#and the chords are pretty much decided

[shmaptainwrites]

i think i just wrote a song?

[midnightarcheress]

cowgirl

a little bar challenge characters: simon 'ghost' riley, john 'soap' mactavish, kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price cw: nsfw, fem!reader, tf141 lusting for their teammate, idk there's nothing much

"i'm not going on that!" you exclaimed, crossing your arms at the man in front of you.

the buzzing of a bar after a successful mission was a familiar sound for the task force. the glasses clinking, the chatter of old and new friends, the horrible background music, and the abhorrent pick-up lines would, weirdly enough, calm your nerves after days covered in heavy gear and harboring pent-up stress. or maybe the source of your mind's serenity was just the alcohol already flowing on your bloodstream, courtesy of the three tequila shots you were - willingly - forced into drinking.

"come on, bonnie, it will be fun!" Soap said, pointing at the sign propped above the mechanical bull, "besides, ye can win the hat for us."

you scoffed, glancing at the direction the scot referred, right after seeing another contender fall to the bouncy mat under the bull, followed by a string of boo's from the watchful horde. bold red lettering stated 'break the bar's record and win a cowboy hat!', tempting drunk custumers into fooling themselves for a measly prize.

"i bet she's scared," Gaz prompted, adding fuel to Johnny's pleas, "don't wanna be mocked by the crowd."

you rolled your eyes in response, "i'm not scared, Gaz, i just don't see what all the fuss is about. why don't you do it?"

"nuh-uh, don't turn this on me, missy. you're the one being challenged here," he retorted, earning a soundful hum from Soap, "tell you this, if you manage to stay there for a full minute, i'll pay you a twenty. don't even have to stand the whole three minutes of the record."

Ghost and Price stayed quiet during the whole exchange, unimpressed by the trio's shenanigans. they had endured too many drinking competitions, bets, dares, arguments and blatantly stupid ideas coming from the youngsters of the squad over the years, so nothing fazed the two superiors. underneath their apathy, however, lied a real sense of entertainment, illustrated by discreet smirks after particularly dumb comments - usually dropped by Soap's mouth.

"make it a fifty and we have a deal." you smirked, sipping from your beer pint. if you were gonna humiliate yourself in public, it better be for real cash.

"fifty if you break the record, how does that sound?"

after a second of pondering and a few too many glances at the machine's movements, studying it meticulously to engrave how to properly react when the controller jolts the apparatus from side to side, you uttered a hesitant yes, winning a cheerful chant from your friends and some whistles from the audience. 

you stepped on the mat and quickly hopped on the mechanical bull, adjusting your legs around the fake saddle. it shouldn't be that hard, right? the initial movements were easy - just holding on the chord and letting the laws of motion do the work. you didn't want to admit, but it was actually pretty fun.

eventually, the controller decided he was being too gentle and started picking up the pace, making your body rock back and forth on bull, decision that knocked the air out of your lungs for a split second, before you composed yourself and tightened your grip on the handles like your life depended on it. the crowd shouted gleefully, encouraging you to push through, despite a few snarky comments preying on your fall, just the expected.

what you didn't expect - and neither realized - was the way your teammates were reacting.

Gaz stood there with his jaw almost reaching the floor, being impressed not only by your sturdy grip, but mostly by the way your back arched when the machine tilted forward, defining your muscles through the skin-tight fabric of your shirt. even if you didn't endure the whole minute from the initial bet, he was willing to give you his entire wallet, just to watch you ride it again, and definitely not to imagine you bouncing on his lap for a little longer.

Soap, who has always been aware of your beauty, suddenly had to sit down after feeling his pants tighten at the sight of your plump ass jiggling due the repeated impacts on the bull's back, in desperate attempts to grind yourself. in addition, the tiniest bit of your lacy underwear peeking out of the dark jeans that hugged your hips flawlessly wasn't helping with his situation.

the daring smile that painted your lips, juxtaposing the concentrated frown of your eyes as you tried your best to not fall during an exceptionally wild movement, only supplied Ghost's cock with an overflow of blood, twitching at the view of your plush thighs clenching around the bucking machine whenever it defied your determination by leaning too much on the sides, shaking to make you collapse on the mat.

Price, however, acted as gentleman the whole time, just admiring your ability and strength to stay clutched to the unpredictable machinery. that, of course, was only until he got a view of your perfectly round tits, taunting the edges of your low-cut top and threatening to spill out at any given minute, ready to give him a real show. the adrenaline-filled flush that gave your cheeks an innocent pink hue, felt very similar to the sudden rush on his shaft that made your captain almost choke on his scotch.

three minutes and forty-seven seconds.

"that was so much fun!" your giggly shout and stumbling figure getting closer to the group was enough to snap the men out of their trance. they quickly took notice of your wide grin and the brown cowboy hat placed on your head, followed by the loud screaming of the public that just witnessed the bar's record being broken. 

"come on, pay up, Gaz." you said, sticking your palm to receive your well deserved money in a contained victory dance.

the four men glanced at each other, gathering the courage to speak up after your little performance that had them weak on the knees for a colleague. 

"didn't think you had it in ye, bonnie." Soap stated as Gaz reached for the wallet in his back pocket, almost considering giving you a fat tip for the spectacle. the sergeants were certainly doing a poor job in hiding the blush on their cheeks and small beads of sweat on their foreheads, consequence of trying to ignore the tent formed on their trousers.

your superiors, on the contrary, remained quiet and seemingly undisturbed by the previous scene, silently sipping from their glasses but still watching the chatting trio. only now, they wouldn't dare to get up and risk the others - specifically you - noticing their throbbing cocks marking their pants, yearning for the touch of your silky flesh.

after collecting your gains, you rapidly swayed to the bar counter, ordering a new drink with your sweet, sweet money, while the task force members ultimately etched the sight of you riding the mechanical bull in the deepest corner of their brains - saving the images for the great release when you all get back to base.

okay this is my first official thingy i feel so silly. also english is not my first language so...

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head?

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff - Part 2 Part 3 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 1364

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

You had known all about soulmates, your mom had told you bedtime stories about soulmates and how she and your dad met throughout your entire childhood. They had been hearing one another’s thoughts for quite a while before your dad saved your mom from being run over by a biker as she stepped off the curb. She’d tell you how when their eyes met she could hear him thinking about how beautiful her eyes were and he heard her thinking about how handsome he was. You have hoped and dreamed of meeting your soulmate since you were four years old.

You had a soulmate, that much you knew. You had been hearing his thoughts for the last few years, they were few and far between which frustrated you. Your mom had explained it just meant he wasn’t close by, which sucked. You were hoping that the distance would decrease, given your family’s plans to move.

Hawkins, Indiana wasn’t exactly a town that people were flocking to…but here you were. Your mom had been offered a job at their hospital there as the supervising nurse and your parents had decided it was too good an offer to pass up. Your dad had contacted the local police department to see if they had any openings, to which they asked for a letter of recommendation and pretty much offered him the job.

Things were working out well for your parents. You hadn’t really been sure about the move. Your soulmate’s thoughts had been pretty quiet the last few days but, a part of you knew it was because your anxiety of this move was clearly drowning out his thoughts.

The car finally came to a stop, and you glance up for the first time since you’d gotten in the car that morning, too focused on the music playing from your Walkman and rereading The Hobbit, again. You looked up to see a modest home in a cookie cutter neighborhood, you were grateful for your parents and their ability to provide you with the things you need, but some days you wished your family wasn’t so…average.

“Sweetie, why don’t you head in and pick your room?” Your mom suggested.

“Really? I get to choose?” You asked.

“You have your pick, other than the master bedroom. You and I will organize the remaining rooms.” Your mom explained.

Damnit, if I could just get the chords right.

You quickly jogged up to the door, letting yourself in. You made your way upstairs first, checking out the two small bedrooms up there that were situated opposite the master bedroom, separated by a full bathroom. While both rooms were nice, they didn’t give you nearly enough room to “express your creative freedom” as your mom had encouraged. On the main level there was a kitchen, dining room, sitting room, powder room, and living room. There had been a door leading under the stairs, you were pleased to see it led down into a fully finished basement that had a full bathroom.

“MOMMMMM! I chose my room!” You called as you ran up the stairs.

There we go.

*Eddie’s POV*

Hell yeah! This is fucking perfect!

The thoughts had rung out like an alarm in his head. Her thoughts had never been this loud and clear. What had changed?

She better let me make the basement my room!

Had she finally moved? He had been hearing all her nervous thoughts about packing up and moving across the country. She must be closer now if her thoughts were coming in like this now.

YES! YES! YES! Now…how to decorate?

He smiled to himself. She seems sweet based off what he knows. He had asked Wayne about soulmates when he was growing up. He’d asked questions like “why can’t I just think of my address, so she could find me?” and Wayne had explained that it didn’t work like that. Thoughts were passed back and forth at moments it was needed – in times of excitement, or when we needed comfort, or to vent. There was some sort of neurological algorithm as to what thoughts were sent when.

*End Eddie’s POV*

You had started unpacking pretty much the second your parents agreed to let you make the basement your room. Your dad had even agreed to take you to the hardware store to pick up paint this weekend.

“You’ll start at the high school on Monday. The principal confirmed that he received your transcripts and all your credit hours transferred, so you’re right on track.” Your dad explained.

“Oh, awesome! Did he happen to send my schedule or anything so I could familiarize myself with it beforehand?” You asked.

Oh fuck…fuck, fuck, fuck! I am so late. O’Donnell is gonna kill me!

Your hand flew to your head, the volume of his thoughts brought forth a pounding in your head. They had never been this loud before.

“Bug? You okay?” Your dad looked concerned.

“Yeah, I’m okay! Just a headache. Too many thoughts in there I guess.” You chuckled lowly.

“Honey, was it his thought?” Your mom questioned.

You hadn’t told your parents much about your soulmate, only that you had been able to hear him and that he was, in fact, a him.  They had also been aware that you hadn’t been able to hear him lately – that was when your mom explained that your thought can sometimes drown out theirs.

“Yeah, it was and uh, I don’t know, I guess it was kinda loud.” You shrugged.

“How loud?” Your mom asked.

“I don’t know, loud enough to give me a headache. It was like he was in the room with me.” You looked at your parents, a knowing grin making its way onto each of their faces. “What?”

“Nothing bug. Let’s go see if your principle sent that schedule over.” Your dad wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side.

Monday morning had come way too soon, though you’d had an incredibly productive weekend. Your room was painted and decorated, you’d finished rereading The Hobbit and had begun rereading Pet Cemetery, you’d also memorized your class schedule.

Your dad dropped you off at school, he also told you he was planning to go and check out a car for you after his shift – that had left you pretty excited.

Finally! My own car!

The day was dragging on pretty slowly…truthfully you were ready for lunch.

Then Vecna will make a surprise return.

What the hell?

This campaign is going to be epic!

His thoughts had come and gone like this since you’d arrived in Hawkins. Just back and forth with random tidbits that left you more confused than anything.

The bell ringing had been your saving grace. It was finally time for lunch, and now you were feeling anxious again…where were you meant to sit?

You looked around and before you could take a step, a voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

Here we fucking go.

“We're the freaks because we like to play a fantasy game. But as long as you're into band or science ...or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets...”

God he’s hot.

“It's forced conforming. That's what's...killing the kids!”

Assholes.

Kids were either laughing at his outburst or calling him horrible names, but you just stood there. Could this really be him? This super-hot guy who just caused an entire scene in the cafeteria.

“Me, I am army-crawling my way toward a D in Ms. O'Donnell's. If I don't blow her final, I'm gonna walk that stage next month, I'm gonna look Principal Higgins dead in the eye, I'm gonna flip him the bird, I'm gonna snatch that diploma. I'm gonna run like hell outta here…This year is different. This year is my year.”

He took a step back and bumped right into you, but before you could fall to the ground, he grabbed your arm and pulled you up and against his chest.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

You both let out a quiet chuckle.

All at once, colors were brighter, smells were sweeter, touches were softer. Everything came together in that moment; you couldn’t believe it. Here he was.

[lesbian-for-arthur-morgan]

do you have any headcanons for arguing and making up? i’m a slut for angst with comfort 🙈

Making Up After a Fight

Gender Neutral Language!

Genre: slight angst, fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, and Sean MacGuire Warnings: Dutch is kind of toxic | Not edited

AN: Sorry it took me so long to get these written! I went through some nasty writer's block and decided to play the game a little to help out but all that did was distract me for a week. This is definitely pretty roughly written - I'm also a huge slut for angst with comfort, though, so I hope you like these! <3 ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions

<><><><>

Arthur Morgan:

Arthur gets frustrated easily when he feels like he’s not being listened to or understood. It’s not really anyone’s fault, but his emotions can get the better of him and he’ll say something that he doesn’t mean.

“You got bait for brains or are you just being an idiot for fun?” (or something like that)

You know in the back of your head that he doesn’t mean it, and he regrets it the second the syllables bounce off his lips. Your brain can know something but your heart will still hurt all the same.

Usually when Arthur is getting too big for his britches with you, you can shut him down and put him in his place. It’s something he highly respects about you - not putting up with his bullshit when he gets like that. Sometimes, though, your eyes will start to water and you can’t say anything without feeling a lump in your throat constricting your vocal chords.

You have to turn and walk away or else you’ll cry in front of him. That would just make everything worse.

Seeing your form retreating, knowing that you’re running off because you’re hurt rather than angry, made Arthur’s chest grow heavy with guilt. His first instinct is to follow after you and hold you until you’re feeling better.

But since he’s the one who hurt you, he just lets you walk away and he goes to pout since he thinks he deserves to be outcast for a little while.

He’ll give you as much space as he can bear, avoid you for an hour maybe two, but he comes crawling back with those puppy dog eyes and a singular wild flower in his fist.

He’ll go to his cot where you’re sitting with his hat in your lap. You stopped being upset five or ten minutes after the argument. Once you took a few deep breaths you understand, but you also had to understand that Arthur would come back to you after he was done punishing himself.

So you waited.

When you saw him approach with that sheepish expression and slouched posture your heart bled for him. He was a brute and an ass at times, but he meant well.

“’M’sorry, Darlin’,” He’d mumble and get on his knees in front of you. “I didn’t mean it, I never mean it.”

He places the flower in your lap by his hat and gazes up at you. His hair is long and falling in front of his eyes a little, so you brush the strands away from his forehead to get a better look at him.

His blue eyes are a little red and there’s a deep crease in his forehead from an hour or so of constant worrying.

“You can be so mean sometimes, Arthur Morgan,” You scold him lightly and he sighs, nodding.

“I know.”

He spends the rest of the week making it up to you. Truly it doesn’t matter exactly what was said or what the argument was about, when you are truly hurt by his words/actions it kills him. He’ll punish himself for a bit then come back ready to spoil you with words, presents, kisses, and anything else you could possibly ask for.

John Marston:

He’s constantly arguing with you about something. A lot of the time he just picks at you to get a rise out of you - he thinks it’s funny.

Things can get out of hand quickly with him if he grates on a nerve of yours and you bite back though. His first instinct is to give a smartass retort and it just spirals into a full-blown fight from there.

“John Marston you are a pig!”

You storm off and hide in your tent for a while. He’s just standing there dumbfounded. He starts asking himself why he let it get to that point, why did he have to open his big ol’ mouth and antagonize you?

He tries to get you to talk to him, he’ll pace in front of the tent and start calling your name nicely. He won’t ever open the flap though, he doesn’t want to invade your space and risk riling you up anymore.

When you ignore him he’ll eventually get the hint and wander off.

He tries to figure out something to do while he thinks about how to make it up to you. He offers to help Arthur out with any bounty hunts or little jobs, he’ll offer to take Bill or Lenny into town, or he’ll just pick up extra shifts of being on lookout for the camp.

When you finally come out he has to restrain the urge to run to you and scoop you up, demanding that you forgive him so that he can stop pouting.

He does drop whatever it is he’s doing to approach you and makes small talk to test the waters.

“How are you?”

“Fine, John.”

“That’s good… You still mad at me?”

You roll your eyes and try to walk away, but he shoots out and grabs your hand before you can get too far. He doesn’t hold you tightly; his fingers gently encase your own, if you wanted to leave you could easily. But, you falter with your back turned to him and wait for him to speak.

“I’m sorry, really. You know I’m an idiot.” He’s practically whining as he says it, begging for you to look at him.

You turn your head slightly to give him a side glare. At first, the sight makes his heart drop into his feet and he thinks he really screwed up this time, but when a small smirk starts to quirk the corner of your mouth upwards he lets out a low sigh.

“You are cruel,” He chuckles and tightens his grip as he pulls you into his arms and wraps you up in a bear hug.

Your laughs are loud and genuine as he twirls you around, pressing chaste kisses to your cheeks as he does so. Your voices echo throughout the camp once again.

Everyone in camp knows what’s going on with you and John whether you’re fighting or making up, your business is everyone else’s.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

I want to start out by saying Dutch never actually apologizes when you two fight. He’ll buy gifts, say pretty words, whisper sweet nothings, and all the like, but the words “I’m sorry” have never left that man’s lips in his entire life. He will not start now.

Dutch’s obsession with the O’Driscoll’s can cloud his judgment on many things, it makes him blind to reason. Further than that, it makes him hateful and sometimes just plain mean.

He trusts you, he loves you. So, you’re stuck listening to his plans and his grievances with the gang, the law, the O’Driscoll’s, and any other misfortune he has had to endure in his life.

He’ll go on and on, plotting, groaning, whining. One night, after being sat on his cot for hours, you’ve had enough. You beg him to do anything but complain and come up with a half-brained plan to get rich quick.

It hits a nerve and he blows a fuse.

“You don’t understand what’s at stake, do you?” He’s practically yelling. “It’s so easy for you - I spoil you!”

You’re stunned into silence as he shouts at you. You didn’t expect him to blow up.

“Get out of my tent, get out of my sight!” He sends you away. In a daze you stumble out of the tent and into the dark camp.

There’s a few people still up wandering around. Mary-Beth is singing by the fire and Kieran is trying to sing with her, but doesn’t really know the words. Your feet start moving on their own and you take a seat across from the two at the fire.

“What’s going on, gunslinger?” Karen shuffles to a seat beside you and settles down. Mary-Beth’s singing falters for a minute but she continues on, just quieter.

“Dutch is pissed.” You mumble, staring into the flames.

“When is he not? Have a drink,” Karen shoves a bottle of beer into your hand and watches as you take a long swig. She continues, “Have some fun without him for once.”

The night takes a turn from there. You sing and dance and laugh. A few more people join in until it’s gone from moping around the fire to a proper party around it. Javier even brings out the guitar. The noise is enough to draw Dutch from the dark hole in his tent to see what’s going on.

When he sees you, the tears on your cheeks have dried and your face is flushed from the drinks, he can’t help but feel a little guilty. To him, afterall, you were just naive. You didn’t understand what was truly going on in the camp, didn’t understand his plans.

He creeps out of the tent and sneaks up behind you as you’re dancing along to Javier and Mary-Beth. When a pair of arms wraps around your waist, you let out a little squeal.

Dutch spins you around so that you’re facing him, your bodies pressed flush together causing a heat to flare in your stomach.

“My beautiful dancer,” Dutch mumbles and presses a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t fight, don’t ask any questions. You’re just happy that he seems to be sorry for what he did. He’s holding you after all of that, kissing you. He must be sorry, and so are you.

When he pulls back you gaze at him with half-lidded eyes. “I’m sorry, Dutch.” You whisper.

“Hush now,” He starts swaying as he holds you, leading you into a dance.

Your fight is practically forgotten by the end of the night. In the early hours of the morning, everyone is stumbling back to their respective beds. Stomachs are full and heads will be aching come noon, but to you it was all worth it. So long as you and Dutch aren’t fighting anymore.

Javier Escuella:

He hates fighting. I mean not in general, but just with you.

He won’t allow himself to be taken advantage of or walked all over, but if there’s some stupid argument that’s making you mad he will roll over and apologize. Just to keep the peace.

He loves you more than he loves being right, and if it makes you happy to just admit that then so be it.

When y’all do fight, though, it’s over something big. Stupid quarrels are so rare that the first time anyone catches wind that the two of you had a falling out it shocks half the camp to the core.

Javier would only truly get upset with you in a life or death situation. Like when you decided to not tell anyone you were heading into town really quick and met a few O’Driscoll’s in the general store.

When you saw them you recognized them as few that had gotten into a fight with Javier in town a few weeks ago. Javier let them walk away to save face, there was a large group of witnesses that would have pretty much guaranteed him an execution if he had taken their lives.

Your heart skipped a beat as one of them turned to look at you, but they left shortly after you entered the store and you prayed that would be the end of it.

After you finished at the store, though, you walked through the door to find the three men standing in the road before you. Their arms were folded across their chests and their legs spread in a dominant stance.

You clutched the items you bought to your chest and tried walking away from the trio, but one of them called out and made you stop in your tracks.

“You’re one of Dutch’s people ain’t you?” The tallest one said. It wasn’t really a question, he knew who you were.

“And what’s it to you, mister?” You shot back, reaching for the dagger in your belt.

“I’ve got a few questions for you about your boss.” The three of them started moving towards you. They surrounded you and backed you to the wall of the general store. You whipped out your dagger to tell them to back off, but it wouldn’t do much against three of them - you knew that and so did they.

The only reason you had made it out of that situation without even a scratch was because Arthur happened to be riding through town on his way back to camp and noticed the commotion.

He brought you back to camp, and that’s where you saw Javier standing at your cot with this arms crossed and a scowl darkening his features.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He practically shouts at you.

You didn’t mean to, you held them back as long as you could, but tears start flowing freely down your face in large, hot drops.

Javier’s scowl disappears almost immediately. He didn’t expect you to cry. Maybe yell back or explain yourself, but not cry. He drops his arms and grabs both of your hands in his.

“Are you okay?” His voice is low and laced with worry. Arthur got to him first and told him what happened briefly, so he knew you weren’t physically hurt, but other than that he didn’t know what happened.

“They surrounded me. I was - I was so scared, Javier.” Your throat was thick and it was hard to speak. Javier embraced you, rubbing your back and holding the back of your head as you cried harder into his shoulder.

“You’re safe now,” He assures you and presses soft kisses into your hair.

He spends the next few days feeling guilty for being mad at first.

You tell him you understand his reaction and that you were sorry,but he just says sorry back to you and claims he shouldn’t have been angry when you were scared.

You’re both equally sorry, I guess.

After that, though, Javier refuses to let you go anywhere alone. You don’t have to go with him but you have to have a traveling buddy in case anything like that happens again.

Charles Smith:

Doesn’t fight with anyone, really.

Sure, you can get mad at him and yell and hold a grudge, but he just lets you figure your emotions out from afar if that’s what you need. He gives you space when you need it, attention when you want it, and does anything that he can for you.

He loves you more than anything in the world, so when you’re mad at him it eats away at his insides until you make up. He’s literally the consent king, though, and will wait for you to come to him before he initiates anything.

It feels like he doesn’t care sometimes. It drives you crazy that he doesn’t chase after you and try to make up with you then and there or rectify the situation immediately, which turns into another argument.

“Do you even give a shit what I feel?” You frown at him one morning after a small argument that he just brushed off from the night before. He assumed since you slept with him in his bedroll, that meant you were over it.

“I love you! What are you talking about?” He rubs at the little stubble on his chin in exasperation.

“You never listen you just say ‘okay’ and move on. You don’t learn that way, Charles. You roll over and the same thing will keep happening because you aren’t listening.” You try to explain yourself. Charles nods but you can’t tell if he actually gets what you’re trying to convey since he never acknowledges it more than that.

You sigh and get up.

“I need a minute, come talk to me when you can.” You walk away from him and towards Miss Grimshaw doing the laundry.

Charles just stays where he is and lets out a long deep sigh. He thought it would be better for him to just agree with you, it would make you happy to be agreed with rather than continuing to fight over something so trivial.

He hasn’t been with the group for a super long time, but he’s created a strong bond with Arthur. So, that’s who he goes to to ask for advice on the whole situation.

Charles relays as much as he can back to Arthur and the cowboy just starts to chuckle at the absurdity of the conversation. He’s used to people coming to him for advice (he doesn’t really get why), but the situation with you and Charles came out of nowhere for him. He didn’t realize you two fought ever.

“No relationship is perfect, Charles.” Arthur suggests.

That’s literally no help to him so Charles walks off and tries thinking what to do. He comes up with nothing, though. Which makes him frustrated.

He starts walking towards you. You look up and see his determined face and scrunched brow and excuse yourself to meet him halfway.

“We need to talk.” He says, his words are intense but his gaze is still soft. You aren’t scared of him anyways.

“I think we do.” You reply and follow him to a private area right outside of camp.

The whole time he goes off about how he doesn’t get what you want from him. What you expect him to do or say when you get mad or annoyed.

“I just want to know you care about me and my emotions.”

“Dear, I care about you more than anything in the world. More than life itself, why do you question it?” He’s basically pleading with you to understand him, to finally see that just because he isn’t as forward with every single thought (good or bad) on his mind doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you or your emotions.

It takes little to no time for you to throw your arms around him in an embrace and mumble an apology into his hair.

Even your big fights aren’t really fights.

Sean MacGuire:

Sean does stupid stuff all the time. Literally he does stupid stuff more often than he does anything smart.

Especially when he’s drunk.

One night a small group of some of the gang decided to head into the saloon in town for a drinks for the night. You and Sean were always up for a good time and tagged along - obviously.

It presented opportunity for a little pickpocketing as well (if you didn’t get too drunk and sloppy to do it).

Everything went well for the first hour. Drinks were shared among the group and laughs were bellowing through the air with a contagious warmth. Better yet, no one seemed to be testing the waters and starting a bar fight.

Sean had his arm around you the entire night. He claimed it was to let all the scoundrels at the bar know that you were his and no one should even try to stake a claim to you.

You rolled your eyes but stayed nestled in the spot.

That is, until you were pulled away by your bladder. All the drinks were catching up to you and you slipped from under him to run to the restroom really quick.

When you came back, though, a working woman had taken advantage of your absence to catch Sean’s attention.

In his drunken state, Sean couldn’t even realize that the weight of the woman beside him wasn’t the same as when you were sitting there before. He didn’t say a thing as her arms wrapped around his torso or when she ran her fingers through his longish hair.

Tears fill your eyes almost instantly. You try to blink them away and get a better look at the scene in front of you, but it doesn’t change. It only gets worse as her lips start leaving rougey red stains on his neck.

“Sean!” You shove at his shoulder. When he sees you in front of him, his bleary red eyes turn to the woman beside him. His brain takes a minute to put two and two together, but by the time he has figured the situation out you are pushing through saloon patrons to get out into the night air.

Sean sobers up immediately. He pries himself out of the grasp of the other woman and follows your trail out the door.

He calls your name over and over again until he finally finds you sitting on the street corner crying into your knees.

“Please, Love!” He approaches you and your head whips up at the sound of his voice.

“You stay away from me you dog.” You snap and get up. You’re still pretty drunk as well however and you wobble and nearly fall over at the sudden movement.

Luckily Sean catches you by the arm before you can tumble into the dirt.

“I didn’t know she was there, honest. Thought you was there beside me.” He lifts a hand to your cheek, ready to brush away some of your tears, but you turn your cheek and shrug him off.

“Sure.” You say and try to walk away. He catches your arm again and turns you towards him once more.

“Honest, Love. Why would I pay for sex anyways - I’ve not a penny to me name and you give it to me for free.”

The sentiment was there, but definitely not the right thing to say.

You have to physically restrain yourself from hitting him upside the head at his words.

He sees the struggle on your face as soon as he says it and clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Sean MacGuire you bastard!” You shout at him, but can’t help a weak laugh from erupting from your throat at the end.

“I didn’t mean that, oh lord I didn’t.” The terror in his face only causes you to laugh harder.

The laughter surprises him and even yourself, so much so that the both of you are laughing. Though you don’t really understand why.

“If you ever-“ You say with a mocking glare, “Ever do something like that or say something like that again, I am leaving you Sean MacGuire.”

“I wouldn’t blame you one bit,” He says somberly, still with a small smile.

<><><><>

I didn't write for Sadie because I genuinely could not think of a situation for her or how she would be, my brain died halfway through writing Sean's. I'll just have to write some Sadie focused hc's next time teehee~

[steddielations]

Of course Steve’s birthday is on Christmas.

It’s like the universe aligned perfectly for his parents to ignore his existence. Sure, he got enough presents to cover both when he was younger, when his parents wanted a perfect family holiday card to send out, but it was never about Steve.

When he got older, it was so easy for them to wrap it all up in one, mail him a check from whatever city, until the cards stopped saying happy birthday at all. Steve started wrapping it all up in one too. If his parents were going to leave him alone on Christmas and forget his birthday, it’s better at the same time, one less day of the year to be disappointed.

He hates December. He hates winter. He hates being surrounded by all those pretty lights taunting him for being alone in the dark.

He sort of forgets he has a birthday, until the last couple of years with Robin and the kids. He always tells them his Christmas present can double as his birthday present. Robin never goes for that though, she only gets him a birthday present.

Now comes Eddie. He doesn’t know about the wrap it up in one deal. He doesn’t know that Steve gets all broody around the subject. He’s just sitting next to Steve on the couch, going on about the fishing trip he’s taking Wayne on for his upcoming birthday.

It sounds nice. It’s only one weekend. Steve shouldn’t feel a pit in his stomach that already misses Eddie. They’re just friends, they can’t spend every weekend together, as much as Steve likes tagging along with whatever Eddie’s doing, he has to give him space.

“Yeah so it’s nothing compared to a big Harrington bash,” Eddie teases, passing Steve the joint, “Say, am I cool enough now to be invited to your birthday rager this year? When is it anyway?”

And that’s a simple question, but Steve doesn’t know what it is about Eddie that just draws the truth out of him, that makes him give the not simple answer. He blows out smoke and all the years of forgotten birthdays wrapped in one check and a Christmas card with it.

It’s too much, he’s too much and he starts to apologize, but Eddie cuts him off with a certain intensity he gets sometimes.

“Well, starting right now, fuck that. When do you want your birthday to be?”

Steve chuckles, tries to brush it off, “What? Eddie, c’mon. It’s not a big deal, dude.”

“No, seriously. When do you want your birthday to be, Steve?”

It’s so stupid. It’s so silly sitting in Eddie Munson’s living room trying to decide which day he’d prefer for his birthday, when he’s barely holding back saying how he sort of wishes he didn’t have one at all. He thinks Eddie knows anyway, without him having to say it, so he makes it easier. Eddie always makes it easier.

It takes a couple of tries, a couple cups full of torn pieces of paper with scribbled numbers randomly chosen, but Steve Harrington gets a new birthday that night.

“Yeah, you look like more of a summer baby anyway,” Eddie says and Steve wishes he wouldn’t, it’s so hard not to love him when he does.

Steve gets to tag along on Wayne’s birthday fishing trip, or rather, he was invited, as Eddie keeps correcting.

It’s nice, it’s May, it’s quiet by the river and it gets just cool enough at night to build a campfire. Eddie pulls out his guitar, a pretty acoustic one, and he playfully strums out the chords to happy birthday for Wayne. Steve watches across the fire, he feels warm down to his bones, melting away all those cold lonely Decembers frozen inside them.

Wayne spends his birthday teaching Steve to fish. He catches the biggest one, and he hopes the Polaroid that Eddie snaps doesn’t pick up the tears in his eyes.

Eddie sidles up next to him, pretending not to notice Steve wiping his eyes. He rubs his back, whispers congratulations, “Look at you, summer baby.”

He feels the sun rising in his cheeks, bright and burning. It’s impossible not to love Eddie, not when this is the best birthday Steve’s ever had and it’s not even his own.

Steve forgets all about the new date he chose to come into the world, and as the weeks pass in a warm haze, he stops trying not to love Eddie.

It’s too late to catch himself. He’s already falling as they lie on the trailer roof, talking about everything and nothing while sunset colors melt over them, as he rides along while Eddie deals and calls Steve his summer baby in the passenger seat.

Steve’s so in love with Eddie that it burns, makes him golden inside, even the places in him that have never known anything bright.

He doesn’t want to lose that, so he tells himself he can settle for just this.

And it’s true for a while, until that date comes along, the one he forgot about, but Eddie didn’t.

Robin has a spare key to his house, she helped Eddie plan all this, that’s the only explanation for what Steve sees in his backyard when he gets off work on a Friday in July.

All the kids are there, Dustin Henderson is in the pool that Steve hasn’t used since ‘83, with El Hopper on his shoulders, Mike Wheeler is doing the same holding up Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair and Max Mayfield are wrestling inside a bounce house, Nancy Wheeler is manning the grill Steve’s dad bought for show, Robin Buckley is grinning ear to ear with a bright glass of lemonade, and Eddie Munson’s at the center of it all.

Everyone that Steve loves is there yelling, “Surprise! Happy birthday!”

He can’t describe the feeling that bursts through him.

The July sun isn't in the sky anymore, it’s rising inside Steve’s chest. It’s too big and too bright. This body of his that grew up alone in the dead of winter wasn’t made to feel such warmth, bringing hot tears to his eyes.

He’s hurrying back inside the house before he knows it. He feels bad, rushing out like that, away from his party, but he just needs a second. He has to lean against the kitchen counter, run his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to stop all these feelings from melting out of him.

He hears someone come in behind him, assumes it’s Robin, but he feels a hand on his back, hears a low, reassuring voice next to him that belongs to Eddie.

“Sorry, fuck, I’m sorry, Steve. I should’ve asked if you were okay with this. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that.”

Steve blinks hard, brushing away the tears, “No it’s— It's fine, Eds, really.”

Eddie doesn’t look convinced, brown eyes deep with concern, he holds Steve’s elbows, “Okay well, Robin said you weren’t really a fan of your pool but that’s okay, if that’s what you’re worried about. No one expects you to get in, Stevie.”

He’s perfect. He’s everything Steve wants and needs. The light that’s been missing inside him, Eddie struck a match to it. Steve never knew his heart was so flammable and he doesn’t know how Eddie can’t see that he’s burning for him.

“No, thats— that’s not it, Eddie.”

“Is it the kiddy theme? Listen, I had trouble picking it, so I just thought maybe since it was mostly gonna be kids here and you never had a kids' birthday party then, y’know, summer, pool, bounce house, games— okay it sounds dumb now, I’ll just get everyone to leave—”

Steve reaches out when Eddie starts to pull back, hands catching his shoulders and the ends of his hair, “No, no, please don’t. This is— it’s perfect, Eddie. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

“Then why do you look so sad?”

“Because I—” Steve can’t hold it in anymore, it’s too hot, summer beneath his skin, he has to let it out, “Because I want to kiss you so bad right now and I can’t.”

He expects Eddie to pull back, or worse, let him down gently, like the quick press of fingertips to the flame of a candle, snuff the feeling out just like that.

Instead, Steve’s breath catches when Eddie’s hands cup his face, thumbs brushing away the stray tears Steve missed.

“Who says you can’t?” Eddie asks and part of Steve wishes he wouldn’t, because it’s so easy to love Eddie with every piece of him when he does, and Steve’s going to fall apart trying to stop.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sorry. I just don’t want to lose you as a friend, you don’t have to feel the same, but that’s what it is,” Steve lets it out, let’s it catch fire between them and just hopes it doesn’t turn them to ashes, “I want to kiss you for doing this for me, for being you. I want to kiss you all the fucking time and especially right now, Eddie, but I can’t.”

He waits for it, to be left out in the cold, for frost to cover his bones again, but Eddie’s hands stay warm on his face.

A smile lights on Eddie’s lips, the kind that Steve can feel radiating between them. He doesn’t know why Eddie’s smiling when he should be leaving, but Steve wants to keep that feeling forever.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you, Stevie? You can do whatever you want when it’s your birthday.”

Eddie’s eyes fall to Steve’s lips and back up again, setting off a surprised flare in his chest.

“Whatever I want?” Steve repeats in disbelief, searching Eddie’s eyes.

“Whatever you want.”

“You want that too?”

“I want you, too,” Eddie grins like it’s the easiest thing in the world to want Steve, then leans in.

Their mouths connect and it’s like something fiercely cosmic, a solar flare at the touch of their lips.

Eddie’s been sipping lemonade, Steve can taste it on his tongue. Citrusy and warm, Eddie tastes like pure fucking sunshine, all golden in Steve’s mouth.

Kissing Eddie feels like he’s at the center of the universe. He makes Steve feel like the sun, like the brightest thing in the goddamn sky is Steve Harrington.

No pretty light could compare.

Steve chases the heat of Eddie’s mouth, letting it light a fire inside him. His hands have a mind of their own, making Eddie’s messy hair even messier, then falling to his waist to pull him close and hold him while he just kisses and kisses and kisses Eddie.

They have to break for air, foreheads resting together, Steve misses Eddie’s lips already.

Their panting breaths fuse, gazes locked for a few delirious moments, half-lidded and close.

Eddie breaks the silence, laughing breathlessly, giving Steve’s lips one final peck before pulling back, brushing Steve’s hair out of his eyes for him.

“You good?”

Steve laughs then too, a rush of breath, relieved and light, “Never been better.”

Eddie smiles, taking Steve’s hands in the warmth of his, “C’mon then, summer baby. Don’t wanna miss your birthday party.”

They go back outside and Eddie stays close by Steve with a pretty flush high on his cheeks. Steve’s face feels sun-kissed too, and judging by the look he gets from Robin, it shows.

It should be stupid, having a birthday party with a bounce house and a bunch of screaming kids. Maybe it is a little, but it’s still the best birthday Steve’s ever had, and it’s actually his own this time.

He spends the better part of it trying not to cry, especially when he opens the few presents they got him. He’s not used to everything being about him, but Eddie’s arm stays around him, giving him encouraging squeezes, bursts of warmth that keep him going.

Steve’s not forgotten in the shadow of something bigger, wrapped up in one so it’s easier to forget he exists. No, it’s like nothing’s more important than him that day. He doesn’t need it, and it’s hard to let himself have it, but it’s nice to get a day that’s his.

When Christmas comes later that year, Robin still gets Steve a birthday present, there’s no arguing with her. Then Eddie tries to pull the same thing, and Steve’s not having it.

They’re both in their flannels on the couch, Eddie throwing his legs over Steve’s lap and trying to push the extra gift into Steve’s hands.

“C’mon, Stevie, I swear it’s not a birthday present. It's just because.”

“Uh huh, sure. Just because what?”

Eddie shrugs, rests his arm around Steve’s shoulders and presses the words against his cheek, “Just ’cause I love you,” he says like it’s the easiest thing in the world to love Steve.

Steve thinks he knows what to call that feeling now. The one that makes December easier because he’s got his own summer sun pumping warmth through his veins now.

It's love.

Eddie loves him.

Not just on his birthday, or on Christmas, or only on occasion, but everyday. Eddie loves him everyday.

ao3 link

[lemoncrushh]

Her Album

Summary: Harry has finished recording his album, and he wants her to hear it.

Warnings: Angst, lots of feelings

Word Count: 2.9k+

A/N: A short one-shot written in 2019 in first person from Harry's POV. While this is not necessarily a reader fic, the woman's name is never mentioned. This was written before Fine Line was out, so it's pretty wild to think about it now.

The album was done. I’d made a visit to the studio to hear the final mix and then had lunch with Jeffrey and Glenne. As I drove home, I listened to the songs again in the car, deciding not to stop at my house when I got there, but instead to keep going so I could give one last listen straight through.

I’m not sure how I ended up on her street. It used to be automatic, like taking my shoes off before my trousers, or putting the cap back on the toothpaste. I’d driven down her block so many times before, I probably knew it better than my own neighbourhood.

I sat in the car for a long time, staring up at her window. I wasn’t even sure if she was home. I couldn’t tell if a light was on, but it was the middle of the day and that window was her bedroom, so she could’ve been anywhere else inside. I let the album loop around to the first track again, the opening chords hitting me in the chest just like the first time I’d heard them.

I wanted her to hear them too. I wanted her to listen to the melodies and have them bring back the memories that had inspired me to write them. I wanted her to listen to my lyrics and know they were all about her, even the ones that weren’t as obvious. Songs about love and loss. Songs about sex and lust and forbidden fruit. Songs that sounded like they were about something completely different, hidden behind loose meanings and innuendos.

But they were all about her.

I scrolled through my phone and opened the contacts to her name. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, maybe even months. I’d lost count. Being in the studio had helped to heal my broken heart, and my pride, but it certainly hadn’t erased her memory. She was with me every single day, every moment that I worked on a song.

I almost tapped on her name, my thumb grazing over it. But I stopped myself, turning off my phone, and then my engine. Climbing out of the car, I walked around it to the pavement in front of her building, once again looking up at her window. For a second I considered being like John Cusack in Say Anything, holding up an 80s boom box and serenading her with my music so she’d notice. But I reckoned that was borderline stalking, not to mention disturbing the neighbours, so I made my way to the stairs and climbed them to the second floor.

I stopped in front of her door, staring at it for a good two to three minutes before I even lifted my hand. I took several breaths, wondering if I was making a mistake. She probably didn’t wanna see me, let alone talk to me. She didn’t give a shit about my album. She had moved on.

But I was there. I felt like something had brought me there for a reason, and that reason was to play her my music. Let her know exactly how I felt about her - how she drove me crazy and how she’d hurt me and how I’d hurt her. How in love with her I’d been. How I still…

Finally, I knocked, a little too softly at first, but I didn’t want to startle her. At least that’s what I told myself. When no one responded, however, I knocked again, much louder and with determination.

“Jesus, I’m coming!” I heard her yell from inside. “Hold your-”

She stood before me with a half-eaten apple in her hand, her mouth open and her eyes wide. She wore a t-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back in a loose bun and no makeup. She looked beautiful.

“Hey,” I said, my voice not quite cooperating so I sounded like a frog.

“Harry.” She said my name in almost a question, though she knew it was me. She just wondered why it was me.

When she didn’t say anything else, I shifted my eyes up and down the hall and shrugged.

“Can I come in?”

I admit, I expected her to nod and step back to let me inside her apartment. But when she shook her head, my face fell.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she remarked.

“Um...why not?”

“Because…” she began, her tone hard as steel, “I just got over you.”

“Over me?” I gulped.

“Yeah. It’s taken me a while, but I finally am,” she explained, placing the apple on the table by the door. Then wiping her hands on her shorts, she leaned against the door frame. “You haven’t shown your face here in nearly three months. I can’t just let you waltz on in here and undo everything.”

“‘m not…” I stumbled, “‘m not undoing anything.”

“Then why are you here?”

Her gorgeous but stern eyes glared at me, piercing through my heart. I looked down at my feet, thinking I’d made a mistake by coming. She didn’t want any more to do with me. I’d waited too long and missed the window. Maybe there hadn’t even been one.

Lifting my head, I looked at her beautiful face again. It was then that I recognized the shirt she was wearing - my old AC/DC t-shirt.

“Looks like you’re not completely over me,” I pointed. I dunno why I said it. It was petty and juvenile.

“What?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

She looked down at the emblem on her chest, seemingly just realizing what she had on. With a sigh, she dropped her arms.

“I just like it,” she said, her head held high. “And you basically gave it to me anyway.”

“No, I didn’t.” Shut up, H, you’re making it worse, I thought to myself.

“Well, you left it here. And I ended up sleeping in it. And you never came back, so…” She crossed her arms again in defense.

She was right. The last time I’d been in her apartment, we’d had a massive fight, and I’d told her it was over and stormed out. She’d tried calling and texting me for a couple days, but I’d ignored her, stubborn with pride. When I’d finally agreed to talk to her again, I was only being a right twat, unable to see or accept her side. So, we only ended up fighting again until she said she needed some space.

“I was giving you your space,” I muttered, knowing damn well I sounded like a wanker.

“For six weeks?” she snorted and shook her head. “You have some nerve, Harry.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What was that?” she stepped closer to me, her brows furrowed. “Did you really just say you’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Sorry for what? For breaking my heart? For being a dickhead? For not calling or texting or even saying one word to me for freaking ever? For telling me it was over in the first place? Or for showing up here now when I’m finally over you?”

I blinked. “All of it,” I admitted.

Her lips twitched, and for a second I thought she was going to smile.

“Fuck you, Harry!” she exclaimed.

Stepping back, she grabbed the door, ready to slam it. But I brought my hand up and stopped it.

“I want you to listen to it,” I said, remembering why I’d come.

“Why should I listen to you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“Not to me. To the album. It’s finished, and I want you to hear it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t be serious. You came here so I’d listen to your new music? You really are a douchebag.”

“No, you don’t understand, I-“

“You’re right, I don’t,” she interrupted. “But seems to me you had weeks to explain yourself, Harry. I’m done crying over you.”

She was about to shut the door again when I called out, “I’ve been crying over you, too!”

She stood still, her hand on the door that was opened only a crack. Leaning her forehead against it, I could tell she was holding back tears. I didn’t want her to cry now, at least not over this.

“Liar,” she croaked.

“It’s not a lie, ba-” I almost called her baby, but I knew she wouldn’t like that. Not yet. “Please. Let me in. You don’t even have to talk. Just listen to the album.”

I stood silent for a moment, watching her eyelashes flutter against her pink cheeks. Finally, she let out a sigh and stepped back, opening the door to allow me to step inside.

“Thanks,” I muttered low as she closed the door behind me.

She didn’t reply. In fact, she didn’t even look at me as she grabbed her half eaten apple and went into the kitchen. I stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for her return.

“Okay,” she gestured toward me as she plopped onto the couch. “Go ahead.”

Spotting her laptop on the coffee table, I pointed. “Do you mind?”

She merely nodded and I sat down next to her and opened it. Then sliding my hand into my pocket, I pulled out the USB drive and plugged it in, bringing up the files I’d saved in the studio. With a click of the mouse, the first track began to play, those familiar chords ringing once again. I sat back and watched her, waiting for some kind of reaction on her face.

But none came.

Not when the first track ended, nor when the second song started, the first lyric blatantly about her. I started to get restless, rubbing my palms on my knees and bouncing my leg. I ran my fingers through my hair, a habit she used to tell me was endearing, only now she didn’t give any indication that she even noticed.

Finally, during the third song, I saw her make the slightest move, leaning against the arm of the sofa and resting her head in her hand. We made eye contact for a second before she quickly looked away, her eyes hazy. I wondered what she was thinking. I wanted so badly to ask, to pry it out of her, but I’d promised she needn’t talk.

We were halfway through the album when I caught more movement out of the corner of my eye. I’d been sat with my head down, unable to look at her during track seven, the most intimate and personal song I’d written. My gaze lifted to her, and I noticed her shoulders were shaking. Her head was still in her hand, her cheeks now wet with tears.

I wanted to reach out, to hold her in my arms. God, I wanted that so bad. But I let her be. I knew she needed to cry without me giving false promises that everything was okay. None of this was okay.

I’d cried when I’d written that song. I’d broken down in the recording booth when I’d sung the chorus for the first time. I only just realized as I watched her body shake with sobs that I’d been an idiot for not telling her how I’d felt. But maybe...just maybe she could finally hear me through my songs.

By the time that track ended, I was in tears too. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, sniffling as I tried to compose myself. I sat back on the couch again, my head leant back. I shut my eyes and listened to the next song, one a little more uptempo. I tapped my fingertips on the cushion at my sides, humming softly. This song was about happy memories, when we’d laid on the beach or beside my pool last summer. When we’d been so in love and hadn’t a care in the world. Before all the fighting and jealousy and…

I almost didn’t feel it at first, her hand brushing mine. It was such a light touch, I thought perhaps I was imagining it, lost in the song. But my eyelids fluttered open when I felt it again. I stared at my right hand on the cushion, her slim fingers over mine. She used to like to do that, when we’d be sat together watching a movie, or lying in bed reading. She’d trace my hand and knuckles with her fingertips, her delicate hand dancing over mine before I’d smile and thread our fingers together. It was an unspoken gesture of affection we’d had. I missed it.

God, I missed her.

I raised my head to look at her. I half expected her to be looking at me too, but she was focused on our hands. Her expression wasn’t one I’d hoped either. She looked sad, her cheeks still tear-stained. I wanted to kiss them, make it all better.

I opened my mouth to say her name, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and she looked at me. I turned my hand over then like I used to, wanting to thread our fingers together. But she pulled away, her jaw set.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked, my voice a deep rasp.

They were the first words either of us had spoken since the music started, and I instantly regretted it, knowing I’d meant to stay silent until the end. We were on track nine now, a couple more songs to go. I still wanted her to hear all of it. I wanted her to know I still felt the same, even though I wasn’t completely over the anger, over the heartbreak. But I’d spilled my guts out in my songs. I was shit at communication, I knew that. I hoped that she could understand it all in my music.

“I...I don’t know,” she whispered.

She crossed her legs then, sat in the corner of the couch. She reached behind her head and pulled at her bun, letting her hair fall freely down her shoulders. She seemed comfortable, at least less resistant than she had when I’d knocked on her door. I could tell she wanted to talk, but she kept her mouth shut because I’d told her she could. I also felt like she was really listening though. And that was really all I wanted.

“That was a really good song,” she surprised me after track ten. But she didn’t say anything more.

Clearing my throat again, I sucked in my lips when the final song started. If track seven had been the most personal, this was the companion to it. This was me giving my heart, me asking forgiveness and giving it back. This was me wanting another chance to prove how I felt about her. I’d known as I was writing and recording it that the possibility of that happening was slim to none. But I had to take a chance. I was tired of keeping it bottled up, being a stubborn prat because I’d wanted my way and had to be right. I was all kinds of wrong. I knew I wasn’t fully to blame for our break-up, but I was taking responsibility and owning up to my part in it. I hoped she could hear that in my voice.

By the time the song was over, my head was in my hands. I perched on the edge of the sofa shaking. I’d already listened to it a handful of times in the studio and in my car, but it hadn’t had the effect it had now, sat in her living room with her beside me. I was sobbing like a baby.

“Harry…” I heard her whisper.

When I lifted my head this time, she was right beside me, her face so close it startled me. Her hands were in her lap, and she wrung them like she was either nervous or was trying to keep herself from touching me.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “For everything.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I heard.”

“Will you forgive me?” I asked, turning to face her. I wanted to lift my hand to touch her face but thought better of it. Instead, I hesitantly reached for her hand. I was pleasantly surprised when she let me take it.

“Only if you forgive me, too,” she said.

I let out a deep breath and leant forward. I wanted to kiss her but wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Lifting my hand this time, I grazed her cheek and wiped a tear away with my thumb.

“I still love you,” I admitted. “I never stopped. I’m just so sorry I waited this long.”

She bit her perfect bottom lip, her big eyes blinking fast.

“I thought I was over you,” she said. “I thought you were over me.”

“Guess we were both wrong.”

She leant into me then, and I took it as my cue. I took her into my arms and kissed her, like I’d wanted to kiss her for months. She felt so good against me, and I quickly found myself shedding more tears.

“We still have a lot to talk about,” she whispered when I released her lips.

“I know,” I agreed. “I promise I’m not walking out this time.”

“Good,” she nodded before kissing me again.

We ended up listening to the album again together while we prepared and ate dinner. There were more tears, but also lots of conversation. We had a long way to go, but I was hopeful.

Something had made me drive down her street. I guess it was me.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[cherrychilli]

18+

Eddie Munson, AFAB reader, "shy" reader, flashing, public setting

A/N: My first Eddie blurb, yay! I'm very rusty but I'm trying to get back into writing with some short blurbs so I'm starting off a little light before I dive back into full on filth and debauchery.

Thinking about...

Eddie and his girlfriend who's often too shy to initiate all the naughty things she wants to do with him.

That is until the sexual tension building inside you reaches an all time high one night when he's on stage performing - your own personal kryptonite.

It's almost too much for you to handle, staring longingly at his skilled fingers as they move deftly over the frets of his guitar, a light sheen of sweat making his neck gleam enticingly under the stage lights, shirt riding up so that his stomach and happy trail peek through.

You loved watching Eddie perform, seeing him shine and thrive in his element and look good doing it. Ripples of want had been coursing through you all night, turning into waves as the gig continued, morphing into a storm of desire swirling wildly inside you until you're finally able to cast your inhibitions aside and work up the nerve to do something you've been fantasizing about since watching him perform the very first time, since before he'd even asked you to be his girlfriend.

You flash him.

Hooking your thumbs underneath the hem of your top, pulling both it and the thin lace bra you'd been wearing underneath up over your breasts smoothly. For all the care and effort you'd put into picking out the pretty lingerie for when you'd be alone together with Eddie in his van after the show, you decided this would be a better way to surprise him in the end.

You're at the back of the bar, all eyes on Eddie and the band, everyone else too caught up in the music to notice the girl with her tits out, thankfully. But your boyfriend's eyes had kept returning to you all night while he was up there on stage so when he looks to you again after nailing his solo, searching for your pretty face and your sweet, shy smile in the crowd he gawps when instead he's met with the sight of your exposed breasts and the big proud grin plastered on your face. He's seen them before, sure; been rendered thoughtless at the sight your pebbled nipples and your soft breasts but this? in a room full of people too preoccupied to know any better? risk and thrill intertwining and all for him? it nearly does poor Eddie in.

It's long time fantasy of his come true, made even better because it was you who'd done it and now that it's actually happened, Eddie's so caught up in it that his fingers fumble over the guitar strings, jumbled notes and chords blaring out of the amp but the botched melody fails to catch his notice for he's still too busy staring at your tits.

Some of the audience members begin murmuring and tilting their heads in confusion at how the front man's lost his composure in the span of a couple of seconds and you decide you've had your fun, pulling your clothes back down in time for Eddie to snap out of his dazed stupor and finish the song the way it was meant to be played, all while his cheeks blazed bright red.

There's still a couple of songs left to be played in the set after that but instead, he announces that the band will be taking a quick break over the mic, hopping off stage and making his way over to you.

"Baby, I can't believe you did that", he exclaimed excitedly under his breath once he'd shuffled through the crown in record time, his hands set on your waist, smile impossibly wide, and eyes bright with a telltale glimmer.

"I've always wanted to do that", you confessed with hot cheeks, adrenaline still strong in your veins. "Ever since I first watched you on stage".

Eddie gives you a look, a mix of impress and adoration playing on his features.

"Who knew my sweet, shy girl had it in her?", he pulls you closer, close enough for you to feel that part of him press against your hip.

"Eddie..." , you flustered, quickly glancing around the crowded bar to make sure no one was watching the two of you.

It's obvious he's dying to slip his hands underneath your clothes and touch you and your body burns hot with the same need. He leans in, lips to your ear as he whispers, "How about we head to the van a little early? Y' can gimme a private show this time"

[crashandlivewrites]

@soapsgf and I were feeling gay so we wrote lesbian fics for each other <3

Pairing: fem!Ghost x fem!reader (or rather, stone top butch Ghost x pillow princess reader)

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, mention of a strap, relationship insecurities, Ghost communicating (?!?!), use of daddy one (1) time

Word Count: 2.1k (this was meant to be a drabble oops)

You were cuddled up on the couch late at night in your small flat you shared with your girlfriend, Simone, whenever she was back from deployment. Your hands had slithered their way underneath her jacket and shirt, leeching the warmth from her body as she had one of her muscled arms thrown casually over you, keeping you tucked into her side as her fingers traced mindless patterns over your body.

Playing on the tv was a reality show you enjoyed, yet tonight you weren’t really paying attention to it. Simone had even chimed in a few times, to show her interest in the show for you, but her statements and questions remained unanswered. It wasn’t until something ridiculous happened that would normally have pulled a barking laugh from you that she decided enough was enough.

Switching the tv, she placed a hand over your shoulder, shaking you lightly.

“You gonna tell me what’s been rollin’ in your head since I got home or not, pretty girl?” Her voice startled you, breaking you out of your daydream as you pulled back from her, furrowing your brows.

“What? I’m sorry, wasn’t listening.”

“Clearly.” She gave you a pointed look. “Wanna know what’s on your mind, lovie. You haven’t been right since I got back.”

“Nothing. Just tired. Been a long day.” You tried to dissuade her, waving your hand as you reached over her to take the remote, only to my stopped by her firm fingers on your wrist.

“I’m not stupid, nor blind, love. You haven’t been yourself. You’ve been quiet.”

Cursing inwardly, you looked away from your overly observant girlfriend, trying not to show your discomfort. Of course, she’d noticed the small things that no one else would. Your brows furrowed and you wrung your fingers as you tried to search for the right words. Simone just sat there, a reassuring hand against your shoulder, letting you know she was there to listen. She always was.

“It’s stupid… really, I don’t know why it’s affected me so much.” The hesitancy was evident in your voice, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

“It’s not nothing. It’s got you in a tiff.”

“It’s…” You faltered, eyes flicking around the room as you were unable to look at her. Only when her hand reached out to grip your jaw did you force yourself to meet her gaze and continue. “It’s about sex.”

“What about it?”

“I just… don’t you feel left out?” Her brows knitted together, and she angled her head, signalling for you to continue. “I feel like I’m always just lying there when we have sex. I do nothing. You’re doing everything, Simone, including getting me off but not yourself. Don’t you hate that?”

Her hand went soft on your jaw as her thumb stroked your cheek, eyes boring into yours.

“What stupid video have you seen now?” Blinking, you cocked your head and looked at her in bewilderment.

“How did you—”

“Doesn’t take much. Let me guess, some wanker of a broad on tiktok made a video about how pillow princesses are lazy and should do more work, hmm?” Simone leaned forward, getting into your space as you stared at her, dumbfounded.

“But isn’t it true?”

“I think you’re missing the point of the term, princess.” She elongated the term of endearment as her hand ran down your neck. “I like making you feel good. Just you. Besides, the way you sound when you come, who wouldn’t want to hear that?”

Your face heated and you tried to push her away in protest as she smiled, flashing a toothy grin before running her tongue along her lips. Though her words struck a chord with you, there was still some lingering doubts swimming in your head.

You could count the total amount of times you’d gotten her off with your own mouth or fingers on one hand. The queasiness in your stomach, however, didn’t fade with her reassurance.

“Do you not like me in that way?” Your voice was small and filled with shame, as if you already knew the question was stupid, but you couldn’t stop the feeling from clawing its way up. Simone’s eyes softened and her long fingers ran along the back of your head.

“Lovie, it’s not like that. You know it takes me a lot to want to be in the mood to receive. It’s got nothing to do with not wanting you. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“But your job is stressful! Surely you’d want some release when you come back?”

“You’re my release, princess.” She whispers, voice lowering as she leans in. “The way you’re so obedient for me, how you spread your legs so eagerly, how wet you get when my fingers barely graze your skin… you’re a fucking sight, princess. And you’re mine.”

The drop in her tone sent a rush of arousal through you. Pursing your lips and squeezing your thighs together, you whine in protest.

“I want to please you!”

“You do fuckin’ please me, lovie. The sight of you on our bed, legs spread open, begging for me to touch you like a good little slut. My good little slut. Makes my head spin. Hearin’ you scream my name as you squirt over my face? A fucking godsend.”

Simone was now shuffling over the couch into your space. You felt the sturdy armrest pressing into your body as you leaned back, face heating and heart thumping. True to her words, your legs were unconsciously spreading for her, accomodating her broad frame as she nestled between your thighs, her large hands caressing your pliant one.

“Simmy…” Your voice was barely above a squeak as she cocked her eyebrow up at you, the smirk on her face deadly.

“What is it, my little princess? What do you need?”

“You.” Simone hummed, shaking her head.

“More specific, princess. You know the rules.” Her hands slid up your thin shirt, tweaking at your nipples and drawing a gasping moan from you.

“Mouth… want your mouth Simmy please.”

“My mouth where?” She pressed, squeezing your tits now in her large hands as her mouth descended on the bare skin of your stomach, pressing soft kisses as she waits for you to reply.

Moaning both in delirious pleasure and frustration, you managed to lift your head up and look down at her with a frown.

“You’re so cruel.” You pouted accusingly at her, and she laughed darkly in response, but she didn’t make any further movements. Not able to resist any longer, you tilted your hips up so they were closer to her mouth. “Want your mouth on my pussy and want you to make me come.”

This time, your girlfriend grinned wickedly, adjusting you both so your legs were thrown over her muscled shoulders.

“My good fucking girl, using her words. Gonna reward you for that.” And she did.

Her lips immediately latched onto your clit after pushing your underwear aside, dragging her tongue up your slit as she moaned, fingers digging into the plushness of your thighs. Moaning into your cunt, she moved down, tongue lapping over your wetness as your fingers wound their way into her hair.

She usually buzzed it short whenever she left for the field, then let it grow. Right now, it was just long enough for you to tug at with your fingers as you cried out her name. Simone had always been godly with her mouth, and tonight was no different.

Tonight, she was taking her time with you, pressing soft kisses over your sensitive flesh, her tongue sliding languidly up your cunt, delving into your wet hole and groaning at your taste.

“So fuckin’ wet f’me lovie. Practically dripping on our couch.” Our couch, she says. You grin amidst the pleasure, thinking about how quickly Simone began to call your home hers as well.

Sucking your clit back into her mouth, she reached down so the pads of her fingers were prodding at your soaked entrance. Clutching at her hair, you rolled your hips, eager to feel the delicious stretch as she pressed her long fingers into you. But she didn’t. Instead, she clicked her tongue and pulled back.

“So greedy tonight, princess. What was all that talk about earlier? Wanting to do all the work? No sweets, you belong here, beneath me writhing and moaning like the little slutty princess you are.”

“Simone.” You whined, rolling your hips once more as your cunt throbbed in need.

“Look at you.” She cooed, grinning salaciously as her eyes raked over your body, clothes having been shoved haphazardly out of the way. “Looking like a proper slag now, princess. Cunt all wet and swollen, perfect tits out on display. Should take a photo.”

Your lips parted at the suggestion, the debate waging in your head.

“Is that what you want?” She hummed thoughtfully.

“Probably not. As much as I’d love to show you off and brag to the blokes that you’re a fuckin’ babe, you’re mine, princess. And only I can see you like this.” To back up her words, Simone’s teeth dragged possessively along your inner thigh, wringing out another moan from you.

Returning her attention to your clit, she flicked it with the tip of her tongue, the barest stimulation still sending shivers up your spine and making your thighs clench around her ears. Ghosting her middle finger down your slit, she pressed it inside you, groaning at the ease.

“Fuck lovie… never gonna get over that feeling.” She pressed another in for good measure and curled, making you squeal and grip her hair tightly, holding her face to your cunt as she ravished you.

“Please… oh god please Simmy. ‘m gonna come.” You panted, heat pooling in you. She pulled back, thumbing your clit as she grinned down at you, fingers still plunging into your slick hole.

“Yeah? You gonna be a good girl for me and come, aren’t you? Gonna make a mess all over our couch and make it smell like you?” Now it was her turn to moan as she leaned back down, alternating between her tongue and thumb as she spoke.

“Love the way you smell, the way you taste… I’d live off you if I could, sweet girl. My good girl. Mine.”

“Yours, Simmy… always yours.” You managed to get out, head spinning as your fingers tightened. You were spiralling, her attentiveness to you was unparalleled, knowing exactly where to press, flick, and suck.

Unable to contain the feeling, you cried out, one hand flying to grip the couch below you as your back arched and thighs trembled. You could feel your pussy pulsing around her fingers, clenching around them tighter as the coil in your gut tightened. Your body was tantalisingly close, perched on a knife’s edge before the spring snapped and you moaned her name as your eyes fluttered closed, head tipping back.

Simone hummed contentedly into your pussy, lapping gently as she worked you through your release. Once your body had sagged back down onto the couch and your walls had stopped spasming around her fingers, she lowered back down to place a soft kiss on the hood of your clit. Jerking from overstimulation, you whined softly, but giggled as you opened your eyes blearily to look up into her smiling face.

“So fuckin’ pretty, lovie.” She whispered before diving in to claim your mouth, tongue immediately pressing in so you could taste yourself. Pulling back just as quickly, her eyes darkened with lust, she looked down at you, head cocked slightly.

“Got an idea, princess. Since you had all that talk about doing some work in the bedroom, why don’t you get out that strap of mine that makes you scream?”

Drawing your lip into your mouth, you nodded eagerly, quickly getting up on shaky legs as you stumbled to the bedroom. You could hear Simone laughing as you walked, but you didn’t care. Returning, strap in hand, you held it out to her.

It was a mean thing, cruelly thick and curved, large enough to hit that spot inside you that made you cream with ease, and she knew it too. Standing up, Simone loomed over you, shucking off her jacket and pants revealing her hulking frame, she tugged on the strap before sitting back down on the couch, legs spread in a way that made you want to crawl between them and worship her. But she had other plans.

“Want you to ride me, lovie. Ride my cock until you can’t take it anymore and need me to take over. Wanna watch that pretty face fall apart as you realise you can’t come without me, then I’ll plow you into the couch.” Whining softly, you crawled into her lap, positioning yourself over her strap.

“Be a good girl and ride Daddy’s cock, like a pretty little slut.”

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) Drowning in formaldehyde (Pt. 1)

—

Tw: one instance of canon-typical violence (DC), vivisection mention

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Prologue) - (Pt. 2)

(Subscription post/masterlist)

—

Danny has been working for Mr. Cobblepot for over a month now.

The first few weeks he was in the Penguin’s company, he couldn’t do much of anything. Instead, Mr. Cobblepot made sure that he was well-rested and beginning to recover.

Danny cried a lot in the first week that he was there.

He cried when he ate for the first time in years; the GiW had kept him on IVs and a feeding tube, so they wouldn’t have to move him from his surgical table.

He cried when he was given his own room to stay in, when he was brought clothes to wear, when he was given a bodyguard to protect him.

He cried when Mr. Cobblepot’s doctors told him that the damage to his vocal chords was likely permanent, and that he would never sound the same again. That he would find it hard to speak at any volume above a whisper.

Apparently, he had a lot more damage to him than he had thought.

The doctors said that the scarring in his brain stem suggested his entire brain had been removed and had regrown. Danny couldn’t really disprove that, and it did line up with a pretty substantial gap in his memory, but if that was the case then why couldn’t his voice recover too?

The scarring and incredibly new tissue that showed up in scans of several other parts of his body suggested that the GiW had done the same thing with most of his organs, as well as a few limbs, and all of the fingers on his right hand.

Danny could remember that. He just didn’t want to.

Perhaps it was the feeling of pity that kept Mr. Cobblepot so understanding of Danny’s slow recovery. That didn’t really matter much, though; Danny’s energy was focused on keeping his place here, ensuring that Mr. Cobblepot didn’t decide he was no longer worth the effort.

As it turned out, there was an easy enough solution to that.

Danny was the only one who knew how to properly operate and modify the weapons and inventions stolen from the GiW.

And so, Danny had a niche he could occupy. He could be useful, useful enough that Mr. Cobblepot couldn’t get rid of him, even if he wanted to.

And, as it turns out, Danny remembered quite a lot of the theories he heard while he was on the cutting board.

As soon as he had enough muscle control of his arms to do so, he was working away at the machinery created by the GiW and his parents.

No, not his parents.

Doctors Madeleine and Jack Fenton.

Regardless of their creators, he was able to understand them quite intimately.

Maybe it was because the ectoplasm flowing through the weaponry was his own, maybe it was because he had nothing to listen to for three years other than the excited chatter of his vivisectionists as they cut him open. Maybe it was because they were both simple weaponry without a purpose.

Danny found working on the machines soothing in a way that nothing else was.

The smell of oil and grease, the sounds of mechanical clanking and metal joints squealing, the feeling of cold steel beneath his fingertips.

The first thing he did to the machines was replacing the paint, from shiny white to a matte black. That way, they were recognizable as his own modified creations.

It was only a bonus that he didn’t catch his reflection in the metal surfaces this way.

Still, his reflection was starting to become more familiar to him. It was still strangely off-putting to see, but his face was beginning to plump out from consistent eating, and his skin was beginning to lose its unhealthy pale tone, going back to a more natural pinkish color.

His eyes still looked devoid of life, but that could be ignored as long as he didn’t look at himself for too long.

Danny sighed, leaning back in his chair as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He was working on modifying the ectoblasters so that they could properly hit humans, as per Mr. Cobblepot’s orders.

He probably should feel some sort of moral conflict over it, but really, Danny couldn’t find it in him to care. Maybe it was some sort of deep internal flaw, or maybe it was because he knew that they wouldn’t be shot at anyone without blood on their hands. Either way, he didn’t have any qualms with what he was doing.

As Danny reconnected the circuitry within the gun, the indicator lights on the side of the muzzle blinked to life, a familiar neon green.

Danny would have to change that color too, he thought. Maybe red would be nice instead, or an icy blue?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the door to his temporary workshop opening. Danny looked up, and smiled when he saw that his bodyguard was the one standing in the doorway.

The man, known only as Derringer, was 6’2”, built like a tank, and known for his love of unusual firearms. He was also a big fan of card games, and had been teaching Danny how to play Blackjack during their meals.

He gently closed the door behind him, strolling into the workshop.

Danny hopped out of his seat, hugging the man tightly. Derringer laughed, patting Danny on the back as he clung to him like a koala.

“Good to see you too, kid,” the man said, his deep voice rumbling in his chest, “you just about done in here?”

Danny nodded, letting go of the bodyguard. He picked up the gun on the desk, handing it to Derringer, and pointed to the target resting in the far corner of the room.

Derringer glanced down at Danny, shrugging before aiming the gun.

He pulled the trigger, and a large scorch mark appeared in the center of the target.

Derringer whistled appreciatively, walking over to inspect the damage.

There was a deep dent in the center of the metal target, around an inch in diameter, and a large scorch mark surrounding it. The metal of the dent was white-hot, and the area around it was somewhat warped.

“That’s real nice, kid,” Derringer said, “don’t know how you do it.”

Danny grinned, baring his teeth at the man. He smiled back, ruffling his hair.

“The boss is gonna go forward with the Arkham raid soon, so long as your guns are ready,” he said, “he’s eager to try them out for real. You think you’re up to talking to him?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding to the man.

“Good,” Derringer signed back.

Mr. Cobblepot, not wanting Danny to be limited in his speech by the damage to his vocal chords, had ensured that all of the people who interacted with him knew at least the basics of ASL.

When he wasn’t working on the ectoblasters, Danny was practicing his ASL with a dedicated tutor, or with Derringer, who learned the language when his mother had gone deaf.

“Can I eat first?” Danny signed, “I forgot to.”

“You forgot, or you didn’t want to leave your work?” Derringer asked, signing as he spoke, the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement, “and yeah, the boss wants to talk to you in thirty minutes. You’ve got plenty of time before then.”

“Thank you,” Danny signed, “let’s go.”

“Hey, just a sec,” Derringer said. His face had dropped into something unusually serious.

Danny nodded, tilting his head as he signed a quick “what’s wrong?”

“You’re a good kid. Even after what you’ve been through, you’re…you’re a really sweet kid,” Derringer said, looking away. “But you…you can’t keep being sweet to everyone. You gotta act tough, alright?”

“Why?”

“You just…” Derringer sighed, combing a hand through his thick, curly hair, “a lot of the guys think that you’re too weak to be here. They’re calling you the Penguin’s pet project, and the problem is that they’re not really wrong. You gotta be scarier to survive, alright? Gotham’ll eat you alive if you don’t. Just make up a persona and roll with it.”

Danny nodded slowly, processing his words for a moment.

“Like a mask?”

Derringer laughed, a bittersweet smile on his face.

“Yeah, like a mask. Just don’t start fighting crime while you’re at it.”

“Okay,” Danny signed, his movements slow. “I can do that.”

“Good on you, kid,” Derringer said, ruffling his hair once more, “now let’s go get lunch.”

The two of them ate quickly, Danny’s mind on Derringer’s advice the entire time.

He was right, and Danny knew it. He’d seen the way that some of Mr. Cobblepot’s men had looked at him.

He wasn’t anywhere near big enough to pull off the looming intimidating look that Derringer did; his doctors back in Amity had told him that he would grow to be over six foot, but his time in the GiW seemed to have stunted his growth significantly. He was only around 5’6”, and it seemed that he was going to stay that way.

In the same way, he wasn’t nearly frightening looking enough to pull off the terrifying stares of the smaller individuals working under Mr. Cobblepot. He just couldn’t get the glare right; his face would always fall back to a blank, dead stare.

Though, maybe if he played into that…

A few minutes before they had to leave, Danny excused himself to go to the restroom. He stared into the mirror, looking into his cold, dead eyes, and let his face drop.

When he adjusted his stance, and kept his eyes a bit wider than usual, he looked downright unnerving.

Danny had already noticed that most of his mannerisms were…unusual, after his stay at the GiW base. Put simply, he had forgotten what it was like to be a human.

He had noticed that most of the people around him would avoid being in his presence, and had begun mirroring their body language as much as he could to seem more normal.

Maybe, though, it would be better for him not to.

He could lean into the whole thing. An unstable young adult, experimented on by the government for years.

Danny looked into the mirror, and wide, icy eyes stared back at him.

Danny left the restroom. Derringer turned to greet him, jolting when he did. After a moment, he nodded.

“That what we’re going with?”

“Yes. Is it good?”

“Yeah. Freaky. Gonna take some getting used to, but yeah. Now,” he said, getting up from his spot at the break room table, “let’s go see the boss.”

Danny felt anxiety bubbling up in his chest, his entire body beginning to twitch. If Mr. Cobblepot didn’t approve of the weaponry, or if he thought they were underwhelming, would he be thrown out? Would he be tortured again, or killed?

Danny shivered when they came to a stop in front of the door to Mr. Cobblepot’s office. Failure wasn’t an option. He had to make sure this went well.

“You’ll do great, kid,” Derringer whispered, pushing the door open.

Mr. Cobblepot had been talking with a few other people, but their conversation died out when Danny and Derringer entered the room. Danny’s skin crawled.

“Ah, Danny! Just the person I wanted to see,” Mr. Cobblepot said, a large smile on his face, “Do you have one of your guns with you?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, nodding.

“Wonderful. I was just telling my associates here about your work. Do you mind giving a demonstration?”

“Where should I shoot? Do you have a target?”

Derringer was quick to translate. Mr. Cobblepot nodded, gesturing for a hired hand in the corner of the room to pull out a small wooden board, holding it up in the air.

Danny paled. He would definitely burn the man’s hands if he hit the target, even if he aimed for the furthest corner of the board.

Still, he was more terrified of disappointing Mr. Cobblepot than he was empathetic towards the man, so he drew a blaster from the holster on his leg and aimed carefully.

The blast hit the center of the board. The man holding it howled in pain, dropping the target and drawing his hand close to his chest. The nauseating smell of burning flesh filled the room.

Danny breathed shakily, in and out.

Mr. Cobblepot, for what it was worth, looked like he couldn’t possibly be happier. He and the others inspected the board on the ground closely, ignoring the hired hand as he ran out of the room, still cradling his damaged hand.

A large hole had been blown into the board, and a good portion of it had been incinerated.

“Look at that, ladies and gentlemen! I told you that Danny would deliver, and deliver he did! Imagine if that had been a person instead! Danny, what would you say would happen?”

Danny paused, trying to wince when he realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical, and Mr. Cobblepot actually wanted an answer.

“It would give them S-E-V-E-R-E burns,” Danny finger spelled the word that he didn’t know the proper sign for, “mostly S-U-R-F-A-C-E. It can’t P-E-I-R-C-E, because there is no bullet, just energy.”

Derringer translated for him.

Mr. Cobblepot frowned, and Danny frantically continued, “but it can be L-E-T-H-A-L! Burns on the head kill fast. Burns on the body make S-H-O-C-K, and kill. Strong I-M-P-A-C-T, too.”

“So they do still kill, just not instantly?”

“Yes,” Danny signed, “they’re fast. They hurt bad. Bad way to die, hurts a lot.”

“Well,” one of the other men in the room piped up, “I guess he’s not completely hopeless.”

“Of course he isn’t,” Mr. Cobblepot replied, fixing a terrifying glare onto the man, “it was my idea to bring him in, after all.”

“Danny,” Mr. Cobblepot said, turning his attention back to him, “we’re going to be collaborating with these fine individuals in the future. I’m going to need twenty guns ready for use in a week. You can handle that, can’t you?”

Danny nodded frantically.

“What kind?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Mr. Cobblepot said, waving his hand dismissively, “semi-automatic is preferable, but handguns and shotguns also work. Just make sure they work perfectly.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Well, that’s all. You can leave now, and I’ll finish discussing the details with my associates.”

Danny nodded, signing him a quick “thank you, goodbye,” and slipped out of the room alongside Derringer.

They made their way back to Danny’s workshop in silence. Once they were inside, Derringer heaved a heavy sigh, running his fingers through his hair.

“You really think you can make that many guns that quickly, kid?”

“Yes,” Danny replied, “but I need your help.”

Derringer groaned, a smile on his face.

“Of course you’re putting me to work. I should’ve expected it. Now, what do you need me to do?”

“Well, first, hold this…”

—

[skzooweemama]

Y/n tickling the members to get what she (or they, whichever gender you write for!) wants??

I feel like tiny fics of that would be sososoo adorable😫

Ty but you can ignore this if you want!😅

yesss this is my fav kind of tk stuff 😈😈

tiny fics it is!

plz excuse how long i've been gone- life kinda took me through the ringer in the last two months...

but i'm back for now!! and i wanted to say thanks for 100 followers! y'all are the best!!

i hope you all had a happy holiday season!! enjoy!!

~~~

Bang Chan:

chan was unaware that he was no longer alone until he felt a soft touch on his back that startled him so much he nearly screamed. he hadn't heard the door open while wearing his recording headphones, and now he was paying for it. whipping around in the chair, chan's racing heart was immediately calmed upon seeing you standing behind him. he sighed in relief as he pulled his headphones down to sit around his neck.

"jesus- you scared me..." chan groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"i'm sorry, channie. i didn't mean to startle you." you replied, smiling sheepishly. chan nodded, turning back to save what he was working on. "how's it going?"

chan hummed. "well, i can't get this chord progression right and the defaults on this program are pretty hard to change, so not too great..." he trailed off again, eyes focused on the audio files disguised as colorful bars on his monitor.

you nodded in understanding (even though chan's back was to you) and glanced at the clock on your phone. it was nearing 11pm and it was clear he wasn't gonna get much further without some sleep.

"do you maybe wanna call it a night?" you asked, your tone soft as your hands made their way to his shoulders. he holding a lot of tension there. again.

"is that why you're here?" chan shot back, causing you to roll your eyes.

"i'm just worried about you, baby. seriously, all you're doing right now is getting yourself worked up. wouldn't some sleep help?" you're still trying to be diplomatic, but here's your boyfriend, stubborn as always.

"you know how sleep is."

"alright, now you're just being difficult. c'mon, i made dinner." you say finally, going to grab his coat from the coat rack. of course, chan did not listen and is still typing away when you come back. "christopher bahng, let's go."

and yet again, he ignored you.

you groaned loudly and threw his coat down, now determined to get his butt up and out of this studio. for a moment, you play with the idea of giving him one last warning, but... it really has been too long since you've seen him laugh anyway.

“your funeral…” you mutter, reaching around the back of the chair to grab at chan’s sides.

“what are you- AH!!” he cried out as soon he felt your fingers on his ticklish skin and then broke off into his squeaky giggles. “wait!! nahaha!!”

“i’ll only stop if you agree to come home~" you singsonged, your fingers tickling anywhere you could reach as chan thrashed in his seat. you knew how ticklish he was, he wouldn't be able to hold out for much longer.

chan shook his head "no" for only a moment before he felt your fingers dig into his lowest ribs. "NAHAHA OKAY!!" he relented, giggling madly. you took your hands away as he caught his breath. "alright, lehet's... let's go home now."

you chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. "that's what i like to hear!"

Lee Know:

sometimes eating really took too much energy. it was a complete hassle, especially now. you were so close to finishing a giant assignment for university and you were completely locked in. of course, this is the moment your stomach decides to inform you that it is empty.

the hunger pains hit you like a truck, and you groaned as your train of thought was completely derailed. a glance at the time told you that you had been working for hours, which must've been the reason why you were feeling ravenous.

after much deliberation, you decided that you were at a decent stopping point on your assignment, especially seeing as it wasn't due for another couple days. time to go find some food.

the hallway was pitch black when you finally emerged from your office. it had become pretty stuffy in the time you were in there and you took a deep breath as you made your way to the kitchen. it was dark in there as well, and you assumed minho had probably gone to bed awhile ago.

no matter! you were perfectly capable of making yourself something to eat.

at least, that's what you thought before you ended up standing in the refrigerator light, staring down all the options before you. it was much too overwhelming for your tired brain to handle and you ended up standing there for much longer than intended.

arms snaking around your waist and a nose burying itself into your neck was enough to snap you out of your haze.

"what're you doing, jagi?" minho purred in your ear as you grasped at the arms around you.

you leaned back into him. "'m hungry..." you sighed, shutting your eyes briefly.

minho huffed out a small laugh. "yeah? you should eat something. staring at the food won't do anything."

you groaned and turned towards him, wrapping him in an embrace of your own. "i'm too tireddd..." you whined.

"awe, you're too tired? my poor baby." minho hummed, and you could practically feel him smiling against your shoulder.

"don't tease me." you said, smacking his back lightly. "you should be making me food, though. i worked really hard today. i deserve it."

"do you?" he fired back, tone lilting and even more teasing now that you were getting worked up.

"yes! will you? please?" you pulled away from the hug just slightly to give him your best puppy eyes.

minho hummed like he was thinking. "i dunno... i'm kind of tired too..."

"minnn!" you whined once again, squeezing him tightly. as you did, your fingers dug into his sides just slightly, causing him to jolt in your hold.

"yah! don't do that!" minho cried out, suddenly desperate to escape from you.

you laughed as you realized what had happened and dug into his sides once again. "do what? hm?" he bit back a squeal and pushed at your shoulders. "if it tickles so bad, make me food~" you cooed.

minho's blushing face and red were illuminated by the light of the fridge. he looked so cute, but of course he still had to be sassy. "starve." he choked out, still fighting his own laughter.

you raised an eyebrow. "oh? if you won't make me any food, i guess i'll have to look elsewhere." you shrugged and gave him a devilish smirk, before diving forward to begin to nibble at his sensitive neck.

"AHH!! NOHO!!" minho laughed, shoving at your harder now. you held him fast and giggled into his neck at his reactions, which brought out his snorting and made you giggle harder.

the two of you stood in the soft light of the refrigerator, you tickling and minho laughing and trying to fight you off, until he finally relented and agreed to make you some food. he huffed and puffed and called you annoying, but you knew he didn't mean it. it was his fault that he was so sensitive, after all.

Changbin:

it almost seemed like the clock was moving extra slow to taunt you. when changbin said he'd be at the gym for a while, you didn't realize he would be gone this long. it had been nearly 3 hours! you couldn't imagine what he was doing that took so long. stray kids did have a big comeback tour soon, but usually that meant they'd rest in the weeks before they left. surely chan wasn't encouraging changbin to work out this much.

just as you were about to send a text to check in on him, you heard the front door open. moments later, changbin came around the corner and into the dining room where you were sat, doing some work.

"hi baby! how was the gym?" you greeted, beaming at him.

your smile faltered a bit when you took in his appearance. he looked tired and worried, with his brow drawn up and a far-away look in his eyes. you also noticed his hair was damp with sweat, meaning he didn't shower at the gym like normal.

he offered you a small smile and came over to kiss your forehead softly. "it was alright, nothing special." he patted your shoulder and turned to head down the hall. "i'm going to take a shower."

changbin was gone for a quite a while, and in that time you made dinner for the both of you and waited patiently for him to come out. the shower eventually stopped, but instead of him coming to investigate the smell of food like he usually would, you heard the bedroom door shut. you decided to give him some space and ate alone. after another hour, you decided to bring the food to him, just in case he was really too tired to come eat.

"baby?" you called into the bedroom before opening up the door all the way. "i have food for you! do you-," you cut yourself off as your eyes adjusted to the dim light in the bedroom.

changbin was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed, legs drawn up to his chest as tears streamed down his cheeks.

"oh my god." you whispered, quickly setting the food on the dresser and practically falling to the floor to take him into your arms. "bin, my baby, what's wrong?"

changbin leaned into your embrace and sniffled, choking back a sob. "the comeback- i don't look good enough- i can't-," he barely got the words out, but you understood immediately.

"oh bin, you're so beautiful and strong- you know all your fans admire you for it!" you cradled the back of his head as he leaned into you and kissed the side of his head. "i do too, of course i do... please don't think so negatively of yourself."

changbin nodded against your shoulder, hands fisted in the sweatshirt you were wearing. "i know, i know. 's hard sometimes."

you hummed in acknowledgement and moved so you could take his face in your hands. "it is, i have days like that too." you wiped at the tear stains on his puffy cheeks and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "but you help me out of them, yeah? so i'll help you too."

changbin nodded once again, flushing slightly at your actions. you giggled when he averted his gaze, trailing your hands down his neck and to his shoulders, and then to his chest. you gave him a teasing look and squeezed his pecs gently. he flushed a deeper shade of red, and bit his lip, swatting at your hands gently.

"you're so strong, my love. and so handsome. i can't help but feel you up~" you giggled, leaning forward to kiss his warm cheeks. changbin opened his mouth to say something, but instead a gasp came out when you ran your fingers over the ticklish spot on the side of his chest. "oh? are you feeling ticklish right now?"

changbin shook his head, intent on scrambling away from you. "bahaby, please!" he pleaded as you caught him in a bear hug.

once you had a good grip, you used your body weight to slow him down and dug into his weak spot with a fervor. changbin screamed immediately, throwing his head back and breaking into loud cackles right after. you laughed at his silly giggles and tickled him some more.

"do you promise to come to me next time you're feeling sad?" you asked once you thought he'd had enough.

"YEHES!!" changbin shrieked, still fighting you (but just barely). his face way flushed and more tears streaked his cheeks, but you knew these ones were good. you let him go, but not before drowning him in about a million kisses.

Hyunjin:

it had been about a year since you'd been able to go home to america, and honestly it was fine with you. sure, you missed your family and friends from back home, but you had made new friends here and met the love of your life. plus, your parents visited just last month. what was there to miss?

ah. that's right. american snacks.

korean snacks were good, but none of them were like what you had back home. none of them tasted like your childhood in the same way a good old bag of american cheetos did. sometimes you think you'd sell your body parts for just one taste of something overly processed from your home country.

when hyunjin ended up leaving for tour in the states, you knew this was your chance. while he was there, you sent him a list of snacks to bring back for you. and he did, arriving home about 9 weeks later with your goodies.

you tried your hardest to savor them, but unfortunately it was yet another good thing that was gone too soon. you were back to missing your snacks once again.

that was, until you came home one afternoon to see hyunjin with a collection of entirely new snacks.

"where did you get those?" you asked as soon as you laid eyes on the items.

"what, no hi first?" hyunjin snarked back at you, and you rolled your eyes.

"hi, baby." you said, not at all sarcastically. "where did you get those?"

hyunjin shrugged. "care package."

you looked at him dumbfounded. "from who?" as far as you knew, he had no american friends.

"your mom." he replied curtly, reaching to grab a small bag of oreo bites from the hoard.

"my mom?! and she didn't send anything for me?" you cried out dramatically, looking through the pile of packaging for any sign of a care package for you.

"it might've been addressed to me and you, but honestly i think i'll just keep it all to myself." hyunjin's voice was teasing, but his words made your blood boil. you leveled an icy glare at his stupidly handsome face.

"you better share." you growled, walking towards him slowly. he just shrugged and moved the pile closer to himself. "hwang hyunjin!"

hyunjin stuck his tongue out at you childishly. "make me~"

even though heat rose to your cheeks at his words, you still wanted those snacks. and maybe you wanted to humble your cheeky boyfriend just a little too.

"fine." you shrugged, giving hyunjin a devilish smile as you rounded the coffee table. you plopped down on the couch and tackled him onto his back, your hand immediately finding the familiar spot on his right side. hyunjin didn't put up much of a fight as you dug your fingers into the spot and burst into loud cackles. you cooed at him teasingly, moving so you caged him in beneath you. "aww, did someone wanna be tickled?"

"GAHAHA!! NOHOHO!!" he cried out, throwing his head back as more screams of mirth poured from his lips.

"no? are you sure? does that mean i can have some of the snacks?" you punctuated this question with a jab to his ribs on the left side, which had him gasping and reaching for your hands.

"WAHAHAIT!! AH- AHAHA!! PLEHEHEASE!!" hyunjin forced the words out between loud laughs, his hips bucking from beneath you. you leaned forward to see glistening trails of tears running down his cheeks. you didn't wanna kill him, so you let up on the attacks on his midsection in favor of scratching gently at his neck.

hyunjin was panting and squirming beneath you, soft giggles escaping him as he looked up at you with half-lidded, teary eyes. god, he was so attractive.

"so? are you done being a snack tyrant?" you asked, smiling down at him and dropping a kiss to his wet cheek.

hyunjin shivered when you accidentally scratched at the especially sensitive spot below his right ear, and nodded. "yehehes, yes i'm dohone!"

finally, you stopped your tickling and dropped a quick peck on his lips. "good! i've been craving cheetos like crazy." you chirped as you climbed off of him.

hyunjin sighed and watched you go searching through the pile. you were lucky he loved you so much. he didn't share snacks with just anyone after all.

Han:

"han jisung, i swear to everything that is good and holy, if you sing that song one more time, i'm going to freak out!"

"babyyyy! ed sheeran is so good! i can't help it!"

this had been an ongoing argument for most of the day. you just wanted some help decorating for christmas, and of course your wonderful boyfriend was more than willing to help. you expected a day of holiday music, a fire in the fire place, and maybe some hot cocoa. instead, jisung had officially ruined "shape of you" by ed sheeran (although, let's be honest, that song was pretty much ruined anyway). over and over and over again he sang the chorus. sometimes loud, sometimes soft, sometimes in english, and sometimes poorly translated in korean. he said he needed the practice for when they translated their own songs, but that seemed like an excuse.

regardless, you were at your wit's end and you just needed him to stop.

"my love, you know i adore your singing, but please pick a new song. there are so many nice christmas songs!" you said, rooting through box after box in search of your christmas tree star.

jisung was looking through a box of his own and sighed loudly at your words. "fineee. it's just stuck in my head!" you shot him a look. "...but i'll find something else to sing..." he grumbled in defeat.

"good. ah!" you reached into the box and pulled out the shiny gold star. "found it. wanna put it at the top of the tree for me, ji?" jisung immediately perked up and nodded, grabbing the star from you and quickly scaling the ladder you had set up next to the tree. you laughed and stood behind him, grasping his waist when he wobbled a bit as he reached to set the star on top. "be careful!" you scolded playfully, giving his waist a squeeze.

jisung nearly fell of the later again when he felt the squeeze, clasping his hands over yours as he buckled over with a yelp. you giggled and took your hands off him as he climbed down.

"sorry baby, i didn't mean to tickle you~" you cooed, kissing his reddening cheek. jisung pouted a bit at you, but when you moved to grab his hips again, he ran back to the boxes to find the lights and ornaments.

the two of you spent another hour decorating the tree without much more incident. the lights were sort of a pain to untangle after having been in storage, but eventually you had gotten them placed on the tree while jisung began to hang ornaments from the highest branches. after the lights were all plugged in, you went back to get some ornaments of your own. jisung was still stood on the ladder with his back turned to you when you heard a faint murmur.

"girl you know i want your love..." the sound just barely reached your ears, but it was enough to draw your attention.

"jisung. what was that?" you asked, crossing your arms. jisung made a coughing sound, glancing back at you briefly.

"um. nothing?" his words were unsure, and you knew he was being a little liar because of the blush sneaking up the back of his neck.

"oh really? did ed sheeran's ghost just invade our home then? because i was sure i heard someone singing shape of you again." you said, words teasing as you walked back over to where jisung stood on the ladder.

"yeah! yeah that must be it. i dunno what else it could be." he still wouldn't look at you.

"oh you don't? well i definitely do." with that, you reached up and started squeezing at his hips. jisung was just able to hang the last ornament in his grasp before he squealed and collapsed backwards. luckily he wasn't too far off the ground and you could catch him before he hurt himself.

you wrapped you arms around him, hands poised to attack his sensitive little waist. jisung craned his head back to look at you, his eyes wide and pleading.

"baby! please don't!! i'm sorry, i won't sing it again!" he whined, squirming in anticipation.

you gave him a look of faux sympathy before you dug right back into his flesh. the pinching, massaging, and scratching had jisung weak in the knees as loud laughter escaped him.

"GAHAHA!! NOHOHO!!" he shrieked, kicking out. you sure were glad that you were behind him now.

you giggled at his reactions and pressing ticklish kisses to the back of his neck, causing him to throw his head back and wack you in the nose.

immediately, you let him go with a cry of pain and cupped your throbbing nose. blood poured from your nostrils, covering your hands and face.

"oh no! oh no, baby, i'm so sorry-" jisung cried, pulling you into a tight hug, clearly not caring that he was wearing a white sweatshirt. when he pulled away, he took your face into his hands. "lemme see. i need to see if it's broken." after a trip to the bathroom to stem the bleeding and some poking and prodding, it was determined that nothing was broken. some cuddles on the couch healed your bruised ego, however, that was probably the last time you'd tickle your boyfriend for a while.

Felix:

"felixxx! you know i can't make them like you do... will you please help me?" you whined, throwing yourself dramatically on the bed.

you were on your period and absolutely fiending for some of your boyfriend's brownies. they were relatively simple to make, but you could never make them like felix did. and now he was outright refusing to make you any, instead playing games on his PC with seungmin. what were you supposed to do??

felix snorted out a laugh at your words but made no move to turn away from his game. he had been playing league of legends with seungmin since he got home from rehearsal. which was only like an hour ago, but still- didn't they get enough of each other already?

"are you even beating him?" you asked, now staring up at the ceiling.

felix let out an affirmative hum. "yep, he's losing. badly." he sounded way too smug.

you scoffed and sat back up. "yeah? i doubt it." you moved to stand beside his gaming chair and took a look at his monitor screen. it looked like felix was winning. "huh. surprising."

your boyfriend huffed at you and reached over to grab at your side.

"hey!" you cried out, jumping away from him and muttering, "jerk."

"watch it, i won't help you if you're mean to me."

you groaned, and sat back down on the foot of the bed. felix went back to his game and you watched him, praying he'd be done after this last round. the gentle clicking of his keyboard would be relaxing- if you weren't craving the brownies with every part of your being. no matter, you could be patient.

thankfully, by the time your patience had worn thin, felix was powering down his PC. you sat up, ready to go make the brownies and finally halt your craving in its tracks, when you were tackled back onto the bed. a head of blond hair started nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and the familiar tickling feeling make you jolt.

"gah! i thought we were gonna make brownies!" you cried out, making felix's chuckles reverberate through your body. in sharp contrast to your words, your hands just naturally slipped beneath his sweater and began to trace shapes on his back.

"'m tired." felix grumbled against your neck. you knew he was being a little shit to get you angry. you could practically feel him smirking.

"lix! please? can't we cuddle after?" you were getting more and more restless.

he made another noncommittal noise, so you decided to take matters into your own hands. literally.

"felix, if you don't get up and help me make brownies, i will tickle you within an inch of your life." as the threat left your mouth, you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

"i- what? GAH!"

you dug your fingers into his sides when you didn't hear an immediate "yes i'll help you", and felix immediately began to thrash on top of you, desperate to get away. but your hold was tight and you weren't budging until he gave you the answer you wanted.

"NAHAHA!! I'M SOHOHORRY PLEHEHEASE!!" felix screamed, barely able to speak through his laughter. he was so loud, especially since he was right by your ear. part of you hoped he learned his lesson soon, but the other, more sadistic part of you hoped you could tickle him until he passed out.

fortunately for felix, you did still want those brownies. you let up your attack just a bit so he could catch his breath and finally agree to help you out. he did, pulling away from you with a flushed face and frizzy hair, still giggling like a kid.

you smiled and smoothed his hair out, pressing a kiss to his lips before scooting off the bed. the rest of the evening was spent in the kitchen, felix teaching you how to perfect his recipe and you marveling at just how lucky you were.

Seungmin:

movie nights with all of the members of stray kids were your favorite, no contest. you always had so much fun when all nine of you gathered together to watch whatever film they voted on, either taking over one of the dorms or your apartment. in dating seungmin, you gained a whole friend group that you couldn't be more thankful for on top of a cute, caring, and funny boyfriend.

tonight, the movie was kill bill: volume 2 (you had watched the first one all together last week), and you all were wondering if the bride would actually kill bill this time. unfortunately, you never got the answer to that question because you ended up falling asleep only 30 minutes into the movie.

"hey," a soft voice roused you. "we're gonna head out, is seungmin okay staying here?"

you opened your eyes to make out the form of chan standing over you with a soft smile on his face. everyone else was standing by the door, and they waved "bye" when you looked over.

"yeah, yeah, no, he's fine. where is he-," as you went to sit up, you felt a weight on your lap and looked down to see seungmin fast asleep on your lap. chan giggled a bit at you, and you gave him a sheepish smile. "ah. yeah, he's fine."

"alright. let me know what you thought of the movie if you get a chance to finish it." he said, headed towards the door to join his members. you nodded and waved as they left.

after the front door shut, you rubbed your eyes and stretched, reaching for your phone on the coffee table beside you. the screen lit up and you saw that it was late. oh well, you had weekend off, as did seungmin.

your eyes moved to the boy sleeping in your lap. he was on his side facing you, his cheek squished against your thighs as he let out soft, hardly audible breaths. you smiled. he was pretty cute when he was asleep. he was cute all the time, but when he was sleeping he had the tendency to be significantly less annoying.

while you were perfectly content staying on the couch and allowing seungmin to use you as a pillow, your bladder had other ideas.

you really had to pee.

at first, you tried to move gently off of your lap, but either he was really heavy or you were really weak because he was not moving. no matter, you just had to wake him up. it wasn't ideal, especially because he gets grumpy after naps, but peeing yourself was not on your agenda tonight.

gently, you brushed his bangs away from his eyes and patted his cheek. "min? baby, i have to pee. why don't you go get some clothes to change into and i'll meet you in my bed?"

seungmin groaned, turning to bury his face further into your lap.

you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. "can you move just a bit? please?" no response from the sleepy boy. "kim seungmin, i swear to god..." you muttered.

suddenly, an idea came to you. it was mean, but you had no choice if he wasn't going to move on his own. you moved your hand from his hair and rested it on the nape of his neck. seungmin didn't react, so you gently scratched at his skin.

he shifted and tried to pull away from your hand while still using your legs as a pillow. you felt him start to shake as he tried to bite back his giggles. he was awake, that brat.

"seungmin, i know you're awake~," you cooed, bringing your other hand to double the attack on his neck. "better move or this will get a whole lot worse."

seungmin rolled over just enough so that you could see the sleepy smile on his lips as he giggled. "nohoho!"

"no? alright, whatever you say." changing tactics, you reached down and began to massage his sides quickly. your boyfriend let out a yelp of surprise and tried to roll away, which only ended up with him on the ground.

you followed him as he went, tickling wherever you could reach when he landed on his front. once he was fully off of you, you squeezed his hips one more time, patted his butt, and got up to run to the bathroom. seungmin whined at you, promising revenge.

he wasn't actually gonna do anything to you, he was too tired. that is, until you turned around before you reached the hallway and stuck your tongue out at him. oh, you were in for it.

I.N:

as much as you loved your boyfriend, sometimes he sucked, especially when you wanted to cuddle. granted, you knew when you started dating him that he was not one for a lot of physical touch. in fact it was one of the first things you learned about him.

however, once you started dating him, you realized that you were his kyptonite. he didn't like cuddling unless he was cuddling you. he hated to admit it, but it was true.

it was friday and your week had been complete shit. with changes happening to the company you worked for, you had been at risk of getting laid off. you didn't, thankfully, but you did lose a few coworkers that you were close to and now you had to take on their workload as well. all in all, it was beyond stressful and you just needed some affection.

jeongin knew that. of course he did.

so why was he cleaning the kitchen instead of joining you on the couch?

"innie! please? i'm so lonely..." you called from the couch, slumped over dramatically.

"in a minute, jagi. i have to finish cleaning up." he said, glancing up at you with a smile that was just big enough for his dimples to peek out. god, he would be the death of you.

you looked away from him to avoid flustering yourself and crossed your arms over your chest. "yeah, whatever. dinner wasn't even that messy..."

jeongin chuckled at your words and went back to cleaning.

about ten minutes later, you decided the kitchen was clean enough. you pulled yourself from the couch and walked into the kitchen, pulling him into a back hug.

"are you getting restless?" he asked, his voice teasing.

"i miss you..." you mumbled into his back.

"missed me? where have i been that caused you to miss me?" at his words, you reached beneath his sweatshirt and tweaked his side. he let out an "ah!" and tried to pull away from your grip.

you giggled. "don't be a smartass. come cuddle."

"i will, i will. i just need to- AH! dohon't!!" you cut him off with his own giggles as you started squeezing his sides again. jeongin collapsed forward, leaning against the counter as you tickled him gently.

you weren't sure where you got the idea to do this, but it seemed to be encouraging him to listen for once.

at least, that was until he suddenly broke free from your grasp and began to run like his life depended on it.

"hey!" you cried out, following him down the hallway.

jeongin slipped into the bedroom and tried to shut it before you could get in, but you caught the door before it swung shut and tackled him onto the bed. you boyfriend started laughing in anticipation before you even touched him, which was so cute that you couldn't just let him go now.

though he was stronger than you, you managed to pin him in a way that allowed you one free hand to wreck every spot you could reach. you squeezed his sides, scratched his tummy, counted his ribs, and even dug into his armpits when he tried to push you away.

jeongin was thoroughly exhausted by the time you were done with him, red, tear-streaked face and all. he was practically boneless as you let him go, only moving to pull you into his chest and press a kiss to your hair.

finally, you got the cuddles you craved (and one slightly vengeful boyfriend), and your shitty week suddenly had a bright side.

[merakiui]

PLEASE, elaborate more on the idea of ​​being a vulnerable maiden who became a general's spoils of war. Honestly, I wouldn't mind being criticized by that man, let alone being full every night after he used me.

OTL I need him carnally. Just war-driven, mostly heartless Lilia who isn’t afraid to do what must be done for the sake of victory in battle!!! >v<

Imagine General Vanrouge who, in the wake of a battle that leaves your defenseless village in ruins and aflame, finds you amidst the debris. You’re injured and cradling your stomach; he assumes you may have sustained an abdominal injury with how desperately you clutch the area, and he surmises if it isn’t treated you’ll eventually bleed out or it’ll become infected. So he’s sensibly callous when he decides he’ll put you out of your misery, as there’s no way he’s taking you along. He needs to lead his men elsewhere to recuperate and regroup after a hard-fought battle. But just before he can deliver a killing blow, your arms shoot out in defense and he spies the rounded bump you were once previously protecting.

Ah. He understands now. You’re with child.

Normally he wouldn’t care. Life and death are essentially much the same when you’re trapped in war: it’s cruel suffering. But something about you strikes a chord within him. He bends down to where you’re huddled on the ground and slides his mask up so you can be at ease. Even bloodied, bruised, and broken, you’re a pretty thing. He’s not normally swayed by tears or pleas for salvation. War hardens anyone, especially those on the frontlines. Yet there’s so much potential growing inside you—a little one you love and care wholeheartedly for. This is the only time he’ll make an exception. No one says anything when he lifts you with ease, carrying you like one might carry a bride, and gives the signal for his men to regroup at the designated checkpoint. You’re terrified, too startled to move in his arms, but you’re not dead. And being scared and alive is a fate far more relieving than death. Or so you hope.

You’ll be allowed to live under a few conditions. One: You must be watched over by soldiers in intervals, as Lilia can’t take any risks. You might be a spy or a danger to his troops. He has to think objectively. Two: You’ll live like a soldier. Of course there will be some degree of leniency, considering you’re carrying a child. Lilia will make sure you’re safe and well-fed (or about as well-fed as you can get with war rations) so that you won’t lose your baby. Three: You must always be honest. Though General Vanrouge can be intimidating, he isn’t a monster. He’ll listen if you voice logical complaints. He’s somewhat softer on you knowing you’re pregnant, so if something’s wrong you must tell him. This is especially important as the months pass and your due date draws near. Lilia has to make appropriate plans for the day when you’ll inevitably give birth, so knowing ahead of time will be useful. Four—and this one is a strange one: You must service General Vanrouge whenever he wishes, as it’s a fair trade. He wants to be rough, especially if he’s frustrated with the outcome of a battle, but he keeps his strength in check. You’re allowed to set the pace, to ride him if it pleases, to pick which positions he fucks you in because it has to be easy and comfortable on your body, especially depending on how big your bump is. You’re the only one he’ll make these exceptions for. It’s a special, rare honor.

The soldiers observe their general’s taken quite the liking to you. But then they all love you, too. You know how to cook delicious stews when they manage to scrounge up enough ingredients for one. But no one can love you more than Lilia. He’s grown fond of his sweet spoil of war. <3 it’s a good thing he claimed you, otherwise Death himself would have made you his and Lilia is always defying him on the battlefield.

[jklinges2003]

Just a Ghost of a Girl You Once Knew and Loved

A/N: Hey guys I decided to make my first short fanfiction on here. Even though I’ve made a lot of fanfics on Quotev, this is my first time writing one on tumblr, so if I mess up, don’t judge lol! Anyway, I started watching “The Summer I Turned Pretty” with my mom, including watching season 2 this summer and I swear it just leaves me intrigued, makes me laugh, makes feel like I’m actually in it and I wish I really was. And I am so team Jeremiah all the way! So, after I watched 2x06 and 2x07, in episode 6, Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss while at the end of episode 7, they finally kiss, but I can’t find the GIF from episode 6 from when they almost kiss cuz that’s what I want this short fanfic to be about and take place in. And I also might switch POVs.

codes: Y/N = Your name

Y/EC = Your eye color

SUMMARY: So, I imagined what would happen if a girl in the show (Y/N) was best friends with Belly for a long time and had a huge crush on Jeremiah at first, and even Y/N hooked up with Jeremiah in the first season but after him and Conrad’s mom Susannah died and after Y/N has been seeing signs of Jeremiah having feelings for Belly, they broke up before the events of season 2, but Y/N’s feelings for Jeremiah have never faded and as the group reunited in season 2, Y/N has been holding onto hope that something could happen with her and Jeremiah because she’s missed him so much. And even Jeremiah feels the same, but he just wouldn’t admit to her or even to himself since a part of him still has feelings for Belly. And throughout season 2, Y/N has been trying some casual attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention but failed every time. So, one night as the gang throws a party at the beach house to honor Susannah, and while Y/N was hanging out with a couple of friends, she witnesses something that just pushes her to her breaking point, increases her insecurities and her anger/jealousy towards Belly while she’s been trying to keep her friendship with her intact, and Y/N’s heartbroken behavior strikes a chord in Jeremiah and hits him with guilt.

SONG: “Part of Your World (Reprise II)” by Halle Bailey from Disney’s live-action Little Mermaid. I feel like the song matches Y/N’s situation really well, and I love Disney songs, so I wanted to choose this song.

Y/N’s POV:

The party for Susannah has been going great! It’s fun, loud, and it was a beautiful way to honor Susannah. I hoped I’d get closer with Jeremiah this time because out of all the attempts to try and get his attention while he’s been going all lovey-dovey on Belly even though they’re not even dating, I’ve failed. Jeremiah and I had something special last summer, we bonded really well, he brought out the best in me, and there’s nobody like him. He’s irreplaceable. At first I’ve always been a very shy and self-conscious girl, but after bonding with Jeremiah, his childish personality and his sweetness and fun energy is just so contagious that it just makes you wanna have fun and laugh with him. So, he brought out the fun and confidence that I never knew I had in me. And we even felt a strong connection and spark between us. Being with him always made me feel safe, he’s easy to talk to, he’s relatable, his light blue eyes just take my breath away and you can easily see the emotion in them. But, unfortunately, I regret us breaking up in the first place after Susannah died. And I could see it in his eyes that he does, too. Whenever he and I would talk, I could easily see that he feels lost and confused, like he wants to be with me again as if us breaking up was a mistake for him, too, but also another part of him wants to be with Belly since his feelings for her never faded while my feelings for Jeremiah have never faded. And every time he’d be affectionate and sweet towards Belly, my close best friend and who’s like a sister to me, I can’t help but feel nauseous as if seeing the sight of them together just makes me wanna puke, even though they’re not dating, but I respect their close friendship since they grew up together, and I have been trying to be strong and understanding and nice, but inwardly I just feel sick and it’s suffocating me, like I’m tired of bottling it up. And I have no one to talk to about it since I feel like they wouldn’t understand and that they’d think of me as just a sad pathetic ex-girlfriend who can’t get over her ex-boyfriend.

After watching Taylor and Steven’s talented dance moves for the song “Party In The U.S.A.”, I went back to hang out with Nicole and Dara. We laughed and talked for a bit until one of the girls brought up a relationship she’s in, and that immediately made me think of Jeremiah.

Since Jeremiah has always brought out the confidence in me, I have been thinking about it for a while and I have been waiting all summer to tell him my feelings and that I’ve never stopped loving him even though I was scared to since I didn’t wanna stand in the way between him and Belly. But, I realized I’ve got nothing to lose, and that it’s now or never.

I excused myself from the girls and walked into the crowd to look for Jeremiah. I looked and looked and looked. Until I saw something that just hit me in the heart. I saw Jeremiah and Belly sitting together closely, talking and looking at each other that way. I stood and watched worriedly as I glanced at Jeremiah and then Belly. The way they looked at each other was the same way me and Jeremiah looked at each other last summer when we hooked up and fell in love. I felt like I just wanted to run out of the room and throw up. Then, they stopped talking while still looking at each other with smirks, and then they both slowly leaned in, almost about to kiss until a girl yelling “Fight! Fight!” in another room interrupted them and gathered a crowd. Seeing Jeremiah and Belly almost kiss just hit me in my breaking point. I was about to tell Jeremiah how I felt and that I never stopped loving him, but after seeing what I saw…my chance was ruined. I was too late. The hope I had in me all summer was broken and turned into dust. And I felt ignored after all the tried-and-failed attempts to get Jeremiah’s attention, like as if I were a ghost of a girl he once knew and loved. Like as if what we had before was just nothing.

While the fight between Taylor’s ex-boyfriend Milo and Belly’s brother Steven was occurring in the other room, some other kids didn’t bother to watch the fight and just stayed behind, wanting to stay out of it. And also they were also either drunk or high. I’ve never been one to drink or do drugs or smoke or any of that stuff, I’ve made a vow to myself that I’d live life in a clean state of mind. But after witnessing Jeremiah and Belly together, since it hit my breaking point, I was at that stage where I didn’t wanna feel anything anymore.

I walked over to the group of kids in the kitchen, not wanting to talk to them, and instead just opened the fridge and grabbed a bottle of beer. Since my emotions were shut off, I let my impulsiveness get the best of me and I started to open the bottle and chug the alcohol drink. I didn’t care that it tasted bad, I was just tired of feeling this way. After finishing half of the bottle already and walking around the party, trying to avoid Jeremiah, I then saw him and Conrad standing outside with Belly stuck in the middle of them and the two brothers were arguing, and I could easily tell that it was about Belly.

Ever since Belly has been hooking up with Jeremiah at first and then Conrad and then having to choose between them, I felt bad for her but I also got irritated at her because every time they would be loving and sweet to her, instead of listening to her heart about who she truly wants to be with, she just kept letting it happen and kept throwing herself at them, playing both brothers. They both don’t deserve that. Especially Jeremiah since after he and I got together, Belly and Conrad got together temporarily, and then since Jeremiah’s been crushing on Belly while he was really in love with me, and he was angry at Belly for hooking up with Conrad since her and Jeremiah kissed before while he and I were together which also caused our relationship to go downhill. The love triangle between Jeremiah, Belly, and Conrad is just stupid and annoying since Belly won’t make a decision about who she truly wants to be with, and now with me in it, it has turned into a love square. And the last thing I wanted was to be involved in a love triangle, let alone a love square. And now I got dragged into it due to my feelings for Jeremiah never leaving me. Could things get any worse?!

I continued drinking the rest of the bottle of beer, trying to numb everything inside me and to just escape from the pain. I started to get a little tipsy and even though it felt wrong, it also felt good since it helped numb the pain. Then while stumbling around the party and then sitting on the floor in a corner of a room, taking a few more swigs of the beer bottle, I started to lose myself into sorrow and despair.

The bottle of beer was then almost done. I was now really drunk. I kept accidentally bumping into people while stumbling and trying to keep myself standing. But, I started to hear Nicole ask me if I was okay since she saw that I wasn’t myself. My facial expression was blank, my eyes looked like as if something inside them had died, my face was tear-stained which caused a bit of mascara to run down my face, and my hair was a little bit untidy. When she asked if I was okay, my vision was blurry, my hearing was distorted and echoey, and my head was spinning and fuzzy. I didn’t respond to Nicole and instead just accidentally lost my balance near another kid who was carrying a glass of a drink, causing that kid to accidentally drop his glass which broke when it fell. And when I fell, the palm of my hand landed on the broken glass which caused my hand to bleed a little, but I didn’t feel the pain since I was numb and drunk.

A tiny crowd of the people gathered around me and started to look at me in concern, worry, and confusion all at once, and that was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t wanna be viewed as someone who was fragile and vulnerable, even though I knew that it was okay to be vulnerable once in a while since everybody has strengths and weaknesses. But, I just didn’t care anymore.

While there was a few people gathered around me, I kept reassuring them that I was okay, but the one person who I definitely didn’t want to check on me was none other than Jeremiah himself, but he checked on me anyway.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay?” Jeremiah asked as he kneeled down beside me to try to help me up, but I kept brushing him off and tried to pretend that I wasn’t hurting, both emotionally and physically. Emotionally from witnessing Jeremiah and Belly almost about to kiss, and physically from losing my balance due to my drunken state and falling to the floor and the palm of my hand landing on broken glass. So I even tried to hide my drunken state from Jeremiah since I didn’t want his pity.

“It’s f-f-fine. I’m…fine, Jer.” I tried to reassure, my voice slurring a bit as I tried to help myself up and stand on my own feet without losing my balance again and without Jeremiah seeing my bleeding hand.

But, he was looking at me that way with concern and worry. I finally managed to stand on my own two feet and then walked away from the crowd, stumbling and limping.

Jeremiah’s POV:

Seeing Y/N like this had me worried. I didn’t know what was going on with her, but she seemed pretty drunk and she looked upset for some reason. She shouldn’t be alone. She could get hurt or end up doing something stupid.

I followed her as she stumbled out of the room, but I lost her in the crowd. I looked around for her until something caught my eye. I saw her outside on the patio, walking away from the beach house and just heading down to the beach, still stumbling and limping.

I walked outside to the patio and follow Y/N down to the beach with the dark night sky in the view. She didn’t look like herself. I was really worried.

“Y/N! Y/N, what are you doing?” I asked her in concern as I caught up with her. Her pupils were dilated, her hair was untidy, she could barely walk, and she even had mascara running down her face so she looked like she had been crying. But why?

“Going to the beach. What do you think I’m doing?” Y/N asked sassily, her voice slurring. She was definitely drunk. I’ve always known her to be a goody-goody girl who would never want to drink, do drugs, or smoke, but she was actually drunk. What changed?

“But, y-you’re drunk. Are you sure you’re okay? And you fell back in there. Are you hurt?” I asked as I stopped her from walking any further towards the water since she’s too intoxicated to go for a swim. When I asked if she was hurt, I looked all over her body for any cuts or bruises or anything, until I spotted her hand bleeding. I took that hand gently and looked at her worriedly. But she immediately yanked her hand away and glared at me for some reason before stumbling to walk further towards the water. I stood in front of her and put my hands on her shoulders, preventing her from doing so.

“Y/N, your hand is bleeding. We need to clean that up and put either some band-aids or gauze on there. Let’s just go back inside, okay?” I said to her calmly, but sternly and worriedly before I put an arm around her shoulders to help her walk back inside the beach house. But she immediately refused and put up a fake smile, and her fake smile looked angry.

“No! No, no, no, no. I’m fine, Jer. You don’t need to help me. Why don’t you go and help Belly instead, hm? I’m sure she’s probably going through a lot after being stuck having to choose between you and your brother. So go ahead, why don’t you go help her and be her shoulder to cry on? I can take care of myself.” Y/N said while slurring before letting out a hiccup at the end of her last sentence. She was being stubborn as hell. And this was also a side of her that I’ve never seen before. Why was she acting this way, especially towards me?

“Y/N, I’m not gonna leave you out here by yourself, especially with your drunken behavior. I’m not gonna let you do something stupid. Like, what were you planning to do out here at the beach? Why were you walking towards the water?” I asked her, trying to be calm and gentle, but I had a bad feeling about Y/N’s intentions that it built worry inside me which caused me to raise my voice a little bit.

“None of your business. What is this, 20 questions or something? Just leave me alone, Jeremiah.” Y/N spat out, still slurring before she walked past me, still stumbling. I watched her about to go into the water, but her legs were shaking as if she could barely stand. I wanted to stop her and go get her, but I wanted to see what she was planning to do first so that I can really know what’s going on. She stopped for a second as the water reached to her knees, then she kept going until it was at her waist and she started to cover her mouth with her hand and then cover her nose with her other hand before she began to dunk her head into the water.

I widened my eyes as it immediately clicked. Y/N was about to kill herself by drowning while drunk! As I finally knew what she was about to do, I immediately took action and rushed into the water, grabbing Y/N by the waist and dragging her out of the water. She started screaming protests at me to let her go, but I couldn’t let her do this. I care about her so much. And…I actually love her, even though a part of me loves Belly. I just don’t know what to do. But after seeing Y/N like this and after us reuniting along with the others, I was actually really glad to see her. She’s a sight for sore eyes. She’s beautiful, she’s kind, caring, warm, honest, sweet, sassy, headstrong, authentic, moral, the voice of reason, and a talented singer with a beautiful voice. She’s even a better singer than I am. I did like her when she was a shy and introverted girl, though, I thought she looked adorable whenever she’d blush. But after we bonded last summer and fell in love, I started to see a more confident and silly side of her and I couldn’t help but love her even more. I miss what Y/N and I had together, even though I love Belly, too, but it’s not really the same with Belly actually. Y/N’s the one I feel something strong and loving for. She’s even tried to be there for me after my mom died, but I was too blind in my own grief and in my own conflicted feelings for Belly to even see it. How could I have been so blind?

Seeing Y/N acting like this was just heartbreaking and shocking to me. I was even more worried about her, especially since she just tried to kill herself by drowning in the ocean while completely drunk.

As I dragged her back to the sand while she was screaming protests at me, I ignored the protests and looked at her in shock, anger, heartbreak, and worry all at once.

“Y/N, what the hell do you think you’re doing? Why are you trying to kill yourself?” I asked her sternly as I held back tears in my eyes since I was trying to be strong for her.

“Why did you just help me?! I told you to go be with Belly!” Y/N snapped while slurring as tears filled her eyes. Why is she bringing up Belly while I’m focusing on Y/N and her safety?

“Y/N, this isn’t about Belly, this is about you. You’re drunk, you look like you’ve been crying, you’re acting like a different person, and you tried to kill yourself! Why are you acting like this, Y/N? Did something happen? Talk to me.” I said to her sternly, but calmly as I tried to keep myself together.

“No, if you wanna go be with Belly, be with her! She’s all yours! I won’t stand in the way! So, just leave me alone!” Y/N snapped as a tear rolls down her cheek, her voice still slurring. Why is she talking about Belly like this? She’s Y/N’s best friend and they’ve always been like sisters. This wasn’t the Y/N I knew and loved.

“Y/N, what are you talking about? What do you mean you won’t stand in the way and that Belly’s all mine? Where’s all this coming from?” I asked her in concern, hoping to get her to talk. But, she immediately exploded the truth about the cause of her problem while slurring.

“I SAW! I saw everything! I saw you and Belly almost kiss back in there before the fight between Milo and Steven broke out!” Y/N shouted through her slurs and through her tears. She even had her eyes either looking down or her eyes closed as if she could barely look at me.

When she admitted that to me, I started to remember when me and Belly talked back in the house during the party, and we talked about the flings I had from last summer and through the whole year after me and Y/N broke up and when Belly got together with Conrad. Then I remembered telling Belly that she’s a better kisser than out of all the girls and guys I’ve kissed, including Y/N. I can’t believe I actually said that because Y/N was a good kisser, too. She really was. And I even remembered during this whole summer when me and her and the rest of the gang were hanging out and Y/N tried some attempts to get my attention since she must’ve had hope for us and I didn’t even realize it. I’ve been ignoring Y/N all summer and I didn’t realize it till now. How could I have been so stupid?!

I felt such a pang of guilt and regret for how I’ve been treating Y/N. I’ve treated her as if she weren’t around and as if she were second and I’ve been putting Belly first. I realized Belly’s not the only one stuck in the middle of a love triangle and between me and my brother, I was even stuck between two girls who matter so much to me. With Belly, it was real and I really loved her, at first it was like a brother and sister relationship, but…ever since I saw her last summer, I was done for. She took my heart with her. But then, at that time, Belly brought Y/N to Cousins for the first time and introduced her as her best friend, and Y/N just took my breath away. I know that I started to feel something for Belly, but when I met Y/N, I knew there was something special about her that was just so magnetic to me. I wanted to know her. And what we had was real and strong, too. And I realized now that it was stronger than what me and Belly had because even if Belly liked me back a bit, it was always gonna be Conrad for her, even if she wouldn’t admit it. It finally hit me.

Y/N’s the one for me.

I looked at her with guilt, regret, and sympathy as I realized what I put her through and what she had to witness tonight. I put a hand on her arm, trying to be as comforting as possible.

“I’m really sorry, Y/N. I-I-I didn’t realize that you…” I was just at a loss for words as I still kept trying to process this.

“That I what?! Huh? That my feelings for you still haven’t faded and that I never stopped loving you?! I’ve tried to get your attention all summer and tried to get you to realize that I’m still here, but you just kept pining for Belly and acting all affectionate to her while you ignored me and acted as if I wasn’t the room, like as if what we had together has been forgotten! And you and her aren’t even dating, yet you act like you are, even though you two are best friends, but why can’t you just admit it to yourself that…that you still love me, too? I’ve seen it in your eyes, they can easily tell what you’re feeling. And when you were around me this summer, I had hope for us! But you just won’t open your eyes and realize what’s right in front of you! I was about to tell you how I felt, and yet I catch you and Belly about to kiss! I just…I just couldn’t bear the sight of that, so I’m actually glad the fight between Milo and Steven broke out and interrupted you and Belly. I know that’s rude to say, but I just can’t pretend that I’m okay anymore! All this time ever since everything that’s happened, I haven’t been okay! And neither have you, and I’ve tried to be there for you and reconnect with you at least, but…you didn’t want anything to do with me and the only person you’d talk to was Belly! I’ve gone through enough hell. And so has Belly, so I’m just gonna go…have a little ‘chat’ with her.” Y/N explained everything to me through her tears and her drunken slurs about the hell she’s been going through ever since me and her broke up and ever since my mom died.

And as she said everything, it was all true and I didn’t even realize it all till now. And what she said struck a chord in me. I’ve been leaving her all alone and I shouldn’t have done that. Well, not anymore. I’m not gonna leave her alone anymore, no matter how much she stubbornly tells me off. I’m gonna make up for my mistakes. Then, as Y/N says the last part, she stumbles as she stands up on her feet, holding her fingers up like quotes. I knew she wasn’t just gonna have chat with Belly, she was gonna confront her. I couldn’t have her do that. Her friendship with Belly has always been so important to her so I couldn’t let her be the one to destroy it by having a confrontation and argument with Belly.

“Y/N, no. Just…Just come back to the house, I’ll let you stay with me, okay?” I offered kindly as I tried to help her and not let her be by herself in her drunken state and in her painful heartbreak.

“No! I don’t need saving, Jer. I’m not some piece of glass who’ll end up breaking. I’m fine. Just let me go.” Y/N protested as she tried to walk away from me and walk back to the house. I wanted to stay with her, but I had to respect her decision if she could handle it. I watched in concern from behind as Y/N kept stumbling up the small wooden board steps that would lead up to the patio of the beach house, her legs started to shake again as if she could barely stand and walk.

She then took another step until she tripped and fell down to her knees, making me immediately rush up to her side and try to help her up and help her walk.

“Y/N, let me help you.” I offered while trying to help her stand, but she pushed me away and kept protesting.

“No! Just leave me alone, Jer! If you don’t walk away right now, I’m gonna have to beat the shit out of you!” Y/N threatened drunkenly while she was holding back tears again and trying to stand up on her own.

“Oh, yeah? Let me see you try. I’m not gonna leave you, no matter how many times you push me away. I’ve pushed you away already, I’m not doing it this time.” I responded with sternness and determination in my voice.

As I challenged her to see her try if she can fight me off and push me away, I knew she didn’t have the guts to do it since I knew she still had love in her heart for me. She sat on her knees while I was kneeling next to her, and she turned around and tried slapping my chest and shoving me away, but her pushes weren’t strong enough. She kept trying and trying through her frustrated grunts as if I were her punching bag, but I didn’t let it affect me. She needed to take it out on anything or anyone. And since she was mad at me, I already took responsibility for how I treated her, so I felt like I deserved to be slapped and pushed since I was actually such an asshole.

Then after a few failed shoves and slight slaps from her, she started to get frustrated and feel defeated since I wasn’t going anywhere. Her shoves and slaps started to weaken and she immediately began to finally let out her tears even more. She broke down sobbing as her attempts to push me away and slap me were weakening and slowing down, and she started to lean her head and body against me while sobbing in defeat, frustration, and heartbreak. I wrapped my arms around her securely and protectively, holding her close to me and never wanting to let go of her.

“Shhh…it’s okay, it’s okay, Y/N. You’re okay, you’re okay, I’m here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere, okay? Shh…” I whispered softly while holding her tightly but gently, trying to comfort her. She still kept crying in my arms, one of my hands rubbing her back and my other hand caressing the back of her head and her hair. I held back tears as the sound of her cries just broke my heart.

“Y-You left me, Jer…! Why are you still here? Why aren’t you leaving me now? You…You love Belly…!” Y/N said through her drunken sobs as if she was expecting me to just walk away from her after I’ve been ignoring her all summer that she was used to being walked away and abandoned. My heart was just absolutely breaking for her even more. She didn’t deserve this at all. How could I do this to her?

“Because…Because I…I-I-I still—” I was about to respond to her that it was because I still loved her, but before I could finish, I felt her body go limp and she was breathing normally and peacefully, her eyes were closed while her face was tear-stained, and she still had mascara running down her face. She was passed out drunk in my arms.

I sighed guiltily and shamefully, and yet in relief that she was finally out cold so that she wouldn’t do anything stupid while drunk. Then, I put a hand under her legs while I put another hand under her back, lifting her up and carrying her bridal style.

I walked back in the beach house while carrying a passed out asleep Y/N through the party in the house, hoping everyone wouldn’t gossip or be concerned about it since I was already taking care of it. And also some of the kids were drunk anyway, so I’m sure some of the other kids didn’t care.

Then, I carried Y/N to my empty bedroom which only had my sleeping bag since me and Conrad’s bitchy aunt Julia removed everything from the house since she was selling it. And I hated that the beach house was being sold. It held too much memories of me and Conrad’s mom. But now that all the furniture is gone, it’s like memories of our mom are gone, too.

I gently laid Y/N on another sleeping bag that I had laying next to mine and I tucked her in, making sure she was comfortable. Then, I stood up and looked at her sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful and beautiful, despite that she was a drunken mess tonight and despite the mascara running down her face, she still looked beautiful to me. Then, I started to hear a girl crying coming from the bedroom next to mine. I leaned against the wall and heard Belly drunkenly crying in her bedroom. She was trying to call her mom, Laurel, for help since she had nowhere else to turn to about the situation with her having to choose between me and Conrad which is causing tension between me and my brother and also she told Laurel about trying to get the house back while everything she’s trying to do to help just keeps going wrong and she needed help. Her cries even broke my heart. A part of me wanted to go in there and hold her. I couldn’t bear to have my best friend upset like this. But, after what Y/N has been through not just tonight but throughout the whole year?

I thought about it for a moment again and I looked over at a sleeping Y/N, and I told myself again that I’m never gonna abandon her again. I’ve been focusing on Belly and putting her first all summer that I’ve been ignoring Y/N, so it’s time to make up for my mistakes and put Y/N first this time.

I slowly walked over to her and laid down in my sleeping bag right next to the sleeping bag that Y/N is sleeping in. I stared at her sleeping face again and after what happened tonight, I can’t get it out of my head. I could’ve lost Y/N tonight and it was my fault. As I looked at her with remorse, guilt, care, and sympathy, it felt as if a magnet was pulling me. I sat up and leaned forward and down, planting a gentle loving kiss on Y/N’s cheek before laying back down, getting ready to go to sleep.

Y/N’s POV:

As I was passed out asleep from being drunk tonight, I had no idea where I was at the moment. But, I opened my eyes very slightly in which my vision was very blurry and the room was dark since it was nighttime and my hearing was ringing and echoey as the party was going on downstairs. All I could see was someone’s sleeping face in front of mine, but I couldn’t tell who it was. Instead, my eyes just closed again as my eyelids just felt too heavy to be open and my head was pounding.

The next morning, I started to feel like crap. I opened my eyes slightly as the ringing in my ears started and then finally faded away. My head was pounding, I felt a bit nauseous, makeup was running down my face, and my hair was untidy. I looked around the room and wondered how I got here. I also noticed a gauze wrapped around one of my hands. I couldn’t even remember a thing about what happened last night. I could only remember that I was dancing and hanging out with a couple of girlfriends, and then I was crying for some reason, and that I took a walk on the beach. But the rest was all just a blur.

As I slowly sat up, I immediately heard a familiar voice next to me.

“Morning, Y/N.” Jeremiah said to me sleepily but with a concerned and sympathetic look on his face. I looked over at him and seeing him lay there next to me startled me and left me in surprise. What was he doing here laying next to me while he ignored me all summer? What the hell happened?

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as my head was still pounding a bit.

“Jeremiah? Wh-What are you doing here? What am I doing in…in your empty bedroom? What happened last night?” I asked nervously and in confusion, my voice slightly slurring since I was hungover, and I needed answers.

“You don’t remember?” Jeremiah asked in concern as he sat up, sitting next to me. I tried to think hard and see if I could remember anything about what happened last night, but I couldn’t remember. I looked over at him and shook my head.

Then, the moment was interrupted when me and Jeremiah heard Belly and her mom Laurel arguing in the room next door, their voices muffled until we heard Belly’s bedroom door open and close. Jeremiah helped me stand up to my feet before we both walked over to the door and opened it, only to see a crying Belly walking past us and past Conrad in the hallway. She looked behind her and glanced at us before continuing to walk away and walk downstairs. I wondered why she was upset. But whatever it was, I was concerned and felt bad for her.

Then Conrad looked over at us and glanced at me before looking at his brother as if he were encouraging him or something. Jeremiah nodded softly at him before taking my hand, closing the door behind us as we’re still in his empty bedroom. He sat us on the sleeping bags as I looked at him in confusion and in concern. He looked like he wanted to tell me something.

“Y/N…are you sure you don’t remember anything about last night?” Jeremiah asked me in concern in which I shook my head slightly before responding.

“All I remember is dancing and laughing while hanging out with a couple of girlfriends and then…I was crying for some reason, and then I took a walk on the beach. And the rest is all just a blur. And now for some reason I ended up here. What happened, Jer?” I explained all I could remember before asking him in concern about what else happened last night.

He took a deep breath while trying to find the right words to explain to me about what else happened last night. He looked as if he didn’t wanna bring up what happened last night since it would bring back the pain and heartbreak.

“Well, um…you, uh…you were pretty drunk. And…you were at the beach to go in the water to…to commit suicide, but I stopped you and asked you what was wrong, and you…admitted that you, um…saw me and Belly…almost kiss. And…you also explained to me the hell you’ve been going through ever since our breakup a few months ago and ever since my mom’s death. And…also that I’ve been ignoring you all the summer since I’ve been focusing a lot on Belly and I was too blind to see that…that you were still in my life and…” Jeremiah explained everything to me before he trailed off and paused as he could barely finish the sentence. His eyes were tearing up as he felt huge remorse and guilt for what he put me through and he wasn’t sure if he could ever forgive himself.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so, very sorry about how I’ve treated you like as if you weren’t in the room. I’m so sorry I ignored you and didn’t put you first and didn’t realize what you were going through. That’s a mistake I won’t make again. I feel like I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but…I realized that…that I also never stopped loving you.” Jeremiah apologized sincerely as a tear rolled down his cheek. As he explained everything, I started to remember a little bit even though it was still a blur. I felt embarrassed that I vented to him about how I’ve been feeling the night before and I didn’t wanna drag him into my problems. But when he said that he also never stopped loving me, I widened my eyes and looked at him in surprise.

“I…Oh my God, I feel so embarrassed for my behavior. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I dragged you into my problems. But…But what about Belly? You love her, don’t you?” I asked, unsure if he was just playing me if a part of him is gonna feel something for Belly and I didn’t want him to choose between me and her. But I was unaware that he already made a decision.

“Yeah, about that, I thought I felt something for her since…last summer when I saw her new glow up and when she first brought you to Cousins for the first time…I thought I was done for. Like, I really felt something for her, but…when I met you and bonded with you and also she’s always gonna love Conrad, even if she won’t admit it to herself…I realized I was lying to myself. I thought I liked her, but…Belly’s not like you, Y/N. You’re irreplaceable. And I’m so sorry that I didn’t see that sooner. Ending things between us was a mistake. I miss what you and I had just as much as you do. And…I don’t know if you can ever forgive me, but I—” Jeremiah said honestly to me as he took my hand. But, I was actually proud of him for finally making his decision. And I just hoped that Belly would soon decide who she truly wants, too, and I hoped it would be Conrad she’d choose because they were actually good together, even though they were opposites.

So, as Jeremiah kept talking, I immediately cut off him off by quickly leaning in and kissing him on the lips, taking him by surprise until he kissed me back. Our kiss was passionate, loving, and tender. His lips just felt so soft and smooth and he was a very good kisser. Then, we pulled away as we gazed in each other’s eyes, his bright blue eyes staring into my Y/EC.

“So…does…does that mean you…forgive me?” Jeremiah asked while he was still in shock from me making the first move and kissing him.

“Of course I forgive you, you lovable doofus.” I responded while smirking and tousling Jeremiah’s golden curls, messing his hair up and making him laugh.

“Hey!” Jeremiah whined playfully through his laughter before flipping his short golden curly hair, making it still look the same as it did before. I giggled before he smirked and tickled me on my waist as revenge from when I untidied his hair.

I squealed and laughed and squirmed around as he tickled me. Then I waved my hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay! I give! I surrender!” I protested through my laughter before Jeremiah stopped tickling me and smirked. Then he leaned down as I was laying down on my back on the sleeping bag and we giggled again before we shared another tender, loving kiss.

I felt my heart beating out of my chest. I was so ecstatic and relieved that I was actually back together with Jeremiah! I felt as if the darkness inside me has been taken away and then the light has risen inside me again.

[ethereal-night-fairy]

Heavenly saviour

This short fic was inspired by this artwork.

What if we had a reverse Knight Au where the reader is female knights similar to valkyries in the Thor movies. And Ghost gets to be the pretty prince who's been unfairly kept and tortured only to be saved by his darling. (Tbh I have no idea who's kidnapped ghost but I just want to see him be saved by a female knight)

I know I said female knight but I wrote this as gender neutral to include everyone who wants to play the saviour for ghost.

Prince!Ghost x GN Knight!reader

Masterlist

Words: 1k

Warnings: MDNI, gore, blood, torture, trauma, love at first sight, pining if you squint.

The dungeon is cold, dark and decrepit. The smell of mold and iron was suffocating. But he had no other choice but to breath it. Thankfully the darkness shrouded his mangeled body. Hiding it from his own view for the time being. But the mutilated images persisted in his mind. Simon heaved the air collapsing in his lungs. They had left him hung and from his ribs, red crimson liquid pooling at his feet. The hook so meanly embedded into his tender flesh. He was no better than a pig hung after slaughter. Though his captors weren't as kind to put him out of his misery. He wouldn't be surprised if it was his father who had sold him to these people for some cheap entertainment. The kingdom was on the brink of collapse anyway, the fucker was probably hoarding as much money as he could. Nor him or his brother could do anything to protect anyone from their fathers wrath. He vowed if he got out of here alive he'd do anything in his power to save his people and family from demise.

His muscles screamed from being pulled and stretched unnaturally. His vision blurry from the pain and stray tears. His pale body scarred beyond recognition. Red hot slashes decorating his supple flesh. His breathing becoming laboured as he whispers his mother's name thinking this was the end.

In his delirium he thinks he hears distant screams followed by shouting. Heavy footsteps by the dozen clambered down like thunder over his head. Their boasterous movement rung out through the manor vibrating down to the dungeon. Had someone come save him? Had God sent him a saviour? Had salvation finally come? If he could scream he would have screamed and shouted until his vocal chords tore but he was fatigued and barely able to keep his head up. If this truly was a hallucination he wishes to see his mother caressing his cheek before he passes. If he truly wasn't forsaken, God would grant him this small request before his last breath.

The screams died down, maybe it was all in his head after all. It was hard to tell if anything was real anymore. Maybe he was already dead and this was his purgatory. All he could see was the congealed blood at his feet. The same blood painted his skin an awful shade of red. He heard heavy footsteps descending the stairs. Ones he would often dread. So he waits patiently for whoever had decided to put him out of his misery.

When the crash comes he desperately opens his eyes to look at the broken entrance to the cellar. Trying to figure out if it was a friend or foe. There you stood in all your glory. The light coming from the lit staircase bounced off your armor creating a celestial glow around you. The tears in his eyes caused the light to distort making it look like the heavens had blessed his knight with golden wings.

He watched you walk towards him with confident steps. Your expression ghastly, a bloody sword clutched in your hand. He couldn't quite make out your features; he was too delirious at this point. But you look like an angel; here to enact divine justice. Everything felt fuzzy and shapeless the closer you got. Like he was floating away.

But that changed the second you touched his mutilated skin. You brought him crashing down to reality. Like Icarus plummeting to his demise, the only difference was you were here to catch him. Every nerve ending springs alive to throw him back in the cycle of his never ending pain. Your words are soft and soothing as you try to get him to settle. He wished he could make out your features properly. Wished he could burn your image into his mind. But fresh tears obstructed his view. Gasps and groans spill from his cut face when you pry away the hook that's lodged between his ribs, taking the brunt of his weight.

You lower his body to the ground as you tell you've got him now. That you'll take care of everything from here. He shows you a smile so kind and sweet you wondered how anyone had the heart to harm him. Though It didn't matter anymore they were all dead now. Laying in pools of their own blood when you had chopped them down like the animals they were. You watch the prince go in and out of consciousness as you tie rags to his most open wounds.

“Captain! King Price has sent word! The castle has been captured! All occupants were killed before the arrival of our army. Reports say the previous King went on a murder rampage before fleeing with a small entourage. Prince Simon wasn't found among the dead bodies!”, one of you soldiers comes down to report to you waiting at the entrance of the cellar. Your body obscuring his view of the person you were tending too. You take the handkerchief off on your arm as you go to tie it around the prince's face making sure not to obstruct his ragged breathing in any way.

“Go now tell the King all noble houses have been dealt with…Prince Simon wasn't found among any of the bodies”, the soldier leaves immediately at your words as you lift the Prince's body in your arms. Ready to carry him to safety. You'll report the truth to the King later. But there was no way you'd let this poor prince suffer any more humiliation than he had already experienced.

His brother and mother didn't deserve to die the way they did. And you'd do your utmost to make sure you'll protect the prince, like he had protected you when you were only but a mere peasant. His smile never changed, not even after all the torment he faced. Even though they had tried to carve it out of him; no bruise or scar could ever take away from his radiance.

This was a new era for him. One in which you plan to be his sword. To be his shield, to be his…just his. He could use you however he sees fit. You will stand by him regardless; come hell or high water.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[batneko]

A "wicked enchantress" is running around inflicting people with fairy-tale-inspired curses. Peach's castle gets hit with a Sleeping Beauty curse, and the usual solution doesn't work so Mario and Luigi go chasing down the enchantress.

They catch up easily enough, but she blasts Mario with a spell that turns him into a wolf in a red hoodie. Luigi has just enough time to think "wait a minute, Little Red Riding Hood isn't about a curse," before he's zapped with a "Cinderella" curse. He's stuck in a green ballgown and masquerade mask that won't come off.

Of course, that doesn't bother him much, and turning Mario into a wolf only gave him natural weapons, so they kick the enchantress's butt for a few rounds before she runs away.

Meanwhile, Bowser's castle was hit with a Beauty and the Beast curse... while Bowser wasn't home, meaning Junior is now stuck as a beast and honestly having a great time. The servants are pretty unhappy though and it'll be a pain having Junior shed all over everything (and privately Bowser feels bad he wasn't there to protect everyone, plus kissing Junior's newly-fluffy head didn't break the curse which makes Bowser terrified that he doesn't fully love his son and really is as selfish as people say) so he sets out to find whoever did this and rip them apart.

Soon thereafter he runs into what appears to be a princess with very cool taste in pets, and can't resist turning on the charm.

Luigi would have cleared up the misunderstanding right away, except Bowser is so bad at being charming that it loops around to actually being charming. Telling him who he is after flirting back would just make things awkward and maybe get Luigi set on fire. And Mario, despite lacking thumbs or proper vocal chords, is making it extremely clear that he doesn't approve of Bowser and "Princess Emerald" getting too close. Better to cooperate until they find the enchantress and high-tail it out of there as soon as she's defeated.

Unfortunately it turns out the curse still follows Cinderella rules, so at midnight the ballgown disappears and Bowser finds out after all. He's just as pissed as Luigi was afraid he'd be. There's some fire breath tossed around. But he's more embarrassed than anything else, and the fact that he's the only one without a curse (and that the "dog" is actually Mario) cheers him up enough that he decides to stick it out as part of the team.

He doesn't admit that he'd really started to like Princess Emerald in the afternoon they spent together. She was nice. She listened to him. She laughed at his jokes. And he can admit he's got a thing for big blue eyes. The fact that all those traits are the same whether Luigi's in a dress or in overalls is not one he wants to think about.

(The curse affects Luigi from noon to midnight so he still gets mornings to look like himself. Honestly it wouldn't be bad at all except a ballgown isn't very practical and Luigi's mildly offended that the curse also shaves him.)

So they go on, Bowser tries not to flirt, Luigi tries not to fall for his flirting, they both fail and wolf!Mario suffers.

Eventually they do catch up with the enchantress (probably after a lot of other curse-induced fairy tale shenanigans) and try to fight her. The gang is winning when she suddenly blasts Bowser with something that seems to kill him outright. Luigi, devastated, kisses him before getting up to keep fighting.

The enchantress sees this and goes, "Eewww!"

Turns out she's a little girl who got her hands on a powerful magic artifact. True Love's Kiss didn't break any of the curses because she's seven and kissing's gross! Now that they know she's a child (and that Bowser is just sleeping like Snow White) Mario and Luigi are reluctant to fight at full strength. Instead Luigi distracts her with his pretty pretty princess accessories, so Mario can dash in with wolf speed and steal the artifact.

Bowser is extremely confused when he wakes up, saying something about a weird dream he had, but all the curses are broken and everyone can go home. Problem solved. Definitely no lingering feelings and awkward secrets.

Definitely nobody is going to keep thinking about that teary goodbye kiss when Luigi thought Bowser was dead...

[thebellearchives]

For your prompt event, may i request fluff prompt 12 for sukuna? 👉👈

𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑

~ ryomen sukuna ; jujutsu kaisen

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : there’s something so intriguing about the curse that lives inside your best friend, unfortunately for you the king of curses might’ve picked up on your interest

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff? more like sukuna being a smug flirty bastard !!

‧₊˚ a / n : so i wasn’t sure if i wanted to give sukuna a body of his own but this is the first time i write for him and i really wanted to try and describe them as different people despite sharing the same body, so Yuuji is mentioned a couple of times ~

Toge ver. || Sukuna ver. || Gojo ver.

prompt list

In the past few days there was nothing that Yuuji and you hadn’t been doing together. In fact, to say 'past few days' was most definitely an understatement, it was more like months. He was your best friend after all, so there weren’t many things about him that would surprise you anymore. Except Sukuna.

He wouldn’t come out often, but when he did there was this electric sensation of thrill running through your skin. He was something else for sure. He’d make you nervous, curious, he’d have you at the edge of your seat. And that was exactly what was going on in that exact moment. You and your best friend had decided to watch a movie that wasn’t going to be at the cinema for much longer, so when you walked in with your popcorn and drinks there was no one else there.

The movie had started out pretty interesting, the main character was likeable, and that classic event that would take him out of his comfort zone was pretty cool too, but along the way it had just gotten a bit monotone. Or so you though, because next to you your pink haired friend had been quiet for a long time. When you finally glanced at him the black tattoo-like marks on his smooth skin let you know it was Sukuna the one who was insanely focused on the movie.

After noticing that, you were not able to focus on the movie anymore. You’d shift on your seat, sip on your drink more often that you normally would. Crossing your legs, uncrossing them instantly, leaning into the opposite arm rest, sitting normally again. You tried to fix your gaze on the screen, you really did, but somehow your eyes just wouldn’t stay put and you’d end up admiring Sukuna. You couldn’t help but study the way his whole demeanor changed, he was now laid back on his seat and with his knees angled outwards, as opposed to Yuuji who’d always keep his legs straight. His head tilted to the right, resting on his fist and a slight frown. He was comfortable in his body, his muscles were firm instead of relaxed, giving him a confident aura.

But your little study session came to an end when Sukuna caught you staring at him.

“You keep staring at me instead of watching the film” his lips curled up in a malicious smile “What's up?”

What’s up? You wish you knew.

“Nothing” you cleared your throat and tried to sit straight once again “I didn’t think you’d be into this kind of movies.”

A deep, resonant and derisive laugh left his throat.

“You’re a terrible liar, did you know that?”

The truth was that laugh of his had actually turned your insides upside down, your face flushed with a deep crimson colour.

“What was i supposed to reply, then?”

“The truth of course, like a normal human. Although I suppose humans do lie a lot.” he offered you a charming grin, but you rolled you eyes and took another sip from your drink.

“And what is that truth then, king of curses?”

“Just say you think I’m hot, sweetheart.”

“What?” you could’ve sworn your heart somehow had gotten tangled in between your vocal chords, almost making you choke on your drink.

This time his laughter was more vibrant, it was clear he was enjoying making fun of you. Did he think you were some kind of toy to use for amusement?

“You’re gonna deny it?” you frowned, swallowing nervously. You remained silent, but he insisted, leaning towards you and encouraging you with teasing words “go on, say no.”

“No.”

“Yeah, like I said, terrible liar.” he smirked, playfully stroking your cheek with the back of his index.

[wain-fleets]

CONTAGIOUS.

miles decides to take care of a sickly lyle — someone decides to watch !

( miles quaritch x lyle wainfleet x fem! recom!reader )

SMUT WARNING! NSFW, MDNI. ( fluff to extra stuff .. ) p in v, fingering, threesome, double penetration, oral, anal, rough play, pet names, praising, etc. very nasty stuff. satiate my thirst.

miles sighed heavily, lightly tossing about the bottle of water in his hands. it crinkled and sloshed, making a faint noise that wasn't near loud enough to break through fike's snores (who had managed to fall asleep on the floor, next to the fridge after having a bit too much to drink). his bare feet pattered against the cold tile flooring as he made his way past the sleeping recom for the second time, and down the dimly lit hall to his own room.

or he wished it were his own. maybe then he'd actually catch some shuteye, instead of listening to lyle's constant chattering. still, he didn't want to think about where he'd be without the annoying fuck.

the door let out a small hiss as it slid open automatically upon registering his presence. *fancy shit.* and as soon as he stepped inside, he was met with the familiar sight of lyle lazing about in the bottom bunk. normally, lyle would sleep up top, but he could hardly get himself up there.

he was sick as a dog— supposedly.

now, miles wasn't sure why, but a part of him did take pity on the man. even if it was rather thin at 11 at night, his patience was there. and lyle sounded like a dog with a squeaker lodged in its throat. he needed water.

miles allowed his weight to press in the mattress at lyle's side. the metal frame groaned just a bit before settling, as lyle rolled over to face him.

"here." miles grunted out, offering the water to lyle, who kept himself tucked beneath his blankets. lyle could see he was shivering, but he had a relieved look on his face as he accepted the drink. he popped the lid off, bringing the spout to his lips and gulping eagerly. until nothing but a few sips remained in the bottom.

"ugh.. thanks.." he managed, "didn't expect you to be back in here tonight. youre gonna get sick, yknow."

"i figure that, but i think bein' sick beats sleepin' in there with mansk n' prager."

"they get on your nerves?"

miles shook his head, his tail thumping against the mattress as his palm rubbed at his forehead. "no .."

lyle wasn't sure what to think of the dry reply, but he didn't push it. he knew that miles wasnt always the best at expressing himself, whether it be in a positive way or a not so positive one. miles refused to show any signs of weakness, even when he probably should.

lyle could be the same way at times, but right now? there was no point in even trying to fight it. he felt like shit, and he wasn't afraid to show it.

a pained groan slipped from his blue lips as his head lolled back into his pillow, and a whine rattled his vocal chords. he squeezed his eyes shut, sniffling and sucking in rapid, shallow breaths in an attempt to clear his airways. this caught miles' attention, once more.

"here, sit up." the colonel demanded, and as much as lyle wanted to refuse, it was built-in now to *listen to miles*. he was his boss, after all. pretty much. lyle didn't mind.

"then help." lyle huffed at him, and miles couldn't help an eyeroll. their hands locked and lyle sat himself up with a small wheeze deep in his chest, keeping his hand clutched to miles' so he wouldn't fall back.

his ears twitched, pinning back against his head at the unfamiliar touch he felt. miles placed his hand against lyle's lower back, gently pushing in on it as a nudge of guidance.

"straighten your back— deep breaths, now." even though lyle was still tense from what he was seeing (as it was rather baffling: miles was never this gentle), he couldn't help but melt into it. lyle was sick, he felt cold. and miles was warm- his hands were so warm.

he complied to the simple command, rolling his shoulders a bit as he straightened his posture, and sucked in deeply. his nose was stuffy, so the task wasn't the easiest, but after a few tries he felt all the ick flowing downwards, and he could breathe again.

miles watched lyle take in deep chugs of oxygen, his eyes lingering over his lips before settling on his nose. lyle resembled rudolph, only far less happy than that stupid fucking deer. but a whole lot cuter, nonetheless.

"there you go.." miles murmured, looking down at his hand, which he held in place for lyle to continue using as support. he felt his heart skip a beat at the contact. the two men had always had a thing for each other, but it never went further than a few drunken makeout sessions.

but the interest was there. the care was there. and, even, a love that went beyond something friendly. on the outside they looked to be brothers in arms, but behind closed doors? more like very, very not related guys in dick to ass. at least that's what they wanted it to be. but neither had the balls to fess up.

as miles lost himself in thoughts of the man sitting just next to him, his eyes tracked downwards. over the corporal's bare chest, down to the blanket that hung loosely over his lap. the sight made his breath hitch, his palms growing sweaty, to which he wiped them off on the thighs of his sweatpants.

lyle, who was still catching his breath, noticed this. and he felt his own panic settling into his gut. it bubbled painfully in his belly, burning in his abdomen. did miles notice how hard he was?

lyle adjusted the blanket over his lap, trying to more properly hide the grown bulge beneath it to no avail. plus, it was too late. miles had noticed. yeah, he saw that. cant hide from him.

lyle's tail thumped under the covers, a clear indicator of his anxiety, and his cheeks flushed. miles watched his every move. like a hound trained on a rabbit.

"hmh.. it's okay," miles started, finding the confidence within himself to finally speak. "i know my touch is 'bout as good as it gets." he drawled, that southern accent thick with an almost sadistic tinge. he liked it. he liked seeing lyle all worked up and uncomfortable in his presence.

it made him feel in charge. strong. and incredibly fucking horny. he wasn't even going to attempt to hide his own erection-- it was huge and it was happening.

his pants tightened as his cock strained against them, making him hiss softly behind his canines. it hurt. so good.

lyle chuckled nervously, scratching at the back of his neck. he was embarrassed, and unsure what to say. was miles toying with him? making fun of him? was he upset with him? lyle couldnt tell. until he noticed the clear indication in miles' pants.

"sorry.."

"whaddya got to apologize for?"

their bellies danced with butterflies, a feeling neither of them thought possible anymore. lyle shrugged.

and without thinking, before he even knew what he was doing, miles reached out. his hand cupped between lyle's hidden thighs, his palm slightly compressing the mound in the other man's boxers.

lyle's whole body tensed, his breathing growing more faint than it already was. he grabbed miles' bicep, and the colonel stilled his movements.

"w.. want me to stop?" miles whispered, starting to retract his hand. but lyle stopped him.

the corporal grabbed his wrist, pushing his palm further onto his crotch and bucking his hips into it. a mewl left his lips; a whine of desperation and yearning. he needed to be touched.

at this, now having consent, miles couldn't hold back anymore. he ripped the covers from the bed, carelessly tossing them aside before returning his hand to lyle's boxers. he massaged the man's length through the fabric, earning himself a whimper of gratitude. but he knew lyle needed more.

he guided lyle to lean back against the wall, using one hand to grip the recom's braid. he roughly snatched it back, forcing lyle's chin to tilt upward to expose his neck. his other hand worked lyle's boxers down around his thighs, just enough to free his cock.

"fuck.. that's pretty." miles groaned at the new sight. lyle was big. the colonel had already known this, but actually seeing it was a whole new experience. his hand wrapped around lyle, starting to pump him slowly, working him over.

lyle's moans and curses of ecstasy were intoxicating to his superior. everything felt so right. and he wasn't stopping for shit.

he sank his fangs into lyle's neck, still gripping his braid to hold him in place while delivering deliberate, slow strokes to his dick.

lyle groaned, his hands searching until they found the tie to miles' sweatpants, and he pulled them loose. miles stopped him.

"nah, baby.. let me take care of ya. you're the sick one, ain't ya?" miles inquired, his hot breath fanning over the blue skin of the other male's neck.

lyle's lip curled upward in a small, lazy smirk. "well yeah, but i still wanna." his voice was a bit nasally, and playful towards his boss. with that undeniable hunger.

miles wanted nothing more than to pin him down and take him, but he had to restrain himself. lyle was still sick, and he feared that if he pushed too hard, he'd exhaust the man or put him off. so he kept himself light.

"a'right.. well, if ya wanna, i aint stoppin' ya. but you best remember," his grip on the recom's queue tightened, making lyle feel a tingling sensation throughout his whole frame. every nerve jolting with excitement. normally this would hurt, but damn he was too heated to even register that at the moment. "you go and get yourself hurt, it aint gonna be my fault.. understood?"

"uh huh--"

miles bared his teeth, glaring down into lyle's wide, yellow eyes.

"use your damn words." he seethed. he hadn't meant to sound so cruel, no. but the overwhelming strain between his legs was painful, and he needed relief. or he'd completely lose his mind. he was teetering between sane and falling off the deep end.

lyle was just too fucking cute; too hot. those sounds, those eyes. his tail waggling back and forth and those ears giving away his true emotions.

"yes sir." lyle responded back to him properly this time, and for a split second he resembled a soldier once again instead of a man weakened in another's arms. but just like ice under the desert sun, it was gone before it even stood a chance. and they were both okay with that.

"yeah.. good boy." miles sneered, freeing lyle's hair and allowing the man to proceed. he sat back on his knees slightly, watching as lyle tugged his sweatpants down.

briefly, his eyes landed on lyle's cock again. it twitched and pulsed, begging for contact again. a bead of precum gathered on its slit, and miles swiped it up with his thumb. promptly licking the digit clean.

lyle was awestruck momentarily, unsure of what had just happened until it clicked. miles had tasted him, and god did he want to return the favor. he hugged his lower lip between his canines as he slowly peeled down the colonel's boxers.

a pleased sigh exhaled from miles' lips as his cock was finally freed from its confines. lyle took note of the small wet patch on the plaid fabric he'd just removed. the small details. miles was starved for him, just as lyle was.

miles was notably bigger than lyle, even though they were both pretty huge. these new bodies were something else, that was for sure. covered in stripes and freckles in even the most intimate places.

lyle breathed a tiny sigh of wonderment as he reached his hand out, carefully wrapping it around the colonel's length. he didn't stroke it, and instead gave it a gentle squeeze, taking his time to just feel it. he had no idea how he'd managed to make this fellow marine so damn hard.

he leaned down, pushing up the hem of miles' tshirt with his free hand as the other guided the man's cock towards his mouth, and he used his tongue to clean the small mess gathered atop it. miles gritted his teeth, his fingers digging into lyle's shoulders.

"fuck.." he whispered, pursing his lips as he suppressed a moan. but he wasn't able to suppress his hands, and his claws dug into lyle's neck. he shoved the corporal back onto the bed, pinning him down by his throat.

miles was so swift in his movements that it dazed lyle briefly, and he blinked rapidly up at the larger recom. he felt the pressure on his jugular, but he wasnt afraid. if anything, this only excited him further. he watched as miles pushed himself up to hover above him, trapping lyle's waist between his knees after fully removing his sweatpants and ripping his tshirt off.

lyle sucked in a deep breath of air through his mouth as his throat was released. he grunted as miles shoved his shoulders down, forcing lyle's face towards his cock. lyle was trapped, his hands holding miles' thighs as he gazed up at the colonel.

miles was practically sitting on his chest, but he made sure not to apply his full weight. and though he was trying to fight off his primal side, he was losing.

"suck my fuckin' cock.." he demanded through his teeth, using one hand to cradle lyle's head towards his groin.

he couldn't hold back a moan this time, as lyle's lips parted and he took miles into his mouth.

"ah, fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck.." miles cursed, bucking his hips forward. lyle gagged at the knock to the back of his throat, but he didn't pull away and endured, instead starting to slowly bob his head.

he'd never sucked a dick before, but he could tell he was doing well by the blissful groans and grunts from his companion. he closed his eyes, his brows furrowed as he tried to deepen the hold his lips had on the colonel.

miles tightened his jaw, his abdomen sucking inward as he leaned his head back. he was trying his damndest to keep quiet, but it was hardly working. the profanity escaping his lips was filthy.

his gaze dropped back down to lyle, watching the man work him with his mouth. the sight ignited something inside the colonel, and the urge to cum was too damn strong.

without warning, miles grabbed lyle's head, placing his palms on either side of it firmly to hold it in place. he started rocking his hips, back and forth. slowly, gradually speeding up until he was pounding poor lyle's face.

"ah, fuck! baby.. oh shit." the colonel panted with each thrust, his blood pumping so quickly that a ringing filled his ears, drowning out the sounds of lyle's own moans and grunts.

this was the first thing you saw when you stopped in the doorway. your footsteps halted, your eyes wide in shock and the pointed ears on your head perked in what was a mix of confusion and curiosity. followed by a pang of fear. what the hell was going on?

you felt your hands starting to tremble, your heart rate soaring to dangerous heights.

it was almost instantaneous. as soon as you realized what was going on, heat flooded through you, centering to your abdomen. it felt as if your guts were knotting up, a deliciously painful feeling. anxiety paired with the overwhelming need to get fucked.

you squeezed your thighs together, with a faint gasp. the two men didn't pick up on this small sound, but they did pick up your scent. well, miles did. lyle couldn't breathe through his nose for shit.

that smell.

they both stopped moving. miles released lyle's head, allowing the recom to finally breathe again.

"what?" lyle croaked out, as miles twisted slightly, tilting his head to see you past his shoulder.

you considered trying to hide, but you knew it was hopeless. you were caught, and you weren't sure whether to feel negatively about that or not.

but the way the two looked at you, you realized maybe it wasnt so bad. even if embarrassing and shameful.

"uh, sorry. ill just-" you started, but miles cut you off.

"whats that smell?" did you stink? oh god- "hell that's good.. that you, sweet pea?"

a shock waved through you. was he speaking to you? only then did you finally understand why you'd been caught. these new bodies. they could smell every bit of your desire. and lyle picked up on it when he sat up.

their mouths flooded with drool. they needed you. whatever was getting passed around, it was contagious, and there was no controlling it.

"heyy.. y/n," lyle dragged, licking his lips. "wanna join?" it almost sounded like he was joking, teasing you. and you almost laughed. gladly you stopped it, seeing he was being dead serious.

but how were you supposed to answer that question? yes, no? it wouldn't be right to join in, would it? you could only stand, your lips parted as you tried to come to a conclusion. you were taking too long, though.

miles lifted a hand, waving two fingers towards himself in a gesture for you to come over.

"wait, i-"

"nah, c'mere. i can smell ya.. i know you wanna."

you paused at his words. and caved in. your legs felt weak as you shut the door behind yourself and neared the bunk. miles stood, pulling lyle up with him. they stood in front of you, their bodies on full display.

and what a damn good display it was.

toned chests, two huge cocks eager for one another and now for you.

"are you guys sure-" you were cut off. again. lyle snatched your hips, growling lowly as he roughly tripped you up and pinned you to the mattress. any signs of his ailment had subsided, and he had a feral look in his eyes. as did miles.

they both admired you from above, eyeing you like two hungry wolves would a freshly cut flank from the juiciest doe.

"finally found our lil culprit, wainfleet." miles huffed out, reaching down to push the tank top clothing your body above your stomach. his hand glided over your warm abdomen, working gentle circles into it in a soft massage.

"yeah.. shit, it was her the whole time." the corporal clicked, his hand grabbing your knee. he slid his palm upwards, pushing his fingers under the leg of your shorts.

they noticed the quizzical look in your eyes.

"huh. darlin'," miles crooned, leaning over you. "we've been smellin' your fine ass for months. couldnt figure out what it was, till now. just 'bout all the guys been lookin' for you."

"yeah. y'know, you could've just said you wanted us." lyle shrugged at his own words, and you gasped as you felt his fingers brush against the panties beneath your shorts. a grin overtook his lips as he felt the damp cloth. "damn, you're soakin'.."

his middle finger slipped under the small garment, caressing your folds with a tenderness that took your breath away. you couldn't hold in a small squeak, just as miles shoved your tank top up the rest of the way. your breasts fell from your shirt, and both the men seemed to purr at the sight.

as miles leaned down, taking a nipple into his mouth to suckle at it eagerly, his other hand kneaded the opposite breast. the sight made lyle want to release all over the both of you right then and there, but he held back, and instead plunged his finger deep inside your pussy.

he felt your walls, pushing his finger into that spot that made your toes curl and your breath stop.

"fuck, colonel, she's tight.."

miles released your nipple with a pop. "mmhmm.. guess we oughta get her ready then."

those words made your whole body give up. if you wanted to fight it before, you sure as hell couldn't now. you were in this, and dammit, you were not leaving until you felt quenched. until they did, too. they'd make sure of that.

lyle pulled his hand from your shorts, leaving you empty. he brought it to his lips, and miles sat up to join him in aweing at how wet you were. they snickered to themselves, before they both leaned in and licked lyle's hand clean.

their tongues pressed together, and they shared a sweet kiss before pulling back to share a knowing look. you tasted good.

focusing their attention back on you, you found your shorts being yanked off by miles. lyle leaned down, pushing your knees wide apart so they could get a good look at those underwear.

"you need it bad, dontcha?" lyle mocked, dropping down and gripping your thighs as he buried his face in your panties, licking and sucking your clit through them.

"oh god, lyle-" you panted, and he whimpered in response.

this was heaven for him. he had tasted miles, and now he was tasting you. in truth, he'd been pining for your fine ass since day one. the slut.

his mouth engulfed your whole mound through the fabric, and he kept sucking the moisture from it. as you moaned and whined, you noticed miles sat at your side, stroking himself at a steady pace as he admired the view.

"that feel good, darlin'?" the colonel questioned, using his free hand to brush your hair back out of your face. "mm.. good girl, keep moanin' for me. not too loud, now.."

miles praised you, and you quivered under lyle's ministrations. he pulled from your pussy, only momentarily, just enough time to rip your panties off and toss them at miles.

a squeal rattled your throat as lyle delved back into your heat, his nails digging into your thighs to leave behind faint scratches as he lapped away at your soaked folds. now unprotected, it felt so much better. his tongue teased your clit, and he took it between his lips to give it a hard suckle that made you clutch the bedsheets. your knuckles paled as you let out a loud moan, only for a large hand to cover your mouth.

miles muffled your sounds of pleasure with his palm, shushing you quietly.

"shh, now. dont want anybody else walkin' in here. dont think you could take more than two of us, sweet pea." he reminded, and you made an effort to be more quiet. though it was hard.

"yeah, good girl.. look'it you. damn." he breathed, leaning over you to suck at your breast once more. he kept a hand over your mouth, the other gripping your panties as he grinded his cock against them. "mmh.. mhm, fuck." he released your nipple to speak again, "so damn pretty." he whispered, peppering kisses down your belly until he reached lyle.

lyle panted as he pulled back temporarily, his mouth and chin covered in your juices. he gazed up at miles, who leaned in to lick his face clean, before they both focused on your pussy.

miles released your mouth, using his now free hand to spread your pussy lips.

"pretty fuckin' pussy, colonel." lyle breathed, "tastes damn good too.. you gotta try this."

they were passing you back and forth, treating you like a shared dish for the both of them to dine upon.

"guys-"

"hush." they both ordered you sternly, their voices mixing into one. one that you simply listened to.

"you relax and enjoy yourself, buttercup." lyle smacked his lips, pushing himself up to sit aside you as miles dipped to replace him between your legs.

you whined up at lyle, whimpering as miles' tongue shoved inside your wetness. lyle gave you a sweet smile, dipping his head to give you a kiss. you could taste yourself on his lips.

he broke the kiss to tilt your head back, leaning down to sink his teeth into your neck, marking you. you moaned, and miles groaned along with you.

"so fuckin' good." the colonel panted, pushing your knees up to your chest as he feasted away at your swollen folds. the change in position made you all the more heated, and your hands clung to lyle.

"oh fuck.. im gonna- i need to-"

"yeah, yeah, good girl. you gonna cum for us? huh? gonna cum all over his face?" lyle whispered in your ear, and you nodded hastily.

"uh huh, uh huh-" you agreed, and miles sped up his tongue, abusing your sensitive bud with it again and again. "uh huh!"

"yeah? yeah?" lyle nodded with you, keeping his eyes locked with yours. "good girl. yeah, cum for me baby. cum for us. good girl.."

his praise sent you over the edge, and just as you reached your peak, he smashed his lips to yours to silence the loud moan that would come with it. miles grinned, lapping up the remaining juices pooled in front of his mouth.

he helped you come down from your high as lyle kissed you repeatedly, the corporal murmuring soft 'good jobs' to you.

miles pulled back when you were fully spent, but they weren't done.

they needed to cum, too.

they stared down at you, with those hungry eyes again. and though you were weak, you wanted to please them just as much as they had you. you bit your lip, pushing yourself to lay on your side.

lyle sat on his knees behind you, his cock rubbing against your bare ass as miles took the front. they grabbed one of your legs, lifting it and forcing your knee to your shoulder.

"fuck.. can i fuck your ass?" lyle suddenly blurted, not even realizing what he'd said. he made it sound so casual, as if asking for a basic need. and to him, it was. he needed to be inside that tight ass of yours. he couldn't take it anymore.

"but you're so.. big." you muttered uncertainly back at him, and he pouted.

"ill be gentle, baby.." he assured you, and your tail flicked out, your ears pinning against your hair as you considered it.

miles was already positioning himself at your front entrance, starting to ease himself inside you carefully. you covered your mouth, and without even considering the consequences you just nodded to lyle.

"thank fuck." the corporal chirped, coating his hand in saliva and spreading it about his cock and your asshole.

your breath caught. they were going in at the same time? what the hell did you just agree to?

before you could say anything, you felt your ass being stretched. slowly, painfully. it already hurt enough on its own, but paired with miles' cock deep inside your pussy as well, it was excruciating.

he held you steady by your waist, his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched as he refrained from just taking off without letting you get used to him.

but it felt so good at the same time.

lyle pushed in as far as he could reach, going at a snail's pace just for you. he stopped once he bottomed out, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"fuck. so fucking tight. fuck." he cursed.

miles whined along with him, also holding himself deep inside you. you felt him against your cervix, and you could swear your guts were flipped upside down now.

they savored the feeling of your plush walls hugging their cocks so tightly, squeezing and clenching around their lengths as if begging them to stay planted there. lyle peppered your shoulder in tender kisses all the while, murmuring soft comforting words of reassurance.

once you felt you were ready, even with faint tears in your eyes, you gave them the go ahead. and when they found a rhythm, they couldn't hold back.

as lyle would pull back, miles would push in.

as miles pulled back, lyle would shove back in again.

their hips rocked into yours ruthlessly, and fortunately the pain had mostly diminished. replaced with a pleasure from the full, hot feeling in your belly.

"yeah, fuck.. good girl."

"so fuckin' tight. shit."

"you feel so good baby."

"milkin' my fuckin' cock. fuck yeah."

"that's a good girl. shit. take it."

"take my fuckin' cock."

filthy, filthy, filthy.

you could only lay there, a moaning mess as they used your holes.

"fuck, im gonna cum!" lyle whimpered, his hips snapping forward again.

"ah, dammit.." miles hissed.

both of the men grew sloppy in their movements, their breathing growing heavier and heavier, their groans and grunts and whimpers more frequent.

until they both shoved deep inside at once, releasing all they had, painting your walls white with their loads.

they caught their breath atop you, before they gave in and just laid down on either side of you, their cocks still within your depths.

lyle hugged your waist from behind, burrowing his face in your hair. as miles rested in front of you, kissing your forehead and wiping away your tears as he massaged your hip.

lyle reached around to rub your abdomen, trying to provide some more comfort.

"you okay..?" he whispered.

"yeah, she's alright." miles whispered the answer for you, but the two of you doubted lyle heard as he was already fast asleep.

miles stared into your eyes with a gentle gaze now, simply admiring the features that made up you. you were so beautiful. how had he not noticed before? he bit back any further speaking.

"..can you sleep?" he whispered through lyle's faint snoring.

you nodded sleepily, your eyelids already hanging heavy.

he kissed your nose, "sleep."

that simple order was all you needed to doze off. still stuffed completely by both the men you were trapped between.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

the next morning, mansk peeked his head in. prager was near behind him, wanting to see the condition of lyle. they hadn't expected to find three of their teammates in the room.

all naked, under one blanket. tossing and turning from the snotty noses they were all experiencing.

"wh-" fike poked his head in, his eyes widened in shock. as always. he had a mad hangover, and he thought for a second that he was still drunk as hell. "huh?!"

miles groaned in irritation, snatching up a half empty water bottle and hurling it straight at the other three recoms. they all jumped and fled the room, closing the door as they retreated in a fit of snickers and chuckles.

they were never going to let that down.