#so sometimes he sneaks out of bed to call her

[desertduality]

Trustfall

Ao3

Just a little thing I wrote to explore the Jimmy and Scar dynamic. Set loosely after session two. Enjoy! <3

Night comes, and Scar can't hide from his feelings anymore. They catch up to him - like everything does, eventually. Scar can never run fast enough.

He's on another mountain, this one green and pink and bright, bordered by tall shoots of bamboo and topped with cherry blossom trees, decorated with growing wheat fields and pens that - sometimes - house sheep and cows. It's all so... alive. So beautiful. So fragile.

The beauty of it is not the surprising part. It's not even that he spent the better part of the day eating dirt or leaves or shovels. No, the strangest thing on the mountain is the people. The strangest thing about them is that they're there at all. With Scar. On purpose.

He can't quite figure it out. The why of it. Jimmy had made it look so easy to say he would stay, like he couldn't think of a million reasons not to. And then Lizzie, who he had invited, and then still been surprised to see her there when he got back. They do it without obligation. Scar had almost forgotten what that felt like.

Neither of them are tethered to him by fate or bound by an oath. They're just there, bright and silly and constant. He'd had something close to it, once, with the allies he'd jokingly called his family, but that had been... messy.

Jimmy and Lizzie make caring about him feel like something simple.

Tell me about your theme park idea, Lizzie had said, and he had. He'd braced himself for- for something. For dismissal. For a roll of the eyes.

A good theme park has three things. Lizzie had mused instead. We need rides, decorations, and a mascot. I think one of us here has real mascot energy.

Jimmy's face had lit up. Lizzie had built three birds at the entrance to their base, standing proudly. Scar stares at them now, shadowy figures in the dark. They're a team. And as much as Lizzie jokes and groans about what a handful the two of them are, they're still equals. They understand each other. Lizzie knows what it's like to be alone, overlooked. Jimmy knows what it's like to be seen as a burden, a joke.

Somehow, despite everything, they trust each other. It's terrifying.

"Stargazing?"

Scar jumps at the voice, a quiet yelp escaping his throat before he can stop it. He twists his torso to look, a jerky motion, and lays eyes on Jimmy, who seems a bit apologetic. "Ah, sorry-"

"Geez, Jimmy, oh my god," Scar says through wheezing breaths, hand pressed to his chest. "This is the life series, man, you can't sneak up on- on a man in thought!"

"Right, sorry, sorry," Jimmy continues, laughing a little bit. "Thought you heard me walk over."

Jimmy sits down next to him, clothes rumpled from bed. It's quiet, fireflies blinking and crickets chirping in the distance. The moon is nearly full, high in the sky. It's early enough in the game that a full nights sleep is still an option. And yet-

"Couldn't sleep?" Jimmy asks, tone light but genuine.

"Oh, you know," Scar says, humming. "Stomach ache. Dirt doesn't agree with me. Who knew?"

"Yeah, glad that one's over." Jimmy stretches his legs out in front of him. "Think I chipped a tooth. I'm billing Grian."

Scar laughs quietly, mindful of Lizzie snoring just a few yards away. That's another thing he's not quite used to: sleeping with others nearby. It's comforting. He's afraid he'll get used to it.

They sit in silence for a while, comfortable and secure. Their frankly absurd amount of bamboo rustles in the gentle wind, cherry blossom petals perpetually raining down around them. It's the kind of perfect peace that has Scar waiting on the other shoe to drop.

"...What was winning like?" Jimmy asks eventually, voice soft.

"...I don't know," Scar says. "It didn't really feel like winning. It was kind of just, like. Sad."

"Sad?"

"Yeah." Scar sighs, leaning back to look at the stars. "I thought it might make me feel better, to just- to prove that I could."

Jimmy hums like he's really listening, like he understands, and Scar... Something settles. Something that has been flinching for a very long time goes still.

"I was tired of being alone," he admits. "Still am. I end up that way a lot."

"Not this time," Jimmy says, a lopsided smile on his face. "Not on my watch."

He places a comforting hand on Scar's shoulder. Grounding. Real.

Oh, Scar thinks. This is what it's like to have something to lose.

"You sure it's not too early to say that?" Scar asks, half teasing. "You might be running for the hills a week from now. I'm not- I'm not an easy teammate."

"Hey, me neither, pal." Jimmy nudges him, smile a bit jagged at the edges. "I'm known for dying early. I've got issues with longevity."

"They make medicine for that."

"Wh- Scar!"

Scar doubles over, wheezing uncontrollably. Jimmy follows helplessly, in a way that almost sounds painful. It continues for a while, until Lizzie makes a small noise in her sleep, and the two of them choke back their laughter to something manageable, tapering back into silence. Scar feels... happy. He feels happy. It's...

"How about you?" Scar asks. "Anything you want to get off your chest? Just between us. And the giant parrot statues."

"Ehh, I don't know," Jimmy says playfully, eying the parrots suspiciously. "I don't know if I trust 'em."

"And me?"

"You?" Jimmy glances sideways at him, eyes light and honest. "Of course. We're the Bam Boys."

Trust is something that Scar had thought he'd killed a long time ago. Jimmy offers it anyway. It's like a lighthouse in a storm. The sun to a flower. Water in a desert.

Trust. Just this once, Scar vows not to break it.

"So," Scar says, like nothing just happened. "Anything?"

Jimmy exhales shakily, looking away, down at his hands. There's dirt under his fingernails. Scar waits.

"I don't want to die first," Jimmy says, a faint tone of embarrassment in his voice. "I know it's like, a thing, but I really..."

Canary, they call him. A creature whose purpose is to die.

Scar knows a thing or two about unwanted titles. He sometimes feels like the role of Villain is still branded onto his skin, with the way some people look at him.

I don't want to die, cries the Canary, but the miner only pays attention when the singing stops.

"You won't," Scar says, as close to a promise as he can get. "Not this time. Not on my watch."

Jimmy grins crookedly, something relieved at the corners of his eyes. "That right?"

"That's right."

They go back to bed.

[therighthandofvengeance]

Please, David. Please go to sleep. Please.

[deathsmallcaps]

Here is her btw. On here she is my darling babygirl Squishface

I'm technically a prophet but the prophecies are presented to me in a language I can neither speak nor fundamentally fathom. so I just circle back to basically being normal

[tbaluver]

The Love And DeepSpace Men- Boyfriend Headcanons + Scenarios/ Imagines Pt. 2

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader requested: myself bc i craved writing something sweet genre: perhaps tooth rotting fluff fluff warnings: none unless you want cavities a/n: every day i wish they were real and every day i have a lads brain rot and i would gatekeep these ideas but i would never so here ya go ! lmk if i should write more of these ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა enjoy reading ! first part is here if you haven't read it! Pt.1 any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The type of boyfriend who will finish your food whenever you can't finish it. He'll let you eat his food even when you say you're not hungry or you don't want anything. If the food he gets isn't something you would want, he'll make sure to buy something for you even if you say you don't want it.

You can expect his hand to always sneak into your lap when you lay in bed together after a long day. Gently embracing your lower stomach and whispering sweet nothings into your ear before you both fall asleep.

If you can't sleep, he'll try to join you for midnight snacks and watch whatever's on TV. He's trying his best to stay awake but you can already see him dozing off, clutching the stuffed plushie you won at the arcade.

Scenario:

You two sat on the soft grass, surrounded by a blanket of stars that painted the dark canvas of the night sky, eagerly waiting for the shooting stars to streak by.

"Xavier do you have anything in mind for what you're going to wish for?"

He turns to you, his gaze softening and a gentle smile spreads across his face. "I don't need to wish for anything else if my wish has already come true- I'm looking right at her."

Zayne:

He keeps all the little trinkets you've given him by his nightstand at home and his desk at work. That way when he wakes up you're the first thing on his mind, not that you left his mind in the first place. Each time he glances at them, he's flooded with happy memories and filled with anticipation to return to your embrace.

The type of boyfriend who puts a blanket over you if you fall asleep on the couch and eventually carries you to your shared bed.

Puts a ridiculous amount of sugar in his coffee that kind of leaves you concerned for your lover's sweet tooth.

Scenario 1:

You two lay in bed together, enjoying the lazy morning, not wanting to get up as if doing so would mean the day truly had to begin. You trace the outlines of his bare chest, your fingers dancing over the area where his heart beats.

“What are you doing?” he asks curiously as he watches you glide your fingers gently around his chest.

“Finding your heart and seeing who lives there,”

He lets out a breathy chuckle, a smile curling on his lips. “No one is there right now.”

You frown at his response, a playful pout forming on your lips. He cups your cheek, finding your reaction to be amusing and adorable. “That’s because the owner of my heart is currently right in front of me.”

Scenario 2:

As Zayne rushes to get ready for an emergency call from the hospital, his glasses are perched on top of your head.

“Zayne, aren’t you forgetting something?” you hinted, leaning in for a goodbye kiss.

“Ah yes, thank you.” He retrieves his glasses and you mock a pout. But he leans down, brushing your lips with his with a sweet kiss, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “I love you. Please don’t stay up waiting for me again.”

Rafayel:

Sometimes he can be your boyfriend but sometimes he's also like your child from how much you baby him

He needs to be close to you at all times. The type of boyfriend who is all over you all the time. He needs to be close and touching you at all times. If you got hot from cuddling, he'll have either his hands or legs over your body because if you were apart for more than a second he thinks he might explode.

The boyfriend who stays up making something special for days and stays up overnight just to make it perfect just for you.

The type of boyfriend who adjusts your do not disturb on your phone so only his notification pops up whenever you're on do not disturb.

Imagine swimming in the ocean, you're enveloped in his embrace as you both gaze at the moonlight and stars above. He holds you close, resting his chin gently on the top of your head while you nestle your hand and head against his chest. It’s perfect like this. Just two of you near his homeland, the sea. Just him and you in your own world where you both find peace with the gentle sounds of the waves surrounding you both.

Sylus:

At the beginning of your relationship he redecorates his entire home so that you'll like it more and feel more inclined to stay over and stay the night at his place.

He only has a soft spot for you and only you. You see a side of him no one else does and not just that but his super silly side.

Sometimes he'll lift you onto the counter or lift you up to get what you need on a high shelf just because he wants to hold you.

The type of boyfriend who gets on his knees or sits down to be on the same level as you when you don't want to look up at him anymore. If he was sitting, he's definitely pulling you to his lap because you're not going to be the only one standing!

The type to hold all of your shopping bags and pure for you when you’re out shopping together. He does not complain about holding your purse at all, not that it would ever bother him in the first place. Also does not complain about holding all of your shopping bags, it’s literally light work for him and he would encourage you to buy more things of whatever you wanted.

Imagine after a long night at an auction, you two stumble back into your shared home not breaking the kiss. Your hands rest on Sylus’s neck, slowly sliding down as he murmurs sweet phrases against your lips. His strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you bridal style, guiding you both toward your shared bedroom.

[fabled-fiction]

Hiiii!! Can I request a hobie brown x fem reader where the hobie swings by the readers room and just cuddles with her because he’s tired from patrol and the reader loves it because he only has a soft spot for her! And it’s just very fluffy!

Open Window (Hobie Brown x Reader)

Summary: Hobie didn't realize how strung out he was until a certain someone crosses his mind.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: MINOR SPIDERMAN ACROSS THE SPIDERVERSE SPOILERS

A/N: I tried writing in a fem reader and then realized as I was writing I neglected that. I tried going back it but it felt forced, I hope this still suffices!

It felt like he never slept.

When could he afford too? It seemed like every step forward he took in taking down Osborn and his regime, they took three. Every running start he had they moved the finish line.

It was exhausting to be honest.

And now on top of his own problems on his earth, this stupid watch wouldn’t stop beeping with anomalies that needed taking down and tethering back to their Earths.

Hobie could feel the bags forming under his already painted ones.

His head had been reeling recently. Jumping back to his Earth after coming from the Spider Society was never easy no matter how much radioactivity was coursing through his hardened veins. He had a theory that despite having the wristband that helped him jump back and forth, he needed one for his head. The shift in perspective, and what could be perceived as art styles of the different Earths were making his vision hazy. 

Perching himself onto the top of a billboard, Hobie hit the side of his head with the edge of palm. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough or in the right spot he could knock the buzzing in his brain out long enough for him to make sense of where he was. 

On occasion it almost felt like he was back in that stupid spider tower, or another unfamiliar Earth.

Shaking his head, he took a glance about the neon lit streets of his Earth.

Wait, he recognized this street…no wait. No yea he recognized where this street lead to. 

Pulling the edge of his suit wristband back, he pulled up the time on his watch.

4:32:02am

Hobie knew exactly what he needed to rejuvenate, to put the rock back in his roll. 

Standing from his perch, he felt his bones begin to ache as they realized where they were about to be. Pulling his mask back over his head, he was about to flip when his watch started to buzz.

The holographic face of Gwen popped up.

“Hey! Hobie, Im glad I caught you. You got a seco-”

“Sorry Gwendy, can’t talk right now.”

“Wait! I n-”

He couldn't swing fast enough.

There was a warm purple light coming from your window, leaking through your curtains like a holy light.

He’d have to lecture you about leaving your window unlocked for anyone to crawl into later, it didn't matter that you were on the 14th story of your building. But as of right now, as he peeled your window open he saw it as a blessing as he tumbled head first into your room.

Hobie hadn’t realized how long it had been since he had seen you.His spider work had always been number one, taking down the rising regime of fascism in his city. Even the Spider society jobs have seen more of him than his own bed. It almost felt like he was more Spiderman than Hobie Brown, his heroism taking priority over everything else.

Well, almost everything else.

But now as he stumbled about, throwing his sneakers and guitar in the corner of your room the only thing on his mind was you. More specifically crawling into your bed that seemed to always be WAY more comfortable than his.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed you.

Hobie was so preoccupied with getting out of his Spidersuit that was growing increasingly more annoying by the second, he hadn’t even realized you were now leaning against your doorframe.

Sometimes you thought he played up these so called spider senses. There was no way he let you sneak up on him as many times as you have.

“Where..I know you ‘ave it somewhere in ‘ere.” He mumbled to himself, digging through your drawers with little regard to your neatly folded clothes there were already in there. 

Placing your cup of water on your nightstand, you perched on the edge of your bed and watched as your once clean-ish room transformed to match the thought process of the sleep deprived Spider in front of you.

You knew what he was looking for, Hobie had a tendency to leave shirts in your room whenever he stayed over. He said it was for convenience, it made it easier to switch from Spiderman to Hobie Brown. You couldn’t count the amount of times on your fingers when you had done laundry and realized nothing in the basket was yours. He almost had a full drawer in your dresser.

“Try the very bottom drawer.” You yawn, a few joints popping as you stretched out whatever you could stretch out.

Hobie turned his head to look at you for only a moment, and you hadnt even realized that he had discarded his mask somewhere into the clothed chaos that was hurricane Hobie.

Falling back onto your bed, you let out another big yawn as you made yourself situated. You could hear Hobie shuffling about your room, making himself more than at home as he slammed the window shut. A very loud click of your window lock followed by a thunk of a thwip made you chuckle.

“You seriously need to considah lockin’ your window. Could’a been an unsightly fella.” He muttered as he reached to fully close your curtains.

“Well I know who to call if I see one of these so called unsightly fellas.”

There was a grumble that came closer to your bed, and what you swore you was the gulping down of YOUR glass of water followed by the creak of your mattress.

It was like a second nature to the both of you even though you hadn’t physically seen eachother in what felt like months (in reality it was only a week but you too were too clingy to admit to each other it had felt longer). Molding into one another was easy for you too.

Hobie’s arm easily found its way over your waist, pulling you as close to him as he physically could. The minute he had his head resting on your chest he swore he could feel the color coming back to him. Feeling your hand run over his wicks, and eventually come to rest on the nape of his neck made him break into a hazy smile.

But then his stupid watch started buzzing. Didn’t he take it off?

He tried ignoring it for a moment, hoping whoever was calling him would get the message.

When you had started to pull away was when he had enough. 

Ripping the watch off his wrist, he threw it across the room and webbed it to a random wall. Before you could even protest that he had yet again left webbing that would take months to come off, he wrapped his arms around you and flipped around so that you were laying ontop of him. His arms basically locked around you, and solidified that you two would not be moving for the rest of the night.

He needed this, and he could tell based off the way that you melted into him that you needed this as well.

“Hobie shouldn’t you have answered that?”

He could deal with the consequences later, right now he was exactly where he needed to be.

“Nah.”

[zombvic]

hi, i love your writing can you do one where marc guiu is secretly dating lewandoski's daughter and he finds out?

MR LEWANDOWSKI (marc guiu x lewandowski!reader)

summary : in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate

face claim : no-one exact

notes : ty for the request !! im gonna do some requests asap (theres like twenty so plsplspls be patient <3) also im gonna go on vacation soon so ill be less active.

pairings : marc guiu x fem!lewandowski!reader

BEING THE DAUGHTER of the Polish striker, Robert Lewandowski, came with its perks. Some of the benefits was the opportunity to meet your favorite players, attend exclusive events, and see important matches, such as the World Cup and UCL Finals. But managing the constant media attention and living up to the Lewandowski name were only two of the challenges that came with it. The hardest challenge of them all was keeping your relationship with the Barcelona striker, Marc Guiu, a secret.

You knew dating Marc was going to make you slightly insane. The constant hiding and sneaking around was annoying, tbh.. But if you managed to keep this a secret for over seven months, you sure weren't going to fuck it up now.

Hector quickly caught onto your little facade. All three of you were classmates, and it was clear by the looks you exchanged across the classroom, the way Marc spoke to Hector about you, and just the overall way he admired you. Hector was certain you were dating.

Him knowing would actually come in handy. It was a little easier to keep the secret when Hector was on your side. When needed, he helped cover for you by coming up with excuses in case your dad was on the edge of figuring things out.

One afternoon, while your father was out, Marc came over to your house. It was a unique chance for the two of you to have the house to yourselves, and you both wanted to make the most of it.

You were in your room, cuddling on your bed with Marc as a movie was playing on your laptop. It was relaxing, finally a moment of comfort without any worries or the anxiety of getting caught.

"This is nice," Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I wish we could do this more often."

"Me too," you replied, pulling in closer to him. "But you're aware of my dad's history with my ex-boyfriends. If he found out, he would freak out."

Marc sighed as he played with the strings on your hoodie. "I know. Yet, sometimes I picture us going out on a typical date night. No concerns about your father catching us. You know maybe if he got used to our relationship, he could come along."

Playfully poking Marc with your shoulder, you mocked, "Are you using me to date my father?"

Marc gave you a gentle giggle and an amused look as his eyes met yours. "Maybe I am," he answered. "But in all honesty, I just want to go out with you—no sneaking around, just a regular 'I'll have her home by nine, sir' type date."

"Wow, real cute, Marc." Just as you were about to lean in for a kiss, you heard the front door open. Your heart stopped, as you and Marc exchanged panicked and confused looks.

"Oh fuck. He's not supposed to be back yet," you whispered urgently, scrambling off the bed. "You have to hide. Like now."

Marc quickly got up, looking around the room for a hiding spot. "WHAT?! Where should I go?!"

"Jesus Christ, Marc. I don't know just.. just get under the bed or something!" you whispered, trying to keep your voice down.

Just as your father yelled something from the living room, Marc dove under the bed. "Y/n? You home?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before opening your bedroom door. "Yeah, What's up?"

He walked down the hallway, a frown on his face. "I thought I left my other keys here. Have you seen them?"

You shook your head, trying to look casual. "Nah, I haven't seen them. Maybe you left them in the locker room after training?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'll call someone to check if someone found them. Are you okay? You seem... off."

"I'm good, Dad," you said quickly, hoping he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice. "Just tired, I guess.."

He looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head back out then. Let me know if you find the keys."

As he turned to leave, you heard a muffled cough from under the bed. Your eyes widened in horror as your father stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing.

"What was that?" he asked, turning back to you.

"What do you mean" you said quickly, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't hear anything. Is your hearing alright?"

"Hey, I'm still only 35 years young. Anyways, I'll just head out, I guess. See you later, honey." He said as he walked out the front door.

As you walked down the hallway to reach your room, you exclaimed, "Marc, what the fuck was that? The one time you NEED to be quiet, you actually cough. How on earth is that possible?"

"Hey, I didn't put all that dust under your bed," he playfully said while hugging you. "Calm down, babe. He didn't even see me."

"Yeah, but he heard your silly ass. Anyways you should just go. He might come back soon."

At least three hours had passed before your dad returned, which was kind of annoying because you had the chance to finish the movie and still had two hours left to hang out without interruptions.

"Hey honey, I'm back home," your dad said as he walked into the house. You were sitting on the couch, watching Suits (a goated show btw).

Your dad's voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You quickly paused the show and turned to face him. "Hey Dad," you replied.

He looked around the living room with a curious expression. His eyes fell upon the hoodie that Marc gave to you. The hoodie that exclusively Barcelona players got. His brow furrowed slightly as he picked it up, examining it with a puzzled look.

"Whose hoodie is this?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, uh, that's Marc's," you said, mentally cursing yourself for not changing beforehand. "He gave it to me last week."

Robert's gaze shifted from the hoodie to you, his expression unreadable. "Marc's?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "We… we've been hanging out a lot. Last week i was cold so he gave it to me."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your sincerity. "Hanging out," he echoed, more a statement than a question.

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Okay, yeah. So, Dad, we've been dating for.. a while now."

His eyes widened in surprise, shocked expression on his face. But he didn't look angry. Instead, he let out a slow breath and nodded.

As he stared at you for what felt like an eternity, processing the information, he finally spoke out, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief, "You and Marc... have been dating?"

"I… I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted, feeling a pinch of guilt for keeping it from him. "And I didn't want you to worry."

Robert leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I see," he said. "And how long has this 'while' been?"

Marc cleared his throat, speaking up, "About seven months, Mr. Lewandowski."

Your dad looked at Marc with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Marc? What are you doing here?" he asked, seeing him in the living room unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry, sir. Y/n messaged me to come over, so I did," Marc spoke out, trying to explain his sudden arrival.

"Sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. Lewandowski," he said earnestly. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."

Robert eased his expression and laughed. "I understand," he softly said in response. "While I can't say I'm not surprised, I appreciate your honesty. Also, Marc, we've known each other for some time now. Just call me as usual." Your father joked with his teammate, your boyfriend.

You felt a wave of relief when you realized he wasn't upset. To be honest, he looked more interested than angry. "So, what do you think, Dad?" You questioned him.

Robert leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, if Marc here has managed to win your heart for seven months without my knowledge, he must be doing something right," he said, his tone teasing yet approving.

Marc and you exchanged a relieved smile as you felt the tension ease. Despite his reputation for being serious, Your dad has surprised you today by showing you compassion and comprehension.

You said, "Thank you, Dad," appreciating his understanding.

He chuckled loudly and replied. "Please just promise me that you will keep me updated. I'm happy for you both."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming feeling of relief. The secret was finally out.

[sacklerscumrag]

Metalhead Next Door

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Notes: hello :) i got the sudden urge to write for eddie munson today for some reason lol

i'm apologizing in advance for how bad it probably is. please keep in mind that i havent written anything in a long time, let alone for eddie

but if you do read it for whatever reason, thank you i love you im giving you a big kiss rn <3

Warnings: neighbors to lovers, jealous!reader, pining, oral sex (f receiving)

Word Count: 1.4K

A loud rumble from a run-down truck rang outside your trailer window, jolting you from sleep. The book you abandoned some hours ago slid off your chest as you sat on the bed to peek outside. Snow continued to fall and hardened on the window sill from earlier that morning, each flake a silent whisper against the palm of your hand as you held it out in the icy air. Metal music blared through the familiar window across from yours, drawing your attention toward the warm glow coming from inside. An overpowering scent of weed lingered between the two trailers—something you'd found comfort in within the last couple of months of living next door to the Munsons. Of course, you'd heard the rumors where Eddie was concerned, and you'd have to be blind not to see how people treated him around here. Everyone ignored him, wrote him off as a freak while telling the tale of the long-haired devil-worshiping drug dealer to anyone who would listen. But after almost a year of living next to Eddie, you realized that couldn't be further from the truth.

The first night, Eddie crept up on your front porch when you weren't looking, making himself comfortable on the wooden staircase, offering whatever joint he was nursing—all leather jacket and wild hair with a grin that could warm you to your core if you let yourself admire him for a little too long. Since then, you'd meet Eddie outside once everyone had gone to bed and let his wild D&D stories carry you through the night. The world around you seemed to soften around Eddie, swallowed up by the relentless comfort of his presence. Even when he was gone, one last tiny blaze of warmth and light continuously flickered in your chest for him.

The night air was crisp, making you cling to your blanket that much tighter as you curled up in bed. You nearly jumped when you heard a thump against your bedroom window, a snowball crumbling as another landed against the window pane.

"You're not gonna make me wait out here until I freeze, are you?" Eddie's voice trickled in from outside, making you smile before quickly opening the window and letting him climb in. "It's fucking freezing out there. Hey, sweetheart." Your heart warmed at the nickname as he brushed past you, flopped down on your mattress, and picked up your abandoned book. His hair looked like he'd run his hand through it far too many times today; the snow still crunched as he crossed one boot over another as scattered icicles clung to his jacket's leather and denim patches.

"Well, it's no D&D book, but-." Eddie teased before you cut him off by snatching the book, placing it on your bedside table, and settling beside him. He smirked, clearly pleased with himself for getting to you so quickly.

"So what's new with you, Munson?" You said as you sank next to him, sneaking glances whenever he wasn't looking.

"Same shit, different day. I learned a new Metallica song last week, gonna play it at our gig."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I'll play it for you sometime." You smiled at that. "Oh shit, I was supposed to call Dustin." Eddie dramatically sat up on your bed and sighed.

"Dustin? Was it important?"

"Yeah, sort of; he's been trying to set me up with this girl. Or was it Steve setting me up? All I know is I went out with her last week, and now I gotta be at Family Video tomorrow at 6 to pick out a movie for whatever the fuck a double date movie night is." Your heart sank. Eddie was being set up; he was dating someone. And it wasn't you. Figures. He would never see you as more than a friend; all you ever did was hang out and talk about D&D; he could do that with any of his other friends. This shouldn't surprise you, but that didn't make it sting any less than it did.

"Hey, you okay?" Eddie noticed your silence amidst his rambling. You were seemingly lost in your thoughts as you toyed with your fingers. Something had shifted; your warm presence from just a minute ago felt frigid and distant.

"Yeah." You wiped the tears welling in your eyes and stood from the bed, suddenly needing to put as much distance between you as possible. "Just tired, I'm just gonna go to bed." The mere thought of Eddie snuggling up on a couch with some girl made your chest feel like it would cave in any second. You quickly turned toward your window to open it, unable to face him without fear of bursting into tears.

"Sweetheart, if I did something to piss you off, I'm sorry."

"You didn't just please…I want to go to bed." Your tone was firmer than Eddie had ever heard from you. He should go, head out through the window, and call it a night. But he couldn't. "Please." Your voice slightly cracked, and with it, a piece of Eddie's heart at the realization. When you managed to turn around, his chest was inches from your face, tenderness filling those big, brown, beautiful eyes darting back at you. His ring-clad hand cupped your cheek, skimming over your skin delicately like you would break under his touch.

Before you knew it, your mouth was on his. Your arms around his neck; he tasted like cigarettes and mint from the gum he anxiously chewed before you came in. It was intoxicating. Chills spread across your skin when his hands slid across your waist, pressing you closer to him. It didn't take long for Eddie's need for you to become apparent with feverish hands pushing you back until the desk bumped against your ass; Eddie tapped your thigh to signal you to sit on the hard surface, standing in between your legs and trailing his lips down to your neck and chest. Your hands tangled in his curls, breathing in as much of him as possible before he pulled away slightly.

"Eddie." You paused, studying his face for a moment; face flushed, hair tussled, and lips swollen and pink from your own; he was perfect. "I'm sorry. I should've told you how I felt, I-. Eddie's lips interrupted you with a searing but brief kiss as he spoke against your lips.

"Don't you dare apologize. I've been waiting so fucking long for this." A smile spread across your face, and relief flooded your chest. You tugged on his vest to draw him back to your lips as his hands began to knead your thighs, core clenching at the feeling. Whimpers escaped you from just his lips on your skin. His mouth worked its way along your neck, lifting your shirt and continuing to work his way down until he was kneeling before you.

"Can I?" You nodded as Eddie's ring-clad fingers hooked onto your shorts, pulling them off and discarding them on the floor along with your underwear. He hooked one leg over his shoulder and kissed the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "God, you have no idea how bad I've needed to taste you." Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue begin expertly working along your folds, then back toward your clit. It wasn't long before he slipped a finger inside you, then another. The chill of his rings pressing on your most sensitive spots as he plunged them in and out of you had you arching your back and squeezing your thighs tighter around Eddie. Your chest heaved; every whimper and moan that escaped was like music to his ears. Eddie consumed you like a man starved; it was like the more pleasure he drew from you, the more he wanted. He couldn't get enough. He teased your clit between his lips and began to suck hard. Eddie's movements were relentless. Your eyes screwed shut, and your core tightened until it snapped. Eddie's hand dug into the flesh of your hips to hold you in place as you squirmed against him until you were practically pushing him away. He could see the blissed look on your face as he stood and wrapped your legs around his waist, carrying you over to bed. Once you were settled, Eddie stepped toward the still-open window.

"Don't go," you whispered; a pang of fear hit you. Eddie smirked to himself before shutting the window securely, throwing his jacket on your nightstand, and crawling in beside you.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm not going anywhere."

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine has always chosen her over you, until he doesn't anymore.

Genre: angst and fluff

Warnings: Lemon, Tangerine, and reader are in their early twenties, toxic relationship, swearing, violence, men (the gross kind), body/weight insecurities, cheating, intoxication

~ based on a conversation i had with my wife @little-miss-dilf-lover and lightly inspired by Dial Drunk by Noah Kahn ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

It was midnight when you heard the sharp knocks on your apartment door. You knew your roommate was already asleep so you quickly pad out of your bedroom and through the living room, rubbing your sleepy eyes as you open the door a sliver and peer out into the corridor. You see Lemon first, a sympathetic look painted across his features as he holds up an extremely drunk Tangerine.

Tangerine's face is covered in bruises, the skin around his eye is slowly turning purple and you see the blood on his knuckles as he flexes his hands. Your eyes widen and you hurry out into the hall, your bare feet against the harsh carpet as you quietly shut the door behind you. "What happened?" you whisper, worried for him. Tangerine just grunts, his eyes glossy. 

He's been crying. 

Lemon groans and holds his brother higher, looking at you knowingly. As if he knows the news will somehow break your heart. You stare at him, as if to say 'cut the bullshit' because you want to see if it has something to do with Macey—which it probably does.

Tangerine and Macey have been dating on and off for years. Since high school she's had him wrapped around her pinky, his head a lust-filled mess that very quickly turned into full-blown puppy-love. She'd always be the one to dump him and he'd always come back because he loved her so much. It was an endless cycle that lasted until now, your junior year of university. 

You hate her. You have never hated anyone as much as you hate Macey Addams. 

You hate her silky ginger hair, the way her dark eyes contrast Tangerine's blue ones so well, and that fake smile she reserves for you when you see her. You hate how she laughs, how she talks, and how she looks in those skin-tight dresses Tangerine loves so much.  

You hate her.

You hate how you're not her. 

"Ran into some 'friends' from high school at the bar," Lemon says, emphasizing the word friends with a grunt, "Said some things this dick didn't like so he had to start a fucking bar fight, like some fucking criminal. All because of some bird who doesn't want nothin' to do with you anymore, mate," Lemon scolds Tangerine, who slouches against the wall and slides down, holding his head in his arms. 

"Someone called the coppers and I had to bail him out."

Your eyes widen and you run a hand in your messy hair, kneeling in front of Tangerine as you look up at Lemon. "Really?"

Lemon nods and removes his hand from Tangerine's shoulder. He walks away further down the hall, shaking his head as he groans. Lemon's mumbling curses under his breath and so is Tangerine, only his sound sadder than his brother. 

"Hey," you whisper, "Tan?"

His arms attach themselves to your waist, holding you close as he sobs. You sigh, resting your hand on his head as you let him hold you. Sometimes you'd find yourself being bitter, because why does he love Macey so much when you've always been here for him? 

You'd gift him the moon if you could, but instead, you're stuck being just this—his best friend.

Not that you're complaining. 

"Y/n?" he asks a while later as you both sit on the floor of your room, having managed to sneak him quietly through the living room. You're nursing frozen peas to his knuckles as he leans his head against your bed. Knowing Tangerine was in good hands, Lemon had gone home. 

You hum, looking at him. 

"If I could choose who I was in love with," he begins, his intoxication still obvious only he's slowly sobering up. He blinks slowly, finding his words, "I'd choose you."

You look into his blue eyes you'd normally want to drown yourself in and your heart shatters. He means well, you know this. Plus, how is he supposed to know you're actually madly in love with him when you've never told him?

However, the words hurt like hell knowing his love for Macey is almost otherworldly. He speaks of it like a chemical reaction he has no control over and you're simply the choice. Something mundane and easier. 

You turn your head and quickly wipe a tear from your cheek so he doesn't see. You look at him again and strain a smile. 

"I'd choose you too, Tan."

* * *

Four months later, although sometimes you would find him lost in thoughts of her, she was mostly a distant memory and your feelings for Tangerine have been successfully repressed.  

The pub is extra crowded this evening and you slither your way through people to where your date is. His name is Adrien, which is a respectable name. He's handsome enough if not a little boring. You order your drinks and then the conversation turns sour. 

"I mean, females need to watch their crabs, y'know. You should really order a salad," Adrien pushes the menu across the table, his voice calm like he'd just called the sky blue. You frown, cheeks warm as you cross an arm over your stomach, feeling insecure in your dress. 

"Females?" you repeat in disbelief that a man like this exists.

He doesn't answer. The waiter comes with the wine and you gulp yours down in one go.

In hindsight you should have left the moment Adrien opened his mouth, but something inside you embarrassingly craved any form of affection up until he tried to kiss you outside the pub, and when you pushed him away for the second time, he called you an ugly bitch and stormed off. 

Your lip wobbles as you stare at the lamppost, your hand clutching your purse strap so hard it hurts. You sniffle and fumble with your phone, texting the one person you know won't hesitate to come pick you up. You really don't want to walk home.

Minutes later, his car screeches in front of the pub and he opens the door from the driver's side, looking at you with a concerned expression as you climb in, buckling yourself. "Thanks," you mutter. 

"S'no problem, poppet," Tangerine says, sending you a sideways look as he starts the car again, shifting the gear as he drives off. You sink into the expensive leather seats and look out the window. You sniffle again, still holding an arm over your stomach. 

You keep hearing Tangerine's ringtone. Someone's bombarding him with texts. You turn, catching a glimpse of the contact's name as she calls him up again. The screen flashes her name. Mae. Macey. Tangerine turns his phone over in the center console, turning off the sound as he focuses on the road.

You look at him, your frown momentarily distracting you from how watery your eyes have become from the evening events. "Don't you want to answer?" you whisper. You know Tangerine would usually jump at an opportunity for her attention. This time, his jaw clenches and he shakes his head. 

"Rude to answer the phone when you're with someone, innit?" he says, looking at you briefly. "Are ya okay, love?" he asks, his tone softer now. 

You're a little surprised he's putting you over Macey but you relish in it.

You shrug. "Hm, bad date," you say. 

Tangerine's nose scrunches and his hands tighten on the wheel. "Did something happen?"

"If you count him being a jerk who thought it was normal to comment on my food choice on the first date, then yeah." You roll your eyes and look out the window again, blinking rapidly not to cry. You cross your other arm across your stomach as you instinctively suck in.

Tangerine catches the movement and his frustration boils. "You look beautiful," he says and places his hand on your knee. "Don't," he whispers, waiting for you to relax your poor stomach. You do it with a sigh and you're silent the rest of the car ride.

Once you're back home, Tangerine agrees to stay the night to keep you company after such a horrible experience. It really isn't smart, considering your heart latches on to him immediately, and it is only sent plummeting when just before your eyes flutter shut to sleep, you hear Tangerine's muffled voice in your bathroom, her name on his tongue.   

Of course, he'd called her back. 

* * *

Six months later Lemon is throwing a housewarming party for him and his fiancée, Liv. You'd decide to bring your boyfriend of three months. Unbeknownst to you, Tangerine also had invited a plus one neither you nor Lemon approved of. 

"Y/n/n!" her shrill voice calls over the music as you turn, your champagne almost falling from your hand as you see her. Her fiery red hair is cut shorter but it's as pretty as ever as she drops Tangerine's arm and skips over, pulling you into a hug. "I've missed you." Macey's tone is sweet, almost as if you'd been best friends for years. 

You see Tangerine handing Lemon his and Macey's coat, whispering something to his brother who sends him a dirty look. Macey continues to hug you and then introduces herself to your boyfriend Charlie. You don't miss how Charlie's gaze flickers to her breasts in her navy skin-tight dress. Macey smiles sweetly at him.

You feel sick. 

You excuse yourself and find Tangerine in the kitchen as he looks for a drink. "Macey? Really? You're a fucking puppy wrapped around her finger," you spit, slightly drunk from the champagne and frustrated from the situation.

Tangerine rolls his eyes. "She's changed. We're good now."

"You sound so stupid," you accuse, walking over and shoving his shoulder in an attempt to knock some sense into him. He grunts and steadies you with his hands as he frowns. 

"You're sloshed, Y/n."

You shake your head and push his hand away, eyes lidded. "You fucking tell your girl to keep her dirty mitts away from my boyfriend then!" Tangerine's anger rises as he hates what you're implying just as much as you do. 

"She's not like that," he argues and you scoff, turning around to storm off into the living room again. 

"Not anymore," Tangerine calls but you ignore him. 

An hour or two later, after some rounds of charades and sneaking glances you wish you hadn't seen between Charlie and Macey, you're even drunker. Lemon is beginning to worry as Liv insists you have more water. You don't know what you hate more, that your current boyfriend keeps looking at another woman, or how said woman keeps playing with Tangerine's tie as she sits curled up in his lap. 

You think it's all in your drunken mind when you stumble into the backyard and see Charlie with his hand under Macey's dress, her leg wrapped around his hip as they kiss passionately. They're probably fueled by liquor and lust but it doesn't matter, the dam breaks and you turn around, stumbling inside, alerting them to your presence. You're crying as you slam your head into someone's hard chest. 

"Woah. Bloody hell," Tangerine frowns and looks at you. He's probably the only sober person here. He's been fully sober for more than half a year now.  His hand comes up to your cheek immediately as he pads at your tears. "Love, what happened?"

You don't answer him, only sobbing more as you push by him and rush into the upstairs bathroom. Charlie stumbles inside, buttoning up his shirt and he makes uncomfortable eye contact with Tangerine. He stops cold, clears his throat, and nods his head at him before he rushes up the stairs after you. 

Tangerine's stomach drops. He takes a calming breath and puts his hands in his pockets as he walks outside and sees Macey adjusting her dress and wiping the sides of her mouth, where her mauve lipstick had smudged.

She turns to him, her voice still as she says calmly, "I can explain, T." She doesn't sound remorseful in any way, a clear indication that he's been letting her walk all over him. 

He takes another breath and walks to her, his demeanor just as calm and Macey's expression falters. Usually, this would rile him up and she loved the adrenaline she received from calming him down and taming him. This? This was new.

"It's one thing to hurt me," Tangerine drawls, staring at her with a cold gaze. "It's another to hurt her."

Macey frowns. "Who? Y/n? Who cares—"

"I care," he interrupts and takes Macey's chin in his hand, not tightening enough to hurt her, just to scare her. "You went too far this time and I should have never given you another chance. This? Us? We should have ended years ago."

He releases her and Macey's eyes widen. "Tangerine,"

"Get out." He says sternly and turns around, adding in a harsh tone, "And lose my fuckin' number."

Tangerine hears Charlie banging on the bathroom door the moment he enters the house again and his fists clench. He strides upstairs and pulls on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling him jump as he looks at Tangerine. "Ya think ya haven't done enough?"

Charlie opens his mouth to protest but hearing Tangerine, you open the door just a little and peek outside, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and a mess of snot under your nose. Tangerine's gaze softens when you sniffle. 

"Tan," you whisper. 

Charlie puts his hand on the door and attempts to pry it open. "Y/n!" He sounds urgent but Tangerine shoves him away, sending him a glare as he lets himself into the small bathroom and locks the door behind him again. 

You're inconsolable now as you cry violently. As angry as you are with Tangerine for bringing her, you need him now. You grasp his shirt and rest your forehead on his chest, shaking. Tangerine is as mad at himself as you are, maybe even more so. He wraps his arms around you and inhales the scent of your shampoo as he kisses your head repeatedly. 

"Darlin'," he whispers, his voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry. I'm so fuckin' sorry."

He hears another annoying sharp knock from Charlie again and instantly bangs his heel against the door, startling you a little but he holds you tighter and barks. 

"Piss the fuck off, twat."

The knocking ends. 

* * *

An hour later, Tangerine has you sitting on Lemon and Liv's kitchen counter as they clean up from the party. He hands you some water as he rolls up his sleeves. One of his hands finds your thigh and he rubs it soothingly. You look up at him from behind your glass, unable to resist the question.  

"Is there something wrong with me?"

Tangerine's forehead pinches and pulls his hand away so he can cup your cheeks instead. He stands in between your legs, his eyes level with yours as they search your features. "Pardon? Say that again."

"What does she have that I don't? Is she prettier than me? Does she have a better body? I- I want to be wanted like her," you sniffle, your words slurred as you're still very intoxicated no matter how much water you've drank. Your cheeks are damp from your tears. "Why does she take every man I like? Why did she take you from me when I loved you damn so much?"

Tangerine's heart leaps at your words. "Loved me?" he repeats, his thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod and look into his eyes. "Love," you admit, "For years—and it never stops either and I tried. I tried, Tan."

You sound so sad.

His hand shakes on your cheek and for a moment you think he's leaning in to kiss you as your eyes flutter, but instead, he crushes you into a hug. You relax in his arms, shutting your eyes fully as you whimper and the sound hits him hard. 

He'd been such an idiot. 

"I would kiss ya," he whispers, sounding sincere, "I'd kiss ya if ya weren't so damn drunk."

You're speechless. 

Liv walks in, holding an armful of paper towels with Lemon on her heels. She smiles when Tangerine shifts away from you, clearing his throat, and you try to look busy, your head spinning from Tangerine's previous words. Lemon raises an eyebrow at his brother and Tangerine communicates with his eyes. Lemon chuckles.

"G'night, lovebirds," he grins as Liv puts away the paper towels and smirks too, slapping Lemon's arm playfully.

Tangerine's cheeks burn crimson all the way up to his ears. 

Once they're gone he turns his attention to you again, looking at you fondly. "I've been a real fuckin' prick, haven't I?" he says and pushes some hair behind your ear. "Lookin' at 'er, when what I wanted was right here in front of me this whole damn time."

You blink at him, his words sinking in but you're too drunk to comprehend. 

Tangerine kisses your forehead. "I'll make it up to you," he says, his chest filling with warmth. It's a promise. One he keeps because when you wake up in Lemon's guest room, Tangerine walks in shirtless with a breakfast tray full of an assortment of toast, beans, and eggs. 

"Monrin' love," he says. He's wearing that familiar smile. A peaceful, happy, smile. The one you haven't seen him wear in a while. 

Damn does it look good on him.     

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv, @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader

[milf-harrington]

i read a fic yesterday (return of the king) where Steve swapped with Eddie at the last second at the end of s4 and ended up being the one who died and had to be left behind and then he came back as a vampire and it just got my brain TICKING.

So role-reversal AU where steve is the one who comes back basically kas-ified as is the common trope with eddie, but where eddie goes to steve, steve goes to robin.

lets say, for funsies, that they managed to kill vecna and max only ended up hospitalised for a broken elbow and a twisted ankle (from falling on it), so everyone has the time and space to grieve.

Steve’s death hits Robin the hardest because he was her person. He was her i-wish-we-could-just-merge-into-one-being. Her ride or die. Her soulmate. And he’d been taken from her, torn apart and left to rot in the very world he’d tried so hard to protect her from. 

The others give her space to let her mourn quietly in her bedroom, dressed in steve’s clothes and listening to his music like if she just tried hard enough she could still merge them together and let him use her lungs to breathe, her heart to pump his blood, her head to share his thoughts. that she could single handedly go from a me to a we.

And then, one day, Robin starts acting weird. She doesn’t know the Wheeler’s phone number and on her way to find it in the phone book, she found the Munson’s first, and when Eddie picks up it’s too a very chipper Robin asking for a lift to the shops where she proceeds to buy an alarming amount of red meat and refuses to answer any questions.

And she’s just- happy. She’s weird and happy and keeps calling Eddie to ask him about Dungeons and Dragons lore and if he can take her to the library or to the butcher and if he can let her borrow his jumper please? I get cold easily. And then she just keeps stealing clothes, from everyone. Sometimes she asks, sometimes she’ll just take a jacket off of the back of a chair and act like nothing happened, sometimes she just sneaks off to go rooting through washing baskets.

Then comes the day she invites Eddie over, probably a week or so after her initial journey into Weird-Ville, nervously rambling about nothing right up until she closes the front door behind them and runs into Eddie’s back because Eddie’s just spotted Steve-fucking-Harrington peering at him from around the corner. 

Apparently, a not-exactly-dead-anymore Steve crawled through Robin’s window one night and has since taken up residence underneath her bed. 

“He was kinda- not all there, at first.” She tells him, chopping a steak into cubes and dropping them into a blender. Steve, winged and fanged and tailed, leans against the counter and watches her with sleepy eyes. “But we’ve been working on it.”

After the initial pants-shitting shock of having her dead best friend re-appear as a creature of the upside down, Robin had simply accepted it and moved on. Happy to have Steve back no matter what it looked like. 

And what it looked like was blending raw meat, and reading together in the bathroom to bring back his ability to talk, and stealing clothes for the veritable nest Steve was building in her closet. The next step in her plan to re-domesticate her best friend, had been to introduce him to another person: Eddie, evidently. 

Steve promptly spends 5 minutes being a feral little creature, scenting Eddie within an inch of his life like he’d done to Robin, and then attempting to plant him in his nest like a little ornament. 

Just. idk. feral kas!steve seeking out robin for safety, who slowly re-introduces him to his humanity and then his future boyfriend.

[chheolie]

do we have a series with seungcheol being the father of a little girl in elementary school?

you always manage to handle everything, even though it's very tiring. your ex-husband isn't one of those absent fathers; on the contrary, he's always available for your daughter.

but today was particularly awful! you felt exhausted, inadequate. you put your daughter to bed earlier, but of course, she wasn't sleepy. you just couldn't hold back the tears anymore.

hidden under the comforter, your eyes were swollen from crying so much. this past year since the separation hadn't been easy. seungcheol still held a huge space in your heart, and dealing with his absence was a difficult battle.

your daughter, always observant, noticed your mood swings and the sadness that occasionally showed in your eyes. this time was no different; she just accepted lying down even though she didn't want to sleep. while you tried to pull yourself together in your room, she sneaked out of hers and quickly grabbed your phone, dialing her dad's number.

seungcheol was in a meeting with the members after a day of rehearsals when his phone rang. seeing your number on the screen, an immediate concern arose in his heart.

"hello? y/n?" he asked, worried.

"appa..." she said in a small voice, making seungcheol even more concerned.

"hi, my love, what's wrong?" he tried to keep his voice calm.

"appa, i think omma is sick," her little voice sounded on the phone, full of worry. "she's been crying for a long time."

seungcheol's heart tightened at hearing this. "sick? what else did you see? did she say anything?"

"no, she's just in her room, crying. what should i do?"

seungcheol felt a lump in his throat. part of him wanted to run to you, while another part hesitated, fearing to reopen old wounds. but his concern for your well-being spoke louder.

"don't worry okay? i'm coming over."

he hung up the phone, determined to do whatever it took to make you feel better. he said goodbye without giving many explanations to the members and headed to his car.

as he turned off the car, he took a deep breath. he tried to focus his mind on helping you and forgetting the feelings he'd been repressing for the past year.

your ex-husband opened the bedroom door slowly, looking cautiously. seeing you under the comforter, he knocked gently. "y/n...? is everything okay?"

you emerged from under the comforter quickly, startled by the voice you heard. "seungcheol?" you asked, confused, sitting up and drying your tears, but your eyes were sunken and red, making his heart ache at the sight. he approached slowly, sitting beside you, hesitant but unable to stay away.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, still trying to understand.

"our daughter called me, she was worried about you. i... i needed to come." he said calmly, trying not to falter.

"oh... i'm sorry seungcheol. i'm sorry she called you and made you worry. i... i should have been more careful; i didn't want her to worry like this." you said, looking down.

"you don't need to apologize, y/n. our daughter did what she thought was right. she was worried about you, just as i am." he said firmly. "what happened, y/n? what made you cry?" he asked with a tone of sadness.

you looked at seungcheol, the tears starting to fall again. taking a deep breath, you began to speak, your voice trembling with the force of your emotions.

"seungcheol, i... i'm so overwhelmed. everything is so hard without you here. i feel like i'm carrying the world on my shoulders, and sometimes, i just can't do it anymore. i miss you so much."

seungcheol swallowed hard, leaning in a little more, his eyes full of concern and guilt. "i didn't know it was this hard for you, y/n. i... never wanted you to feel like this."

you continued, the words pouring out in a torrent as if a dam had broken. "i've been trying to be strong, for me and for our daughter, but it's so lonely. i look at the place where you used to be, and it's like a part of me is missing. i don't know how to move on without you."

seungcheol held your hand, squeezing it gently. "y/n, i'm so sorry for all this. i'm so sorry for not being here for you. i never stopped caring about you, never stopped thinking about you."

you looked into his eyes, feeling the connection between you still strong. "i miss you so much, seungcheol. i don't know if i can keep going like this. everything feels so empty without you."

he pulled you into a hug, his voice soft and full of regret. "i miss you too, y/n. maybe... maybe we can find a way to make this work. i want to be here for you, in any way you need."

"appa, can you stay with us tonight?" your daughter asked, her eyes shining with expectation, startling you both as you were hugging.

seungcheol looked at her, letting go of the hug, hesitant. "my dear, i... i don't live here anymore. i can't just stay."

disappointment crossed your daughter's face, and she looked at you with a pleading expression. "but, omma, please ask appa to stay. i don't want you to get sick again."

you felt your heart ache at seeing the sadness in her eyes. looking at seungcheol, you saw the same hesitation and concern in his eyes. taking a deep breath, you just nodded to him, and he understood what you wanted to say with your look.

"okay. just for tonight." he said, turning to your daughter.

your daughter let out a little squeal of joy and ran to hug her father again. "thank you, appa! thank you, omma!"

you smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest at seeing them together. even if it was just for one night, having seungcheol there brought an indescribable comfort.

the night passed slowly, with a mix of feelings hanging in the air. while seungcheol read a story to your daughter in the living room, you watched them from the hallway, your eyes still swollen but now with a glimmer of hope. his voice was calm and comforting, each word conveying a sense of security that you so desperately needed.

your daughter was snuggled in her appa's lap, laughing and having fun, momentarily forgetting the whirlwind of emotions she'd felt before. the sound of her laughter was like music to your ears, a reminder that, despite everything, there were moments of happiness and peace.

seungcheol looked up and met your eyes. a gentle and understanding smile lit up his face, and you felt your heart warm. he was there, even if just for one night, and that made all the difference.

when the story ended, your daughter fell asleep in her father's arms, tired but with a peaceful expression.

seungcheol carefully placed your daughter on the couch, covering her with a blanket. he then approached you, who was leaning against the doorframe, watching the scene with a mix of gratitude and longing. without saying a word, he enveloped you in a tight hug, as if his actions could convey all the apologies and regrets that words couldn't.

"i'm so sorry," he murmured, his voice choked. "i'm sorry for everything you went through alone, for not being here when you needed me the most."

you let the tears flow, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. seungcheol's embrace was a safe harbor in the storm that had been the last year. "i'm sorry too, i know it's been hard for you too," you whispered, the words coming out amidst sobs. "i miss you so much, seungcheol."

he held you even tighter, as if he wanted to ensure he'd never let you fall again. "i'm here now, y/n. and i'll do everything to make sure this night isn't the last. i'll do everything to be more present, until i can be here every day."

you pulled away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "thank you for coming," you said, feeling a comforting warmth spread through your chest. "even if just for tonight, having you here means so much to me."

he smiled gently and wiped the tears from your face. "whenever you need, i'll be here. and i'll do everything so that, in the future, we can be together again, as a family."

[garbinge]

HARMONY AFTER THE STORM

Tyler Owens x F!Reader // Word Count: 2.7k Summary: After a long day, you wind down back at the motel and share a sweet moment at the parking lot bonfire with Tyler Owens. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff. Established relationship. Light angst (based on details of the heaviness of storm chasing). No use of y/n. A/N: Trying out somethin a liiiil new layout wise for my fics! Tyler Owens brain rot is in full effect and this fluffy little number makes my heart warm.

Your phone speaker hummed as music vibrated against the bathroom sink while you washed the day off in the shower. The motel’s water pressure wasn’t the best, but you weren’t complaining, you were happy there was hot water and soap left. You were always the last of the crew to shower, while that ran the risk of running out of hot water, it also awarded you the most peaceful shower. Everyone was gone, outside gathered around bonfires, maybe fixing up equipment. Point was, it left you alone to decompress with your music and sometimes you’d sneak a shower beer in as well, you were a southern girl after all. 

After a day of chasing storms, getting dirt practically embedded into your skin, the chaos of all the voices, the engines, the winds, this was your peace, your grounding. The soft music buzzing as you swayed back and forth as the water fell down your body. Washing down the drain along with the dirty water was all your anxiety from the day. While you loved chasing tornadoes, you also fully were aware of the effect it had on your psyche. You weren’t as easy as the others in the crew. Boone loved the thrill, he was crazy in the best way possible. Lilly was a free-spirit, she would go wherever the winds blew her and thrive effortlessly. Dani and Dexter, they were too smart for their own good, every equation, every problem, they’d smile through finding the solution. And Tyler, well, he was a good combination of it all while also just plainly and simply loving it. The clouds, the storms, he found beauty in them. For him it was passion.  For you, you did enjoy it, the thrill of it all, the problem solving, the fact that it kept you on your toes moving.  And you couldn’t lie, the storms were fucking beautiful when you really looked at them. But for you the reasoning was more difficult. You wanted to help. But that came with a heavy burden, but for you helping outweighed all those bad moments. That’s how it was for everyone in the crew, you just felt like the mental images of wreckage stayed with you a little longer than everyone else. Which is why these showers were your favorite, it helped you process it all. 

“Hey baby, it’s just me!” Tyler called out as he entered the motel room. “Just lookin’ for Lilly’s drone repair case!” His eyes were looking around the room, there were tons of bags and things scattered across the floor, the beds, and anything resembling a table. His announcement out to you was just so he didn’t startle you with his presence, but he knew very well how important that end of the day shower was to you which is why he wasn’t paying much attention to the open door of the bathroom. 

Between the music on your phone and the shower you didn’t hear him come in. Just continued your swaying, letting the water bounce off your face. As the song changed, you began to mumble along, your voice echoing against the bathroom acoustics despite you only lowly singing with the speaker. 

As Tyler bent down to grab the case, his eyebrows furrowed, the left side of his lips twitched up in a smile, his mouth open as he let out a whispered chuckle. There was a lot crossing his mind at the moment. It was obvious you hadn’t heard him come in, not because you were singing but because you were singing and hadn’t acknowledged him. As he heard you mumbling the country music from damn near a decade ago he couldn’t help but grin. It was music you’d both listen to when you first started dating. The song was one he hadn’t heard in ages but when it filled his ears now, and your voice joined along with it, he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face. His head turned towards the bathroom door that was wide open as he stood up straight, the drone case now in his hand resting at his side. The frosted shower curtain tried its best to censor out what was behind it, but your blurred silhouette could still be seen as you moved your hips back and forth to the beat. That grin on Tyler's grin didn’t fade, if anything it grew bigger. Dropping the case on the bed before walking over to the bathroom, he leaned his shoulder on the open door frame as his arms crossed, and his right foot crossed over the left. Seeing you like this made his heart happy, he was no stranger to the weight your storm chasing days had on you. His mind couldn’t help but jump back to those first few years of your relationship, ones that were littered with memories of late night drives, line dancing and stepping on eachother’s feet, camping out in the bed of his truck in the middle of the Arkansas farmland plains. It was crazy that all this time had passed and you hadn’t done any of the things that made you fall in love with each other for what now he realized felt like a really long time. Your lives were consumed with this and while he knew you didn’t mind, it didn’t stop his own from wandering. His head fell down with one more smile, opting to not say anything to you and ruin your post-chase ritual. Pushing off the door frame, he grabbed the case and left the motel room to rejoin the group outside. 

Your hair was still damp from the shower, but you had fresh clothes on and felt like a new person. Quickly you tossed your shoes on, grabbed your phone from the bathroom sink and made your way down the stairs to join the crew. At this point, they had all gathered around the bonfire, leaving the rest of the repairs and work for tomorrow. Guitars of some of the chasers from other groups were playing as the groups gathered with their beers and mingled. It was one of your favorite things about being on the road like this, just random people joining together all in the common interest of storms. But these moments weren't always about twisters, they were about comradery, they were about friendship, laughs. It was memories in the making.

As you reached into the cooler, you pulled out two cans of beer. The condensation and melted ice falling off them in drops as you made your way closer to the bonfire circle. While there weren't many empty seats left around the fire, you knew you always had one reserved for you. You spotted Tyler before you even trekked down the stairs of the motel, his laugh was loud and could be heard from miles away. Your eyes had found him in the crowd almost immediately so once you were on the ground level, all you needed to do was make your way over to him. 

“Hey.” It came out as a whisper in his ear while leaning over the back of the chair he was reclined slightly back on. Your hands fell down against his chest, the cold beers you got for both of you were resting against him now. He stopped talking and looked up at you, his hand instinctively reaching up your arms and guiding you to sit down in his lap which you did without hesitation.

“Hey country girl.” His left hand caught your back as you moved down onto his legs, his other hand resting over your legs that dangled off the side of him as well as the chair. 

As your face scrunched up in a humorous and unclear look, you adjusted yourself in his lap, Tyler providing you support as you did so. 

“Country girl?” You questioned him, still confused as to what he meant. You were a lot of things, nickname wise, to him. He’d come up with something for everything over the years but this was one you hadn’t heard. 

He didn’t answer you, just smiled and placed a quick kiss on your arm before taking one of the beers from your hands to crack open before continuing his conversation from before you arrived.

And if that wasn’t enough, Lilly’s voice was taking you away from even thinking about what Tyler had said. “We fixed the drone!”

Tyler's head was resting on the side of your arm, chatting with the person to his left, although to you it was behind. Your time was being occupied by leaning forward a bit to talk with Lilly who was in the seat to Tyler’s right. She was catching up on the details with Cairo, the drone that had been just as much a part of your crew as each human member. You were so invested in the conversation that you almost missed the familiar strumming in the faint distance. It took you a few seconds but your head turned and took in the guitar players nodding and tapping their feet to the song you were just singing to while you showered. 

Your lips began to curve up, you felt Tyler’s hand move up your back, rubbing it over your shirt. As you looked down at him, your smile still only slightly curved and your eyes knowingly doing all the talking for you, his own grin widened and he looked down away from your gaze with a laugh. 

“Tyler Owens, were you spying on me?” You whispered it, only wanting this to be a moment between the two of you. 

“It’s possible.” He cheesed even harder as he looked back up into your gaze again. 

With a shake of your head, you looked away so you could roll your eyes before nestling in closer to him. Your side was falling against his chest, but your head found its comfortable position rested on his shoulder as you sunk down a bit more. “You told them to play this?” 

“I did.” He said it so matter of fact while looking over at the guitar players, his hands coming around you tighter as he held you as close to him as possible. “I came in to grab somethin’ for Lilly. Called out to you and everythin’.” His shoulders moved your face up and down as he shrugged. “Just as I was about to leave I heard this song start, and some pretty little voice joinin’ along with it.” You felt yourself get a little warm as he said it, a mix of fluster and a little embarrassment. “Got me thinkin’ about when we first started hangin’ out.” 

“S’why I listen to it. It reminds me of you.” You knew Tyler felt a little warm in the cheeks too. 

Both of you closed your eyes and just let the music consume you. His head relaxing slightly on yours as you both slightly moved to the beat. You felt his lips against your temple a couple times as the song went on. Each one saying how much you meant to him. 

As the song began to wind down, Tyler hummed. “We should do some of the old stuff we used to do again.” 

You let out a slight snort, one that made Tyler laugh as well as he waited for some explanation. “Tornado wranglers by day and country line dancers by night?” 

“Was talkin’ more about the truck bed camping and late night drives.” While both of you had done the line dancing thing, it by far wasn’t your favorite event. Thinking about it, you both might have gotten more injured there than you did chasing tornadoes. 

“We could do that.” Agreeing, you still kept your eyes closed shut, enjoying the last bits of the song, reimagining the old memories you shared while now thinking of how you could make them new. “Would be a nice change of pace.” 

“I could join you next time in the shower, too. If you’re just looking for a change of pace.” His eyebrows raised as he opened his one eye to peek over at you for your reaction. 

“Could work.” A smirk played at your lips in response. It was then that you realized the song was starting over and you opened your eyes to look at Tyler as your brows grew closer together. “How many times did you ask them to play it?” You were sitting up now, trying to figure out what Tyler was up to.

His arms were still wrapped around your body despite you moving up. “Told ‘em to play until you danced with me.” 

With a similar eye roll as before, you stood up now, your hands filling the space where his just were on your hips in a slight show of attitude. Those damn blue green eyes were looking up at you with the most tender and sweet look attached to them. One that you couldn’t bear to let down so you extended your hand out for him to take it. “Let’s go, Owens.” 

His hand gripped around yours in seconds and when he stood up, he raised his arm with yours to twirl you around until you spun against his chest. Your free hand raising up to brace for impact on his pecks. “We gotta work on your balance if we’re gonna be going line dancing.” He teased you before starting to walk with you practically connected to his chest to a more open area of the lot. After a couple steps, he was turning his body away from you to lead you through the crowd, his hand still connected with yours as you trailed behind him. Once the more open area was in your midst, he turned towards you and you wrapped your arm over his own so your hand was resting on his shoulder but you were leaning more into him than a more traditional slow dance hand placement. Your other hand still hadn’t let go of his own even as the swaying began, but you did feel his other arm caress your lower back to the beat, not only in a romantic way but one that kept you both moving on rhythm. This wasn’t where you expected your night going, but you were damn enjoying it, that was for sure. 

“I know this is hard on you.” His words weren’t the ones you were expecting, so as your fingers moved from his shoulders to get tangled in his blonde hair, you frowned despite knowing exactly what he was saying and looked down to make a joke out of it.

“Pretty sure I haven’t stepped on your foot once yet.” 

“No,” he laughed before getting serious again, “I just meant, I know the chase, it can wear you down.” 

You nodded in agreement but shrugged up at him, your fingers moving from his hair to lightly trace his cheek. “Stuff like this makes it easier.” 

He dipped his head in acknowledgment of your words before letting the music take over for a bit, but you weren’t going to leave it there. You wanted him to really understand that you meant what you said. 

“You know you still keep me on my toes, Owens.” You spoke to him, still shocked by how the night had progressed. 

“Good, because I don’t need you stepping on mine.” He looked down when you accidentally misstepped causing both of you to come closer together in laughs. He drew you closer, the embrace was one that spoke so much with such a small gesture. It was reassurance, the feeling of never wanting to let you go or let go of the memories you two shared over the years either. 

And that’s when you rested your head on him, now with your bodies completely against each other, your arms wrapped around his neck, realizing this moment would be added to that list. To seal its impression you lifted your head to look up at Tyler, your eyes moving from his to his lips and then brought your interlocked fingers to the nape of his neck to bring his face closer to yours. The soft, intimate kiss was your souvenir from this moment, your way of embedding this memory right along with your other cherished ones.

Dividers by @realitycanbewhateveridesire ♥️ 🌪️ Twisters Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @cinderellasmissingshoes (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

[miss-dollette]

Makarov • Baby Daddy Headcanons

While Makarov is a psychopathic maniac without a care for anyone, he'd definitely never abandon his own. This man values loyalty above anything and will never forsake one of his own, especially his baby mama and his child.

A visit from Makarov would be rare, but when he visited, he always made sure to bring a gift for his baby, and sometimes, even for you. Nothing cheap, of course—a necklace worth thousands. See it as a reward for being an oh-so-good woman and bearing him a child.

Don't bother with work. Call in and never come back. Makarov has you covered for the rest of your life. He'd move you away from the dingy city and have you cozy with your baby in a house you'd never be able to pay off on your own. But you wouldn't need to worry about that - Makarov made sure to pay in cash to whatever sketchy realtor he knew would never reveal your location. If they did... let's just say they'd never sell another house again.

The new addition to the Makarov family would love their father. They'd cry all day in your arms, never stopping until their father's rough cheek scratched against their own, and he shushed them in his rough Russian manner.

The first time you handed over the tiny Makarov to their father would become a bittersweet memory.

"Make sure his/her neck is supported," you softly said while passing the baby into Makarov's arms, mindful of the delicate strength his/her little neck had yet to develop.

"Perfect," you said as Makarov gently held the baby in his arms, his neck crooked down as he watched his baby's eyelids flutter, their little pink cheeks, and tufts of hair on top their head. The baby tiny fist lifted into air, and Makarov placed his lips upon their tiny knuckles.

You leaned in and placed your lips on Vladimirs rough cheek.

He'd definitely pretend he wasn't obsessed with his newborn baby's scent. You'd walk into the nursery, and he'd shoot up from the crib and act like his nose wasn't all up in his baby's scalp.

He'd be fiercely protective of his family. No one, not even his closest allies, would know. Maybe Yuri, but he'd only tell him long after you gave birth.

If he had a son, he'd definitely plan to raise him in a macho-man way. Your son's fifth birthday gift would be a Russian prison knife from the Gulag. And no, he wouldn't care if you made a fuss about it being dangerous for a child.

"Now, why the hell would you give him that? What were you thinking?"

"He's nearly a grown man, and every grown man needs a knife."

"He's five!"

"I was gifted a rifle when I was five, so be grateful!"

Now, if he had a daughter, that would be a whole 'nother story. She would definitely be his little tsarina. All she would need to do is ask, and she'd have it in her little palm.

"She'll become a spoiled little brat if you keep spoiling her like that,"

"What, like you?"

"Not funny."

"Seems funny to me. Come, My Little Tsarina, let's go pick out one of your future cars."

He grew up poor and constantly surrounded by critters sneaking around in his home. He'd bring home stray cats to make sure no rats or mice would go near his baby.

Will sometimes sleep over. You'd both sleep in the same bed, and his razor-sharp training from when he was a soldier would come to good use. Any noise your baby made would wake him instantly.

He's paranoid as hell, so be ready for him to patrol the house multiple times a day. Your baby will grow up thinking it's normal for his father to have an automatic assault rifle in hand, walking around with murder in his eyes, ready to blow apart whoever dared target his family.

The baby would giggle every time their father passed by, and you'd watch boredly as he walked past. It got boring after the first ten times.

If there ever was a break in, God bless the idiot who did so. Not even his bones would be found.

Other than that, he's a cutie patootie when it comes to his baby. But like, a scary cutie patootie.

[writingfromasgard]

Need more fat baby fics like now my heart can't take it plssssss

I'm assuming you mean König's fat baby.

König adores his little girl. He was one of those dads who required a picture of her sent to him every day from the day care before hiring a nanny.

When he hires the nanny (you), you're expected to move in. The spare room is sparingly decorated so he gives you a $200 budget to change things.

His princess is named Ciela. You come into her life when she's 2. She loves bubbles, drawing what she calls cats, and takes her nap at 11am every day.

She's easily in 3-4T clothing with long legs, clearly taking after her father. Her hair is why so many people believe you're her mother - same hair type and color as yours.

Her speech, like I've said before, is very formal and oddly better than older kids. You figure out it's because König speaks to her like shes an adult. She'll stomp her little feet if you don't do the same.

While she knows English, it's heavily accented by her German vowels. She mixes German with English sometimes too - with small words like and, eggs, a, I, is.

König likes coming home to see her playing with you. He sneaks photos to gush about to Horangi - "Look, Horangi! Isn't my wife playing so well with my Ciela? They look so cute."

The main reason you enjoy the job isn't because of the perks, the overly well behaved toddler, or the dinners König cooks.. it's seeing him put her to bed.

Unless he's on a "business trip", he's the one tucking her into bed, reading from various books.

[haoboutyou]

mornings with you | jeon wonwoo

fluff | 530 words + some change | no warnings

coups ver. | kwan ver

wonwoo thinks he’s woken up in heaven.

rays of sunlight filtering through gaps in the curtains envelop the room in a warm glow. the distant sounds of traffic outside the apartment are nothing more than a gentle lull, the siren’s call for sleep more tempting than ever. there's a sense of leisure in the air, as if the world seemed to pause momentarily around him

there’s you, still deep asleep in his arms, unconsciously burying yourself deeper into his chest to avoid the light. wonwoo peers down at you, sleepy eyes still blurry. they barely make out the way your hair sprawls behind you on your pillow. the soft rhythm of your breath, the gentle touch of his skin against yours– you surround him in the most pleasant ways possible.

soft snoring by his feet causes him to lift his head. ah, seol had somehow sneaked into the room and had squeezed herself onto the edge of the bed sometime in the night.

he cherishes moments like these, of quiet bliss and tenderness. your usually bold and energetic features softened by the embrace of sleep. he doesn’t understand why, but feeling your warmth against him filled his heart with a sudden sense of appreciation and content, cherishing the intimacy of the morning stillness.

and that’s exactly how he spends the next half an hour in bed: fingertips gently tracing your features, eyes committed to burning this exact moment into his memories. wonwoo rubs the faintest circles onto your skin, peppering the lightest kisses wherever he could while trying not to wake you up.

eventually, of course, your eyes flutter open. you’re a little surprised at the softness in his eyes, radiating sincerity and affection, quite literally the first thing in the morning. nonetheless, a lazy grin makes its way onto his face when wonwoo realises you’re finally awake.

“good morning, sleeping head.”

god, his husky voice in the morning was causing all kinds of short circuits in your brain.

embarrassed, you choose to bury your head bad in his chest. you choose instead to respond with a muffled reply.

“hmm? what did you say?” god damn, jeon wonwoo. teasing you first thing in the morning.

soon enough, you lifted your head enough for a coherent reply.

“ ‘mornin...”

“atta girl.” he plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. you squeeze him impossibly closer to you, but he merely chuckles and pries your arms away from his waist.

“c’mon. we gotta get up.”

“can’t we stay like this forever?”

he tries to drag you up but to no avail. “y/nnie, we have a lot of things to do today. grocery shopping, getting guy’s present, going to the gas station– did you forget?”

wonwoo moving around the room to get ready for your busy day ahead awakens seol, who in turn trots over to settle into the nook of your arm. you slump back down, eyes squinting from the glare of the sun shining through the window.

“you’re so productive it hurts,” you whine.

“too bad, now get up!”

“he’s so bossy in the morning, right seollie?”

the dog in question whimpers and tucks her head under her paws.

“what was that?”

“yeah, yeah. i’m getting up!”

[h4m1lt0ns]

HEARTBREAK SYNDROME.

episode five :: 99 PROBLEMS.

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ pairing ︴max verstappen x ex!y/n

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ genre ︴social media au / irl snippets

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ summary ﹔comeback: download has started.

fc – wonyoung jang (28)

꒰꒰◌‧₊ ⬪˙⋆ warnings ﹕none.

☆ IMESSAGE with ; BOARD OF DIRECTORS.

y/n: not to freak you guys out but i knew all along

my baby lando: FYM YOU KNEW ???

babygirl alex: y/n 😁 i swear to god

honey badger: wait

honey badger: what do you mean you knew

chili!: ????

chal eclair: ^^^^

girlfriend kika: babe

girlfriend kika: i need u to explain before pierre loses his shit bc he’s bubbling rn 🙏🏻🤍

y/n: okay hold on y’all listen

wifey lily: 👂🏻👂🏻👂🏻👂🏻

y/n: i always had this sneaking suspicion that some bullshit was going but every time i’d ask him about nothing would come of it

y/n: so i was like maybe i’m the problem 😀

y/n: then i found lipstick in our bathroom and i was like yo ??? tf is this and max said it was his sister’s

y/n: so i was like oh calm

y/n: bc victoria would come over sometimes

y/n: then i found out he cheated the first time

princess george: fIRST TIME????

angel carmen: WHAT DO YOU MEAN FIRST TIME

chili!: HE CHEATED MORE THAN ONCE???

chal eclair: hOLD ON YALL IM TRYNA UNDERSTAND

y/n: yes 😭

y/n: caught him on a call with her being all lovey and shit and we got in a fight bc of it

y/n: and i let it slide bc i thought he would learn + he cried his eyes out

alabono: how is HE gonna cry for cheating 😟

honey badger: WAIT

my baby lando: fuck was he crying for ???

chal eclair: he cried ??

babygirl alex: literally what

honey badger: WAIT YALL

honey badger: Y/N YOU LET THAT SLIDE ???

y/n: I USED TO LOVE HIM OKAY.

chili!: i just sighed so hard man

y/n: hold on there’s more

PIERRE GASLYYYY: MORE ??

PIERRE GASLYYYY: y/n…

my baby lando: bae what is this…

chal eclair: what else did he do then damn

y/n: the bitch was in my bed

babygirl alex: WOAHHHHHHHH

angel carmen: now hold on, hOLD ON NOW.

girlfriend kika: i screamed

honey badger: ouuuuu it’s gonna get violent rq

y/n: i found them cuddled up, clearly post fuck, in my bed, listening to my music and guess what

chili!: BRO 😭

chal eclair: WHAT OH MY GOD

my baby lando: ¿¿¿

y/n: HER KID WALKS IN BEHIND ME EATING MYYYYYYY ICE CREAM

y/n: IN MYYYYY HOUSE

princess george: see this is where i personally would’ve swung at everyone

PIERRE GASLYYYY: LISTENING TO YOUR MUSIC???????

wifey lily: NAHHHHHH MAN

angel carmen: i’m not even kidding

angel carmen: i’m deadass speechless

y/n: i need all of u to come to my house immediately

y/n: there’s so much more i need to tell y’all

chili!: Y/N.

chili!: WHAT DO YOU MEAN THERES MORE.

y/n: ….

chal eclair: answer the question bae 🤍

y/n: well

my baby lando: oh my god

y/n

♡ liked by lilymhe, landonorris, and 11,340,293 more.

y/n i could see right through it

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[tasiawrites]

Slashers and their black partner getting their hair and nails done

ft. Brahms Heelshire, Micheal Myers, Jason Voorhes, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair and Billy Loomis + Stu Matcher

contains: general fluff, poly Ghostface (i think that's it idk let me know)

Brahms Heelshire

you had to sneak out at 3 am even to be able to leave to get them done in the first place.

did three days worth of food prep only to be back in under 26 hours

Brahms was NOT happy and wanted to hurt you but then his brain clicked

loves the feeling of your nails on his scalp, might forgive you (if you give him some extra kisses)

likes playing with your hair, even if you say no you owe him

will allow you to get them done every two months ONLY because he likes the feeling of you playing in his hair with your nails done.

"kiss?" Brahms asked in his childlike voice as he stood at the foot of your bed later that night. you rolled your eyes at his voice decision after his behavior earlier but allowed him into your bed for late-night cuddles. you placed a few kisses on his porcelain mask. "I'm sorry for leaving without telling you Brahmsy," you coaxed running your fingers through his hair as he settled in next to you. 

Micheal Myers

didn't even notice you were gone until he did the math, trips to the store DO NOT take 10 hours

hoe where is you at?

He kinda sulking when you get back

likes the hair didn't notice the nails AT ALL

pulls a single braid every chance he gets and he pulls it HARD

he learns that 10+ hours out means a new hairstyle to fuck with, sometimes he follows you

"oh come on Michael," you rolled your eyes at the sulking man on your couch. he doesn't even look at you until you stand directly in front of him. he ignores you and you eventually give up and continue about your evening. that is until you felt a tug on a braid that slipped out of your bonnet. a hard tug. you turn to find a smug-looking Micheal with the end in his hand. well, at least he's not mad. it took him until the third day to realize your nails were done.

Billy Loomis and Stu Matcher

you did tell them, they just forgot 

you come back and they acting like you went missing for nine years

Stu loves the hair while Billy loves the nails

you spend the next few hours giving kisses and being showered with praise

every other time you go at least one of them goes with you

you walked into Stu's house slightly confused at the silence. you were just about to call one of them when Billy came barreling down the stairs half dressed in his Ghostface costume. "um.. hi?" you tried as he quickly began searching you for injuries as Stu came down the stairs asking too many questions in quick succession.  after calming them down, you sat between them as they played with your hair and nails respectively. 

Thomas Hewitt

The Texas heat was making your hair hard to maintain so you asked Luda Mae if you could get a few days off so you could fix that

you had to go three towns over to get it done

to thank her you got Hoyt to drop Luda Mae off so you both could manicures and pedicures

Thomas was too excited to see you after three days to realize your hair was done

when he did he spent an unnatural amount of time just, looking at you??

he's so in love

also loves it when your nails massage his head, especially after a long day at work

misses you every time you leave but he gets to see a new hairstyle so it balances out, he does miss playing with your natural hair tho

"hi Tommy," you whisper as he crawls into bed next to you. he gathers you up into his arms and you give him a soft smile. he connects his lips to yours and you run your fingers through his hair and rub on his scalp. he shudders and a low sound of approval climbs out of his throat.

Vincent Sinclair

I mean he doesn't stop you from going anywhere, he's just pouty about it

spends the night you spent in the other town making wax figurines of you

he's so happy when you get back

you get your nails the color of his eye, a lovely brown with a pretty white design to accompany it.

absolutely obsessed with your hair. 

like he likes the nails but by god does he love your hair

the next time you go hes vibrating with excitement, he can't wait to see what you do next

"Vinny?" you call as you walk down into the basement. it did not take long for Vincent to come around the corner looking as excited as someone with a mask on his face could look. with hasty footsteps, he approached you hands fidgeting in excitement. it only took a small nod from you to have the lanky man all over you. he took your hand in his and watched the nails closely before his fingers played with your hair. the next morning you found a small wax figurine of yourself on your bedroom side table.

Jason Voorhees

poor baby, you almost gave him a heart attack

he thought you left him

sulky large man

when you come back he's like O-O 

very happy, thinks you're so pretty

puts flowers in your hair and is very gentle with it

likes to see your nails when you hold his hands

please give him a heads-up next time

he waits with wildflowers for you to return

Jason's fingers clumsily placed another flower in your hair. it dislodged another one that you quickly caught and handed back to him. it took a few more flowers for him to be satisfied and when he was he gave a grunt and lifted you to your feet. "ready to go home?" you asked the large man as he intertwined his finger with yours happily rubbing his thumb over the smoothness of your nails.

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this has nothing to do with the poll, it has been stewing in my drafts for a minute

POLY GHOSTFACE IS THE ONLY CORRECT OPTION good night

n e way lemme go study for my exams