#random thoughts because i was thinking about her today

[lyvhie]

hai!!! could i request a idol! mark smut :(( where reader is missing him but hes too busy with work but then he surprises her over the new years!!!

happy new year to u!!! <3 sending u hugs and kisses

a nice surprise | lee mark

mark lee x fem!reader (18+ mdni) ꒰ summary ꒱ you were already expecting to spend another special occasion alone, but your boyfriend just wanted to surprise you. ꒰ a/n ꒱ little edit! OOPS IT WASNT AN ANON HELP MEEE!! IM SORRY, CUTIE I DIDNT SEE YOUR NAME thats embarrassing omg 🫣 happy new year to you too! i'm sorry it took me so long to write, i was really sick 😖 BUT I FINISHED!! i hope you like it and ALSO wishing you aaaall the best this year, mwah! 💖 ꒰ cw ꒱ smut, oral (f), unprotected sex, pet names.

When you started dating a famous person, you knew things wouldn’t be easy. Paparazzi, overzealous fans, and the constant need for caution every time you stepped outside, those challenges came with the territory. You’d prepared yourself for it, and over time, those things became just another part of your daily routine, barely registering as problems anymore.

What you hadn’t expected, though, was how difficult the distance would be.

Being away from Mark for days, weeks, sometimes even months, felt like torture. The only thing keeping you sane was the existence of technology—video calls, texts, and voice messages filled the gaps when he was free. But it wasn’t the same. There were nights when the loneliness hit harder than usual, when a screen or the sound of his voice through the phone just couldn’t replace the warmth of his presence. You didn’t just want him; you needed him there, right beside you.

But you knew that, no matter how much you longed for his presence, things couldn’t just change on a whim. Mark couldn’t simply drop everything he was doing to spend a day with you—even though he’d suggested it more times than you could count. The thought alone made your heart ache and swell at the same time, knowing how much he cared but also understanding the weight of his responsibilities.

Still, Mark always found a way to remind you that you were on his mind, no matter how far apart you were. Like the random voice notes he’d send in the middle of the night, whispering about his day because he knew you'd listen to them first thing in the morning. Or the surprise delivery of your favorite snacks and flowers with a note that simply read, "Thinking of you. Always."

It wasn’t the same as having him there, but it was enough to keep you going.

“So… you really won’t be here tonight?” The disappointment in your voice was clear as you lay on your bed, hugging the pillow tightly and pressing your cellphone against your ear. “You couldn’t make it for Christmas, and now this…”

He was supposed to come home today, and at least start the year with you after weeks without seeing each other. But something went wrong with their flight, and now they’d have to wait two more days to board another plane. Two days might not seem like much, but after being apart for so long, the thought of waiting two more days felt like an eternity.

“I know it’s frustrating, I really wanted to be there with you,” you could hear his sigh on the other end of the line. “I promise I’m doing everything I can to get home to you as soon as possible. These two days will fly by, I’ll make it up to you when I get there. Just a little longer, okay? I miss you so much.”

The warmth in his voice made the ache in your chest a little more bearable, but it still didn’t take away the longing you felt. “I miss you too, love, you have no idea,” you said, letting out an exasperated sigh. “I wanna see you so bad, Mark.”

“I know,” he replied softly. “I wanna see you too. Just hang in there for me, okay? I’ll be there before you know it.” Before he could say more, you heard faint voices in the background followed by his hum. “Baby, I… I hate to do this, but my manager’s calling me. I have to go,” he said reluctantly.

“It’s okay,” you chuckled softly, imagining the little pout that was surely on his face. “Go do what you need to do.”

“I’ll call you as soon as I can, okay? Promise. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

And just like that, the call ended, leaving the room enveloped in quiet once more, the only sound now your soft breathing. You let out a long sigh, staring at the ceiling. It was just you and the silence again.

But the quiet didn’t last long. Three firm knocks on your front door echoed through the room, loud enough to pull you from your thoughts. You glanced at the time on your phone—it wasn’t exactly the hour for unannounced visits, and you weren’t expecting anyone. Well, not anymore, anyway. Maybe it was your neighbor, they had an uncanny knack for finding reasons to complain about the tiniest sounds.

You let out a small groan and shouted, “I’m coming!” as another knock sounded, dragging yourself out of bed.

“Hi, how can I—” The words died on your lips the moment you saw who was standing at the door. Your eyes widened, and your jaw slackened as your hand remained frozen on the doorknob.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mark greeted you with that boyish smile you adored, a cute teddy bear in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other. The sight of him left you speechless, your heart racing as if it couldn’t quite believe what it was seeing.

Before you knew it, you had thrown yourself into his arms, the force of your embrace nearly causing the teddy bear and chocolates to slip from his grip. He caught you effortlessly, as if he had been waiting for this moment as much as you had. Your arms tightened around him, your face burying into his shoulder as his familiar scent washed over you, sweeping away the loneliness of the past weeks in an instant.

Mark managed to nudge the door shut behind him and guided you both further inside. Without breaking the hug, he set the teddy bear and chocolates down on a nearby surface, his hands quickly finding their way back to you. His arms wrapped around you firmly now, holding you close, as if he never wanted to let go.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands cupping his face as if making sure he was real. “You’re really here?” you asked softly, your eyes scanning every inch of his familiar features.

“I’m really here,” he replied with a chuckle, leaning into your touch. He couldn’t help but find it adorable how you stared at him like he was some kind of alien. Covering your hand with his, he turned his head slightly to press a tender kiss to your palm.

“So… all that stuff about the airplane was a lie?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeky grin was all the answer you needed.

“I wanted to make a—” he started, but his explanation was cut off as your hands playfully squished his cheeks.

“Mark Lee!” you scolded, though the smile breaking across your face betrayed your mock anger.

Mark laughed softly as he tried to wiggle free from your hands, his grin never leaving his face. “Okay, okay, I deserved that,” he said, eyes sparkling with affection. “I thought it would be a good surprise, sorry.”

You let go of his cheeks, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders, then gently on his chest as you looked up at him. There was a moment of silence, the playful energy from before softening into something deeper, more intimate. You searched his eyes, your voice quieter, more sincere.

“And it was,” you whispered, your heart full as you leaned in slightly. “God, it was. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I’m finally here too, I missed you so much,” Mark said softly, his voice thick with emotion. It was his turn to cup your face gently between his hands, his gaze soft as he looked at you, almost as if he was memorizing the moment. Without another word, he leaned in, bringing his lips to yours in a warm, affectionate kiss that felt like home, his love for you pouring into every second.

The kiss lingered for a moment, slow and tender, as if both of you were savoring the reunion, letting the warmth of each other fill the space between you. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

“You’re really here,” you whispered again, as if you couldn’t quite believe it, the words tumbling out like a soft confession.

Mark chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m here, baby. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, a rush of relief and joy flooding through you. You leaned in again, kissing him once more, this time deeper, pulling him even closer, as if you couldn't get enough. Mark’s hand found its way to the back of your neck, his other hand sliding down to your waist, rubbing slow circles that made you melt into him.

“Mmh, I missed that too,” he murmured against your lips, his smile evident in his voice as his hands toyed with the waistband of your pants.

“Mark…” you tried to sound stern, your tone a mix of warning and amusement as you attempted to pull away. But he wasn’t having it, his lips quickly chasing yours, capturing them in another kiss.

“What?” he asked innocently, though the playful glint in his eyes betrayed him. His hands slid lower, cupping your ass with a firm squeeze that had your breath hitching, pulling you impossibly closer to him. “You act like you don’t like it,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with affection.

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth spreading through your chest made it hard to be truly annoyed. “I didn’t say that,” you muttered, trying to keep a straight face.

“Exactly,” he smirked, his grip on you tightening slightly. “So let me make up for all the time I’ve been away.”

Before you could say anything more, he silenced you with another kiss, gently guiding you backward toward the bedroom. You didn’t try to protest or stop him, simply letting the moment continue as your arms wrapped around his neck. As you passed through the bedroom door, Mark felt his mind drift into a state of calm. The entire space carried your scent, wrapping around him like a warm embrace. It was just another one of the countless things he missed—the feeling of being surrounded by everything that reminded him of you.

Mark gently laid you down on the bed, his lips staying connected to yours as he followed you. The comforting weight of his body against yours made everything else fade away. His kisses began to wander, trailing from your jaw to your neck, then down to your collarbone and the delicate valley between your breasts.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, watching his every move as your heart pounded in your chest, loud enough that you were sure he could hear it. With slow, deliberate movements, he lifted your shirt, his lips continuing their journey downward, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses along your belly. The soft sensation sent a ripple of tingles through you, drawing a quiet chuckle from your lips.

Mark glanced up at the sound, a side smile gracing his lips before he returned to his path, stopping just at the waistband of your pants. His gaze lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his eyes stealing your breath and leaving you speechless, your entire body attuned to his next move.

Mark’s hands lingered at your waistband, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin, igniting a trail of warmth that made your breath catch. His gaze never wavered from yours, searching your eyes as if silently asking for permission. When you nodded, the smallest movement, he leaned up to kiss you again. Soft, tender, and unhurried, as though he wanted to savor every second. His hands worked deftly, slipping your pants down inch by inch, his lips following their descent with featherlight kisses that sent shivers up your spine.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin as his lips traced a path along the inside of your thighs. Every kiss, every gentle press of his hands, carried a tenderness that left no doubt about how much he’d missed you, full of care and unspoken longing.

Your heart raced as you took him in, the contrast of his soft, adoring gaze and the undeniably seductive way he moved leaving you breathless. He looked so unfairly perfect—both sweet and completely enticing—positioned between your legs, his intentions written clearly in his eyes.

“Mark…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly. You weren’t even sure if it was meant to ground yourself or encourage him further, but the smirk that tugged at his lips told you he knew exactly the effect he was having on you.

And you didn’t need to say anything more. His mouth had already found its way to your center, the thin fabric of your underwear doing little to shield you from the heat of his tongue as it teased over the delicate material. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your breath coming in a long, shaky sigh as your eyes dropped to meet his. The way he looked at you, so intent and unrelenting, only made the anticipation coil tighter in your core.

He didn’t make you wait long. His tongue moved purposefully, pressing against the sensitive bundle of nerves even through the fabric, a sensation so electrifying it had your fingers clutching the sheets beside you. The soft suction that followed had a breathy moan slipping from your lips, unbidden and raw.

“Mark…” you whispered his name again, your voice a mix of need and surrender, your hips subtly arching toward him, silently begging for more.

His only answer was a soft hum that sent a gentle vibration through you, causing a soft whimper to escape your lips. His teeth gently tugged at your panties, pulling them down slowly, all while his gaze remained locked on yours.

Needless to say, you were already dripping, and that sight made his heart swell with pride. No matter how many times he found himself in this position, the view of you laid out before him always felt as thrilling as the first time. His gaze lingered for a moment, taking in every detail before he leaned in, planting a soft kiss on your clit.

The gentle press of his lips against your sensitive spot sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you gasp softly. His tongue darted out, circling around the delicate bundle of nerves with a teasing precision that had your eyes fluttering shut and your head falling back against the pillow.

He watched your reaction, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, before sliding his tongue down, parting your slick folds and licking through your slit. His movements were slow, deliberate, savoring every taste as he explored you.

Another moan left your lips as he continued, the warmth of his mouth combined with the skillful flicks of his tongue driving you crazy. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he worked, his own excitement growing with every shudder and whimper he drew from you.

His tongue continued its journey, alternating between long, languid licks and quick, focused flicks over your clit, building you up slowly, savoring every moment of your pleasure.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, gently pulling as your hips moved instinctively against his mouth. The sensation of his tongue, combined with the heat pooling in your core, was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself getting closer with each stroke.

Mark glanced up, catching the blissed-out expression on your face, and it only spurred him on. He flattened his tongue, dragging it up slowly from your entrance to your clit, then wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking gently. The change in pressure had you gasping, your thighs trembling around his head.

“You taste so good," he murmured against your skin, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands now gripped your hips tighter, anchoring you as he continued to work his magic, bringing you closer and closer to the release you craved.

Your breaths came quicker, each exhale accompanied by a moan. "Mark... I'm so close," you whimpered, your voice strained with need.

He didn't let up, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm, drawing out every ounce of pleasure from you. One of his hands slipped down, his thumb finding your clit to rub in tandem with his tongue, sending you over the edge.

Your body tensed, a wave of ecstasy washing over you as you came undone beneath him. A cry of his name escaped your lips, your back arching as he continued to lap at you, helping you ride out the high.

As the tremors subsided, he pulled back slightly, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes filled with satisfaction and adoration. He crawled up to meet your gaze, brushing a stray hair from your face and leaning in to capture your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

Your hands roamed down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, your fingers slipping under his shirt, tugging at the fabric. Mark's breath hitched slightly, the desire in his eyes deepening as he pulled back just enough to shed his shirt, revealing his bare chest. You ran your hands over his skin, savoring the warmth beneath your fingertips as he leaned down, capturing your lips again.

He shifted, pressing himself against you, and you could feel the hard outline of his arousal through his pants. Your hand moved between you, palming him gently, eliciting a soft groan from his lips, your touch becoming more intended as you began to unbutton his pants, sliding them down his hips.

He kicked them off, his body pressing back into yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Mark positioned himself, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly pushed into you, the both of you releasing a simultaneous sigh of relief.

“You feel so good," he whispered, his hands cradling your face as he kissed you deeply. Mark's movements remained gentle, each thrust slow and purposeful, as if he wanted to memorize every sensation, every reaction from you. The room was filled with soft sighs and the quiet rustle of sheets as you clung to him.

His pace quickened slightly, the friction building a delicious tension between you both. You arched into him, your hands threading through his hair as you whispered, "I'm close again.” The sensitivity from your previous climax heightened every sensation, making your body tremble beneath him.

Mark's forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locking with yours as he adjusted his angle slightly, hitting the perfect spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Let go for me, love" he coaxed, his voice soothing, full of love.

With his encouragement, you felt the wave of pleasure cresting again, your body tensing as you cried out his name. The intensity of your release pulled him closer to the edge, and with a few more thrusts, he followed. A groan escaped his lips as he pulled out, spilling himself onto your belly, the warmth of his release spreading between you as he shuddered, his breath ragged.

Mark collapsed gently beside you, his breathing ragged as he pulled you into his arms, holding you close. The warmth of his body against yours was comforting, and the soft rise and fall of his chest helped calm your racing heart.

For a while, you both stayed like that, in silence, just holding each other, the only sound in the room was the soft rhythm of your breaths, gradually returning to normal. The warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, and neither of you felt the need to break the tranquility of the moment.

Mark kissed the top of your head and was about to speak when a loud thud echoed from the wall of the bedroom. His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at you, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern and you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound filling the room.

"I guess we made the neighbor mad again."

↝ taglist: @yizhrt, @sinisxtea, @peterm4rker.

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Oh god even more Mentally Unwell Wade? Always. This is how I deal with my own mental health.

Wade chatters to himself, normally about random topics or his opinions on the weirdest of things- why Jellyfish would make good therapist, would madusa have to feed her hair, if emojis are todays hieroglyphics- lots of random topics. He does so half because ADHD brain, half because he doesn't like the sounds of his own thoughts. He speaks at a normal volume or louder when doing this.

He mumbles under his breath if he thinks he might be hallucinating. Soft quick words that normal people would ask him to speak up, not Logan tho. Logan can hear.

He learns quick- rambling is normal, mumbling is concerning. Thats is until it's not.

There are some hallucinations that are kind of normal for Wade. Like Boris, the large hairball cat thing. Wade named it so it was less stressing. Logan can hear him mumbling in the other room:

"God damn it Boris, don't pop up like that. I know you can't help it but come on."

"Boris, I'm starting to think you like me too much"

"Oh shit Boris, my man. As a interdimensional hairball cat thing, what is your opinion on Nutella?"

At first Logan would hover near by concerned, which would just cause Wade to shut down more. But eventually he started asking about Boris.

"If Boris is around so much, he should pitch in some fucking rent"

The day Logan did that changed everything. Wade didn't feel like he was being judged for what his brain was doing, that this wasn't something to fear. His brain was just mean sometimes and showed him Boris. Logan was fine with Boris, could deal with Boris. So Wade could too.

[atlafan]

Bad Medicine - Prologue + Part 1

a/n: you can read this 8-part, completed fic on Patreon now! I always like to post the first part of a completed work here to give yall a taste. Consider joining my Patreon today to read the rest of this fic, and the many others I have on there. Happy Friday! Warnings: grief, funerals, a ton of sexual tension. best friend's little sister/brother's best friend trope Words: 10K Patreon

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Prologue

Harry

It was sudden and unexpected. But even when you’re given the time to prepare, you still fall apart when it happens, so there’s no difference.

My best friend died. We’re only thirty-one, this shouldn’t be happening yet. But a brain aneurysm doesn’t care how old you are, apparently. Tim hadn’t felt well one afternoon. We all thought he was dehydrated, so he went to lay down. When his mother went upstairs to check on him, his body was unmoving, and he had no pulse.

The Bakers are a close family. I had the privilege of being pulled in when Tim and I became friends. Tim’s father, Adam, died a long time ago, it was a mixture of lung cancer and high cholesterol. When he died, he left quite a bit of land to Tim and I. Tim’s mother, Georgette, had already known about this, but it came as a complete shock to Tim and I.

“It’s so you two can build the ranch back up, make it better.” Georgette had smiled somberly. “We didn’t think you’d be getting it quite so soon.”

My grandmother had raised me, but when she got too old to take care of herself, we had to sell our home. I moved her into the best assisted living facility I could find, and the Bakers invited me to come live with them. I barely needed to take them up on their offer because this happened around when Tim and I were set to go to college. We both got football scholarships at the same school. It was perfect. But I’d stay with them when I’d come home on breaks, and I had been going to their house since I was five. The Bakers have always been family.

Since Adam died when we were fifteen, our after-school jobs became mowing, fence mending, dirt packing, stall mucking, and so on. We worked our asses off to bring Black Beauty Ranch to life. Georgette was a big help with the logistics. She had grown up on a cattle ranch, so she knew the ins and outs of buying and selling cattle, horses, chickens, and so on. She knew the best vets to come in and check on the animals, she knew how to help the animal through giving birth, and she knew how to give horse riding lessons. She of course taught us all of that too, so by the time Tim and I graduated from college, we were ready to take the reins.

We built a big, beautiful house for ourselves. The land wasn’t too far from the Baker’s original house, so we created a throughway and had Georgette stay living there, while Tim and I lived in our big house. We call Georgette’s house Girl House, and we call mine and Tim’s Boy House. It was stupid, but because Tim’s little sister stayed with Georgette, and they were girls, it made sense for that to be called the girl house because that’s what it was. Rowan was actually the one to give us the idea. Not living with Georgette gave us the much needed independence we craved. We didn’t want to have to answer to anyone about who may or may not be sleeping over, and Tim didn’t want Rowan seeing random women coming and going.

After we built the boy house, we worked on smaller, ranch-style homes that the ranch hands could live in, if they so choose. We used several as Air BnB’s to offset different costs, and we even converted one of the barns into an event space so people could have their wedding receptions or parties here.

Families rented our horse stables, our horses too, and we offered lessons. The ranch hands did a superb job of keeping the cattle healthy, along with the other animals. We’ve made this place into a well-oiled machine. Even Rowan stepped up a few years back to do some freelance social media management for us. She set up an email marketing schedule, ads on different social networking sites, all of that shit. I don’t understand much of it. I think I only have Instagram and Facebook as apps on my phone, and that’s just to stay in touch with a few people and to switch into the business accounts to answer questions.

It wasn’t until a little later that it was revealed as to why Adam left his nearly 6,000 acres to us. His brother, Glen, thought he was going to get everything since the Baker home had been a generational family home. He only got the Baker General Store in town, and he ended up having to sell it because of the 2008 recession. He had that little bit of cash and nothing else. He’s tried to weasel his way into Black Beauty Ranch, but Georgette has been good about keeping him out of our business. The land was in a trust, split between me and Tim. Glen was pretty pissed when we met with the family attorney to go over Adam’s will.

“How could he do this to me, I’m his brother! That boy isn’t even related to us!” Glen had shouted, scaring Rowan. I’ll never forget seeing her little body tremble as she hung on to Tim.

“It doesn’t matter! This is what Adam and I wanted. We wanted to ensure the kids would be set up for long after we’re gone. Tim needed a partner, and Harry’s practically family. His grandmother babysat you and Adam when you were kids, remember?”

“So that makes him family?”

“Maybe I should go.” I had said, not wanting to cause any drama.

“Harry, it’s alright. Glen’s just being a baby.” Georgette said, then looked at Glen. “You’re getting the general store, what’s the big deal?”

“I already had the general store.”

“You had half of the general store. Adam left you his share. You only want the acreage so you can convert it into a subdivision and sell bits and pieces of it for people to build shitty homes on. The land will be a better use for Black Beauty.”

“What a stupid name.” Glen seethed.

“I picked it out.” Little Rowan had mustered the courage to say. “The boys let me.”

“It’s her favorite movie.” Tim said. “And we wanted her to feel like she had a say in things.”

“There are, like, eight different Black Beauty movies.” Glen ran a hand down his face. “This is insane!”

“It doesn’t matter. This is what Adam wanted, and I signed off on it when we put all of this together.” Georgette said. “This isn’t something you can contest. My husband died.” She took a step towards him. “The love of my life is gone forever, you don’t want to fuck with me right now, Glen.”

It was the first time I had ever heard Georgette use a curse word. The room fell completely silent, and that was that.

The ranch is really starting to turn a profit now. It’s been good for the town of Hawthorn, thanks to all of the jobs the ranch created. Other ranches and farms buy our cattle to sell to markets because ours aren’t pumped full of hormones or other bullshit. And even though somedays it feels like back-breaking labor, I love what I do.

But Tim’s dead now, so I have no idea how I’m going to manage the ranch on my own. Sure, Georgette is still here to help, but I can’t rely on her forever. I’m going to need to talk to Rowan when she gets here for the funeral. Maybe she can help out in the interim. She hasn’t lived at home in quite some time, but maybe she wouldn’t mind not paying rent for a while, that could sweeten the deal a bit considering she lives in LA where the rent is astronomical.

We all decided to meet at the boy house since that’s where everyone will go after the service. Georgette is already down in my kitchen. I’m just getting my tie tied when I hear Georgette exclaim, “She’s here!”. Hopefully her loud voice didn’t send my Granny into shock. She’s ninety, she can’t handle much these days.

I make my way downstairs, give Granny a kiss on the top of her head before topping up her coffee, and then the wind is knocked out of me when Georgette brings Rowan into the house.

She looks the most grown up I’ve ever seen her, like…like a real woman. All she has on is a simple, black dress, but there’s something different about her.

Before I can greet her, she’s throwing herself into me, crying, “Oh, Harry!” She sobs into my chest, and I have no idea what to do. I don’t want to hold her too tight. She’s already pressed up against me, I don’t need to feel any more of her than I already do. I decide to just pat at her shoulder. “I’m sorry, I know you all are sad too, I just don’t know how I’m going to get through this.” She pulls back and wipes under her eyes. “I can’t believe he’s really gone. Oh! Hi, Granny Styles.” She throws her arms around Granny. “How are you feeling?”

“Any time I sit, I have to sit on a donut or else my back hurts for a week. How the hell do you think I’m feeling?”

“Granny.” I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t be nasty to Ro, hm? Her brother died.”

Granny rolls her eyes. Losing a sibling is child’s play to her. She was forced to bury her son and daughter-in-law on the same day. There’s really no coming back from that kind of grief. But the upside is, Georgette has someone to talk to about what it feels like to lose a child.

“The town car is here.” Georgette says. “I’ll sit with Granny in the second row of seats, you two can sit in the back row. It’s nice that no one will have to sit up front with the driver. When Adam died, they wouldn’t let Ro sit on my lap, so they made Glen go sit up front. Come to think of it, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.”

“I’m glad he’s not riding with us to the cemetery.” Rowan says. “Why isn’t he, though? Since he’s immediate family.”

“I asked the undertaker if they could send a separate car to his house since your aunt and cousins are coming.”

We all head outside to the car, and I help Granny inside before rounding the car to open the other door for Georgette. Then I open the door for Rowan before going around the car again to get in on the other side. We’re all quiet, knowing that if we speak at this point, we’ll all just burst into tears. I, for one, would prefer to save my tears for the service.

We’re not late by any means, but we’re not the first to arrive. A few of the ranch hands are already here, as well as some friends from high school, and Tim’s ex-girlfriend, Delia.

Fuck. They broke up about six months ago, she must be devastated. I leave Georgette, Rowan, and Granny to go over to her.

“Hey.” I say.

“Hi.” Her voice cracks and I open my arms to hug her. She comes to me easily. When I feel her stomach meet mine rather quickly, I step back and look down. She’s wearing a long coat. She notices me looking at her stomach and she sighs, opening her jacket. “I was going to tell him.” She takes a deep breath and closes her jacket back up. “I wanted to wait until I knew if I even wanted to keep it or not. I didn’t know if I wanted to be attached to Tim for the rest of my life. But…when a few months went by, I thought about how much of a great dad he would be. So…so I was going to come here and tell him, and…and see if he wanted to try to make things work. I can’t believe I waited so long. I…” She buries her face back into my chest and I hold her.

“How far along are you, exactly?” I can’t help but ask.

“Almost five months. We had one last spontaneous romp when we bumped into each other at a concert. We both had been drinking and…well, you know, sometimes these things happen.”

“I have to ask the uncomfortable question: are you sure it’s his?”

“That’s valid.” She sighs. “I haven’t slept with anyone else. I went on a few dates after Tim and I broke up, but when I found out I was pregnant, I decided to focus on myself.”

“Alright.” I run a hand through my hair. “Tensions are high today. Come back to the house after the service. I think Georgette will be really excited about having a grandbaby. And we can give you a place to live, money towards pre-natal care, stuff like that, if you need it. I know how conservative your parents are…do they know?”

“No, I’m going to tell them after the baby’s born. I’m afraid they’d find a way to push me down the stairs or something. Your kindness and hospitality is much appreciated.”

“It’s what Tim would want.” I smile softly.

“I can’t believe how grown-up Rowan looks.” Delia nods towards her. “I mean, I know she’s twenty-six, but this is one of the first times it’s hit me that she’s not a little girl anymore.”

“I was thinking the same thing earlier.”

“Yeah? You were checking her out?” Delia smirks, and I feel my cheeks grow hot.

“No.” I say defensively. “Don’t be gross, Dee.” I shake off my embarrassment when I see Glen, his wife Priscilla, his son Malcom, and his daughter Elma. “I better go say hi to them. There are chairs if you need to sit.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

I go over to Glen and his family just as they’re wrapping up their hellos. I shake his hand and do my best to smile at my surrogate aunt and cousins. Me, Tim, and Malcom all graduated in the same year. I think Malcom was always jealous that Tim and I were closer, but the three of us did just about everything together for a while. And for the most part, we got along just fine.

“Isn’t it just terrible that funerals are the only times we really get together?” Elma dabs her eyes with a tissue. She’s three years younger than us. And even though I was never interested, Malcom gave me the, ‘don’t ever touch my sister’, talk when we were in high school, and he reminded me again when she turned eighteen. Then he got offended when I told him I’d never want to go out with Elma.

Malcom is just like his father in that he never understood why Tim and I never cut him in for partial ownership of the ranch. He claimed he could help and be useful, but this was something Adam had left to only Tim and myself, probably for a good reason, so we never cut Malcom in. Malcom is successful in his own right, having opened up his own real estate agency, not so cleverly called, Baker Realty. Elma is his accountant. Despite her faults, she’s a fucking whiz with numbers, I have to give her that. Neither of them are married with kids.

“Mrs. Baker.” The reverend comes over to us, addressing Georgette and not Priscilla. “We’ve filled in considerably. I think it’s time you all take your seats so we can begin. I believe Mrs. Styles is already sitting.”

“Yeah, Granny sat down right away.” I say and give Georgette my arm. I almost trip when Rowan takes my other arm. We all sit down in the front row of seats. I sit by Granny, Georgette sits next to me, and Rowan is on her other side. The rest of the family fills in the other seats. Delia sits behind us. I’m glad she’ll be off her feet for a bit. I feel Granny put her hand over mine and I turn to look at her. All she does is look at me and give me a soft smile. “Are you alright?” I whisper.

“It’s a terrible thing, to bury your child. It’s bringing back some tough memories, but I’m more so worried about you. You and Tim were attached at the hip. So, you just squeeze Granny’s hand any time it becomes to be too much, just like you did at your parents’ funeral.”

I kiss her temple then interlock our fingers. I don’t know what I’m gonna do when she eventually kicks the bucket.

The second the reverend begins, I feel my eyes water. Out of my peripheral, I can see tears sliding down Georgette’s cheeks. Rev talks about how we should look at things as a celebration of life and the ways we can keep Tim alive in our hearts going forward. Then he steps aside so others can speak. I take a deep breath and stand up first.

“To quote Emily Dickinson, ‘my friends are my estate’. This was true for Tim. Land, money…none of that mattered to him as long as his family was happy and healthy. Tim had to grow up fast after his father died. He stepped into the ‘man of the house’ role seamlessly. He took on a lot and never complained. Tim and I have been friends since kindergarten. I was instantly pulled in as a member of the Baker family. I’ll always be grateful to him for giving me a sense of normalcy. The world will be different without Tim.” Tears start sliding down my face, but I’m still able to speak without hiccups. “It hasn’t completely set in that I’ll never be able to go fishing with him, or go for a ride on our horses, or even muck out a stall with him again. Tim was my best friend, my brother…and I loved him.” I look back at his casket. “I’ll miss you, buddy.” I sit back down and Georgette mouths, ‘thank you’.

Rowan goes up next, but she’s only able to get a few sentences out before she has to sit back down. A couple of other friends share some kind words about Tim, and then we’re all standing up as he’s lowered into the ground. Rowan’s sob breaks me out of my trance. She sounds like she’s been stabbed. Turning to her, I open my arms and let her hug and hold onto me. She clutches to the lapels of my suit jacket, and I wrap my arms around her, resting my chin on the top of her head.

“It’s okay, honeybee.” I say, just above a whisper, “We’ll get through this.”

I see Malcom and he’s already looking at me, narrowing his eyes. I have no idea why.

We’re all eventually pried away from the gravesite, and back at the boy house. People are eating and drinking and sharing more stories about Tim. Some people are still crying, but it seems like everyone has a shoulder to lean on. I head into my home office for a minute alone, and to grab a beer out of the minifridge. Tim and I shared this space. We always joked around that it looked like an old detective’s office, with the desks pressed back-to-back.

Just as I’m taking the cap off my beer, Rowan comes in and closes the door behind her.

“We’re doing everything with the will tomorrow. Your mom figured Glen would put up a stink, and we didn’t want that happening today.”

“I wasn’t coming in here to talk about that. Delia just told us she’s pregnant and that you said she could live here if she needed to.”

“I’ll have her stay in your mom’s house. I don’t want her coming to me as some sort of surrogate boyfriend, or father to her baby.”

“I’m…gonna have to move back here to help out…aren’t I.” It’s not a question.

“I’m sure your mom would appreciate it.”

“The second I come back here, she’s going to-“

“Rowan, now really isn’t the time to be a whiny brat.” I snap. “None of this matters right now. Your brother died, can we just get through his funeral before we make things all about you?” I take a swig of my beer before setting it down. “I know you have a whole other life in LA. I’m not gonna twist your arm to make you come back, but it sure as shit would be nice if you did. I can’t run the ranch by myself, and I can’t rely on your mom. Tim would have wanted you to take over his share, and I’m fairly certain that’s stated in his will.”

“I’ll have to quit my job…I wouldn’t be able to come back right away. I’ll need to drive my car back. I’ll need help.”

“I’ll have your mom fly out to help you, and then she can drive back with you.”

“Not you?”

“No, I’ll be needed here.”

“Where would I live? If Delia’s gonna move in with Ma…are any of the smaller ranch houses available? You must save a couple for the Air BnB.”

“They’re all booked out, and all of the other houses are taken. If one opens up, it’ll go to Delia. She’ll only want to live with your mom for so long.”

“So…I’d live here?”

“What’s wrong with your house? It’s not like Delia’s taking over your room.”

“I cannot live under the same roof as my mother again.”

“Cut her some slack.”

“Right now, I have all the freedom in the world. If I move back in with her, she’s gonna start up with house rules and other bullshit.”

“And you think there wouldn’t be rules here with me?” I smirk, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because let me tell you, young lady, I have rules.”

“Oh?” She smiles, and it’s rather…flirty. I’m suddenly aware that we’re alone in a room with the door closed. “And what might those be?”

“You really want to live with me? This house is huge, but it’s not like every bedroom has an en suite. We’d be sharing a bathroom, this office-“

“I won’t mind being around you so much. I never have.” There she goes, being flirty again.

“Let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it, okay?”

“Okay.” She sighs. “Anyways, I only came in here to take a break from everyone. Thank you for speaking so nicely before. I wish I could’ve gotten all my words out.”

“You did your best. It’s not easy.”

“I should go check on Delia. She and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

I watch Rowan leave, biting into my cheek as I watch her hips sway. Did she have to wear such a tight dress? It’s completely appropriate with its high neckline, and it goes down just above her knees, but the way it accentuates her…assets…

I sit down at my desk and sigh, feeling sad when I look up and don’t see Tim sitting across from me. It’s at this time, I notice an envelope on my desk with my name on it. It’s Tim’s handwriting. I open it immediately:

“Harry, if I’m to perish in an untimely manor, there’s something you need to know. If I’m not around, then I won’t be there to make sure Rowan is alright. Even though she doesn’t come home as often, if something happens to me, she’ll come home. I want you to look out for her the same way I did. She’ll need a positive male force in her life, and I don’t want Uncle Glen or Malcom trying to do that. It has to be you.

This isn’t my secret to tell, but you should know that Rowan has a major crush on you. She does a good job to hide it, but I’m not an idiot, it’s clear from the way she looks at you. I don’t think you ever would, but my wish is that you never start a romantic relationship with her.

My reasoning behind this isn’t because you can be sort of promiscuous. I’ve seen you have wonderful relationships, so it’s not that I don’t think you’re capable. And it’s not because I don’t think you’re worthy of my sister. But if you were to ever get together, and it didn’t work out, there would be a rift between you and my family going forward. Tensions would rise, and it could ruin the peace we’ve built at Black Beauty. Even if you fall in love with her and truly think you could make it, don’t go after her. If she flirts with you or asks you out, turn her down. It’ll hurt and it’ll suck, but it’s what has to be done.

I know this seems insane, but I never want you to be on bad terms with my family. So, please, honor this wish of mine.”

I’m stunned. Did he really think I would ever jeopardize everything we’ve worked for? Flush sixteen years of work down the toilet just so I could fuck his sister? I don’t even like Rowan like that. And what was all that shit about her having a crush on me? I suppose the flirting makes sense, but that could also just be playfulness. I’ve never noticed her looking at me or anything. But then again, I was never looking at her.

Not until today.

What else is odd is that Tim never verbally spoke with me about this. Since Rowan is a decent chunk younger than us, he never had to give me the ‘don’t touch my sister’ talk the way Malcom felt the need to do with Elma. And why wouldn’t John just give this to me tomorrow when he reads out the will? Who found this, and who put it here?

This is not good. Not good at all.

**

Part One

Rowan

When my mother called to tell me that Tim had died suddenly, I was in a state of shock. I didn’t believe it, but also put her on speaker so I could immediately book my flight out to Hawthorn.

I only come home sporadically, for certain holidays. I wanted so much more out of life than smelling like horse shit and dirt. I went to college in LA, and pretty much never came home, moving there full time after graduation. I have a great job doing social media metrics and analysis. I work the job remotely, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do it and help out on the ranch at the same time. I’ll have to talk to my supervisor. I know I’ll have to move back here for good. Harry’s right, he needs me to take Tim’s share.

I suppose it won’t be all bad, being around Harry all the time. I’ve missed him. The way he held me today and just let me cry into him was everything I didn’t know I needed. I’m sure he still just sees me as Tim’s baby sister, but I could have sworn there was something different in his eyes when he looked at me today. It was like he was seeing me clearly for the first time in his life. It sent a wave of confidence running through me.

Five years is a big age difference. I knew that growing up. I knew nothing would ever happen between us, not until we were older, at least. Thirty-one and twenty-six doesn’t seem as huge. We’ve both matured, especially me. I’ve learned to take care of myself. That’s partially why I don’t want to move into my mother’s home. She’ll take everything I’ve done and squash it in a matter of minutes.

I love my mother, and it’s not that I don’t get along with her, but I have reasons as to why I moved away. I needed to breathe.

Every other minute, I get hit with a wave of reality. My brother is gone. He’s never coming back. I haven’t felt this lost or sad since my dad died. I was only nine when that happened. Tim took on so much and never complained, just as Harry said. He was so much more than a big brother to me. He and Harry taught me how to fish, start a fire at a campsite, to swim…Tim was always there for me. But so was Harry. He’ll make coming home much easier. And maybe, just maybe, he’ll start seeing me as more than just Tim’s little sister. We can deal with our grief together and help each other, and I can show him how adult I’ve become. I’m not a little girl anymore. I haven’t been for a very long time.

**

“Rowan, Tim’s share of the ranch goes to you.” John, our family’s attorney says. We’re all in the home office, listening. Harry’s barely looked in my direction. But I’m not holding anything against him. It’s a weird time. “If after a year you want out, Harry, and only Harry,” he looks at Malcom and Glen, “can buy you out.”

Okay, so if I hate it, I only have to stick around for a year. That’s not so bad.

“How does that make any sense?” Glen asks.

“Because the ranch is in a trust, and myself and Tim are the only ones allowed to sell and buy and do things with it, you jackass. Now it’ll be Rowan and I.” Harry huffs. “John, please continue.”

“The boy house is yours, of course. The girl house is still Georgette’s, but it’ll go to you and Rowan when she’s done with it. Tim leaves his personal affects to you, Harry, to do whatever you want to them. Is there a Delia Anderson present?”

“That’s me.” Delia raises her hand. I didn’t think my brother would have left anything for her. He didn’t know she was pregnant. “Tim…mentioned me in his will?”

“He stated that in the event of an untimely pass, he wanted to give you the money he had saved for an…engagement ring.”

“Oh my god.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, clearly trying not to cry. “I can’t believe I fucked up so badly with him.” She buries her face in her hands and sobs. My mother goes to her quickly, rubbing her back.

“Dee, you didn’t know this was going to happen.” Harry says softly. “You can do whatever you want with the money. Can set up a retirement account, or something for the baby.”

“Right.” Delia sniffles. “Thank you.”

“I thought Tim didn’t know you were pregnant.” Malcom says.

“He didn’t.” Delia snaps. “That’s just the kind of guy he was. We were together for four years. We still loved each other. We just needed to take a break.”

“John, is there anything else?” Harry asks.

“That was the last item.”

“Great, meeting adjourned.” Harry claps his hands together. “Everyone can leave now.” He looks at Glen and Malcom as he says this. “Bye, see you at the next holiday gathering. Malcom, we’ll get beers later in the week, yeah?”

“Alright.” Malcom nods with a sigh.

“So,” my mother says once the other Bakers are gone, “Rowan, how quickly do you think you’ll be able to pack and wrap things up at work?”

“I don’t know. At least two weeks.”

“Alright, I’ll fly out when you’re ready and we’ll drive back together.” Ma says. “That shouldn’t take more than a couple of days if we set our minds to it.”

“Okay.” I look at Harry who’s looking anywhere but me. “Harry, should we sit and go over things, like, what you’ll need me to do around here and all that?”

“I can have that ready for you for when you get back.” He says. “I need time to really sit and think about it.” He looks down at his watch. “I have to go. A few of us from the football team are meeting up for drinks to honor Tim. I think coach is gonna retire his jersey.”

“Oh, that would be so nice.” Ma says. “Go on, have a good time with the boys.”

With that, Harry leaves.

“Well, I should get my shit packed and get ready for my flight.” I say.

“So, you’re not leaving any friends or boyfriends behind?” Ma asks.

“I mean, I have friends out there, but I still have friends here. And no, I don’t have a boyfriend. I haven’t had a boyfriend in, like, eight months. I’ve been focusing on myself.”

“That’s good.” Delia chimes in. “Smart. I’ll drive you to the airport. It’ll give us time to catch up.”

“I’d like that.”

**

Two Weeks Later

Three days alone with my mother. It didn’t start off bad. She was happy I rented a U-Haul to hitch to my SUV. I wanted to bring my bed and bedframe home, and it made it easier to pack the U-Haul rather than my car. We stopped for one night and got a motel room. Conversation was surface level, but good. Neither of us wanted to talk about Tim because neither of us wanted to start crying.

We talked about how nice it was that a few of my friends helped me pack all my shit before my mom got there. That led to her asking questions about me not having dated much since my last boyfriend.

“I don’t know, Ma. It was like the more I talked about where I grew up and what I grew up doing, he started to get more condescending. He talked to me like I was simple, like as if I didn’t have an undergraduate degree and a master’s. Any time I asked if he’d come home with me for a holiday, he told me we should go to his family’s. He started mansplaining more and more. I didn’t like it, so I t up with him. He didn’t believe it at first, but I changed my locks, blocked his number, and held firm.”

After telling my mother that story, she told me she was proud of me, and then she started telling me stories about guys she went out with before my dad, and how my dad was a breath of fresh air compared to all those other guys, and how she hopes I’ll find my own breath of fresh air.

As we take the exit off the highway that leads into Hawthorn, she starts fidgeting.

“Honeybee, are you sure you’d rather live in the boy house with Harry? I mean, it’s called ‘The Boy House’, for a reason.”

“It’ll be easier, Ma. Harry and I talked about it. The office is here, we’ll be able to go to the sites together easier. Your house is like half a mile from here.”

“When did you two talk?”

“Last week, he called me and we went over a few things. Why?”

“No reason.” She shrugs. “He just usually keeps me in the loop, that’s all.” I notice her grip the wheel a little tighter. “It’s a little odd to be living with a man you’re not in a relationship with.”

“It’s like having any other kind of roommate.”

“You’ll be sharing that upstairs bathroom.”

“I’m aware.”

“Have you ever shared a bathroom with a man before?”

“Um, yeah, every day when Tim and I were living with you.” I sigh. “Ma, if I really have to go and he’s in there, I’ll go use one of the downstairs bathrooms.”

“What about if he brings a woman home?”

“He’s an adult, he can do whatever he wants.”

“Fine.” She concedes. “If at any time it becomes too much, though, you come home to me and Delia.”

“I will.”

Ma pulls into Black Beauty Ranch, then down the road to the boy house. A ton of people are waiting outside, and there’s a big sign draped along the porch that says, ‘WELCOME HOME, HONEYBEE!’ Times like these, I cherish being from a small town.

“Oh, wow.” I beam as I get out of the car. Sally, Harry and Tim’s executive assistant, is the first to hug me. She’s in her mid-fifties and incredibly sweet.

“Harry and I organized the whole thing.” She tells me. “The ranch hands are here to help. Some of the ladies made food for everyone, plenty to go around. Are all your boxes labeled by room?”

“Of course they are.” I smile.

“Good.” She smiles back at me and kisses my cheek. She looks at Eduardo, the foreman of the ranch hands, and says, “alright, send in the troops!”

Eduardo gives me a big hug after telling the ranch hands to start with the U-Haul.

“We missed you, kid.” He tells me.

“I missed you all too. I’m happy to be home and on the ranch.” A woman comes over to me and gives me a hug.

“Ro, I didn’t get a chance to see you at the funeral, I’m Sarah.”

“Oh! You’re the head of the events team.”

“I am.” She beams. “I was a year below your brother in school. I’m so excited that we’ll be able to work together in person, make all the social media stuff you do even better.”

“Yeah, Harry said I’ll probably be taking over the weekly meeting you have with him. I’m great at project managing. I’m looking forward to working with you too.”

“He said what?” Her smiles falls slightly.

“Well, it’s just that he meets weekly with Sally, and then with Eduardo. It would free up some time for him if I take over your weekly meeting, and I don’t mind. You have others on your team, right? Daryl and Janey, right?”

“Right.” She swallows.

“Sally, where’s Morgan?”

“I sent her off with Harry so I could be here.” Morgan is the admin below Sally. She takes care of more of the day-to-day things like general emails and phone calls. “They had to pick up a few heifers earlier today. They should be back in a bit. He really wanted to be here when you got here, but they couldn’t reschedule the sale.”

“Oh, it’s fine, I get it.” I wave her off. I watch as the ranch hands start bringing boxes into the house. I notice Sarah talking with my mother. My mother looks annoyed, but not with Sarah. She looks annoyed with whatever Sarah just told her.

Hmm. That’s…interesting.

After saying hello to a few more people, I start helping to bring my stuff inside. I’m certainly not going to sit around while everyone does everything.

I’m grateful that so many people made and brought food. We’re all hanging out in the kitchen, stuffing our faces. I told most of the people they could leave once all the boxes were in. I’m not going to let anyone unpack for me. That’s my responsibility. So, it’s just me, Sally, Ma, Eduardo, Sarah, and Delia. Thank fucking God for Delia. I always liked her, and even though she started dating Tim by the time I moved to LA, I still knew of her. She’s just a kind human being. I’m glad she’ll be part of our family again.

“Hello!” I hear Morgan from the mudroom. She comes into the kitchen and squeals. We run towards each other and hug. Morgan and I have been friends forever. I’m glad she’s working at the ranch. “Sorry, I probably smell like cow shit.”

“You don’t.” I laugh. “Are the heifers alright?”

“Yeah, they’re great. Harry’s down at the transition barn, he’ll be up in a few minutes.”

The transition barn is where all the new cattle go to get acquainted with the new surroundings. It’s comfortable and peaceful for the cattle.

“You know,” Morgan says after popping a cherry tomato into her mouth, “he was super anxious all day about getting back here. He really wanted to be part of the warm welcome.”

“He’s sweet like that.” Sally says. “He’s been fretting around the house for the past week making sure everything was in suitable condition for you.”

“Oh, I feel bad. He didn’t have to do anything special for me.” I frown.

“You know Harry.” Eduardo says. “Always looking out for honeybee.” He kisses my temple. “Well, I’m gonna head to my house. My darling wife has plans with her friends, so I need to go take over parent duty.”

“Bye, Ed, thanks so much for your help today.” I give him a hug, and he gives me a good squeeze before heading out.  

“I think it’ll be good if we all get going. Rowan needs time to unpack.” Sally says. “Sarah, come on, I’ll drop you off at your car.”

“No, please don’t go yet! Morgan’s staying to help me unpack my room and stuff. You’re all more than welcome to stay.” I tell them.

“I have a better idea, we’ll all go to Georgette’s.” Delia says. “We’ll have some dessert and coffee. Decaf, obviously.” She chuckles and cups her bump.

“Sounds good to me.” Sally says. “Let’s go, ladies.”

Sarah flashes the fakest smile in my direction, then leaves. My mother gives me a hug and goes out with Delia and Sally.

Morgan and I head up to my room.

“It’s not weird for you to be taking over Tim’s room?” She asks me.

“Nah, Harry actually said he preferred it. It’s better than leaving it like a shrine or turning it into an empty room. Besides, the only other bedrooms up here are at the other end of the hall, and this is the only bathroom up here. I love the Jack and Jill style.” I open the door. “It’s kind of cute that they put in a double vanity. I remember when they first showed us the bathroom layout when they were building it, and my mom point blank asked if they were more than just friends.”

“Ha! I know, they lived like two old ladies who have been ‘special friends’ for thirty years.” Morgan smirks. “Do you think he’ll get freaked out with all the girly stuff in the bathroom?” She looks at my box of products and toiletries.

“He’s a modern man, I don’t think a few razors and bottles of various products is going to be an issue.”

“What did LA do to you? You’re like one of those Tik Tok girls who uses like eight products just to wash their face.”

“Stop making fun of me.” I take the box from her and go into the bathroom. “All of this stuff helps. Now, my mini lazy Susan can go in this corner. That’s what I put all my makeup and brushes on. This little shelf organizer is for my mouth products. And this shelf organizer houses my morning and night time skin care routine products.”

“Why do you need sweat bands?”

“They’re not sweat bands.” I laugh and slide them onto my wrists. “They stop the water from running down my arms when I wash my face.”

“Okay, that’s valid.”

“There we go. Clean and organized and not in the way of his stuff. I love how big the counter is. We won’t even bump elbows if we’re in here at the same time.” We head back into my room and start organizing my closet. “I like to keep things color coordinated, and by type of article. So, all tank tops should be together, and so on.”

“You’re like Danny Tanner.”

“A clean and uncluttered room will keep me calm. It’s something I have control over, if that makes sense.”

“It does.” She nods. “I’ll start on this end with your dresses.”

“Thanks.” I smile.

Many hands make light work. One of the last boxes of clothes is what was in my underwear drawer.

“And who exactly were you wearing this sexy thing for?” She flings a thong at me.

“No one.” I laugh. “I wear them with my leggings.”

“That’s a sex thong.”

“It is not.” I pull out a pair of lace panties. “These are sex panties. The cheeky bottoms are the best for sex. They’re not alluring.” I hold them up to my bikini area. “Don’t you just wanna take these off with your teeth.”

“Um…” she covers her mouth, hiding a laugh. She nods to tell me to look behind me.

I turn around, still holding the panties to my crotch. Harry’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh, hi, Harry.” I can feel my cheeks heating up.

“I can see you’ve settled in.” His smirk grows. “Nice panties.”

“Thanks.” I swallow. “I got them on sale at Victoria’s Secret.”

“Good for you.” He looks down at them, then back up at me. “I think they’ll look a lot better in your dresser drawer.”

“Right.” I ball them up and hold them behind my back.

“Do you need the bathroom? I’m desperate to shower.”

“It’s all yours.”

“Morgan, you should get going. You’re probably exhausted.”

“I am exhausted.” She sighs. “I was just waiting until you got in. There’s nothing weirder than being in a new space by yourself. Can’t have my girl feeling lonely.”

“Thanks for all your help.” I tell her and give her a hug.

“Don’t mention it. Night, Har.”

“Night, Morgan.” He watches her leave, then looks at me. “The room alright?”

“Yeah, it feels like my own.”

“Good.” He nods. “And everyone came by and helped? Sally and I organized everything.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I know, she told me. Everyone was a huge help.”

“Did you, uh, like the banner?”

“I loved it.” I make my way closer, and go to hug him, but he stops me.

“Don’t. Uh…I stink. I’m gonna shower.”

I nod and watch him leave. Even though that was a little awkward, I’m glad he’s home.

I decide to change into an oversized T-shirt and bed shorts, then go downstairs. I never got to have dessert earlier, and I need something sweet.

**

Harry

Any other guy would’ve been freaked out by all the feminine touches Rowan’s added to the bathroom, but I don’t mind. It makes it feel like home again. I was getting sick of only seeing my stuff around. I packed all of Tim’s stuff up and put it in the attic.

The only thing I need to be mindful of is I can’t walk around in just a towel anymore, or only in my briefs. I made sure to buy a ton of pajama pants and T-shirts. There’s a lady in the house now, I can’t be all exposed.

My stomach growls, so after I get dressed, I head down to the kitchen. Rowan’s already there, sitting up on the counter, eating something right out of the container.

“What’s that?” I ask, smirking.

“Oreo trifle.” She says, licking her spoon. “Want some?”

“Maybe in a bit. I need real food first.”

“How are the heifers?”

“Snug as a bug in a rug.” I sigh. “One of them is little, very cute. They’re all for milking and breeding. No slaughtering.”

“Yeah, we just save the slaughtering for the men.” She grins, and I grin back as I grab some Mac n cheese out of the fridge. I grab a fork and eat out of the dish. If she can do it, then so can I.

“God, Sally’s husband makes the best pulled pork Mac.”

“It was a real crowd pleaser. I made sure to save you some.”

“Thanks, honeybee.” I ruffle the hair on the top of her head, and she swats my hand away.

“Don’t.” She whines. “Can I ask you about Sarah?”

“What’s up?”

“That’s what I want to know. I told her you said I’d be taking over the one on ones with her, and she got sort of upset. Do you guys have a secret thing or something?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then what’s her problem with me?”

“Sarah and I dated for, like, a second in high school. We stayed friends afterwards. She’s great at being the head of the events team, an excellent colleague. But, selfishly, I want you to take over the weekly meetings because I don’t always feel comfortable meeting alone with her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s a little bit attached to me.”

“From having a high school romance?”

“Well, I was sort of her…first.”

“First what, boyfriend?”

“No, her first.”

“Kiss?”

“No.”

“I’m at a loss.”

“Rowan, I was the first guy she had sex with.”

“Oh! Oh my God, I totally forgot people actually had sex in high school.”

“You didn’t?” I don’t know why I’m so surprised.

“No, I was way too scared of getting pregnant and having to drop out. I didn’t have sex until I was nineteen, and on birth control.”

“And somewhere that Tim couldn’t scare off any boyfriends.”

“That too.” She nods. “How old were you?”

“I don’t know, fifteen?”

“That means Sarah was fourteen!”

“What? No.” I laugh. “I was seventeen when I had sex with her, and she was sixteen.”

“You were having sex with multiple people?”

“Well, yeah. Who was gonna stop me, my granny?” I smirk. I seem to be doing a lot of that with Rowan.

“Good point.” She scoops some more trifle onto her spoon, but before she can bring it to her mouth, I snatch her wrist and take the spoonful into my own. “Hey.” She pouts.

She locks eyes with me, and I take the spoon from her. “This is good. Who made it?”

“No idea.”

I shrug and go in for more, but instead of eating it, I hold up the spoon to her mouth, and she takes the dessert into her mouth. She takes the spoon from me, and I lean both of my hands on the counter on either side of her hips. She feeds me another scoop. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to her before. I can see every little freckle that’s speckled over her nose and cheeks. I stick my finger in the trifle and smear it onto the tip of her nose before standing up straight.

“What’d you do that for?” She laughs.

“I don’t know, felt like it.”

“Ohhhh, okay.” She takes the spoon, that’s full of trifle, and presses it onto my nose so it stays there.

I take a deep breath and remove the spoon. I pick up the container and reach for her head. She squeals and hops down from the counter.

“What’s the matter? I just wanna talk.” I say.

“No, you want to shove my face into that.”

“No, really, I just wanna talk.” She races to the fridge and pulls out a pie. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“I don’t know.” She walks towards me. “You tell me.”

“Alright, Baker, drop the pie, and no one has to get hurt.”

“Drop that trifle first, Styles.”

“We’ll put them both down on three. One, two, thr-“

“Harry, what’s that?!”

“What?!” I look behind myself and don’t see anything. I turn back to her and then…chocolate cream pie is being thrusted into my face. “Rowan.” I say lowly, wiping pie out of my eyes. “I literally just showered.”

“Guess you’ll have to spend extra time on your skin care routine.” She snatches the trifle from me and puts it back in the fridge.

“You know what? You’re right. I’m so glad you’re here.” I open my arms. “Come give me a hug.”

“No way.” She laughs.

“Come on.” I start walking towards her.

“Harry!” She squeals and I snatch her just in time, and I rub my cheeks all over hers. “Stop, stop!” She laughs, and that’s when I start tickling her sides. “I tap out!” I let her go and wipe my face with my shirt. “Gross.”

“Welp, you’re in the boy house now, darlin’.” I make sure to add my best country accent, and she pushes my shoulder. “Get used to it.”

“Ugh, come on.” She takes my hand and pulls me out of the kitchen.

“Where are we going?”

“To the bathroom.” She tugs me upstairs and into our newly shared bathroom. “Sit.” She pushes me to sit on the lidded toilet. Then, she pushes some sort of head band onto me to pull my hair back. “I’m doing myself first. You can sit there and wait.” She puts an identical headband on, along with two sweatbands on her wrists.

“Sweatbands?”

“Oh my God, Morgan said the same thing. They’re not sweatbands, they help make it so water doesn’t run down my arms.” She flips the hot water on and dabs at her face with a washcloth.

“How many products do you use?”

“Well, first, I fully wash my face.” She does so, and I watch her. “Then, I pat dry. Once the skin is dry, I use a cotton pad and rub cleanser onto my skin, followed by toner.”

“And what do those do?”

“Cleanse the skin-“

“Didn’t you just do that?”

“No, I exfoliated. You exfoliate and then you cleanse. The toner helps with pigmentation and scarring.” She dabs it onto her skin. “Lastly, a light, oil free, nighttime moisturizer.” She fans her face afterwards. She sits up on the counter, then gestures for me to come to her. “Okay.” She dips a new washcloth into the hot water in the sink, then presses it to my face, over and over, getting it wet. Then, she pumps her exfoliant into her hands, rubs them together, and starts working it into my face. “Close your eyes.”

“Sorry.” I close them and try to relax. It feels kind of good to have her massaging my face.

“I’m draining your lymph nodes.” She explains. “Feels good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You should really get a professional facial done sometime. They’re life changing.”

“Hey, honeybee?” She hums her response. “You’re not in LA anymore.”

“I’m well aware.” She dips the washcloth into the water and starts rinsing my face. “There are spas in Hawthorn.”

“I’d have to go out of town.”

“That can be arranged.” She pats my face dry with a cloth, then starts putting the cleanser on with a cotton pad, followed by the toner. “Some time you should let me put one of those blackhead strips over your nose after a shower.”

“Is it that bad?”

“No, but it wouldn’t hurt to do it occasionally. With all the sunscreen you wear, and all the dirt from the ranch, your pores get clogged like crazy.” She rubs the moisturizer into her hands, then spreads it over my face. “There, all clean.”

“Wow.” I look at myself in the mirror. “M’all glowy.”

“Yup.”

“Are you gonna do this for me every night?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yeah, kinda.” I can’t help but laugh.

“Then you can pitch in for the products. I’m happy to help you with skincare. Just wait until the morning routine.”

“I’ll be counting down the minutes.” I take the headband off. “Is it okay to brush my teeth now, or will that throw everything off?”

“Don’t sass me.” She hops down and grabs her toothbrush. “Brush away.”

We take care of the rest in a comfortable silence, lingering after we’re done.

“Well, I guess…this is goodnight.”

“Did you finish unpacking your room? Do you need help with anything else?”

“Just putting away clothes. All my furniture is built and in place. You’re probably exhausted.”

“I’ve caught a second wind. I’ll come hang out while you finish. You’ll feel better if it’s all done tonight.” I follow her into her bedroom. “Any other lingerie you wanna show me?” I ask as I lay back on her bed, crossing my arms behind my head.

“Very funny.” She rolls her eyes with a smile. “I don’t have a ton of frilly things.” She bends over and picks up a ton of socks to put in her top drawer. I decide to sit up and see what other boxes she has. There’s one that’s labeled, ‘bedside table’, so I open it. I want to be helpful. I notice her double take as I rip the tape open. “Harry, wait!”

“What?” I look down and I feel my cheeks flush.

“Don’t you know that a woman’s bedside table is filled with her…goodies?!”

“Jesus, look at this thing.” I pull out a rather large, purple, silicon dildo. The internal end has ridges on it, and the external attachment is diamond shaped. I’ve never seen one like this before. “This is huge, it actually fits in you?”

“Don’t touch it!” She snatches it, and the box, from me, putting it back in. “Weirdo.”

“We’re adults.” I lean back on my hands. “It’s a bonding experience for us as roommates. Now answer my question.”

“Of course it fits in me. It’s my favorite one. It’s called a g-thumper. The inside thumps and vibrates against my…my spot.”

“Why is the external part diamond shaped? I’ve only ever seen rabbit ears, or those ones that are for suction.”

“It…Harry, this is embarrassing.”

“Just answer the question.”

“It kind of slips between and under the hood, so everything gets stimulated. It vibrates.”

“Ohhhhh.” I nod. “Cool. What else do you have in there?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“You shoved a pie in my face. Show me your goodies.”

“Why? So if you hear me you’ll have a better picture for your imagination?”

“Don’t be gross. I’m not a voyeur.”

“You’re only a voyeur if you’re watching.”

“Whatever, you know what I mean. Come on, teach me what women actually like to use. You just did the same thing with the skincare. You have to unpack the box regardless.”

“Fine.” She kneels on the floor and opens her bedside table drawer. “I have organizers for them and their chargers. I already put those in. Okay, so you’ve met big purple. This one is just for internal use, it thrusts on its own.” She holds up a pink silicon dildo. “And this one is just for external use, but I can never get it to work right, and takes too much effort to use, but it’s nice to use with a partner.”

“Why with a partner?”

“So the guy can focus on the fucking.” She closes the top drawer, then opens the bottom one. “Here’s my toy cleaner. And my different lubes. There, are you happy now?”

“Yup, very.” I lay back down with my arms crossed behind my head. “Continue on with your clothes.”

“Gee, thanks.” She shakes her head. “What toys do you use?”

“I don’t use any on myself.”

“Really?”

“Well, not when I’m alone.”

“Now, why is it okay for you to use one with a partner, but not me?”

“It’s not that it’s not okay, I just don’t think a lady should have to worry about getting herself off. That’s the man’s job. He should be in charge of the toy. Or at least telling you where to use it.”

“Harry?” She sits on the end of the bed.

“Hm?”

“You know what’s nice about not being related to you?”

“No, tell me.”

“I could never have a conversation like this with Tim. It would be weird. I…I was really hoping for us to grow closer with me moving here, really be friends, you know? Even though I’m still five years younger than you, that age difference doesn’t feel so big anymore.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Do you think…I mean, I can’t talk to my mom about Tim, she’ll get sad in a way I can’t even comprehend, but do you think if it’s a particularly hard day that I could come to you, and we could talk about Tim?”

“I’d like that.” I sit up and give her shoulder a squeeze. “I don’t like talking to your mom about him either. It would be nice to have someone to talk to.”

“I’m really glad you’re letting me live here with you.”

“I never would have said no. It’s been so quiet these last two weeks, I’m really glad you’re here.”

She throws her arms around me, and I wrap mine around her. I feel my neck getting wet, she’s crying.

“Sorry.” She lets go of me and wipes her tears.

“Don’t be.” I cup her cheeks and rub her tears away with my thumbs. “It’s okay to cry.”

“Harry…could I ask you to do me a massive favor? It’s going to seem really childish, and you can feel free to say no, but…would you lay with me until I fall asleep? I always have trouble sleeping in a new space for the first time.”

“Yeah, I can lay with you.”

“Thank you.” She leans in and I turn my face, her lips pecking my cheek.

“Go on, get under the blankets.”

She nods and crawls to the other side of the bed. I’m not planning to sleep in here the whole night, so I don’t bother getting under the blankets with her. I turn the light off, and keep my arms crossed behind my head. Rowan cuddles up next to me and rests her head on my chest. I let one of my arms fall around her.

“Goodnight, Harry.”

“Goodnight, Rowan.”

**

[mischiefbuckley]

one direction was such a part of our childhood and teenage years growing up and the band and all the members in the band were very much more than just a band to us and to anyone especially going through a rough time. we didn’t have the best childhoods and so we found comfort in a band and it’s members and we grew up with them as the same way they grew up. those core one direction memories when they were still a band will always be there and yeah it is a lot to now think about how that band growing up and that band that made you smile, that band that provided you with such a happiness that you couldn't even begin to explain is now four members like it is an odd feeling to now just think about and try to contextualize with everything, so if you need a moment take it. grief is an odd feeling and everyone will deal with it in their own way

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Daughter of the House of Dreams: A Fragment

Author's Note: This is the opening to a long-abandoned "Sleeping Beauty" retelling that I no longer plan to write, but I still like it as a piece of prose, and it sparked my enduring interest in second-person narration, so it feels relevant, and why should long-dead authors be the only ones who get to have their unfinished fragments published?

If you ever travel to Monetta City, be sure to visit Faraway Lane. Walk past the glittering new shops, and the shoppers in their bright silk dresses and top hats, and you'll find a cozy stone shop at the end of the street. This shop isn't grand and mighty like the other shops. It won't sniff and turn you away if your clothes aren't the latest fashion. It's a grandmotherly old shop that shakes its head at the prancing and preening of the younger shops, and invites you in instead. It holds no wares in its windows; it hardly has windows at all. But it has a warm and wide wooden door, with a shingle hanging above—Alessia Day, maker of dreams.

Don't ponder the sign's message too long—it means exactly what it says. Just slip inside, shut the door behind you, and look. Don't breathe too deeply, unless you want a week of crazy dreams, but allow yourself one gasp of astonishment. You won't be able to stop yourself. No living person has failed to feel awe toward the rows and rows of shelves, longer than streets and taller than palaces, filled to bursting with glass bottles in such bright colors that the dresses in the other shops' windows would weep in envy. Some bottles are the size of thumbnails. Most fit comfortably in the palm. Some are as large as breadboxes or steamer trunks or carriage horses, but the shelves manage to fit them all. And each bottle is filled to the brim with dreams.

If you don't understand, ask Alessia Day. You'll find her at a counter half a mile from the door, polishing bottles and humming a song you've heard but can't remember. She's an old woman now, and proud of it, but squint your eyes and start to daydream, and you'll see her as I remember her—a willow-wand girl with shining brown hair and eyes that sparkle with half-formed jokes.

Tell this girl how pretty she is (she'll laugh and call you crazy) and ask about her dreams. She'll tell you of her stock and sell you any dream you ask for—daydreams and pipe dreams, dreams of love, dreams of adventure, dreams of loved ones lost and loved ones found and people you've never met but wish you had. She'll show you dreams of lush and perfect islands, dreams where fishes fly through the air, and dreams where people swim the seas with fishes' tails. She'll pull down dreams that last a second but linger a lifetime, dreams that fill a month of stormy nights, dreams that fade on waking and dreams that drown out memories. If you let her, she'll talk of dreams until you drift off, and she'll bottle up your dream while you doze.

But if you're smart (I know you are) you'll step to the counter with a clear glass bottle, empty of everything but air, and ask for her story instead. She'd distill it in a dream for you, and be glad to do it—I once saw her whip it up in half a minute, and I'll bet she's even faster now. Buy the dream, but don't drink it right away. You won't be ready for it. Linger in the shop a while. Hear the story first from Alessia Day's lips, in that voice of hers that's sweeter than singing.

You won't believe half of it, but when you stagger from the shop and wander the empty, starlit streets, you'll ponder over passages until you stumble into bed at sunrise. And when you wake, the world will be different—you'll see tiny footprints on the windowsills, know things about the shadows on the walls, tip your hat to creatures in the corner of your eye, and realize there is another color no one else can see. You'll laugh and call it your imagination, but every second Tuesday, you'll start to wonder if the old woman was right, if the things she told you were true.

If you drink the dream she made, you'll know. I'll understand if you don't—some things are easier not to know. But if you do, and dream through her story, come to my house and ring the bell. My man will let you in—he'll know you by the wonder on your face. He'll bring you to my study, set you in my oldest, softest chair, and get us both settled with a steaming pot of tea. Then, once you've finished babbling, I'll close my eyes and tell you my part in the tale.

[houseofwolvess]

i am once again overwhelmed by love for humans as a whole

[darkdragon768]

I feel like crying.

[peaches-and-honey-and-the-moon]

Just remembered I was briefly kidnapped by my biological dad when I was a small child during a visit to the Fair

[starryjake]

thinking about toxic situationship!heeseung :(

you’re by far his favorite out of all the girls he fucks but he’s too cocky to let you know that. in the back of your mind, though, you know. you can’t imagine that he takes his other girls out for late night ramen or lets them sit on his lap and watch him play video games.

you can’t imagine he’s as gentle and sweet during aftercare with anyone else. in fact, you really hope he isn’t. you hope he kicks out all the other girls he sleeps with as soon as he’s done with them. you hope that he doesn’t let them spend the night like he does with you, even going as far as to make you breakfast or take you out the next day.

every time he’s with another girl, he can’t stop thinking about fucking annoying they are and can’t help himself from comparing them to you. he knows you would be so much better: better at sucking his dick, better at riding him, just your pussy in general was better.

he’d text you when he was hanging out with other girls, not even waiting for them to leave the room but doing it right next to them. he didn’t care if they could see, even when he was texting you about how bad they were and how he wished he were with you instead.

heeseung: this blows

y/n: whys that?

heeseung: bc she isn’t you baby

y/n: you could always leave and come over :)

heeseung: aww my girl wants me to ditch this chick and come fuck her instead? is that what you want, little princess?

y/n: fuck hee…please :(

he could not say no to you. 10 minutes later and he’s ditched the random girl he was with and was instead pounding you into your mattress, grunting loudly as you clenched around him.

“fuck yeah, baby,” he moaned, hips drilling into you. “you’re such a good girl. so much fucking better than anyone else.”

and you took it so well, eating up every last word.

he also loved that you didn’t talk to any other guys. you just wanted him and only him so, so badly, and maybe if he did relationships, he would choose you to be his girlfriend. but, he didn’t date and he made sure you were aware of that from the start your situationship. but the point was, he loved that you were still loyal to him, not even wanting to talk to another guy because they just weren’t heeseung. no one did it like him.

no one ate you out until you were squirting everywhere and shaking like he did. no one fucked you until your eyes were rolling into the back of your head and drooling onto his sheets like he did. no one made you feel like passing out from intense pleasure like heeseung.

you liked him. you were probably in love with him. you hated knowing he saw other girls and he loved knowing it made you upset. he loved knowing that you liked him enough to get so jealous of other girls.

again, he would never tell you that he couldn’t give less of a shit about the other girls. in fact, he would purposely use them just to make you jealous, fucking them for the sole reason of knowing you would hate it. your jealousy was what got him off because it showed that you cared about him, that you wanted him all to yourself.

he thought about you every time he thrusted his cock inside another girl’s pussy. he thought about how much tighter you were than them. how much warmer, wetter, and more delicious you were.

heeseung liked you a lot too. he was also probably in love with you and he realized that when he was finishing on the tits of someone else and moaned out your name instead of theirs.

-

like sorry i just needed to get this off my chest bc heeseung is FUCKING WITH ME TODAY!!

anyway how are y’all? :3

[tardis--dreams]

I hate seeing animals or thinking about them. I get all emotional and sad thinking about potential ways they could get hurt or die :(

[rottenaero]

They were gonna put Eddie down like a damn dog.

The group had insisted that Steve visit the hospital today, one year and two months after the incident. It was a random day, and he thought, ‘ why the hell not?’

Family Video had been closed for months, doing ‘ repairs’, so he really didn’t have much else to do.

He thought it was weird, the way the group was as far away from the bed as possible, and how when he entered the room, Hopper almost blocked the exit.

He doesn’t question it though, sidling up to the open chair beside Eddie, who was still asleep after all this time, and punching his shoulder lightly.

“ Hey, Hero.”

He’d taken to calling it sleeping instead of what it was, a coma. Sleeping sounded more peaceful, because with sleeping came dreams and relaxation.

Eddie doesn’t respond, doesn’t react. Steve didn’t expect him to.

He turns his head to Dustin, the one who’d called him in the first place. “ So, why’re we gathered here today? Any updates?” He asks, addressing the whole room.

The boy swallows, and something tells him something’s wrong. Really wrong.

“ Yeah, actually. Uhm, since it’s been so long, we were thinking-“ He cuts himself off, crosses his arms and starts tapping his foot. Thinking, probably.

Hopper glances to him, and sighs, deciding to lead. “ We’re gonna have to let Munson go.” He states.

Steve takes a sharp breath.

“ What?”

‘ Let him go’ like this is a job. Like this isn’t him losing his life. He wonders when they decided to do this, in the hospital room for the ten minutes they were waiting.

Eddie doesn’t give any indication he hears what’s being said, the beeps from the heart monitor still steady and even as ever. A constant metronome of the exact same sound on the exact say beat, all the time, always.

Except maybe not always.

Dustin takes over again, arms placating. “ It’s been a really long time, Steve. We’ve come to terms that he probably won’t wake up, and it’s doesn’t have to be sad-“

“ You’re killing him.” He hisses, “ You’re killing him and it’s not meant to be sad?”

Nancy steps forward, seeing it as her time to speak. “ Steve. You barely knew the guy, and you spend all your time here, it’s not good for you.”

“ There’s been no good signs, no nothing, not even when El looks into his brain.” Dustin nods at the girl across the room, who’s fiddling with her fingers.

Steve furrows his brow, “ Oh, so I guess you’re gonna pull the plug on Max too?”

Lucas’s eyes widen, mouth dropping open, and Nancy glares. “ That is not fair, Steve.”

“ This whole situations pretty fucking unfair, so I guess you’re gonna have to explain to me how this is different from Max.” He stands, stance wide as he points to the man in the hospital bed.

“ Max is making progress.” Lucas says weakly, and El sets a hand on his shoulder. The boy deflates.

He turns toward Hopper and Joyce, the latter still not having spoken. The Byers family had moved back to Indiana for God knows what reason, and Steve knows that if he had the money, that he could’ve moved somewhere else long ago.

“ Does Wayne know you’re killing his kid?” He asks.

He’d met the man while visiting, and they’d usually sit in silence and watch baseball or whatever was on. He never questioned why Steve was there, or why he was holding a limp body’s hand and taking off it’s rings and putting them back on.

When they did speak, it was stories he had from Eddie’s childhood, about how he buzzed his head because a spider crawled on him and he was convinced it was hidden in his hair, making babies.

Hopper pinched his nose, like he was being a pest. “ Stop using words like killing, and yes. He said he didn’t want Eddie to have to suffer, and his bills are getting expensive.”

And he blinks, realization dawning.

This hadn’t just been decided, had it? This wasn’t a ten minute decision while Steve was getting ready to come here.

He speaks, his voice low and keeping even through each word, “ You guys had a meeting.” The ‘ without me’ goes unsaid, but still echoes throughout the room like if would’ve if he shouted it.

They’d decided this whole thing beforehand, somehow knowing that Steve would hang on. And he would, will. He can’t let him die, he can’t lose.

Will nods, and next to him Mike and Dustin look ashamed. He would’ve thought they’d hold out more.

He racks his brain for any reason they should keep alive, can’t find one. Somehow, even without one for them, he has a million for himself.

“ If the bills are the reason, I’ll pay the damn bills. He’s fucking alive.” He tries.

“ You don’t have a job, Family Video is closed. Just let it be, Steve. Please.” Robin had been eerily quiet during this entire conversation, and it brings him chills him when she speaks.

His best friend had been in on it.

He crosses his arms, “ I’ll get a job. Listen, I’ve been having dreams,-“ He lies. He lies because there’s nothing true to prove Eddie is getting better. “-dreams that he’s alive in like a dark space, I don’t know- his mind maybe? I just- I really think he’s in there.”

The hope Dustin gets on his face hurts, but he doesn’t care. The guy will wake up and it won’t matter that the ‘ dreams’ never existed.

Maybe it’s because he’s an optimist, and that’s why he’s trying so hard, as pessimistic as he can be sometimes.

“ Why didn’t you tell us?” Dustin asks and Steve licks his lips.

Why didn’t he tell them? “ Despite all this crazy shit, me having dreams that he’s alive still sounds crazy.” He doesn’t look at the boy as he says this, eyes roaming over Eddie’s face.

He looks serene, the bat bite on his face as healed as it can get. The doctors had mentioned swelling on his back shoulder blades, but Steve thinks his would be swollen too if he sat on them for a year.

‘ A year and two months.’ He corrects himself.

He stares at the hair that, occasionally when it got matted, Steve would go through and brush it, not wanting him to wake up to being bald because a doctor seemed it necessary.

Wayne mentioned how much he hated the shaved head, and he wouldn’t put him through that again.

As he looks at him, he thinks ‘ I’m doing this for you, so you better wake up, asshole.’

Dustin’s eyes are wide, staring at the members of Hellfire. Steve could only describe the look as ecstatic.

“ Holy shit, I mean, holy shit!” He laughs, and Mike breaks into his own grin.

Jonathan chimes in, disbelief sketched into the lines all over his face. “ Sorry, but doesn’t that seem too convenient? I’m not saying you’re lying Steve, just… If El didn’t find anything, that’s pretty much it.”

His lips form into a line, determined. “ I told you, I’ll be paying for whatever. It’s no skin off your back, or money out of Wayne’s pockets.”

Joyce nudges Hopper when he goes to speak, and nods at Steve. “ If you wanna try, sweetheart, you can. But I don’t want you visiting too much, it’s doing you more harm than good.” She wraps him in a hug, before leading the ex-chief of police out of the room.

Slowly, everyone vacates, until it’s just Steve, Eddie, and El.

She doesn’t make a move toward the door, eyes locked onto his face.

“ You’re lying.” She whispers like a secret.

He nods.

She looks toward Eddie, nervous, and she messes with the hem of her shirt when she starts to speak again. “ I lied too.”

She doesn’t elaborate, walking out of the room without anymore information, and Steve blinks.

The hospital has to call Wayne to confirm the transfer, that's how he learns of the circumstances. He doesn't say much of anything, aside from a promise of a visit on Tuesday before he hangs up.

That night, that same fucking night, he gets a call.

It's the front desk lady, voice distressed rushing through an explanation.

" Eddies gone...Only blood in his bed...We don't know where he is."

Steve stares at the wall, the rest of the words falling upon deaf ears.

Someone had probably found out where he was being held, murdered him a year later for his crimes, and stashed the body away.

He sets the phone back in its holster without saying anything to the other line. Not even a goodbye, or a thanks.

He thinks, it only for a second, that he should've let them just pull the plug, it would've been far less painful.

A creaking brings him out of it, and his eyes dart to his door.

It's dark, too dark, and Steve's aware the Upside Down fucked him up in incomprehensible ways, and now every shadow looks like something,

But there was definitely someone in his house.

He keeps slumped on his bed, the same position as when he'd answered the call. He doesn't flinch when the door pushes open enough for a body to slip in.

There's the sound of something dragging along the carpet as they come closer, probably a shotgun, or maybe they're gonna beat him with his own nail-bat.

He doesn't care to decipher the shape, instead shutting his eyes.

A hand grabs his, sets it on dry skin. His thumb touches a rough patch, a scar like feeling.

One his hands had roamed over while patching up his stomach, refusing to get looked at. That concave patch of scratchy skin that they tell you eventually will just be soft, scarred, but normal.

The skin stretches, and he feels a cheek.

Somehow, he thinks if he keeps his eyes shut, he doesn't have to face the thing in front of him, that it somehow isn't real.

A scratchy, disused, and croaky voice sounds out.

" ' Hey, Hero.' "

[yrqrnc]

biker!haechan as your boyfriend who you’re mad at (but are you, really?)

★: fluff fluff fluff fluff & a very sexy biker!lee haechan

m.list

( 𝟔 : 𝟓𝟎 𝐩𝐦 )

“i know you’re mad at me angel, but please. hold onto me, or you’re gonna fall off.” your boyfriend pleads as he glances at you for a quick second through the rear-view mirror of his bike.

“no.”

your answer is simple and sweet bitter. a classic sign for him to know how upset you actually are at him, no matter how silly or random the reason may be.

and see, the thing is, in a room full of stubborn people, you would be superior. that is one thing both you and haechan have known for a long time.

so it didn’t matter how sweetly he talked to you right now, if you’re upset, you are upset.

“babe.”

you can hear the frustration in his voice, and that pisses you even more because, how can he be frustrated?

you are.

you were furious.

he was the one who had been all careless about driving on your way to the café by speeding and doing those careless stunts with his damned bike to apparently “show off his amazing skills”, and on top of that, he was also the one who then proceeded to smile a little too unnecessarily sweetly and be a little too unnecessarily friendly to the new pretty friend of chenle, whom you guys had met on your group hangout today.

of course, those were reasons to be mad.

right?

because he was quite shameless about it too. complimenting her right in front of your face and thinking you didn’t catch him side-eyeing you every 2 seconds to see your reaction everytime he interacted with her?

you found him utterly annoying.

most of the time, it was affectionately, but today, your patience had been running short and he had pushed your buttons too far.

your boyfriend was aware of that, and he thought it quite cute, actually.

however, riding the bike as his pillion rider while being on that current speed of the bike could be quite dangerous, and he only wanted to assure your safety in that moment.

“just focus on driving, haechan. i won’t fall off”

“baby, you will.”

“oh my god,” you groan out in annoyance. he really wouldn’t stop.

“i said i won’t. you know what? look—”

his consistent “hold on to me”s eventually get on your nerves in your already sour mood, and you decide it would be best to just prove it to him;

show him that nothing will happen at all—for once—so that he can shut his pretty mouth up and get you both home quietly and hopefully, try to then make it up to you there.

and to do just that, you start trying to completely detach your body from his.

you just saw absolutely no need to hold onto him like he was pushing you to do.

you let your hands fly in the air as you shift back on your seat, away from him, to show him that he’s overreacting and you’re really not going to—

it takes about half and a quarter second for the furious wind to hit you harshly, rolling in along with the fast velocity of the bike, and you’re almost sent flying back off the vehicle.

almost.

in that panicked state of mind, you latch onto haechan’s back instantly, grabbing onto him like your life depended on it.

and it did, actually, for a second there.

your mind becomes so frenzied for a moment; you almost missed how, the moment you shifted away from him, he slowed down and one of his hands immediately flew back to reach you, in an attempt to hold you and pull you back to keep you safe and steady.

then, there’s a moment of silence.

there’s a painfully long moment of silence; only the rumbles of the engine of the bike to be heard.

you try to process what had just happened and how you just quite literally just embarrassed yourself with all the confidence you had about around 10 seconds ago, while he takes his time to calm himself down and steady himself and the bike after knowing you’re still there behind him.

the loud quietness is humiliating until he finally breaks it.

“...are you okay?” his voice comes out a little shaky as if, after the initial panic, he’s now trying to bite back a laugh, and you know he’s looking at you through the bike’s mirror again, with that stupid smirk etched onto his face.

“yes.”

this time, too, somehow, your reply is short and bitter sweet, and biker!haechan finds you absolutely adorable as you very slowly sneak your hands up his chest from the back in a tight hold, sticking closer to him, while you try your absolute best to not face him.

only for your own safety purposes, of course.

because— fine, alright. maybe he was not all that wrong when he’d instructed you. you’d tried to prove him wrong, and nature had just done you the other way around.

and frustratingly, yet once again, he thinks you don’t hear him when he stifles a laugh right in front of you.

“shut up. don’t.”

you mumble out, in poor attempt to keep up with the anger instead of the embarrassment that was swallowing you up right now.

but you’re really just pouting in the backseat and your boyfriend knows that.

you don’t know whether you want to jump off this damned bike willingly yourself now, or if you want to hide your face in his back and never show yourself again.

“mm. didn’t, angel.”

and you hate how you can hear that cocky smile on his face without having to look at him as he speaks.

dumb, dumb, and stupidly hot lee donghyuck.

you loathe him, and both of you know how true that stands.

“are you hungry? we can grab some takeout from that place you liked last time.” his voice is sweet as it always is, as he suggests.

but your mind is still a fuzzy swirl of embarrassment and irritation at him from earlier, and it ends up speaking something completely against your actual wants.

“no i’m fine.”

“baby,” he smiles softly as he glances at you once more, “is that your anger talking or you?”

“…”

“you don’t want that beef soup ramen from that place?”

“no, i don’t.”

and he just knows from your tone that you’re sulking behind him as you say this, your mind screaming something else completely.

( ★ )

“you want something to drink too?”

haechan asks exactly 17 minutes later as you both stand to order your ramen and chicken wings.

what had you been mad at him about, again?

[hawkinsbnbg]

Today, Mike had woken up on the wrong side of his bed so he was especially vicious as he ranted about anything he found irritating about Steve.

He hadn't even reached the midpoint when Dustin decided to rip him a new one. Which, yeah, was fair because he didn't usually do Steve that dirty. But his bad mood had taken over and he found himself arguing with Dustin.

"It's not like you don't gripe about him every day," Mike retorted heatedly. "In fact, you are the one making fun of him the most out of everybody here," he gestured widely at the others (Lucas cringed, Will looked guilty, Max and Erica high-fived each other, El nodded calmly, Eddie just gave him a little wave).

"That's because I'm his brother," Dustin said matter-of-factly while adopting Steve's signature mom pose. "But who are you? You're just his ex's brother. Without Nancy, you're just a random kid to him."

(Eddie, Max, and Erica looked at each other with the same smirk. "Oh, that burns."

Lucas just sighed helplessly as Will and El watched on in amusement.)

Mike's nostril flared indignantly. He would never ever admit this, but while he thought Steve was lame and an idiot sometimes, he respected Steve plenty. Not enough to admire, but enough to fight Dustin for him.

"So what? I know him longer than you," Mike fired back. "I have more M&M's and 3 Musketeers from him than you do, I played baseball with him every weekend, and I also watched Star Wars with him."

"You do understand what ex means, right?" Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. "Nancy's his ex-girlfriend, ergo you're his ex-something, ergo you need to stop living in the past. You know why? Because I," Dustin pointed at himself smugly, "am his favorite now. I'm the present and the future. His shotgun, his house, his pool, his snack cupboard will forever be mine, thank you very much."

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Because not even Will was willing to accept that bullshit. Steve never had a favorite, okay? As their babysitter, he wasn't allowed to.

"What the fuck are you fighting for?" Mike glared at Erica who was (impressively) making Dustin wail like Mew on the floor.

"Steve still owes me a lifetime of free ice cream, duh," she looked at him like he was an idiot. "Stop talking shit and come help me."

A wise man once said: "Enemy's enemies are friends."

So it only took Mike a second to give her a hand.

———

"Why didn't you stop them?" Steve asked in exasperation, thinking about the fistfight that would've taken place in the Wheelers' basement had he not interfered on time.

"'Cause the more they eliminate among themselves," Eddie leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "the less I gotta fight to keep you."

"But I'm their babysitter," Steve pushed him away with a finger on the forehead. "And you're supposed to make it easier for me, not harder."

"Sweetheart," Eddie grabbed his wrist and nuzzled his nose into it, "Just say the word and I'll make something harder for you right now."

"You're incorrigible," Steve rolled his eyes, but his pretty smile had betrayed his mood.

"Yeah, all because of you, baby," Eddie pressed his lips on the back of Steve's hand. "O prithee, my princess, give me the remedy."

"What if I don't have any?" Steve raised his brow.

"You do, darlin'," Eddie pulled him close and cradled his face. "My tonic is right here," a kiss on his forehead. "My joys," on his eyelids. "My happiness," on his his nose and then his mouth, "my love."

Later, when they cuddled in bed, sweet and tender after loving each other til midnight, he would tell Eddie there was no need to ask for him in the first place.

Because he had been Eddie's boy since the day the battle vest was draped on him.

It seemed Steve did have a favorite, after all.

Except, it was none of his kids.

Truly a tragedy.

[captain-huggy-bear]

To Fight a Ten Year Old

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: N/A

Summary: In which Quinn is prepared to time travel to whoop some ten year old butt because you tell him a story from your childhood and he takes it personally.

Notes: Alas, I did in fact experience this as a child, but I can laugh about it now :) Also writing soccer instead of football actually hurt me.

Very silly + short idea to be honest but hope it brings a smile to some faces!

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

It's a stupid little back and forth the two of you have going as you get ready for bed, silly little questions like 'tell me about your first broken bone' and 'why is your favourite animal your favourite?'. It's something Quinn and you have been doing since you first started dating. It started as a way to get to know each other better and ended up a habit, a ritual of sorts.

Each year the questions get harder to think of as your lives become more intertwined, most of your stories featuring the other, but it still raises interesting moments from your childhoods and silly little stories that explain a lot about you or him. Things you probably wouldn't find out about each other unless you asked these random questions or a family member brought it up at Thanksgiving or Christmas.

Today is no different. You're going through your night routine, taking off your make up and moisturising your skin, while Quinn brushes his teeth in the adjoining bathroom, door open so you can talk.

"Okay..." He's thinking hard, even as he talks around his toothbrush leaning his head out of the bathroom to watch you as you wipe away your eyeliner, "How about first heartbreak?" His voice is muffled around the toothbrush and almost sounds like he's underwater, despite this he never seems to want to wait until he's done.

"Like first heartbreak? Or first proper heartbreak?" You're running a cloth over the rest of your face as you ask, wiping away concealer and blush, an array of colours smearing the fabric. Your skin being revealed bit by bit.

"What's the difference?" He briefly disappears back into the bathroom to spit out his toothpaste and put his toothbrush away, but you know he's still listening as you explain.

"Well, first heartbreak is that time as a little kid that you thought you were in love and got hurt by it but it wasn't serious. You were probably over it by the next week, and first proper heartbreak is when you're older and it actually is heartbreak and you can't get over it for at least 3 months."

He hums as he comes back to lean against the doorframe, shoulders looking delicious without a shirt on, "First heartbreak, probably less depressing for a Monday night."

You take a moment, reaching for your moisturiser as you think back. There are many moments you could think of where you thought you were in love as a litte kid and had your heart broken as a result, but one stands out the most.

"Okay, um...When I was 10 years old I really liked like this boy in class called Cameron but Cameron really liked Emily, a girl 2 years older than us." You can still remember it now, the way he used to sit with her whenever he had the chance, how she clearly did not want a kid 2 years younger than her hanging around, how lovesick he was...how lovesick you were.

"Okay, so Cameron likes a cougar?" You glare over at him as you rub moisturiser into your skin, disapproving as he grins at you, straight teeth peeking out from behind his lips.

"2 years apart at the age of 10 and 12 does not make someone a cougar, Quinn!"

"I don't know, baby, seems pretty cougar-ish to me." You roll your eyes at him as he strolls closer to you, taking your comb in hand and tilting your head forward gently. He's careful as he starts to detangle your hair, careful not to pull too harshly on your scalp, much kinder than your mother used to be when you were a child. Quinn's always careful not to hurt you, apologetic if a tangle pulls too roughly.

"You're ridiculous. Anyway, where was I?" You reach for the detangler handing it back to him as he works, closing your eyes gently.

"You liked a spotty kid called Cameron." There's a hint of dislike riding his voice, even as his fingers are careful as they pull strands of your hair apart, teasing out knots.

Your eyes flash open and meet his in the vanity mirror, lips pursed at the way he insults a ten year old he's never met, "I liked a tall, cute kid called Cameron who was into soccer."

"Yeah, like I said, spotty." The dislike turns to a jealous sort of mumble, matched only by the sour look on his face that has you huffing out a laugh.

"Are you jealous of a ten year old?"

"He's not ten anymore..."

"Do I need to remind you this is a story of heartbreak?"

"Still, should've been me." His hands slide from your hair, comb having been put back on the side, and down to the base of your neck. Long fingers working at the tension there, you lean back into his fingers even as you call him out for his ridiculousness.

"We didn't even know each other! You're absurd, anyway, so I was certain Cameron was my future husband and I decided to be very brave one Valentine's day and get him a card and a gift." You lean a little to the right as Quinn hits a knot on the left side of your shoulder, you sway back into him.

"I'm proud of little you, that's gutsy." He can almost imagine it, little you bravely handing over a glittery red and pink monstrosity, little bows in your hair and chubby cheeks.

"I know, braver than I am now." You're not sure you'd have been brave enough to do something like that now, it had been Quinn after all who'd made the first move, Quinn who'd set the pace of your relationship at the start, "So I get him some chocolates, those stupid cheap heart shaped ones, and I make a stupid card covered in glitter and all sorts. I take my time and I write a heartfelt confession inside and then decided to give it to him in front of the entire class."

"No..." His voice drops, horror filling it as he looks at you through the mirror, mouth slightly open, eyes wide. You nod at him, confirming his worst fears, he knows how this is about to go down.

"Yeah, rookie move. I do it though, I hand it over and then he proceeds to not even read the card and um, rip it up in front of me and the entire class while telling me that he was going to marry Emily."

His fingers still in their massage. In fact, Quinn completely stills, his entire body rigid as he frowns at you through the mirror, there's a silence, long and heavy before he speaks.

"Where does Cameron live?"

"Quinn." You turn in your seat to look up at him, lips pursed together.

"I'm serious where does he live I'm going to go have some words with him," He crosses his arms and there's a brief moment where you're distracted by the strength and definition in his forearms before you really process that he's considering having words with a guy who broke your heart when you were ten.

"About his choices when he was ten?"

"Yeah! Who does that to someone, not only did he reject you, which is an insane decision by the way, he embarrasses my baby in front of the entire class!" Quinn reaches for your hands as he rants, pulling you to your feet, as his fingers twist and twine with yours. You'd think he's just joking but his tone is completely serious and it makes your heart warm, no matter how silly he's being. He's genuinely personally offended on your behalf about something that happened when you were a child, before you knew each other. It's sweet. Silly and absurd, but sweet.

"You can't fight a guy who broke my heart at the age of ten."

"Sure, I can or I can get Millsy to do it." He cracks a smile at that, even though he's serious about wanting words with this Cameron, he's also aware he's being absurd. He tugs you closer by the hands even as you glare up at him like a disappointed parent.

"You are not setting Miller on my childhood crush!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous! It was over a decade ago!" Even as you protest you're smiling, arms reaching up to rest over his shoulders and around the back of his neck. Fingers twisting the strands of brunet hair that rest there.

"And, he broke your heart and that's not acceptable, baby, i'm sorry, I have to defend your honour." Quinn palms rest on each of your hips, pulling you in as his fingers curl into your pajama bottoms.

"But, it was a good thing."

"How is that a good thing?"

"Because if he hadn't done that, I might have married him and been stuck in a loveless marriage and then never met you or met you but not been able to be with you." You look at him with a little smirk like you've beat him at his own game, like you've outplayed him in a game of chess.

"So you're saying that I actually should be thanking that spotty kid for breaking your heart?"

"Yes."

There's a moment of silence as he draws you ever closer, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, all soft lidded eyes and warmth. Pliant like a docile house cat.

"I'm not thanking him, I will, however, not get Millsy to fight him." It's mumbled so close to your lips that they're brushing his, an almost kiss that speaks volumes about where his mind is now.

"Good, because I'm not breaking you or Miller out of prison."

"You don't love me enough?" He doesn't even have the decency to pretend to be offended or care as his eyes are heavy, focus on your lips, not your eyes and certainly not on the ten year old he was threatening to set Miller on 5 seconds ago.

"Oh, I love you enough, but I do not have that skill set, honey."

"I don't know, think you could probably charm the officers into letting me out, baby." Quinn brushes the tip of his nose purposefully with yours and you know he's seconds from breaking and just kissing you, he has his tells, his little gestures that have consistently given him away.

"You suggesting I seduce the police now?" You pull back just enough to get his attention, to force a pout from him at the distance, his fingers scrambling at your back to pull you back in.

"...Nawwh, only me."

"You're an idiot." He pulls in you in with enough force that your chests bump with a soft smack, rubbing his cheek against yours just because he knows the stratch of his beard will get a giggle from you as you shy away from the sensation.

"I'm your idiot though."

"Mmm, my idiot." You mumble it against his lips as he finally breaks, self control being ditched in favour of the way you sigh against his mouth. He tastes like spearmint toothpaste, minty and sweet as his lips part beneath yours with a hum.

Maybe heartbreak at ten sucked, but you can't help but be thankful for it when you ended up winning the jackpot when you scored Quinn. So much better than spotty ten year old Cameron.

[jeo9n]

INSTAGRAM

you’ve been texting jungkook on instagram non stop ever since he opened his account as a joke. but what you didn’t expect was for him to actually text you back.

౨ৎ

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, future smut

warnings: none

wordcount: 2k

you get woken up by your alarm at exactly 6am. like everyday, you open your eyes and the first thing you do is check your phone. catching up with everything that happened while you were asleep. texting your friends back that live in a different time zone than you.

you’re tired but you get out of bed anyway. you have to get ready for work. even if your body is screaming for you to stay in bed.

the first thing you do is make your bed so it prevents from laying back down. you already took a shower yesterday night, which you thank yourself as it saves you time this morning. so all you have to do is brush your teeth and wash your face.

when you’re done with that you make yourself a coffee and start to get dressed. you keep your outfit simple with some baggy jeans and a black long sleeve top because you’d rather be comfortable than fashionable. you always make sure to never leave the house without spraying perfume everywhere on your body. you forgot to but some on one day as you were running late, only noticing when you were already at work and someone might say it’s stupid but you didn’t feel good that day, you didn’t feel like yourself without your sweet perfume. you love to smell good, you love getting compliments on your scent, you love people smelling you before they even see you.

ever since that you never forgot to put perfume on again, but carrying around a travel size bottle of your favorite perfume in your bag just in case.

you pet your cats goodbye one last time before you leave your apartment. you hate leaving them home alone but thankfully they have each other so they are not really "alone" but it still hurts you.

you’re already on the way to the small coffee shop that you work at , as you remember you haven’t texted your boyfriend (jungkook) a good morning text yet. so you pull your phone at your pocket and text him right away. the chat is filled with hundreds of your messages texting him random stuff about how your day was and occasionally sending him some memes and reels you thought were funny.

y/n: good morning jungkoookkk!!

y/n: i’m on my way to work.

y/n: you’re probably asleep but have a good day.

you smile to yourself as you double text him. your not texting him in hopes to get a text back, cause that would be crazy. i mean, that guys is crazy famous of course he’s not going to text me back. you just think it’s funny, although sometimes you think it’s actually kinda weird and you should probably stop, but you never actually do.

as you open the door to your workplace you’re instantly greeted with the delicious smell of coffee, which reminds you, you still have your empty cup of coffee in your hands which you forgot to throw away. your coworker greets you good morning as she looks up from behind the counter.

"good morning. leslie." you greet back as you throw your coffee away. "ugh i really don’t feel like working today." you tell her, while taking of your jacket. she laughs and agrees with you.

"girl, i literally stayed up all night binge watching true crime documentaries." she tells me. "look at my eye bags! i can’t even cover them up with makeup." she says as she lifts up her hand to show me her dark eye bags. "but i guess it’s my own fault. i knew i should’ve turned the tv off after the first episode." she says in frustration and it makes me laugh. i can totally relate to her. you tell yourself one more episode and suddenly the sun comes up and you finished the whole show, wondering where the time went.

happened to me one too many times.

"yea…" you say, tying your apron at you back. "been there, done that." and she smiles softly in response. "should i make you a coffee? cause you really look like you need one." you tell her as you point to your eye bags, mocking her.

she laughs and kicks you jokingly "yes please! make it extra strong."

"will do." you say in a laugh, already on your way to the coffee machine. it’s definitely gonna be a long day for leslie today.

you put the coffee down carefully, not trying to spill the hot coffee all over the counter. "here you go, extra strong for you, your highness. " you bow to her jokingly while laughing like an idiot.

"you’re so stupid." she laughs with you, bringing the coffee up to her lips, trying to take a sip.

you worked a little longer today as usual since it was busy. but you don’t mind. working extra hours means extra money and you would never complain about that.

you take you shoes off and wash your hands as soon as you get home. after that you change into more comfy close just some sweatpants and hoodie and you already feel way better. you walk to your kitchen to feed your cats, who are acting like you leave them out to starve and never feed them. after your done with that you wash your hands again and make yourself something to eat since you only had breakfast today. you decide for pizza today as it doesn’t take long to be ready. you shove it into the oven and while you wait you brows through your phone. you lean against the counter and watch some tiktok’s to make to the time go by faster.

the pizza is done in under 20 times. thankfully. you cannot wait longer or else your stomach is gonna start eating itself. you sit down on your couch with your pizza on your lap. you try to take a bite but it’s still too hot so start browsing through netflix instead to find something to watch while your eating. when you find something your pizza has cooled down already so you start eating.

after your done, you get up and do the dishes right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. after that you decide to take a bath since you haven’t done that in a while and after that hectic day today you really need it.

the warm water hugs your body as you lay down in your bathtub. you feel your body start to relax enjoying the temperature of the water. your eyes are closed as you hear the notification sound from your phone, but you ignore it. you feel so comfortable right now you don’t want to move. so you stay put, enjoying this bath maybe a little too much.

after like twenty minutes you start to get bored and the water has gone cold, so you decide it’s time to get out. you quickly wash your body and get out. you do you skincare and brush your teeth while your body dries, after that you put some vanilla bodylotion on, quickly change into your pyjamas and head to bed, your cats joining you seconds after. one sleeps on top the pillow next to you while the one sleeps between your legs.

you go to grab your phone from your nightstand, checking it one last time before you go to sleep. your just scrolling trough your notifications not thinking anything by it. you stop at one particular notification and your hearts starts to beat faster. sitting straight in your bed, rubbing your eyes to make sure your seeing correctly. you cannot believe what you’re seeing.

jeon jungkook has fucking texted you back.

not only once. he double texted you back.

is this really happening right now?

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: woww! how long have you been texting me for ? there are like a thousand messages lol

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i hope you had good day at work! i just woke up.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i saw your message and there are so many. i felt bad so i texted back. looked like your were talking to yourself haha.

wait. i cannot believes this. am i dreaming?

your hands shake and you’re not sure what to text back. should i even text back? would he text back again?

i take a deep breath. my head is going crazy right now.

after you collected yourself , you text back.

y/n: lol this is awkward.

y/n: i wasn’t thinking you would actually text back.🫣

y/n: i hope my message weren’t bothering you or anything.

you struggle sending the message back cause your hands won’t stop shaking. but can you blame me? the love of my life just texting me back and my stupid ass ignored it because of that stupid bath i took.

i bite on my nails nervously, my heart is beating so fast it might jump out of my chest at any minute.

i wait for an answer back, which is stupid, i know.

just because he texted me back one time doesn’t mean he’s going to do it again.

you know he won’t. but still, you wait.

you wait for like an hour until you realize he’s actually not responding anymore so you decide to go sleep. or try to go to sleep i should say, since your mind won’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

after a while you eventually fall asleep after what felt like hours.

the next morning you get woken up again by your alarm. this time you grab your phone a little faster than usual. scrolling through your notifications with tired but curious eyes.

you eyes widen as you find his notification again.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: haha no, you don’t bother me. i read through your messages last night.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: you’re funny haha.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: judging by the time i usually get the first message from you, i should get a message soon right?

you read the last text and it says sent an hour ago.

okay wait. he texted again? and he thinks i’m funny?

im definitely dreaming because there is no way that this is fucking happening.

your thumbs moves fast as you reply to him.

y/n: no way!!!

y/n: am i dreaming?? please tell me im not

y/n: is this really jungkook?

y/n: no, it can’t be

y/n: is someone playing with me?

someone definitely must be playing with you. because what do you mean jeon jungkook texted me back not one, but twice?

you actually cannot believe it yourself. this is crazy.

you wait a little bit to see if he’ll respond again. but nothing comes so you start getting ready for work.

how am i going get through work today, when all i can think about is him. you think to yourself.

~~~~

i hope you enjoy this chapter because im definitely excited about this fanficton ahhh

[lamiadrowned]

what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true

*:･ﾟ✧ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

i love her so much :(

it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.

her entire life, she’s never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed she’d end up in one, and she’s so happy she did!

especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.

the first few times you guys go out together, you’re always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. you’re either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.

she has no complaints. it makes her feel… warm. safe. appreciated.

but she doesn’t really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.

one day, you’re sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention she’s working on. you can’t remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but you’re nodding like you understand so that she’ll keep talking.

“alright, what’s the problem? is it something i said?” she asks you suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“don’t play dumb! you haven’t touched me at all today!” she grumbles. “you’re always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? or–”

“jinx.” you cut her off firmly. “stop that. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

she looks stumped. so, you continue. “i don’t know. it’s just… you never do it to *me,* you know? it’s always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didn’t really like it. something tells me that’s not the case.”

your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

she can’t believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.

her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, she’d be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.

in no time, she’s just as cuddly as you!

each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.

i saw somebody else post something about this, but she’d definitely be the type to say something like ‘i wish i could crawl inside you’. she truly can’t get close enough once she learns how good it feels.

and one of many good effects of this is that when she’s having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.

if it happens to be one of many days where she’s hearing voices, seeing things that you can’t see, berating people who aren’t really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. it’s grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.

if it’s one of those days that she’s just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.

when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so you’re careful to preserve that effect– you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.

and as for you, if she finds out you’re having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.

if you’re alone, she’ll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, she’ll listen. if you don’t, she’ll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.

if you’re in public, she’ll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.

unless it’s somebody in particular that’s bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.

given how long she’s gone without any sort of physical affection, it’ll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.

sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over who’s more touchy and who can get the last kiss.

it’s so mushy! she hates it.

(she loves it).