything, hon." She gives you a small smile, which you can't help returning.

You're unsure why you're about to ask this, but it's like you're being compelled to. You have to know the answer to the one question you've had all these years. "Did he ever want to come back?" Your lip is trembling again, but you don't care if she sees you let go this time.

"Every day, sweetie. Even if it was only to say goodbye, one last time." She assures you, making your hand clench tightly around the bundle of papers.

To be continued...

[frankenkyle19]

Best Years of Your Life 💋

@iluwmycats here’s Mr. and Mrs. Zabel for you! My apologies for it being short, but I hope it’s fluffy enough!

word count: 784

warnings: mentions of sex, and tooth rotting fluff

It was all so much better than you had expected. Really. Getting to crawl into Colin’s arms after a long day was heaven on earth. He truly was the most patient and caring man you’d ever met,

That’s why you’d agreed to his proposal so fast. After only 8 months together, which in his opinion was way too long, but for you, much too short to make a life long decision. You hadn’t even thought about getting married before Colin came along, but then there he was, that damn smile that sucked you in and before you knew it, he was yours.

He never asked anything of you, except to sometimes toss his laundry into the wash or to bring his lunch to the station when he’d been in a rush and forgot it. When he had talked about kids, you had told him not yet, I want to be able to enjoy you first, and he gladly agreed. 

You two had a small wedding, only a few people in attendance, and it was the best night of your lives, the sex that night alone was to die for. He had been so sweet and gentle (not that he usually wasn’t) and it was so intimate.

You two fell into a quick rhythm after that, had saved up money and bought a small house, perfect for the two of you, and you couldn’t ask for anything else.

———————————————————————

Now you busied yourself in the kitchen, prepping for your husband's arrival home. He had just gotten a promotion within the force and you wanted to celebrate it, he deserved it. He put in so much work and was so selfless about all of it. He’d never take credit for anything.

When you heard the front door open you jumped, eyes wide. You hadn’t finished. He was home at least ten minutes early. 

“Hey babyyy-“ 

“Stay OUT OF THE KITCHEN!” You yelled before he could finish his sentence or even fully walk through the door. “Please.” You added.

You heard a chuckle from the living room as Colin set his keys down in the dish by the door, hung up his coat and set his bag down. 

“What’re you cooking up in there, Mrs. Zabel?”

Ah yes, he loved calling you that. It made his heart beat faster every time he said it, or when he caught a glance at the modest ring on your finger. How lucky was he to have someone like you? It blew his mind.

“You’ll see soon enough, if I find out you peeked I’ll-“

“Baby I didn’t, what’s got you so riled up? Is today- oh shit is today a special day?” He asked, voice sounding worried as he racked his brain. It wasn’t an anniversary or a birthday… What was it?

“Colin…” you walked out of the kitchen and faced him, hair put into a messy bun and a bunch of different stains on your apron. You thought you looked a mess, but Colin thought you looked absolutely perfect. 

“What?? Baby what day is it??” He pleaded with you to tell him.

“Your promotion! I wanted to celebrate-“

“You don’t have to do that for me-“

“Hush.” You put a hand to your hip as you approached him. A grin splayed on his lips as he looked over your frame. 

“Make me.” He challenged.

——————————————————-

Needless to say, the food was cold before you two touched it, sat forgotten on the stove because Mr. Zabel just couldn’t control himself. 

You laid on his chest, trying to catch your breath from your previous… activities, when you felt him shift under you to get comfortable.

“The foods cold by now….” You grumbled, though you couldn’t lie, the food being cold was well worth it. 

“That’s what an oven is for. Or even a microwave.” He teased, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose.

This is how it went, he got home from work, you two would partake in your shenanigans, and then he’d be super lovey (he always was let’s be honest)

A strong arm wrapped around your frame. Firm. Protective. He’d never let anything happen to you. Ever. 

“You’re so pretty.” He whispered, shaking his head. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“Oh shut up- you act like you’re ugly or something-“

“Well I mean-“

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Zabel.”

“Yes ma'am.” He replied with a chuckle.

God he drove you absolutely nuts, but you’d never have it any other way. 

“I love you.” You whispered

And the man, who you’d never even planned on, who came into your life at the perfect time and showed you how great love could be, replied with a simple 

“I love you more”

[satancopilotsmytardis]

100 please. I absolutely adore when shig makes dabi grind on his leg

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: E

Contents: Thigh riding, puppy play, BDSM, dirty talk, cumming in pants

There is nothing that his lover likes more than humiliating him. So it's probably a really, really good thing that Dabi likes to be humiliated just as much. But the fact that his lover has decided that for the past two weeks he would only touch him if he proved he was taking breaks throughout the day to eat, wasn't pushing himself too far during his training, drinking a sufficient amount of water, and going to bed at a reasonable time, means that Dabi hasn't gotten off in two weeks.

He's less than thrilled about that, of course, and when he thinks he might literally set himself on fire from the tension that is coiled up inside of him, he finally gives in and goes to make himself lunch. It's nothing fancy, nothing time consuming. He just used some microwavable sushi rice to make a simple onigiri triangle, got himself a green tea protein shake, and a washed out and finally filled up the water bottle that Shigaraki got him that connects to an app on Duster's phone to show how much water Dabi is actually drinking each day. He takes his cobbled together meal and barges right into Shig's office to eat while he's listening in remotely to some Detnerat meeting. Dabi locks the door behind him and plops down on the couch in front of his desk and very deliberately eats his lunch, listening in as well. It's not that interesting, but Shigaraki likes to know exactly what's going on. He finishes his foot, takes a big deliberate swig of his water bottle and then crosses the room, turning his lover's chair from his desk.

Duster's eyes are all amusement and he doesn't protest once as Dabi lowers himself into his lap, shrugging off his coat as he does. "I took a lunch break, I actually ate, and I drank water. Touch me."

"You also, apparently, forgot about your manners since you've been misbehaving, precious."

"Please touch me." He corrects as he straddles Shig's lap and grinds into him, his cock already stirring from his desperation.

"I'm still in the middle of working, but if you're so desperate to be rewarded, then I think you can get what you need just like this." Duster's hands tighten around Dabi's hips, shifting him easily in his lap until Dabi is straddling one of his thick thighs, his cock pressed tantalizingly into the solidness of that muscle. He's already feeling the temptation to start moving when his lover leans in a little closer and asks in a murmur, "Are you desperate enough for it that you'll take this, puppy?"

Humiliation goes through him, burning hot along his veins and making the skin across his cheeks sting and... his cock harden more. Pressed like this, Tomura feels it as the words go through him and make him hotter, and he lets out a soft chuckle before pressing a kiss to his temple. 

"Go on then, puppy." 

For about half a second Dabi considers if he has enough pride or stubbornness to just get out of Duster's lap and go pout elsewhere. But both he and his lover know by now that he really doesn't have an ounce of dignity when it comes to Tomura and his libido. So instead he hides his face against Shigaraki's neck and ruts his hips forward. Puts more of that delicious pressure against his cock that hasn't been touched in two weeks and makes him moan softly. He starts to shift and roll his hips, looking for the right rhythm and angle to make his pleasure do more than just sit heavy on the edge of his nerves. He wants this to be good. He wants it to be blinding after so long without any stimulation at all. 

It would be better without his pants, but when he reaches for his belt, Shig catches his wrist without even looking away from his computer. Which kind of does make it better, because that means his lover wants him to make a mess of himself. A fresh humiliation in just the right way that has him moaning again as he grinds harder against his thigh. Moaning loudly enough, he supposes, that Duster thinks it's distracting. Because as he starts to move a little harder, a little faster, finding just the right angle to have the harder seam of his pants rubbing between his ladder, Tomura presses three fingers to his lips. Dabi opens his mouth eagerly, licking at his lover's skin voraciously. 

It's been two weeks since he's had Shigaraki's skin between his teeth and he has been missing that as much as his own pleasure at this point. The weight of his deadly fingers pressing down on his tongue to force his jaw to flex open around them has fresh sounds of pleasure spilling out past his lips as he grinds harder, faster, starting to feel the first drops of his pre smearing against his underwear. He catches Duster's wrist with one of his hands, the other catching the back of his chair so that he can have something solid to hold onto and help him move, and he starts fucking his throat open with his hand, fucking himself much rougher in his lap. Getting so hot, so desperate for more, that he feels a drop of saliva slip past his stretched lips and down his chin, and he finally has Tomura's attention on him again. 

Hot red eyes and a cruelly amused smile. "You really are nothing but a needy, drooling mutt, aren't you?" Which has him getting hotter, grinding faster to chase more of those mean, filthy words. "I should have you like this again, naked, of course, since good puppies don't wear clothes." His other hand goes to Dabi's ass and squeezes him through the leather which makes him moan again, fucking himself roughly against his lover's thigh. "But you would be so cute in a tail, seeing it wagging as you get so desperate, making all those little noises." The fingers in his mouth pet over his tongue and along his teeth before pulling out from his lips and letting Dabi's moans and whimpers spill, unmuffled into the office, the meeting still droning on in the background. "Maybe I'll have to get my little pup a muzzle if he's always so loud and distracting." 

"S-Sir," he whimpers, the words are pushing him so much closer to the edge. 

"Ah-ah, that's not how a good dog speaks." He rocks his thigh up into him on his next thrust and Dabi sees stars. He's getting so close and he has to ask for permission before he cums. If he doesn't, he'll be in a world of trouble. "Pretty pups bark when they need something from their masters." 

His humiliation surges so sharply he's afraid he's going to go over the edge before he barely manages to suck in a breath, and he's shaking hard when his voice cracks on a soft, "Arf?" Dabi wants to die when Tomura laughs at him and he finds himself squeezing his thighs tight around the one he's straddling to try and stave off his orgasm that is right there. 

"What a good boy. You can cum now, puppy." 

The tangle of relief, embarrassment, and pleasure that goes through him as he grinds down hard one more time as he cums makes his mind completely whiteout. He's not sure if it's the play or just because he's been denied for the past two weeks, but his orgasm pulses through his body so headily that Tomura has to wrap his hands around his hips and coax his head against his shoulder so that he doesn't slip off of the chair as he goes completely boneless as he moans and whimpers through the aftershocks of his pleasure. He's beyond floating when his lover starts to stroke his hair and rub little circles against the small of his back. 

"Such a good boy. Was that enough for my pretty pup, or does he want to keep playing?" 

Dabi is pretty sure he was supposed to go to a training session for the rest of the afternoon, but he can't do anything but blush as he turns his head to nose along Tomura's jaw. His voice trembles slightly as he lets out a soft bark before he licks his master's skin. 

"Look at that, my puppy is finally so eager to be trained. Come on, puppy, let's get you cleaned up and see if you've earned another treat." 

His lover disconnects from the meeting and Dabi hopes Tomura actually did get him a tail. He wants to show how excited he is to have all of his lover's attention again. Fuck, he’s probably gonna make him crawl around on his knees for him. Anything to make him so embarrassed that the unscarred portions of his face are hot with his blush and the rest of him is burning with arousal. Anything that keeps Dabi humiliated under his master.

Thanks for submitting! If you enjoyed please let me know!

[4joonkookie]

Neighbors

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Words: 3K (A solid 50/50 of build-up vs. smut) Summary: You make a move on your noisy neighbor, but things really get going when there's a blackout. Notes: Chapter 9 of THIS. Catch yourself up or don't and just enjoy the smut.

Tags: see story for tags, SMUT, noisy neighbors, boy-next-door, college flashback, roommates, getting eaten RIGHT for the first time, JK's voice is so pretty, canon-ish JK behavior, beefy JK, oral sex, riding, protected sex, blackout, fire escape.

ღღღ

You study peacefully when the voices start. The neighbors are having company over, amplifying their existing nuisance.

It starts with the dull hum of laughing, trash-talking, and playing video games. Soon, the dull hum will become a vibrating roar through the walls.

Ugh. I just want to study, you think, rolling your eyes. 

It's the umpteenth time since they’ve moved in. The building is full of students and parties can be found on any floor at any time, but don't students also study? 

You approach the wall and pound your fist on it in frustration. They repeat your rhythm on the other side like it’s a game, cackling through the cheap drywall. 

Assholes.

You grab your laptop and head to the library, resisting the urge to go over and curse them out.

Your roommate peeks her head out of her bedroom as you open the front door.

“Where are you going?” She asks. 

“The library,” you say. 

“I'm coming with you,” she says, grabbing her things. “They’re so fucking loud.”

ღღღ

The worst part is, that’s just the living room. Today, the noise lingers through the walls of the shower.

As you rinse off, a singing voice carries through. You roll your eyes, trying to tune it out. Only… the more you listen to it, the nicer it is. You find yourself forgiving his contribution to the noise in the living room.

The voice moves to the bedroom, so you do, too. Music starts playing on the other side of the wall and the voice continues singing along. An encore.

 Then, the voice is gone, and it's just music. 

It’s fine until you sit down to study and the song never settles. It keeps changing ten seconds into every song. 

Who does this? Just pick a song and stick with it. 

The shuffle of songs and the lack of vocal trance are a distraction. Once again, you admit defeat and head to the library.

ღღღ

Another Saturday night, another party. 

When the next doorbell rings with visitors, you climb out to the fire escape to sit on the steps and study. It’s too late to go to the library and you just want to be settled in for the night. 

You huff out, annoyed, but find that it’s nice. It’s not stuffy or cramped like the library. There’s fresh air and ambient noise. The hum of bros is faint enough through the adjoining window of that apartment to be less disturbing. 

You work for a few hours when the fire alarm goes off in the next apartment.

The window opens and smoke billows out along with the bitter smell of burning food. You get a whiff in your lungs and cough, standing from where you sat on the ladder steps. A man hangs outside, waving the smoke out. 

“Is there a fire?” You ask.

“No, sorry,” he says. You can hardly see him through the cloud of smoke. “Someone in here doesn't know how to use a damn microwave.

You back away and roll your eyes, cursing the inability to get a moment's peace. The smoke clears, and he steps outside. 

“What are you doing out here?”

You recognize his voice right away. That voice. It’s smooth and mellow and light and bright all at once. 

“It’s the only quiet place to study,” you snark. “You guys are so loud.”

“It’s Saturday,” he defends. 

“It’s not just today, it’s nearly every day since you guys moved in,” you say, hating the twinge of whine in your voice.  

“Why haven't you said anything?”

“Does the banging on the wall not count?”

He chuckles in realization and it’s infuriating. And really cute. “That's you,” he realizes out loud. 

He’s gorgeous. Muscular, with a few tats hiding beneath his t-shirt sleeve, making it that much harder to be annoyed with him.

“Yeah,” you say, embarrassed. “That’s me.”

He takes a step closer. “Are you also the one that turns on the blender at 6 am every day?”

You blush. “That's also me,” you say. “Noisy breakfast smoothie. You didn't say anything either,” you antagonize.

“It's an old building. The walls are paper thin. You have to live, right?” He softens. “Besides, I don’t mind. I’ve usually snoozed my alarm 4 or 5 times by then and it's the final push I need to get up.”

You laugh, feeling your guard fall. “You have a nice voice,” you say, looking down at your feet. “I hear you in the shower sometimes.”

He gets shy, looking down. “I didn't know you could hear that.”

“It’s pretty,” you say, feeling the hearts form in your eyes now that there’s a face attached to this voice. “But when you listen to music, what’s with the constant shuffle? I mean, do you ever listen to a song, start to finish?”

He laughs, getting embarrassed again. “I don't know. It's like I start listening and I like it and I feel the vibe and let it flow through me. Once I get a feel for it, I’m ready for the next one.”

You exchange names and you’re confident enough to stand, showing off the ratty t-shirt and fabric shorts that leave your ass cheeks peeking out from underneath. 

His eyes drift down, sensing your exposed skin in the air. It gives you a boost of confidence as your eyes take each other in. 

Can’t believe you’re out here with this stranger, drawn completely in. He takes a pen from behind your ear and gets a gentle grasp on your forearm, turning it slightly. He writes a phone number on your arm. 

“You can always text me if it’s too loud. You shouldn’t have to hide out on the fire escape just to study.” His doe eyes open wide beneath his lashes. “I’ll tell them to try to keep it down. But it’s Saturday, so no promises.” 

There’s no chance of getting any studying done, maybe ever again knowing that the likes of him are on the other side of that wall. You think of anything to keep him outside before he steps into his window.

“Hey.”

He turns back to look at you. 

“Want to keep me company? You look out at the city landscape and twinkling lights. "It’s nice out."

He thinks for a moment. Then he looks down, and the air gets awkward. “You know, I should really get inside,” he says. 

And your face burns with embarrassment and confusion. 

“See you later,” you say. You watch him re-enter his window and hope you never see him again.

ღღღ

You spend more time over the next few weeks studying on the fire escape just because.

Occasionally, you catch JK coming and going for a long run. He doesn’t see you from the ground as you’re many flights up. 

Despite not wanting to see him again and the shame and embarrassment of misreading the whole interaction, it's just a matter of time before you hear him again. Singing in the shower, playing his music. Even when he’s loud with the others, you’re only able to tune into that voice.

Luckily, the window next door hasn’t opened again. 

You’re studying and the sun has long set when suddenly, it all goes dark, inside and out. It’s pitch black and you turn on your phone flashlight. 

“Shit,” you mutter to yourself, wondering how long the power will be out. 

It’s then when the window opens and JK’s head peeks out, candle in hand. A layer of transparent colored wax sits at the top. It’s been burning for a while now. The lavender and vanilla scents waft into your nostrils. 

“Hey,” he says, stretching his neck to see if the entrance to your bedroom is pitch black, too. 

“It’s out for blocks,” you say, and your stomach tightens, feeling uneasy with him around.

He climbs out and approaches, standing next to you and looking out over the balcony. Goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Here again, huh? I told you to text me,” he says, appearing way more confident than the shy guy from your last encounter. 

“There wasn’t any noise, it's just kind of nice out here. And less crowded than the library. And I can wear my pajamas,” you add.

He lifts your textbook, holding the candle up and scouring the title. 

“Well, it makes sense why I’ve never seen you at school. We’re on the opposite ends of campus.”

He speaks like he wants you to ask more questions, eyes glued to you like a second opportunity. He’s so close and seems glad he stumbled upon you again. 

“Sometimes I'm out here and I see you go for a run and you don’t come back for hours.”

“I run to the gym, work out, and run back.”

“When do you find time to study?”

“I don’t. But, for what I want to do, being healthy will help.”

He looks at you, scanning your face in the candlelight.

It’s obvious now. Nothing to be questioned, but you still remember the heat of the embarrassment when he chose to go inside that last time. 

He takes a step closer, leaning in.

“Are you… ok in the dark?” he asks. 

“Yeah, I'm okay,” you say, knowing you’re only ok as long as your half-dead phone battery holds out. No emergency candles or supplies to mention. 

He’s close enough to smell again and your heart pounds against your chest. It’s dark. A little dangerous. 

“Do you mind some company?” He asks, eyes drifting down to your mouth. 

“I don’t mind,” you whisper. He leans in close and you speak before your lips meet. “Why didn’t you stay the first time?” you ask, unable to help yourself. 

He takes a deep breath, clearing his throat. “Because I found a beautiful woman in a vulnerable spot. Private. Studying. In her pajamas. I just didn’t want to be weird.” He takes a step closer. “And you make me kind of nervous, so I'm glad I have another chance.”

You laugh, feeling your heart pound, secretly grateful he feels this way too. “Why do I make you nervous?” You whisper. 

“Because for the past few weeks, all I can think about is my neighbor. And she’s been my neighbor for months, but I didn’t know she looked like this. And that she can hear me doing everything.” His voice is soft, forbidding, wrapping you up. “And I'm caught halfway between picking up and moving just for peace of mind and just,"  his voice drifts off and he twirls a strand of your hair around his finger. "Wishing the wall wasn’t there.”

You take a deep breath, feeling yourself fall deep. “The wall isn’t here now,” you say, closing the space between your lips. 

His hands immediately make their way to cup your ass, running up your waist and through your hair, hands exploring every inch of you he can’t see. 

You do the same, gliding your hands up his shirt and feeling the ridges of the stomach, drawing him closer. The stairs press against your back and you wince while loving the feeling of him between your legs. 

Reach your hand down to where the fabric of his shorts is tented, getting a grip on his hard length and letting it rub between your thighs. He gasps and presses his cock to you.

You lace a hand with him and guide him as you both climb into your bedroom window. He sets the candle down and gets both hands on you. 

He groans when he slips his hands beneath the waistband of your shorts and feels no underwear. He gets his hands under your ass cheeks, groping and feeling his fingers slip. He rubs at your slicked opening and presses against it. Your eyes roll back as you push your hips to him. 

“Fuck, how long have you been this wet?” He says, his warm breath hitting your face. His voice is deeper now, darker. 

“Before you stepped outside,” you say. “When I was just wishing you'd show up.” 

He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down to your ankles. He whispers. “Get on the bed.” You hear him wrestle with his own shirt in the dark. 

You walk backward until the mattress touches behind your knees and lay back. He crawls above you, kissing over your breasts and expertly slipping two fingers inside your pussy, causing you to gasp. 

He drags them out and moves wetness over your clit. You see stars at his rough rhythm. 

“Slower,” you guide, touching his wrist. And he does, slowing his fingers, but not letting up any pressure. 

“Like this?” He says you nod, forgetting he can’t see you. He takes the signal from your moans and circles his fingers, occasionally slipping them inside. The lewd squelching is somehow more emphatic in the dark. 

“Can I taste you?” He asks, through a panting breath. 

“Pleeease,” you moan, blissed out already. Can’t believe how eager you are. You can’t really come from being eaten out, but when he brings it up, you know it’s all you want. 

His warm breath hovers over your pussy and he goes right to the source, lapping at your opening and swiping his fingers to feed himself. 

It’s titillating to be actually eaten, hearing his delighted noises. Strange almost, especially in the dark. You stop thinking about it when he latches his mouth around your clit. 

It’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced. Usually, it’s a tongue flapping randomly and wildly over you with little effect. Like they're just guessing. 

There is no guessing here. He’s swallowing, taking the whole of your flesh in his mouth and sucking. Your thighs shake uncontrollably. Another first. 

He hooks an arm around your thigh and then his tongue starts, never letting off his suction, still sucking and releasing while never moving his lips away, gently running his tongue over the sensitive bud. 

You squirm and moan, uncaring and unaware of the sounds you’re making. He finally lets off. 

“Stay still for me?” And you freeze, willing to do anything to get his mouth on you like that again.

You anticipate his lips again but feel fingers plunge deep inside instead. He keeps them buried down to the webbing of his fingers, pulsing and pressing to the deepest part of you. 

Then, his mouth, bringing that precious suction that makes your muscle quiver. Even the vibrator doesn’t get this reaction. 

Everything burns at your core as you teeter on the edge. Gripping at the sheets, you bear down against him. He moans and the vibrations send you over the edge. 

He never stops his pace, staying with your body as you come. 

Coming down, you feel the mattress bowing as he grinds into the mattress, giving himself an enticing friction and feeling good for himself.

He rises up to your face, placing his skilled tongue right in your mouth. “Mph. I need to fuck you,” he groans. “Do you have?_”

“Yeah,” you say, before he can finish the sentence. You lean up and fumble in the darkness to pull a condom from the nightstand. 

“Lay back,” you whisper with a hand on his chest, the darkness giving you a certain confidence. You climb on top of him, nerves still shaky.

He reaches for the wrapper in your hand, but you pull it away. You drag your fingertips over his shaft and stroke over him a few times, cupping his balls, feeling his breath hitch and feeling even more sensation in the darkness. 

You open the wrapper and place the rubber on his tip, rolling it down with your hands until it's covered. 

He groans, pulling you down to kiss and prodding his tongue inside. You spread your thighs over his lap and he grips hard as you slide down onto him, digging nails into the flesh of your ass. He’s happy to be inside you twice, bucking his hips up.

You let him stretch inside you, starting a rhythm and rolling your hips. It feels incredible. Sensations moving from your swollen pussy and out to your fingertips. He runs his hands up your chest, feeling the weight of your tits in his hands. 

It's then when the lights come on, bright and harsh. You look up, blinded and distracted. Embarrassed. 

He takes your chin in his hand and forces your eyes on him. “Don’t stop fucking me,” he says, pulling your hips over his, getting you moving again, reminding you of what you need. “Please, don’t stop fucking me,” he whines.

You nod and grind on him, feeling him press against your walls. The sound is lewd and wet as you circle your hips, barely rising on his shaft. He watches you, eyes surveying your body as you move with his hands on your hips. Finally taking you in. 

He's so hot. Dark, sweaty hair sticks to his face. The faint light in the room allows his tattoos to be exposed. The sweat beads and pools between his chest and abs, tapering down to his little waist where your bodies are hot and connected. There’s simply too much for your eyes to take in. 

“God, you're gorgeous,” he says. 

“That's just what I was thinking,” you say, running your hands over his tight abs in response. 

He put the pads of his fingers on your clit and you gasp, still sensitive from your orgasm. He barely moves them, just presses them against your clit as you grind and move and bounce.

He takes a deep breath, trying to hold back his own orgasm. 

The pressure is too good, combined with the feeling of him pressed inside you to the deepest point. You can’t recognize the sounds coming from your mouth or explain the way your hips buck and grind above him.

“Oh my god,” he whines, and it's so hot. He loses himself as you cream and tighten around him, riding out another intense orgasm.

“Don't stop,” he moans. “Don't stop, ple_”

And you must muster everything to keep your body moving and grinding.

His jaw goes slack, head thrown back. You drag nails over his chest, acknowledging the goosebumps rising on his skin as he throbs inside. 

He releases the grip on your hips and you collapse on top of him. Panting and catching your breath, he leans up, carefully tying off the condom. 

You look at each other and laugh through your breath. He kisses you, running his hand through your hair. Drunk on each other. 

There's laughter and commotion on the other side of the wall, and he appears surprised. 

“Is this what it sounds like?" He asks, banging on the wall to his roommates on the other side. 

Coming Up... Taehyung ;)

[brewed-pangolin]

Have some more Soap x Mason for Super Soap Sunday

18+ Mildly NSFWish

Previous Interaction Here

You had completely lost track of time. Shift work taking its toll on your circadian rhythm to the point you had forgotten what day it was altogether.

Walking into the kitchen, back bent in exhaustion and a stride that was only just above zombie incarnate.

Opening the fridge, you eyed a Styrofoam box and flipped its top to spill the remnants of whatever days Chinese food into a bowl from the rack on the sink.

With a loud click, the door to the microwave swung open, and you were once again met with a familiar sight.

"Jesus fucking Christ," you muttered in restrained frustration. Rolling your eyes, stepping out of the kitchen to stand at the base of the staircase to fully release your starved irritation.

"Johnny! Get your goddamn fleshlight out of the microwave, you petulant celery stick fuck!"

"Eh, eh, eh...easy, hen. No need fer smearin' this early in th'mornin."

Turning on your heels to Soap's murmured voice from within the living room, you eyed his distinctive hawk as he peered his groggy blue stare over the back of the couch.

"S'ides. It ain't mine."

You parted your lips with a snarl, puffing your chest to expell another series of disgusted expletives. Only to be silenced as Mason came barreling down the staircase, pushing you aside as he swiftly plucked the pleasure device from the within the appliance.

"Sorry, love. Didn't think you'd be home til later," he said with a soft smile and an impish stare. Explaining his actions with ease and nonchalance that had your head spinning in confused disgruntlement.

"Are you just gonna stand there with your warmed up dick toy, Mason? Or can I eat my lo mein in peace?"

"I don't know. You want dinner and a show?"

A muffled gag erupted from within your throat at his provocative query. Tossing the left overs into the garbage, your appetite abruptly disappearing while making your way out of the kitchen.

"I'm moving out."

"Like hell you are, sweetheart." Mason replied while passing by and disappearing briskly up the staircase.

With a heavy sigh, you grabbed at your purse to make way up to heavenly seclusion.

"Eh, bonnie?" Soap called out, halting your ascension.

"What?"

"Ya like celery?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned to face him with a sardonic brow.

"Yeah. Sure. Why?"

Soap's eyes narrowed, shifting his gaze from you to the obvious tent in his sweatpants than back again.

"Got'a thick stock callin yer name, lass."

Your stomach folded in on itself at his decisive temptation, nearly bolting up the stairs. However the sudden tingling within your heat made you think otherwise.

Tossing your purse to the floor at the end of the stairs, you made your way down with a hungry glare. Joining Soap on the couch as he intended to feed a more carnal appetite.

-

The banter in this series is going to be epic. I'm so excited. Can't wait to get this AU finally started.

@deadbranch @ohgeesoap @efingart @writeforfandoms

Pockets Full of Stones Masterlist

[inaris-mage-of-storms]

}{ Part One }{ Part Two }{

"All right, boys, we're almost done!" Skizz locked the door behind the last customer. "Need any help in there, buddy?"

"All good here," called Jimmy from the kitchen, already scrubbing burnt cheese from a pan. "Won't take me long."

"That's my superstar," praised Skizz, grinning at the red ears and bright smile he caught a glimpse of before Jimmy ducked his head shyly. "Tango, you want paperwork today, maybe get off your feet for a minute after all those hours absolutely killing it?"

"Killing our customer rating, more like!" Jimmy glanced back over, the tightness of Tango's voice catching his attention. He was grinning, and the way his pitch rose wasn't unusual, but something about his demeanor felt...off.

"You handle the paperwork," continued Tango, glancing around the dining tables. "I'll take care of the absolute disaster zone in here. Just gonna step out for a minute first if that's okay."

Skizz sensed something off too, from the way he studied Tango's face before nodding and grabbing a clipboard. "You got it, Top. Anything I need to order, Jim?"

He scribbled down the items Jimmy called out to him while the register printed off its daily report, and Tango slipped out the back door.

"Is he okay?" Jimmy asked quietly.

"Aw, he's fine! Just needs a minute or two to decompress after that crazy day, that's all."

Skizz sounded cheerful enough, but Jimmy picked up on the no, but I don't want to worry you behind his words anyway, and frowned. He wanted to follow Tango, but there were still dishes to wash, a microwave to scrub, and counters to wipe down. Besides, Skizz had known Tango far longer than Jimmy had, and if he said Tango just needed a moment to himself, then Jimmy trusted his judgement.

He fell back into his post-shift rhythm, humming along to the radio. Tango would be fine. He might have been a little harder on himself than usual today, and their recent increase in customers would have stressed out the most experienced of waiters, but Tango was resilient! Jimmy loved how smart and supportive and sunshine-bright he -

It was muffled through the brick walls and closed door, but Jimmy and Skizz both heard the frustrated shout and clatter of trashcans against the pavement. Jimmy dropped the scrub brush into the dishwater, startled by the sudden noise that interrupted his thoughts.

"I've got him," he said immediately as Skizz poked his head out of the office with a concerned look. He untied his apron and tossed it onto a counter, not caring as it hit the edge and slid to the floor; he was already halfway to the door, anxious to comfort his rancher.

Two of their trashcans were turned over, contents spilled across the pavement and a new dent in the side of one of them that Jimmy suspected came from an angry kick. Tango was harder to spot, but Jimmy found him anyway, sitting against the wall with his knees drawn up and head buried in his arms.

He sat next to him, pressing their shoulders together but not saying anything. He could hear Tango forcing himself to breathe - in, out, in, out, shakily at first, slowing down bit by bit. Jimmy glanced at Tango's clenched fists and coaxed his arm away from his face. He massaged Tango's wrist with his fingertips, then the ball of his thumb, then his palm. Jimmy slowly worked his way up as Tango's fist relaxed, until he was able to lace their fingers together.

"Sorry."

Tango's mutter was so quiet that Jimmy felt more than heard it. "For what? Pretty sure you're not supposed to apologize for being amazing."

"Good thing I'm not amazing then! I'm the worst waiter. Every customer that left angry today - probably every one this week - was all my fault! I'm awful and we're going to get shut down any day and it's going to be because of me and all of your and Skizz's hard work will go to waste!"

With one hand captive, Tango's face was partially visible now, and his jaw was clenched so tightly Jimmy wondered if he was going to have a headache later. A hundred rebuttals swarmed in Jimmy's mind, but he suspected none of them would be believed.

"Okay, well, one, have you seen our profit margin lately? We could shut the doors for good tonight and it wouldn't be a waste," he said finally. "And two, what does that make me?"

A moment of silence, then Tango lifted his head to give Jimmy a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you're awful, then I must be the worst employee in the history of ever and then some. No, hear me out," he added as Tango opened his mouth to argue. "Look at how long you and Skizz have been doing this before I came along. Look at everything you've accomplished. You do so much for us. And you've got the hardest job handling customers! If I'm slow to get food out or Skizz falls behind on dishes, you get all the flak for it. Meanwhile I'm just the new guy who managed to set multiple microwaves on fire. Microwaves, Tango. If anyone's awful here, it's me."

"Don't do that." Tango's expression was pained. "Don't put yourself down trying to make me feel better."

"Then don't do it first," countered Jimmy. "Tell you what. I'll work on being kinder to myself if you promise to do the same. Because you are amazing, Tango, and I hate seeing someone I love be so hard on themselves. Especially when it's not deserved."

"...Okay. But you'd better keep up your end of the bargain. Because if anyone's amazing here, it's you." His despondent look slid into a smug smirk. "Someone you love, huh?"

Jimmy reddened and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Shut up. I love all of my friends."

"Yeah?" He could hear Tango's grin grow even wider. "You sit on the ground and hold hands with all your friends, too?" He squeezed Jimmy's hand lightly, but neither of them made any move to break apart.

"Unbelievable. I come out here to make sure you're all right and you start teasing me? Betrayal, utter betrayal," said Jimmy dramatically. "After all we've been through - "

The teasing was worth it, thought Jimmy with a smile. If it meant Tango never stopped laughing like that, it was all worth it.

[threesided]

I wrote something:

Rating: PG

Words: 1363

Category: M/M

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Relationship: Bill Cipher/Dipper Pines

Additional Tags: Alternative Universe: fae, mindbinding, bad ending.

(This is a way for me to practice writing)

To the Fae:

Oh, you pitiful thing, sang the ringing in his ears. Had it always been there or was it just now happening. He knows he needs to speak, scream. He’s being suffocated by the beetles, they encase him and there's no way out. 

Standing in front of the light rail - was nobody. A young man, standing on the station waiting for the train. Grey suit and coffee, and as the train approaches the vague feeling of wanting to jump in front of it. He hadn’t known his name, and he still doesn’t but he was Dipper now. It was picked for him by the things that were found with him when he had become lost. His hat had written on the inside, ‘Dipper’ there was no ID to say otherwise. Dipper steps onto the light rail and watches the door close. Off to work, his job at the company - he wasn’t sure what he did, but he knew that he had to work. He had to work and pay rent to live in his apartment, and he had to wake up at 6am to go for a jog before he went to work. 

As he looks out the window, he watches the street, other workers, and the morning rush. They all collectively wear grey or beige or brown or black suits and carry their bags that hold a prepacked lunch. There is a feeling Dipper knows that he can feel, just not sure which one it is as he washes out the visuals of the outside. His commute is long - Light Rail, the bus, and a ten-minute walk to his work. He works in a very tall skyscraper, on the 5th floor, with no view, except for the other offices of the other buildings. 

When Dipper gets to his desk, he finds a note, he has been moved again, to the other side of the office, he moves with no feeling, methodical movements. When he sits down, he looks at his emails. Nothing that really matters, but he responds to all of them with a smiley face or a ‘ha-ha, that's great!’ his face is not changing expression. The glare from his computer shining in his glossy eyes. Dipper works from 8 to 12:30 and gets up to have his pre-made lunch, a salad, same as the day before and the day before that. Dipper has a consistent routine, constant and unchanging, something he would never want to change. Or - something he couldn’t change. As he sits in the break room, he can hear the sounds of the microwave, and the blinking of the fluorescent lights, he hates fluorescent lights - or wait. No, he doesn’t. The ringing in his ears returns, he checks the time and returns to his desk. 

When he gets back home at the end of the day, he unlocks his door and enters his apartment, he flicks the light on, and he hears the familiar sounds of scattering as the beetles move from the floor to the walls and roof. Some of them fall from the roof and land on him. Dipper looks into the undulating wall and finds himself staring into its rhythm, as he does every day. The beetles are a bright gold, they are beautiful, they bring Dipper to his knees every day. He stares, filled with emotions, he feels - he doesn’t know what, but he can feel, and that suffocation of the world leaves him, he can breathe.

  “Why, what have I done?” Dipper whispers to himself and to the beetles. The beetles remain silent, still moving together. Their shells gleaming under the only light from his box apartment, the one window, a street light shines in. The gleam is hypnotic, he crawls into a ball on the floor, and falls asleep. 

When Dipper was found, his body was not hurt, he had most of his belongings. He had his phone, wallet, and travel kit. Nothing stolen, no ID, just blank cards in his wallet. He was in a state of catatonia, completely unresponsive. After a week in hospital, he slowly began to reply, with no memory of who he was or what he was doing in Gravity Falls. He had not been the only one. There had been five others, they had all moved to the city after the incident and had lived fruitful lives, with good jobs and nice homes. Dipper had joined them. No one had ever come forward as family nor had any of the people lost to the Gravity Falls forests.

Dipper was at work when he saw her, a woman with long blonde hair. She had approached him at his desk while he had been working. 

  “Dipper?” She says as she peeks at him from over the divider, looking at her bright eyes - bright eyes that make Dipper feel something. 

He looks at her without response, but this prompts her to move around into his space. 

“Oh goodness Dipper, it's me - Pacifica.” She says while Dipper stares at her blankly. 

“I don’t know you.” He mutters - but he swears he does. Or no, he swears he doesn’t. 

“It's been so long, since 12, I think! My family moved away, but we used to hang out as kids.” Pacifica says. 

Dipper watches her as she speaks, he thinks that she seems familiar and as he thinks that his mind wanders, thinking of his apartment. The beetles, the shifting gleaming bugs. The beetles.

“I don’t know you.” He mutters again, but his voice wavers, as he spins back to his desk monitor. He doesn’t see her leave, but when he finishes work, she isn’t there. He makes his way back to his house.

He unlocks the door to his apartment, the beetles scuttle around his feet, moving over him. He looks at the room, which isn't covered by the beetles. There wasn’t much, a couch, no lights. He hangs his backpack by the hanger on the back of the door. Instead of watching the bugs, which he normally does Dipper walks to the bedroom, inside is a bed. It is made, and looks untouched, vaguely Dipper realises he hadn’t slept on a bed in a long time. The beetles are in here too, they cover the floors and the walls, moving and scuttling around him. 

Dipper shoves off his suit jacket and pants and moves to the bed. The beetles crawl over his feet as he shuffles to the bed. He doesn't pull back the covers, but he lays on top of them. The mattress dips to fit his body and Dipper lets out a soft ‘oh’ he hadn’t had this kind of comfort in - Or it was just nice. He stares at the ceiling as the bugs scuttle up the walls and onto the roof. They move in patterns that bring Dipper peace and calm. They fall off the roof and onto him, onto his arms and legs, on his face into his eyes and on his mouth. Dipper still watches, the fallen bugs run down his body and onto the floor. 

The morning comes as Dipper wakes at 5:30AM, no alarm. Dipper just wakes at the time, as he realises, he is in bed, he feels his body, a soft comfort of the bed. He stretches and moves to get reading for his run. Yet. He could just sleep in. Or no. That’s not right and yet his body refuses to move, he lays still. The beetles that had danced him to sleep were still moving on his roof. They sang to him - it is a new day time to get up. Dipper lets out a breath, he doesn't want to. He gets up and lets the Beetles crawl over him. 

Dipper had a phone, but never felt the need or want to use it, but he digs it from the drawer, it's dead and he feels the pull to put it back and leave it. But he finds the charger and plugs it into the wall. He pushes the Beetles away and sits on the floor as his phone signals that it's charging. He turns the phone on, the beetles crawling over him and encasing him from the knees down, the beautiful gold is enticing, they moved over his legs shining from the sun, they looked as beautiful in the day as the night. 

Dipper gets up and checks the clock on the wall. Time to get to work.