#sell my wedding band

[selldiamond]

Discover essential tips for choosing the right buyer when selling your wedding ring or diamond eternity bands. Learn how to ensure a fair price and smooth transaction.

[sellyourdiamond]

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[ivaluelab1]

Do you keep walking past your jewelry box and wondering, is it finally time to sell your wedding rings? If so, that question is often preceded by, where do I go to sell my wedding rings?

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon, poverty & debt, gun violence, organized crime, death threats, arranged marriage

fem reader

Thinking about owing the mob…

Not you specifically, but your family – debt you weren’t aware of before you’re being cashed in to settle it.

You imagined several terrible things before the arrangement was explained to you. 

One of the sons needs a wife with a clean reputation. 

It’s a simple equation. You’re eligible, and he isn’t picky.

And though it leaves you in mourning for a life yet lived, it still comes with a sense of relief. It’s one of the better deals you could’ve gotten. At least you wouldn’t need to witness or partake in any crimes, nor act as a scapegoat for the likes either.

Besides… though you’ve yet to meet your fiancé, you’ve been explained that he only plans on treating you like a wife on and for the camera – that his tastes otherwise lie in the gentlemen’s lounge. 

All you ever have to do is smile. He isn’t interested in anything else.

That’s what you were told, and yet…

“It’s funny.” Your husband says after the wedding ceremony. 

You’re back at the mansion you’re meant to call home. The grounds are about twice the size of the block you come from. Marble, gold, and diamonds – it’s so outrageously excessive it’s shameless. 

“I was told your brothers run routes for us to make ends meet.” He continues, looking at you and the expression on your face as you stare up at the chandelier – it’s clear you’ve never seen anything like it. “Fuck, I mean, I can’t imagine risking my life and still end up needing to pick between food or rent at the end of the day.”

Your gaze falls down to him at that. 

Clad in lush wedding expense – white gown and silver tiara – you still stick out like a sore thumb. Something in the way it wears you and not the other way around. It’s obvious you’re uncomfortable with it all. It’s probably worth more than your family's ever owned.

He steps closer with a chuckle.

“Then, the poor suckers go and fuck up so bad they end up needing to sell their own sister.”

He spots your fists ball at your sides. But you keep your cool. Only a slight grimace curling your lips along a tiny furrow between your brows. It all smoothens into something else when he reaches out to grab your chin.

“What’s even more funny…” He tilts your face in his hand – jaded eyes assessing you like he’s found a coin on the ground. “You don’t look like street trash like I expected.”

Your frown returns, and you try pulling back – but he grabs your arm before you can.

Tsking, “Ah-ah – Remember,” His smile sharpens. “You’re property now. When I touch you, you let it happen.”

You weren’t that easily convinced. He bet you’ve had to fight off a lot of unwanted attention back where you come from. But he isn’t some back-alley thug. When he wants something, he expects it not only to be served on a silver platter but to be hand-fed to him with a silver spoon.

He pulls the gun out from behind him. Slotted in the band of his dress trousers, it had stayed hidden beneath the coverage of his suit jacket during the ceremony.

Your throat dries up, and any protests you had died of thirst along with it – eyes wide as you stare at the piece.

You can’t believe he’d carry that thing into a church with vows upon his lips – now pointing it at the very same wife he’d made those vows to. 

“Make me spend a single bullet, and your family will share the rest.” He taps the barrel’s mouth against the quiver of your lips. “I’d rather not it come to that. It’ll ruin the carpet…”  

You quiver, feeling weak with a shudder – your eyes slip closed with a shivering tear.

“Not to mention this…” He strokes the pitiful droplet off your cheek with the weapon while eyeing the way you quake with grinning eyes. “Pretty little body I’ve only just acquired.” 

BNHA – Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji

BLLK – Reo

HxH – Illumi

[xhoneygirlxx]

We’re Not Friends

Best Friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: Eddie is just trying to help when he offers to be your date to your sister's wedding, but with all the love in the air will you and Eddie be able to stay friends?

warnings: lots of angst. reader's family sucks. reader's mom makes a comment about her weight. anxiety attacks. reader has low self esteem. fluff. best friends to lovers. fake dating. modern au. (this is titled after an Ed Sheeran song and I also use another one of his songs in the fic, sue me). slight smut. allusions to sex. alcohol consumption. swearing. minors dni!!!!!!!!!! reader and Eddie are both in their 20's. no y/n used, reader is referred to as Birdie. skin color/ethnicity/body type is not mentioned. spelling errors/shitting writing, just pretend you don't notice lmao. also the venue is completely made up and so is the location if you couldn’t tell, im not that creative.

*if I miss anything plz lmk*

a/n: hi my loves!!!! this is one of the last fics on my birthday fic list!!! I want to thank all of you for being patient and being so so supportive of my work. I love you all so much!!! also I do go back to work on Monday so I'm going to try to get as many fics pumped out by the end of the weekend.

And that's why friends should sleep in other beds

And friends shouldn't kiss me like you do

And I know that there's a limit to everything

But my friends won't love me like you do

The turning color of the leaves create the prettiest backdrop, tall trees blooming with orange, red, and a pinch of brown. The ones that have already fallen to the ground get swept up under the wheels of Eddie's car, lifting up and swirling around in a pretty dance, and falling right back into place waiting for the next car.

Although the crisp fall morning is peaceful you can't help but feel like you're living a nightmare. As he soft hum of Eddie's playlist flows through the speakers, you're coming up with a plan to turn the whole car around.

So far you thought about faking an illness, one that would stop the whole journey in it's tracks, only to dismiss it because you couldn't put your best friend through that stress. The idea of pulling the steering wheel also came to mind but you quickly threw that out of the window, not wanting to cause injury to the innocent man next to you or anyone else. Your final idea was one you're sure you could pull off as long as you used all the power within your being. If you pushed your feet on the floorboard hard enough, you could poke them out like the Flintstones and stop the car that way.

Between science and logic, you knew that wasn't possible no matter how hard you wished it would. Instead you'll stare out the window, watching all the pretty trees dance in the wind while you push down the rising anxiety that's forming in the pit of your stomach.

"You good over there, Birdie?" The deep voice next to you shakes you from your thoughts.

Turning your head Eddie's already looking at you with a lopsided grin. His demeanor matches the landscape outside, relaxed and serene. As you look at him you wish you could trade places, be as pleasant as he is.

"Yeah I'm just tired." Trying to sell him your answer, you smile lazily at him even though your response holds more tension than a game of tug of war.

Turning his attention back on the road, you watch as the pavement moves on the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Eddie looks pretty like this, even though you always thinks he looks pretty. Usually he would be a grump having to be up this early, but today he wears his smile like a badge of honor. The dark curls of his hair cascade down his back, while some falls over his shoulders.

He's wearing the same red and black checkered flannel he always does this time of year, the same one you said was your favorite three years ago and it still holds that title. Underneath is a plain black tee shirt, the only one he has that's free of any band name, and a dark blue pair of jeans that have no holes.

He's still the same Eddie, his rings still sit on his fingers and his pick still hangs from the chain around his neck, but it seems that he only gets prettier and prettier as time passes by - like the turning leaves that still hang on the branches of the trees that you drive by.

"I think you're worried about this whole wedding thing," His voice is unwavering, screaming "I'm right" like it always does. "I don't get what's so bad about an open bar and free food."

Although his point is valid, Eddie couldn't be more wrong than that. This wasn't just an event to get drunk for free and stuffed to the gills at no charge. This was your older sister's wedding, the same sister that was the apple of your parents' eyes. Veronica was your arch nemesis since birth, a rival that you had no option but to defeat in order to survive.

You were the outcast of the family, the black sheep if you will, and you had to endure eighteen years of nonstop torture because of it. Your parents, Christine and Tim, were nothing but successful. The doctor and his trophy wife, the star couple in your small community, that had two beautiful and healthy children.

However you were the hardheaded child, the daughter that didn't have a bright future, you didn't carry as much promise as Vee, and your parents made sure to remind you of that every day. So when you moved out three years ago, you made sure to distance yourself as much as you could. But when you received a pristine white envelope with a glamorous invite on the inside, you were roped right back into the hell hole you worked so hard to leave behind.

You could've just ignore it, faked that you were on a trip and couldn't make it but your mother pretty much threatened you into showing up. So that's how you ended up in the countryside right outside of Chicago, driving in Eddie's Toyota Corolla to the Jefferson Manner on a Friday at eight am.

"You're right, Eddie, I should be so thrilled by that. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me." It's snippy with a hint of malice, and your eye roll held enough venom to injure an army of men.

Whistling loudly, Eddie chuckles lightly. "Woah, killer. Relax, I was just tryna help." He's still soft despite your outburst, sweet like your pumpkin spice latte that sits in the cupholder.

Hanging your head, you inhale a deep breath and release it slowly. "I'm sorry, Eds. I just really fucking hate my family."

He switches his attention from you and the road, taking in your saddened features. Reaching his right hand over the console, he places his hand searches for yours and laces his fingers through yours, which you gladly except.

"Don't apologize for that, kay? That's a valid reason for you to not want to go, I was just trying to make you laugh." The sincerity in his voice wraps around you, easing the nerves that go haywire in your body.

His palm is warm like the coffee cups that sit in the cup holders, his voice is as calming as the trees in the wind, and his smile is just as pretty as it was the first day you met him. You're safe with him, the safest you've ever been in your life, and here in the front seat of his car he reminds you of that.

"They just make me crazy, s'why I don't like seeing them." You feel shy being vulnerable, refusing to meet his gaze by focusing on tracing the back of his hand with your free one.

Eddie doesn't mind, instead he reassures you with a quick squeeze of your hand. "If it makes you feel any better, Birdie, I like you a little crazy."

Dimples deep as the sea and smile still as delicate as a flower's pedal, Eddie looks like a painting that hangs in the Louvre. You want to capture this moment of him to have for the rest of your life, so no matter what you can always remember him just like this.

"You say that now." You tease and he eats it right up.

Looking back over to you, he shines his smile onto you, filling you up with the light of a million stars. "And I'll say it till the end of time." There's no tease to it, nothing but truth in the way he says it.

It turns you into jelly, the feelings that swim through your blood stream, and now you've become too sheepish to answer. You decided to trust your touch over your words, squeezing his hand the same way he did to yours, trying your best to communicate the feelings you hold secretly in your heart for your best friend.

The cobblestone driveway leading to the entrance of Jefferson Manner is, for a lack of a better word, beautiful. It is a straight drive to the property, but once you get closer, a large fountain sits in the middle where the arch of the circle driveway starts.

Different colored cars are already lined up, some you recognize and the rest you have no clue who they belong to. Either way it's pretty evident that Eddie 2018 Toyota sticks out like a sore thumb.

The same dread that you left 45 miles back, is now running through you again. Unintentionally, you squeeze his hand harder as your heart begins to pound in your ear and if it hurts him he doesn't mention it. Instead, Eddie gives you one, two, three squeezes and then lets you continue your attempt to stop the blood flow to his hand.

Pulling behind the Mercedes Benz S Class, he puts his car into park and then shuts the car off. Reading your expression the way he always does, he sits in the silence of the car with you until your features loosen up.

"You okay, Birdie?" Even though he knows you're not okay, you still appreciate him asking anyway.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself a few times, eyes clamped shut as you focus on your breathing pattern. Once your head is above water and your heart stops racing, you open your eyes back up to the real world.

Relaxing your shoulders, you let go of the grip you're holding Eddie's hand in. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." Despite answering him, it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself of what you're saying.

Another brief pause goes by and Eddie continues to monitor you, sunglasses now removed so not only can he see you but you can see him.

Your gaze is unwavering, the thousand yard stare has fallen over you and you have yet to dig out of it. "Are you prepared for what we're about to walk into?"

The tone of your voice scares Eddie, the emotion being sucked right out of the words that you speak despite the feelings that battle in your mind that he doesn't know about.

"Honey, I'm prepared for anything as long as I have you." For a split second he winces, wondering if that was too cringy but when your face breaks out into a sweet smile he feels better.

The two of you get out of the car, retrieving your suitcases and dress bags from the trunk. When the door shuts you begin to count the steps it takes to get to the big wooden doors of the mansion.

You don't have to ask Eddie for his hand, he's already giving it to you and you gladly except it, gripping on for dear life the closer you get. Despite the beautiful landscape and the soothing sound of the running fountain, you feel like this is the soundtrack that plays before your imminent death.

The tall, thick, wooden doors sit menacingly in front of you, the skeletons of your past standing just right behind it waiting for your arrival. The ghosts that have haunted your dreams, the graveyard of your history, and the phantoms of your family, mingle and laugh right behind this door.

Eddie waits for you, not moving a muscle until you say so, and you silently thank him with a smile. Like a switch, he watches your face change from flight to fight mode. In a flash your looking over your outfit, brushing down the long black sleeved shirt that sits on your torso, and then straightening out the jeans that stick to your legs.

Your hair is the next thing you frantically fix, pushing it behind your ears and out of your face, letting it fall over your shoulders while doing so. Like a buzzing bee, you zone in on Eddie, fixing the collar of his flannel and then smoothing the material of his shirt. With out speaking, you pick off a singular piece of fuzz from his pants and then let it blow away in the wind.

Moving your hands back up to his chest, you center the pick on his chain. Then move his hair, fixing the ringlets that got blown around in the breeze. Once your satisfied, you move back to your spot next to him and sweep his hand right back into your hold. Releasing on more deep breath, you settle your pinched eyebrows and your determined eyes, and let the worst fake smile settle onto your lips.

The smile doesn't reach your eyes the way it usually does, your teeth push against one another so forcibly Eddie wonders if you'll shatter teeth, and you simply look like your in pain. Either way, you push open the big oak door and let yourself inside with him following right behind.

The lobby of the manner is everything you expected, high ceilings, a crystal chandelier, and every single family member of yours gathered around sipping champagne and speaking to each other like a potential client.

Even though it's magnificent inside with the beautiful décor and lively plants, the sight of everyone in their gaudy outfits and cheap laughter makes it feel like an eternal hell.

Eddie must feel the way your shoulders tense because he's quickly leaning into you, his voice just a whisper in the shell of your ear.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. You have me and I won't let anything happen." He reminds you, his smile is more sympathetic than anything.

Nodding your head you remain smiling, it's awful and it hurts even doing it but if you want to survive the whirlpool of piranhas, then you just have to fake it until you make it.

"If it isn't our lovely Birdie!" The sound of your mother's voice is like silk, smooth and confident, just like she always was. Walking over to you, she holds a champagne flute in her hand and you wonder how much the bubbling spritz cost your father.

The last time you've seen her was last winter, her million dollar smile outshining the Swarovski crystal tree decorations that sit behind her. Your mother has always been beautiful but her insides are rotten, ugly and maggot infested, all hidden behind the mask that she put on for everyone to see.

You gave up a long time ago trying to figure out her brain, finally accepting defeat to the maze that was her mind. Now when you look at your mother all you see is a shell, a hallow covering that has nothing to offer you other than it's pretty design.

Pulling you into a hug, you're hit with her scent. She smells like Dior and cashmere, the Chanel outfit that sits on her body scratches your skin, and the pearl necklace she wears jabs you right in your collarbone.

"Hello mother, thank you for inviting me to such a wonder occasion." You instantly revert back to your old accent, the same one your mother instilled into you from the time you could even under stand the English language.

A faux laugh comes from her bright red lips, "No need for that, darling, you're always welcome." Her manicured hand waves at you in fake genuineness.

The smile on your face continues to show and you hate to think it matches hers. Even with the sweet tone you use and the gentleness of your actions, the blood that runs through your body continues to boil the longer she stands there.

Eddie on the other hand stands next to you completely and utterly amused by your fake performance. The snort he lets out when you continue to use your "eloquent" voice is quickly covered up by a sniffle.

Like a vulture, your mother's eyes are quick to zero in on the curly haired man next to you. "Excuse my daughter for her bad manner of not introducing us, I'm Christine."

The minute her hand reaches out for a handshake, you're heart stops. This is the one thing that could make or break this whole trip and it was the only thing you didn't prepare your best friend for. Many years of your life, you were trained that a handshake is all it takes for someone to learn about you.

Without skipping a beat, Eddie simply picks embraces her hand like a prince out of a Disney movie and places a kiss to the back of her unwrinkled hand.

"What a pleasure to meet you, Christine, I'm Eddie. And might I say how beautiful you are."

He's all dimples and doe eyes staring at your mother, a true prince charming in his red flannel and jeans. His voice is like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold day, it's smooth going down your throat and it warms your belly better than any blanket can.

That warmth is now tingling your body, a frenzy of butterflies flapping around in the walls of your heart. It clearly works on your mother as well but unlike you she doesn't hide it very well.

"You're really the charmer, Eddie." It's flirtatious and alluring, the same voice she put on for every pool boy your father ever hired.

Annoyance and anger floods through you and you know that your eyes would be shining green to anyone with a trained eye.

While she clutches her pearls and eyes Eddie like he's a four course meal, you intervene into the conversation before it can continue.

"Where's daddy? I'd really like for my boyfriend to meet him." You bat your eyelashes like a pageant queen and your arm acts like a python wrapping around Eddie's, making a mark on what is yours.

"Oh you're father's around here somewhere, you know how he is." She dismisses, taking a drink from her glass and swallowing down the golden liquid quickly. "So how long have you and Birdie here been dating?"

"It's going to be two years next month. Isn't that right, honey?" Eddie turns to you and gives you a playful smile.

Looking back at him you hope he can see the misery that hides being your eyes, a white flag of surrender.

Your mother on the other hand doesn't care about your answer, that's why she didn't ask you. She's reading Eddie, trying to see how much she can push your so called boyfriend until she gets what she wants.

"Well that's just wonderful, young love is a beautiful experience. You have to be careful with Birdie here, she's known to leave the nest quickly." It's a jab, a spiteful and mean comment headed right for your gut.

Eddie doesn't miss the way you're lips falter for a second, the flash of hurt in your eyes. It kills him watching you stand there and take all the comments from your mother like stray bullets.

Turning his attention back to your mother, he gives her a smile, one that you would know as a wicked one but to a stranger would seem kind. "I don't think that will be a problem. Birdie knows where her home is."

It's a direct warning, a clear sign to your mother to not mess with you or what is yours. Just him sticking up for you like that makes your stomach twist in excitement, a feeling you've grown so used to over the course of friendship with Eddie.

"Well, I'm glad she finally found her place then." Your mother responds coldly, clearly hearing the bite in his tone. "Why don't you two go find your room and get settled in, rehearsal dinner is in a few."

Before retreating into the large crowd of family, your mother turns back to you in one more attack.

"Oh and Birdie, wear something that will hide that stomach. Don't want anyone to assume you've been knocked up."

Once you've found your room, you all but rush Eddie inside slamming the door behind you. In the quiet safety of your suite, you can relax your shoulders that have been sitting high since you've arrive.

"Jesus Bird, you weren't lying." Eddie says as he flops himself on the queen sized bed.

You don't respond, instead you squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm the heaviness of your breathing. Behind the darkness of your eyes, little twinkles of stars flash from how hard you have them closed, the swooshing of your heart continuing in your ears like angry waves of the sea.

Breathe in. This is temporary. Breathe out. This is not forever. Breathe in. I am safe. Breathe out. I am here.

You repeat this to yourself over and over again, trying to erase the cruel words of your mother and the images of disgusted family member's faces out of your mind. You're not sure how long you've been standing by the door until a hand grasps at your wrist lightly.

"Birdie," Eddie's coax goes unanswered, "Come on, Birdie."

Warm calloused hands travel to the plump of your cheeks, lifting your face up just enough that he can see you. Finally opening your eyes, you're relieved to be looking into the golden whiskey pools of his.

Smoothing his thumb over your cheek he doesn't say anything, just lets your breathing calm down. Here you are, in the nice room behind the shelter of the locked door, and he's here.

Breathe in. It's okay. Breathe out. You're safe. Breathe in. You are here. Breathe out. So is he.

It's enough to let your feet move on the plush white carpeting, while Eddie leads you to the bed with the tug of your arm. Sitting on the plush mattress on crisp linen sheets you're grounded, and with the heat of Eddie sitting next to you and his hand in yours, you're anchored.

The rehearsal dinner goes over well enough, the Irish mule helping with every single speech that's given and every horror story of your childhood that is told. Luckily for you, Vee didn't ask you to be in her bridal party so you didn't have to attend the actual wedding rehearsal, and even better you won't have to deal with her for the real thing tomorrow.

Eddie does great at dinner, he talks to your father who surprisingly likes him, both getting along over their love for vintage cars. Your soon to be brother in law and his groomsmen also get along with Eddie, they laugh and cut up most of the time while clinking beer bottles together. Not to mention every single woman there wanted to get into his pants, swooning at everything he said and giving him the 'fuck me' eyes while doing it.

You hated it, every single minute of it. Like always you were ignored, simply looked over until some story was being told where you were ultimately the joke of. Any time someone asked you what you were doing with your life, you were met with cringing smiles and snickering laughs.

Four separate times your mother commented on your dress, the way it fit, the price value of it, and how it really wasn't a good color on you. All of your sisters friends rolled their eyes and whispered back and forth while staring at you, aunts and uncles acted dumbfounded when you told them that you were a freelance writer for a small music magazine back in Indy, and your cousins made comments about how badly you look since the last time you saw them.

It didn't matter anyway, even if your sister asked how you managed to get a stand up guy like Eddie to agree to be with you, in front of all of the guests. You had to remind yourself that you were there for the free booze and food or whatever the hell Eddie said in the car on the way here.

This wasn't a popularity contest for you, it was simply you being forced to do something against your wishes because your mother said so. You asked yourself why you even listened to her in the first place while letting the brown liquor burn in your stomach.

Why was it so important that you even showed up here? Why did you have to come to the awarding ceremony of favorite kid when you knew you weren't going to win? Why would you even set yourself up for such failure just because your mom said so?

Well, you're answer came when a flushed faced Eddie was laughing with your grandparents at one of the round tables in the corner. His eyes crinkled at the sides and his head was leaned back so you had a clear view of the neck you loved so much.

Then you looked over at your sweet looking grandparents who laughed loudly at whatever was said. Your grandmother had her hands on her cheeks, shaking her head back and forth, and beaming brightly. Your grandfather smiled around his cigar, big round belly jumping with laugher, and his cheeks smooshing up against the frames of his big glasses.

You didn't come here to win a competition. You didn't come here because your mother threatened you within an inch of your life if you didn't. You didn't come here because you thought it would be fun.

You showed up because you wanted to prove to the people who doubted you for so long just how happy you were. You wanted to prove that happiness doesn't come from the amount of money in your account or how many rooms sit in your house. You came here because you wanted to prove that they were wrong, that the grass on the other side of the fence could be green too, and that someone who grew up differently that you could still do amazing things.

Eddie was someone that your father would've had you kicked out over bringing him home in high school. Eddie was the boy your mother would tell you to stay far away from. Eddie was the kind of guy that your sister wouldn't look twice at because of who he was.

But right now, during the beautiful dinner the night before your sister's wedding, your best friend/fake boyfriend has them all wrapped around his guitar calloused finger.

-

Not much has been said between you and him, especially when he was the man of the hour. You're not really complaining though, you're happy that he made a good impression with them. When the night began to settle into your bones and the alcohol started to make you tipsy, you slyly walked up to Eddie and tugged on his sleeve to let him know it was time to go.

On the walk back to the room, you sway slightly with every step you take, balancing on the walls with one hand while the other holds your strappy heels. When Eddie stops and turns to the door of your room, you all but smack into him with clumsy steps.

While he fumbles with key, you're in blissful content with your eyes closed. The kick of the lock and the turn of the handle doesn't even pull you out of your daze, instead you hold your arms out like a mummy and feel around until you find Eddie's clothed back.

You can tell Eddie is laughing by the large breath that passes through his nose and the tell tale sign of him kissing his teeth. Large hands wrap around your wrists, guiding you into the doorway that you can't see.

Your cheeks are warm, the smile on your face is permanent, and the buzzing in your heart makes you feel light on your feet.

"Alright mummy, lets get you into bed." Letting go of his hold on you, you feel him slightly brush past you to close the door. His voice sounds like the way stars look, sparkling and bright, twinkling all around.

You giggle, eyes still shut and your nose scrunched up. "M'not a mummy but I could be if ya want."

Putting your arms out, you lean back and forth on your feet to mimicking what you think is a mummy but looks more like a zombie.

"Baaaaahhhhh, I'm a mummy. Be very afraid." You deepen your voice, dragging the syllables of every word to make them come out slower.

Eddie must be entertained because the sound of a loud raspberry comes from where he stands, the clear sign of him losing the grip on the laugh he'd been holding in.

Cracking one of your eyes open, you hope to find him with rose cheeks and dimples flashing, the look you love so much. Instead you see him, beaming at you without the shine of his canines. It's an admiring smile, one where your eyes go all gooey and your smile is simple yet dipped with so much love.

Opening your eyes all the way, you let your arms down slowly to rest by your sides, a meek look painting your face.

"Did I do good?" You ask, even though you didn't really want his opinion.

"I think you're perfect." It comes out even, smooth like the hilltops in December covered in a layer of the purest snow.

The two of you sit there for a while, soaking up the glow of each other and letting it sink into your souls. For a moment you wonder if he feels it too, the spark that you feel whenever he's around. You wonder if he feels like crying simply because he loves you that much. You wonder if he wishes this whole dating thing wasn't just a lie and that it was true, the same way you wish it was.

Once the moment ends for him, he's clearing his throat to clear any lovesick daze that's left. "I guess we better head to bed, huh?"

Scratching at the back of his neck, you try with everything in your power to not look down where his turtle neck rode up, where the patch of mouth watering hair trails from his belly button to underneath the waist of his pants.

A part of you wishes you stuck it out longer, stayed in your seat at the dinner table just to see him in his outfit longer. He asked you to help him pick it out this morning and when you think back to it, you get flustered with thinking how domesticated it felt. Making him try on different shirts and jumping for joy when he walked out of the bathroom wearing a turtleneck he swore he'd never wear. The khakis you pulled out of his suitcase was the cause of so much laughter and the pink tinge that sat on the rounds of his cheeks.

God, he looked so good, especially with his hair pulled back and the dangled earring that sat in his ear, but now it would all be a memory for you to file away in the back of your brain.

Eddie had already started taking off his dress shoes, sitting on the edge of the bed bent over and messing with the knots that kept the laces together.

The smile that once held your lips high and proud, now weigh down in a sad frown. Even after the success of the dinner and proving everyone wrong, you are now brought back to the reality of what you and Eddie were. Just friends.

"Since I'm a gentleman and I can't see to get these shoes untied, I'll let you shower first." His voice comes out strained from how hard he pulls on the knotted strings.

You don't say anything, quietly nodding your head before shuffling over to your suitcase that sits by the closet. Grabbing a sleepshirt and some shorts, you go to move around the lanky man that can't get his shoes off no matter how hard he tries.

Without a sound, you kneel in front of him, placing your clothes somewhere off to the side. Taking his calf in your hand, you place his foot on your thigh. Delicately, you remove the first shoe and then the next.

"Y'didn't have to do that." It's quiet but not enough to be a whisper, still you shrug.

"I didn't but I wanted to." It seems so simple when you say it, even though deep down inside you wanted that last piece of your fantasy before it goes away for the rest of the night.

"Will you help me with my dress?" You ask him, standing on your feet and turning so that the golden zipper is facing him.

In the mirrored closet door you can see him and how he hesitates for a moment, shaky hands lingering in the air before they close in on the gold slider.

The sound of the metal teeth unlatching from one another fills the room, clouding the unrhythmic beat of your heart. You try to remember the feeling of him on the sacred part of your skin, the way his light touch tickles you and makes goosebumps rise. You want to memorize it like your favorite song, so that when you leave this place and the fake nature of this whole thing goes away, you still have something to think about on those bad days.

It ends too soon for your liking, his hands retracting right back to the sides of his body like a measuring tape. With the fuzz of your tipsy has now wore off but the sting of everything still remains.

Giving him a small smile and muttering a thank you, you hide in the bathroom where the sound of running water hides the muffled cries that leave your throat.

Waking up felt more painful than any hangover you've ever had. The pain of Eddie's bare back facing you was heartbreaking. You force yourself not connect the freckles that litter his skin or trace your fingers along his spine and shoulder blades.

It's a sight you've seen plenty of times and sharing a bed is something you've done more than enough that you're not uncomfortable. Yet your heart squeezes, wrapping itself up in the tightest loop so that it hurts to even breathe.

The sound of his soft snores only makes it worse, imagining what he dreams about and if it's you.

You use all of the willpower that's left in your body, marching over to the small kitchenette that sits in the corner of the giant room. Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you try to focus on the swirl of dark liquid mixing with the coffee creamer and how they mix together so perfectly. Without much of a peep, you slide the glass doors that lead out to the balcony and sit down in one of the plush chairs.

You look out over the mountains of colors, tracing over the lines of trees that go on for miles. Although pretentious, you think Veronica did an excellent job and choosing this location.

Sipping on the hot beverage, you watch the clouds in the blue sky go by, wondering what it would've been like if your sister asked you to be a bridesmaid. You imagine that the two of you would've actually gotten along and maybe even laughed together. You envision what it would've been like to have your mother compliment you in your gown and how it would feel to take a picture with your family where all the smiles were real.

Tears begin to burn the back of your eyes, falling rapidly like a fall rainstorm. The skin of your cheeks burn slightly from the heated trails of water that fall. You're sad and incredibly so. Within the first twenty four hours of being here, you remember how much of an outsider you really are to these people.

Even with the company of Eddie, someone that truly loves you, you still can't help but feel so fucking lonely. To put on the mask you wore for many year back on and pretend that the man standing next to you is yours to claim is harder than any other time you had to do it.

This time you weren't really faking it, the love that you showed to him, the happiness you felt with him was real, just the titles weren't. With the cool fall chill, your coffee has gone cold but your tears keep coming.

"You made yourself a cup of coffee but not one for me, and this is how I find out? That's just mean." Eddie's curly hair pokes out from the small gap in the sliding back door that he's created.

His eyes are squinted from the harshness of the morning sun but his cheeky smile is forever unwavering. Sliding a space big enough for him to go through, he stalks out onto the small space in his plaid pajama pants and a hoodie he must've thrown on.

Trying your best to cover up that you've been crying, you wipe the back of your hand across your cheeks, but Eddie still catches your movements.

Instead of embarrassing you, he sits down in the chair across from you and looks out over the balcony.

"You okay?" It's a simple enough question, one that you can answer with one word and he wouldn't pry for more information to not overwhelm you.

Sniffling, you shake your head yes and then move your gaze to where his is. "No, yeah, m'good. The view really does something for me." You say, chuckling just a bit at your own joke.

Eddie also laughs, only this time it's not as genuine as it usually is, just a hard exhale through his nose.

"Yeah, sure does." He agrees, letting his eyes follow the red and orange of the tree tops.

A calm silence falls over you two, only the sounds of the birds that fly and the ruffle of the leaves can be heard from where you sit. It's peaceful.

"You know, I really thought this weekend would be different." It comes out of your mouth as easy as the breeze that blows. Still your eyes stay trained out in front of you and past the mountains of trees.

Eddie doesn't respond but the hole that he burns through the side of your head with his eyes tell you he's listening.

"When I was little, I used to imagine the day Vee got married. I would fantasize that maybe one day we could be close enough that I could enjoy this day with her and we could be sisters for once." You exhale an uneven breath, moving your sights to the cup that still sits in your hand.

"I just wanted all of us to be a family for once. I wanted my mom to actually act like she liked me, for my dad to say that for once he was proud of who I was, and for Veronica, I just wanted her to say she's happy that I'm her little sister."

Just like that, every single thing you've carried since you were little is now out in the open, whipping around in the wind like the dead leaves. Even with the amount of burden that's been lifted, the pain still remains the same. It all hurts, stabbing you over and over again in the scars that you worked so hard to patch up.

Eddie doesn't say anything and for a moment you don't think he'll say anything at all. You watch him pull out the pack of cigarettes he had nestled in his pocket and place one in between his pretty pink lips.

Another second goes by and he's flicking the wheel of his lighter, shielding the flame away from the wind so he can light it. When the end of the smoke burns red, he takes a big inhale and then lets the cloud of smoke out.

"I know what I say won't matter," He starts before taking another drag of his smoke, "But these people don't fucking mean anything."

"They're you're family and I get that but they don't fucking deserve you, they never have. A fake boyfriend, a new haircut, or a cool job shouldn't define their love for you. They're shitty people who were blessed with an amazing person and they didn't even realize it."

Eddie looks at you the same way he speaks, with nothing but truth. You let the words settle in your mind, letting them soak in, in case you forget.

The tears that once ceased start to flow again, except this time it's from relief. It feels good that someone else sees your worth, to know someone actually holds value to you.

"It kills me that they treat you the way they do, that they can say all those things without batting an eye. I know why you asked me to come here and I know I have a job to do, but man do I want to rip them all a new asshole."

Although he speaks with fire behind the words, you have to laugh from the thought of the actions. The moment you giggle, his own smile forms.

"I hope you know that I love you and when everything is done and over with, we'll give them the bird." To make his point, Eddie raises his middle finger high into the sky.

Repeating his actions, you hold your own finger to the sky and smile happily while doing it.

Letting his arm fall back down into place, he pats the tops of your thighs and stands from the chair.

"That's my girl, now let's get ready for an open bar and free booze." Holding his open palm to you, he helps you up.

The wedding reception was what you thought it would be, drawn out and boring. The only saving grace of the whole thing was Eddie's commentary, the scruff on his face tickling you every time he leaned close to your ear.

A lot of the things he was saying was probably just to make you feel better but you did have to agree, the dress Veronica picked out was a bad rip off of Princess Diana's and it shouldn't have seen broad daylight.

You did however get choked up when the vowels started, not because you were happy with your sister but because you wish that were you and Eddie up there instead.

All and all it was okay, even though one of your brother in law's aunt's wore a hat so big you couldn't see past it most of the time.

The wedding reception though was beautiful. The décor of the manner looked exquisite against the maroon coloring of all the bridesmaids dresses. The tables had beautiful bouquets sitting in the middle and you can't help but laugh imagining your father cutting a check for all of them.

To much of yours and Eddie's delight, there is an open bar that is stacked high with pricey alcohol. Again you laugh thinking about your father having to pay the tab, which you and Eddie will be happy to run up.

So far this is the most the two of you had fun, both laughing and enjoying the company that's around you. The table you've been stuck at is also occupied by other family rejects that enjoy the titles they've been given.

Eddie's hand hasn't left your thigh, which you're more than happy about, and every so often he flexes his fingers squeezing the meaty flesh.

You feel good, the boost from the drinks and the feeling of your best friend makes you bloom like a flower in the spring. You watch as he talks to the people at your table and how his hand moves with enthusiasm. You trace the muscles in his neck and watch his adam's apple bob up and down when he speaks. Your chin sits in the palm of your hand as you watch him be himself like he always is.

He's so beautiful, he always has been, and in this moment he gets to be yours. You don't have to think about what anyone else thinks, you don't have to question how the two of you look from another's perception, because you know that your heart bleeds for him and it always will.

Eddie's your home, he's your best friend, and he's your person. You think back to what he said to you this morning and how he called you a blessing but you think he's wrong. Eddie is the true blessing. He's sweet, he's smart, and he's so fucking caring it's disgusting. Behind all the jagged features and dark clothes, he's nothing but a giant teddy bear that wears his heart on his sleeve.

"Birdie." He smiles at you, all goo and mush it makes your heart skip.

You hum in response, still sitting in the same position, looking at him as if he were a painting.

"You wanna dance?" He blushes, embarrassed by the request and you feel like you're back in junior high.

"You, Eddie Munson hate dancing." You say, scrunching your nose cutely.

Laughing loudly, he nods, "Yeah, I know, but I'd dance with you."

That breaks you out of your daze, breath catching in your throat. "O-oh, yeah. I'll um dance."

Again he stands, holding a palm out to you so he can help you up. Leaning you to the dance floor, you can't help but feel jittery despite the wine that you've consumed.

Once out on the floor, he pulls you into his chest. Strong hands grip your waist through the silk fabric of your red dress and you desperately try to fight the need that rises in your guy.

You stand stiff, unsure of what to do with yourself and Eddie's quick to help you, placing your hands around his neck where they lay contently.

He looks good tonight, even better than last night, and you hate how it makes butterflies flap around in your stomach. The black button up shirt sits nicely on his torso, wrapping his arms so deliciously you want to take a bite out of them. The black slacks he wears fit nicely and you wonder if he had them tailored and you have to ignore the want to undo the sleek black belt with a bright golden buckle that holds them up. Again his hair sits in a low bun and that silver chain peeks out at you from underneath his collar.

"I can't believe you asked me to dance to Ed Sheeran." You say breathlessly, still nervous with being this close to him.

Eddie snorts, lopsided smile forming on his lips. "What, a guy can't like Ed Sheeran and metal? That's gatekeeping, sweetheart." He teases.

Rolling your eyes, you try to ignore that tingle that settles in your cheeks. "Whatever you say, Munson."

"I'm serious, Thinking Out Loud was in my top ten last year." The two of you hold eye contact until you can't take it anymore, both bursting into laughter at his admission.

"That's something you shouldn’t repeat." You sputter at him and he laughs even harder.

"Hey, I like this song, okay?" He defends, still swaying back and forth with you.

Raising your hands in defense, you pull back on your clowning for the sake of your friend. Placing your arms back around his neck, you lean your head on his chest and try to hear the beat of his heart.

The scent of him floods your nose, cologne and smoke, whiskey and linen, and you wish you could bottle it to keep forever.

"Why do you like this song anyway? It's kind of basic." You mutter at him.

His shoulders lift in a shrug, and he takes a moment to respond. "Honestly, I like it cause it reminds me of you."

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you remove your head to look up at him.

"Wha'do you mean?" You mumble, eyes searching his for some sort of answer.

Looking bashful again, red tints his cheeks and ears in a blush. Sticking his tongue out to wet his lips, he hesitantly answers.

"I always felt like he said everything I couldn't, ya know? Everything I ever wanted to say to you, he put in a song."

It feels like the whole world stops, that time freezes and it's just the two of you. You're in shock and for some reason you can't wrap your head around anything he's saying.

"What?" You say harshly and again he shrugs, shying away from your burning focus on him.

"Reminds me of you and everything I ever felt about you. I always wanted to call you mine but if you hadn't noticed, I'm a chicken shit."

You don't say anything, instead you stare at him with your mouth wide open. Eddie starts to loose his cool, frantically flexing his fingers against the material of your dress, looking around at anything but you.

"Sorry, I - shit, I really fucked this up," He doesn't get to finish his sputtering apology because you quickly smash your lips into his.

His lips taste like brown liquor and chapstick, like love and forever, and you can't believe you waited this long to experience it. Two heart sync as one, two people fall together like the leaves outside, and anxieties are finally laid to rest.

You hate that you pull away first but the need for air is too much. Eddie bends enough so that his forehead leans on yours, both looking into each other eyes living in the moment of your blissed out hearts.

"Tell me if I'm being too forward but do you wanna get out of here?" He flirts and you respond simply by pecking his lips once more.

"Thought you'd never ask."

thank you all for reading!!! love you guys <3

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[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Nanami x Reader

A Gift of the Magi inspired AU

Nanami and you met in college and fell in love fast. With his quick dry wit and your intellect, you got along and were a perfect match for each other.

Nanami proposed with his mother's ring. A simple gold band, tiny scratches all over standing testament to what was a long covenant.

You got married in a second hand dress, the lace of which you carefully repaired yourself. The hemline reached your ankles, and the bodice, pulled together with alteration after alteration sat snug on your body.

He wore his better suit, a cream carefully maintained over the years and his shoes polished till you could see your face in it.

The wedding party was small, family, and your closest friends. And when everything wrapped up and everyone said their goodbyes, Nanami knelt before you, taking your hand in his, and promised you that he would become a man worthy of being called your husband.

You knelt to meet his eye and whispered "You already are, my heart..."

But the recession hit and layoffs found you without a job. You desperately scoured the internet for work and looked through your contacts for any opportunity.

Meanwhile Nanami's company also downsized. Reducing both in a workforce and remuneration.

With paycuts and a lack of employment he worked twice as hard to provide. Making sure his pretty little wife would never have to do more than that which is necessary.

You took up a job in a convenience store, managing and selling people what they'd need.

And at night when you came home you'd come home to him, haggerd and sagging shoulders but your eyes lit up seeing the other.

Seeing you walking towards the apartment you made a life in, Nanami physically felt his shoulders lift. His spirit soar. There you were, an angel among the mundane. Your hair shone in the street lights. Your eyes twinkled like lanterns.

You felt a spring bloom in your step and ran into his outstretched arms as he enveloped you in the biggest hug.

"How was your day, my flower?"

"A little tedious but better now, my heart"

You walked up to your flat, in each other's arms. He nuzzled his nose against your head and kissed your hair. Dinner was an intimate affair. Rice, fish, miso soup with a generous sprinkle of kisses and hugs. Nanami felt you wrap your arms around his waist as he stirred the soup and fried the fish – your lips against his back, and turned around to softly press his lips against yours. Your hands reached up to his hair ruffling the corporate alignment away. His hands found home on the curves of your ass as he lifted you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Nanami drank you in. So many years after, but he still felt the butterflies he had when he first asked to kiss you.

When dinner was finished, and the plates cleared away, you both wasted no time in crawling into bed. The city lights illuminated the room, barely kept at bay by the thin curtains. And you found yourself being loved by your husband.

Fingers intertwined, he pushed into you, swallowing your soft moans and cries. His lips were hot against yours, tongues exploring. Your bodies moved in tandem, he knew yours so well. Your twitches, your shudders, every jerk leading to your climax. And when you did, he helped you ride it out on his cock, gently bringing you down from your high and finishing himself off outside you.

Nanami and you didn't have much, but you had each other, and at the end of the day that's really all that you needed...

A big thank you to @uchihasanctuary for hearing me out. When I had these thots in the first place.

[barry-j-blupjeans]

TAZ 2023 Fic Recs

It is that time of year again! Unfortunately, I don't have as many as last year, mainly because work and Life have been a lot this year. But I am very, very glad to share the fics I have loved this year and I'm looking forward to any other recs!

A Candlenights Barold by @sgrumby - or honestly, all three of the Reaper Squad Candlenights fics! Based off that one liveshow where Merle became Santa Clause. Now it is the job of Barry, Lup, and Kravitz to deliver presents to children every Candlenights! This one is based off A Christmas Carol and is not only hilarious but also super in character.

The Best Version Possible by @thedaisiestdaisy - Taako's experience with past romances, his current one with Kravitz, as well as the aftermath of Story and Song. This is a beautiful, meaningful fic that hits me in the feels every time I read it. It's such a deep, refreshing dive into Taako's character.

a monster might begin to worry by @anistarrose - In short, a Barry-kills-Governer-Kalen AU. In long: Such a good fucking fic. Rose's character voices are top notch and she's so incredibly good at playing with emotions and building up scenes. It's a god-tier Magnus fic, with some fun Magnus-Kravitz interactions and some wonderful hurt/comfort.

Also by Rose and very worth reading:

fill up your lungs, feel better - Barry spies on the BOBs corporate excursion and realizes his family still cares, even if they don't truly know him.

to eat from a poisoned plate - Barry leaves notes in Taako's cookbook.

somewhere over the rainbow (bluebirds fly) - Maureen and Lucretia fall in love. Then, Maureen and Lucretia fall out of love.

midlife crises, laboratory niceties - Barry bulldozes his way into being on the Starblaster crew. Davenport is very concerned <3

colors of space and time - Taako and Lup's relationship with their hair.

Rode Hard And Put Away Wet by @holdmecloser-gandydancer - Band AU!! My beloved!! Lup, Johann, and Kravitz are in a band and it gets. Tough. To put it lightly. Whenever Lup discovers Kravitz and Taako are hooking up. This is a WONDERFUL and super funny fic, that also has it's moments of deep reflections and a lil angst! Plus, Blupjeans! We love that!

Astrology for Horse Jugglers by @noodyl-blasstal - Kravitz and Taako meet at a wedding. This goes badly for everyone except them. This fic is pure chaos and I adore it so, so much.

We Got Boned! - Another one by Noodyl! Barry and Lup write a book for payback, kinda. This one is such a fun, weird turn of events. I cannot describe my love for it.

Revenge Plus One by @ceilingfan5 - Kravitz is invited by his ex (Edward) to go on a cruise. A cruise that will host Edward's wedding. And, to add insult to injury, Edward (rightly) assumes that Kravitz will have no one to bring along. So Kravitz does the responsible adult thing: Invite the gorgeous man who sells bagels in the work cafeteria (Taako) on the cruise with him. There is fake dating! There is tension! There is romance! I love this fic so much, I want to eat it.

a lesson in boy math - Also by Larissa! Speed-dating, Taakitz style. Both Taako and Kravitz are the best shade of weird in this <3

fashion statement by @journalofimprobablethings - Taako takes Lup's robe when he finds her and the umbrella. Lucretia deals with that. This fic? Destroyed me. And I loved it. It's pretty full of angst but the good kind, y'know?? I'm in love.

That's all I got this year!! I hope you all enjoy these fics as much as I did! They're all incredible and I love seeing all the different ideas and takes everyone has :O

[holylulusworld]

Between a rock and a hard place (1)

Summary: You are in big trouble and in need of money. Two wolves are more than willing to help you. For a price…

Pairing: Mobster!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Mobster!August Walker

Warnings: angst, language, power imbalance, debts, scared reader, extortion, mentions of character's death, mentions of a cheating husband, degrading, groping, implied mentions of prostitution

Between a rock and a hard place masterlist

They look like kings sitting on their plush chairs as you tremble in front of them.

In reality, they are wolves, with sharp teeth and claws ready to rip you apart.

One of them with thick and luscious curls and a thick beard, and the other one shares the same features with neatly styled hair and a mustache.

Walter Marshall and August Walker.

Both are equally pretty and deadly at the same time. Gods amongst mere humans. 

Their blue eyes sparkle as you try to find your voice. 

You’re a pitiful sight to them. A broke woman, with no hope, or money left.

All thanks to your useless and unfaithful husband. 

He recently passed away and left more than a hole in your heart. Six digits of debt are now yours to pay.

“I-“You drop your gaze and swallow thickly. You wring your hands, wincing as you miss your wedding band and engagement ring. “I sold my rings and all the jewelry I own.”

“How much do you have for us, mouse?” One of the wolves gets up to stand in front of you. He roughly wraps his large hand around your throat, thumb brushing over your windpipe. “I could easily break you.” He smirks, as your eyes widen in fear. “Maybe I will.”

“August,” the other wolf slowly gets up to place his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “We talked about impulse control, brother.”

“Ha! Do you want to tell me something about impulse control? Brother, you are the incarnation of impatience and easily loose control.”

You shrink into yourself. Crowded by both of them you feel even smaller and vulnerable. Your legs are about to give in, and you wince anytime their eyes land on you.

“I sold the car and his golf clubs,” you whisper, not daring to speak louder. “The house…I couldn’t sell it. The bank will take it.”

“You will learn that I hate repeating myself,” August flashes you a devilish grin. “So, how much do you have for us?”

“Eight thousand and fifty dollars,” you sniff. “I know it’s not much, but I’ll pay every buck he owes you back.” Your fingers tremble when you get the envelope with the money out of your pocket.

“Aw, look at her,” Walter coos to mock you. “She’s already trembling for me, brother.” He lifts your chin with his index finger. “Look at me, lamb.” He leaves no room for arguments when he intensely stares at you. “Good girl.” Walter praises when you hold his gaze for a few seconds.

“I wonder what else she has to offer.” While Walter cups your chin to tilt your head, August circles you like prey. “Tell me, mouse.” He whispers in your ear. “Is this cunt tight?”

“What?” You splutter, while tears well up to your eyes. You struggle to breathe. These men treat you like a piece of meat, not a person. All they have in mind is getting their money back. And they don’t care how you pay them back.

“We have a club,” August slaps your ass hard enough to bring more tears to your eyes. “Maybe you can work a dick to pay us back our money.”

“Brother, I don’t think this pussy is worth five-hundred thousand bucks,” Walter tuts, but his eyes drop to your chest. “Maybe she can ride my dick and I give her fifty bucks every time she swallows me.”

“Mouse, what do you say?” August places his hand on your shoulder. “I let you ride dick at my club, and you pay me back my money this way. Or do you want to ride his dick for the rest of your pitiful life?”

“No…” You shake your head. “You can kill me, but I won’t work at your club.” You have a little self-respect left. Even if these beautiful monsters hold your life in their hands, you won’t stoop even lower and sell your body to random men. 

“She’s got some fight left, August,” Walter smirks darkly at your predicament. You try to put a brave face on, but he can see the fear in your eyes. “So, lamb. How do you wanna pay us back our money if you don’t work his customers dicks?”

“I don’t know,” you sniff. “I’ll find a way. Even if it’s not my fault you lend money to my deceased husband. I didn’t know about any of this. He never told me about his problems or that he ate some other bitch’s pussy.”

“Walter, I think we got a cocky mouse,” August wraps his hand around your throat from behind to tilt your head. He forces you to look at him, making you wince in pain. “If I tell you to ride dick, you ask which hole my customer wants to fill.”

“August,” Walter tuts. “I think she’s too mousy for your club.” You hear August sigh deeply behind you. “I like me some shy mouse. They are best at sucking dick.”

“She owes us both, not only you.”

“If she works at the club we will never get it back!” Walter grunts. “If you give her to me, I’ll have a nice kitten to play with.” His features darken and he wraps his hand around his brother’s wrist. “We both know she’ll never be able to pay us back.”

“I’ll pay back every buck,” you croak. “Please…” You start to cry. “It’s not my fault he died and left me nothing but trouble and debts. I would’ve sold the house to give you the money.”

August huffs. He’s not in the mood to waste more time on you. “Have her for tonight. I want her at the club tomorrow!”

Walter glances at your quivering lips. He’s mesmerized by the sight of your fear. In his line of business, people mostly fear him. But he never was enchanted by one of the faceless people he tormented in the past. “No.”

“No?” August cracks his neck and gets ready for another fight with his brother. “Please enlighten me, Walter. How do you intend on getting the money back if you keep her?”

“I was looking for someone to share my lonely nights with,” Walter grins down at you. “She’s not too bad to look at and knows how to shut her mouth. I don’t like the mouthy bitches you wanted to share lately. All they have in mind are clothes, social media, and money.”

“Oh,” August drops his hand from your neck. He pinches your ass, making you jump. “You want to share the mouse?”

“I bet, she will look pretty stuffed with two big cocks,” Walter dips his head to glance at his brother. “Do you remember the cute little thing in Dublin? The one we found at the pub?”

“She squeaked like a mouse when we punched her pussy with our cocks,” August groans deeply. “She was tight but lacked endurance. I bet this one won’t pass out on us when we use her all night long.”

“Right, lamb?” Walter cups your chin again, “You will be a good girl for us. Did you ever cum on two cocks at the same time?”

Your eyes widen, and you feel an icy shiver run down your spine. These men see nothing but a body they can use in you.

You are trapped with them in their territory and scared shitless. Still, your panties dampen at the thought of them using you to their liking.

“She just pressed her legs together.” Walter drops his hand from your chin and steps away. He admires your trembling form for a moment, drinking every micro-expression in. “I bet she’s a little brainless slut.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[lunarw0rks]

Holding back from brushing my hair behind my ear and biting my lip

How do you think the boys display jealousy? Like someone gettin just a little too close and friendly with their sweetheart?

PRICE

the most openly possessive of them all

surprised that the man even approached, considering his palm as on the small of your back... and the fact that you were wearing a matching wedding band !!

but nothing stops creeps. that's quite obvious.

would put an arm around you and scoff, resuming on the path you two were walking.

god forbid the creeper says ANYTHING under his breath. might as well recite his last rights preemptively.

SIMON

honestly, finds it hilarious that it's happening at all

not because of you; you're a knockout, people will inevitably hit on you.

and he's not into PDA much, so it might not even appear like you two are together

but oh my god

getting in your personal space? god forbid, forcing you to do that fake laugh while unease flickers in your eyes?

if the guy wanted his jaw broken so badly, he should have just asked simon first.

grabs your arm and has you walk on the other side of him, silently giving the most sinister look known to man, sure to scare off ANYONE — most likely.

SOAP

the quickest to shut shit down, in an aggressive way

he has no qualms for someone sparking conversation, even if it's a man. he's not an insecure prick, just cautious.

but getting close to you? fuck no.

especially if it's a pub or store; soap is standing in front of you as soon as he can get over to you

makes it obvious that he, himself, is the obstacle the creep would need to get through first.

well, try to get through, that is.

GAZ

when he looks over, it's nothing major. just a flirty conversation with a seemingly clueless guy.

don't get me wrong, gaz hates it, but he's not going to cause a scene.

keeps his cool on the outside — at first.

as soon as it turns into an invasion of your space, all that's out the window

but is already picturing turning all 32 of the man's teeth into a necklace

selling his organs on the black market

and running him over repeatedly until he's a pancake

walks over and holds an item off the shelves to you, in hopes of steering the suitor away, "what do you think of these? would look great in the bedroom, don't you think, babe?"

pretends like the man isn't there, resuming conversation with you until he takes the hint and fucks off.

[selldiamond]

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[st0r-fruit]

HEAR ME OUT HAYARYUU SHIPPERS!!

Hayaryuu as girldads. Yes. You read that right.

Kamitani learning to tie his daughter's hair, learning all the styles so she can have variety of looks. (Akdhslkak imagine the visual of him sitting behind his daughter with his sleeves rolled up as his hands parting hairs into sections while the rubber band is hold by his mouth)

Ryuuichi cooking up her favorite things, packing up cute bentos for her lunch. (you can't tell me this man would NOT wake up earlier just to make bunny shaped rice with seaweed face or swan-carved carrots for his daughter)

Kotaro and Taka becomes best uncle babysitters, both being chaotic. Gaming together, eating together. She said "oh i can't play with my uncles tonight they have homework" and people around her are confused as hell. (Age add by 10 years so the kiddos r 12 years old)

Ryuuichi and Kamitani spoiling the hell out of their girl. Tea parties, picnics, outings, pretty outfits, toys, etc. They won't be adopting another kid because they have their little brothers to take care of as well so the little girl was the perfect addition.

Kamitani teaching her handy things in life like how to change tires, which screw is which, how to drive how to shop smart, baking, etc while Ryuuichi teaches her cooking, soft skills like talking to people and handling them, presentation, life lessons and morals, etc.

Both dads being supportive as heck in whatever their daughter does. They're the loudest cheerleaders and you bet they make motivation banners and props. Kotaro and Taka is there too, being their biggest fan aside from the dads.

Getting side eyed by parents in their daughter's class thinking their daughter should need a mother not two fathers but they're one of the PTA organizers and class representative and they're the cool parents kids love.

Ryuuichi bringing snacks to class events, and every kids love them he starts thinking of selling them in school. Kamitani being the competitive sports dad that argues with the coach when the coach gives a yellow card to his daughter cause what the hell. (He almost got into a fight with the coach)

Being protective girl dads, but not to the point it's toxic. Kamitani being the average dad when his daughter brings a boy to their house, very suspicious but is still polite. (Do no harm but take no shit--Kamitani)

They're definitely emotional in their adult daughter's wedding. Surprise surprise Kamitani's crying, sobbing. Ryuuichi having to have tissues by his lap to wipe it away on Kamitani's face.

I have more but this is it at the moment.

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #25 intuition

White Pony Tattoo - Part Five (intuition)

Sherlock took a sip of his tea and John felt a wave of jealousy for the teacup that was embraced by this perfect cupid’s bow of Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock swallowed and John mirrored the movement subconsciously, fascinated by Sherlock’s bobbing Adam’s apple.

He’s far too beautiful to concentrate, John sighed internally, how will I even survive getting tattooed by him, with his hands all over me? Well, all over my arm at least. But he will be so close. I’ve never met a person who at the same time is such a seductive menace and an annoying dick. Seems like he’s just my type, dear me.

“So,” Sherlock stood up again, unable to contain his excited energy about explaining his deduction, “how did I know?”

“I’m all ears, oh great Meastro.”

Sherlock flashed John an amused smile.

“When I first saw you, you had pulled off your jumper and were looking with disdain at the Virgin Mary tattoo on your upper arm. It sports the face of a real woman, your ex-wife apparently because of the marks on your ringfinger where your wedding band had been. Ergo she left and betrayed you and you’ll be divorced soon and want to eradicate every memory of her.”

“Okay, I get this. But the soldier? Getting shot and surviving in Afghanistan?”

“Your whole stance and demeanour screamed ‘military’. You still cut your own hair in short military style. Scar tissue on your shoulder peeked out under your vest. You’re not shy about showing off your naked arms but hate the scar. I’ve done a lot of research on skin and also cover-ups. I know a gunshot wound when I see one, one that got severely infected by bacteria and you survived sepsis. The skin is badly healed, so a quick emergency job. There are tiny spots of sun damage on the skin of your neck, they are fading but still visible. Ergo, you’ve been in a hot country with a war going on and got shot not very long ago where the British have fought, so soldier in Afghanistan or Iraq.”

“Amazing!”

“You think so?”

“Sure. What about the doctor part? Intuition?”

Sherlock snorted. “No. I don’t deal in intuition. I knew you were a doctor already, even before we talked about achieving perfection in our respective trades.”

“How so?”

“The position of getting shot in your back while you were kneeling. Exit wound is on chest, causing an intermittant tremor in your hand. You hate the scar tissue on your shoulder, you conceal it as it insults your ideals as a doctor. Only a doctor would have scrutinized my frontroom for cleanliness like you did. You saw the flyers about proper hygiene and skin care after getting a tattoo. You appreciated the skin care products I sell in this shelf here, obviously acquainted with them and knowing they’re the best you can get.

Also, a doctor because it’s the only logical reason why you should have been kneeling and bent over in such an unusual angle, so helping a comrade wounded in action. You wouldn’t have been distracted otherwise and missed the shooter because you automatically scanned the shop for any possible dangers when you entered and subconsciously stand at attention when you have to face a perilous task…”

“Perilous task as in getting you to tattoo me?” John intterrupted with a grin.

“Obviously, do keep up, John! You loved being a soldier and wanted the happy memory erasing the one of your ex-wife. You’re attracted to dangerous situations and people, they make you feel alive. Final conclusion, you wanted a soldier in full combat gear for a cover-up.”

“Holy Christ, you’re spot-on.”

Sherlock beamed, not hiding being very satisfied with himself.

“And are you?” John continued.

“What?”

“Dangerous to me?”

“Of course, I am. Firstly, I’ll come at you with a loaded gun…”

“…a tattoo gun…”

“…that still can cause a lot of pain and damage to your skin if wielded incorrectly.”

“I’ll give you that. And secondly?” John asked and took a sip out of his cup.

“Secondly, you find me dangerously attractive.”

John spat some tea onto the coffee table.

+++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk  @raina-at @calaisreno

[allycat75]

Screaming into a void time (another long one, sorry)...

Ok, I have tolerated these shenanigans with the Boston bonehead and his merry band of clout chasers and liars, watching his soul decay while everyone (including me) debated whether he was married or not, how many ceremonies they had, how they traveled and where they lived (and was it even their ugly-ass house in MA or NY) but I have to lay down some cold hard truths for our anxiety riddled pothead.

Your decisions, forced or not, have led you to this horrid point. Your only choices may have been between a turd sandwich and a giant douche (thanks, South Park) but you made that choice. And something tells me you didn't just come to this point out of nowhere. There were probably a string of missed lessons along the way that painted you into such a corner.

I know you may be fragile right now but you need to hear this as I suspect you are not hearing it from your loser friends or listening to the ones who do have your best interest at heart.

You are teetering on the ragged edge, my friend. I just saw the first trailer for Pain Hustlers and I can see why they released it only a week and a half before it is in the theaters- because Netflix wants to bury it. Another in a long line of duds your team should have been adept at steering you clear from. You better hope the strike last long enough to where Red One has to be postponed until next year, otherwise you will pull off the hat trick of working your ass off on three movies that have showcased how little anyone cares (you or the audience). I could be wrong about Red One, but this was filmed during your fugue state where the real Chris disappeared and was replaced with a stoned automaton who had no problem selling out everything he believed in. Not conducive to the best creative energy.

Well, buddy, it is time to wake up. You are aware of what is going on in the world, right? You used to have a website that cared about this stuff. Too bad you couldn't use this time off from the strike to pour into that instead of pretending to get married to a woman you refuse to touch or even sit near, breadcrumming two weddings by leveraging the poor boundaries you have established with your family and friends and giving the worst interview to GQ, making you look like a tone deaf, moronic, pretentious asshole.

You need to separate yourself from these racist, anti-semites NOW. While some outside the fandom are starting to notice, it will catch on like a house on fire if you aren't careful. Remember how easy it was for the fandom to find out all this shit about them last year? And now look at what is going on outside. Hamas is a terrorist organization who wants nothing more than to have Jews exterminated from the planet. And here in the US, we have someone vying to be Speaker of the House (second in line for the Presidency) who describes himself as "David Duke without the baggage"; you remember David Duke, right? You used to stand up to him before you were made to look like a fucking joke).

There is no such thing as a little bit racist, or a little bit antisemetic, and for all intents and purposes, you married one, with all her "baggage". Certificate or no certificate; pictures or no pictures. This isn't one of those things that you can claim plausible deniability. You are in it. And if you think your privlege can save you, maybe it can, but I doubt it. It may not have happened yet, but the Sword of Damocles is hanging just above your head.

It comes down to the difference between intent and impact. No one really believes this has been your intent, but that matters little to those impacted by your actions. I know you have "cyclical unhappiness" when you think about the small stuff too much, but too bad. There is no way to take yourself out of the equation. You are not a used car lot balloon, who frantically moves every which way until the air is let out and deflates into nothing. You are a grown human being and like all of us, have a responsibility to understand your place in the universe. Otherwise, you are just stepping over bodies with such carelessness- the teacher in Portugal who only thought she was supporting a charity, your friends trying to promote one of your crappy movies, only to have it derailed by your drama backstage, fans getting harassed and even receiving death threats for speaking the truth we see with our own eyes. You may not be doing these things with your own hands, but that does not absolve your responsibility.

As I said before, this is your time to wake up. Coming clean with pure heart and honesty is the only solution at this point. If you wait too long or dig your heals in, like we have seen before, it will be too late. Do you think Jinx will want to partner with an antisemite loving dog dad? What studio will hire you, even for your one movie a year? Based on your crappy decision making skills, I have a feeling any pottery you sell will be break even with the amount of pot you smoke. So invest wisely and I hope your accountants are more trustworthy than the rest of the people you have surrounded yourself with.

Now, I am actually a very kind person who for some reason is still rooting for you. I still think there is a good person buried deep in there. These are rare and may be why I can't give up just yet.

You have the con this weekend. I know you can't promote Captain America, but think back to what he stood for. You even referenced him and how you aimed to be more like him in that god forsaken GQ video. So do it, you dummy! You will feel much better when your soul is unburdened. Then follow the advise I and many others have given before:

Get a good therapist and do the work

Decide if you really want to act or not; if so, take some classes to shake the cobwebs off; If not, are you going to be ok giving up the perks?

Don't use weed as a crutch

Establish clear boundaries with family and friends

Remove relationships (personal and professional) that are no longer serving you or even doing you harm

Listen to what your head and the universe is telling you

Do not get into a relationship until you have an idea of who you are and at least get to the "like" stage

To quote Florence and the Machine (Wish That You Were Here):

And now I'm reaching out with every note I sing And I hope it gets to you on some pacific wind Wraps itself around you and whispers in your ear Tells you that I miss you and I wish that you were here

[tiannasfanfic]

GossipWeb

Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)

| Eddie Munson & Steddie Masterlist |

Summary: If you want to stay up to date on celebrity gossip, GossipWeb is the site to subscribe to! Monday’s Weekend Roundup for July 17 has an update on Corroded Coffin, and you should totally check it out!

Author Note: Modern Rockstar!Eddie AU. Reader not mentioned in this first part, but will be in future installments so I went ahead and labeled it as an x Reader fic. Written in the style of a gossip column.

CW: Mentions of divorce; mentions of alcoholism and drug addiction; mention of a fistfight.

(The following is an excerpt from the July 17, 2023 edition of The Weekend Roundup, a gossip column posted every Monday afternoon on GossipWeb.com and the GossipWeb app.)

Wedding bells are in the air for model Chrissy Munson and nature photographer David Greggs. The pair have officially announced their engagement on Sunday via social media, confirming recent rumors.

The happy couple shared the news on their respective Instagram accounts, showing photos of the two happily embracing on a beach at sunset. In one, Munson is holding out her hand to show off the huge sapphire and diamond engagement ring now sitting on her finger.

“I said YES!” Munson captioned her photo while Greggs captioned his, “She said YES!”

The pair first made headlines back in 2021, when they were spotted having dinner together just a few weeks after Munson filed for divorce from Corroded Coffin’s frontman, Eddie Munson.

While “Irreconcilable differences” were listed in the official court filing, representatives for both Eddie and Chrissy have declined to comment further on the matter. In the social media post announcing the divorce, Chrissy took a diplomatic path, stating, “Sometimes our plans in life just don’t work out the way we want them to. Unfortunately, this is one of those times. I wish Eddie nothing but the best and wish nothing but happiness for him. While our marriage may be over, he will always hold a special place in my heart.”

But, while her words made it sound like the split was an amicable one, many have their doubts it was that simple.

Rumors had been circulating regarding her ex husband’s hard partying lifestyle for years. Insiders have come forward to provide accounts of escalating drug and alcohol abuse, and extremely irrational and erratic behavior from the rockstar. Shortly after the divorce filing, it was reported to multiple news outlets that an intervention was been staged for Munson just a few days prior to the court filing, but it had failed.

In related news, the former members of Corroded Coffin are continuing to stay busy and are enjoying far more laid back schedules.

Following a highly successful album with their band Fallen Shadows, Jeff Richards and Grant Lee have announced a small, twenty city tour that will occur early next year. While the dates and cities are still to be determined, the two are looking forward to getting back on the road.

“It’s been awhile, but we’re itching to get back out there,” Richards stated in a Facebook post. “There’s nothing like bringing our music out into the world and sharing it in person with the fans.”

But Gareth Emerson hasn’t been so eager to return to the spotlight.

Following a successful stay at the Betty Ford Center, which he entered in December 2019, Emerson says he has done a lot of thinking about his life and who he wants to be, both as a person and an artist.

“The stress I was constantly putting myself under was ultimately my downfall,” he explained in a Facebook post full of self reflection. “And one of the biggest stressors for me was the constant need to promote myself, to sell myself basically. I stopped feeling like a person and started feeling like a piece of meat. In this business, it doesn’t take long before you start getting treated like a machine and you start looking for ways to cope. And, usually, you find yourself coping by turning to drugs. Now I don’t have to just cope because I refuse to put myself back in that stressful position.”

Emerson continues to write and record new music, which he releases on iTunes under his own name. While he’s leaning heavily into experimental sounds, his new style seems to be gravitating towards a blend of classic rock n’ roll, folk and heavy metal. It’s not a combination you would expect to hear from a speed metal drummer, but Emerson clearly has hidden talents he’s only just starting to show the world.

As for the frontman and lead guitarist, Eddie Munson, unfortunately, there’s not much can be said.

The statement from Corroded Coffin announcing their hiatus came in late 2019 just a few days after Munson and Emerson’s very publicized fistfight at the UK Music Video Awards. While he virtually dropped out of the spotlight as a musician in the following months, Munson was frequently in the news due to his excess partying and rowdy behavior.

Then, in 2022, he unexpectedly disappeared from the LA party scene, only to resurface a few months later in his old hometown of Hawkins, Indiana.

Representatives for Munson have declined to comment, so the true reasons for his returning to Hawkins are still unclear. The rocker has yet to make any return trips home to California within the last eighteen months since his departure. This adds credibility to a more recent rumor we reported on last week that Munson is in negotiations to sell his Malibu home to a private seller.

Perhaps the rockstar has finally turned over a new leaf?

Some signs point to yes.

Earlier this year, Gareth Emerson’s wife, actress Kim Simmons-Emerson, sent well wishes to Eddie in a heartfelt Instagram post. She posted an old photo of Munson and Emerson from high school with the caption, “Today marks a new beginning for old friends. We’re so proud of you. We knew you could do it.”

Subscribe to our free newsletter to stay up to date on any new developments!

[eris-snow]

𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝

Tags: bakugou x fem!reader, bakugou x ochaco, angst

Your first love felt as warm as the sunshine, and as welcoming as a fireplace.

Bakugou was your first love.

As warm as the sunshine, and as welcoming as a fireplace, that's exactly what first love was like for you.

The wind picks up speed whenever you see him again, as if guiding you to him...or pulling him away.

Awkward silence engulfs the two of you when you see each other again. He has Ochaco now, and he has a familiar large, protective hand snug around her waist, right where it used to be around yours.

You wish Ochaco's meaner. Wish she was cruel, unkind or even taunting just so it'd be easier to hate her. She's the opposite though. Bubbly, beautiful, strong, all encapsulated in her being displayed like she was an angel from heaven.

You can see what Bakugou sees in her.

You remember the feeling of your heart breaking all too well when you see him dipping her into a kiss at their wedding. You wish you hadn't been invited.

You do your best to feign smiles to ensure the couple that you're over him, over them, but it reaches the breaking point when they start with speeches.

You're not over Bakugou, the wound is still so fresh, and it never really set in for you until you see that dazzling ring on his finger, an identical band around Ochako's on the same hand.

Perfect, smiley Ochako.

It feels a little chilly in here, don't you think?

"I don't deserve you, Ochaco," God, her name sounds so fond when it comes out of Bakugou's mouth. A gentle caress contrasts his gruff, raspy voice that makes everyone coo. "No one here knows what shit we've gone through, the war, the damn PRESS THAT WON'T LEAVE US ALONE!" He emphasises this by throwing a withering glare at the cameraman as if daring him to sell the photos to the internet.

Everyone laughs good-naturedly, and you're the only one that feels a sting to the heart at every sentence he utters. "I'm not good with words, but I mean what I fucking say. I love you, Ochaco," There's a pause, not an ounce of doubt and it's ripping you apart as everyone around 'awws!' at his bold declaration.

"I'm not gonna elaborate about how I'll catch every star in the universe for you, or whatever poetic Shakespear equivalent you're expecting. I love you. Those words, those three simple words? They prove my fucking point."

He just had to say it again.

Your heart is shattering with every word while you gather up the shards with gloveless hands. Each fragment cuts deep, and it feels like there's a messy trail of blood trickling behind as you hug the splintered memories close to your chest.

"Izuku," You whisper, catching his eyes with a pained gaze. "I can't do this anymore. Could you tell them that I'm sorry for leaving so early? I-I just...don't want to ruin their best night and-"

Izuku cuts you off with a tight embrace. "Go," The hero says, smiling gently in understanding. "I'll explain it to Kacchan."

You thank him profusely, saying that you'd do anything to make it up to him for the trouble but Izuku just waves you off, telling you to have a safe trip home.

You hastily grab your coat from the rack, finding a bench to take your high heels off and exchange them for comfortable sneakers.

"Leaving so soon?"

Your head snaps up so fast you thought you'd dislocate something, and your eyes meet red.

Bakugou.

Your guard flies up immediately, expression guarded. You're not faking happiness, simply a void of emotion, neutral and defeated.

It fucking hurts.

"Izuku told me," He said, raising an eyebrow. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, yes, maybe." You laugh at yourself. "It's been quite a night."

Bakugou never meant to hurt you, and never, ever to this extent. He sits down. "Congratulations." His eyes meet yours, and they're so fucking blank like it's your only way to stop yourself from crying. "Ochaco's a wonderful person. I couldn't think of anyone better suited for you."

Bakugou studies you carefully and watches out for a lie but never finds one. Oh, God, you mean it. Bakugou sees what you're doing. Your self-esteem has crashed into the negatives because you don't even believe you were even worth it.

Bakugou can't help but cave.

"L/n, you know that it wasn't you, right?" He insists. There's an arm's length between both of you like you're afraid he gets too close. "It was me, fuck, I wasn't ready for a relationship. Not when I wanted to be the number 1 hero-"

"I get that." You interrupt calmly. You don't smile, you don't frown, simply keep that dumb sangfroid mask on your face. You've always been too fucking respectful. "I know everything, that's why I need to go tonight. It's painful knowing."

Bakugou wishes you'd show him something. You used to be an open book, full of life whether it was large, overexaggerated reactions or the energetic person that'd always make time for him, but now you look...tired. Subdued, if you will, as if the life got sucked out of you. You're so tensed that it makes Bakugou's eyes furrow because, gosh you seem so quiet now.

Just a sign...a tear forming, eyes misting, a bottom lip quivering perhaps? Or maybe he'd get a hearty laugh and a smack to his shoulder for him being so concerned.

Any second now.

The blank look stays in your eyes. There's nothing.

"You were great out there." You continue, finally averting your gaze to slip off your shoes. "Ochaco's lucky to have someone like you. Your speech spoke volumes. I think she'd like those bentos you make for her on the daily. I remember seeing them on her desk when I got the same patrol shift as her-"

"L/n, listen, I-"

"Your skills really improved," You power through, tying your laces on the sneakers now. "You should keep doing them, you know?" your laugh sounds more like a wheeze, like there's glass stabbing your lungs. "Bet they tasted heavenly-"

"Y/n, stop-"

"Her face lights up every time she sees you, y'know?" You stand up, eyes staring up at the stars. "She loves it when you surprise her, I remember that one time-"

"Sunshine!" yells Bakugou.

Your eyes flicker back to his, finally pausing your rant. "That's playing dirty, Bakugou, I thought you'd never call me that again." You frown.

You're like a different person now, so rational and collected it throws him off. "I just..." He runs a hand down his face, and you look at him curiously, guard higher than ever. You fully expect him to do say something worse, and he hates it.

He was young and cruel back then, he should have handled the breaking-up process better, not just...tell you so out of the blue as if he simply wanted to tell you his hero schedule for the month.

"I'm sorry," Bakugou apologises, soft and genuine. You look as if he just grew another head. "I never got to...apologise. You didn't-you never deserved to be let down like that, I should have done it better. I should have done..." Bakugou's eyes drop down to his ring, shiny and beautiful, just like his life ahead. "a lot of things better."

You catch him staring, and shake your head. "You shouldn't dwell on things so far back in the past," You chide. "What's done is done. I forgive you."

Stop.

Show him something, anything. Bakugou knows, he knows you're breaking inside, knows you want to slap him, laugh at him...he doesn't know but just anything!

Instead, you make your way to the door. "I'll be going now," You bow towards him, the corners of your mouth upturning into a small smile. "Have a good night."

Bakugou's eyes trail to your face, but you've already turned your back onto him. His eyes fall on your shoes, the same, battered sneakers he'd gotten you close to a decade ago back when you were together.

"Good night," He whispers softly, staring at your back a little longer before closing the door.

Your high heels dangle on your fingers as you use another to wrap your hands around yourself, a bitter laugh escaping you as your tears overflow.

It's really cold out tonight, isn't it?

---

End notes:

I don't really know why, but I started to tear up while I was writing Y/n talking about bentos. I was really feeling this story, so I hope it came out well.