#sending love your way THROWING TONS of hearts at you!!! thank you again!!!!!

[awakenthebeing]



I drew piepoe again :]

WAUGHHHH BRO!!!! I LOVE IT.... I LOVE HOW YOU DREW HIS HAIR AND THE LITTLE PINK HIGHLIGHTS WITHIN IT TOO!!! SUCH A SWEET TOUCH.... AND THE BOW AND ADORABLE HAIR CURL!!!! HOLDING THIS ARTWORK SO KINDLY THANK YOU SO MUCH....!!!!!!!

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, insecure eddie makes an appearance, eddie’s pov, tons of kissing, drug use (weed), grinding/dry humping and a whole lot of cheese, what can i say? (it’s a given with these two)

part four | part six

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 4.9k

a/n: damn this was a long time coming. thank you guys for being so patient with me during this writing slump. also big shoutout to @strangerstilinski for gifting me that one porno title. but i really need to give the biggest thank you to my bestie @undead-supernova ! august, you have truly helped me improve my writing so much over the past year, and i hope you know how much i love and appreciate you. this chapter is dedicated to you boo xx.

“You cannot be serious, sweetheart,” Eddie deadpans, looking between you and the VHS tape clutched between his fingers.

You feel your face warm, his overly exaggerated tone causing another customer in the horror section to give you both a sideways glance.

“As a heart attack,” you mumble, grabbing a copy of Children of the Corn to read the back cover in order to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Never seen Alien, she says…” he huffs under his breath, “It’s a classic!”

When you finally dare to peek up at him under your lashes, he’s giving you a look of utter disapproval that wavers on the edge of teasing.

“Sci-Fi isn’t really my thing,” you shrug, putting the tape back and reaching for another.

“But Evil Dead is?” he muses, leaning forward over your shoulder to glance at the cover art.

The background is dark, with two grotesque-like hands reaching into the frame and toward a bloodied Bruce Campbell holding a chainsaw above his head. When Eddie leans in closer to get a better look, the tips of his fingers brush against your own in the process. The gentle touch sends your body into overdrive and you swear your heart is about to leap out of your chest from the proximity.

“Well…what about this one?” you ask, stepping out of his embrace to head further down the aisle, ignoring the rising heat in your cheeks as you nearly stumble. Damn heels.

“I would argue that this is a classic.”

But Eddie just slips in behind you again, resting a hand on your hip while you hold a copy of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in your hands.

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, holding back a snicker as you gasp in mock offense.

“You doubt my judgment?”

“Of course not,” he insists with a small snort. “But…maybe you have a thing for guys who wield chainsaws.”

You catch the sly grin that stretches across his lips out of the corner of your eye, a loud laugh puffing out from his chest when you playfully smack his shoulder. Eddie grabs the tape from you, leaning in a little closer until his lips brush against your ear.

And he doesn’t miss the subtle hitch of your breath.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart…” he cheekily assures, “Your secret is safe with me.”

When you throw a playful glare his way, he merely winks in response. Then he turns on his heel to stride back toward the front counter, snagging a box of Reese’s Pieces on his way. You fumble a step behind him before glancing up.

The employee manning the counter is someone you know all too well.

His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, the ends brushing against his forehead and falling into his eyes. But he’s still just as handsome, if not annoyingly so. And when Eddie sets the tapes on the counter, Steve barely spares him a passing glance. His brown eyes quickly settle on you as his lips pull up into a lazy grin.

“Find everything you were looking for?” he asks, the cadence of his voice is low but filled with a sticky sweetness that has your cheeks warming.

And if you didn’t know any better you would think he was flirting with you.

“O-Oh, I, uh— ”

“Yeah,” Eddie cuts in, his voice a little strained. “We found everything just fine, man.”

Steve gives you another soft grin as he snaps open the first case, a small snort leaving his nose.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the gore fest type.”

But that slight hint of disbelief in his tone has you wanting to shrink in on yourself.

“Then you don’t know her very well,” Eddie mutters under his breath.

Only, his snide comment isn’t as quiet as he initially intended.

But Steve says nothing, just clears his throat and runs a hand through his chestnut locks before sliding the movies across the counter. The clacking of the keyboard fills the uncomfortable silence as you tug at the worn vinyl on the counter.

“That’ll be $12.35.”

You can feel Eddie tense beside you.

“I thought the movies were 2 for $4 tonight?” you chime in softly, confusion scrunching your brows together.

Steve’s lip quirks up in a slight smirk as he glances between you and Eddie.

“Well, Munson here has racked up quite a lot of late fees…” he trails before whistling. The flash of amusement in his eyes has Eddie’s narrowing in warning.

But that look only seems to encourage him.

“Looks like we’ve got Erotic Night of the Living Dead, returned three days late. Munch Masters Vol. I…”, Steve pauses to scroll further down the list. “…and Vol. II, that was a week late.”

He flashes Eddie a condescending grin, “Must’ve really liked that one, huh?”

But before Steve can embarrass him further, Eddie fishes out his wallet and slams a couple bills down onto the counter. He grabs the tapes, tucking them under his arm and slips his hand in yours. The boy all but pulls you out of the store, his chin tucked toward his chest to try and hide the flames licking his cheeks.

Despite his ever growing irritation—fueled by the embarrassment of what just transpired—he still opens the door and helps you into the van.

Ever the gentleman.

“Harrington’s got some nerve,” Eddie mutters under his breath as he slides into the driver's seat. “With his nice smile and his stupid hair…” His voice drips with condescension as he slams the driver's door shut behind him.

“Embarrassing me is one thing. But blatantly flirting with my girl, right in front of me—like I wasn't even there?! That’s low even for him.”

Eddie doesn’t even realize what he just let slip, too busy fumbling to stick the key into the ignition.

A beat passes before you manage to gather the courage to speak, the jingling of keys echoing in your ears.

“Your girl?” you ask carefully, heart lodged in your throat.

Eddie’s whole body tenses, taking his time in setting the tapes down on the dashboard before finally turning to face you.

“Well…I, uh, shit,” he whispers, splotches of red beginning to creep up his neck while he exhales sharply through his nose. “I wanted to ask you in a proper, more romantic way—”

You suddenly turn in your seat, your grip on his collar firm while your lips manage to cut him off with a surprised hmph.

But he’s quick to recover, mouth molding over yours with an intensity that would make your knees buckle if you were still standing. And he keeps kissing you, slowly, deeply…until the windows begin to fog up from the heat of your mingling breaths.

“I don’t need romantic, Eddie,” you manage when he pulls away for some much needed air, your nose nudges against his own before you press another gentle kiss to his swollen lips. “Just you.”

And his answering grin is all the reassurance you need.

“Welcome to my castle,” Eddie says, gesturing toward the pale blue trailer with a tentative smile.

He barely let you push open the passenger door before he was running around the front of the van, almost dropping the VHS tapes tucked under his arm in the process. But the soft giggle you let slip when he bows and offers you his hand had his heart skipping a beat.

He keeps your fingers intertwined as you walk alongside him to the door. The uneven gravel makes the otherwise short distance in your heels a little more treacherous than normal. But Eddie is more than willing to catch you at the slightest hint of a wobble in your step.

The night air is far more frigid than either of you anticipated, and the shiver that ripples through you has him nearly dropping the keys in his rush to open the front door. He curses softly, breathing out a sigh of relief when the door finally swings open.

“Ladies first,” he grins, gesturing you forward.

Once you're both safely inside Eddie drops the keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and switching on lights as he goes. He inwardly cringes when he spots the fast food wrappers scattered across the counter and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

What a great first impression, Munson.

But when he remembers the current state of his bedroom, his face pales.

“Uh, I’m just gonna…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck before motioning behind him with his thumb. “Grab a new shirt, but go ahead and make yourself at home.”

Eddie waits until you’ve taken a seat on the sofa before starting down the hall. He’s frantic when he bursts through his bedroom door, immediately eyeing the pile of clothes strewn across his unmade bed. A disaster he left in the wake of trying to pull together a last minute Halloween costume.

He found the orange shirt that’s currently adorning your frame in the very back of his closet, a lost relic from the one time Wayne had managed to take him hunting. Eddie had fallen asleep up in the deer stand and almost shot a crossbow through his boot, and Wayne had vowed never again.

He had grabbed a discarded sharpie off his nightstand, the cap tucked between his teeth as he scribbled This is my Halloween costume across the front in his signature messy scrawl. While it wasn’t his most creative idea to date, it was either this or the god awful pirate costume he’d been suckered into a few years back. That most definitely did not fit him anymore.

Eddie scoops up an armful of clothes, tossing them onto the already cluttered floor of his closet. His movements are erratic, nearly tripping over one of his amps in the process. While Eddie isn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, he is unable to disguise the way his hands are trembling.

He’s nervous, so fucking nervous.

And when he dares to peek out of his room and down the hall, he immediately has to remind himself to breathe.

Because there you are, sitting on his couch, wearing his shirt. Looking almost heaven sent, your eyes alight with wonder as you take in the collection of hats and mugs adorning the walls.

“Get a fuckin’ grip, man,” he mumbles to himself, dropping to his knees to shove more of the remaining clutter under his bed.

Once he returns to his feet, he slips his jacket off his shoulders and tosses it over the back of the chair before rifling through the top drawer of his dresser for a new shirt. Despite what a majority of the town believed, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was no stranger to the sins of the flesh. He’d lost his virginity his first senior year in the back of his van to band geek, Polly O’Donnell.

Which was probably why her mom had failed him two years in a row. Not that he was keeping score or anything.

But even in that moment, Eddie hadn’t felt this nervous.

Maybe, it was because he didn’t harbor the same feelings for Polly that he did for you. Or perhaps the real reason was that he just didn’t trust people or their intentions. His tumultuous upbringing and treatment by his peers was testament enough of that. So Eddie kept most people at arm's length, not allowing them to see past his scary façade.

It was safer that way.

But one look from you was enough to have his carefully crafted walls crumbling down, laid to rubble beneath his feet.

And that’s the thing that scared him the most. That he would willingly throw himself (and his heart) into the crossfire if it meant you would continue to look at him like that.

Man, he had it bad.

He huffs out a breath, grabbing the first unwrinkled shirt that he can find and pulling it over his head. The male takes one final glance around his bedroom, deciding it’s good enough before he turns to leave. But something on his nightstand catches his eye, the joint he rolled earlier practically beckoning him with the promise of sweet relaxation.

And with the state of his jangled nerves, he could use all the help he could get.

So he slips the joint behind his ear, spinning the lighter between his thumb and forefinger as he pads down the hall toward you.

And while his nerves were ravaging his insides, you aren’t faring much better.

You had counted every mug and hat that lined the walls of his living room twice over, in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from the fact that you were actually here with him. All alone, with no prying eyes or listening ears to interrupt you. And despite the fact that he just put a shirt back on, it doesn’t stop your thoughts from wandering to not so innocent places.

The sleeves are cut off, showing off his surprisingly toned biceps. An array of dark ink flows over his arms, the black shirt making him appear almost paler in comparison. You tuck your lower lip between your teeth when you see the muscles in his forearms contract when he places his palms flat on the counter.

Your thighs press together as your gaze travels lower, where his jeans cling a little too tightly to his—

“You still up for some pizza?” he asks, picking up the phone and interrupting your thoughts.

“O-Oh, right!” you blink, averting your eyes. “Pizza sounds great.”

He quickly punches in a number before you can ask any further questions, holding the receiver up to his ear.

“Hey man, it’s Eddie,” he says after a few moments.

The male tucks the receiver between his ear and shoulder while he speaks, fingers drumming lightly along the countertop. The movement causes his hair to fall over his face, a stray curl eventually finding its way into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah the usual.” he sputters, spitting the hair out and tucking the wild curls back behind his ear. “But uh, can I get olives on half?”

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes roll into the back of his head fondly. And it has you contemplating what other ways you could make his eyes roll back.

“No no no, I have not become an ‘olive enthusiast.’” He scoffs, fingers curling into air quotes. “I just, I have…” he pauses, dark eyes flicking over to you. “I have a guest over tonight.”

And the way Eddie has to hold the phone away from his ear has you stifling a giggle. You can hear a muffled voice on the other end, their enthusiastic lilt apparent even from where you are perched on the end of the sofa.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” He chuckles, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “But that should be it.” Eddie tucks the phone back in between his shoulder, reaching to grab his wallet from his back pocket.

“Oh wait, wait!” He exclaims, slapping his palm down onto the counter. “Add on an order of those cinnamon breadsticks too.”

You wish you could’ve been privy to their entire conversation, because the way Eddie flushes a deep crimson before he playfully tells the person on the other end to ‘kindly fuck off’ and hangs up the phone, has you beyond intrigued.

He takes a couple more bills out, tossing them on the counter and slips the wallet back into his pocket. The chain jingles against his thigh with each step he takes, your eyes unintentionally following the movement. He plops down onto the sofa beside you, the heat in his cheeks fading into a soft, rosy sheen.

“Nina’s is busy tonight,” he murmurs, setting something onto the small table beside him. “So, it might take a little longer than usual.”

“How did you know Nina’s Pizzeria was my favorite?” you ask, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Well,” he hums, leaning his head back against the cushions and giving you a lazy grin. “I just assumed you had much better taste than Domino’s, sweetheart.”

You playfully whack him with one of the throw pillows beside you, a stunned expression crossing over his features. Half of his hair is ruffled from where the pillow connected with his head, and this time you can’t contain the giggles from bubbling up in your chest.

“Oh you are so going to regret that, baby.” he taunts, eyes narrowing in a predatory manner.

And your whole body stills.

Baby. He just called you baby.

Eddie uses this moment to his advantage, pouncing on you with a wicked cackle. His hands find your sides, quickly pulling giggle after breathless giggle from you. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot, you squeal and begin to thrash beneath him as he continues to torture you with his fingers.

Your attempts to get him back are futile. Eddie is much faster, taking both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. Both of your chests are rising and falling rapidly from the exertion, your faces mere inches apart.

His curls create a dark curtain around you, his eyes flicking down toward your lips. His minty breath washes over you, causing yours to lodge in your throat. You just stare at each other, both of you fighting the urge to close the remaining distance between your mouths.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat, “Movie time?”

“Movie time,” you agree.

And just like that, the moment is gone as quickly as it came. Eddie clumsily climbs off you, almost falling off the sofa in the process. His curls bounce as he springs back up, offering a hand to help you sit back up.

“Now my fair maiden, what film dost thou choose?”

He holds up both cases, the choice of movie concealed by the large Family Video logo. You purse your lips, glancing back and forth between the cases as if looking at them longer would somehow reveal the title beneath.

“That one.”

You point to the one in his left hand, and Eddie tosses the other back onto the coffee table. He pops open the plastic case and chuckles before looking up at you.

“Texas Chainsaw it is.” He grins, removing the tape from its case and heading toward the TV.

Eddie crouches down, balancing on the soles of his feet as he loads the tape into the VCR. our eyes can’t help but wander across the expanse of his broad shoulders and down his back. The hem of his shirt rides up ever so slightly as he reaches to switch the tv on, exposing the band of his boxer shorts and the pale skin of his lower back.

“However,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at you. His eyes are warm and full of mischief. “You are not leaving this trailer until you get to experience the cinematic masterpiece that is Ridley Scott’s Alien.”

The playful threat has your whole body warming, feeling thankful when he finally switches off the lamp. The darkness of the room is a welcome reprieve with only his silhouette visible, illuminated by the glow from the TV. He bounds back over and takes the seat beside you.

You allow yourself to sink further into the sofa while Eddie grabs something off the side table. The spark of the lighter ignites the handsome features of his face, and the slight stubble along his jaw. His plush lips carefully wrap around the end of the joint, cheeks hollowing slightly as he inhales deeply.

The sight alone sends a delightful shiver up your spine, shifting your gaze back toward the television as the smoke billows out from between his lips.

“Are you cold?” he asks, draping his arm over the back of the sofa in search of the old quilt that was previously thrown over it.

But said quilt had unfortunately fallen behind the sofa in the midst of your scuffle, well beyond his reach now. Eddie leans in closer, cursing softly under his breath as he attempts to locate the missing quilt in the dark. You can feel the warmth radiating from his chest, which causes another shiver to pass through you.

“Maybe a little,” you murmur.

And the male doesn’t complain when you nuzzle yourself further into his side, happily curling his arm around your shoulders. He takes another hit from the joint as the trailers continue to flash across the screen, the upcoming releases now the furthest thing from your mind.

“You want some?” He holds the joint out toward you, blowing some smoke out the corner of his mouth. “No pressure, of course.”

You carefully take it from him, your fingers brushing against his own in the process. Despite your initial reservations, you immediately lift the joint to your lips, feeling his eyes continue to linger on your features. In your nervous haste you inhale a little too quickly, the smoke evading your lungs in sharp fragments that has you immediately coughing it back up.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, killer,” he teases, gently rubbing your back, the touch a welcome distraction. “You gotta inhale slower.”

He takes the joint back from you, keeping it between his fingers while you continue to cough your lungs up. You’re very thankful he can’t see the way your eyes are watering as another cough racks through your chest.

“Have you ever smoked before?” he asks, only curiosity lacing his tone.

“Um, once,” cough. “In the ninth grade when I stole a cigarette out of my aunt’s purse.”

The memory is sparked, causing a smile to tug at the corner of your mouth. Your Aunt Bev had been visiting from Reno for Christmas, like she did every year. The eccentric woman was always decked out in colorful rhinestones and bright blue eyeshadow, spinning wild tales of her nights out on the strip much to the chagrin of your mother.

But you had never seen her without a trusty pack of Camel Turkish Golds.

So when one of your older cousins claimed you were too much of a prissy pants to join in on their smoke session (aka the infamous cousin walk), you took it upon yourself to swipe one from her purse and hoped she wouldn’t notice. But you received the lecture of a lifetime from her when you came back looking guilty and smelling like nicotine.

As you recount the tale back to him, you purposely leave out the part where you almost threw up in a snowbank because you were coughing so hard. No need to subject him to that visual. And while that experience had you swearing off cigarettes for the rest of your life, that didn’t mean you should deny yourself this one…right?

“Well your aunt’s absolutely right you know,” he says after a moment, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “Cigarettes are terrible for you.”

You go to reach for that pillow again, ready to whack him in the head for good measure but Eddie chucks it across the room before you even have a chance to grab it. The pillow narrowingly misses the tv set by an inch, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“Ah, ah ah!” he tuts, wagging a finger in front of your face. “Don’t mess with the mane, sweetheart.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes fondly before turning your attention back to the movie. But Eddie keeps his gaze on you, admiring how the soft glow highlights the features of your face. Your nose, which scrunches up in the cutest way whenever you’re annoyed. Your gentle eyes, that look at him as if he could do no wrong. And your lips—god, your lips. They’re slightly pouted, shiny with spit.

And Eddie's perverted mind can’t help but start to wander. He wonders how your lips would feel wrapped around him, or if those pretty eyes would roll back when he buried his tongue inside you.

Jesus H. Christ, was it getting hotter in here?

Eddie wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, willing all the blood in his body to stop rushing South.

Popping a boner during a horror flick, that’ll really impress her, idiot.

God, he was too sober for this.

The male quickly tears his gaze away from you, picking up the lighter and relighting the forgotten joint. He doesn’t notice your eyes drifting back toward him, like a moth to a flame.

He inhales deeply, allowing the smoke to curl into his lungs and dull his sexually intrusive thoughts. But he feels you staring, your eyes transfixed on where the smoke billows out from between his lips. He glances at the joint, then back at you. Then Eddie gets an idea, an awful, sinful idea.

He whispers your name as the room is bathed in darkness again, giving him the final push he needs.

“I want to try something…” he mumbles, carefully removing your glasses and placing them on the coffee table. “Do you trust me?”

You nod automatically.

“Then come here,” he says, voice hoarse.

And when you crawl into his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips…

Eddie is a goner.

Miraculously, he manages to keep his composure, despite the way his heart is about to leap out of his chest. You’ve never been this close before, where he can feel the warmth of your thighs seeping into his jeans and smell the faint perfume lingering on your neck.

Even in the dark, he can see that flicker of bashfulness cross over your features, that sudden urge to avoid his heated stare. To tuck in on yourself, to hide away. But to his surprise, you hold his gaze, bold and unwavering when one of his hands falls to rest on your hip. He attempts to soothe you, his thumb circling up and under your shirt.

“Inhale slowly, alright?” he gently reminds you.

His other hand brings that joint back to his full lips, the cherry end igniting brightly as he inhales.

Only this time when he lowers the joint, he leans forward. His lips brush against yours until they part beneath his own, the smoke slithering out and into your awaiting mouth. You inhale slowly—just as he instructed and let the smoke curl in and around your lungs.

And when you breathe out, he’s right there, inhaling the dissipating smoke into his own mouth with a proud smile.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Eddie takes another long drag and leans in again, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw. And maybe it’s the look in his eye or the weed beginning to lull your nerves, but you fist the collar of his shirt and pull him into you, crashing your lips together for the second time that evening.

The male barely manages to discard the joint before he’s reeling you back in, tongue gliding over your lower lip and into your awaiting mouth. You taste like Juicy Fruit and a hint of purple palm tree delight, a combination that sets every nerve in his body on fire.

Your fingers wind into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently tugging and earning you a throaty moan. Eddie swears he’s lost it when your sweet moans begin to echo his own. The sound travels straight down, where his cock is straining pathetically against the seam of his jeans.

An uphill battle he’s been fighting since you kissed him in the parking lot of Family Video.

And when you feel that hardness pressing against your inner thigh, it only encourages you to keep going. Giving an experimental roll of your hips that has Eddie’s head lolling back onto the cushions, a choked sound resembling a whine escapes his mouth.

This new position provides you with easier access to his throat, giving you a surge of confidence before your lips find a home there and teeth nip wherever they can find purchase.

Eddie pants as your lips only trail lower, a grunt of your name mixes with a slew of curses when you suck a large bruise onto the base of his throat. Your lips make an audible pop when they detach from his skin and you lean back to assess the damage with a satisfied grin. He looks beautifully wrecked, lips swollen and eyes glossy.

You trace over the blossoming shades of red and purple on his neck with your fingertips, humming softly when you feel a shiver pass through him.

“My turn,” he insists, gently tipping your head back.

When he leans forward, lips brushing against your collarbone, he can almost taste the spiked punch from earlier. A bitter, yet sugary sweet flavor that has him groaning low in his throat. The sound reverberates through your chest and has your hips grinding harder against his own.

The fabric of your panties are completely soaked, making a mess on the front of his jeans with each frantic buck of your hips. His fingers begin to trail lower, sneaking under your skirt and grazing over the elastic of your panties. Feeling emboldened, you take his wrist, pressing the heel of palm against your center.

“Oh shit,” he groans, fingers circling up and over your aching core. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart.”

You can only manage a soft whine in response, allowing him to guide your head back down to capture your lips together.

An abrupt knock sounds just as a blood curdling scream erupts from the television. Both noises pull you apart with a sudden start, which has you nearly falling backwards off his lap and onto the floor below. But Eddie keeps a steady grip on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he huffs out a breath of frustration.

“Pizza’s here.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld @scarlet-bitch @thecreelhouse @vamp-bunny @notwantingtoadult @keeksandgigz @avobabe87 @kellsck @definitionwanderlust @ainelantv @bring-it-on-back

[violetarks]

"they don't love me like you do!"

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

summary: despite the countless valentines day offers he receives, satoru will only ever accept one confession. but you're confessing... to his best friend?

warnings: g/n! reader, they/them pronouns used, high school! au

"please accept these chocolates, gojo!" says the girl in front of him. satoru casually pulls down his glasses enough to see the red, heart-shaped cardboard box.

"oh, uh... thank you." he awkwardly says. this girl was two year below him, judging by the colours of her indoor shoes. he didn't even know her name. "this is... a surprise."

"i've liked you ever since orientation day. i hope you like these." she says with a nervous grin. she's stiff as he takes them out of her hands, standing up straight to stare at the tall man. "thank you for always being so funny and helping everyone you can."

"ah, you're welcome." he says, tucking the chocolates and the letter taped to it under his arm. luckily, the lunch bell had rung and everyone should've been off to enjoy their break. "well, i'll... see you around."

"b—bye, gojo!" she calls, waving at him as he walks the other way. he gives a kind smile before he turns the corner, dropping it immediately.

on the way to class, multiple other students watched him as he carelessly skimmed through the letter before stuffing it in his book bag, ready to throw it (and the others) away once home. valentines day was this week and it was two days before it today. yet satoru had received tons of confession letters and date proposals, none of which he had the intention of accepting.

plopping down in his chair, he groans, hanging his head, "ugh! i hate being so loveable..."

suguru rolls his eyes, outting his book down. "here we go again." he grunts, shaking his head.

"seriously! why can't i be left alone around valentines day?" he questions out lout, pulling his lunch box from his bag.

shoko bites into her sandwich as she listens to him. as she swallows, she retorts, "maybe it's because you flirt with every living being on earth." satoru sends him a pointed look. "so how many letters today?"

"seven." satoru responds, knocking his bag.

"and?"

"none of them were from y/n." he sighs out, picking up his chopsticks.

"wait, y/n?" suguru pipes up, putting his juicebox down, "as in y/n from class d?"

the blue-eyed boy raises a brow, halting his movements. "uh, yeah? l/n y/n." he recalls to his friend, tilting his head, "what? i've been talking about 'em for the past three months—suguru, have you been listening to me at all?"

"oh!" the dark-haired boy chuckles, nodding his head, "i know y/n. we're in the same literature class."

satoru stares at him in disbelief. the other students surrounding them are in their own little world, but the three of them didn't even mind them hearing if they tried. shoko continues to eat her food while suguru shrugs at his friend.

"are you kidding me?" satoru gasps out, waving a hand in the air, "i've been trying to get with them for three months and you tell me this just now?"

"you should've been more specific, man." suguru retorts, waving it off, "anyway, you gonna' ask them to be your valentine?"

satoru sighs loudly, hanging his head back, "i don't know... we only share bio together, i bet there's a lot of people who have asked them to be their valentine. they probably won't even accept mine."

shoko purses her lips and stretches her arms. "i don't know about that." she claims, "you're a pretty guy and everyone knows you. i doubt they'd pass up the chance to revel in that popularity."

"... thanks, shoko."

soon enough, the bell rings and the day goes on.

the next day, satoru notices something in your hand during biology class.

"whatchu' got there, y/n?" he asks, peaking over your shoulder. he sat behind you, enough room to see the handwritten letter you were writing.

"satoru!" you jump a little, covering the page. he furrows his brow. "it's, uh... i'm just writng something."

"is it... for valentines day tomorrow?" he inquires, curious to who was the lucky person. but you were still hiding it from him!

"no, of course not." you were lying, he could tell by the way you look to the left. a pout falls on his lips. "it's notes. for another class."

"oh... okay." he responds, a bit disappointed. why would you lie to him? he sits back in his chair, writing down some paragraphs from the textbook mindlessly. he saw the way your elbow quickly shifted, you were writing faster. your head was down too, never looking up. you were so concentrated.

he's known you for a couple of months now. you bumped into him on the way to school, and you admitted to him that you were a bit lost since you didn't live around here. satoru, being the gentleman he is, offered to escort you. you thought he was some creep (he tried reaching to hold your hand and when you jerked away on instinct, he played it off as it being the wind).

but once realising you two shared some classes together, you grew fond of him. you knew of the countless students throwing themselves at him. both older and younger. he was the school heartthrob. it's a shame though, only your smile could make his heart race like he makes others do.

when you gave him your lucky pen when he told you he didn't study and he was freaking out, you had this kind smile that made him think 'i don't want anyone else to see this but me'.

and he noticed that you awkwardly took it back from him, looking away as he clasped your hands tightly in the filled hallway and thanked you. your reactions were just the cutest...

when the bell rings, you perk up, putting your 'notes' in a suspicious looking envelope and signing it off with something. you stand up and satoru is quick to walk by your side when a classmates holds his arm to talk.

"huh?" satoru grunts, furrowed brows.

"gojo, i... i wanted to give you this." they say, holding out a teddy-bear saying 'be my valentine!'. satoru frowned when he took it. "you don't have to answer today... just let me know tomorrow, please."

as they continue to talk, he sees you exit the classroom. the letter sits comfortably in your palm, and you look left, right, before walking off. satoru is electrified.

"okay, thanks!" he says, running out of the classroom while he clutches the bear in his hands.

weaving through the crowd, he looks for the top of your head. after more and more people pass him, staring at the teddy and whispering 'who gave that to him this time?', he spots you turning the corner, a nervous look on your face. he mutters out apologies as he bumps into people heading to their next class.

the hallway you're in now is empty. you stand in front of a classroom door, waiting. notably, suguru's math class.

satoru stands at the end of the corridor, behind the corner, as the classroom door opens to reveal his best friend, geto suguru.

"suguru!" you call, smile. your shoulders are straightened, you hold the letter in front of you. not scared to show him...

"oh, y/n, hey." he responds, grinning as well. the comfortability around you two was so strange to see. "what's up?"

satoru feels like he's buzzing out. he can't hear everything you're saying, but you look a bit excited yet anxious. he hears your sweet voice speak to his best friend with such kindness that he's jealous. sure, suguru was attactive and nice and he definitely didn't feed into the popularity like satoru did, but...

why did it have to be you who was interested in him?

"please, take this." you say, handing him the same letter you had before. except this time, satoru sees the 'g.s' on it. 'geto suguru'. and you take out a box of his favourite snacks to hand to him. "thank you for everything, again. you're the best."

suguru takes it with ease, seeing how you looked at him. his gaze softens as he takes the treat as well. "you're welcome, y/n. anything you need, i'll help with." he puts the letter in his own bag before slinging am arm around your shoulders. "now, what're your plans for after?"

he was blatantly asking you out now! right after satoru told him he had feelings for you! such betrayal!

you two walk to the other end of the hallway, in the direction of your literature class. satoru slumps against the wall, furrowed brows and lips pressed into a thin line. after a second, he pushes his glasses up and lets out a slow exhale. he could get over this...

"gojo! may i please have a moment of your time?"

"wait no! me first!"

"gojo, can i talk to you?"

"please accept these!"

or maybe he couldn't.

valentines day was today and you danced into school with such confidence. you had a bouquet of flowers in your arms, chocolates of the sweetest kinds, and a bag of new perfume that you knew your crush would like.

you were so excited.

satoru, who was walking a few people behind you, was not.

he saw the amount of passion you put into the holiday, and it made him sick to know it was for his best friend. the guys was in such a bad mood, he ignored suguru and shoko's calls this morning to meet up and walk to school together like usual.

satoru clicked his tongue, thinking about how dramatic the whole valentines day idea was. really, who needed it all anyway?

in homeroom, he can hear your class (which is next to his, across the hall) start whooping and cheering when you walk in. and he knows it's you by the chants of your last name being heard. he sits in his chair in anguish.

"satoru, morning. finally." shoko says, sitting down as well. she grins, bitting the popsicle stick between her lips. "where are all of your valentines presents?"

"stuffed in my shoe locker and under my desk." he claimed, opening the top of it to showcase the blaring red and pink gifts. she picked at one pocky box, munching on the biscuits. "how about you?"

"i got a couple letters and cookies in my locker." she claims, shrugging her shoulders, "lots of 'em are from the badminton team. i don't know why."

satoru shrugs as well as soon as suguru sits down in front of him. the blue-eyed students scoffs, looking away.

"good morning, satoru." he says, noticing his friend's behaviour, "what's got his panties in a twist this morning? does he know we called him a hundred times?"

"i dunno'." shoko says, looking out the window to the school garden. "ask him."

"satoru, what's wrong? didn't get enough presents this year?" he teases, leaning in his chair to poke his head, "wake up late?"

but satoru angrily swats his hand away. the raven-haire boy blinks curiously before satoru glares at him. "why didn't you tell me you were interested in y/n?" he asks, hurt.

shoko looks back to the two boys, seeing suguru just as confused as she is. "you're into y/n?"

"what? no! who said that?" suguru retorts, hands up in defense, "i'm not interested in dating y/n, swear on my life."

"that's a lie!" satoru accuses, pointing a finger against his friend's nose, "shoko, i saw him and y/n all... all... familiar yesterday after period 2! he had his arm around them!"

"suguru..." shoko warns.

"wait wait, that's—you got it all wrong." suguru groans, now understanding. he digs through his bag and pulls out a piece of paper. "here. open it."

satoru pushes away the paper reading 'g.s'. "no way! i'm not reading y/n's love letter to you!"

"ugh! just open it!" suguru grunts, shoving it onto his desk.

satoru begrudgingly takes it and gently opens the letter, not wanting to rip it. once his eyes fall upon the page, he confirms that it's your handwriting.

'thank you for being the sweetest boy to me. i am truly honoured to know such a beautiful person, inside and out.'

satoru wants to barf.

'sitting near you in biology really helped me to understand you, satoru. you're not only a pretty face, but a world-class sweet tooth, a sucker for romantic cliches and a cologne-collector.'

satoru thinks this is the most beautiful thing he's ever read.

he contiues to read, expression changing, letting shoko and suguru understand his thoughts. the girl looks to the other boy, who shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes.

"i'm confused." shoko states, tilting her head.

"y/n isn't confessing to me, they're confessing—"

"y/n is confessing to me! me, satoru!" satoru exclaims, waving the letter around like a maniac. everyone else in the class was suddenly a listener, peaking at the trio. they were interested in finding out what the one confession that resulted in this reaction was. "oh my god, oh my god!"

suguru nods his head. placing a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. "yes, yes, they are. i was meant to give you the letter this morning to read before homeroom, but someone was pissy." he scoffs, shaking his head, "so i had to go and tell y/n that plans had changed."

"you... helped y/n plan this all out?" satoru mumbles, "but you didn't even know!"

shoko chuckles, staring out the window again.

"i just said i wasn't paying attention so you didn't think i was snooping. which i was. and i only told you i knew y/n so you wouldn't get any ideas, like this." suguru circles the air with his finger, deadpanning at the clueless satoru, "you think anyone would do this without definitive proof the other person liked them?"

satoru continues to read the letter you wrote for him before his eyes land on the ending. "'please meet me at the school fountain before homeroom ends.'" he murmurs out, blinking, "suguru—"

"you were meant to go two minutes ago." his friend sings out, standing in front of shoko's desk. he points out the window, much like other students were doing in their own classrooms. "you should..."

when his friends turn around to him, satoru is already one foot out of the door. he's rushing downstairs (down three flights of stairs, actually) with your letter clutched in his hand. he almost flies into a couple teachers on the way to the garden, only for their attention to be caught by students opening the windows and pointing outside.

when he rushed through the doors to the garden, you're staring at the floor, still holding the flowers and gifts you brought to school with you. taking a moment to gather himself, satoru runs fingers through his hair and fixes his glasses. the pair you've complimented a thousand times.

satoru walks closer to you and when he catches your eye, you stand up straight and smile.

"satoru." you chime, not missing the thousand pairs of eyes that were following your every move. "good morning. happy valentines day."

you hold out the flowers to him. it's set in a nice box, and the treats are in a gift bag. when you give it to him, your smile is awkward but hopeful.

"happy valentines day, y/n." he replies, taking it from you. he sits down on the fountain edge, and you follow along. "i'm so sorry, i... i don't have anything for you."

"no, no, no." you retort, grinning, "it's fine. this was a surprise for you, anyway."

he sighs, "no, i'm sorry... please, let me make it up to you."

you laugh a little, placing a hand over his on his lap. the flowers were sat on the fountain with his gifts. "sure thing." you retort, "hey, suguru told me that this morning—"

"i'm sorry, i know, i just thought..." he begins, cutting you off. he looks embarrassed, heavy blush falling over his cheeks. "i saw you and suguru yesterday and you gave him that letter. had me thinkin' you were confessing to him instead of me."

you let out a small chuckle, making him gulp, "oh my goodness, i'm sorry, i didn't mean for you to see that. we were trying to be sneaky."

satoru's chest feels lighter, and he feels better just hearing it from you. he links his fingers with yours, facing you fully.

"ah, no it's fine." he tells you, the most purest form of adoration in his eyes that you can see from the top of his slanted down glasses. you grin softly. "listen, i have had a crush on you for months... and i was hoping that you'd go out with me. i want a chance to get to know you personally, away from any prying eyes."

you peer to the side, seeing the people watching you. they were practically hanging out the window, waving their hands and fighting to view the whole scene for themselves. cameras took photos and videos, capturing your moment with him.

"i'd love that, satoru." you say, scanning his face, "you're the best."

it only takes him a single second to reach his hand out and brush his thumb agaisnt your cheek. you don't freeze up though, only relaxing into him. he was the most inviting guy you've ever met.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, voice unwavering. his blue eyes are staring at your face with such kindness that it cannot be described.

you don't even say anything, only leaaning forward and pressing your lips to his. he's smiling against your lips, gentle hand caressing your cheek. your eyes flutter shut, holding his hand tightly.

cheers erupt from the school. screams and whoops from guys and girls alike. most students are heartbroken due to the obvious confession. nobody had even gotten that close to satoru. no one has been able to hold his hand, let alone get him to go crazy over a letter. you got him to race out of that classroom like a madman, and everyone was surely surprised.

the shouts die down as the kiss deescalates, many of the students sighing as they're forced to move on from the heart-throb gojo satoru.

when you pull away, satoru chases, leaving a gentle kiss against your forehead. your smile is wide and you pinch his cheek softly.

"you're such a drama queen, satoru." you say, standing up, "i was wondering why everyone started yelling and staring at me all of a sudden."

satoru stands with his presents, rubbing the back of his neck as he holds your hand. h goes to answer when a voice is heard from the fourth floor.

"the idiot took some convincing, y/n!" suguru shouts, waving his hand, "glad to know he's got some sense in him!"

"shut up, suguru!" satoru calls back, showing his fist.

"first period is about to start, you two!" the principle says through a window on the third floor, "this is all heart-warming, but you've failed two of ms kinoshita's classes, gojo!"

"r—right!" he retorts, pacing to the school entrance as people begin to 'ooh' at him. he looks back at you, smiling the brightest. "let's go out after school today, yeah? i'll buy you as many sweets as you want."

you chuckle, kissing his cheek, "my hero."

[mutalune]

HELLO i see your fic status page but throw me a rope is not on it so I am politely entering your inbox to ask if continuing it may possibly be in the cards. i have read it in full twice in the last two weeks. send help. NO PRESSURE OFC thank you for what is there i love it and you have done my heart good by making it exist.

hi!!! Thank you so much for enjoying my fic and reading it, I’ll send the coastguard if you ever get to “I read it once a day” levels 😎👉🏻👉🏻

now onto the slightly sad news: I don’t foresee me ever finishing tmagr. I tend to enter and exit fandoms in a super cyclical way, and some of them are recurring/annual/bi-annual/etc., and some of them end up having a temporary place in my life. BNHA/MHA seems to have been a temporary one, because I never really fell in love with it again the way I fell in love with it the first time when I started writing tmagr back in 2020.

Onto the slightly good news: I have a few chapters ready that I never posted, and did have a ton of notes on my plans for tmagr, and I am planning on posting all of that sometime in the future so folks will have at least a somewhat-finished product. I gotta clean them up and get them readable and then hype myself up to probs disappoint a lot of ppl by posting said notes rather than Actual Content, and I also have some pretty serious shit I’m dealing with that taxes my energy a ton, so I don’t make any promises for that happening any time soon - but while I’ve had eternal WIPs plenty of times before, it bugs me that I left tmagr in the place that I did and I know I want those damn notes posted for everyone who said such nice things about tmagr and enjoyed it so much and always made my day when I saw comments/etc. on it

So! Thank you for messaging me, sorry for taking awhile to get to it, thank you for reading and enjoying, and hopefully I’ll get those last few chapters and the notes posted sometime relatively soon to give everyone a bit of closure~

[bookloover35]

Loki X fem reader-100 roses.

Yns Pov:

Mobius: Yn there is a bouquet of roses on your desk again.

Ah not in again I said very loudly and very annoyed and walked over to my desk and picked up the bouquet of exactly one hundred roses and read the note out loud so he could hear too.

The Note.

Dear Yn.

Please baby we need to talk.

I'm so sorry, I miss you please can we meet?

Loki.

Oh he is sorry here is a big tip if you don't want anything to be sorry about don't cheat on your girlfriend or lie to her.

This happened four weeks ago and every day after I threw him out of my home he always sent a bouquet of a hundred roses and a note.

And every single time I've always thrown them in the bin, but right now I don't know what to do I still love him, I want him back but in a way I don't want him back.

Mobius: When are you going to talk to him, in the notes he writes how much he regrets what he has done.

And he is Loki he usually never regrets.

Yn: Ugh my heart tells me to take him back you love him but my head says throw him away he cheated on you and he lied to you.

Ahhhhh i hate when love has to be so complicated.

Mobius: I think I have a solution to your problems.

Yn: How do you mean?

Mobius: I don't understand that I have to play love doctor for you and the god of mischief.

But if you really want him back then you should do this write him a letter where you write and explain to him that you are still very angry with him but that you are still willing to give him another chance but then he has to  prove that he regrets everything.

Yn: As much as I hate you when you're right, you actually have a very big point.

I really want that cheering idiot back I love him but he needs to prove it and not just through tons of roses and little notes.

Thank you Mobius.

I told him and gave him a kiss on his cheek and then I picked up the bouquet and started running to my house, writing down all my feelings in a letter can't be that hard.

TS

Okay two hours later and three cups of iced coffee and I'm done now there's only two things to do put the letter in an envelope and send it off.

I held up the letter and read it through to double check that I was completely satisfied.

The letter.

Loki, I'm still very angry at you for what you've done, but no matter how hard I try to hate you, I can't stop thinking about you and I can't stop loving you.

But I'm willing to try to give you another chance, but then you have to prove it and not through a lot of roses and notes but like I said I'm willing to talk to you.

Meet me at the fountain in our favorite park, you know which one.

A quarter past eight.

Yn.

To be continued.................

The End.

[likecastle]

Ronance Femslash February - postmarked for January

Thank you again to @marbledswissroll for the prompt “postmarked for january.” I tweaked the wording a little because I couldn’t quite work it in as it was originally phrased, but hopefully it’s close enough!

I’m accepting Ronance prompts all month for Femslash February. I have a few more prompts in my inbox, but I’ve still need a few more to get me through the end of the month, so please send them my way! Anon asks are totally fine, and you’re welcome to send more than one prompt. Don’t be shy! You can find previous prompts I’ve filled here.

Robin is putting up a flyer for the marching band fundraiser when Nancy Wheeler walks into the post office, carrying a manila envelope so carefully it might as well be the Declaration of Independence. For a minute Robin thinks they’re both going to do what they usually do when they cross paths at school, and pretend they didn’t throw a metric ton of fireworks at a monster made of liquefied people last summer, but Nancy meets her eye with a tentative smile, and Robin realizes she must want an audience for this momentous occasion.

“College application?” Robin asks, and this conversation already feels like an uphill battle. She should have just pretended not to see Nancy, or faked amnesia, or something.

“Yeah,” Nancy says, with a little shrug that Robin’s sure is supposed to seem modest, but she can tell Nancy is pleased with herself.

“Got your heart set on someplace special?” she asks, because she knows Nancy wants her to ask.

“Emerson,” Nancy says, with more starry-eyed enthusiasm than she’s ever said her actual boyfriend’s name. “My mom and I did a bunch of campus visits in September, and I just fell in love. I sort of thought I’d go to NYU, maybe Northwestern as a backup, but after I sat in on a class at Emerson, I couldn’t imagine going anywhere else. And hopefully I can get an internship at the Globe, or—” She pauses, looking charmingly chagrinned, though Robin notices that her hands are clenched tight around the corners of the envelope. “Sorry, I’m rambling.” She gives another one of those sweetly self-effacing shrugs. “Are you . . . applying anywhere?”

Robin tries not to read too much into the question, because if she did, she’d have to hear the implication that Nancy isn’t sure if Robin’s cut out for college, despite the fact that they have AP English and French Club and Trig together. Or maybe she just doesn’t think Robin’s family can afford to send her to school—which is a lot closer to the truth. She’ll be holding her breath about scholarships until April. “Just IU,” she says. “But not early decision, so the application doesn’t have to be postmarked til January.”

Nancy’s eyes widen, and if Robin didn’t know better, she’d say Nancy looks worried on her behalf. “You don’t think you should apply to a couple more schools, just in case? Not,” she adds quickly, “that I think you won’t get in, it’s just . . .”

Robin shrugs, trying for a carelessness she doesn’t really feel. “If I don’t get in, I’ll just use the money I’ve been saving for tuition on a trip across Europe. Just, you know, stay in hostels and sleep on people’s couches until my funds run out. I mean, I might do that even if I do get in.”

“Oh,” Nancy says, and her cheeks, Robin thinks, are faintly pink—from shock at Robin’s cavalier attitude, no doubt. She expects to get another little lecture about responsible choices, but what Nancy says is, “That, um . . . sounds nice.”

“Who knows,” Robin adds with a grin, “maybe I’ll bring Steve with me to be my chauffeur. Oh my god, he’d get so pissy about European traffic, don’t you think?”

“Right.” Nancy’s expression is tight, and Robin realizes too late that she’s crossed some line she shouldn’t have. “Well, I should—get this in the mail.” Nancy gestures toward the counter with the envelope, which is significantly bent at the edges now. “I’ll, um—good luck. With your application.”

“You, too,” Robin says, but Nancy is already turning away.

Robin tries to imagine it—Nancy walking with an armful of books across some perfectly-groomed campus green. Robin’s never been to Boston—never been anywhere, really—but she imagines brick buildings covered with ivy, students with sweaters tied over their shoulders talking about spending their summer vacation at Martha’s Vineyard, wherever that is. It doesn’t fill her with jealousy, exactly. It’s not what she wants for herself, but she does envy Nancy that her future seems so clear. She’s a star student applying early decision to the school of her dreams, and Robin wonders what it must feel like to be sure that she’ll get in, that she’ll be able to afford it, that she’ll get everything she wants.

[fakeagatha]

in a car trip to somewhere, Agatha takes you to eat ice cream on McDonald's to shut you up because you were being annoying (just like the Donkey in Shrek asking "are we there yet?" nonstop yk?)

I'm not the most creative person but i wanted to send a request to you anyway, sorry 💗

A/n: I didn't expect to have finished one of my requests so soon, but I did it🌚

Please tell me if you spot any grammatical errors!

I Wouldn't Have It Any Other Way | Agatha Harkness x Reader

Summary: Agatha takes you on a road trip, but you got bored, so she shuts you up with ice cream.

Words: 543

_________________________________________

It was any other average day in Westview, nothing special happening, until your girlfriend, Agatha Harkness, had decided to take you on a road trip.

Of course Agatha was able to leave the hex as she wasn't under Wanda's spell, which the redhead wasn't actually aware of yet. Neither were you under her spell, as you and Agatha had met before Westview, so you are both playing your roles in Wanda's fantasy.

You and Agatha didn't have anything better to do, so you grabbed a shit ton of snacks and random things before entering her car.

"Right, do you really need to bring your ring light? We'll be back by tomorrow Y/n, we're only staying one night at the hotel." Agatha commented.

"You never know if we might need it! It's just a precaution." You responded, throwing everything into the backseat.

She simply chuckled and started the engine as you put your seatbelt on while reversing out of the driveway.

As soon as she got onto the road, she turned on the radio and you started singing as loud as you possibly could.

"Oh my God!" Agatha whined, covering her ear that was facing you.

"Come on Aggie, sing with me!" You chimed, taking her free hand in yours.

She rolled her eyes, before giving in and starting to mumble the lyrics along with you.

You grinned at her, bouncing around in your seat as you sang your heart out, and it didn't take long for Agatha to start singing louder as well, before your throats started to hurt so you stopped.

"How long do we have left?" You asked the witch after a while, groaning.

"Sweetheart, we've been on the road for half an hour," She chuckled, "We've still got a couple of hours."

You leaned back into the seat, looking outside as you watched the scenery go by.

Not even five minutes later, you asked again,

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

You sighed, then, not even two minutes later,

"Almost there?"

Agatha pursed her lips, "If I take you to get ice cream, will you stop asking me that?" She looked over at you, smirking.

You quickly nodded, and she pulled into the next McDonald's she saw.

She poked her head out of the window and spoke into the machine, "I'd like two vanilla ice creams, one with strawberry syrup, thanks."

You smiled cheekily at her and she playfully rolled her eyes at you as you got to the window, and you both got your ice creams.

As she left the McDonald's driveway, you gasped.

"I forgot to ask for lemonade..."

She glared at you, and turned the car around to go back to the drive thru.

"Thank you..." You grinned at her.

"You're lucky I love you." She deadpanned, but with a hint of adoration in her eyes.

After getting your lemonade, she started driving on the highway again, trying to eat her ice cream at the same time as steering the wheel and changing the gear.

"Want me to feed you?" You asked her, and she nodded with a laugh.

That may have resulted with ice cream all over your faces and car seats, somehow on the roof as well, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

[sweetmusingss]

Charles loved hearing you speak French back to him, completely impressive to hear you speaking it so fluently and so well when you had an American accent as you were speaking English. It was fun to have someone around that he could speak French to besides Pierre or his family. “Ton amie parle beaucoup de toi. J'ai entendu dire que ta couleur préférée était le rose, même si je dois dire que tu es superbe en noir…,” he says, taking in your appearance again.

Oscar shook his head a bit when hearing what Lando said. “I think Charles beat me to it. It doesn’t really look like they want to be interrupted,” he said. He wasn’t keen on the idea of going over there and embarrassing himself by introducing himself to you. Despite the fact that he was a F1 driver, he wasn’t incredibly confident when it came to chatting up women. If he was going to go over there, it would have to be because Lando dragged him over to you.

I roll my eyes a bit at his obvious flirting, getting the sense that he was into the whole playing hard to get thing and some back and forth. He was very good at flirting, and even if he wasn’t, with a face like that he’d still probably win over anyone’s heart. “Merci... le rose est mon préféré, mais ma valise ne peut contenir qu'un nombre limité de robes.” I giggle, stepping closer to him, ignoring how Katie and Max were both looking at us and whispering to one another, figuring they had this planned and I was going to send them a thank you basket in the morning if this night went the way I wanted. “J'ai failli porter une robe rouge... vous savez, comme on est en Italie, il faut représenter la bonne équipe.”

Lando frowned a bit and looked over at us again, seeing that Charles was definitely laying it on thick. Lando knew this would be tricky, Oscar was stubborn and shy and getting him to open up and be a bit more confident was going to be difficult. But he also suspected that I would like the shyness, and I’d be the one to get Oscar out of his comfort zone a bit more. “She’ll get sick of him eventually, the pretty face only works for so long. Let's get you a drink!” Lando knew plying Oscar with alcohol would help the situation, ordering them a round of shots and ignoring Oscar’s frown before shoving the shot glass into his hand. “I got P2 today so this is in honor of me, okay? Drink!”

__

I giggle softly as I throw my arms back around your neck, squealing with delight as you picked me up. “It’s okay, I am used to you making me wet,” I say, loving that you endured my dirty sense of humor. I kiss lightly all over your face before catching your lips in a kiss again, especially since there weren’t cameras around at the moment. “I am so so so proud of you, baby. There was nothing hotter than getting to watch you overtake like that and dominate out there. I am going to remember this race and this day forever,” I say, feeling way more happy in this moment than I ever did about my own career accomplishments. I hug you tightly, not wanting to let you go. 

Max laughed at your dirty joke, kissing you back as you kissed him, unable to stop smiling even for a moment. “I am not usually proud of myself but I really fucking killed it out there... even in those conditions, I fucking killed it!” Max never really complimented himself or gave himself any praise, but he was actually proud of himself today. He did so fucking well and he just proved to everyone that he didn’t lose his talent or go soft or any of that, he was just lying in wait until he could pounce and demolish everyone like he did today. “I always say that I am good in the wet but that was taken to a whole new level today... I never went off track once! Not one time!” he felt like a little kid on Christmas, he was so overly happy and excited, smiling down at you, his eyes crinkly as he did.

[writingjourney]

ziplocked love pt. 2 | dew x fem!reader

Summary: Dewdrop is away on tour and you’re struggling more than you care to admit to him.

Content: 4k words, fluff, a bit of angst, smut (18+ only, facetime sex, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, nudes), more soft dew, more banter, aether being a cutie

Part 1 | Part 2| Part 3 | Part 4 | Ao3 link

Again, this is 18+ only because it contains explicit content. I am already preparing for this to vastly underperform xD Thanks to everyone for your help with the donuts! Hope you enjoy!

⸻

Summary: Dew is away on tour and you’re struggling more than you care to admit to him.

One big advantage of living in the ghoul’s den is that they have their own kettle. You don’t need to walk all the way to the kitchens for the comforts of a late night tea. Instead all you have to do is carry your mug from the kitchen area down the hall to Dew’s bedroom, lock the door and settle into your pile of blankets. The tea doesn’t warm you up quite as well as your boyfriend does, but the options are limited and you take what you can get.

Your phone buzzes right when you take the first sip.

S: Send me a hot pic to keep me going ‘til I’m alone later, baby.🍑 

You  smile at your screen and contemplate Dew’s request, staring at the peach emoji he added. You could just do it or… No. You end up sending a pic of your steaming tea mug instead.

Y: Like this?

D: Haha.

Y: Have to be more specific.

He doesn’t reply for another five minutes. The ritual starts soon and with the time difference, it’s getting late for you. While waiting, you try to snap a seductive picture of your baby blue panties. You’re wearing Dew’s shirt with a big inverted pentagram on it but his smell has already faded and even though his room does still smell like him, it feels like you’re taking over more and more. He’s only gone for a month but time stretches so long these days.

D: Skin, baby. Please.

You send him one of the pics you just took, your hip only covered by the tiny panties, the hem of the shirt visible at the edge right where your belly starts. Y: Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.

D: Cute.

You frown at the screen. Y: That’s all I get?

D: Babe, if you want more you have to send more.

Y: And what do I get?

D: Compliments.

Y: Nah, thanks. I know I’m hot.

You think you got him, watch the three dots on the screen blinking, then stopping, then blinking again. He’s probably speechless now, used to you revelling in his praise, maybe you can even get him to beg. But no. You lose the game, the dots disappear. Never gamble with a demon. 

You startle when the device starts vibrating a second later. As always, his picture lighting up your screen makes your heart flutter. You saved him under Little Menace after you learned that he saved you under Little Minx. Seeing the name always makes you smile.

„Hey, handsome,“ you say. „Calling to beg?“

Dew scoffs. „Calling to hear your voice since you won’t give me anything else.“

„Aw, I love you, too.“

„Babe,“ he warns.

„What?“

„Is it so bad that I miss your body?“

You chuckle. „No, but you already have a ton of nudes.“

„I need new ones every day, you can’t expect me to be happy with the one hundred and fifty-three that I have!“ He sighs when you don’t answer. „You just love being mean to me. Letting me starve.“

„I do. Because you’re cute when you get desperate.“

„All I heard was I’m cute and I agree.“ He hums, a happy drawn-out sound that makes you smile. „Okay, I have a proposal. You send me a pic. A really good pic. And later, when I use it, I’m recording that for you.“

„I’m listening.“

„What, that’s not enough?“

„No, I have a bunch of nut vids of you. And I’ll be asleep by then. Where’s the excitement?“

You’re teasing him. Of course it’s enough, of course you’re happy with any crumb he throws your way. He often sends you pictures of himself in front of the venues they’re performing at or just random things he finds interesting and you eat it all up. Last week he sent you a pic of some random person’s cat, saying it reminded him of you, and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face for hours.

„How about I add some extra pictures? Come on, you’re getting a video and a bunch of pics for just one nude. Great deal, if you ask me.“

You can’t help but chuckle. „Hmmmm. Alright, I think that’s okay.“

„You’re messing with me. You know fully well that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger, you little minx.“

„You’re just very horny,“ you say, smirking at the use of the nickname. „Making deals while horny is never a good idea, baby. Shouldn’t you know that, as a student of the infernal dealmaker?“

„I do know that but you left me no choice.“ He pauses and you wish you could see him. „Wait a sec. How the hell did you manage to trick me when I’m the one who’s supposed to trick humans?“ You hear shuffling on his side, a door, voices. „Fuck, I need to get ready. I love you, baby. And send the fucking pic, I swear it’s urgent.“

With that he’s gone and you let out a sigh of disappointment, the sudden quiet surrounding you like a heavy fog. You’d sell your soul to have him here. But then again you kind of already sold it, agreeing to a romantic relationship with a demonic creature. It’s all fun and games up until the moment you realise they’re not human, that their emotions, their whole minds work in mysterious ways you don’t always understand.

You snap Dew the picture he wanted, trying to bury the doubts, six feet under. He misses you, you know it. Of course what he misses most is touching you because that’s the one thing you can’t do over phones, but it’s not like your body is the only thing he misses, right? 

Unless ghouls don’t feel like that. They are eternal creatures, forged in the ever-burning fires of hell. What’s a few earthly months to them? And he has so many distractions, he has no time to properly miss you.

The thought stings more than it should. It’s not his fault. You know who you’re in love with and he does the best he can. You know he’s already way out of his comfort zone, being committed to you, why can’t you stop wanting more?

After sending him a better photo, you change into sweatpants and a hoodie. No point in looking sexy now and it’s cold in the ghoul’s den, your tea already lukewarm. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that you’re sleeping in Dew’s room, snide comments by Siblings and hushed whispers when you come up the stairs a daily occurrence. But no one has stopped you yet and so you continue to wrap his blankets around you, bury your face in his pillow until you’re close to suffocating.

Even now, you sometimes find one of his silky long hairs in bed or wake up with one of his blond lashes stuck to your cheek. Missing him always feels hardest in those tiny moments – pulling a new shirts out for you to wear and remembering the last time he wore it. Passing by one of the spots in the abbey that he kissed you in. Or fucked you in. Sometimes he just stops you in the hallway to nibble at your neck and tell you he loves you. And you half expect him to do it before remembering that he’s gone. Because he is gone and yet he’s everywhere. Walking around the abbey feels heavy now, the echos of these moments following your every step.

You close your eyes, reminding yourself that in two weeks you’re going to fly out to see him. You can only visit for a few days and then he’ll be gone for another month. But it’s better than nothing, it’s better than whatever this here is.

You’re not sure when your basic bodily functions became dependent on someone else. 

Okay, that is dramatic. You know you can live without Dew, you don’t really need him for survival.

But ever since he left, you sleep like shit. 

There is just something about the empty bed that depresses you. It’s not even the lack of sex, even though him tiring you out most days probably does help, but you’re pretty sure it’s being alone with your thoughts that wakes your insomnia again. Before Dew, these nights were frequent. You’ve gotten used to discussing your days with him, receiving his comfort and undivided attention, clearing your head before it hit the pillow.

Now, you’re just alone with yourself again. 

The longer he’s gone, the more sleep-deprived you are. It doesn’t help that you’re on kitchen duty all week, getting up at five a.m. to help with breakfast and then nearly falling asleep during Morning Mass a few hours later. The same exhausting rhythm every day, slowly grinding you like wheat in a mill, until you’re nothing but dust.

When Dew finally FaceTimes you on their day off on Thursday with a five hour time difference you’re knackered and emotionally drained. For him, it’s still a young evening. For you, it’s midnight on day four of this agonising cycle.

You answer with a forced smile that turns into a genuine one once you see his face. „Hey, baby.“

„Hey, babe.“ He’s lying in a hotel bed, white pillow propped up behind him. „You look so beautiful.“

„Thanks.“ He’s either lying or the dim light in his room hides the bags under your eyes. But you take it nonetheless, any kind word welcome. „You look really handsome, too.“

„I’ve been thinking about you so much today.“ He sighs dramatically. „See, we were at this donut place and they had all your favorites. It felt wrong not to get you anything.“

You hum. „Sounds great. What’d you get?“

„Thought about getting Boston Cream but then they had Red Velvet, so I couldn’t not get that. I mean, it was red.“

„Why am I not surprised?“

„Aw, baby you know I like stuffing my mouth with sweet red things.“

You can’t fight the smirk. „Was it good?“

„It was incredible but nothing compared to your taste,“ he says. „Which is also something I’ve been thinking about all day.“

„Are you alone?“ 

The inquiry is stupid. Literally any of the other ghouls would have been heard snickering or crudely commenting by now. But for some reason the question alone feels seductive.

„Yea, Aeth is over at Rain’s for an hour or so. We’re all by ourselves.“

An hour is good. You can muster enough energy for that.

„How about you show me what’s under that black t-shirt, then?“ you ask.

„Will you show me what’s under yours?“

„Trying to bargain again?“

Dew smirks. „Always.“

You both shed your layers until you’re completely bare and it’s exciting to watch it only via small frames, tiny glimpses, to hear the shuffling but not see all of it just yet. You catch a pierced nipple, a stretch of bare, charcoal skin, the beginnings of his happy trail, slender muscles and boney joints, his hair spilling over his shoulders, until he’s done and holding you up to his face. You can tell he’s flushed, not only horny but properly turned on, ready to do the nasty things you’ve been dreaming of ever since your last phone date. You wish you were more awake, more in tune with yourself.

„You’re so beautiful,“ you say. „I miss touching all of this.“

He smirks. „Me too. Show me more of you, baby.“

You know he wants to see your breasts, they’re pretty much already in frame anyway, and you squeeze your arms together to push them up some more. Dew gives an appreciative hum, followed by a wistful sigh.

„Touch your nipples for me,“ he says. „I want to see them perk up. Like they do when I blow on them.“

You do as he says, moving your fingers over your breasts, circling your areola, squeezing, then rolling your nipple between two fingers, all while watching over the screen how he starts stroking himself. He’s hard and beautiful, veiny and slick with his own spit. It really gets you going to watch him, even though you hate that you don’t get to touch him in any way. He’s already leaking, the skin of his boney fingers glistening wetly. You lick your lips, trying to conjure up his taste, to imagine his hands touching you right now. For a second you close your eyes and it’s almost real. You run a tentative hand down your belly, finding your pussy dripping, waiting, aching for him.

„I’m so wet, baby.“ You whimper when you brush your clit. „So, so wet.“

„Show me.“

It always takes you a while to get comfortable wielding around your phone, to stop worrying about the camera angle or if it looks weird in any way. In the dim lighting, your curves look soft, your skin ashen, almost like it’s dressed in shadows, and you hope it translates. When you move the camera between your legs and play with your arousal, Dew groans.

„Fuck, I can’t believe I don’t get to taste this,“ he says. „I would kill a man to eat you out right now.“

You smile, mostly because you know he’s not exaggerating. But at the same time, you’re aching for his cock far more than for his mouth, mostly because you really need his lips on yours. You want his whole body surrounding you when his tongue pushes past your lips. The lack of kissing during phone sex is infuriating.

„Babe, I can’t see you,“ you complain. He gets sloppy when he’s focused on you.

„Right, sorry.“ 

He readjusts the camera. „Better?“

„Yea.“

„You think you can show me if you’re ready for me?“

It’s easy to imagine he’s sprawled out beside you, giving you orders to touch yourself before he does. You’ve done that before. So you slowly push a finger inside of you, testing the waters before you add a second one. „So ready,“ you say. „Please.“

He curses but you can’t keep your eyes open. It’s painful to know he’s not gonna do it for you, no matter how much you’re begging. You pump your fingers into your dripping cunt but they’re not as long as his, not as nimble. And they certainly don’t stretch you like his cock does.

„Doing so good, baby. I know you’d take me so well.“ His voice is strained, you know he’s pretty far along, his hand moving faster now, rhythmic, obscene sounds coming out of your speakers. They’re not as clear, not as melodious, muffled by the microphone.

Nevertheless they have the same effect on you. „Mhm, Dew.“

„Keep going,“ he says, groaning as his hand moves over his length. You only vaguely register what he’s doing, too busy with yourself. You wish you had your second hand to touch your breasts or even better, to squeeze your throat like he does. It’s not enough stimulation, not enough to drown out your thoughts, the white noise buzzing in your brain, making it hard to let go.

„You have to keep talking,“ you say, knowing it’s the only way you’re gonna come. „Please.“

„Fuck, you just have to imagine it’s me. I’d fuck you so good, you’d scream down the whole abbey.“ Another groan, faster sounds. „You’re doing so well, baby. I can see how much you want me, keep giving me those pretty noises. Make yourself feel good for me, huh. So damn good. Shit, that’s my girl, my good. fucking. girl.“

You tumble over the edge when you hear Dew’s unrestrained moans and whimpers mixing with your own, the slick sounds of his hand spreading his seed over his length as he rides out his orgasm. His groans fill your ears as you press your fingers into your spongy walls, trying to reach higher. It’s intense, despite the lack of body contact, and you feel your heart clenching in your chest. It’s pleasure mixed with a range of other sensations you can’t quite place. Already you can feel your emotions whirling around, thoughts becoming muddled again. You fight back, to cling to sweet oblivion for a while longer, but you’re too vulnerable right now and it takes all the restraint you can muster to bite back a physical reaction. All you want to do is cry like a baby, to let it all spill out.

But Dew is still there, he can’t know.

„Fuck that was so much better than the fucking donut.“ You hear a few more deep breaths. „Aight, baby, I’m just gonna clean up and get dressed before Aether comes back.“

He’s gone then, camera facing the white hotel ceiling as you vaguely hear running water in the background. It allows you to let out the sob you’ve been holding in and the tears fall on their own accord. Your body is sensitive, you’re stripped bare not only physically. You put the phone away, face down so he can’t see you weeping but the quiet only lasts a few seconds.

Because of course he can still hear.

„Are you crying?“ he asks, shuffling back onto the bed.

You fight another sob. „No.“

„Baby, show me your pretty face.“

„No.“

„Hey, don’t shut me out.“

His velvety soft tone makes you pick the phone back up, pouting into the camera as you try to fight back more tears. There is no way you can get rid of the grimace on your face but he doesn’t show it; his face is scrunched up, brows knit together in concern. He’s wearing a black t-shirt now and you miss seeing his bare chest.

„What’s wrong?“ His voice drips with worry. „Baby, tell me.“

„I’m sorry.“ You sniffle. „I’m so sorry, I ruined it.“ 

„No, no, it’s fine.“

„I don’t know what’s wrong with me.“

„That’s okay, it’s all too much, huh?“

All you can muster is a weak nod, closing your eyes to fight the approaching headache.

„What can I do to make it better?“ Dew asks.

Come home. 

But you know the request is unfair and you don’t really want him to. You know he loves touring, he’s having the time of his life based on what you see in all the videos and you want him to soak up all of it. You’re just being selfish, codependent and clingy. And you don’t want to be selfish, codependent and clingy. You want to give him the space he deserves.

„Nothing,“ you say. „I can handle it.“

„You’ve been a bit off for a while now but I figured you’d tell me if something was wrong,“ Dew says. „You trust me, right?“

„I don’t know what you mean. Of course I trust you.“

He ignores you. „Is it just missing me? Or something else?“ 

You frown. Just missing him. For some reason this feels like the wrong answer. Just missing him. He’s obviously doing so much better than you.

 You swallow, the lump in your throat making it painful. „You know orgasms make me emotional.“

„Baby, this is not that and we both know it.“

He gives you a minute to search for an answer which is fair and very unlike him and his impulsive nature. You appreciate his patience and to see his handsome face so full of concern eases your worries. He’s trying so hard for you. You don’t need to hide.

„I sleep really bad,“ you admit, looking away. „And yea, I really fucking miss you.“

„You’ll be here soon, though. In a week.“

„Yea.“

„You can do it, right?“

„Yea, I’ll manage. I can handle it,“ you say, barely hiding your irritation. „I told you.“

„Hey, don’t be snappy.“

You look back into the camera. His face is surprisingly soft, not upset like you expected. He looks beautiful with his hair slightly messy like that, eyes still glinting with that post-orgasmic bliss.

„I miss you, too. You know that, right?“

„Yes.“

„And I can’t wait to see you.“

„Mhm.“

He scoffs. „I can’t wait to see you too, Dew,“ he says in a high-pitched voice, a poor imitation of yours. „I love you sooo much.“

Despite yourself, you smile. „Idiot. I don’t sound like that.“

„Look, there’s my baby.“ He smiles. „So fucking pretty.“

His words cement the happy expression on your face. It feels good to hear him say it, feels good to have him cheer you up. His virtual comfort is a bandaid that’ll carry you over the next week. Seeing him will be a proper remedy.

„I guess I’m just really tired,“ you say in defeat. „I’ve been on kitchen duty all week which means getting up at five and then I can’t sleep until three most nights.“

„You’re running on two hours of sleep?“

„That’s being generous, yea.“

„Now I’m not surprised you randomly start crying,“ he says. „I would have most likely killed someone by now.“

You giggle. „Oh, yea, you would’ve.“

A door opens and Dew groans in annoyance.

„Heeeeey,“ you hear Aether calling. „You decent?“

Dew rolls his eyes. „No.“

„You are, you liar.“

Aether comes into frame, plopping down behind Dew and pulling him close to his chest, saying your name. „Hi.“

„Hi, Aeth.“

„You look pretty,“ he says.

„Stop staring at her boobs,“ Dew says. „Baby get a shirt. He’s ogling you.“

You roll your eyes and put the phone to the side, slipping into the shirt from earlier. „I don’t know why you care, he saw me so many times by now.“

„Only because he doesn’t know what knocking is.“

„Hey, if you don’t lock the door that’s like an invitation,“ Aether says. „Besides, your girlfriend loves when I come over to cuddle at night because then she can finally be someone’s little spoon.“

„What are you talking about? She loves being the big spoon. Don’t you, baby?“

You grin. „I love both.“

Dew makes a face while Aether’s smile widens. He squeezes Dew to his chest, engulfing him in a hug that is so tight he almost drops the phone. „You are very small spoon shaped,“ Aether says. „I get it.“

„Fuck you,“ Dew replies.

„Wish I could squeeze myself in there,“ you say with a sad smile.

Dew’s eyes find yours over the display and he gives you a knowing look, aware of your pain, but Aether doesn’t seem bothered.

„If you want something to cuddle with you can take my huge banana plushie, that’s basically Dew’s size anyway,“ he offers, then snickers. „Well, the size of his body.“

Dew makes to complain but you interrupt him. „Thanks, that’s a nice idea. Hey, if you two are tired, we can just say goodnight.“

„No, we’re not tired,“ Dew exclaims. „It’s only eight.“

„I am tired,“ Aether says.

„Not my problem.“

„It’s okay,“ you say. „I can just…“

„No, I want to fall asleep with you.“ Dew awkwardly wriggles free from Aether’s grasp. „Or watch you fall asleep at least. Would that help with your sleeping issues?“

„Maybe.“

„She has sleeping issues?“ Aether asks.

„Stop listening in,“ Dew chides. „This is a private conversation. Private. Do you want me to spell it out?“

„It’s not private. We’re in the same room. I can’t not hear you.“

„Try harder?“

While they bicker, you put the phone away, clean yourself with a tissue and finally pull the covers over your shivering body. Then you prop the phone up on Dew’s pillow. After a few tries you get it to stand so you don’t have to hold it anymore. It takes a few more minutes until Dew has his bed for himself again and you see his face.

„Want to try and sleep?“ he asks. „I’ll just… hang around until you do.“

„You don’t have to.“

„I don’t want you to fall asleep alone and sad. So, yea I have to.“

You reluctantly nod and close your eyes. You are tired, or at least your muscles are, getting heavier by the second. You’re almost asleep when you hear his voice again, a whisper that gives you goosebumps.

„Hey, baby? I love you.“

You smile. „I love you, too.“

Somewhere in the background you hear Aether call over the buzz of a toothbrush. „I love you, too!“

⸻

I hope this was at least a little bit of what you wanted it to be because ngl I don't do well with the pressure of expectations. I can see myself writing a part 3 with a reunion, so lmk if you'd want that. Prequel is in the works, too. Feedback is as always much appreciated and a big motivation for any writer, remember this is not the clock app and we're real people. Have a nice day friends and thanks for reading!

Part 3 here

[springdandelixn]

Behind Closed Doors - Part IV

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41825796/chapters/106445373

Roommate!Loki x Reader / Steve x Reader

Summary: You and your roommate, Loki, have come to a mutual arrangement. But as time passes by, you can’t help but wish for it to be more.

Warnings: tons of angst (we have reached that point, ladies and gentlemen), Steve being Steve, hang on to your hearts because it’s a bumpy ride

This chapter, well, it was a pain to write but here it is! At long last uwu As always, your comments, thoughts, possible screaming at me, likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! Put on your seat belts, guys! Love you all 💚

Part I | Part II | Part III

As the days pass by, Loki still continues to hover around you, his persistence adamant as he tries to get his chance to corner you while you’re in the kitchen or the living room, catching you off guard with a sudden question or a brush to your arm. But you match his determination with your own, dodging the questions he throws at you and giving him excuses, or simply evading his presence, your room being a constant safeguard from him.

 And for the first time since he moved in, you’re thankful for the difference in your schedules, with him still working at night and you in the day, it gives you a chance to fulfill your routine as usual—as pathetic as it may be; setting up the coffee machine in the morning and preparing him food, when available, at night for him to take to work, before preparing for the next day in the safety of your locked bedroom.

 Except Loki isn’t the only one determined to grab your attention. Steve’s presence has also been palpable for the past couple of days that it almost feels like you’re suffocating with him constantly blowing up your phone with messages of ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’ that you thought to be innocent and quite sweet. But they gradually change into asking if he can pick you up after your shift to grab a coffee or to invite you for breakfast before you start your shift, even going the extra mile to ask if you both can hang out at your place after work or over the weekend.

You’re not dense. You know of his intentions and he hasn’t been shy about them either. Nevertheless, the same with the treatment you give Loki, you evade him, rejecting his requests and giving him lame excuses that you know he doesn’t believe but take them either way. It’s not that you don’t enjoy Steve’s company, quite the opposite, but the whole awkwardness and tension between you and Loki during his last visit still sit fresh in your memory and you don’t want to entrap yourself in such a situation ever again.

Besides, it would only be unfair to Steve for your heart is still in limbo, especially with how rocky your relationship with Loki is, you cannot find it in you to entertain the affections of another man when you still harbor feelings for your roommate. For Steve to pine over you when you, in turn, have nothing to offer.

Until one Friday night, just at the end of your shift, you are left with no choice as Steve shoots you a text saying that he’s within the area and asks you to join him for dinner at a newly opened Italian restaurant that he really wants to try.

You try to come up with another excuse, worrying your lip as you scroll through his chatbox to see if there’s one that you haven’t used on him yet. But the next message he sends makes you sigh and you end up accepting his invitation, telling him to wait for you in the lobby of your office building.

“I can wait for you as long as it takes. I really want to see you again, Dove.”

The restaurant Steve takes you to is not what you had in mind. You imagined it to be one of those quaint spots within the downtown area that you wouldn’t even notice it to be a restaurant when you pass it by, a hole-in-a-wall type of place that still served authentic cuisines; not the five-star setting you’re staring at with chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, the customers dressed in semi-formal attire, making you feel out of place and under-dressed with your plain cream blouse, dress pants and flats while Steve wears a powder blue button-up underneath a leather jacket and jeans, and a maître d' guiding you to your table, a corner booth in the dining room, a floor to ceiling window at your side that gives you a beautiful view of their garden.

You’re still baffled by the extravagance of the place when Steve pulls your chair back for you to sit. You thank him and claim your seat before proceeding to scan the place once more, noting the intricate decor before looking down when a server sets a cardboard menu in front of you.

“Order anything you want,” Steve tells you as he sits across from you, nodding towards the menu and giving you a wide smile. “My treat.”

But you blanch when you don’t see prices written down. You skim through it, reading every item meticulously before settling on the Penne all'arrabbiata, something simple, something you know and you hear Steve order the Chicken Parmigiana and a Pizza Margherita.

“This place looks very expensive, Steve.” You almost whisper when the server leaves your table. “Not what I was expecting.” You confess.

“I just wanted to surprise you.” He grins. “Did it work?”

“Very much so.”

It doesn’t take a while for your food to arrive, thanking the same server once more, blinking in surprise when a bottle of white wine is brought to the table, your glasses filled halfway before he leaves it sitting in a bucket of ice at the side.

The dinner starts off quiet but Steve eventually pulls you into an animated conversation, throwing you question one after the other that you answer truthfully and slowly, you’re filled with a sense of ease, his laughter contagious when you tell him of a time during university that you almost set your entire dorm building on fire while your friend was teaching you how to bake a cake.

“And here I thought you were a great chef from the start.” He teases, taking a sip of his wine while he keeps his eyes on you.

“Even Gordon Ramsey had to start somewhere right?” You tell him with equal glee, taking another bite of your pasta, your fork stilling in mid-air when you feel his large hand envelope yours.

“I really want to get to know you more, Dove.” He begins, and you blink at him, a blush slowly forming on your cheeks at his sudden admission. “And I know that you already know that but I feel that you’re not ready for anything more.”

“It’s just—” You sigh internally, his words mentally taking the strength out of you for this is the last thing you want to deal with at the moment. “Things are very complicated right now and I don’t want to give you any false promises.”

“And I’m fine with that, really.” He smiles, your eyes darting back to your joined hands when he rubs his thumb against your knuckles. “As I said, I can wait for as long as it takes but I hope you allow me to still get to know you, even as friends.”

That makes you look up at him, a slow wash of relief flooding into you. Friends. You can do that. You can offer him that. So, you nod and give him a small smile in return. “Friends.”

The night ends unexpectedly well with Steve’s carefree aura slowly bleeding into you that the stress of going home and possibly facing Loki becomes nothing but a droning thought that gets pushed back from your mind. He drops you off and you smile when he walks you up the steps of your building, laughter still leaving your lips and filling the night air as he goes on with more of his life stories and playful quips.

“I really enjoyed tonight.” He says, turning to face him when you reach the top of the steps, getting to his level when he stops just two steps below. “And I hope you did too.”

“I did, Steve. Thank you.” You say with sincerity. “Though the restaurant did feel a bit too much.” You chuckle when he looks down at his feet, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with a bashful smile on his lips.

“I know. I’m sorry.” He glances up at you before reaching over to take your hand, a light gasp leaving your lips at the sudden gesture. “When can I see you again?” He asks. “As friends of course. No more impromptu fancy dates. I promise.” And you sense that his words are genuine.

That makes you smile. “I’ll text you when I’m free again.” You promise.

As you turn to enter the code for your building, a squeak leaves your lips when you feel Steve pull you towards him, his other hand reaching up to cup the side of your face, his body already pressing against yours, his head leaning down and quickly pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes widen in surprise at his kiss, your hands reaching up and pressing them against his chest as you make to push him away.

But you halt your movements when you see the familiar black car stop in front of the both of you, your body going rigid and your heart dropping to your stomach as the window of the driver’s seat rolls down, revealing Loki looking at you with wide eyes, shock, and confusion evident on his face and pain?

This is not how you envisioned your night to end. How could you even forget that Loki leaves late in the evening? The elation you were feeling earlier immediately dissipates as you come back to your senses and gently push Steve away, breaking the connection of your lips and looking at him with furrowed brows. Bewilderment and annoyance running through your veins for Steve stepping over your boundary of being friends.

“Steve.” You say his name with a bite. “Friends.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” He gives you an apologetic smile. “I just couldn’t help my—“

His words get cut off when a loud rev coming from Loki’s car echoes throughout the street, the window already rolled up when you look back at him, the wheels screeching against the pavement when he drives off, making Steve look back, his eyes following the vehicle.

“I didn’t know people raced here.” He says offhandedly, his eyes following Loki’s car before he brings them back to you, a frown forming on his lips when you look at him with irritation. “Dove, I’m really sorry.”

“Just—” You sigh and wave him off, turning your back on him to enter the code of your building once more. “Don’t do that again. We agreed on friends.”

“I know.” He sighs. I’m really sorry.” He sounds remorseful and you feel a slight pity toward him.

You nod and greet him a good night, not waiting for his reply as you let the door close behind you and walk up the steps to your floor.

You just want to forget this night ever happened, want to forget that Steve even kissed you. You want to ask why he did such a thing but you already know the answer to that. But most of all, you want to forget the way Loki looked at you, the hurt in his eyes leaving you flummoxed as to why he would elicit such a reaction, but all at once, the realization strikes you. The thought that he’s surprised, possibly annoyed that another man has made his move. That it is no longer just him who wants to take hold of your being and bestow upon you their attention.

That’s it! Of course! What else could it be? You think to yourself and sigh, slamming the front door of your flat closed and rushing to your room, looking forward to the oblivion you would fall into in your slumber.

 -

You notice Loki’s distance after that fateful night. No longer does he show his desire to speak with you, and no longer does he hover around you, mostly staying in his room and only leaving to grab something from the kitchen or the living room. You don’t know whether to be thankful for the space he’s giving you or be sad that you’re feeling more and more of his absence.

But you choose the first, choose to bask in the feeling of being able to breathe without seeing the faces he presents to you. This is the decision you made, the nail you’ve hammered into the coffin of your relationship with Loki and even if it hurts, even if as the day passes by the pieces of your broken heart get chipped by a fraction, you stay strong. For if you bend, if you break, you’re unsure how you’ll be able to put yourself back together.

Steve though, is another issue you face. With Loki’s dwindling existence comes Steve’s full-blown persistence.

He’s never stopped trying to contact you since that night. Messages of apology and invitations to see each other again constantly raging on your phone that you contemplate turning it off or even go as far as blocking his number. But you desist from such a decision and settle with telling him that you’ve swept his unwanted actions under the rug.

With all the stress happening in your personal life, you indulge your time at work every chance you get. It’s the only place you don’t see Loki or Steve, instead enjoying the company of your co-worker, Sam, whose puns and rants about your workload make life seem pretty easy making the problems at home nonexistent even for a short while, making it bearable even.

Yet a call from the front desk takes you by surprise when they inform you that you have a visitor in the lobby. When you ask who it was, the woman only says that the person refuses to give a name. You can’t think of anyone else who would come all this way downtown to see you—unless Loki has retracted his silent treatment and decided to handle things outside of the apartment.

The thought makes you sigh deeply for you really don’t want to face such a plight in the middle of a busy day. A light nudge on your seat startles you, making you look down at the floor and see Sam’s foot pressed against the wheels of your chair. “All g over there?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow in your direction while he fiddles with a Rubik's cube in his hand. “That sigh was so loud I thought you were having a heart attack.”

That might as well have been the case. But you give him a smile and stand from your seat, grabbing your phone from your desk before tucking it in your pocket. “Reception says I have a visitor and I just wanted my work done.” You lie.

“Well, go see who it is and tell them to fuck off. We have work to do.” Sam says as he turns back to his computer, his comment making you laugh. “I don’t want Maria all up our asses by the end of our shift.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it quick.” You assure him before you leave, Sam giving you a lousy salute.

You can’t help but feel nervous as you enter the elevator, your eyes looking up as the numbers displayed at the top of the door descend along with you. You cannot believe that Loki would miss sleeping just to come all the way over here to talk. Has the situation affected him so much that it warranted him to visit? You sigh. Thinking of what to tell him. If you should send him away and tell him that you’ll talk at home, finally taking the courage to face the conversation you have been dreading for so long? Or should you just settle everything here once and for all?

Taking a deep breath, you exit the lift as soon as the metal doors open, your hands clenching into fists as you try to calm yourself, to push the anxiety crawling up your skin from seeing and talking to Loki at bay. But the raven-haired man you expected to see is not the one waiting on the couch the receptionist directs you to, but a blond man holding a bouquet of sunflowers, a smile on his lips as he stands to meet you.

“Steve—” You stop in your tracks when he stands in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“I just had to see you.” His voice is laced with shyness, holding out the flowers to you. “I know you said that you’ve forgiven me but I can’t stop thinking that you haven’t. Not really anyway.” He sighs and looks on with a frown. “I really want to make it up to you.”

“You could have just called me, Steve.” You say with slight irritation. “I’m really busy today.”

“I’m sorry but I just—” His words falter, his eyes meeting the ground and you take pity on him, exhaling softly and taking the flowers from his grasp. There’s a smile slowly forming on his face, a smile of relief, as he looks up at you once more.

“I’m free on the weekend.” You begin. “Nothing fancy and this isn’t a date. Just friends hanging out. Understood?” The strength you show him startles you but you decide to put your foot down, weaving the direction you want to take with this man, and won’t take any chances for anything beyond friendly gestures to happen again, and you know you should have done the same with Loki. “I’m serious, Steve. No funny business.”

“I promise.” He breathes and moves to step forward but stops when you take a step back. “I’ll plan something and send you the details, yes?”

“Sounds good.” You hum and greet him goodbye with a smile, feeling his eyes boring into the back of your head as you make your way back to the hall of elevators.

It’s only Thursday and you already can’t wait for the weekend to be over.

 -

The weekend finally arrives and you sit in your vanity, all dressed in a simple black tank top that’s covered with a green flannel and skinny jeans. You look at your reflection in the mirror as you tame your mane with a brush, your eyes glancing down at your phone every once in a while to check if you still have time to spare.

Your breath suddenly catches in your throat when you see Loki enter your room, the maroon of his sweater making him hard to miss as he sits on your bed, his hand resting atop your sheets and gently caressing them, seeing the longing in his eyes. You don’t move to make him leave, you don’t move to do anything, your body too stunned to be so close to him after almost two weeks of the both of you avoiding each other.

You try your best to focus on getting ready instead, looking down at the surface of your desk, your small chest of accessories open as you try to pick out a bracelet if only to distract yourself from his presence.

“I miss sleeping here.” He suddenly says, his voice full of sadness as he keeps his eyes on your mattress. But you feel no empathy towards him, his words proving your assumptions that he only wanted you for your body and nothing more. “But I miss you the most.” That makes you stiffen, your eyes looking up at the mirror, meeting his eyes as you look back at his reflection. “Where will you be going?” He asks, only sensing his curiosity and none of the mockery you’re expecting.

“Steve asked to go bowling with him.” You say truthfully, seeing the frown that forms on his lips from your answer. You then move to stand from your dresser, picking up your purse, and grabbing your phone, a silent gasp escaping your lips when you see him walking closer. You turn to leave, purposefully keeping the distance between the both of you and making your way to the front door, pulling out your sneakers and slipping them on.

“You don’t have to run away from me.” His voice comes from behind, making you stand straight, your left foot half in your shoe. “I won’t pester you any longer. But please, before you go, will you answer one question?”

Oh no! This is it! The conversation is about to happen. But you can still avoid it, your eyes staring heavily at the doorknob in front of you, your hands getting all clammy as the nervousness and anxiety drenches you. You can stop it before you faint, before you collapse into a panic attack on your living room floor. All you have to do is reach for the door and leave.

“Please, Darling.” The brokenness in Loki’s voice makes your heart break, your hands tightening on your purse and deciding, with a heavy heart, that it’s now or never. That you’re finally coming clean.

You turn around and keep your eyes on the ground before gathering the courage to look up at him, swallowing thickly before asking “What is it?”

You see a small sense of relief wash over his features, but the frown returns when you take a step back as he takes one forward. He sighs. “There was one morning. After we—” His voice stops, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard before continuing. “I was asleep on your bed and I didn’t know if I dreamt it or if it was real. But—you told me you love me.”

That stuns you. Your purse dropping to the ground when his question sinks deep within. He heard you! That morning when you told him you love him before you left for work. He heard you! Your heart begins to beat hard against your chest, almost feeling it jump into your throat, your stomach turning as he finally asks his question.

“Is it real then? Do you love me? Or was it a dream?”

The panic within you surges and you feel pathetic for avoiding this conversation when he already had an inkling of your true feelings. That your fear of him cutting ties with you, or worse, him still wanting a physical relationship yet not feeling the same way was already bound to happen. And he’s simply asking the truth from you, probably to determine what decision he would choose.

You look into his eyes and see the greens of his irises implore you to answer. And you only realize that you’ve started to cry when a tear drops on your hand, making you look down as you lose the strength to face him and hide your face as you try to wipe away your flowing tears.

“It’s true.” You choke out. “I love you.”

And in an instant, Loki is in front of you, his hand cupping your face as he tilts your head back to have your eyes meet. There’s so much pain in them and it only triggers your tears to continue falling.

“Then why are you doing this?” He asks with a shaky breath. “Why are you going out with Steve? Has that been the reason you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Because I know that you don’t feel the same way, Loki.” You breathe, pulling away from his hold and turning your back to him to hide your face, your chest heaving as you suddenly find it hard to breathe, the room and Loki’s aura suffocating you. “You told your friends I was simply your roommate. Not even a friend and I knew then what I am to you.”

“Darling—”

“I’m going to be late.” You cut him off and turn to the door, leaving quickly and running down the steps by twos, wanting nothing but to get away from the apartment, to get away from him, to get away from the shit show that just happened. The cat is finally out of the bag and you know there’s no way to put it back in, that now all you have to do is wait for the next thing to happen and it’s either he leaves the apartment or you do.

But you don’t meet Steve as you’ve planned. Texting him a lame excuse about catching the stomach flu and making your way instead to the cafe you and Loki first met. It’s painful, with the small memory of Loki lingering within but it’s one of the places you find comfort in, one of the places you feel safe. It’s why you asked Loki to meet you there in the first place.

You order your drink and take a seat in your usual booth, a frown forming on your lips when you realize that it’s the same booth you and Loki sat on when you discussed with him the apartment. That you’ve embedded him into your places of comfort without you realizing it and it just further adds to the heartache you’re feeling.

But you try to drown out your misery, choosing to bask in the calming atmosphere of the cafe; the light chatter from the few customers that litter the place, the sound of glasses and plates clinking against each other from the back kitchen, shutting off your phone when you hear it beep and ring simultaneously, seeing Steve’s name blaring at you from the screen, another entity you cannot deal with at the moment.

 “May I join you?”

You freeze when you hear the familiar timbre of Loki’s voice in front of you, making you look up at him as he places a ceramic mug on the other side of the booth. You move to stand from your seat, another attempt to get away but stop when he blocks your path, seeing the frown once more on his face.

“Please, Darling. Stay.” He implores you. “You don’t have to speak but I just want you to hear what I have to say. If you don’t like it, then you are free to leave. But please just hear me out.”

You keep your eyes on him and sigh before giving him a nod of agreement, settling back in the booth, your eyes cast down on the table and hearing him take his seat across from you.

He doesn’t speak immediately, taking a sip of his drink first before folding his hands on the table, exhaling audibly before he speaks. “You’re wrong you know.” Your eyes widen in surprise at his words, making you peek up at him in utter curiosity. About what? “Those assumptions you have, they are wrong. I-I feel the same way about you. I’ve had for a while now.” He breathes out before looking up to meet your eyes. “I love you, Darling. I have since I first saw you sitting in this very booth eight months ago.”

He loves me. You blink as you try to register his words. He loves me. This couldn’t be real. He loves me. But he’s just told you that he does and you sense no lies in his confession, the way his green eyes glow as you stare at them says that he’s telling the truth. That he loves you. And you feel your heart slowly piece itself back together, a sense of joy running through your veins but the happiness you’re trying to feel stops as a question lingers within the forefront of your mind.

“Then—why did you tell your friends I was simply your roommate?” You finally ask, your hands tightening around your mug as you push on. “Not even a friend or a companion or something that would insinuate that we have somewhat of a relationship. Simply a roommate.”

The way he runs his hand through his hair and how you notice his other hand tightening around his cup makes you worry. But you hold on, waiting for him to respond.

“Because I saw the way Steve was looking at you when he came over that night.” He starts and you furrow your brow in confusion. “Not just him, my brother as well. He never winks at a woman unless he’s interested in them. And I became arrogant and confident that you wouldn’t bat an eye in their direction,  to prove to them that because of what we have, you would always choose me. Only choose me. I didn’t think you would go out with Steve and I kept holding on to the fact that you would come back to me. But I was wrong and that was my mistake.”

You blink at him as you feel your slowly mending heart shatter even more. The tears flowing once again, looking down to hide your face from him as you try to comprehend his explanation, his reasoning of why he’s treated you as such on that day. You feel played, you feel used, anger surging within your veins to think that he would treat you like some pet that he can leave unattended and expect you to come crawling back to him. That he deliberately acted as such after knowing of your feelings for him. But most of all, you feel hurt that he would do such a thing when all you’ve ever done was to make him happy.

You suddenly feel his arms wrap around you and you can’t find the strength to push him away. The brokenness you’re feeling too strong that you just give in to the pain, sobbing in your hands as your thoughts are filled with so much doubt, so much hurt. You couldn’t believe that he would do such a thing to you that it makes you question why you even love him in the first place when he’s not thought of your feelings for one bit when he did what he did that day.

You flinch when you feel him press a kiss on your hair and reach up to push against his chest, making his hands drop from his hold on you. You sniff and wipe the mess on your face on the sleeve of your flannel, not giving a damn about how you look and taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

“I want to go home.” You tell him, hearing the weariness in your voice.

You’re thankful that he doesn’t push you to stay once more, standing from his seat beside you to give you room to slide out of the booth, and you don’t even look back at him when you leave the cafe in a hurry.

You walk out into the frigid autumn night and will yourself to stop crying. You shall not waste any more tears for this man, you shall not waste any more time even further for he doesn’t deserve it. You thought that confessing your love for him would have been the worst thing to happen, and you even thought that things would fall back in place when he confessed his feelings to you. But after hearing his words, after hearing of the insensitivity he’s bestowed upon you, you don’t even want to be near him any longer.

You sense him following you as you walk back to the apartment, your arms wrapping around your torso to shield yourself from the cold and stop yourself from shivering, not from the weather, but from the intense wave of emotions rushing through you. But you look up when you hear your name being called, releasing a heavy sigh upon seeing Steve waiting at the front door, a bag in his hand and confusion in his eyes.

“I thought you had the stomach flu?” He questions you as you near him but choose to ignore him all the same, pressing the code of your building as the only desire that fills you is to get away. But you're stopped when Steve moves to turn you around, his eyebrows furrowed as he cups your face with his hand, no doubt noticing the redness of your eyes and knowing that you cried. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He asks, his voice full of concern.

“Rogers?” Another sigh escapes you when you hear Loki beside you, the tension that abruptly engulfs the three of you and the hostility seeping from the both of them suffocating you, moving to pull away from Steve, not wanting to be a part of their looming confrontation and turning back to face the front door once more.

“I came to check on her. She said she was sick.” Steve answers him, then the anger rolls in his voice when he asks Loki, “What did you do? Why was she crying?”

“It’s none of your business.” Loki spits and you turn to look at the both of them when you hear a foot slipping on the concrete steps, a container dropping to the ground and a grunt erupting from the both of them, yelping when you see Steve grabbing Loki by the neck of his sweater, Loki’s hands grabbing hold of Steve’s wrists as they bare their teeth at each other, like two dogs in a stand-off.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You shout at Steve, pushing at his thick arm and hitting it with your fist. “Let him go, Steve! I mean it!”

“He hurt you! I know he did!” Steve growls, his hands gripping tighter on Loki’s sweater, your roommate’s eyes narrow as he looks straight at the blond man, showing no weakness or signs of backing down.

“Go ahead, Rogers! Hit me!” Loki taunts and it only riles Steve further. “Show her what an animal you truly are!”

“Stop it, Loki!” You shout. “Let him go, Steve! Please!” Your heart rate quickens as you keep hitting his arm, the tears spilling down your face as anger and exhaustion consume you like a tidal wave, drowning you and you have no idea how to push through the water to save yourself. Your hands falter, gripping Steve’s shirt instead as you slowly give up, choking on your sobs as you beg once more. “Please, Steve. For me. Let him go.”

You only know that he’s done your bidding when you hear a thud on the ground, Steve taking your hands in his. You don’t look at him, you don’t look at Loki either to check if he’s alright, feeling so tired emotionally, physically, and mentally that all you want to do is disappear, to leave everything behind and go somewhere where both of them cannot follow.

“Dove, I’m sorry.” He whispers against your forehead as he presses a kiss on it. “I won’t stand you getting hurt—“

“Go home, Steve.” You cut him off and pull your hands out from his grasp, balling them into fists as you face him, rage dominating your entire being. You know why he’s being protective of you but you can’t shut down the thought that such intentions are misplaced for Loki is right, it’s none of his business.

“What?” He’s confused. But you’ve had enough.

“I said go home! Go home and just leave me alone! The both of you!” You yell, facing Loki as well who physically steps back from your outburst, punching harshly on the pad of the front door, leaving both of them to strangle each other if they wish as you climb up the stairs as fast as you can.

You’re done. Done with all the bullshit that surrounds you. Done with Loki’s selfishness and Steve’s imposing presence. As soon as you walk into the apartment, you slam the door shut and toss your purse on the couch. You don’t even bother taking off your shoes as you walk down the hall, too furious to comprehend what you’re doing.

You lock your door and pace in your room, stopping in front of your vanity mirror to look at the mess you’ve become before letting out a scream, releasing all the tension, the pain, the anger all at once. You then close your eyes when you finish and sit on the edge of your bed, recalling the breathing technique Sam taught you when the stress of work catches up with you. Slowly, you feel yourself relax, all the negativity slipping out of your system that when you open your eyes, all you feel is determination.

You grab your laptop from the side of your bed and boot it at once, your mind floating to your thoughts earlier, with Loki’s confession and Steve’s brash actions solidifying even further a decision you never thought you would actually make. Going on Craigslist, you waste no time scrolling through the page and clicking on the tab that holds the lists of apartments for rent, hoping you’d find a place before this month ends.

Taglist: @mochie85​ @stolenlucifer​ @michelleleewise​ @rmoonstoner​ @muddyorbs​ @javagirl328​ @lucylaufeyson3​ @huntress-artemiss​ @ariacraigggg​ @silverfire475​ @lonadane

[elf-bot]

good girl - kyuhyun

genre: smut

word count: 959

request: HI I was ur last anon, im shy 🙈 but if it's okay could I request some praise kink w/ kyuhyun? (id love to be tagged also!!) and this may be specific I apologize (feel free to disregard if so LOL) but maybe based on the SWING mv? some ~shenanigans~ in his office or something of the sort...thank you sm in advance!!!! (throws tons of hearts)

warnings: praise kink, fingering, unprotected sex, semi public sex (as in sex in an office late at night).

[i hope this is good enough for you, thanks for your request. i enjoyed this a LOT, really a LOT!!! i will be mixing requests to post so you can see different members!! ]

tags: @physalidae

“I should be going,” you whispered to yourself.

You stretched your arms and legs sitting in your desk. It was late, on Friday night, and you still were working on your report for Monday. Your boss was an asshole and you hated him. Every little mistake you made was pointed out, so to just avoid that this time you forced yourself to stay longer than you should.

The office was empty. Your coworkers left some time ago, even those who worked for extra hours. But not you. You heard some steps in the office and you shifted your position on the chair, trying to fix your hair and your blouse, that had been a little unbuttoned since you were alone.

“I didn’t expect you to be here,” Kyuhyun’s voice called out. He came with a coffee in his hand, finding his desk a couple of meters away from you, with his back facing you.

“Yeah, well I need to complete my report. Otherwise, he will just look down on me again.”

“That old man, we all hate him.”

Kyuhyun finished his coffee and turned himself around to see you. He took a look at your mess. This wasn’t you. You were neat, clean and a perfectionist, on yourself and your work, and now your hair was everywhere and your uniform was full of wrinkles and you looked lost about what to do next with your project.

“Can I help you?”

“What?”

Kyuhyun came closer to you, standing behind your seat.

“I said,” he leaned, mumbling on your ear, “can I help you?”

“I’m fine,” you managed the words to past your lips.

He bent straight. His hands made their way to your shoulders and your neck massaging your skin. You let out a gasp, not sure if it was because his action was so sudden or because of pleassure. Maybe both.

Kyuhyun’s hands worked on you, sending magical sensations all over your body. One of his palms made its way to your chest down the fabric. You gasped when he cupped your breast over your bra.

“Shhh, just relax,” he whispered on your ear. He continued to play with your breast and you clenched your thighs together. Finally his fingers slipped inside your bra, touching your nipple.

“So beautiful,” Kyuhyun breathed.

You bit your lip. You felt that familiar wetness on your panties at his touch. He took off your blouse finally after pulling out the last button and made you stand up, leaning you on the desk as he took a sit on your chair, having a perfect view of your ass. He was eager, moving up your skirt until he could see between your thighs. He spreaded your ass cheeks with his big hands. His dick twitched in his pants at your breathy moans, wondering how it’d feel to be inside you.

He set aside your panties and he groaned at how wet you were.

“Just a few seconds and you’re already dripping for me,” his slim fingers ghosting over your folds. “Such a good girl.”

You moaned, legs shaking and heart racing. You felt so exposed, but you liked it. He played with your cunt and you moved your hips to meet his thrusts once he slided two fingers inside you. He stretched you out. His cock now hurted for being kept on his pants. Sinful sounds came from the way his fingers worked on you, and they mixed with your soft cries.

“How bad I want to fill up your precious little cunt,” he whispered. Your walls clenched and he smirked. “You love it when I praise you, don’t you?”

“Mmhhmm...”

He pulled out, his fingers fully coated in your juices.

“Come here,” he grabbed you by the waist and pulled out his dick free. You sat down on his lap and whined, his chest pressing against your back. “I’m gonna fuck you good like you deserve,” he rubbed his tip on your folds. “You want me to fill you up?” you hummed, he smirks again. “Use your words, you can tell me, you’re a good girl.”

You whined, pressing your hips down, asking for him to finally push his dick on you.

“Yes, fuck me please, I need you so bad,” you begged.

He spreaded your legs and pushed his cock finally inside you slowly. You moaned at the intrusion, you felt so full now. He rocked his hips to thrust into you. His hands taking your sides so you could also bounce yourself on him and meet his pace.

“Just like that, you’re taking me so well,” Kyuhyun hissed on your neck, letting his hot breath on your skin. “So tight and wet for me.”

He stopped his thrusts and you fucked yourself on his lap as fast as you could to find the sweet release you’ve been yearning. You squirm on his lap when he goes back to rock his hips, slamming against your ass and the tip of his dick finally reaches your spot one, two, three times with his harsh thrusts.

“I’m gonna cum-”

Your hips stuttered when you felt close to release, his hand now were going south to work on your clit. Your walls fluttered around his cock and you came with a loud moan. Your eyes shut and quickly you tried to muffle your moans with your hand, but his hips are still rocking into you. You whined, feeling the overstimulation.

Kyuhyun’s thrust became sloppier, his dick twitched and the grip on your hips became harder until he came deep inside you moaning your name. When he calmed down from his high he rubbed your thighs and your belly and left a soft kiss on your neck. Your walls still squeezed around him.

“How you feel?” he breathed against your shoulder.

“A lot better...”

He smiled.

“Can I help you then with your report?”

“If that’s what you want, I can’t deny you.”

[mackenzielovee]

hiiiii angel!

I have a request for rafe x reader x jj.

In which Barry uses the reader as a collateral after rafe accumulates late payments for the substances he consumed and jj steals the 25K from him. The reader has been hanging out with both boys since she has a strong connection with both. Barry has been watching them all three interact over the last month and finds the reader as the perfect way to make them pay for their mistakes. Barry confronts both boys and right when he’s aiming to shoot the reader either JJ or Rafe get in the way and take the shot instead ( you can choose who) and the other boy promises to take care of the reader and protect her from all dangers. Meanwhile the other one is bleeding himself to death while giving his life for reader. This idea was so random but I’m so obsessed!!! Please please please! I’m so excited it would mean the world to me<3

a/n: hey baby! thank you so much for this request. I actually loved writing this and i hope i did it just the way you wanted! please let me know if you enjoyed it! ily<3

Warnings: swearing, talk of drug abuse, gun play, gun fire, blood, mentions of death,

Word Count: 5.5k

my writing

protection - rafe cameron

It's a warm day out on the Cut. As you walk through the tall grass and slap away a mosquito that landed on your arm, you think about how JJ is going to want to swim once you get the boat out into the water, and you forgot your bathing suit. You hope Kie has one that she left over at John B's, maybe you could steal it.

Faintly, you hear the hum of a dirt bike as it gets closer to you, but you think nothing of it. You're holding a six pack of JJ's favorite beer in your hand, excited to get the day started. You, JJ, John B, and Sarah all planned to take the boat out for a joyride and a day on the water. Kiara's working and Pope is preparing for his scholarship interview, an excuse that made JJ call him a nerd.

You hear the bike start to approach you, so you turn to see who it is. You've never seen anyone with a bike this close to John B's house. You don't recognize the guy under the helmet, but you don't really have time, because he pulls the bike in front of you and stops, scaring the shit out of you.

"Hey there, sweetheart," you hear, and immediately know the voice of the slimy drug dealer himself.

Barry removes his helmet and smirks at you, eyeing you up and down. You look disgusted with him, not sure what he wants with you but knowing you want no part of it.

"Get out of my way, Barry," you snap.

Barry's an asshole, always has been. One of your other good friends, Rafe Cameron, buys coke from him on the regular. You've been trying to get Rafe off of it and even went so far as to see Barry to get him to stop selling to Rafe, but it didn't work out. Barry just called you 'princess' a lot and then told you he'd lose a fuck ton of money if Rafe ever gets clean.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Barry laughs, but it's sarcastic, "Are those beers up for grabs?"

You instinctively pull your occupied hand back, away from him so he can't grab it.

"No," you say, trying to side step him. He hops off his bike and walks in front of you, quickly boxing you in.

"Listen, sweetheart, it's nothing against you. But I'm gonna need you to get on the bike," Barry's voice is thick, making you swallow your anxiety.

You wonder if you screamed for JJ, would he hear you? Or would Barry rip your throat out before any noise even came out?"

"Not a chance," you reply, trying to keep yourself calm.

Barry snickers, then brings his beady eyes back up to yours. He steps closer, making you step back, until your back hits the bike and you had no way of getting away from him.

"I'm gonna say it one more time," he tells you, "And then it might have to get ugly. Get on the fuckin' bike."

Your heart is beating a mile a minute with no idea what this man wants with you or where he's taking you, but you know better than to go anywhere with him. You shake your head, sure words will fail you right now. Barry just sighs, then reaches up to his back and pulls a gun out from his pants. The beers fall from your hand to the ground, splitting open and spilling out on the ground.

"Oh, now, that's just a big waste," Barry uses the gun to point down at the beers, "Get on the goddamn bike. Now."

You don't see any other option; essentially it's live and get on the bike, or die right here, less than half a mile from John B's. You can already imagine the memorial JJ will build for you when they find out this is the spot you died in. Somehow, it comforts you. Only a little.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask him quietly as you turn to face the bike.

Barry watches as you sit down on the back of his bike, then uses the gun to slowly stroke up your bare thigh. You can smell his breath as he leans in to speak to you.

"Your boys both owe me. Big time. So, I'm taking the one thing I know they'll pay good money for," he smirks, then hands you his helmet, "Don't want you to get hurt, sweetheart."

You want to throw up every time he calls you that, but instead, you grab the helmet from him and put it on. You look back, hoping maybe, for some reason, JJ had wandered out and would just so happen to see you. All you see is trees. Barry hops on and starts up the bike, then turns back to you again.

"Now, you're supposed to hold on here," he tells you, wrapping your arms around his waist, "But if you feel so inclined to move your hand a little south of that, well, I don't mind at all."

You gag and loosen your grip on him as much as you can, not wanting to touch him any more than you have to. He starts up the bike just as his words sink into your mind. Your boys both owe me. What does that even mean?

Barry takes off, not bothering to go any slower with you. It's a pretty short ride back to his place, but feels longer to you because of how sick you feel. Every thought goes through your mind; he's taking you back here so he can kill you in private, he's going to rape you, sell you to some old Kook who will keep you in the basement. All sorts of things you think of, none of them good.

When you get back to his house, he stops the bike and you immediately jump off. So does Barry, who winds up just throwing the bike down in the grass. You throw the helmet down too, not caring if he wanted you to do that or not.

"What are you talking about?" you snap, watching Barry act surprised by your outburst, "Who owes you money? What boys? Why me?"

Barry rolls his eyes and shakes his head, then reaches over and grabs onto your wrist. You try to pull away, but his grip is firm.

"Don't fucking start that shit with me," he snaps at you, "Get in the house."

His tone scares you, and even though you know you shouldn't, you obey. You just want to know why you're here and what the hell is going on.

You walk up the stairs to the porch and sit down on the couch, the same one Rafe sits on every time he buys from Barry.

"Tell me what's going on," you say once you're seated.

Barry picks up a blunt from the table and lights it up, silently holding it out to offer you some. You shake your head and scrunch your nose up, disgusted with it. That makes Barry grin.

"Rafe owes me money," Barry states simply.

You raise your eyebrow, "So?"

Barry looks over at you, giving you the 'are you serious?' look. He sits down in the chair beside the couch, taking a long drag off his blunt before he speaks again.

"So," he says, "Did you know JJ stole 25k from my house?"

Your expression falters and your jaw drops, telling Barry you know nothing of it. That almost makes him feel guilty for scaring you so bad back there, if you were totally innocent. But he needs his money, and you're his one way ticket to it.

"JJ wouldn't do that," you say, not being able to stop the hesitation in your voice.

"Really?" Barry snickers, "Well, he did. And since both of them boys seem to be wrapped around your little finger, you and I are gonna become best friends until I get my money. Understand, sweetheart?"

You glare at him, now understanding what he wants with you.

"So, I'm just collateral," you confirm, watching Barry's lips turn up around his blunt when you speak.

"Exactly," he smiles, "Now. Do you have your phone with you, or did you drop it when you spilled my beers?"

You huff at him and roll your eyes, then lean over in your bag and pull it out of the front pocket. Barry snatches it quickly, then asks you what your code is. You tell him, knowing if he can just get the boys here fast, you won't have to be alone with him anymore.

"Should I send them a picture of you holding up a newspaper? Don't they do that in all the hostage shows on TV?" Barry laughs to himself, looking up at you for confirmation.

You shrug, not wanting to speak to him any more than you have to. Barry rolls his eyes.

"Them boys really put up with that attitude?" he snaps at you, "Goddamn, I could never. You better straighten up, honey."

You just stare at him, deciding it's best if the two of you don't speak. Barry hits send and then tucks your phone in his pocket.

"That should send those two idiots running," Barry laughs, taking another hit from his blunt and then looking over to you again, "You sure you don't wanna try this? Might help you fucking relax."

You glare at him once again and then shake your head, looking away from him. You can tell out of the corner of your eye that he stands up, but when he grabs your chin and forces you to look over at him, you gasp.

"Straighten out, or I'll do it for you," he says, then roughly releases you.

You sigh and sit back on the couch, praying that at least one of the boys will arrive soon. Barry sits back down in his seat and tries to strike up a conversation, pretending he hadn't just manhandled you.

"So, which one are you gonna choose?"

Your head snaps over as you stare at him, trying to figure out what the hell he's talking about.

"What?" you ask, your voice giving away your confusion.

"You know," Barry shrugs, "They're both, like, crazy in love with you. So, if I have to shoot one to teach the other a lesson, which one would you pick?"

You roll your eyes, "You're fucking crazy."

Barry leans forward and stares at you, blunt hanging from his lips. He slams his hand down on the table in front of you, trying to get your attention.

"They stole from me," he shouts now, "Both of them. Someone's going to fuckin' pay for that."

You just nod your head, hoping he'll just shut up now. You don't want to talk about how they stole or Barry teaching either of them a lesson. You just want to go home. You should've never been walking by yourself in the first place. Then again, you never dreamed some psycho with a gun would come along.

"I think it'll be JJ," Barry continues, "You seemed pretty bummed on Cameron when he refused to quit his shit. But, you know, take your pick. Drug addict or thief. Man, it's like the Bachelor or some shit up in here."

Your eyes roll so far back into your head that you swear you can see your brain. When you look over at him, he's still laughing at his own joke.

"They're going to pay you back, and then you're never going to see any of us again," you say confidently. Barry just laughs.

"Yeah, okay, sweetheart."

You look over form the porch when you hear a noise, then sigh with relief when you see Rafe's truck pull up. He's driving fast, too fast, and he hops out of the truck the second he gets within running range of the porch. He doesn't even bother to close the door behind him.

You try to stand and go out to him, but Barry grabs your arm and keeps you down on the couch.

"Easy," he tells you, reaching behind him and pulling out his gun. He sets it down on the table in front of him, and you take note of how his expression changes from laughing to pissed off.

Rafe runs up to the porch and swings open the door, and that's when Barry releases you. You stand and rush to him, feeling Rafe sigh in relief as he wraps his strong arms around your little body. All of your anxiety melts away as you know you're safe now. Rafe would never let anything happen to you.

"Please tell me you're okay," Rafe whispers against your head, squeezing you tight.

"I'm okay," you confirm.

He pulls back from the hug and starts checking all over your body for injuries anyway. He holds up your arms and scans those, stopping his finger over a bruise you already had. It happened on the boat with JJ.

"I'm fine," you repeat to him, laying your head back on his chest. You really just don't want him to let go of you.

"What the fuck, Barry?" Rafe yells, his voice echoing through your ear as you have your head pressed on his chest.

"Afternoon, Country Club," Barry stands and smirks, watching the way you cling to Rafe.

You don't look at him, you just close your eyes and breathe Rafe in, not wanting to remember where you are. In your mind, the two of you are hanging out and eating lunch at the club. You always love going, especially on windy days when his scent travels from across the table. You love the way he smells.

"I'd like to change my answer, sweetheart," Barry tells you, ignoring Rafe's confused glance, "I think this one might love you back, Rafe. How sweet."

Rafe instinctually tightens his arm up around you, keeping you pressed up against him.

"I swear to God," Rafe starts, "If you laid one hand on her-"

"I didn't, Jesus," Barry groans, "I wish you cared about getting me my money the same way you care about saving this bitch."

You don't react, not even slightly. You don't care what Barry thinks of you. You just never want his slimy hands to touch you. Ever again.

"She's not a bitch, man," Rafe's voice goes quiet, "And I'm going to get you your money."

Barry laughs and then pretends to cry, "Boo who, she's not a bitch. I don't care, bro. I gave you shit on two separate occasions-"

"And I gave you my bike as collateral!" Rafe shouts back.

"That piece of shit ain't worth half what you owe me," Barry spits, "Your girl liked riding on it, though."

Rafe's chest tenses against you, and then you feel him bring his hand up to stroke your hair. He's trying to keep you as relaxed as possible.

"Y/N, go wait in my truck," Rafe tells you quietly, pulling the keys out of his pocket.

"Oh, no, no," Barry smirks, reaching out and snatching the keys from Rafe, "You think you're the only person I called here?"

As if on cue, the porch door swings open again and JJ walks in. Your eyes open and you see him, his expression worse than you've ever seen him.

"You got her?" JJ points to you, but he's talking to Rafe.

Rafe just nods, tightening his grip around you again. You open your mouth to speak, but watch as JJ charges toward Barry and punches him square in the nose.

"What the fuck did you do?" JJ shouts, watching Barry tumble to the floor, "If I find out you fucking hurt her-"

Barry laughs from the floor, wiping blood from his nose, "Easy, bro. You two are so damn worried about this chick."

JJ's chest is expanding and then contracting every five seconds, telling you his adrenaline is going crazy. You know he's ready to punch him again. Barry stands and picks up his gun from the coffee table, pointing it directly at JJ. You try to push forward to stop it, but Rafe keeps his grip tight.

"Now," Barry says, spitting his blood onto the floor, "You bitches are gonna pay up."

"Barry, I'll get you your money, man," Rafe promises. When Barry moves and points the gun at Rafe, he quickly tucks you behind him. He gives you one of his hands to hold onto, while the other one goes up to stop Barry from shooting.

"Yeah, when?" Barry yells, "I told you, Cameron. It's not just me you're screwing with."

Rafe nods his head, doing his best to try and calm Barry down. JJ looks over at you, mouthing 'are you okay?'

You nod at him, your expression clearly giving you away. You're scared, and he knows it.

"I know, bro," Rafe says, "Some people still owe me from the party Friday night. I'm going to get it, I just need some time."

Barry laughs sarcastically and lowers the gun, "Oh, yeah, for sure, man. You know what, take your time, Rafe."

Rafe's expression changes, knowing Barry doesn't mean it. He just wonders what that means for getting you out of here.

"The girl stays with me until both of you are paid up," Barry tells both of them.

"Like hell," JJ mutters.

Barry, who is still pissed about his nose, turns around and hits JJ in the head with the stock of the gun. You watch JJ stumble back, and without hesitation, break from Rafe's grasp and rush over to him. Rafe reaches out to try and grab you, but his grip isn't good enough.

"JJ!" you say, grabbing onto him as he stumbles. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, allowing you to help him stand.

"Shit," JJ mumbles, gripping his forehead. He pulls his fingers back and sees blood.

"Damn, darlin'," Barry grins at you, "You really do love them both."

You glare at Barry for the millionth time today as you set your arm around JJ's waist and lead him over to sit down. He sits in the chair Barry had been sitting in and you stand in between his legs, moving his hand away to see his wound.

Barry looks over at Rafe, who has his jaw clenched as he watches you stand in between JJ's legs and clean him up. He watches as JJ's hand lingers on the back of your thigh, his fingers brushing your skin ever so slightly.

"That's gotta hurt," Barry says to Rafe, getting a lot of amusement out of watching the boys squirm over you.

You ignore whatever Barry says as you use the bottom of your shirt to wipe off some of the blood on JJ's forehead. It's not bleeding badly, which you're thankful for. You're almost sure Barry doesn't own a first aid kit.

"Now, JJ," Barry steps over to you two, "Let's talk about how you stole twenty-five thousand dollars out of my house, yeah?"

Barry presses the gun to the back of JJ's neck, making JJ tense up. You watch Barry, bringing your hands to JJ's shoulders and holding onto him, as if to comfort him somehow.

"I'll get it back," JJ says, his voice hoarse.

"You bet your ass you will," Barry tells him, "When will that be, exactly?"

JJ sighs, knowing it won't be any time soon. That money is long gone.

"Can we set up a payment plan?" JJ asks sarcastically.

He regrets it when Barry grabs onto your arm and pulls you away, pressing the gun into your stomach as he holds onto you. JJ stands quickly and Rafe starts to rush over, but stops when he sees the look in Barry's eyes.

"You know, I'm getting real sick of being treated like a bitch," Barry tells them, pressing the gun into you harder, "I want my money. Now."

You let out an involuntary groan at the pain, watching Rafe as he tries to figure out what to do.

"Let her go, Barry," Rafe finally speaks, "Let her sit down and I'll go get your money."

"All of it?" Barry confirms.

Rafe nods, "All of it. Just let her sit down over there."

Barry looks at both boys, noting how pathetic they are. He's glad, though, knowing all he has to do is threaten your life to get what he wants. He just doesn't understand what's so damn special about you.

He releases your arm and shoves you in the direction of the couch, Rafe stepping forward to grab you. He pulls you into him again, leading you over to sit down.

"You all right?" he asks you, taking a seat beside you and bringing his hands up to your cheeks.

"Yes," you reply, nodding feverishly as if to try and convince him.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, okay? I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers as he pulls you into him.

Your breath catches in your throat as he calls you 'baby'. He's never done that before. Your mind wanders back to Barry telling you that both boys are crazy in love with you. You now sit there in Rafe's arms, wondering if Barry's right.

Rafe pulls back and looks at you in the eyes again, "Just sit right here for me, okay? I'm gonna go get the money. I'll be right back."

You nod again, silently promising him that you'll be here when he gets back. As if you could leave. He rubs the base of his thumb on your cheek and gives you a small smile, then stands up. He curses, knowing he doesn't want to leave you here.

JJ steps over to Rafe as he walks toward the door, grabbing his arm.

"Where the fuck are you gonna get twenty six thousand bucks right now, man?" JJ hisses, keeping his voice down for your sake.

"I don't know, JJ, I was thinking I'd walk into the bank and ask nicely," Rafe snaps, "I have no fucking idea. But I have to figure something out, right?"

JJ runs his hands through his hair and exhales loudly, then looks over and smiles quickly at you. Barry watches the boys, trying to figure out what's going on.

"Dude-"

"Just," Rafe starts, already annoyed with JJ, "Stay with her. I'm going to figure it out."

Rafe hates telling JJ to comfort you and be there for you, but it's the way it has to be. No way JJ could get his dirty hands on that kind of money right now. Or ever. JJ nods and starts walking over to you as Rafe thinks about how much money his dad might have in his safe right now.

"You know," Barry starts, standing up again with the gun in his hand, "I'm starting to think you don't really have my money, Country Club."

"Chill out, Barry," Rafe sighs, stepping toward the door once more. The safety of the gun being turned off is what makes Rafe stop dead in his tracks.

"Tell me the truth, Rafe," Barry says.

Rafe slowly turns around with his hands up, swallowing quickly.

"I'm going to get it," Rafe states again.

Barry shakes his head, "You're lying."

Before Rafe can process it, Barry moves the gun in your direction. He looks at you for a second, the horror on your face, and you know your body is frozen. You shut your eyes, not wanting to see it happen. At least you'll die with the boys.

The shot fires fast, but you don't feel anything. You hear a yell, then Rafe scream out, and when you open your eyes, JJ's lying on the ground. Your jaw falls open as you tumble onto the floor beside him, setting your hand on his bleeding stomach. Your hand is soaked instantly, but you don't know what else to do.

"JJ," you cry out, watching his eyes find yours, "JJ, oh, my God."

Tears fall down your face as you stare at him, his eyes glazing over. He's just watching you panic. Rafe comes over and sinks down beside you, not knowing how to help.

"Towels, Rafe," you order, "Hurry."

You spot a random shirt laying on the ground, one you're sure is Barry's and use it for the time being to soak up some of the blood.

"Hey, JJ, I'm right here," you tell him, watching your tears fall onto his shirt. They become invisible immediately, the blood stains swallowing them up.

"Are you okay?" JJ chokes out, spitting blood from his mouth onto the floor when he finishes speaking. You shake your head and try to swallow your tears, but you can't.

"I'm fine, JJ, just relax," you tell him, then look up, "Rafe!"

Rafe comes out of Barry's and onto the porch with towels in his hand, stopping only when Barry grabs onto his arm.

"I was aiming for her, remember that," Barry tells him.

Rafe just yanks his arm away and comes to you, placing one of the towels over JJ's wound.

"Rafe, what do we do?" you ask frantically, trying to ignore the blood that now seeps onto the floor.

Rafe shakes his head, having absolutely no idea what to do. He brings his hands over yours and puts more pressure on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

"You have to call 911," you tell Rafe, "Go."

Rafe stares at you for a second, still stunned, when JJ starts to speak from the floor.

"Rafe," JJ chokes, "You gotta get her out of here, man."

"Not a chance, JJ," you say, trying your best to smile at him.

JJ looks over at Rafe again, "Rafe."

His voice is serious, and Rafe knows exactly what he's telling him. He's a goner, and he knows it. But he doesn't want you to watch him die. Rafe nods to JJ, telling him he understands. He watches JJ relax and lay his head back down, then stands up. JJ brings his hand down to yours and wraps his fingers around you. You squeeze, trying to tell him it's going to be okay.

"Go call," you remind him.

Rafe steps across JJ's body and, without speaking, tucks his arm around your waist and picks you up. He knows this won't be easy, and he can already feel his emotions coming up.

"Rafe, put me down!" you shout, your blood soaked hands going down to try and peel his arm off of you, "Rafe, stop! JJ!"

He carries you over to the door of the porch, doing his best to keep his grip tight as you fight with every ounce of strength you have.

"Let me go, Rafe! I have to help him!" you're screaming your head off, and Rafe hates it, but he knows he has to do what's best for you.

He glances back only for a second and sees JJ's shallow breathing, knowing he doesn't have much time left.

"Rafe!" you scream, kicking and thrashing around to try and get away.

"I have to make sure you're safe," Rafe tells you as the two of you reach the truck, "It's what he wants me to do."

"He's going to die!" you scream, "Let go of me! I'll never forgive you for this!"

Rafe opens the passenger door of the truck and puts you inside, using all of his strength to keep you there.

"You'll be alive, though!" Rafe raises his voice at you, making you stop. He's never yelled at you, not once.

You choke on your sobs as you see the blood all over Rafe's shirt, then all over your own. He buckles you in and closes your door, then rushes around the truck.

"Don't think this makes us even, Rafe Cameron!" Barry yells from the porch. Rafe flips Barry off and then gets into the truck, starting it and speeding off without buckling himself.

"Rafe, stop!" you yell, "I can't leave him there! He's all alone!"

"This is what he wanted!" Rafe yells back at you, stepping further down on the gas pedal.

"I don't care, I don't want him to be alone!" you cry, reaching for the door handle.

Rafe locks the doors and puts child lock on, preventing you from flinging out of the truck. You bang your fist on the window as he does, leaving a blood stain there.

"Rafe!" you look over and scream at him again.

He gets so frustrated he pulls the truck off the path and sets it in park, then turns to you. He grabs onto both of your wrists and holds them down.

"Calm the fuck down, right now," he demands, "Calm down."

You sit back in the seat and do as you're told, but your tears still fall. JJ just gave his life up to save yours, and Rafe doesn't seem to care at all.

"You need to understand that my only priority back there was to keep you safe. I'm sorry about JJ, baby, I am, but staying would've only put you in more danger."

You shake your head at him, almost as if you're disgusted. You let out a sob and then try to wipe your eyes, only smearing JJ's blood on your face. He reaches over and grabs your cheek, pulling you to look at him.

"I'm going to go back there and get his body. You can say goodbye to him. I'm gonna pay off Barry and never go back there. But I'm going to protect you first, do you understand?"

You nod your head under his touch, letting out another sob as soon as you try to breathe in. Rafe brings his hands down to your hips and pulls you toward him, over the console and into his lap.

"Come here," he whispers gently, tucking his arms around you and holding you close.

He knows you're a mess right now and there's blood all over his truck, but he doesn't care. He just wants you to calm down.

"Rafe," you sob, not knowing what else to say. His shirt becomes soaked with tears quickly.

"I know," he tells you softly, "I know."

"He saved me," you say, more just processing what happened, "Oh, my God, he's dead because of me."

"Shh," Rafe hushes you, his heart feeling like it's breaking in two as he listens to you, "It's not your fault. None of this is. Just calm down for me, baby."

Your hands come up and wrap around the back of Rafe's neck as you nuzzle your nose into the front of it. He brings one hand up to stroke through your hair, trying to relax you.

"We're okay," he soothes, his other hand rubbing your back, "Everything's okay."

You two sit there for a while, Rafe just rubbing on you and calming you down, until eventually, you start to come to terms with what happened. He's thankful you're no longer hysterical.

"Let's go get you cleaned up," Rafe whispers against your head once he feels you relax against him.

You pull back and look him in the eyes, feeling his hand come up to wipe blood from your cheek.

"You'll go back and get him?" you confirm.

Rafe nods, "Yes, of course."

You nod your head and then bring your hand up to his cheek the same way he had on yours, observing how soft his skin is. You think about what Barry told you about them both loving you, and how he later told you that you love them both.

"Rafe?" you ask, your voice nasally from all the crying and screaming, "Can I ask you a question?"

Rafe nods, loving the feeling of your skin on his. It relaxes him, makes him feel complete.

"Barry told me he thinks you're in love with me," you say quietly, leaving out the part about JJ.

You watch as Rafe nervously swallows, and then nods his head ever so slightly. You feel your heart swell, not knowing Rafe Cameron could ever make you feel that way.

"It's true?" you ask him, searching around in his eyes for any kind of doubt. There is none.

"Yeah," Rafe barely whispers.

"Oh," you say, watching Rafe's expression change to hurt as you glance away.

He's sure you don't feel the same. When you look up at him again, he's staring intensely at you.

"Is it okay that I love you, too?" you ask him, voice fragile.

Rafe smiles slightly, then watches as you smile too.

"Yeah," he repeats, but with more authority this time.

He leans his head down and then hesitates, making you hesitate as well. You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him down to you. His lips make yours feel like they're on fire as they move together. He reaches up and grabs your cheeks, holding you to him. He pulls away after about a minute, staring at you in full adoration.

"I'm so sorry about today," he tells you, keeping his grip on your face, "I will never put you in any danger like that ever again."

You nod your head slowly, "I know that."

Rafe smiles down at you, bringing one hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"Let's go get you a shower," he says softly.

He doesn't make you get back in your seat, however. He just tightens his grip around you and puts the car in drive again, allowing you to hold onto him while he drives. It almost reminds you of being on the bike with Barry this morning. But instead of being completely disgusted, you're completely in love.

[bokebelle]

aot boys + their kid asks them why you call him daddy

WARNINGS: use of the word "mommy" or "mama", kids, implication of a daddy kink, a little suggestive

CHARACTERS: eren yeager, levi ackerman, jean kirstein

TAGS: fluff

A/N: this was an impulse write so this hasn't been proof-read. there are a ton of ones like these but i couldn't find ones i've read before to link them but yeah i was inspired by those. i'll link them if i find them though. also yes i hc them all to be girl dads.

happy father's day to your dads, moms, and all the "father" figures in your lives <3

reblog if u want to call ur fave daddy/mommy 🤩

EREN - "good morning, baby" eren smiles when he sees you and your daughter in the kitchen. your daughter runs up to Eren and tugs on his sweatpants to get his attention. "daddy, is mommy your baby too?". Eren smiles as he picks her up. "of course mommy is. mommy was my baby before you became our baby." he sends a loving smile and a wink your way. "is that why mommy calls you daddy at night too?". you and eren stare at each other, too shocked to know what to do. "um, well, you see baby..." Eren stumbles over his words trying to figure out what to say, his own cheeks turning pink. "hey baby, since it's father's day, wanna help make pancakes for daddy?" you ask, sparing your husband from further embarrassment. you daughter cheers as you two start cooking. "thank you sweetheart." eren kneels down to place a kiss on your daughter's cheeks before he wraps his arms around your waist. he kisses your shoulder, mumbling "you're too good to me."

LEVI - "go on, i don't think he can hear us" Levi smirks at the quiet whispers between you and your daughter, continuing to pretend he can't hear you two. "happy father's day!" he turns around when he hears your greeting, seeing his daughter practically run straight into his arms. "give daddy your surprise." Levi's eyes soften when your daughter gives him a homemade card. "thank you, I love it." and his heart warms when he sees joy in his little girl's eyes that mirror his own. "daddy?" "yes my love?" "why does mama call you daddy too?" she asks out of nowhere. You stared at Levi and your daughter in shock, but Levi paid you no mind, keeping his eyes on his little girl. "because I'm daddy. and I call them mama too. Isn't that right mama?" Levi looked your way, 'go along with it' written in his eyes. "That's absolutely right, daddy." "mama, daddy, can I watch TV?" "Of course sweetheart." your daughter gleefully runs to the the living room, leaving you alone with your husband. "I told you not to be too loud." you giggle a bit before replying. "sorry, daddy" before Levi could say anything else, you leave him and join your daughter. he hears you two talking about the show on tv and as giggles fills his ears, he truly wonders how he got so lucky.

JEAN - he felt one poke on his cheek. then a second. when the third poke came a little harder, he opened his eyes and saw a little girl with features that looked like his, but a smile that reminded him of you, sitting on his chest. "happy father's day papa!" she squealed, throwing her tiny arms around his neck. you stirred beside them, trying to keep the blanket over your body, still bare from last nights....activities. "happy father's day papa" you mumble as sleep still hazed your mind, repeating your daughter's words. your daughter was quiet for a moment before she spoke up again, this time to you. "you said papa, but why did you call papa 'daddy' last night?" you immediately bolt up, still holding on to the blanket. your eyes are wide as you look at jean, who's blushing furiously, for help. "you know how confused your mama gets sometimes, princess. remember when the cookies you two made were salty because they had salt instead of sugar?" your daughter giggles at the memory, seemingly satisfied with that answer, she climbs down the bed and runs out of your bedroom. "confused? really?" you lightly slap jean's chest when he lays back down to hold you just a bit longer before you two had to get up. "now our daughter is gonna think i'm an idiot." jean chuckles before placing a kiss onto your forehead. "i'm sorry sweetheart. I'll make it up to you." "how?" jean stays silent before kissing you again, this time on the lips. "I can either make you breakfast, or make another baby with you. don't worry i won't tell them you're an idiot this time. they'll never know."

tagging: @fiaficsxo @erwinslut @lemvis @odmlevis @oblxvion @bakugohoex @dukina @enby-bpd @armins-futon @ereh-simp @tetsunormous @lazyezstudy

fill up the form if you wanna be part of the taglist

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

[bakusquad-assemble]

Can I request a Sero x reader/Bakusquad x reader who is dealing with a panic attack after Class 1A deals with yet another villain. Also no rush and I absolutely love your writing!

Aw, thank you so so much! I love being able to write for you! I also love all the love Sero gets on this blog, I’m not sure I do his character justice but damn we love to see it. No warnings on this one, just some sweet comfort and fluff. Hope you enjoy!

The sound of blaring sirens pierced through the night sky, dark and cold save for the flashing red lights that illuminated the students of class 1A. They sat huddled close together, blankets pulled tightly around their shoulders in attempts to bring them some semblance of comfort. It seemed as if your class was a target for misfortune, like the group of students were always in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you were being honest with yourself, the fear of the evil lurking around the corner at any given moment was really starting to get to you. You all somehow managed to escape each attack relatively unscathed, except for a few cuts and bruises that would heal in time, but you were still shaken to your core every time and couldn’t find the strength to keep it down any longer. You’re not quite sure when you started crying, letting the salty tears soak down your blood stained cheeks, but you didn’t even attempt to quell them. You let them consume you, wracking your body with sobs in hopes that it would bring you some solace. Instead you felt your body tremble, your stomach churning with all of the fear that you had kept down for far too long. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you whimpered out involuntarily, in hopes that no one would shift their attention to you.

That hope was shattered almost immediately though as the tall black haired boy who sat next to you straightened his back at attention. He had heard you take in a sharp breath, and upon locking eyes with your form he found his heart dropping in his chest like it was attached to a ton of weights; sinking to the bottom of a treacherous sea with ease. Hanta Sero has had a crush on you for some time now. There was just something about you he found so enticing, like a magnetic force was constantly surrounding you and pulling him in every time he wandered too close. You were best friends, constantly sharing laughs and inside jokes in the hallways at school, or having deep conversations late at night in the dorm common rooms. He cared about you so deeply, and seeing you like this; covered in your own tears and blood and shaking in fear, made him sick to his stomach. He was quick to act, his large hand reaching out for the small of your back to lend you consolation, but when you jumped back from him he quickly pulled away and put his hands up in the most non threatening way he could muster. You hadn’t meant to react like that to Sero’s touch, in fact, you craved his warmth more than ever right now. You wanted nothing more than to be engulfed by his comforting embrace as he whispered his latest horrible joke into your ear- managing to pull a laugh from your salty and cracked lips, but your body was on high alert after tonight. Luckily, Sero understood completely.

“Hey, it’s okay! It’s just me.” He reassured, his hands still up in the air in attempts to show you he meant no harm. He offered a sweet smile, despite feeling that same fear that overtook you, and you felt your body relax ever so slightly. You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the sleeves of your sweatshirt as the tears continued to spill like rushing waterfalls.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” you choked out, voice barely audible among the commotion that surrounded the two of you, but Sero heard you clear as day. He could see everything he needed to know written in your pinched expression. You were petrified, and he was going to do everything in his power to make you feel better.

“Woah, hey! don’t apologize!” Sero started, cautiously moving his hands down in front of him and reaching out for one of your hands,trying his best to read your expressions as he did so. You didn’t pull away and he delicately wrapped his large hand in your smaller one, his thumb rubbing comforting circles atop your soft skin. He felt his cheeks heat up as he realized he’s never really touched you this intimately before. He tried his best to shake the sensation, and was thankful for the dark night sky for hiding the flush that consumed his features.

“Nothings wrong with you, y/n! I think we’re all a bit shaken up after that and it’s totally normal to be upset.”

The remnants of the dam that you had been holding up broke at Sero’s words, and suddenly you were sobbing uncontrollably and throwing yourself into his arms. The choked noises of anguish gained the attention of some classmates nearby, but you didn’t notice, nor care. You were lost in your own thoughts, in the fear of what could have happened, and the only thing keeping you grounded was Seros arms wrapping tightly around your torso and pulling you in against his chest. He brought the comforting circular motions to your back in efforts to soothe you while he rested his chin comfortably on the top of your head. If you were a bit more aware of your surroundings, perhaps you’d have noticed the way Sero’s heartbeat ran rampant in his chest, or the way his hands got clammy with nerves on your low back, but instead your mind lulled it out.

It was Kaminari’s voice that permeated the air first, though you kept your head situated in Sero’s chest, finding refuge in his closeness.

“Oh man, are they okay?” Kaminari stood awkwardly in front of the two of you, pulling his blanket snuggly over his shoulders to keep it from falling to the ground. Sero’s only response was to pull you in tighter and shake his head. Kaminari sighed out, his voice wavering as if he had just gotten over crying himself. You couldn’t help but look up from the confines of Sero’s chest just a bit, eyebrows pinched up in curiosity.

“Mind if I join you guys? Mineta isn’t exactly the best company in a time like this.” He tried to keep his voice light and playful, shooting your newly emerged face a warm smile. Kaminari didn’t wait for a response,however; instead picking the unoccupied spot next to you and squeezing in tight, enjoying the comfort the closeness brought him.

“Mineta is never good company, Bro. He’s a little scumbag” Sero quipped, sending a smile the electric boy's way. Kaminari chuckled, shrugging defeatedly.

“Hey! he can be funny sometimes!”

“I think that makes you a little scumbag too, dude. ”

You felt your throat stutter as you let out a breathy laugh. It came out choked and water logged, but it was a sweet little laugh nonetheless. Both of their expressions lit up, looking at each other before moving their eyes down to you, shocked by the sweet sound escaping your lips. Sero smiled widely, pulling you in just a bit tighter as he felt your shoulders get lighter. These boys always knew how to pull it out of you, and despite the fear still bubbling deep inside, their playful banter had you feeling kind of normal again.

“Woah, hey! Why didn’t we get an invite to the “we almost died but we didn’t and we still kickin it somehow” snuggle fest? Move over! I need some!” Minas voice was perky per usual, but even you could detect the hints of worry laced between each syllable. She was just able to use her personality to hide it well, something you had never been more envious of than right now. You straightened your back, pulling away from Sero to get a better view of the rest of your friends approaching. You tried your best to wipe your face free of any remnants of your breakdown, though seemingly impossible with the current state you were in. Mina was pulling Kirishima along behind her by the hand, keeping him close for comfort reasons you figured, and a certain scowling blonde wasn’t too far behind. It was as if he was tethered to the redhead, following against his will and dissatisfied with his new change of scenery, yet he continued to follow with a pout and his arms crossed heavily over his chest. After knowing bakugou for so long, though. His demeanor didn’t shake you, nor did his booming tone as he spoke up above the noise.

“The hell you all whining for? Some hero’s you are for being afraid of some lowlife discount villains that couldn’t even kill a bunch of high schoolers!” Kirishima nudged Bakugou hard, causing him to shoot the red haired boy an evil glare. It didn’t shake Kirishima though, he just shook his head at his blonde best friend.

“Read the room, Bakubro. We’re all kinda messed up about it. Even the manliest people get scared sometimes, you should know. ” Bakugou clicked his tongue in frustration, dropping onto the ground with a thud and pulling his knee up to rest his arm on it.

“I’d never be scared by some shitty ass villains and neither should you! They didn’t stand a chance against us! You’re all alive so stop complaining” Bakugou had locked eyes with you, and deep down you knew this was his makeshift way of trying to cheer you up. His way to remind you how strong you were, despite the tears and snot that ran down your face. You nodded softly to him, a faint smile ghosting your lips, and he quickly averted his gaze to anywhere but you. Mumbling something under his breath that you couldn’t quite make out but appreciated nonetheless. You watched Kirishima take a spot of the ground near Kaminari, and Mina dropped to her knees in front of you, her eyes welling with the same tears that plagued yours. Her smile was gentle, caring, and it made you feel safe. Safe despite everything that had happened to all of you just a few hours earlier. In fact, just being surrounded by your friends filled you with a sense of comfort that you didn’t expect yourself to find. You weren’t sure if it was simply their presence, or if it was the puffy eyes and wordless smiles of understanding that laid hidden on their expressions.

“You alright, baby?” Mina asked, her soft and well manicured hands coming to rest on your soaked cheeks. And despite it all, you nodded. The tiny smile still ever present on your face. Because for the first time tonight, you were reminded that no matter how hard things get, no matter how many villains tried to tear you down, you would always have your friends to pick you back up- to put a smile on your face with ease when you felt just minutes prior that you may never smile again. You could never thank them enough.

“Yeah, I will be.”

[meltwonu]

| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 |     [Chapter 1] 

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, dom!wonwoo, dirty talk, masturbation, sex toys, mentions of sexting/sending photos/videos, baby this has hella plot lmao dkhf 🥴💕 WELCOME TO UNTIL I MET YOU!! THE MINI-SEQUEL TO CAFFEINE! A bit of a shorter chapter but I didn’t want to overload with too much everything in the first chapter, ykwim? 😎 Thank you so much for your patience with this sequel, I know there were a ton of people asking for a sequel for months after I said I would 💕😭😭 As always, inbox roundup tomorrow! And don’t forget, next chapter for UIMY goes up on Feb 26th! T|H ch 1 next Friday! 🥰💕 Enjoy ch 1, have a great weekend and I love you! 💕

chapters; 1 - x - x - x - x

“Mmh… Wonwoo…”

His hands roam all over your naked body; warmth spreading all over when he digs his blunt fingernails into the skin of your waist.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Did you miss me, sweetheart?” His voice is soft, gentle, yet teasing; barely above a whisper as your back bows off of the bed to lean into his simple touches. “I missed you, sweetheart. Missed your ‘lil cunt too.”

A choked sob falls from your lips, followed quickly by rushed, hurried cries for Wonwoo to move faster.

“Don’t you want me to take my time? We haven’t seen each other in months.” 

There’s a smirk on his lips, eyes twinkling with mischief when you reply back with a shaky whine. “Don’t you want me to slide my cock into your pretty ‘lil pussy nice ‘n slow? Let you feel every inch of me filling you up, just like it’s the first time all over again.” He stares at you dreamily; fixated on the way your body chases his hands when he drags them down to your thighs. “Or would you prefer it if I fucked you hard and fast? Your cute body squirming and trembling from how good I give it to you and my cock slamming into your tight ‘lil cunt.”

Wonwoo’s fingertips spread your folds as he licks his lips; appreciating how wet you already were for him.

“Bet your toys don’t feel as good as the real thing, huh?”

You shake your head ‘no’ furiously, “N-no, god, no! Wonwoo, p-please!” The male grins down at you, pouting mockingly at your desperate, pleading eyes. 

The wetness between your legs is unbearable and the sobs are caught in your throat when Wonwoo leans over you, lips ghosting across your own.

“Okay. Just say--”

You’re shocked awake by your alarm clock; chest heaving in deep breaths as you sit up in your crumpled sheets. “Oh, fuck...” Groaning, your clammy palms reach for the ringing device as you shut it off and sigh.

The clock reads 10:02AM; tired eyes trying to blink away the sleep that threatens to take you back to the dreamland you much preferred. Although, dreaming about Wonwoo was becoming a little bit too common these last few days.

Sighing once more, you move to get out of bed; already finding your panties soaking wet and sticking to you like a second skin when you stand.

“Ugh... Damn it.”

You press the vibrator harder onto your clit; teeth chattering with the pleasure that pours over your body.

“Oh, god, please, p-please…”

Images of Wonwoo dance behind your eyelids; sultry smirks and teasing glances bringing you closer and closer to the edge of an orgasm.

If there was anything that the last few months without Wonwoo taught you, it was that you couldn’t afford to lose him - in more ways than one. And despite his lack of calls or even text messages, you held out in hopes he still felt the same way that you did despite the distance.

You sent him pictures and videos of yourself often; teasing images half naked, toys in hand, and videos crying out his name while you came. And while he took the time to reply to those with praise and adoration, he almost never sent anything back. 

When he did, it was always short, clipped replies of how exhausted he was and how he didn’t have much time.

“Ngh, h-harder…” Your toes curl against the bedsheet; phantom feelings of his cock fucking you hard and deep making you cry out in desperation to be filled by his cock.

Your phone rings on the nightstand next to you as you cum - vibrator pressed so hard against your clit that your back bows off of the sheets while your thighs shake uncontrollably. 

And for the first time in a long time, it’s an orgasm that feels like it’s worth something.

‘Gyu: hey did wonwoo text u?

‘Gyu: he’s back next monday he said

‘Gyu: idk abt classes tho, might be out of commission for a while bc jetlag

‘Gyu: thinking abt throwing him a party on friday after he comes back...

‘Gyu: u wanna plan with us orrrrr? U got a private party or sth 🥴😏

‘Gyu: lmk

You’re nervous. Shy, even.

After you’d come down from your orgasm and checked your phone, your mind momentarily went blank from shock and the first thing you’d done was text Wonwoo to ask if he was really coming back that soon.

‘Ah, yeah, I was just about to text you. Prof said we can go home early if we wanted since we finished up classes. I’ll see you sometime next week? Jetlag and stuff.’, was all he had said and in your excited state, the only thing you had responded with was an, ‘Okay, great!’, without asking when, where, or what time.

You figured you’d give him some time to readjust instead of bombarding him as soon as he got in. But each second that you knew Wonwoo was home, you found yourself itching to just be in his presence.

You just had to be a little more patient.

Wednesday morning comes and you find yourself skipping your morning class to go to the library.

For studying, you tell yourself.

The male at the receptionist table shoots you a small smile to which you awkwardly smile back before ducking into an empty aisle. All you knew was that it seemed like Wonwoo wasn’t here.

Maybe he’s still at the frat house, you wonder.

Sighing slightly under your breath, you decide that maybe getting some work done would actually help distract you from looking for the male.

You find an empty table, setting your things down before pulling out your phone. 

In all honesty, you weren’t even sure why you were being so shy and nervous about contacting Wonwoo, especially when you so unabashedly sent him nudes every few days when he was away. 

Although, with how things had been before he left and the prospect of actually dating once he came back from his semester abroad - the butterflies in your stomach had been nonstop with the different scenarios that played out in your head. You’d even gone so far as to plan what happened if Wonwoo had decided he didn’t want to make an attempt at dating you.

“Sweetheart?”

The grip you have on your phone only tightens as you whip your head around to find Wonwoo standing behind your chair and you swear your heart stops beating the same time your breath gets caught in your throat. “H-huh?”

He smiles gently down at you and you can’t help but wonder how long you were spaced out to not notice him there. 

“Is this a dream too?” You wonder aloud - Wonwoo chuckling in response as he moves to collect your things for you.

“Have you been dreaming about me that much, sweetheart?” You stutter and stumble over your words; embarrassment eating at you every second that Wonwoo has a knowing smile plastered on his lips.

“C’mon, let’s go get something to eat since we both know you’re not really here to study.”

The version of Wonwoo that sits across the cafe table is… different.

Not bad, just different.

His arms are much tanner and definitely more muscular and the glasses missing from his face lets you appreciate his eyes even more when they’re not hidden behind the thick frames. He had even opted to wear a sleeveless shirt; something that you weren’t used to when he usually was around campus in long sleeves and sweater vests.

Although, you can’t and won’t deny the way your body reacts to this Wonwoo.

“Hey, I’m talking to you and you’re just spacing out.” Muttering, he leans over the small cafe table until his face is only inches away from yours and the smirk on his lips already lets you know that you’ve been caught staring.

“Listen, I know I’ve been gone for three months but you’re lookin’ at me like you haven’t had a fix in all that time.” Your lips press into an embarrassed firm line, avoiding his stare as he raises a brow at you.

“Wait, you didn’t fuck anyone in the three months I was gone?”

“No… did you?” Your voice is barely above a whisper; a little afraid that his answer will be ‘yes’ when he takes a second longer to respond.

“Nah,” He settles back into his seat, “I told you, didn’t I? I was willing to try the whole… dating, relationship thing with you when I got back. Although, I’m somewhat surprised one of the others didn’t try to seduce you while I was gone.”

You laugh slightly, cheeks warm as Wonwoo teases. “I wouldn’t have given them the time of day anyway.”

Your entire body burns hot, palms clammy in your lap from how giddy you were to be with Wonwoo and it made your heart do backflips knowing that he’d still been willing to try with you.

“Ah, how was it abroad anyway? You… didn’t really say much over the past few months so I feel like I don’t know how you were. Just some messages about how tired you were...” He takes a sip of his coffee; unintentionally making you internally scream when his lips form a pout while he thinks.

“Honestly? Other than the days we were excavating ‘n stuff, it was pretty boring. Really hectic though, and a lot of documenting which meant a lot of paperwork. I swear, I closed my eyes and I saw the inside of my textbooks.” He chuckles lightly, eyes focused on the cup of coffee in front of him.

“I just want to say sorry for my lack of communication. I really didn’t expect to be so busy that I couldn’t even pick up a call.” There’s a genuine apologetic look on Wonwoo’s face when he looks back at you. “And the time difference was really rough too. I didn’t want to take it out on you over the phone if I was stressed about not sleeping or the workload. I know we can get a little rough when we ‘play’ but this wasn’t that and it wouldn’t have been fair.”

Oh.

“T-that’s okay, I understand!” Your heart does somersaults in your chest, “I--thank you for thinking about me too.”

The feelings you have bubbling up inside of you make you feel like you’re falling in love for the first time, all over again. “Um… Sorry I sent so many pictures ‘n stuff.”

Wonwoo laughs, this time throwing his head back slightly before he tries to hide his wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t apologize.” Your eyes meet his and for a split second, you see the familiar dominating look in his eyes before he leans over the small cafe table again.

“I might’ve not had all the time to entertain you those times but I thought about you alllll the time. I missed everything about you.” His voice is barely above a whisper - careful to not let anyone else in the cafe hear the topic of conversation. “Which, by the way…You piqued my interest earlier with your question. You never really answered my question about having dreams about me.”

You shift in your seat as you avert your eyes from his; eyes flitting down his toned body instead as you mentally curse yourself.

“I… kinda? I m-mean… not normally but just--just these last few days. It’s almost been every night… I wake up and--and it’s just… I’m...” You trail off; somewhat shy to say the rest of what you were going to say even though you’re almost certain Wonwoo already knows.

“Odd. Me too. I kept dreaming about you, which is, honestly, kind of why I thought to come back earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, we still had 2 weeks left, technically. A bit of a spillover since my professor wanted us to explore the city once finals were over. But I just wanted to come home.” He finishes with a chuckle - a soft look in his eyes.

You pout back at him, “You didn’t come home early just for ‘lil ‘ol me, did you?” You say it jokingly, but deep down you do wonder.

“Would that be so bad?” Grinning, Wonwoo sets a couple of bills down onto the table to cover the meals you both barely have touched.

“Like I said, I missed everything about you, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo walks you back to your place afterwards; laughing and joking with you as if he hadn’t been gone for the last 3 months. 

There’s a certain playfulness about him that makes your heart bloom and part of you wonders if he’s opening up to you more now that there’d been some time apart.

“Are you gonna be working at the library again? Or is that done forever now?” “Mm.. I mean, it’d be kind of weird if I stopped, don’t you think?”

The grin of his face is telling and you have to mentally stop yourself from letting your mind wander in the middle of the sidewalk. “Y-yeah... Studying in my apartment isn’t really the same, y’know…”

Laughing, Wonwoo takes the opportunity to swing an arm around your shoulder as he tucks you under his arm. “I was actually at the library earlier to ask about my position back. I start tomorrow.” Goosebumps rise on your skin and the close proximity is enough to make you whimper.

“I’m only taking two classes this semester to give myself a bit of a break so I’ll be in the library more often to fill up the time. You can always call me if you need to know where I am. I promise I’ll respond this time, sweetheart.”

Before you know it, the two of you are already standing outside of your complex as Wonwoo takes his arm off of you.

“Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” There’s a hopeful lilt to his voice that has you nodding feverishly in return.

“I have a morning class but I’ll come by in the afternoon? I can text you to let you know, just in case.” You offer back.

Wonwoo licks his lips, tilting his head before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead.

The soft gesture momentarily throws you off as you freeze but the smoldering look in Wonwoo’s eyes when he pulls away lets you know that he’s already scheming.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sweetheart.”