#I’m not gonna say anything for like half a day. then if he doesn’t remember I will say something and jokingly make fun of him

[ervotica]

please don’t go, i love you so

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey

note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!

hunger games masterlist

Coriolanus is possessive.

It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.

It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.

It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.

He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.

There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.

You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”

His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.

“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.

He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.

“Nothing. I have you.”

“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”

He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.

“Coryo,” you pant.

“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.

“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.

You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”

The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.

“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”

“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”

“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.

“Wanna show me just where you belong?”

[steddieas-shegoes]

When Eddie is introduced to Jonathan, they both give each other a look that says “if you say anything, you’re dead” and naturally, Nancy clocks it immediately.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” they said at the same time, only growing the suspicion.

“Seriously? Do you know each other already?”

“No!”

“Yes, but-“

They glare at each other, but Eddie speaks up again.

“He bought from me a couple times. No big deal.”

Nancy looks between them, shakes her head. “There’s something else going on. But we’ve got bigger problems.”

And they did.

For months, their problems seemed to get worse by the day. It was a great distraction.

But honestly, anytime Eddie spent more time with Jonathan, it got harder not to say how they actually knew each other: a make out session in a bathroom at a party when Jonathan was yearning for Nancy.

He told Steve eventually, had to with the way he kept finding ways to avoid being around Jonathan and Steve got suspicious.

“If he said something to you about us, I’ll take care of it. He doesn’t get to say shit about what makes us happy.”

And Eddie couldn’t have Steve lose another fight, so he told him.

“So wait. You and Jonathan…”

“Made out. Yes.”

“Like…with tongue?”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember tongue being involved.”

“And hands?”

“They were there too.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips, lifts one to wipe over his face, then settles it back on his hip. “And you liked it?”

“Considering at the time my options were Jonathan or the girl in Hellfire who insisted I wasn’t gay because I looked at her during campaigns, yeah. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve been through.”

Steve huffed. “Yeah, but like. Compared to me-“

“Oh my god.”

“What?!”

“I cannot believe you’re jealous of Jonathan Byers. Again.”

“I’m not! I’ve never-“

Eddie raised his brows. “Never? Not once?”

“That was different!”

“That was worse.”

“I dunno, finding out your boyfriend has made out with the only other guy in Hawkins who’d be up for it is arguably worse.”

Steve pouted for hours. Eddie let him.

It was cute, alright?

And when he got over it, they made out for hours in his bed.

Steve, of course, was the one who told Nancy.

In his defense, he was very high, and Nancy had been pushing him all night, from the moment she caught wind that he might know how they knew each other.

Eddie went inside to grab them all water, and she pounced.

By the time Eddie got back, Steve was half asleep and Nancy was smirking at Eddie.

“You could’ve just said.”

“He’s never getting high for free again.”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

“He’s back to being a paying customer, too.”

Nancy laughed, startling Steve into opening his eyes. He smiled up at Eddie, no clue he’d just given up one of their secrets.

“Hi, baby. You know Nancy didn’t know about you and Jonathan?”

Eddie glanced over to see Nancy rolling on her side, laughing hysterically.

“Yeah. I’m sure that was on purpose. How about we get you to bed, superstar?”

He managed to get Steve onto the couch, where he immediately passed out.

Nancy hugged him, kissed his cheek, like she always did before leaving.

“It’s not a big deal, you know. He’s mentioned that he isn’t only into women. We’ve talked a lot about the Argyle situation.” She walked towards the door. “Steve will get over the jealousy eventually. It’s not like Jonathan wouldn’t have made out with him if he could have.”

She left before Eddie could respond.

Eddie suddenly understood exactly what Steve was feeling.

“Not gonna happen,” he mumbled to himself before joining Steve on the couch and pulling him close.

[veritasangel]

Taking care of you when you're sick

ft. Dabi, Bakugo, Deku, Shoto, Kirishima, Shinso

⋆ ˚｡⋆ any pov (kids could be adopted in shoto's) ୨୧˚ warnings: all sfw except bakugo's

wc: 1.4k

fwb - Katsuki Bakugo

What you and Bakugo had was nothing serious, just casual sex and nothing more as he always said.

He was always too busy with work for anything more.

And so there was really no need for him to come over when you were sick, right?

“What are you doing here?” you ask, voice hoarse as you open the door to see Bakugo casually walking in, hands full with heavy bags.

“Well you sounded like shit over the phone so thought I’d bring some things over to help.” he says as he begins unloading the bags, the inside contents varying from fruit, soup, medicine, and other useful things to random items that you don't even need, like those unnecessary curly straws.

“Uhh, thanks?” you question, “I’m not fucking you, you know?”

“Damn straight you’re not, I ain’t sleeping with someone who’s coughing their guts up. I’m not into that.” he blurts out, as he finishes emptying the bags.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness as he guides you to the sofa and begins setting up everything you might need on the coffee table.

“I got the day off work tomorrow so I’m gonna stay over tonight, you know just to make sure you don’t die or anything.”

“How nice.” you joke as you smile at him, “So you do care about me?”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” he mumbles, pulling you onto his lap and flicking through the shitty tv shows that he always mocks you for watching.

ex bf - Eijiro Kirishima

You two had broken up but also kinda not really, you still talk almost all of the time and occasionally end up in each other’s beds.

So it’s no wonder he’s the first over to look after you when he hears you’re sick, the two of you were basically still together without the title.

He's annoying but you love him.

“Pass the remote, this movie’s shit.” Kirishima says from where he’s leaning back on one end of the sofa.

“Get it yourself, I’m sick.” you groan, rolling over to your side.

“Oh yeah, right." he remembers, lifting his head to look at you, before sitting up to grab the remote and passing you a snack from the table, “You look cute like this, you know?”

“I look like a mess.”

“A cute mess.” he says, “my cute mess.”

“I'm not your anything, we broke up 3 months ago.” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“2 and a half.”

You turn your attention back to the TV, “Do the specifics really matter?”

“Alright sorry we can go with your rounded up 3 months then.” he says raising his hands in mock surrender, “My smoothie must've been good because your voice sounds better, you sound less like you smoke 30 a day.”

“You’re so charming.” you scoff but the affection in your tone is still there

“I love you too, my little snotty mess.” he teases before laying on top of you enough to almost crush you.    

older bf - Dabi

Always feels uncomfortable when someone’s sick, like he doesn’t know what to do

Tries his best though because he wants to take care of you the way you do, him.

Usually ends up looking up what to do on google and then does everything and anything he sees.

“Touya what is all this?” you mumble as you open your eyes from your nap.

“Well I looked up all of your symptoms, a bunch of possible things came up, there might be a 50% chance you’re dying.”

“How reassuring.” you joke, a knowing smile on your face.

He rolls his eyes, “Well it’s probably just a bug but gotta' cover all bases, you know?” he says “Apparently ginger is good for nausea so there's ginger tea on the side, and some ginger biscuits, a carrot and ginger soup and then also some ginger shot thing, I don’t know but I think that’s good.” He rambles on as he runs you through everything.

“Now that you’ve rested, if you just eat and keep hydrated, then I’ll run you a bath and you’ll feel better in no time.”

“Well I don’t need all of that, but I appreciate the consideration. You didn’t have to buy all this for me though.”

“Oh I didn’t, I used your card.”

And you just laugh as you reach for a biscuit because of course he did.

best friend - Hitoshi Shinso

Less vocal about his care but it’s there, you know it is.

Offers to do anything you need. Planned to buy groceries? He’s already out of the door to get them. Wanted to clean the house? He’s practically turned into a personal maid.

Will use his quirk to keep you in bed if he has to.

“You said you wouldn’t use you quirk on me again.” you sigh as you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I said I wouldn’t use it on you for no reason.” he adds in as he opens the windows in your bedroom. “Would you like some water?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“You already did.” he grins as you chuck your pillow at him, “Kidding, kidding, I don’t plan on using it again, as long as you do as you’re told and stay in bed.”

"Fine, fine." you give up. "Maybe I should get sick more often if it has you waiting on me hand and foot."

He smirks, handing you the pillow back, "I'd do that even when you're not sick, you know, if you actually let me, instead of acting all independent 25/8." he shakes his head, looking down at you.

coworker - Izuku Midoriya

The two of you are both pro heroes that regularly work together and when he overhears one of his favourite heroes is sick? He’s straight there

He’s very caring and selfless of course

He's responsible enough to make sure everything is stable before he up and leaves his duties.

Asks how you’re feeling about 20 times a minute because his mind is racing.

“Izuku, what are you-”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well. Have you been sleeping? Did you get injured-” he begins listing off a million different things that could be wrong.

“Chill, it’s just a small cold, no big deal.” you reassure him.

“Well still…you work yourself too hard and it’s having an effect on your immune system.” he says disappointedly, “You can’t be a hero if you don’t take care of yourself, you’re as bad as kacchan, if not worse.” he shakes his head

He’s immediately making himself at home in your kitchen, preparing a soup and when you tell him there’s canned soup in the cupboard, he scoffs, “I’m making a vegetable soup that my Mum used to make for me when I was sick, it’ll do you much better."

"It's okay I-"

"No, buts. Go and relax on the sofa or have a refreshing shower. I'll bring it to you when it's done. Can't have one of my best suffering, can I?" he says as your eyes meet his and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

husband- Shoto Todoroki

So tender and caring when you’re sick

He knows exactly how to take care of you and honestly probably knew you were getting sick before you did.

Has Fuyumi look after the kids so he can focus fully on you.

“No don’t worry, I have everything covered. Kids are gonna stay with Fuyumi for a few days and she’ll make sure they’re all sorted." He says, tenderly rubbing small circles on your hand.

"Touya offered to take them in but I don’t trust our little girls not to come back with some dodgy hairstyle with spray-in hair colour.” He jokes, earning you a small laugh.

"Good choice." you smile as he checks your temperature again.

"Since the medicine, your fever's going down slowly. Do you want another peppermint tea?" He says softly as he looks over your face with concern.

"No, just want cuddles." you mumble and of course he obliges. He's instantly under the duvet, pulling you in close to him as he wraps both arms securely around you.

"You're not worried about getting sick?"

"Nothing will ever keep me away from you, much less a small bug." he tuts as if it's obvious, kissing the top of your head.

༄ m.list

© veritasangel ↣ 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴

[tvnacity]

bets on whether my partner will remember that our 5 year dating anniversary is tomorrow? I think the odds are like 10k to 1

[luveline]

missing eddie and roan rn🥲

can we get something were roan brings home flowers she picked during recess for reader🫶

Eddie and Roan —Eddie’s daughter brings you a bouquet when you’re sick. (step)mom!reader

Roan skips up the path to the house with a big smile. “Dad, come on!” she demands.

Eddie’s trying to carry three paper bags of groceries and close the trunk at the same time. He is not receptive to criticism at this present moment. “Shut up, babe.” 

“You shut up!” 

“You first.” He drops the keys by accident. “Ro, can you come and grab these for me? Thank you.”

She races to grab the keys and then back to the door. “Dad, COME ON!” 

“You’re being super rude and irate right now but I forgive you,” Eddie says, yanking the door open to let her inside, “because I know you’re hangry.” 

“Not hangry!” she denies, bursting into the hallway and kicking her shoes so hard against the shoe rack that the top layer of your work shoes topple onto the floor. “Mom!” she shouts, one word lined heavily with joy even now. She’s been calling you mom for months and it doesn’t get any less exciting for her, clearly. “Y/N! Y/N, I got you something! Where are you?” 

“I’m in bed!” you call, sounding excited yourself, if a little confused. “What did you get me?” 

Eddie wasn’t aware of any gifts. He puts the groceries on the counter in the kitchen and follows his charge up the stairs, curious and not wanting to put stuff away anyhow. Roan tumbles into the master bedroom still wearing her red vinyl coat, door slamming into the wall, you wincing in bed. 

Eddie winces too. “Ro,” he says desperately, “come on, bub, she’s in bed rest, remember? So we’re being careful about loud noises. I told you twice today already.” 

“Sorry! I just want to see you,” she says, straight to your side and arms up expecting to be helped. 

You pull her into your lap. “I’m sick of resting anyways.” 

Eddie intercepts Roan’s hug to lean down over you and give you a gentle kiss, of which you are extremely receptive. He gets butterflies thinking about you to this day, and having you raise your chin to receive him intensifies them by half, then whole as your lips do finally touch. 

“Okay day?” he asks. 

“Really quiet,” you say, tugging Roan up into your chest before she can get jealous. 

“Head?” he asks. 

“Fine. Barely a headache anymore.” 

Eddie bites his lip. Not too long ago you were in a hospital bed practically catatonic. He cannot afford to be uncareful with you. You’re too much to him. 

“Promise?” he asks. 

You’re distracted from answering by small hands on your face. “Mommy, I was talking to you first.” 

“Sorry, baby, yes you were.” You sink further down. “Can you ever forgive me?” 

Roan could forgive you for almost anything. She wiggles where she’s sitting on your stomach, hands clumsy at the bottom of her coats zipper, her chest rising and falling after her sprint up the stairs. Eddie and Roan are still both cold enough to have it emanating from their coats, but you don’t care, you just want your after school cuddle.

Eddie peels out of his coat at the same time, takes his shoes off with some self-chastisement (mud upstairs is awful and rude of him and he’ll spend the evening trying to rub it out of the rug because you really like the rug and he likes you), and sits on the bed by your feet. 

“Oh, what have you got?” you ask warmly. 

Eddie bends his head to watch her pull flowers from her overall pocket, one small stem at a time. Daisies and buttercups with petals smaller than her fingernails. They keep coming, ten then twenty, maybe thirty flowers on your chest. The stems are broken, but they’re all more alive than anyone could have hoped for considering they’d been sandwiched in her pocket for hours. 

“These are for me?” you ask. 

“All for you. Except this one for dad,” she says, picking up one of the bigger daisies. “And maybe this one for me.” She grabs a buttercup for herself. 

“Aw, thanks baby. These are gonna make me better, huh?” 

She looks like him when she smiles. Cheesy, cute, she arranges the flowers in a bouquet in her hand and presents it to you grandly. “I picked them at school behind the wooden house. Do you like ‘em?” 

“I love them,” you pronounce, just as grand but not half as loud. 

“I love you.” 

“You cheesball,” Eddie says, rolling his eyes. 

“Ignore him.” You touch her cheek with a fondness that makes his jaw ache thinking about the love behind it. “I love you too.” 

“And you’ll be better soon,” Roan says. 

Eddie can answer that one. He holds your ankle through the sheets, and gives your calf a quick stroke. “She’s gonna be a hundred percent any day now, bug. Better be extra gentle with her to help her along.” 

Roan rubs her bouquet of flowers softly under your chin. “I’m gentle,” she whispers. 

You rake your fingers through her hair, a half centimetre a second, fingertips drawing down between her shoulders. Such a mom thing to do, Roan dissolves like sugar paper in the rain. 

Eddie smiles. “Alright, I’m jealous.”

[myspacebrat]

𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐱 “𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭” 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Three light taps on your window pull you out of the reverie of your favorite romance novel. You can’t help but to clutch your pink nightie closer to your icy skin as you tiptoe across your room and slowly with shaky hands move your curtain to the side to get a good look at who the silhouette belongs to. It’s none other than Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins high and your bully.

It started about a week ago, you were lucky to get through most of high school with your head down and completely unscathed by the bitchy hierarchy of teenage popularity. That was until Steve who sat behind you in English, noticed that you aced the mid semester test; which cost half your grade.

Since then you’ve been doing all of his book reports for him, you couldn’t deny you didn’t like the attention, even if he did make fun of you for being a prude nerd. So, this last book report you had devised a plan. Steve was always threatening to punish you and you wanted to see if he’d follow through with said threats, which left you to purposely bomb it.

You slowly lift your window, letting the cool air and the chirps from the crickets fill your room. “Hurry up!” Steve pressed, before climbing through rather clumsily. After he fully stood and dusted off his knees, he took a folded paper out of the back of his jean pocket. “What the fuck is this? Huh?” You can’t help the excited chill that runs through your body from his tone.

“What’s what?” You say, feigning innocence as you blink up at him with your biggest doe eyes. You were so close, you could practically feel the anger radiating off of him. “Don’t play stupid, me and you both know you’re not.” Steve chides, as his brows furrow down at you. “Why’d you purposely fail my book report, huh? Didn’t I tell you there’d be consequences if you don’t do what I say?” He grits and his jaw tenses before his eyes fall to your tits that are now peaked from the cold, the thin fabric of the nightie isn’t doing the best job at concealing them from the jock.

“I fucking meant it, okay? I’m gonna have to punish you.” His harsh tone doesn’t match the soft touch of his fingers that slide over your clothed nipples. “What do you want me to do, Steve?” You purr up at him as you bat your lashes. “You know how I’m always calling you a prude, baby? Well today’s your lucky day. I’m gonna show you how to suck a cock. Get down on your knees.” Steve demands.

Little did the king of Hawkins high know, you knew how to suck cock; you were experienced in pretty much everything sexual. Thanks to your fuck buddy and drug dealer, Eddie.

But you indulge his delusions by keeping up the innocent virgin act, just for a bit longer.

You quickly pop the button of his jeans and slide the zipper down its track, being met with a pair of tighty whiteys that you assume by the deep flush of his cheeks; he was just remembering he had on. “Cute.” You giggle, making him fist a hand in your hair and pull until a stinging sensation has you whimpering as tears sting your eyes. He finally removes himself from his confines—

His cock is huge, but you show no traces of even acknowledging that fact, last thing king Steve needed was an even bigger ego.

“Open up you fucking brat.” He hisses while his hand still tugs at your tresses. The soft tugs cause you to soak through your panties and leave you eager to rub your needy clit on anything for some relief. “That’s it, good girl.” Steve praises as he rubs his leaking tip across your wet tongue. Your lips finally close around it, before inching down and taking him expertly into the back of your throat. “Holy shit!” He jerks at the unexpected pleasure, as you continue to bob and gag on him. It’s almost too much considering he thought not even two minutes ago that he was going to have to guide you and talk you through it. No fucking way were you a prude virgin like he suspected, he’s been with plenty virgins. Nah, you were a little cock slut and fuck did he love the thought of his own personal whore who milked his cock and did his school work so he could stay the captain of the basketball team.

A deep groan falls from his lips when you begin to fondle his balls while you continue to suck him for all he’s worth. Spit falls onto the carpet below and you’re canting your hips as if a bitch in heat. You take two hands and twist around his shaft as you suck the tip, working him like a fucking pro. You look up at him with tears running down your soft cheeks and hunger in your eyes, and that absolutely does the jock in. You quickly notice the way his thighs shake and his moans grow louder, leaving you to lull your tongue out as you lick at his frenulum and continue twisting your hands around his spit soaked cock, ready to catch all of his warm creamy spend. Steve watches as his come shoots onto your tongue and down your throat, you swallow it all before sticking the pink muscle back out to show him how good of a girl you’d been by swallowing everything he’d so graciously given you.

“You’re a slut.” Steve states, with a blissed out look on his face. “I thought you were a virgin, why didn’t you tell me you weren’t a fucking prude?” He can’t help but smile from just receiving the best blow job of his life. Something about the little innocent girl who he makes do his work, but is actually a secret slut has him feeling possessive and as if he now has to assert some kind of claim over you.

“You didn’t ask.” You shrug as you wipe your chin. “Now can we move this along? The guy that taught me how to give that dynamite blow job will be here soon and I don’t wanna screw up my chances of getting fucked because he finds King Steve in my room.” You hand him his paper and push him back towards your window. “Your- wait what?” He asks in disbelief.

“This was fun, but you have to go. See ya later, Stevie.” Steve moves down your trellis in shock at what had just transpired. There was no way he was letting you go that fast, so when he made it to his car he decided to sit for a few, in order to catch a glimpse of who you were talking about. Just as Steve got comfortable against his leather seat, a beat up van was pulling up to the side of your house. But it wasn’t just any van, no it was Eddie Munsons van.

Well that just won’t do, come tomorrow morning you’re gonna know exactly who you belong to, no matter what Steve has to do in the process.

part two!

[star-girl69]

Music To Watch Girls To

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

sypnosis: is it wrong to be obsessed with clarisse? obviously not!!

a/n: i cant just write a drabble what is wrong w me it’s always gotta be a full fledged fic damn anyways i don’t like this one that much so don’t crucify me, but i hope you all enjoy!!

Music To Watch Boys To - Lana Del Rey

warnings: FRIENDS TO LOVERS GOOD LORD, all clarisse know is be mean to her friends, like girls, and lie, reader is a little insane this time…., it’s not watching clarisse train bc i got struck with inspo but you all will like it dw, there’s still muscles and watching clarisse fight, swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is an honorary ares cabin member bc i think it’s cute and i do what i want, y/n gets hurt like 20 times ITS FOR THE PLOT OK, kissing!!!!, like angst for half a sec not rly tho, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The only word you think of when you think of Clarisse is fuck.

It describes your feelings about her so accurately. The first time you saw her, you knew you had to have this girl. And the first time you heard her talk, she was calling some Hephaestus kid a dumbass for not fixing a dent in her armor correctly.

She was an asshole, a bully, whatever, and she was also the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. But, thank the Gods you became close friends with her brother Matty, and then Carrie, and then you practically knew everyone in the Ares cabin like your own siblings.

Even just friendship with Ares kids is an intense rollercoaster.

They admired your for your deadly skill with a bow, a few of them even openly claiming you were probably the best at camp. They were loyal and fierce, protective, funny and everything you could want in a replacement family. Your mortal parent went down a dark road after your godly parent went back to Olympus, and you had never felt that love that everyone craved.

Clarisse hated you at first, like she does everyone, until one day at the bonfire you were sitting with her and a few of her siblings, the fire was hot and it was never the same. You still remember her eyes on you, feeling intoxicated under the moon. Besides, the nights are made for secrets.

And it became a tradition.

You would look at each other next to the fire, and never speak of it again.

The rest of the time, she was like any friend. That same loyalty, focus, but sometimes you could swear she seemed to look a little longer.

After the arrival of Percy Jackson, Clarisse was especially on edge. She was supposed to be training, but she was instead sulking and ranting to Matty and Carrie.

“And he really thinks he killed that Minotaur? Doesn’t matter. That’s what everyone else thinks.”

“Talking about the new kid?” you ask, sitting on top of the picnic table next to their cabin.

“Oh, yeah,” Carrie mumbles. “Talking all about the new kid.”

Clarisse stops her angry pacing to send her a harsh glare.

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse.”

She slams her hand down on the table next to you, pointing her finger in your face.

“He’s a liar,” she hisses. “I’m gonna make him admit it.”

“Hm, okay,” you say, pressing her foot against her stomach and pushing her back. “And that’s totally logical. But have you considered that he actually killed the Minotaur?”

“I’ll punch you.”

“Oh, you love me, Clarisse,” you smile, sweeping your arms out in a big circle. “I’m the brightest part of your day.”

She glares at you.

Matty coughs to hide a laugh.

“Just ignore him!” you say. “I don’t get why you’re so obsessed over him anyways.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you,” she huffs, stubborn as ever.

“Okay, Clarisse,” you say, drawing out the words.

You miss Carrie and Matty shooting each other looks.

—-

Chiron announces the next capture the flag game later that day, and the next morning you’re heading off to the Ares cabin with your bow and armor in tow.

You walk in. They’re all adjusting their armor, polishing their weapons. A few smile at you and wave, but you head straight towards the back. Clarisse is there, helping some of her younger siblings pick out weapons from the secret weapons stash the Ares kids have curated over the years.

It’s Danny’s first game. He’s only twelve.

She looks up at you for a moment, which is about as much acknowledgment as you’re gonna get. You sit at the end of someone’s empty bed, right next to Danny.

“How you feelin’?” you ask. His face is twisted into a stone cold mask.

“Excited,” he says, like he practiced it in the mirror.

“Well, I’m scared.”

He looks at you and frowns.

“You’re the best archer in camp. Matty says so.”

You shrug. “I may be the best archer, but I’m nowhere near the best fighter.”

He nods, thinking hard like the whole world is suddenly starting to make sense.

“Hey, if I promise to keep a look out for you from the trees- will you watch out for me on the ground?”

He doesn’t need your assurance. He’s a child of Ares, they’re prebuilt with the lust for battle. But you know how to play all of them like a fiddle. They like feeling important, and he’s only twelve. It doesn’t hurt you to give this to him.

You stick out your hand and he grabs it.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Y/N,” Clarisse says. You realize she’s been standing there for a while. “Are you here to distract everyone or for a reason?”

“You know, I would welcome you into my cabin warmly.”

Her face remains stone cold. Danny runs off. Clarisse can be some sort of halfway nice, but rarely, and most of the time everyone just knows her cruel words, her ruthless tactics in battle, and her misleading words and smiles.

“You’re no fun,” you pout.

“You’re the one who sticks around. No one’s holding you hostage- you can leave.”

“I need a dagger.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. “Wow, you actually came here for something? What happened to yours?”

“Broke,” you shrug. “The handle fell off. Weird, whatever.”

She hums, looking through the daggers hung on the wall. “This one.”

She hands it to you. It’s similar to your old dagger, except a lot sharper and a lot more sturdy. But it’s the same style you’re used to. You wonder if she knows that or not- Ares kids do notice everything.

But for Clarisse to actually do something like that with intention is rare.

“I like it,” you say. “Thanks!”

She hesitates for a second.

“Keep it.”

You look at her. “I can give it back.”

“I already told you to keep it. Don’t be pathetic and make me reassure you.”

“Okay, Clarisse,” you roll your eyes.

—-

Your position on capture the flag is always the same.

Carrie, Matty and Clarisse hunt in the woods on the ground, and you get thrown up into some random tree to shoot arrows at anyone you see.

The idea is, they see the arrow coming from up above and look to the trees, only for Clarisse, Matty and Carrie to ambush them on the ground.

It’s only the third game you’ve employed this tactic, so the blue team is starting to catch on.

After Chiron gives his speech you could probably say yourself, you head over to the three of them, holding your arm out to Matty and the red bandana. He ties it around without saying a word, Carrie reaches over and scolds you for not tying your armor tight enough.

“Blah, blah, blah,” you say. “I’ll live.”

“Yeah,” Carrie snorts. “Because I fixed it.”

“Shush,” Clarisse hisses. She finishes talking to a few more of her siblings, and they take their companies off into the woods. She turns back around. “I have a different plan today.”

Carrie and Matty grin dangerously.

There’s something in between the three of them, some sort of matching glint in their eyes.

“Okay, did I miss something? Why are you guys being so… scary?”

“You’ll see,” Clarisse says, her eyes dark.

Gods, it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

The great thing about being up in the trees is you get to see everything.

You get to see the way Clarisse grins while she fights, the way she whips her spear around like it weights nothing, the way sweat forms at her brow- and the way her muscles flex. That’s the best part.

Her arms, her legs, her stomach, every part of Clarisse is just lean and toned muscle.

It makes you want to betray yourself in a way that would permanently embarrass you.

You follow them, of course, even though you have no idea what the hell is happening or what the plan is. There’s a reason she’s not telling you the plan. Why?

When you walk past the woods where you normally hunt, you start getting fidgety.

“Ok, guys, seriously. Tell me what’s going on.”

You realize you’re heading towards the side of the big hill, starting the climb up through the trees and rocks.

Clarisse turns around.

“Stop. Worrying.”

You grit your teeth. “I’m not worried. I’m just confused.”

She sighs, signaling to Carrie and Matty.

“You know,” she mutters. And they leave, so it’s just the two of you.

They spit up, making their way on the farthest two ends, all leading to the same ledge.

She grabs your wrists. “Stop cracking your fingers. It’s annoying, and you’ll hurt ‘em.”

“Then tell me what’s going on.”

She lets go of one of your wrists, but keeps her tight grip on the other, forcing you to keep pace behind her.

“I’m not gonna tell you again, Y/N. Don’t worry. I’m not going to put you in danger, obviously.” She laughs, as if the idea is ridiculous. “You’re a damn good archer.”

“Oh, my Gods. Did you just compliment me?”

She tenses up, finally realizing she did it.

“D-don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I won’t. It will just be our little secret, won’t it?”

You bite your lip as you smile so you don’t burst out laughing.

“Sure,” she mutters, and you don’t miss the way she stares at your lips. She clears her throat, finally letting go of your wrist. “Percy Jackson-”

“Who’s a baby.”

“-attacked us last night.”

You raise an eyebrow, walking next to her. “Did you attack him first?”

She doesn’t answer that.

“I doubted you would join us. I just didn’t want you to be alone in the woods.”

“Why?”

“Hm, I saw Annabeth as we left the bathrooms. She knows, she knows we’re gonna get revenge so Luke’s gonna go straight for the flag because we’re not in the woods.”

“So you’re just sacrificing the entire game for revenge? Against a 12-year-old?”

“Revenge,” she mutters, thinking over it. “That’s a fun word.”

She smiles, looking at you.

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

—-

The rest of the walk continues in silence, until you can see Carrie and Matty in the distance, both waiting for Clarisse’s signal. She grins.

“Now, why don’t you just stay behind me and draw an arrow, and tell me if anyone’s coming. And when he’s distracted, you’ll sneak around behind him and block him from escaping, hm?”

You look around the forest. “Okay. But, Clarisse-”

She smacks her hand over your face. “I don’t need your morality right now. I just need you to keep those pretty eyes open and be our lookout.”

“Fine,” you hiss as you throw your hand off her mouth.

“Thank you,” she smiles, sarcastically. “Was that so hard?”

You mock her under your breath, but she signals to Carrie and Matty. They all start walking forward, trying for stealth, but your feet make sink into the gravel. He hears them. He sits up.

You don’t know anything about Percy Jackson, except for the fact he supposedly attacked the three musketeers you call your friends and possibly killed a Minotaur.

True to your word, you stay behind Clarisse, watching as she lifts her helmet off, throwing it to the ground.

Her spear sinks into the dirt.

“Flag’s that way,” Percy says. “It’s not here.”

“We know.”

You start walking out from behind her. His eyes flick between all four of you.

“Yeah, glory’s fine.” You can feel her eyes on you. “Revenge is more fun.”

She looks up at her spear, slamming it down, and you hear the familiar crackle as it lights up. Red hot electricity.

She laughs a bit.

He scrambles for his sword and spear, forgoing his helmet. They close him in. You walk around Carrie and behind him. His eyes move between you and Clarisse, but there’s nothing he can do to stop the four of you from surrounding him.

“No maiming. It’s like the one rule.”

His stance isn’t even close to correct.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll lose dessert privileges for a while,” she fake frets, looking up at her spear. She smiles and looks back at him. “I’ll live.”

Her face twists into a mask of focus and she swings out at him. He manages to dodge her first hit, and block the second with his shield.

She looks at Carrie and Matty. They lunge forward, attacking him together, and he certainly is a demigod- he has a natural talent.

But you can only really focus on the way she lifts her spear back over her head.

She grunts and spins, shocking him, before jabbing forward at his armor, making him fall back over the log he used to be laying on, right at your feet.

“I’m actually not interested in maiming or killing you, believe it or not,” she says, standing over him. “I just want you to admit you’re a fraud. It’d make me feel better. Are you feeling up to that yet?”

The way she holds her spear, the way she says it’ll make her feel better- you miss the way he swings out with his shield, hitting you in the shins.

“Fuck,” you hiss, leaning down to touch your burning leg. “Oh, fuck, that hurt.”

Percy grunts and takes off running.

“Y/N,” Matty says, a silent question in his concerned voice.

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shaking your leg out.

Clarisse glares at his retreating figure.

“I guess he has a fucking death wish,” she whispers, voice full of a deadly promise.

She grunts and launches herself over the log, Carrie and Matty following. You straighten yourself and take off running after them. You leg does burn, but you still manage to keep pace. Besides, Matty is already far ahead, surprising him and knocking him down from the path, making him tumble through the woods and land on the beach.

Matty and Carrie wave their swords at him from the right. He pants and breathes heavily, backing up, but when he turns around to run- Clarisse is there.

You draw your bow again, out of habit.

The arrows you use aren’t actual arrows of course, but filed down to little circle rocks at the end. They won’t kill you, but they fucking hurt.

You can’t help but giggle as he falls onto his back, scared just by Clarisse being there.

She laughs too, before all three of them launch into an attack.

They push him back, towards you, and you step back with them, waiting for the perfect moment.

But your eyes drift up to Clarisse. She’s hanging back for just a second while Matty and Carrie jab at him. She looks… proud. She looks really fucking proud that you’re laughing at this 12-year-olds misery.

But Clarisse was right. Revenge is fun. And you hate it, but you can’t stop it.

You smile back at her, and it’s like those nights at the bonfire, you know you’ll never speak of it again. It doesn’t matter. Right now, there’s angelic music playing in your head, and you’re watching her. You’re watching her, the sweat on her brow, the way her hands clasp her spear.

Her face twists into something else.

“Y/N!” she shouts, but Carrie and Matty pushed him too far, you didn’t move back enough- distracted by her- and you slam into each other, a tangle of limbs and metal.

He does this awkward sort of flip over you, landing a few feet behind you. You drop your bow in favor of catching yourself, and it gets caught on his shield and dragged along with him.

It’s a blur, you yelp as you go down, Percy groans.

They’re all standing there, tense and watching the way Percy stands up with your bow in his hands. His stance is nowhere near correct, it actually makes you cringe more than your bruised side after the fall.

Why the hell are you the one who keeps getting hurt?

Percy let’s out a breath. “Why don’t we all just walk away and forget this happened?”

“You just made that impossible,” Clarisse hisses.

You just want to get an ice pack on your leg and sit down. You’re tired. You want to boss Clarisse around as payment for bringing you here.

“Okay, okay, just stop. This is stupid, all of you. He’s, like, 12. He didn’t do it on purpose, you’re just attacking him for no reason.” Carrie and Matty look at the ground. Clarisse glares at you.

You turn around and face Percy. “Just go, okay.”

He looks between you and Clarisse.

“O-okay,” he breathes.

You can feel her move, hear her footsteps in the sand, her spear cutting through the wind. She comes around you, and Percy gets scared, so he raises up the bow and let’s it go- pointed straight at her face.

But it never hits her. It hits you, of course, because you have the worst luck in the world.

It hits you right in the chest, and it doesn’t kill you, but Percy is strong and it knocks the wind out of you.

Clarisse throws her spear to the ground and catches you, screaming your name at the top of her lungs.

Gods, this was so stupid. All of it. He didn’t mean to hurt you, he meant to stop her from attacking him. Because Clarisse is bloodthirsty. She cares about no one else but herself.

You were stupid to think she ever did.

But even through all of this, everyone treating you like a rag doll, you stare into Clarisse’s eyes. She’s frozen. She’s watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest, she’s watching the way you press your hand into your chest, trying to breathe, she’s looking at the fear in your eyes.

You’re terrified. And Clarisse looks the exact same way you feel.

You mouth her name.

Carrie and Matty are gathered around you, telling you to just breathe, take a breath in, but you can’t.

Clarisse let’s go of you and ignores your hands trying to hold her back, ignores Carrie warning her.

Oh, Gods, you’re in love with her and she’s just your friend, but it all hurts and you just need her right now.

Percy tries to scramble away from what he’s done, but Clarisse grabs him by his shirt and holds him up.

You think she’s actually going to kill him- then the conch sounds.

You all turn around.

The blue team runs to the beach, sticking the red flag into the ground. They all cheer loudly, Luke and Chris at the center of it.

Clarisse throws Percy back down on the ground.

She picks up your bow. Matty helps you stand up, you can breathe now, and you’re really fine. You just couldn’t for a minute. You don’t look at Clarisse, even though you want to.

—-

The four of you end up at the sword practice field, sitting on picnic tables like you did that one day.

Matty touches a few scratches on his arms from where he burst through the woods, scraping himself on something thorny.

Clarisse walks towards a dummy and starts attacking it. She lets all her anger out on it. They didn’t win, and her revenge is incomplete so, its not even worth it. You could have told her that from the beginning, but whatever.

Clarisse can do whatever she wants. She doesn’t listen to you, she doesn’t care about you- not as much as you want her too. Not as much as you care about her.

She’s so wonderfully in her element it makes you want her more. This is where she belongs, in the field in the sun, with her spear in her hands. She belongs here, where she feels closest to her father and farthest away from her responsibilities, from the constant battle it is for her to keep her emotions in check.

Even after a minute of her obliterating the dummy, she seems better. Finally, after another minute, she slows down until she stops.

You don’t stop looking at her until she turns around and looks at you. She breathes out.

“Are you okay?” she asks, sitting down on the opposite end of the bench.

“Fine. Just got the wind knocked out of me.”

She hums.

“C’mon, Matty,” Carrie says. “Let’s go back to the cabin, I’m thirsty.”

You’re not ready to get up yet, you’re too comfortable here on the bench, it’s too easy to breathe in the valley.

Clarisse flexes, stretching her spear over her head, and you watch her. Of course you watch her. You don’t think you’ll ever just be able to look at her in passing- you’ll always have to focused, you’ve always have to have your eyes totally and completely on her.

Like she’s some book you have to study. Like she’s all you’ve ever wanted to look at.

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” she mumbles.

You sit up straighter. “I’m not. You’re just flexing dramatically all over the place, of course I’m gonna take notice of it.”

“Okay, sure,” she taunts, and you remember what happened, you remember how you felt when she walked away from you to continue with her revenge.

“I-I’m gonna go back to my cabin.” You don’t wanna be around her, not right now at least. “See you later, Clarisse.”

She stands up immediately. “I’ll walk you.”

“No, thanks, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, you got hurt because of me.” She crouches down and tugs up your pant leg. “How’s your leg? Your side?”

Matty, Carrie and Clarisse too, sometimes, are always touching you and doing things for you. It’s sweet. They aren’t good with the words, but they show you they love you, and that means more than anything else.

If she hadn’t done what she did, if she really cared about you, then you wouldn’t mind her touching you like this. You would love it.

“Clarisse- get off of me,” you shake your leg out, which hurts a bit, but she lets go and stands up.

Her face twists into one of anger, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m sorry you got hurt. I feel really bad about it, so just let me do this for you.”

“It’s not about that,” you mumble, cursing yourself and hoping she doesn’t hear you. Of course she does.

“Then what’s it about?”

You try to turn away, but she clamps her around your wrist and tugs you back towards her.

“What’s it about, Y/N?”

She holds your hand to her chest.

You both know what it’s about.

“Just stop, Clarisse,” but your body betrays you and you make no move to push her away. She notices, of course she notices, and she pulls you closer. “We’ve been dancing around each other for months.”

She blinks and her grip on your wrist loosens.

“And it was fun. It was a fun game, okay, Clarisse. But you can stop playing it now. You showed me today that your care more about yourself then you ever could me. I’m sick of it.” You tug your hand away. “I’m so sick of it, Clarisse.”

She grips you tighter again.

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m running around looking like a fool, and you think I care about myself? You think I don’t care about you?”

Your breath is a little shaky again.

“You could have helped me and you chose revenge.”

“For you.”

“What?”

“He slammed his shield into your leg, knocked you over, and then shot you in the chest. Of course I wanted revenge. Not for me, it was about that at first, but then, Gods, did you do something to him?”

You laugh. She smiles, staring at your face like she’s seeing you for the first time.

“Like, he just kept coming after you, I don’t get it. But I… I like you. Like, like you. And I don’t know what that means, but I don’t really care. I just… want you. I want to be near you all the time. And I go crazy when you’re with someone else. I want to touch you all the time, hug you, hold you… I want to kiss you so bad I think I’m gonna fucking explode.”

Fuck is always the first word you think of when you think of her. It used to be because she made you so angry with the secrets, but now it’s just the things the says make you wonder how much more you can fall in love with her.

“Well, I don’t really want you to explode,” you roll your eyes. “That’d be too messy. Besides, I-”

“You’re always such a fucking worrier.”

She plants her hands on your face and presses her lips to yours. You can feel the slight desperateness she won’t say, but she’ll tell you with her body. You can feel everything she won’t show, won’t say. How beautiful you are. How scared she was. How much she wanted you and for how long.

You feel it all just by her lips, and you can’t help but wonder what more she can tell you.

She pulls back and smiles.

“If you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny it.”

“I’m the light of your life, Clarisse.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, grabbing you tighter and kissing you again. You grab onto her arms, smiling. You always wondered what he muscles would feel like against you.

There’s only one word to describe the way it feels.

Fuck.

—-

clarisse when she accidentally told y/n she has pretty eyes: PLEASE DONT NOTICE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

y/n my ladybug not noticing: 🧍‍♀️

—-

y/n and clarisse just being insane together WDYM YOURE LAUGHING WHEN A KID FALLS OVER STOP

—-

clarisse: bitch stop WORRYING

y/n: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT FROM ME SHUT UP

—-

clarisse and y/n both pretending that clarisse giving her a dagger wasnt literally a declaration of love and also clarisse throwing her spear down to catch y/n???? bitch she’s in LOVE

—-

taglist:

@jazhandzzz

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 22

part 1 | part 21 | ao3

“…Go ahead,” he relents with a heavy sigh.

He turns the radio back on for background noise, and Robin launches herself into a breathless recap of every minute detail she’s ever learned about Eddie Munson. Genuinely impressive how quickly the words come out; Steve thinks that if her dream of becoming a linguistics researcher ever falls through, she’s got a bright future ahead of her as one of those speedreaders who rattle off the fine print at the end of pharmaceutical ads.

Warning: Discussion of Eddie Munson may cause nausea, heartburn, palpitations, sweaty armpits, and an inconveniently timed half-chub any time you use a pocket knife. Talk to your doctor to see if Discussion of Eddie Munson is right for you!

“Which brings us to tonight,” she’s saying when he zones back in. “Let’s examine the facts, shall we?”

“Must we?”

“Yes, we must.”

She makes a loose fist, lifting her pointer finger with an aggressive flourish to kick off her ‘list of reasons Eddie has a big, fat crush on you.’ “Fact number one: he was conveniently wearing a super nice outfit.”

“He said he ran out of laundry.”

“And we’re buying that?” she scoffs. Her middle finger springs up to join the first one. “Two: he was so disgustingly up in your personal space. Like, you really should have seen it; it was—”

Mwah. Mwah mwah mwah. “Yeah, I don’t need another demonstration.”

“Three” —there goes her ring finger— “he came to a movie rental store that you just so happen to work at and then left without renting a movie.”

“Because you did something to spook him!”

“Which brings me to my fourth and final point.” Her pinky lifts up to join the team, fingers spread wide like a paper fan, and she telescopes her arm to shove them back and forth under his nose until he goes a little cross-eyed and bitches about her distracting the driver.

“Cut it out! You want me to drive us into someone’s trash cans?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Yeah, well I’m sending you the invoice when it scratches up the paint.”

She retreats to her side of the car, curling her back against the door and repeating, “My fourth and final point: I think he thinks we’re dating.”

“And? Everyone thinks we’re dating.”

“No, everyone wants us to be secretly dating,” she corrects. “But I’m pretty sure Eddie actually thinks I’m your girlfriend. You remember last week when you dropped me off at school?”

He does. Eddie had actually been there early for once; had been sitting on a bench out by the soccer fields, looking surly and half-asleep while he sucked down a cigarette. Hair all messed up by the wind. Looked kind of dangerous. Wild.

“He was, like, fully glaring at me when I walked into school that morning, and then he was super rude to me in band. Which, at the time, I was like, ‘oh, well I guess that’s just Eddie no one can ever tell what his mood’s gonna be like from day to day,’ but noo-o-ow…”

She starts squirming in her seat again, excitement overflowing as she finally cracks the case. “Now it all makes sense! Oh, my god! He totally hates me because he thinks we’re dating, and I’ll bet you anything he either didn’t know we work together or didn’t expect me to be there tonight and he totally, one hundred percent was there to flirt with you because he’s in lo—”

“Okay, Detective,” he cuts her off, because the tips of his ears are burning, and he doesn’t think he can handle her saying the L word out loud right now. “You’ve made your point, thank you.”

“Tell me I’m right.”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on.” She jabs at his side. “Tell me I’m right tell me I’m right tell me I’m—”

“—A fucking menace? Gladly.”

“Translation: I’m right and you’re mad about it,” she smirks, victorious.

Steve knocks his forehead against the wheel as he pulls up to her curb. “Why do I drive you places?”

“Because you love me." She flips her visor down to freshen up her lip balm, mumbling around the chapstick, "I’m adding Surly Best Friendlish to my list of fluencies; I think it'll really make my college applications pop."

"Yuh huh," Steve grumbles. The thought of Robin leaving for college always sits in his gut like raw bread dough — thick and heavy and gross, rising to form a swollen lump in his throat. "Didn't you already submit all of those?"

"Yes, I diiiid," she sings, shimmying her shoulders with pride. "Duke's gonna say yes, I just know it. Picture it with me: Robin L. Buckley," she gestures to an imagined marquee somewhere just beyond the windshield, "class of 1990."

Steve swallows the urge to be a sulky dick about it. "They'd be lucky to have you," he says quietly.

"Nope. No no, none of that. No moping." She tugs at his arm; links their elbows together. "You're not allowed to mope when we have a party to get ready for."

"No, you have a party to get ready for. I'm going home."

"Steeeve-uh!" Holy shit. He just had to be soulmates with the whiniest lesbian in a 500 mile radius, didn't he? "Come to the bonfire party with me!"

"Yeah, that's a no."

“It’ll be fun!"

It most certainly will not be. "You really want me to go freeze my ass off in the woods all night while a bunch of former classmates talk shit about me the second they think I'm out of earshot?" He's been to enough of his parents' 'networking events' over the years to know exactly how that'll go. A full night of subtly closed-off body language, smirking whispers and judgmental glances that dart away as soon as he meets them head on. Fuck that. "Thanks, but I'll pass."

He just wants to go home. Feels momentarily sick with the desire to drive himself to Loch Nora.

"What did I say about moping?" Robin asks. She shoves into his space, hugging his arm tighter and deploying her most lethal sad wet kitten face (and Steve doesn't even like cats; this shouldn't fucking work on him.) "Pleeeease," she begs. "Vickie's going to be there, and I could really use a friend."

"So ask a friend!"

"I am, dipshit!"

Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Goddamn this woman. Steve hangs his chin to his chest in defeat, notices the weird stain he got on his shirt during work. "I have some conditions," he concedes.

She throws her arms out wide. "Condition me, baby!"

"First— ew. Okay, I don't like that; don't call me baby." Yeesh, and furthermore, yuck. "First, I'm borrowing one of your shirts, and you're probably never getting it back."

"Understandable,” she nods as she gets out of the car. Steve follows her out, propping his elbows on the roof.

"Secondly,” he continues, “I'm getting very drunk at this stupid party, and you're figuring out how we get home."

She reaches out over the top of the car; gives his hand a quick squeeze when he puts it in hers. "That's three things," she says fondly, "but I can work with that."

—

part 23

tag list part 1 below the cut; comment if you'd like to be added tomorrow (not tagging ageless or under 21s unless we're mutuals or you let me know your age ✌️)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @questionablequeeries @runninriot @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutabed @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy

[omnomnomdomcaps]

Nevermore - Remastered

Another Spooky Season remaster, this time featuring some awesome original art from @spaced-goddess. Go check her blog out!

“Alright now, up we go,” came Mrs. Winthrop’s soft voice, as she picked her onesie-clad student up from the classroom floor and placed her onto her desk, their school principal looking on as she did. “Can’t be having a talk with you while you’re crawling around on the floor.” 

Amber didn’t resist. She didn’t say anything, didn’t fight back against her teacher’s choice of words - after all, walking without tripping seemed to have become her latest challenge, and she had the carpet burns on her knees to prove it. Without a word of protest, the girl allowed herself to be picked up and placed on the desk, hiding her blushing face away as much as she could. 

This was a far cry from the girl who first arrived in Mrs. Winthrop’s preschool classroom on Halloween day, half a year before. That Amber was headstrong and defiant, fuming constantly that some saboteur had seemingly drugged her and messed with her brain, leading her down a road of failed tests and embarrassing accidents. She was furious that she had to drop out of the college and come here to relearn her basics, and she let everyone around know it. 

That Amber was proud. She was sure of herself. And even through all of her setbacks, she was confident. “Whatever,” she would snarl, “fine.I’ll just re-do some stuff and get out of here. I’m still an adult. I’m still better than all these dumb little brats.” 

As the school year wore on, though, those “dumb little brats” could actually keep up with their preschool lessons. And Amber? Not so much. 

While her classmates learned their numbers and letters and shapes, Amber just stared blankly, trying and failing to understand what the teacher was talking about, only to be distracted by the slightest hint of a pretty bird or a squirrel outside the window. Again and again, those “dumb little brats” ended up having to help her with shape blocks and stacking rings, while they played with their ‘advanced’ toys. Again and again, they would have to remind Amber to use the potty - or, more often, tell Mrs. Winthrop when the girl had an accident. 

Maybe, if Amber had known that she was under a witch’s curse, she wouldn’t have been so shocked at how it all turned out. Maybe, if she had heard the incantation, heard that the spell would lower her abilities to the level of her maturity, she would have understood why her stubborn attitude wasn’t getting her anywhere. But of course, these were truths she never would have accepted, or believed. 

“Amber, sweetie,” Mrs. Winthrop began, “we need to talk about your progress.”

The girl said nothing. Her face was turned away, her hands hidden between her legs.

“Now now,” the principal chimed in, a stern air of authority in his voice, “your teacher made you a very special potty chart, don’t you remember?”

Amber turned her eyes briefly to the wall, turning them back just as quickly. It was embarrassing for her to think about - the way her teacher had set it all up to help encourage her re-training, the whole class cheering her on like their little sister as she proudly donned her training pants. But of course, her results were anything but encouraging, and she was soon taken out of pullups altogether.

“Do you think you did a good job with your potty training?” Mrs. Winthrop asked.

The girl hung her head in silence. 

“And do you think you’ve been doing a good job with your preschool lessons?” the teacher added. 

“N-no,” Amber finally muttered, tears beginning to well in her eyes.

“And do you know what we’re going to have to do now?” came the principal, his arms crossed as he stood in front of the girl.

“Am I… Am I gonna havta stay in preschool again next year?” Amber's voice began to crack. 

Mrs. Winthrop let out a heavy sigh. “No, honey… I’m afraid it doesn’t look like you’re ready for preschool at all.”  

The girl was in shock. “B-b-b-b-” she stammered, “but… but I’m a big girl! I’m a big girl!”

 “Oh?” the principal offered flatly, “And what do you think makes you a big girl?”

“‘Cause - ‘cause I’m…” Amber took her hands out from between her legs, trying to emulate the “I’m this many!” gesture that her classmates would often make. She wanted to show that she was nineteen… or was it twenty now? Was twenty more than nineteen? Would she need to use more fingers than the other preschoolers did? After all, she was a lot bigger than they were. But then again, they were a lot smarter than she was…  

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Winthrop intervened, motioning the girl’s hands back toward her lap, “I think the poor thing’s gone and confused herself again.”

It was at that moment that another set of footsteps made their way into the classroom, and they belonged to Tom, Amber’s college boyfriend. Through all her failures and misadventures, he was the only one who stuck by her, seeming to enjoy having to take care of her more and more. And now, here he was again to pick her up from school.

“Daddy!” the girl blurted out instantly - he’d encouraged her to start calling him that, and it came naturally to her now - “They tolded me I can’t go preschool! They tolded me I’m not ready! But I’m a big girl! Big girl! Big girl big girl BIG GIRL!!” Amber shrieked, pounding the desk with her balled-up fists as the tears began to stream down her face.

“Oh my,” Tom turned to the two adults, unfazed, “has she been causing trouble?”

“Ah, you know how she can be,” Mrs. Winthrop shrugged, “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for her, trying to keep up with these classes with the level she’s at.” 

“Maybe,” Tom nodded, a wry smile beginning to form, “or maybe she just needs a change and a nap.

“Up we go, princess,” he turned to the girl, lifting her from the table and into his arms, “time to go home.” 

“BIG GUWL!” Amber kept shouting, hands still waving in the air, “BIG GUWL! BIG GUWL!”

“I’m sure you will be one day,” her boyfriend-turned daddy assured her, patting her padded bottom, “but for now, we’re gonna find you a nice daycare, and first we gotta change you out of that stinky diapy.”

“But I’m not stin-” the girl protested meekly, before freezing halfway through.

That, of course, was when the smell and the sensation hit her. Of course she was stinky - she'd probably filled her diaper while shouting about what a big girl she was, while insisting that she belonged in a preschool where she was nothing more than the pants-pooping laughing stock of the class. 

As the last remnants of her pride crumbled away, Amber started to imagine just how far she had left to fall. She wondered, as she was carried away from that classroom for the last time, was she going to be the laughing stock of her daycare, too? It was all too much for her mind to handle, and so the girl simply started to bawl. She cried, helplessly, like the little baby she had become. She cried, helplessly, like the little baby she had now been for months. She cried, helplessly, like the little baby she was going to be for a long, long time.     

[bearrrrrrr7]

perfect

Haven't posted anything in like, 8 years? Got inspired today. goodbye. (don't even remember how this shirt works lmaooo)

“yo , Syd!” Carmy calls from his office. He has a hangnail he’s been chewing on. Mostly nerves, he thinks. Also because it fucking hurts. If he starts bleeding his wife is gonna kill him. 

“‘Sup, Carm?” She pushes her way through the door and peaks her head in, “Yeah?” 

“Uh, next week, on like-” he checks his phone for the date again, “wednesday, yeah Wednesday, I’m gonna be out. Gonna need you to take over until like-Monday, I think? You can call me, just won’t be in.” 

Syd scrunches her eyebrow “uh, no-yeah that’s fine, for sure. Just like - why? Are you okay? You don’t normally, like, spring this shit on me.” She fully enters his office at this point. Arms are crossed, not in an annoyed way, more so because the giant fan in his office is directly pointing at her. 

“No yeah, uh, fine.” He coughs into his shoulder. He shouldn’t feel awkward about this, he’s a fully grown man with two baby girls and a beautiful wife. “Just a procedure, medical, uh, procedure I gotta get done on Wednesday. They told me not to be on my feet too much for the next couple days.” He’s not making eye contact with Syd, fully focused on color coordinating the highlighters in his desk. 

“Procedure? Dude, what? Are you fucking okay?” Syd asks, walking a little closer to him. She has half the nerve to put the back of her hand to his forehead. 

“Yes, Syd. Jesus. I’m fuckin’ fine okay? I mean it, just - like, could you make sure this shit doesn’t burn down while I’m gone?” He runs his hand through his curls. He needs a cigarette. He tries to picture your disappointed face so he doesn’t reach for his emergency pack. 

“Yo, Syd!” Syd and Carmy both whip their heads to the door, it’s Richie. With a shit eating grin on his face. 

“What, Richie?” Syd scoffs. “Were you invited here or did you just decide to insert yourself?” 

“Insert myself. Anyways, just so you don’t pop a blood vessel, Carm’s getting surgery to he can fuck his wife without protection. Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s gonna be juuuuuust fine” he says, winking, stupid fucking grin still on his face. 

“Jesus, Richie” Carm and Syd both say at the same time. Carmy has his head in his hands. “Don’t listen to ‘im.” Carmy finally says. “I mean - yes. I am getting, you know, uhm, that. Vasectomy. But like - that wasn’t the main reaso-” 

“Hey Carmy?” Syd interrupts him. 

“Mm?” 

“Good luck on your procedure on Wednesday and I’ll see you Monday, okay?” 

“Thank you, Chef” Carmy breathes out a laugh. Syd laughs too. “Fuckin’ Richie” he says. 

“Fuckin’ Richie” Syd agrees. 

-

Carmy shows up to the house 3 hours later. Apparently everyone in the bear had heard Richie’s loud fucking announcement about his surgery. His hangnail did start bleeding but he found a paw patrol bandaid in the backseat of his car. 

He hears laughter once he reaches the back door, he smiles to himself. 

“Where are my cubs?” He yells as soon as he gets through the door. He hears screaming and giggling and a jumble of “Me! I here, daddy!” and before he can get a good glimpse of them he has tiny, chunky arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Where’s mama bear’s love? She chopped liver, or what?” You come into the doorway. Your hair’s a bit disheveled. You have tiny, blue and white plaid shorts on with a shirt that has so many stains on it you might as well consider it tie-dye. You have marinara sauce on your right cheek. You’re so fuckin’ pretty, he thinks. 

“Hi, sweetheart” he says. He gets up from his crouched position, two tiny toddlers hanging around his neck. He kisses you, takes his thumb and wipes that tiny bit of marinara sauce off your cheek. You look at his bandaid and give him a look. “Couldn’t help it” he says. 

-

After dinner, after the girls’ bath, after three different stories, after a small glass of wine each and a rewatch of something neither of you know the name of, you rest your head on his shoulders. 

“How are you feeling about it?” You ask. 

“What?” he asks. His eyes started to close a bit, he’s not fully sure he heard your question. 

“About the snip” you say, giggling a bit. 

He snorts, “you 10-years-old?” 

“I mean it, Carm! Be honest!” You say, you lightly slap his arm, settling right back into him after. 

“Jesus, woman.” He laughs “Uhm, I mean, good? Like this, like right here - uh, you and me, and my two cubs, my Ellie and my Charlie, my beautiful wife, this is it, you know? I just feel like our life right now is perfect. And you have done everything - so much for me. For the girls. So I’m good, I’m happy to do this. I wanna keep this, just this. This is perfect.” 

[mmelionsblog]

First time [Mike Schmidt x Reader]

“ and the first time that you kissed me,

I drank dry the river lethe”

Mike’s heart was beating rapidly. Today was the day. The day that he’d add more into the Schmidt family, a fellow member. He fixated on his fingers, his eyes going haywire as they looked towards your side of the church and as to his side. He gulped, as he looked at your mom, and your siblings. They were all talking to other family of yours, whispering, then glancing back and fourth at him.

Mike wasn’t close to anyone, so the groomsmen were mostly from your side of the family that he felt closest too. The best man, a cousin of yours, noticed that Mike was starting to have a panic attack.

“Are you okay, Mike?” He questioned into his ear. Mike nodded, half listening to him. “Y—yeah.. sorry I don’t do well with big crowds like this, and to be the center of attention.” The cousin chuckled, “well get used to it. Her family adores her, so everyone is gonna want to talk to the both of you tonight.” Mike nodded slowly. Then, everyone went silent.

The song you picked started to play, his lips turning into a smile. Can’t help falling in love, of course, started to play as soon as you got into view. There is already tears falling down the poor man’s cheeks. Your dad was seen next to you holding your forearm carefully, while your hand rested on top of your dad’s.

He could hear crying on the other side of him, your cousin was just as worse as he (and apparently your whole family too). The best man patted Mike’s back, toughening up when you got close up. Mike smiled widely, picking up your veil that covered the beauty of your face. You were stunning.

Mike stopped breathing as soon as his eyes locked in with yours. Your hand in his. This is really happening, he thought.

Mike simply couldn’t hold it in any longer. He broke down, in front of you, and in front of everyone that is witnessing the wedding. “Mike?” You whispered, placing your hand onto his cheek. “M sorry,” he sniffled with a small smile. “M just in my feels right now,” he shrugged off his emotions, coughing and then looking up to the priest that was standing in the middle. Then, the wedding continued.

As the priest went on and on and on rambling, Mike couldn’t help but remember the simple times where it was just him and you, and Abby.

The first time you kissed him, he couldn’t believe it. After all these years alone, he himself had thought he’d die alone. He’d rot alone. Abby, the only one in his life, taking care of him as he got older.

The first argument, he thought he’d lose you. He was the first one to say sorry to you. He was sure you didn’t want him after the way he yelled at you, scared of the actions of what Mike’s done. But you were already in his arms washing away the worried face Mike had.

The first time you both had sex, god Mike was in a complete mess afterwords. He had never felt so good in his life, you had completely changed him after Mike had put himself inside of you. To him, if he ever lost you, he doesn’t think he’d ever feel the same way with anyone else after you. So, he can’t lose you. Whatsoever. At all.

“Now you will repeat after me,” the priest says. The two of you were so lost in thought that both of you didn’t hear anything he had said. “Hello?” The priest sang jokingly. “Anyone home?” He snapped his fingers in front of both of your faces, then the two of you had been brought back into reality. Laughter filled the church and echoed could be heard. “I’m sorry, what?” Mike nervously spoke. “You two are really in love,” the priest laughed.

“Now both of you will repeat after me,” he looked at you two in the eyes this time. “I [Name] [Last name] take you, [NAME], to be my [wife/husband]. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. [Partner two repeats this vow.] Bless, O Lord, these rings which we bless in your name.” The priest spoke.

Mike inhaled, and exhaled. “I, Mike Schmidt, take you, [NAME], to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life. Bless, O lord, these rings which we bless in your name.” He finished. You copied after him.

The priest smiled widely. “And now will the ring bear come over?” He called out, a little boy around the age of five came out, handing over the rings to Mike. Mike placed the ring onto your ring finger, and you placed his onto his own. Your hands both holding each other afterwords.

“Mike Schmidt,” the priest spoke. “Do you take [NAME] [LAST NAME] to be your wedded wife, to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, and forsaking all others, be faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?”

Mike looked like the happiest man on earth in front of you. “I do.” Gasps and giggles could be heard in the church.

“[NAME] [LAST NAME], Do you take Mike Schmidt to be your wedded husband to live together in marriage? Do you promise to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health and forsaking all others, be faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?”

Your almost new husband looked at you with complete awe, and your heart skipped a beat. “I do.” You said. “And now, everyone’s favorite part!, I pronounce you husband and wife.” The priest spoke. “You may now—” Mike did not hesitate to place his lips on yours, his hands resting on your white dress near your hips. “Kiss the bride..” the priest said with a chuckle.

A/N: this is so corny and cheesy but idc bc I love Mike Schmidt

[its-time-to-write]

for anyone else who needs comfort in the form of a sick fic. but written specially for @coloursofyen🩵

there for you

Jamie’s alarm goes off at precisely 3:26am, which is what he says is the optimal time to wake up for training with Roy. He rolls over and feels for your warm body on the other side of the bed, frowning when he feels nothing but the cold covers next to him. You’ve been out of bed for a while, then.

He sits up, and as he wipes the sleep from his eyes he notices a light coming from the en suite. Jamie hops out of bed and taps on the door.

“Babe? You alright?” he asks.

He’s met by a retching sound so he pushes open the door to find you kneeling in front of the toilet. Sweat makes strands of hair stick to your face, and your face is unnaturally pale. You blink blearily at him as he sits against the doorframe.

“I think I have a stomach bug,” you croak.

Jamie’s unable to stop a grin. “What makes you think that?”

You’re too tired and nauseous to flip him off. You’ve been awake for more than an hour, thinking first it might be something you ate. 

Then you remembered one of your coworkers called out sick earlier in the week, followed by your supervisor two days later. Seems like it’s your turn now.

You manage to get out, “It’s going around the office,” before turning your face back to the bowl.

Jamie makes a sympathetic face and moves to rub your back.

“I’m gonna get you some water, babe. You want anything else? Crackers? Toast? I think we have shit for soup later today, if you think you can keep it down,” he says.

“Roy,” you say, sticking to easy words.

Jamie gently pats your back. “Nah, don’t worry about him. He’ll be glad to have the morning off.”

“You have a match on Sunday,” you remind him. “You can’t catch this.”

Jamie disregards this and presses a kiss to the side of your head. “The lads’ll be fine without me. Give some second-teamer a chance to be on the pitch. Besides, it’s against Bournemouth.”

You make a face. Bournemouth is at the bottom of the league, and at the moment a match against them is essentially free points.

“It feels awful,” you rasp.

Jamie readjusts his position on the floor. “Babe, I’m a fucking… specimen. I’m like, so fucking healthy that viruses bounce right off me. I’m not gonna catch it.”

You shake your head and retch again. That’s what you had thought.

“Let me text Coach,” Jamie says. “I’ll sit here as longs as you need, or I can grab a bowl so you can go back to bed. Actually, let’s go to the guest room while I change the sheets in here, yeah? All hygienic, like. I can make mum’s special soup, think we’ve got everything for it. Can order it if not. Just don’t worry about it, alright? Your body’s a temple, or whatever fucking Lasso says.”

You crack a half-smile at that. For as much as Jamie loves football, he loves you more. Only slightly more, but you’ll take it. 

He says, “Come on, up you get,” and half-lifts you to a standing position. Once you’re settled in the guest bed with the tv on and a lime soda, he heads downstairs to figure out what you might be able to eat. He ends up bringing you toast, a banana, and a sleeve of crackers, then getting into bed next to you.

“Sheets are in the wash,” he says. 

“Don’t get too close to me,” you warn. “You’re going to catch this fucking bug.”

“Won’t,” he responds smugly.

“Will,” you argue.

“Won’t,” he repeats with such confidence that you wish Roy were still coming over to smack him down a little bit.

Will, you silently mouth.

—

That fucker doesn’t even get so much as a sneeze.

[jessejaredstories]

One Last Adventure

“Did you find anyone yet?”

“Not yet babe, I’m still looking.”

I flipped through the pages of my old high school yearbook while my boyfriend Jack was pacing around our bedroom. He was supposed to be searching through Grindr and Tinder for potential targets, but I knew he was getting frustrated and decided not to push it. My boyfriend has always been the impatient type, but I could understand why he was getting extra antsy tonight. 

About a month ago, my boyfriend and I made a deal with a witch. In exchange for five years off of each of our lifespans, the witch would grant us the supernatural ability to take over other people’s bodies. As you can imagine, Jack and I have been generously using our new powers ever since we got them. We’ve been using them to do whatever we want as whoever we want! Getting easy access to anything we want, getting payback on anyone who’s wronged us, and probably the most fun, fucking as whoever we want. Pretty sweet ability right? 

But of course, an extraordinary power like this doesn’t come without its cost. On top of paying the witch with literal years off of our lives, there were also two conditions we needed to follow. The first condition was the time limit. We got exactly 30 days before our powers expire. Once time’s up, that’s it. No more body hopping fun. The second condition was more of a restriction than anything else. The witch said that we couldn’t just take over anyone’s body. We could only choose people both Jack and I have met in-person before. That condition really limited our options, but even so, that didn’t stop us from having as much fun as possible. 

“Hey, what about these two?” I handed Jack the yearbook with an open page. Unfortunately though, it took him less than a second to shake his head no.

“No good. I knew them but I never actually met them.”

I sighed as I took back the yearbook. Not gonna lie, I was starting to get frustrated too. We just couldn’t find any new bodies to possess! Normally, we wouldn’t get so worked over it, but tonight was different. It was our last day before our powers expired for good. Obviously we couldn’t just let our powers die out without one last body hopping escapade! But after hours of searching, it was not looking good for us…

Or so I thought. I started half-assedly looking through all the faces of our former high school classmates. It was then that two faces stuck out to me. Akshay Khan and Kabir Patel. 

“How about these two? Remember them? The Indian bros?” I asked Jack.

“Oh yeah, I remember them. Can’t say I remember much though,”

“Neither can I.”

Akshay and Kabir were known for being inseparable best friends, but that was it really. They never got involved in any school activities. That’s why they each only had one photo in the yearbook. Easy to miss, but they were still an option nonetheless. 

“C’mon, let’s check out what they’ve been up to,” I said as I pulled out my phone. 

Jack joined me on the couch. He laid against me as I typed in Akshay’s name. Luckily that was all I needed to get a hit on Instagram. His profile came up and surely enough, it was him. He had recently posted on his story too. I clicked on it and up came a picture of him and Kabir working out at some gym together.

“Whoa, they’ve really glowed up since high school. The gym’s been kind to them!” Jack let out a fox whistle when he saw the picture. I turned my head slightly to watch him checking out the goods. I could tell by the hungry look in his eyes that we just found our next targets.

“What do you say bro?” I said while lowering my voice. “You down to hit the showers after we hit this last set?” I caught Jack off guard with my bad Akshay impression, but he caught on right away. We exchanged a knowing look, then proceeded to get ready for the takeover. 

We both laid down on the ground and took deep breaths. We had body possession down to a science with how many times we’ve done it. All that was left to do was to go through steps again. I cleared my mind of all thoughts then I focused on imagining my soul leaving my body, all while maintaining my breathing. Soon enough, I could feel myself becoming lighter as my soul left my physical body. Once I was no longer a slave to the laws of physics, I flew straight to the gym where Akshay and Kabir were. They made the big mistake of tagging their location on social media, which made Jack and I’s job a whole lot easier! 

Thanks to my spirit form, I made it to their location within minutes. I phased through the walls and looked around for the bros. The gym was pretty empty that night for some reason. After some searching, I found Akshay in the locker room area checking himself out in the mirror. He was by himself in there. I crept up behind him, ready to strike while he was distracted! 

“Nrghh… What the fuck?” Akshay exclaimed. He hunched over while holding his stomach. I hesitated jumping into him, then abandoned the idea altogether when I realized what was happening. Jack had beaten me to the punch, he had already begun possessing Akshay.

I decided to stay back a moment and watch as my boyfriend possessed the gym rat. Akshay was groaning loudly. He tried keeping his balance but ended up falling to the ground on all fours. Sweat beads were forming on his face as he began breathing heavily. He then swung his head back with his mouth wide open. I could see his eyes roll back to the back of his head until I only saw the veiny whites of his eyeballs. Akshay then let out a loud, eerie groan. His cheeks and chest puffed up as Jack's soul slithered down his throat. I could see Akshay's Adam's apple bob up and down too! This lasted for a few seconds, then Akshay swallowed the last of Jack's essence in one final gulp. Once it was done, Akshay's eyes went back to normal and he stood up with a cocky grin on his face. 

"Ahh yeahhh... That's the good stuff..." Akshay said while caressing his massive pecs and rock hard abs. Except I knew that wasn't Akshay anymore, that was my loving boyfriend checking out his new body in the mirror. 

I watched as my boyfriend admired his newly obtained muscles in front of the mirror. I couldn't help but smile as Jack flexed his cannons for arms and made his pecs pop. To be honest, I was slightly jealous of him. Akshay was jacked! I wanted to have that body for myself, but no matter, there was still another body up for grabs anyway. 

I turned around and began searching for Kabir. I looked throughout the gym and eventually found him near the dumbbells. Kabir was busy putting some weights back on the rack. He wasn't perfectly alone like Akshay was, but the sight of his plump butt sticking out as he was bent over was too tempting to ignore. I just had to take the risk and dive right in! 

I steadied my aim first and then charged in as fast as I could. Thanks to my spirit form, I was able to phase right through his gym shorts and go straight into his asshole. 

"Ow!! What the fuck!?" Kabir yelped out, presumably from me penetrating him by surprise. The impact of me entering him made Kabir fall onto the ground on his stomach. He grabbed onto his ass cheeks while squirming around on the ground. Unfortunately I wasn't able to possess him in one smooth motion, but it didn't matter. I was already halfway in, and there was nothing Kabir could do to stop a pro like me.

I started wiggling my way up his ass. The deeper I went inside him, the more I could feel through his body as the body takeover process started. 

"Aaargh fuckk!! Ahh!!" 

Kabir was moaning and thrashing around like a madman! I couldn't blame him though, I could feel the stimulation I was giving him by entering through his ass. I bet I was hitting all the right pleasure spots as I slithered up him! 

"Mmmm... yeahh that's the spot..." I purred using Kabir's voice. I was in full control now, and hearing his accent come out of my mouth was making me hard! I stood up and brushed off any dirt on me. I took a moment to admire my newly possessed body. Jack might have gotten the more muscular body, but Kabir was taller and with a well-toned physique too. He was hot— No, I was hot! 

“Hey bro, you good?” 

I felt a hand pat me on the shoulder. Shit! Someone must’ve spotted Kabir thrashing around on the floor! I slowly turned around, but thankfully my worries were for nothing. It was just Jack.

“Yeah man, I’m chilling, all good here,” I answered. Jack shook his head. 

“You sure, Kabir? Looked like you had a pretty ass cramp just now… You don’t need a massage to help ease the pain?”

Getting called “Kabir” threw me off for a moment. Although I quickly caught on when I saw “Akshay” wink at me.

“Actually, you’re right, I could use a massage right now! Think you can lend me a hand bro?” I replied with a smirk. Akshay returned my gesture with a grin. It was moments like this that made me love taking over other people’s bodies with my boyfriend. Nobody but us knew that these two gym rats just got possessed by two other men, and that secret just made it even more fun.

Akshay and I wasted no time in getting to the locker rooms. Luckily for us, there was still nobody back there. We took off our clothes and hopped into one of the shower stalls together. Akshay turned on the water, and then proceeded to pin me to the wall behind me. He planted a big fat kiss on my lips. It was aggressive, but I loved it! 

We made out in the stall with our tongues fighting for dominance while the running water helped cover up our loud kisses and moans. Naturally, our dicks got hard while we kissed. I could feel Akshay’s dick rub against me as we pressed and interlocked our wet bodies against one another. It was strange. Normally when we possess straight men, we could feel their dormant souls try to resist against us having fun with their bodies. I expected Kabir and Akshay to do the same, but they never did! It was almost as if their bodies were enthusiastic about us having our fun. Perhaps, they’ve already done what we were doing?

Whatever. It doesn’t matter. All that mattered was that Akshay had a hand around my neck, choking me while keeping me pressed against the shower wall. I opened my mouth and Akshay spit in my mouth. I swallowed it like a good boy, then I jumped onto Akshay. He held me up while we resumed kissing. Then, while our lips were locked together, he began to lower me down onto his cock. I could feel his dick tap against my hole, then it slid right in.

“OHH FUCKK!!!” I couldn’t hold back my moans. The pleasure of having Akshay’s whole length inside me… My hole expanding to accommodate his girth was too much to hold back!

“You like that? You want this big, brown cock inside you?”

“Fuck yeah! Fuck me!!” 

“Beg for it then.” He started teasing me by thrusting himself into me slowly. 

“Please bro! Please fuck me hard!! I want you… I need you… Arghh!!”

Akshay started picking up the pace of his thrusts. I thought I saw stars with every deep stroke he gave me. We were probably making a lot of noise between my moans and his grunts, but we didn’t care. We fucked like animals with our new jock bodies and we weren’t ashamed of it! 

It only took us another few minutes of fucking before we were both close. Akshay pulled out and let me down to the ground. We then started tugging our dicks together until we covered both ourselves and the shower stall with our cum. We were both panting as we shot load after load of our sweet spunk out. We then made out again one last time while we were still covered with each other’s cum before the shower washed it away. It was hot, and it was definitely the last body hopping adventure we needed before our powers expired for good. 

Once we finished having our fun, Jack and I were ready to leave. We never bothered cleaning up, we just depossessed the bodies and let them take care of it. Jack and I shared one last loving look as Akshay and Kabir before leaving. However, when we tried forcing our souls out of their bodies, we couldn’t! No matter how hard or how much we tried, we just couldn’t leave! We ended up having to clean up after ourselves for once. We did that quickly, then got dressed and left the gym as fast as we could. We had no idea what was going on! But then I caught a glimpse of the time. It was already 1:30AM! It was already the next day! It was supposed to be a quickie, but I guess Jack and I got a little carried away…

All this happened two years ago. We’ve been living as Akshay and Kabir ever since then. Even to this day, neither of us know what could’ve happened that we’d end up trapped in these bodies. If I had to take a guess, I’d wager that when the witch said that our powers would expire permanently, she meant it way more seriously than Jack and I expected. Without those powers, we couldn’t even return to our original bodies! I don’t know, but honestly, I don’t care anymore. If anything, we’ve been blessed to have Akshay and Kabir’s lives as our own. Sure, Akshay’s new family is super traditional and they’re already setting him up for a bride, but that doesn’t matter to us. We still meet up in secret when nobody’s around. No matter who we are, we are lovers and nothing will ever take that away from us. 

We’re not sure how exactly we’re gonna get past an arranged family, but as long as Akshay is by my side, we can overcome anything.

[frudoo]

OK SO THIS MIGHT BE RLLY DUMB but I’m gonna share it anyway

So like, imagine reader maybe introducing Bo to some band they like (im listening to Ghost rn so I’m picturing them but honestly it can be anything) and Bo gets super into that band. And reader lets him borrow a cd, “as long as he doesn’t break it” (said in kinda a jokey way)

And Bo breaks it on accident

And when he has to tell reader he (who has probably been severely punished as a child for breaking or losing his things, let alone a borrowed thing) is expecting screaming, maybe even hitting. He’s full on bracing himself for the absolute worst

And readers just like “oh that’s unfortunate:( but it’s alright, just replace it and be more careful next time:)” and just moves on with the conversation

And Bo’s like ????? Why aren’t you screaming at me????

And readers like ????? Why would I scream at you?????

Idk maybe this is dumb I’m sorry if it is

It’s not dumb at all, sugar!! Super sweet!

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse (Bo). GN reader!

Bo remembers the conversation clearly.

     “Who’d ya say this is?” He’d asked, nodding his head along to the third song of the CD you’d popped into the player of his truck. 

     “Ghost,” you’d replied with a grin, pleased that he was enjoying it.

     “Not bad,” He shrugged. “Can I, uh… can I keep it in here for now? Just ‘til ya need it back?”

     “Yeah, of course! Long as you don’t break it,” you’d said, nudging his arm gently.

     Well, shit.

     He broke it.

     He’d taken it out of the CD player to examine the disc, and when he tried to push it back in, it snapped in half. Bo thinks his heart did, too. Now here you are in his living room, yapping away about your day, living in ignorant bliss. Bliss he’s about to trample on. 

     “I broke your CD,” he blurts out, sweat pouring down his face despite every fan in the house being on. “M’sorry, didn’t mean to.”

     “Aw, that’s a shame. Just get a new one, I don’t mind. Was gonna let you have it anyway,” you frown sympathetically before perking back up to continue your story. “So anyway, this girl would not follow… me… What?”

     Bo’s staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, arms crossed over his body like he’s expecting you to hit him. God knows Trudy would have beaten him with her hand or fist or the largest switch she could manage. 

     “You’re… not gonna yell at me?” He questions in the softest tone you’ve heard since the first time you met him.

     “Why the hell would I yell at you over a CD? It’s really not a big deal,” you reach out to pat his hand with a confused laugh, frowning at the way he flinches. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

     “M’sorry,” He mutters, burying his face in his shaking hands.

     You move to sit beside him on the couch, carefully prying his hands away from his head so you can look at him. The despair reflecting back at you breaks your heart, and you immediately wrap your arms around his waist as he burrows into your neck. It’s a sight, watching big, bad Bo Sinclair cry, one you never wish to experience again. 

     “It’s just a CD, Bo. I’m not mad at you,” you reassure him when he finally collects himself, cupping one red cheek in your palm and running your thumb along it soothingly.

     Bo kisses your palm softly before gently pushing it away to give you a small smile. He’s calmer, now, like the terrified little creature tucked away in the deepest parts of his brain was offered some kind of reprieve, some kind of love. It’s foreign to him but it’s now something he craves, something he realizes he’s missed all his life.

     And he wants it all from you.

[hawkinsmethlab]

Part Two

Read on AO3

The first time they kiss, Eddie is technically dead. Or, does CPR even count? Steve’s tempted to say no, because that’s not how kissing works. (He would know the best out of any of them, right?) The cracking of ribs under his hands and the taste of blood in his mouth, how desperately he’s blowing air into too-heavy lungs and listening to one of his best friends cry so hard he’s dry heaving.

But he doesn’t stop, not until there’s a pulse, however weak.

Eddie dies twice on the way to the hospital. They tell Steve later that he died again when he was on the operating table and nearly didn’t get him back.

Steve runs himself ragged over the next month, between volunteering at the community center, donating blood and making sandwiches, helping to clear the streets of debris, patrolling for Upside Down shenanigans and playing chauffeur for his gang of kids who aren’t acting so much like kids these days. He visits Max and Eddie as often as he can. Max still hasn’t woken up and nobody’s sure when that might be, but he gets to have his first conversation with Eddie about a month later.

He’s only been awake for a week, and still can’t do much of anything but talk, and even that’s hit or miss most days. Even when he can kind of hold a conversation, he gets tired too fast for it to mean much, but everyone Steve talks to is upbeat about his recovery.

He hadn’t been planning on actually sitting with him, there’s still so much to do, but Wayne had asked him to hang out while he ran to grab himself some lunch. Who is he to deny that man anything, especially something so easy as watching a half-comatose idiot?

Eddie wakes up after about a minute of Steve being there. When he notices him, Eddie’s eyes go glazed and he’s got a dopey smile.

“They’ve got you on the good stuff, huh?” Steve says.

Eddie nods, but his muscles are loose so it’s more of a roll. “Oh, yeah. I’d make a fortune off the stuff if I could get my hands on it. But, shh, don’t tell. I’ll get in trouble.”

“Okay, man, whatever you say. My lips are sealed or whatever.”

“Mmm.” Eddie squints at him then, frowns until he’s pouting. “Sorry you had to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Lay one on me,” he says, eyes closed now. “Bet you hated it. Bet it tasted awful.”

Steve rolls his eyes, fights back the smile his lips are trying to pull up into. “Appreciate the concern. Lucky for you, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t tasted before. And I didn’t. Hate it.”

Eddie’s eyes open so fast Steve worries they’re gonna fly out of his skull. “You what?”

“I was saving your life, dude,” Steve says. Duh. “Hard to hate something like that. I mean, maybe if it hadn’t worked then it might be a different story but--”

“Oh. Right.” Eddie relaxes back into his pillow. He’s trying to keep his eyes open, on Steve, but it’s a fight he isn’t going to win. He’s like a kid trying to stay up past his bedtime, and this time Steve can’t force down the smile in time.

“Just go to sleep,” he tells him. “Your uncle will be back soon.”

“Been sleepin’ forever, I’m sick of it. Keep havin’ weird dreams.”

“...Yeah, I’ve been there.”

Silence settles between them, broken by beeps of machinery, distant footsteps and announcements from the hallway. Eddie’s eyes are closed again, his brow still creased. Steve thinks he might have actually fallen back asleep until he sees his lips move.

Steve scoots a little closer. “Are you trying to say something?”

Eddie sniffs, make the face like he’s pouting again. “I said, I’mma make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?”

“Bad first kiss.” Eddie shakes his head. “I can do better. Wanna do-over.”

Steve freezes like a deer in headlights. Like he has a gun to his head. Like he just heard the front door open and he knows it’s his parents coming home. He knows it’s the drugs talking and that Eddie doesn’t know what he’s saying, not really. At the end of the day he probably isn’t going to remember this conversation.

Eddie is in a hospital bed, hooked up to about a dozen different machines looking like he’s been hit by a train, his skin so pale that Steve can make out every vein, every bruise and cut and stitch. Long fingernails and peeling scabs that crawl up his neck like a fungus. He’s drooling a bit from the side of his mouth and his eyes are still crusty with sleep and he’s got a smattering of acne that’s cropped up on his forehead and nose, along the edge of his chin. His bangs are pinned back because they’re so greasy.

Steve’s heart races anyway.

There’s a correct answer here, the one he’s been raised with, the one beaten into him. The instinctual urge to brush it off as a joke (ha, good one, man) to take it as an insult (remember who you’re talking to, Munson) to ignore it altogether (just go back to sleep).

Then there’s the incorrect answer.

“Alright, Munson,” he says, softly, terrified. “Once you’re all better, you can show me what I missed out on.”

Through the exhaustion and the pain meds, Eddie grins. “Watch out, Harrington. I’m about to rock your world.”

Steve smiles. He doesn’t fight it this time. “Can’t wait.”

[wonwoonlight]

chocolate rum cookies | jeon wonwoo

➝ Wonwoo x Reader

➝ nonidol!au // friends with benefits to ?? // fluff // ...slice of life? // angst if u squint

➝ word count: 3.5k~

➝warning: no smut scenes but there are mentions of sex and implications of it so minor dni!! mentions of alcohol, food, curses. very self indulgent bc i write this for my birthday hehe. this wonwoo made an appearance <3

➝A/N: hi. so this wasn't exactly... planned. i was just randomly sitting down with my google doc open and suddenly i finished writing... this in one day. gotta say that, when you do write for yourself, it is much easier to write and it's been quite some time since i'm actually happy with what i put out. but also just to put it out there, this fic is actually finished somewhere before february ended but i decided to post it for my birthday because i did start writing it with the thoughts 'i miss wonwoo' and 'i kinda wanna post smth on my bday' so. enjoy. i'm happy to say i'm content with how this one turns to be. here's to turning 25 lol

[✾✾✾]

You hear the door open, signalling Wonwoo’s arrival, and when you feel his presence nearby, you don’t even look up from your phone when you say, “No.”

Wonwoo smiles in amusement, irking an eyebrow as he settles next to you. “I haven’t said anything though?”

“You’re gonna ask me out again.” You roll your eyes, already used to his antics. You don’t even pretend to care about his mock heartache anymore when he clutches his chest.

You’re not sure what Jeon Wonwoo has in his mind, but he’s been asking you out on dates everytime he sees you since last month. Problem is, you see him a lot. A little hard not to with the friends with benefits situation that has been going on between you and him for the last six months.

Even right now, you’re in his place. You’ve been here since almost half an hour ago, entertaining yourself as you wait for Wonwoo to get home because he’s out when you called, and when he said you’re allowed to use the access he’s given you some time ago, you decided to barge into his place like it’s your own.

You’re practically here more often than in your own dorm, anyway.

It almost feels like a second home to you.

But you don’t want to think too much about it. Not about the fact that you have access to Wonwoo’s place. Not about the fact that you’re basically exclusive. Not about the fact that you talk to him practically everyday.

Nope.

“You don’t even pretend to consider it anymore.” He sighs, and you hate that you can’t tell if he’s joking or not. You’ve been telling him to cut it out, but it surely doesn’t look like he has any plans of listening to you. “Here, I got this for you.”

Now that catches your attention, and you actually jump a little on the sofa before you take the small package, take Wonwoo’s face in your arms, and kiss him square in the lips as a thank you.

“You won’t go on a date with me but will kiss me over some cookies. Nice,” he grumbles, though the grin blooming into his face when you pull away betrays him.

Clutching the cookie into your chest like it’s the most precious thing in the world, you regard him with stars in your eyes. “Where did you even find this? I’ve been looking for this forever and I couldn’t find it! I don’t even know the name of the shop that sells this?”

“I’m just capable like that.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, telling you he was out with a friend and the packaging looked familiar so he got it just in case. You’ve been telling him about that craving of yours, a chocolate rum cookie that some random classmate offered some time ago–one that is so good but you don’t know the brand, only remember the flavour and the packaging.

And you can’t even ask that classmate again because she was an exchange student that you’ve only spoken for a total of two times in your life, and she has returned to her country.

You don't even know her name.

“You have to tell me where you got this.” The packaging just has to be so empty; a very simple but elegant design that doesn’t state the shop’s name whatsoever.

“Mmm. Perhaps if you say yes I’ll bring you there.”

“No.”

“Hard pass then.” He chuckles and messes your hair. “Eat. I’ll buy you some more if you’re a good girl.”

The innuendo is not purposeful on his part, and it’s two seconds later that he realizes what he’s just said and he cringes so hard that you laugh, because as much as it’s physical between the two of you, Wonwoo absolutely abhors that particular… moniker. It’s always been an on-going joke between you two, and you laugh some more when his frown deepens, launching yourself into his lap and peppering kisses on his jaw.

“You want me to be one?”

“Shut up.” He grunts, though his arms wrap around your waist anyway and he bends his neck to give you more access.

“I can be if you want to, you know?” You whisper against his ear, not missing the way his hold tightens around you. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that the only thing separating you and him is the clothes you’re wearing.

“Shut up.” He repeats and kisses you some more. When it gets almost hard to breath, he doesn’t forget to get the cookie out of your grasp and carefully places it on the coffee table before hauling you up and carrying you into his room, your squeal and laughter echoes throughout his empty apartment.

You don’t get to eat your chocolate rum cookie until later that evening, already showered and dressed in Wonwoo’s oversized hoodie as you cuddle into his chest with a movie playing in front of you.

[✾✾✾]

You don’t know what’s taking Wonwoo so long, but he’s already fifteen minutes late without any text messages so you decide you’ll just get some drink first and let loose. He’s probably going to be pissed because he’s never liked it when you go to a bar by yourself (something about men looking at what’s his, whatever that means) but whatever, it’s his fault for being late and you’re currently not relaxed enough to wait for him by yourself in a place full of people. 

The whiskey burns your throat in a pleasant way, though now that you think about it, you shouldn’t have drunk everything in one go when you still have moments to spare as you wait for Wonwoo. But, then again, you can always just order more.

You’ve never been to this bar before, but after hearing how good the vibe is from a friend, you decided to go to check it out. Clubs have never really been your style–people are way too drunk and the music is too loud.

Your friend is absolutely correct when she said you would fit right with this particular bar; there are just enough people for it to be crowded but not really crowded that you get dizzy. Plus, the music is up to your taste and you find yourself nodding to whatever’s playing in the background as you scan through the sea of people while you lean on the wooden bar.

You were just about to order again when someone joins you by the bar, a tall, handsome man that doesn’t look sleazy at first glance. And he’s offering to buy you a drink. You subtly try to check him out; this guy is definitely taller and bigger than Wonwoo, though he doesn’t look harmful and he doesn’t look like he’s hunting for prey. His smile when he offers to pay for your drink looks… honest, if anything. The guy doesn’t even look flirty. Perhaps he thinks you’re interesting and are in need of some company.

The side of your lips lift in an amused smile, Wonwoo will be pissed as fuck if he finds out, but do you care? No you don’t. You’re not going to turn down free drinks from a handsome stranger that doesn’t look dangerous.

“So how come you’re by yourself?” He bends to your height, not too close that it makes you uncomfortable, and just enough for you to hear him over the music. “I’m Mingyu, by the way.”

Hmm. Handsome and with manners.

“Why do you want to know?” You answer with a teasing smile, sipping on your cocktail. Mingyu laughs when you say you’re not telling him his name, if only because he hasn’t earned it yet, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he says it’s understandable and he’s glad you know how to play your cards. “What about you, why are you by yourself?”

“Eh. I just feel like drinking tonight and you seem to be someone who doesn’t mind talking to strangers.”

“Ouch. Is that how I look like? Easy?” You pretend to be offended, and it’s almost cute how Mingyu laughs yet again and rephrases his words. If this was you six months ago, you’d definitely flirt with him and eat up everything that comes out of his mouth, perhaps you’d even end up going back with him. The guy is handsome and you can actually hold conversations with him, which is already a very big difference compared to a lot of guys that have tried talking you up in places like this.

But alas. Your eyes twinkle as you catch the figure of the man who’s the exact reason why you’re not flirting with Mingyu making his way towards you, why you don’t feel the excitement that used to rush through your blood at times like this, and why ‘handsome’ is the only thing you think of Mingyu even though he seems much more than that.

You don’t care enough to think about Mingyu in different aspects.

The way Wonwoo immediately grabs your waist is almost funny, and you have to actually bite your lip and clutch the cocktail glass between your fingers to stop yourself from grinning. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Your boyfriend?” Mingyu asks goodnaturedly–almost concerned, even–making sure he’s not some random guy who’s grabbing you without consent. 

“Yes.” Wonwoo almost growls, and you have to plant your palm on his chest to calm him down, telling him Mingyu is harmless even though your ears are heating up from his word. You’d need to get back to that boyfriend thing later.

Mingyu sends you a look, and you’re absolutely, thoroughly would’ve swooned if you’re… uh… single (you are) and you’re not seeing… anyone (huh?). But you send him a smile, an actual smile this time, and you nod before you tell him it’s nice meeting him.

Wonwoo refuses to look at the interaction, but you can tell that he’s more relaxed than he was seconds ago and his grip on your waist is now replaced with his thumb caressing you through the material of your dress.

Would it hurt to push his button one more time?

“Hey.” You call to Mingyu once again when he’s about to leave, making both guys turn to you in confusion–Wonwoo more so in betrayal–and when you tell him you’d love to see him again someday and finally tell him your name with a wink, Mingyu gets exactly what you’re playing at. Another laugh bubbles out of his throat and he returns the gesture with a ‘have fun!’ before making his way out of your sight.

“What the fuck was that?”

It’s not often that Wonwoo curses, and you know you’ve pushed just enough of his buttons for him to react this way. If anything, though, adoration fills your chest and you have to physically hold yourself back from squeezing his cheeks.

“What? You were late and he accompanied me. Nice guy, right?” You try to play innocent, placing your glass on the bar and turning in his arm to face him. He looks especially nice today, with his hair styled a little and a denim jacket that you haven’t seen him worn before. You can feel your heartbeat picking up the longer you stare at him, and you don’t register what’s coming out of his mouth because you’re lost in your head.

Your eyes fall to his lips, and it’s when he clicks his tongue that you finally look back at him, eyes meeting his in mock innocence.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

You shake your head to confirm his suspicion. The guy can't even get mad at you even if he wants to.

“So.” Wonwoo raises his eyebrow in question, urging you to continue. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to say something, but you don’t give him room to talk more because you already dive into his lips, your palms on his shoulders and his arms wrap around you once again–probably muscle memory at this point. There’s no rush in this kiss though, you really just feel like kissing him and you do exactly that. Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind either, because his lips chase yours when you’re about to pull away.

“Won I–”

“Hmm?”

“I need to–”

“Mmm.”

“Need to–”

“To what?” He finally pulls away, annoyed that you keep on trying to pull away. Even in the dim lighting of the bar, you can tell that he’s a little flushed too and there’s something about it that makes your heartbeat speed up once again. Were you two just… kissing in a public space for no reason at all?

“Need to breathe, baby.” You finish your sentence, suddenly shy now that you’re looking at each other. You dive into his neck before he catches your embarrassment though, and he simply chuckles before he takes a sip of your drink, whatever annoyance in his chest from looking at you and Mingyu, whoever that guy is, disappears just like that.

God, it’s not funny how whipped he is for you.

“What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing.”

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Not a chance.” You beam, though you reject him with a kiss on his cheek and you tell him to finish your drink because you don’t feel like being here anymore. You won’t let him ponder too long on your rejection though, your fingers caressing his neck and your lips finding his ear. “Actually, let’s go back to your place. I don’t have anything to do tomorrow.”

Wonwoo shudders a little at that, still not used to the way you’d get vocal about what you want when you’re tipsy. That’s your code of saying you want to have rough sex all night–or however he would have you, really.

So Wonwoo finishes your drink in one go and grabs your hand to pull you out of the bar, missing the way you exchange grins with Mingyu as you accidentally catch his eyes before you exit the place.

[✾✾✾]

“You know you’ll spend less money if you just tell me where to buy these cookies?” You pout, still trying to get it out of him.

He doesn’t relent though, simply shrugs and places your hot chocolate on the table. “I don’t mind buying you things.”

“But whyyyy.” You whine, crossing your legs to face him on the sofa.

“I told you I’d bring you there if you go on a date with me.”

You stare at him, mind wandering to how easy it is for him to say this over and over again. You still don’t know why he’s suddenly so adamant about that, and while you actually do feel butterflies in your whole body everytime he does it, sometimes you wonder if he’s just messing with you.

Does he really mean it?

But if he does, wouldn’t he eventually be done with you because you keep on rejecting him?

But if you say yes and he’s actually just joking–what does that make you?

What if you try it out and it… messes things up?

You’re happy with whatever you have with him now, and you trust each other enough to know you are exclusive. Is there really any need to put a label between you two?

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, snapping you out of your daze.

“Huh. Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

You see the way Wonwoo presses his lips together and you can tell the gears are turning in his head. But he beats you to it before you can ask, and your heart breaks a little at how soft he sounds.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“What? No!” You sit straight, taken aback from the sudden turn of the conversation. “What makes you say that?”

Wonwoo sighs and repeats his words. But he faces you this time and, for the first time since he asked you the question he’s been asking you the past few months, it’s obvious how unsure he is, as if he’s suddenly questioning himself on what he’s been doing.

“Am I making you uncomfortable by asking you out on a date?”

“Oh… Wonwoo…” You take his hand, your desire to comfort him bigger than anything. You don’t like seeing him like this, and as much as your own thoughts have been haunting you, you suppose you do need to talk about it one way or another. “No, you’re not. But… Can I ask you something?”

He doesn’t answer, but you take the way he squeezes your hand as a ‘yes’.

“Why?”

He doesn’t seem to get your question, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “What do you mean why?”

“Why do you suddenly want to date me?”

It’s almost comical the way he blinks slowly, then repeatedly, like he doesn’t get why you’d ask that. He thinks carefully before he says his next words though, and he mentally winces at what he’s about to say but there’s really no other way to say it.

“We’ve been… sleeping together for, like, six months.” He starts, and his face contorts like the words personally offend him. But the more you listen to him talk about all the things you’ve been doing the past few months, how you’re basically a couple without the title, the more you feel both warm and afraid about however this talk is going to end.

You don’t realize you’ve been holding his hand tighter, but he doesn’t say anything and you realize how protective you actually feel of Wonwoo because it doesn’t sit well with you that he seems to consider himself so small.

“It’s not… sudden. I’ve just finally gathered enough courage to ask you.”

“I’m afraid.” You throw it out there the moment you open your mouth, not sure how to tell him except to just go straight to the point.

“Of what?”

“Falling in love.” You cast your eyes down to where your hand and his are joined. “Of being attached to you.”

For a moment, the air around you seems to tense ten-fold that you’re sure you can cut through it with a knife. But when Wonwoo doesn’t say anything, you brace yourself for more honesty and continue.

“I’m… already attached to you more than I thought I could be with anyone. And it scares me sometimes. What if you leave me? I think I’d be able to cope better if you decide to end things with our current… relationship than an actual one. It scares me.”

You feel his hand letting go of yours, and you panic that he’s finally had enough, but he cups your face in his palms to calm you down, and as much as you’re anxious, you can feel yourself calming under his gaze.

“If you want me to be honest, I think I already like you more than whatever you probably feel for me.” He smiles so softly you almost cry. And when you’re about to refute his words, he gently places his finger on your lips to keep you silent. “And no, that’s not something I want to debate with you. I’m fine with liking you more. I want to like you more than you like me. Will you let me do that?”

You open your mouth to say something–anything, but nothing comes out except for your tears so you simply nod and fall into his embrace. Your tears dry up almost immediately after that, but you sniffle a little as his words echo in your mind. Wonwoo probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about, because you’ve liked him for as long as you can remember. Probably not long after you started your deal with him.

He doesn’t know how you melt every time he takes care of you. How you’d try to stay awake longer after he falls asleep after another night of passionate sex, his arm over your body and your back against his chest, just so you can pretend it’s real between you two. How you’d remind yourself that it’s not real when you wake up in his place even though you’d still drag yourself out to make breakfast for him, willing your heart to calm down when he wakes up moments later, hugging you from behind even though you tell him to move away.

You probably already love him more than he can imagine.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You ask once you’ve calmed down, getting out of his embrace to look into his eyes.

“Nothing. Why?” He tilts his head, a little confused at the sudden change of topic.

“Let’s go on a date?” You ask shyly, though your eyes immediately cast downwards again once you realized you can’t handle looking him in the eye as you ask him this. But that’s why you missed the way his face blooms into a grin, missed the way his eyes suddenly twinkle brighter than every single star in the universe combined. “I think you promised to tell me where you buy those cookies if I go on a date with you.”

He laughs at that and throws his arms around you, so tight that it hurts a little. But you don’t say anything, happy that you’re here in his arms and a little giddy now that everything’s out of your chest.

Wonwoo pulls away and cups your face once again, then searches for something in your face before he closes his eyes and gives you the softest kiss you’ve ever experienced in your life. A promise. One that says he’s not going to leave and he’s going to try his best to remove every single doubt you have in your mind.

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved. I don't allow any translations or reposting of my works.

A/N 2: and for my birthday wish, hopefully i'll get to see you even once in this lifetime.