#anyway if you even read all this maybe send me a nice message

[theemptyballroom]

x

[siredtosturniolos]

First of all I’m sorry if this is the wrong place to send requests in. I’m new to tumblr so I have no clue how to use this platform 😭anyways I have a request I’m begging on hands and knees for a chris fic where reader is 18 and he’s 23. reader is a influencer (u can make up where they met) ENEMIES TO LOVERS KINDA and SMUTTTTTTT with praising (lots of praising and pet names) u can make up the whole story it should just be based off these things thank uuuu

Enemies

Paring: Chris Sturniolo x reader 

Summary: You had socially climbed the ladder to fame and gotten your very own spot on the Vidcon lineup. Freshly 18 meant you were fully able to go on your own, and meet some of your favorite content creators yourself. And Chris. You didn’t particularly like him, as he had been rude to you ever since you met him. You confront him and things turn a different direction than you thought.

Warnings: Smut! Praising, pet names, enemies to lovers(kinda? Maybe this means part 2?). Read at your own risk and mdni! (First pov) 

Authors note: thank you for requesting this! I hope you like it. <3

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Walking the halls of VidCon the day before the event took place really helped me ground myself. I couldn’t believe I was here, let alone someone thousands of fans wanted to meet. I started a YouTube channel in October of 2021, and it’s only gone up from there. Posting various forms of content such as vlogs, get ready with me, makeup tutorials, and even a couple cooking videos. 

I just hit 5 million subscribers, so on top of doing VidCon I was also hosting my own meet and greet the day after. I was hoping to make some connections and see if anyone would want to come celebrate this milestone with me. 

Even though I have been successful for a while now, I had just moved to LA last month. I’ve been to a party here and there, making a few friends along the way. I take a seat on a bench outside to soak up some sun, and so I can really reflect on what my life has become. 

Jake, Johnnie, and Tara are supposed to be here today as well and I couldn’t be more thankful. They had introduced me to so many of their friends in the last few weeks, most of them being welcoming.

Larray and I had clicked instantly and had hung out a few times, but he wasn’t set to be here this weekend. He had already made plans with other friends so he couldn’t come keep me company. He promised me that Nick Sturniolo would be down to let me hangout with him until I was comfortable, and I was super appreciative of that. 

Chris Sturniolo though? Not so much. I’ll never forget the way his eyes raked down my body, stopping at my chest for a moment before he looked back up at my face. 

“Hey baby, I don’t think we’ve met before?” 

I rolled my eyes at how corny he was, slightly drunk and incredibly stupid. Once he realized he wasn’t getting in my pants he had completely ignored me. I also met Nick and Matt later on, and they were absolute sweethearts. 

Ever since that night any time a fan would bring me up in a live stream of his, he’d ask them to either stop talking, or call me boring and move on to the next question. I had reached out to him asking him to stop, as his fanbase had jumped to my socials and started going insane. 

Every time I messaged him, he’d read it and not respond. Nick would occasionally bring me up in videos and it was clear as day Chris didn’t like me, and his fans made it known. Clipping it and tagging me thousands of times nearly made me delete TikTok all together. 

I had come to find out Chris was actually really nice to everyone, just not me. I’m not quite sure what I could’ve done to make him be so rude to me, but it’s not like I see him all the time. Maybe I’ll have a chance to speak to him in person, and make him really hear me out. 

“Y/N!” A voice called out to me, making me jump. I watched as Jake walked up to me, “Tara has been looking for you, yapping about getting ready for tonight.” He explains, shrugging his shoulders. 

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Tonight?” I ask, standing from the bench and letting him lead me to Tara. “They’re hosting a party tonight for us at the hotel apparently. Something to kick off the event? Fuck if I know.” Jake laughed. 

The next few hours flew by and before I knew it, Tara and I were letting loose and dancing to Just Dance by Lady Gaga. I had a few drinks in me, just enough to stop worrying about everything. Tara on the other hand, is gonna have a hangover from hell tomorrow. 

“I have to pee!” I yell to Tara as the song fades out, she nods and gives me two thumbs up before I begin to head towards the bathroom just outside the ballroom the party was in. 

Just as I’m about to enter I hear snickering behind me, making me turn around. I come face to face with none other than Chris. His eyes were burning into me, as he slowly approached, a stupid smirk on his face. 

“What are you laughing about?” I ask him, letting out a deep sigh.

He shakes his head, “You look ridiculous.” He states, like it’s a known fact. I glance down at my outfit, a simple black tube top and cargo camo pants. My black and white Nike’s were clean and uncreased, so what the hell was he talking about? 

I look back up to him as his 5’8 frame slightly towers over my own, “What did I do to make you hate me so much?” I calmly asked him, as surprise flooded his features. Apparently he wasn’t expecting me to call him out in person. 

He stood there for a second, staying silent as he didn't know what to say, “Oh so you just hate me for no reason? Nice.” I scoff, before turning around to enter the bathroom. I was stopped by a gentle grip on my arm, making me look over my shoulder at Chris. 

“Look, I don’t really know why I act like this, okay?” He sighs, dropping his hand as I turn to face him again, “Ever since I met you at that party, I just can’t get you off my mind.” He explains, taking a step closer to me. Now I can smell his cologne and I hate to admit that it’s doing something to me. 

“Don’t make fun of me.” He continues, making my eyebrow raise in curiosity, “When we locked eyes that night it felt different to me. It felt like more than just two people meeting for the first time.” He says quietly, looking me in my eyes so I knew he wasn’t lying, “It scared the shit out of me.” 

I start to smile slightly, making him roll his eyes, “Are you telling me you fell in love with me at first sight?” I tease him, making him throw his head back and groan. “Just stop being rude Chris, we could’ve been something this whole time you know?” I tell him, watching as his eyes meet my lips before looking away quickly. 

“Wanna make up for lost time?” He suggests, making me glance around the hallway we were in. There were a few people scattered around, but none of them were paying attention to us. I look up at him to see that sexy smirk on his lips, “Fuck it.” I shrug, before I drag him into the bathroom with me. I lock the door before I’m pushed up against it, Chris pressing kisses to my cheeks before going down my neck. 

I let out a soft moan, lifting my hands to slide them into Chris’ hair and tugging slightly as he found my sweet spot, “No marks please.” I plead him, feeling his tongue lather the area before he moves lower. His kisses get harsher the lower he gets, looking up at me slightly before he returns to his full height and slams his lips on mine. 

I moan into the kiss, the tension between us coming to a peak, “Jump.” He mumbles into my lips, wrapping his arms around my waist. I use his shoulders for stability as I jump and wrap my legs around his waist. He pulls back so he can walk me to the sink, and I waste no time trailing kisses down his neck. Chris sets me down on the counter and spreads my legs so he can stand in between them. 

“Gonna make you feel so good baby.” He rasps, tilting his head back as I continue my assault on his neck. I make my way back up to his lips, taking him in for a split second before we kiss again. His hair is disheveled, his lips swollen from our kissing, and his eyes. They’re full of lust and determination, and I can’t help but try to clench my thighs. 

Chris smirks at me, playing with my top, “Can I take this off pretty girl?” He asks, to which I rapidly nod. Chris’ fingers slip underneath the fabric of my shirt briefly, before he snaps the band against my chest making me gasp. He wastes no time as he quickly takes it off, setting it somewhere behind me. His hands instantly cup my breasts, his lips slotted back onto mine. 

His large palms squeeze my breasts, his thumbs brushing over my nipples making me let out a whine. I tug at his shirt and he pulls away to take it off, “Fucking incredible.” He mutters, letting his eyes fall onto my chest as I pant. He leans down, taking my nipple into his mouth, and my hand flies to the back of his head, arching my chest into his chest. 

“Fuck Chris.”  I moan, my hips bucking as that’s where I really want him. He switches sides, letting his hand trail down my body to pop open my pants, pulling away to look at me. “I’m about to ruin you, sweetheart.” He lowly speaks, making me bite my lip as I begin to help him remove my pants. I kicked off my shoes and Chris played with the band of my underwear. 

“Please Chris.” I beg him, already tired of his teasing. 

“Good girls say what they want.” He replies, using one hand to tease me through my damp underwear, the other dancing across my inner thighs. 

I let out a huff, “Please touch me.” I plead, reaching down to move his hand exactly where I want him, “Make me feel good.” 

Chris smirks at me, “Good girl.” I gasp as his hand suddenly slips lower, finally giving my body what it’s been craving for. His fingers collect my wetness, spreading it down to my opening, making my back arch with need. I open my mouth to beg him again but I’m cut off by him slipping a finger inside, his thumb connecting with my pulsating clit. 

“Chris!” I gasp, his fingers work mercilessly, the coil in my stomach already building. I let out whines and moans, already feeling fuzzy as he continues to work my body closer to my climax. 

“Look at me, baby.” Chris demands, making my eyes flutter open, “I want you to look at me as I make you cum.” He continues, working another finger inside my core. My jaw drops in a silent moan as his eyes bore into mine. I feel myself begin to clench around his fingers as he hits my sweet spot over and over. 

“There it is.” He smirks down at me, and half of me wants to tell him to stop, that the pleasure is too much. The other half of me wants to be greedy, and welcome the waves of ecstasy as they flow through my body. 

“Feels so good.” I whine out, watching the way Chris glances down at his fingers as they disappear inside of me, “So close.” I moan, feeling the coil twisting tighter and tighter.  

“Yeah? Gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” He asks me, and that's all it takes. The coil snaps and I fight to keep my eyes open as I release all over his fingers. Chris lets out a groan, mumbling praises left and right as I come down from my high. 

I’m still in a daze when he helps me off the counter and spins me around to face the mirror. He lifts his hand to my neck, tugging my body to be flush with his. I gasp as I feel his hard dick pressing against my ass, I didn’t even notice he took off his pants. 

“Gonna watch me while I fuck you, baby?” He asks, meeting my eyes in the mirror. I nod rapidly, “You look away once and I stop, got it?” Chris speaks, as he helps me bend forward and kicks my legs apart further for him. 

“Yes sir.” I reply, a small smirk on my lips as I back my ass further into him, making Chris grin. “Keep that up and you won’t make it to the event tomorrow.” 

He takes hold of his dick, running his head through my folds, bumping my clit making me whine. He pumps himself a few times before he’s teasing my entrance. I pout up at his reflection, arching my back even more to show how impatient I was. He takes that as a sign to slowly thrust into me, making my jaw drop at the burn from the stretch. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He groans, one hand resting on my hip, the other coming to hold onto my shoulder. He waits a moment before he begins thrusting, my body shaking each time he fills me up. “Feels so good.” Chris moans out, his hand leaving my hip to deliver a harsh smack to my ass, rubbing the now red area soothingly afterwards. 

At this point, I can’t even form words and of course Chris took notice, “Got my baby all fucked out already.” He states, smacking my ass again. “Can’t wait to wreck this pussy.” He grunts out, his thrusts getting quicker and harder. 

My mouth hangs open in a silent moan, my eyes never leaving his. “Such a good girl, keeping your eyes on mine.” I feel the coil in my stomach reappear, and I can’t help but try to squirm away from Chris as the pleasure builds, “Don’t you fucking run away from me.” Chris spits, lowering both arms to grip my waist as he plows into me.

“T-Too much!” I finally whine out, clenching on him as his head nudges that sweet spot within my core. 

Chris shakes his head, “You can take it baby.” He lets out a rather loud moan before his thrusts start to get sloppy, “Be a good girl and take it.” He grunts out, sliding a hand to my front, quickly finding my clit and rubbing fast circles. 

My legs begin to shake, “I’m-” I’m cut off by a rather loud moan as Chris angles his hips upwards, bringing me even more pleasure. “Me too baby, fuck.” Chris moans, lowering his Chin to his chest as he watches himself slide in and out of me. 

“Cum with me.” He demands, my legs begin to shake as he meets my eyes as the coil within me finally snaps. I can feel myself pushing and pulling him in as I cum, and the feeling of his shooting out makes it all the more pleasurable. Chris finally halts his movements, staying buried inside. 

He gently pulls out, both of us wincing. He quickly cleans himself up and slides his pants back on before he turns to me. He rubs my cheek lovingly before he helps me clean up and get redressed. I quickly check my makeup and fix it, before turning to face him. 

“You’re staying with me tonight.” He states, holding out his hand for me to take. I take it with a smile on my face. 

“I planned on it.”

[mewguca]

I was thinking about how people should talk more about the parallels between hunter and moon

This is a rather self-indulgent piece...I find it very comforting to be able to express my emotions through a media I love like this...that's probably my favorite thing about art. Being able to express something...being able to connect emotionally with the viewer...is really nice

textless versions and a long rambling under the cut

Hunter is often viewed as a very strong and agile slugcat...they are the "hard mode" after all. Hunter probably has a lot of physical prowess. But, with the rot...they become weaker. At its worst, they struggle to do basic movements...until they eventually die. Of course, in my version of events...Hunter's rot is cured, but it still leaves lasting side-effects. Their scars go beyond simple battle wounds...there's a sort of pervasive sickliness throughout their whole body. Treatment helps, of course...but

You know how that is, right...? You have to keep getting treatments. You have to work for your recovery. And you have to work to prevent your body from getting weaker again...Or y'know, that's how it is if you've ever had any reoccurring or chronic health issues. It's...a struggle I feel like doesn't get expressed very often...so I wanted to express it through my version of Hunter.

Even though Moon isn't anywhere near as organic, I feel like she can relate to similar struggles. She used to be like a god...a powerful supercomputer who could do just about anything! But...she couldn't bring herself to do the one thing that'd preserve her own wellbeing. She delays and delays on forcing Pebbles to stop with her administrative powers until it is far too late...

Maybe she thought she could handle it. That everything would be fine if she just waited for Pebbles to understand...or waited for him to stop. If she just kept sending messages, eventually he would listen.

But he didn't. Things didn't get better. And by the time she finally took action against it, it was too late...her forced communications did nothing but make her brother furious with her...because she "ruined everything." She could only accept her imminent collapse...

When she woke up again, she had only a few neurons left to run on. Her umbilical was broken, her overseers were out of her control, and even the roof over her head was incomplete.

She couldn't do most of the things she used to. She could hardly move. She could hardly even think. She could barely remember who or what she used to be...and she didn't have great ability to remember the present, either.

It must have been really painful...but she keeps doing what she can anyways. She reads the pearls you bring her. She tells you about the items you bring. She gives you information as best as she can. She is kind and hospitable. She encourages you. She could be so bitter and depressed...so resentful and cruel...but she isn't. I'm sure she has plenty of bitterness and resentment, plenty of hopelessness and great sadness, plenty of suffering...

But when she sees the little slugcat, she's still kind to it. She is grateful for what she has. She is happy to see you. And she keeps on living.

She's so strong...she is a huge inspiration for me.

So, I think if anyone could relate to Hunter's struggle...Moon is probably the closest. I think people should talk about their relationship more...after all, Hunter is her "little savior." I think they would be wonderfully close. They could support each other in their struggles to keep living, even if their bodies fight against them. I also think their friendship is just cute! Great potential for angst, for fluff, for comfort...idk. everything, really. It would be wonderful for them to reunite when they're both in better shape...as creatives, we can make a versions of events where that happens. It's really wonderful to me...for a work of art to inspire others to create art because of it.

This game means a lot to me...and it means a lot to me that it resonates so much with other people as well. So, thank you...

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt. 14

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

(This chapter takes place a little before last chapter of Nat’s pov)

The taste of the dessert was still simmering on your tongue as you walked home from your date. The thought that Nat had maybe seen you hadn’t left your brain since you got that note. The one you were still desperately clutching in your hand, rereading it over and over again and imagining Nat writing it. Her handwriting fits her personality so much. You wondered if she would be open to the idea of becoming pen pals. 

The second you’d read the note you’d scrambled out of your seat to catch the waiter and ask if she was still there but he only shook his head and gave you a pitying smile.

“Can you at least tell me what she looked like?” You didn’t know if you were breaking some unspoken rule of whatever game you were playing with Nat but you had to know. More than anything you had to know.

The waiter picked up a few glasses and plates and put them on his tray before turning to you

“I couldn’t see much, she was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. You’d think she was a celebrity or something. Is she… your stalker?” 

Before he could get the wrong idea you quickly shook your head no at his accusation

“She’s… a friend?” you don’t know why it sounded so much like a question, both of you had agreed you were beyond strangers now but… what you felt towards Nat didn’t always feel like friendship. It felt like those moments when time stood still;

Like when you feel a cool breeze on the hottest day of the summer,

Or when you snuggle under warm blankets in the winter,

Or settling down somewhere with a cup of something warm and a good book.

She felt like all the little moments you loved about life combined into a person.

Your mother would probably call you naive for feeling so strongly about someone you’d never even met but she’d technically already approved of Nat anyway.

“Is there nothing you can remember about her?” you tried to keep up with the guy as he walked to pick up after another table

You felt a few expensive-looking people look your way but you didn’t pay them any mind.

The waiter huffed and stopped in his tracks, turning to you with the patience only a person who works in customer service could have.

“Look- a bit of her hair was sticking out from under her hoodie, it seemed- brownish? Maybe more of an auburn? I don’t really know I wasn’t paying attention. But if you really need to know so badly we have a tech guy coming up in a few weeks, I could have him send you the alley surveillance footage?” You could tell this guy was over you asking a million questions so you nodded your head enthusiastically. Glad to have at least that much. As you scribbled down your email you thought of your number neighbor with brownish-auburn hair. Somehow, you felt like you already knew her hair would be darker.

~

As you were rounding the corner onto your block your phone pinged with a notification and you were surprised to see Nat’s contact on your screen.

‘It’s about time’ you thought to yourself as you realized this was the first time Nat had texted you first, completely unprompted.

You swiped open the message with a satisfied smile on your face.

         Nat🔪:

Nat🔪:

Enjoy your dinner?

Y/n🍦:

It was okay.

The dessert was the best part.

Nat🔪:

Oh yeah?

Y/n🍦:

Definitely.

Putting your phone away, you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the flat, and locked the door again before making a B-line for your fridge. You snatched an old grocery list off and replaced it with the napkin. It settled nicely under your baguette-shaped magnet.

You started at the note for a few minutes, unsure how to go about addressing what had transpired.

If you even should address it.

What if it made her run again? You wouldn’t be able to handle her silence like last time. You’d grown too attached. 

Shaking your head you decide to just go for it, rip the band-aid right off. If she disappeared again then it was her loss.

But if she was confident enough to text you first this time then maybe things would be different?

         Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

You were there

The reply took a few seconds and you tried your best to channel your inner monk for some patience

Nat🔪:

I stopped by

Y/n🍦:

You were there.

Again the three little typing bubbles taunted you and you wanted to pull them out of your phone and throw them in a blender but you knew it just meant she was second-guessing every answer she could give you. You’d gotten used to her texting habits.

Nat🔪:

…

I was.

Y/n🍦:

Did you… see me?

Nat🔪:

No.

You don’t know why you breathe out a sigh of relief. Part of you thinks it’s because you want your first meeting to be mutual. To see each other for the first time at the same time. So you can know what she thinks of you by just the look in her eyes.

At least if she had seen you and she was lying you could know that she thought you were pretty enough to continue texting.

Nat🔪:

I never even stepped foot in the restaurant

That much you knew from the waiter, but it still felt good that she was telling you. Like she was validating your unspecified want of seeing each other for the first time together. It always felt like she just knew things about you without you ever telling her. Maybe she was a long-distance mind reader. If that were the case she should really get hired by The Avengers.

The thought makes you huff out a light laugh and reminds you of when the two of you first started talking. It felt like so long ago now. You’d come a long way since then.

Y/n🍦:

Thank you.

It was delicious

It made my night honestly

Nat🔪:

Anytime, Y/n.

I’m glad.

You didn’t know what Nat was doing on her side of the city but you wondered if maybe she was grinning at her screen like a fool the same way you were.

You changed the topic of your conversation with Nat as you began getting ready for bed and not once did it occur to you that you hadn’t thought of your actual date the entire night.

Pt 15

A/n: Y/n learns a little about what Nat looks like!!

I meant it when I said slow burn guys but don't worry this story won't be too long!!~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts

[changbinsboiledegg]

Hello! I really like your works and want to request, if you are okay with it, skz reaction, when their s/o is.. have money, so she can spoil them? For example.. after a hard day she gift them some big bouquet or take to eat out. Like.. yk usually it's reader being spoiled like a princess, but we do it reverse hehe

EEEE thank you! I’m glad you like them :) Of course I’m okay with this. I love this idea because while being spoiled sounds nice, there are some people who like spoiling their S/O so I love the idea of reverse, like yes pamper them.

GN! Reader X SKZ

Warnings: Mentions of stress but overall fluff. Reader is rich as hell.

Note: I’m not a gold digger but the reader gives me butterflies, pls sugar daddy/mommy/they me. No but I really liked this idea even though I’m not rich, I still channeled my inner ‘rich bitch’ for this :P . Anyways, as always, if no one told you today, ilyy 🫶

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

You had to find out from the others that he was having a hard day. They were worried about him and now, so were you.

Luckily, you knew a way to help. Even if a bit over the top to others, to you, nothing was too over the top if it was for Chan.

“Hey, did you send the caterers?”

You read his message with a smile, glad to hear they found him without issue.

“Yes. Eat well, my love.”

Chan sent you a picture of all of the food you had catered to him. It was enough to feed him, the boys, and probably the entire building. Not that you saw a problem with that.

“Come eat with me?”

Lee Know

You planned this in private for weeks before their comeback. You knew they’d earn a win, the new album was just too good not to.

You watched the stage confidently, seeing Minho’s smile as their win was announced.

Minho glanced down at you in the audience, his smile remaining as you winked at him.

Once they had left the building, you made your way to where Minho was with the guys and saw they were marveling at the sky.

“What’s going on?” You asked, coming up beside your boyfriend. Minho looked down at you, shaking his head with a smirk. “Don’t act like this isn’t your doing.”

He looked back up at the sky were airplanes were spelling out “Congrats on the win, SKZ.” In clouds of smoke.

Changbin

After all of the hard work he does, you figured he was long overdue of a day of relaxation. You already let the others know that Changbin and be ‘out of commission’ for the entire day, unbeknownst to Changbin, who was only told to keep his schedule clear for this day.

You blind folded him the entire drive to the most luxurious and private spa in the area.

“It smells nice. Where are we?” Changbin asked, gripping your shoulders as he followed your lead. You checked in and turned to remove his blind fold.

“Ah! You didn’t!” Changbin was happy, completely ready to relax— and with you too. You smiled at him, knowing he deserved this.

“I did. You need to destress. Can’t have my Binnie frazzled, now can I?” You took his hand and lead him after the staff, who had begun to lead you to your designated room.

Hyunjin

It pained you to see your boyfriend look so exhausted and stressed most days and you wanted nothing more than for him to just unwind and smile more.

“Oh this looks nice.” Hyunjin showed you a nice— but very much expensive jacket with soft fabric and pretty designs.

“Do you want it?” You asked, lightly feeling the fabric. Hyunjin stared at it a second longer.

“Maybe I’ll get it later.” Hyunjin said. You knew this was his way of saying yes when he wanted something deep down.

So you bought it, along with everything else he looked at, admired, and said ‘maybe later’.

By the end of the day, Hyunjin had clothes, jewelry and other miscellaneous items that cost more than a new car.

Han

Jisung always wore the designer clothes and jewelry you bought him, even going viral for how good he looked wearing them.

“People are speculating whether I’m dating a fashion designer.” Jisung chuckled, reading comments on his phone.

You smirked, looking up from your phone. “That’s pretty flattering.”

Jisung laughed a little louder, reading a few more comments before putting his phone down and moving closer to you, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“You have good taste. Are you sure you’re not living a double life?” He asked, mindlessly watching you scroll through your phone.

“It words be easier to get you the exclusives if I were.” You mumbled, putting your phone down. “… Which reminds me.”

Jisung perked up, watching as you pulled out a gift box. He opened it eagerly, seeing a set of rings.

“For your comeback.” You added, watching him try them on. Jisung chuckled, admiring the rings, “almost thought you were proposing ten times.”

Felix

Felix was pulled out of his sleep to a knock on his door in the dorms. Then another knock, followed by Chan’s voice.

“You have a delivery!”

“I’m coming!” Felix grumbled, opening the door to be greeted by a huge bouquet of flowers. He rubbed his eyes before taking the bouquet from Chan and immediately finding the note attached.

“Sorry I’m not able to give these to you myself, I’ll be out of town for the weekend! Here’s beautiful flowers for my sunshine. I hope you have a great day today and I love you.”

His thumb absentmindedly traced over your name signed on the note and smiled widely.

“Ah, typical.” Felix commented under his breath, feeling his heart swell as he reread your words.

Seungmin

Ever since the first gift he’s received from you, he’s made it his mission to gift you back something just as or even more elaborate and you, none the wiser, gift him back, unintentionally entering his ‘gift war’.

It took you months before you realized you were in this war with him. The only reason you found out was because Seungmin accidentally sent you a picture of what he was getting you next, intending to tell Jeongin.

“You know I’m going to win, right?” Seungmin mischievously smiled at you as you both had a gift from each other in front of each other.

“If you win, it’s because I let you.” You started to peel the wrapping paper off of the box. Seungmin followed your actions, scoffing at your statement.

When he opened his gift, he froze in awe, “woah.”

You smiled at his reaction, getting to the gift he got you. You widened your eyes, one hand covering your mouth.

“Woah…”

I.N

You made sure Jeongin’s favorite restaurant was empty, renting it out for just the two of you after the hard week he had.

Jeongin sat across from you, excited and hungry as he plated his meal, the two of you eating.

“Mmm… thank you, this is just as good as I remember!” Jeongin’s taste buds were in heaven from the savory flavors.

“You’re welcome. I’m just glad to see you enjoying yourself.” You ate your own meal, content knowing that the hardships of the past week seemed to melt away.

“You’re the best.” Jeongin eagerly ate, his words sounding muffled from the food in his mouth. You laughed a little, “slow down. Don’t choke!”

[poraphia]

Halloooo ^^ ..

I read a lot of ur stories and now Im in love with fictions :3 (might need therapy cuz of it but nvm that)

U an amazing writer <3

(Im pretty new to Tumblr so extremely sorry if this ends up where it shouldnt be or smth like that lol)

But anywaaay , Can I pls request a Wilbur Soot angst fic :D ?

Im going thru THAT phase rn so anything would be awsome really ..

Maybe a fight (unintentionally) breaks out between Wilby and reader and Wilby accidentally raises his voice and reader gets scared ? I know its a cheesy story and people might'a written before but I barely find Wilbur angst fics anymore :(((

Anyway , Thank u so much .. U dont have to write any of this if ur uncomfortable .. Hope ur doing okay :> .. Take care n' bye :D

"You’re Being Too Loud."

➵ PAIRING! cc!stressed!wilbur x stressed!reader

➵ CREATING! 10.12.23 | 1444 words

➵ CONTAINING! angst to comfort, wilbur is ignoring reader, reader lowkey has attachment issues, reader sensitive to loud noises, wilbs is overworked

➵ SAYING! hiii @toastyliltoasts41 welcome to tumblr! sorry for the late late response but i hope you enjoy :) personally going thru this myself especially w so much work ive been doing recently and also im noise sensitive (literally walk around with noise canceling headphones all the time). thank u for all the nice words!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

I slipped off my shoes and placed them near the doorstep. My socks glided against the furnished planks as I slid to our shared office. I dragged my backpack behind me, feeling the weight of my laptop, notebooks, and textbooks. Once I made it to the room, I placed my bag on the chair and unpacked all my belongings onto my desk.

Today was too exhausting, and the one thing I dreaded doing right now was to open my laptop and be faced with more work. Instead of taking my laptop with me, I grabbed my phone and dragged myself out of the office and into the bedroom.

After changing into my loungewear, I snuggled myself into silk sheets, shivering a little from the cold fabric wrapping around my body. Ignoring the chill, I held up my phone with both of my hands and swiped open the messaging app to text my boyfriend. I glanced at the past messages, realizing that Wil hasn’t responded to any of my messages from this afternoon. The last time he texted was this morning when was telling me what time he would come home. Sighing, I typed in another message in hopes that this time he would respond.

“Hey, I’m home now. Too tired to cook food today. Let’s order something when you get home? <3”

I clicked send before clicking off my phone and placing it on the nightstand. My eyes fluttered close, and slowly, I drifted off to sleep.

I woke to the sound of footsteps clicking against the ground. With my hands I pushed my body up to examine the noise. From the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a familiar tall figure headed toward the office. A small smile formed on my face as I carefully got out of bed.

My bare freet pressed against the cream colored carpet. I wandered around the hallway before finding the office door slightly ajar. Through the crack I saw Wil hunched over his computer. His sweater’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his fingers hastily clicked against his keyboard. Quietly, I approached him from behind, throwing my arms around his shoulders and hugging him close.

Wil quietly hummed in response. I titled my head, pecking his cheek, but he didn’t react and instead his eyes stayed glue to his screen. My eyebrows slightly furrowed, but nonetheless, I continued hugging him.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I mumbled in a croaky voice.

“Hey,” he replied blankly.

“Did you see my texts earlier today?”

“Uh huh,” He said absently. “I saw the message after I ate though. Sorry.”

I felt my chest tighten a little, hurting at his absence. All I wanted in the moment was a hug and a conversation about each other’s day, but instead, he was absorbed in his work and couldn’t even make the effort to look at me.

“Wil, can we talk?” I asked.

He slightly shook his head. “No, not right now, honey. This video has to be out by tomorrow and one of our editors hasn’t been feeling well so I took up the work.” He explained briefly.

“But you’re already busy working at the studio…” I mumbled.

“I know, but I can finish this up by tonight. Just give me some time, please.” He requested. My heart skipped a little, feeling like a dog that had been put aside for a brand new puppy.

“Wil, you haven’t talked to me all day. Could we at least just have dinner together?” I nearly pleaded.

“I already said I just ate, (y/n).” Wil said rather sternly. “Please can I just finish my work?”

“But I want to spend time with you.” I said, speaking up a little bit. I unwrapped my hands away from him and stepped back a little. He turned his chair a little to face me with one of his hands still on the keyboard. He looked up at me, a stressed but furrowed expression on his face. I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging my own chest.

“I want to spend time with you but you’re basically prioritizing this work over me.” I said again. “I understand that sometimes you have too much work. I understand that. But we haven’t been spending time with each other for the past few days and it’s driving me crazy. I just want to relax with you, Wil.” I bit the insides of my cheek. Wil, in turn, sighed and rubbed his nosebridge.

“I’m not prioritizing work over you, (y/n), I’ve just been busy lately and this argument is just stressing me out even more.” His words were spat out like venom.

“Which is why I’m asking that we just spend time together! This isn’t just for me, but it’s for you too.” I threw my hands up, frustrated. “Wilbur, we can relax together! You’re acting like this isn’t stressing me out either!”

Wil got up from his seat now. His tall figure nearly towered over me, making me slightly cower. “I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING RELAX RIGHT NOW, (Y/N)! I HAVE SHIT TO DO!”

I stepped back, nearly stumbling. Without realizing, tears were running down my burning hot cheeks. The air went cold and I felt this hallowing emptiness surrounding me. A ringing was bouncing in my eardrums and goosebumps ran through my arms and legs. He looked down at me, eyes wide as if he just realized what words escaped his lips. Before he could say a word, I walked out of the office and back into bed, slamming the door behind me.

I jumped into the mattress and buried my face deep under the sheets. I quietly sobbed into the fabric, not caring for the tears darkening the silk. It didn’t take but a couple minutes later to hear the creaking of the door and soft footsteps approaching the bed. I lied still under the covers as I felt the mattress dip from a newfound weight.

Wil sat there for a while. His knee shook a little, making a tiny thumping noise against the floor. I was turned away from him with his lower back lightly pressing against the heel of my foot.

“(y/n)..?” He softly called out for me. “Are you awake..?”

I shifted a little, moving my foot away from him to let him know I was listening. He sighed with his leg coming to a stop.

“(y/n), I’m sorry. I—I’ve just been really stressed, but that gives me no right to start yelling at you. And me being really busy has been taking away the time with you.” He paused a little bit, presumably licking his lips. I still didn’t have the courage to move. Instead I laid still, not daring to move. “I’m really sorry, (y/n).” He apologized again.

A deep sigh huffed from my nostrils before I sat up, letting the sheets cascade off my body. He turned his head to look at me, his feet still planted on the ground. I looked into his eyes, seeing the pained looked deep in those irises.

“Y-You know I don’t like loud noises.” I croaked out, my voice cracking with my words. He slowly nodded, bringing his legs up on the bed to fully face me. “And I really don’t like it when you yell. Please, I really just wanted to spend time together.”

“And we will spend time together.” He grabbed my hands and cradled them in his. “I’ll message Elodie right now if she could finish the work. But right now, it’s going to be me and you together, okay? We can maybe catch up on our show and I’ll order some food for you, okay?” He reassured, rubbing his thumb against the back of my hand. “Maybe I’ll steal some fries from you every once in a while.”

I giggled a little. “Noooo! Get your own food!” I whined, lightly pushing his shoulder. He chuckled in response before wrapping his arms around me, pulling me close to his chest. I wrapped my arms around his torso in response, breathing in his scent.

“I just missed you, Wil, you know that…” I softly whispered. He nodded, running his fingers through my hair.

“I missed you too. I promise I do.” He whispered back. His voice was low and deep but he made sure to maintain his volume. It was soothing, something I could fall asleep to,

and most importantly,

it wasn’t loud.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

a / n ~ hope you enjoyeddd notes of all kind are super duper appreciated! if you wanna be in a taglist or an anon my inbox is always freee :D ALSO SURPRISE!! TWO ONESHOTS IN ONE DAY I AM ON A ROLLLL

[bloatedandalone04]

The End of Love

➪the one where you break up but still love each other. (requested-ish)

Warnings: angst, fluff, break ups, swearing, gaslighting

Inspired by the song 'The End of Love' by Florence + The Machine

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

The buildings intimated you in the best way. 

You look up and have to squint, even though you were wearing sunglasses. The sun was high and had no clouds whatsoever to hide behind, making the heat shine down on you. 

It didn’t bother you, though. 

How could you be bothered when you had the perfect guy next to you? The same guy who had been next to you since junior year of high school, as well as the guy who promised you that university wouldn’t change anything between the two of you. Oh, how you wished that were true. You wished you knew how bad things would end. Maybe if you did, you could’ve saved yourself from the heartbreak.

But that was later.

Right now, you were in awe. 

“I knew it was going to be big, but I never imagined New York being this massive,” you say, barely able to catch your breath. “How will we find the time to explore everything before school starts?” 

“We have all summer,” Ethan says as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. The two of you continue to walk down one of the many streets that made up the big city, your eyes looking everywhere in hopes to take everything in all at once. “And even when school starts back up again, we’ll still find time to explore together. We’re going to be fine.”

“You promise?” You ask and tilt your head up to look at him.

Ethan laughed and nodded, leaning down to kiss you quickly. “I promise,”

-

You were three seconds away from pulling your hair out. 

You knew education after high school would be hard but you weren’t aware that it would be this fucking brutal. You were tired and stressed and annoyed and about this close to throwing your textbooks at Sam and Tara as they once again got into another argument. 

Gripping your pen tighter, your mind goes back to Sam’s apologetic smile and her kind words of, “I’m sorry we were so loud earlier. We’ll be more quiet next time, Tara just frustrates me sometimes,” and then fast forward to an hour later when they began bickering again. 

You tried to focus your attention on your school work, but your mind was somewhere else completely. You look over at your phone and debate whether or not to pick it up and send Ethan another text. He probably wouldn’t answer it, anyway, as the last three you’ve sent him had been left on delivered. 

Six whole hours had gone by since you sent the first one, another three since the second and just one since the last. He had to be busy, right? Maybe he was trying to get some work done, too, and turned his phone off or something. 

Still, it would’ve been nice to receive just one text saying that he couldn’t talk right now and that he’d call you later. 

Instead of unlocking your phone when you reach for it, you toss it even further away from you on the bed in hopes the distance would make it so you didn’t feel the need to constantly keep checking it. 

You would just keep disappointing yourself if you were to open your messages and see the same stupid words. 

Delivered an hour ago. Three hours ago. Six hours ago. 

Seriously, what the fuck was he doing that was so important he couldn’t find the time to send a quick text? 

God, when did you turn into this kind of girlfriend? The one who drives herself crazy when she doesn’t receive a text back in a reasonable amount of time? Ethan never gave you a reason not to trust him, so why were you getting so annoyed at his lack of responses? 

You take a deep breath before going back to the notes you took in class today. Though, as soon as you began reading, your phone went off and you grabbed it within seconds. 

Eth <3: hey, sorry for not answering :/ i’ve been stuck in lectures all day and left my phone at the apartment. i just got home now

It was embarrassing how quickly you began typing a response. 

No worries, glad you’re alive

Eth <3: haha

Your brows furrowed at his unusual short response and your thumbs started moving again without a second thought. 

What are you doing now? Want to come save me from The Bickersons? The sisters aren’t getting along at all today

After hitting send, you set your phone back down and go back to reading over your notes, relieved at the fact that you were able to get into contact with your boyfriend.

During the middle of your mini study session, your phone went off again and you were surprised to see that it had been a full forty five minutes since you sent the last text.

Eth <3: sorry, babe, i can’t tonight. i’m going to that frat party with chad 

Eth <3: maybe we can hang out tomorrow?

Disappointment settled in your chest as you read over the two messages again, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Hang out? It seemed weird for your boyfriend to suggest hanging out when he usually always just showed up or sent you a text that let you know he was on the way. There was never any planning, just doing. 

You shake off the weird feeling that bubbled in your chest and answer his text.

That’s okay, I just miss you :) Tomorrow works for me

Eth <3: miss you too <3

You held back a scoff and tossed your phone to the end of your bed. Ethan’s short replies were unusual and made a sinking feeling form in your heart at the very real change that is currently happening in your relationship. 

-

The next day came, and once again you found yourself unable to reach Ethan.

Hey, when did you want to hang out?

You cringed when you sent that text as you never referred to spending time with him as ‘hanging out’.

Half an hour went by before you sent a second text, and another hour before a third. 

Did you want to check out that breakfast place we were talking about?

Are you even awake yet?

You assumed he wasn’t when another hour passed with radio silence on his end. Believing that was better than the alternative; he was ignoring you.

It was hard to believe that a whole twelve hours went by before your phone went off. 

Eth <3: i’m so sorry, i forgot we had plans. i’ve been studying all day for that test on friday so i wasn’t near my phone 

Plans? That’s news to you. 

As far as you knew, Ethan asked you to hang out then completely ghosted you. 

It was then when you found yourself slipping away and not bothering to reach out first anymore. It was a sad realisation that you two would go days without speaking or seeing each other and the only time he would talk to you was when you started a conversation or asked to spend a day with him. 

The effort he was putting in was non-existent and you quickly found yourself putting in less and less effort as well. 

You didn’t know what happened, but you knew when it happened. 

You two were so happy during the summer, but now that school had started again it was as if you were dating a ghost. Though, really thinking about it,  you were sure a ghost would respond to you more than Ethan does at this point.

-

An entire month went by with very little contact between you and Ethan, and to say you were losing hope in the relationship would be the biggest understatement of the century. 

A total of fifteen texts were shared and you had only seen each other nine times. What kind of relationship were you in? It wasn’t normal at all and it wasn’t like either of you to be so distant with each other. You couldn’t help it, though. Ethan had failed to stay on top of replying to texts and it hurt you more than you cared to admit. 

Though, the lack of communication was not just his fault. You had stopped texting him daily and instead only sent him a message every few days, some of which went unanswered completely. Instead of going over to his place or having him come over to yours, you only really saw him in between classes or at a party, and even that was rare. 

Like the other night, both you and Ethan were invited to a frat party without either of you realising it. When you bumped into him and saw your boyfriend for the first time in five days, you were brought back to the good times you used to have with him. It was easy to forget how bad things had gotten.

You ended up staying with him for the rest of the night and the two of you acted like you were in a normal relationship still and ignored the very obvious tension that hung in the air. 

It was nice to pretend for a night.

A day went by and you were back to not communicating once again. And the cycle continued. 

You considered it a miracle when you both found the time to spend a day with each other, though you two were both far from how you used to be. Ethan moved around your apartment with the hesitation of a stranger, and you couldn’t think of one thing to say to him that would start a conversation. 

Now here you were. You were sitting on the couch with Ethan right next to you, yet you felt so far away. There was an overwhelming sinking feeling in your chest and you knew what was coming. It was inevitable at this point, you both felt it. 

It wasn’t working out.

School got in the way.

We’re going in different directions.

We’re just too busy.

It didn’t make you feel any better.

But then again…who actually felt good about ending a relationship where you used to be so happy, one where you two were so good together?

The silence was overwhelming and both of you were too scared to be the first one to talk as you knew that when one of you did…it would be over.  A nearly three year relationship just over. It hurt to think about, let alone allow it to happen. 

With a shaky breath, you look over at him to find him already looking at you. You give him a sad smile and he returns it, refraining from reaching over and taking your hand in his. Instead, he bit back his hesitation and mumbled, “This isn’t working out, is it?”

You look away quickly, biting down on your lower lip as you slowly shake your head. “It’s not,” 

There it was. The end.

Ethan sighed as he played with the sleeves of his henley. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep that promise,” he said quietly. 

Your mind went back to the summertime and his promising words of ‘Even when school starts back up again….we’re going to be fine’. 

But you weren’t fine. 

His apology had your eyes watering and your lip quivering. Turning your head away from him so he wouldn’t see your face, you let a few tears fall. It was too much. You had thought you’d prepared yourself for this. Your relationship this past month was more like a friendship, and you were sure that things would be so different when you were over for good. The only reason you even saw him this month was because you both felt guilty about not putting in enough effort and just decided to push aside the tension and act like everything was fine. 

Would you ever see him again after this?

The thought had another sharp stab pierce your heart.

You shrug your shoulders in response, quickly wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand. “It just got too hard to keep up with. Life got in the way,” you hated the words you were saying as you refused to meet his eyes. “We tried, didn’t we?”

You weren’t sure why you were asking him that as you knew you both put in a poor effort to keep the relationship going. But Ethan knew this too, yet he didn’t want to say the truth, either. “We did,” he completed the lie with a simple nod of his head, something you missed as you still didn’t look over at him. 

The silence returned and you shifted uncomfortably. Never did you ever think you’d be uncomfortable while in the presence of Ethan. Things really have changed. 

In hopes to keep him in your life just a little bit longer, you ask him another question and try to ignore the way your voice cracked, “We were good together, right?”

Ethan’s reply came instantly. “Of course we were,” and it wasn’t a lie. 

Sure, the end of your relationship was hard, but the beginning was amazing, the middle was when you had some of the best days of your life, and the decision to end it was mutual. Not many couples can say that their breakup was mutual. 

You nod at his words, taking a chance and reaching over to grab his hand. Ethan let you as he knew this would be one of the last times he would be able to touch you. 

A teary exchange of smiles later had him getting up and leaving your apartment and finally you were able to bury your head in the pillows to muffle your sobs, the harsh reality of what just happened hitting you hard.

-

Two weeks passed and you weren’t over the breakup. You feared it would take many months for your heart to heal even a little bit, but you were okay with that. The ache you felt when you woke up was bearable as it meant your love was real and it happened. 

Sure, it was over, but it happened. And that was enough to keep you going. 

You skipped a lecture today to stay home and catch up on some reading. Well, you were supposed to be reading but here you were, laying on the couch and scrolling through your phone with the book open on your chest. 

That Summer in New York <3

You don’t know how many times you’ve read that caption of your last post with Ethan on your Instagram. The various photos did nothing to soothe the ache in your heart, but they did bring you the smallest bit of comfort.

The post was from the same day Ethan promised you’d be fine when school started, and the memory of that day was what kept you going. It was a good day, one filled with laughs, love and exploring the big city with your boyfriend. It was hard to think of that day being one of the last good ones you had with him.

Fuck, you missed him. Just like how you felt during the last stretch of your relationship, you felt worse now that it was truly over. 

The amount of times you had to stop yourself from texting him were countless, though the high twenties would be your guess. You hadn’t seen him since the breakup, with the exception of his past self in the photos on your page, and all you wanted to do was check if he was okay. Was he sad like you? Happy? Fine?

Like yours, his Instagram was still full of posts of the two of you as it seemed like he, too, couldn’t bring himself to delete them. It brought you the smallest amount of joy to know that the wound was still fresh to him like it was to you. 

Your mind went back to before you two were even dating and you realised that you started out as friends. That got you thinking; if you were friends before your relationship, who says you can’t be friends after it?

And with that, you open your texts and type out a message before you could stop yourself. 

Hey! I was thinking about you today and wanted to know if you were wanting to get together sometime? As friends :) I miss you and don’t want to not have you in my life

Before you could tell yourself that you sounded too desperate, your thumb hit send and you were left with the same message that used to haunt you.

Delivered one minute ago. 

It was only ten minutes later when your phone went off and you sat up quickly, setting the book down and grabbing your phone from off the coffee table. 

Ethan: you read my mind

Ethan: i miss you, too

The smile that formed on your lips was the biggest you’ve had in months and you quickly typed back a reply, not caring  at how needy it made you look. 

Great, we’ll set something up for the end of the week? 

A reply never came as quick as his. 

Ethan: definitely, can’t wait

You were now in a much better mood as you stood up from the couch and peaked your head in Tara’s room. She was on her bed, playing on her phone when she looked over and immediately sat up. “Hey, Y/n,” she said, the smile on your face making one form on hers. She hadn’t seen you look this happy in a while, so she wasn’t about to decline when you asked her if she wanted to go get brunch together. 

Tara was beyond excited to see your true, happy self slowly coming back. She knew how hard the breakup hit you and to see you begin to put yourself back together had a permanent smile on her face. 

Fall was just around the corner and the air was chilly, but that was the last thing on your mind as Tara guided you towards the new restaurant that had recently opened. She went there with Chad and couldn’t stop talking about how good the food was.

You listened with a smile on your face but within seconds your legs stop moving and your smile drops. 

Tara, who continued rambling about the food, stopped walking when she realised you were no longer next to her. She backtracks and stands next to you, placing a comforting hand on your arm. “What? What is it?”

You were looking off in the distance, unable to answer her as you felt tears spring to your eyes. Tara furrowed her brows at that and tried to see what you were looking at, and when she did, her hold on you tightened. 

On the opposite side of the street was Ethan.

You knew the first time you saw him after the breakup would hurt, but you assumed it would be because of a completely different reason than the one you felt now. 

You assumed it would hurt because you hadn’t seen him in weeks and you missed him, not because he was currently locking lips with a girl. 

“Y/n,” Tara said quietly, her hand moving down to properly hold yours. Tara had a feeling that the reason you were so happy was because of Ethan and a possible reconciliation, so seeing this had her mind going blank and her jaw locking. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off the scene and you watch as Ethan’s hands grip the girl’s waist and she leans further into the kiss. Her hands caress the sides of his face as she moves closer to him and that was when you decided you’d seen enough. 

Tara tugged you away and you let her. The two of you turn your back to your ex as she guides you back in the direction of your apartment, missing the way Ethan pulled away just in time to see you walk around the corner.

[runningfrom2am]

omg you should totally write a blurb (or maybe a whole oneshot, it's up to you) about drew being the absolute SWEETEST when you're sick. Like he makes sure every need of yours is catered you, that all the things you may need are kept on your bedside table at ALL TIMES, makes sure you have your comfort plushie with you IT WOULD BE SO CUTE

You can also write this for soft!rafe! Whatever you write, I know it will be soooo good <3 <3

YUP YUP YUP CORRECT I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS

idk this is just the vibe i get from him like for real,, but also soft!rafe i think would be very similar, especially with not knowing what the correct meds were and dragging you back to bed haha. anyway! enjoy!! i loved writing this sm omg-

send me other requests here !!!

you don't get sick often, but when you do? it's a whole event. growing up you'd always handled it yourself, rarely ever spending the day in bed and truly resting, letting something like a silly cold or flu stop you from getting things done. that changed when you started dating drew.

it's only happened once or twice since you've been together, but after the first time when he practically shoved you into bed, running to your side and carrying you back to the bed or your couch every time you got up for something and insisting he would do it for you, you started to succumb to your fate. it was very comforting, after all, the change of pace that was having someone who wanted to take care of you.

most of the time, honestly, he would know you were sick before you did, and you'd wake up to you having kicked your blankets off and his hand on your forehead, frowning down at you as your eyes flutter open. "you're sick." he would mutter, planting a kiss on your forehead as he moved his hand and quickly getting up.

he would disappear and return a few minutes later with your favourite water bottle and a cold, damp cloth, and an armful of every medication he could find in your bathroom cabinets.

you fell into a nice, stable routine when you were sick, in which you laid in bed and rested, whether that be playing video games or watching tv, or on particularly bad days just laying in the dark and regretting not eating more oranges while your head pounded. all you needed to do if you needed anything at all was text him, assuming he wasn't already at your side, and he would appear within moments. your favourite summoning message was 'help!', which you would type out and hit send, and listen with a smile for you to hear a chair scraping or shuffling followed by hurried footsteps approaching your room. "what do you need, love?" he would ask, standing in the doorframe incase what you needed was in the kitchen or the bathroom, he would be able to get it faster that way. no matter what your request was, you would have it in a matter of minutes, at the very latest.

occasionally, if you were feeling well enough to get up and stretch your legs and go to the kitchen for your own water bottle refill, you wondered how he could even hear you when he seemingly apparated to your side immediately. "you should be in bed! go back to bed, i'll get it." he'd usher you away, or sometimes (if he knew a headache wasn't your affliction, which would only get worse by being thrown around), he'd pick you up and carry you back to bed himself.

on days where he couldn't stay home to dote on your every need, he would shove your favourite childhood stuffie into the top of your shirt like it was a baby carrier, insisting that they take care of you while he's away. (but of course, if you hit him with the 'help!' text, he'd ditch whatever work he’s doing in a minute to be there for you, even if that meant rescheduling a shoot or a table reading to get home)

he'd always tuck in you and your stuffie of choice before he ever had to leave the room, and would come back every twenty minutes if he knew you were asleep to make sure the blanket was still covering you in hopes of making your fever break, but also not wanting you to get cold, even in your sleep. he'd run you twelve baths in a day if you asked, sometimes just running you one and then asking if you wanted to get in. which of course, rarely would you ever say no to a bath. and god forbid you run out of your favourite tea, all the windows in your kitchen would be perpetually foggy from him boiling and reboiling so much water for you.

he’d put on your favourite show and movies, and watch them repeatedly with you if you wanted. he’d apologize endlessly for turning on the bedroom light if you had a migraine, also apologizing through the whole noisy process of taping tinfoil over the window to keep both the heat and the light out. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry, love, i’m almost done. i promise.” he didn’t want to disturb you, and felt so guilty when he had to to make sure you took your medicine or were staying hydrated.

when you tell him you’re feeling better, he’s always skeptical. he never believes you at first, continuing to insist that you “sleep it off” for at least a day before he lets you rejoin society in any meaningful way, and you are yet to decide whether or not it’s because he just really likes doting on you.

bonus: checking your temperature by pressing his lips to your forehead!!!

[cyberrose2001]

TFP Optimus x fem!Reader

Requested by @musicalmedli, who wanted a continuation/re-write of this fic -> read here

sorry it took so long! (literally months oop, writers block is an ass)

I wrote the smut first and asked questions later, so apologies if the flow is off a bit.

also is this an excuse to write reader and OP 69ing? yes maybe shut up

Warnings: OP seducing reader, mostly dom!OP, fem human reader, 69 position.

Word count: 1976

18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT READ

Some time had passed since your embarrassing encounter with Optimus, and things around the base had been quite unusual, to say the least. Not only has Optimus been practically attached to your hip, but he’s also started behaving very strangely around you.

He smells nice, like he had somehow nabbed a fresh bottle of cologne. His frame looks cleaner and more buffed out than usual. One would say that the red and blue mech had taken more interest in the upkeeping of personal hygiene, which isn’t hard to believe. But what is hard to believe is the increasing amount of subtle winks he gives you when no one else is around.

You aren’t sure what’s got into him or why he constantly asks how your day was with a renewed suave. Maybe it might be better to confront him, but that thought seems to have manifested in reality as your phone pings a message from Optimus.

“Please meet me in my quarters.”, it reads.

Well, aren’t you the psychic?

-

This was probably expected coming from the recent behaviour of the Prime, but the shock never leaves your face as you close the door behind you and step into his candle-lit quarters.

Optimus is mass-displaced, slumping in a chair facing you, pedes half crossed on his knees, giving you a slight glimpse of his inner thighs. A forearm rests on the armchair, digits tapping rhythmically as if to send you into a trance. His other servo drapes lightly on his thigh, brushing against the inner protomass. You gulp, raking your eyes over every inch of his frame until you meet half-lidded optics. Soft but unquestionably oozing arousal.

You try to say something, anything, but your mouth runs dry from the pure, unfiltered sex radiating from him. Optimus notices and his thin-lined dermas curl up devilishly.

“Good evening,” Optimus hums, “Apologies for messaging you abruptly, but I’d like to talk with you if that is all right.”

From his body language alone, you’re sure that he didn’t call you here just to ‘talk’. But you digress; it could be something important. So, you nod, stepping into the dimly lit room.

“Uh, yeah. It’s ok. I wasn’t busy anyway,” You walk up to him with the hesitance of a newborn doe, “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“I suppose there is,” Optimus leans forward once you’re standing directly in front of him, his elbow on his knee, and holy fuck is he hot, “Can I just say how utterly bewitching you are?”

A pause, “M-Me? Surely not. I think you’ve got the wrong gal.”

“Was it not you that I attempted to court to forestall your leave?” Optimus tilts his helm, digits drumming on his knee, “It worked, did it not?”

You need to be very careful with your following words because the look Optimus is giving you right now screams, ‘If you say yes, I’m gonna fuck the brains out of you and give you the best orgasm of your entire life’. Which doesn’t sound too bad right now; your loins are on fire, and it’s becoming increasingly harder to think straight.

“I know you harbour feelings for me,” Optimus pushes his servos into the armrest and stands up. He then crouches down to be at eye level with you because even when mass-displaced, he still towers above you by a solid foot, “Say the word, and I will satisfy you enough to last you a lifetime.”

Your legs are about to give out, but that’s ok because you’ve taken the liberty to wrap your arms around his neck. Faces so close now that you’re breathing in his ex-vents, “Is that a challenge?”

Optimus’ optics dim, giving you the most sultry grin that rivals the sun. He wraps his arms behind you and picks you up, and you instantly wrap your legs around his waist, “Is that… your permission to proceed?”

You’re in too deep now. Slowly, you nod and cup his faceplate in your warm hands, inching closer and closer, “Yes.”

You close the distance to his dermas, and he fucking growls. His grip on your ass is firm as he returns the kiss with the intensity of a firestorm, glossa pressing against your tongue in an act of dominance.

After gaining your full permission and miraculously without breaking the heated kiss, Optimus throws you onto the blanket-covered berth behind you, thanking Primus that he had organised the soft landing before your arrival. And also a bit suspicious that he had fully expected to seduce you to get into your pants or lack thereof; because Optimus had clawed at them before you even had the chance to break the kiss and catch your winded breath.

You’re entirely at his mercy, with nowhere to run as he cages your upper body with his gorgeously robust forearms. His optics glow in a tantalising turquoise as he rakes them down your body, hungry and lustful.

While he soaks in the sight of you below him, it gives you time to appreciate how damn handsome he truly is. The soft orange glow of the candles highlights every crevasse, every perfect imperfection that he somehow missed buffing himself out for you. He’s gorgeous, and the faint smile he gives you tells you that he damn well knows it.

Optimus flirtatiously laughs before leaning his helm down to press a tender kiss to your neck, ex-vents like a gentle breeze on your skin, “You have no idea how long I have yearned for this.”

Feeling his glossa pressing against your neck, you softly moan, lulling your head to the side for more access. You can feel him suckle slightly, and your breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut. He’s marking you, and you have no choice but to submit yourself to him.

Well, maybe you have some choice. You remember Optimus trying to flirt with you via a very raunchy pickup line, not having any idea what it even meant. This might be your opportunity to give him a hands-on experience; you just have to tug the breaks slightly on this dominant Optimus train.

“-hggff- Optimus,” You gasp out and reach up to gently push his chest away; removing him from your neck was like Velcro, “Wanna try out that… position I told you about?”

Optimus hitches his breath. Ever since you whispered those lewd words into his audial receptors, the thought of you lying atop him as he indulges in your heat for the first time while you do the same for him makes his spark flutter, “I will not lie. It’s been on my mind for quite some time… I suppose we could attempt it.”

The whole reason it’s been on his mind in the first place was that you were the one who planted that thought in his processor, and now you just realised exactly why Optimus had been acting like a love-struck puppy around you. He fucking researched it, and it got him majorly flustered.

Optimus digs his servos beneath your back to cradle you and flips himself over, with you now draped across him. You sit up and make work of stripping the remainder of the clothes Optimus hadn’t shredded, and when you rip your bra off, his servos instantly press against your chest.

“Mmmm, these are delightful,” Optimus purrs, digits kneading into your plump flesh, “So very soft…”

You bite back a moan before pulling his servo away from you, “I know, but let’s not get distracted, hm? You can play with them after.” You then maneuver yourself so you face first with his interfacing array, which you notice is already bowed out; your breasts squishing against his abdominal plating.

“I see you’re already excited; wanna show me?” You purr as you palm him, drawing delightful shivers from him. You kiss his groin, and he nearly bucks up into you in excitement.

Optimus doesn’t hesitate to expose him to you, groaning as his thick spike unsheathes itself from its housing. And you’re fucking drooling. It’s gorgeous, has a slight lean and is absolutely rock hard, staring right at you.

You’re not the only one drooling. Optimus’ optics are laser-focused on your dripping pussy; it entices him to dive right in. He moves his servos to grip your ass cheeks, massaging them gently.

“Primus, what a sight to behold.” He breathes out, and the warm air tickles your heat. He leans in, flattening his glossa to lick a thick line from your clit to your hole.

“F-Fuck…” You gasp out, leaning your hips into his intake more. The way Optimus is lapping at your folds is very distracting, and you almost forget that you’re supposed to be returning the favour.

You grab his spike, running your fingers up and down in tandem with his glossa. It’s softer than you thought, similar to the malleable protomass beneath his metal exterior, and you can’t wait to get your mouth around it. You stick your tongue out and lick from the base to the very tip, and you can feel Optimus groaning into your heat as you do.

Feeling confident, you wrap your lips around his tip and apply gentle suction. You swirl your tongue, lapping up the pre-cum already spilling down, and you moan at the taste. If you’re not careful, you might get addicted to it.

You can’t say the same for Optimus, who drinks you with a fervour akin to someone lost in the desert and has discovered water for the first time in weeks. He wraps his arms around your waist, forcing you almost entirely to sit on his face. His glossa delves into your hole, and you cry out around his spike.

You’re almost thrown off him when you do, the vibrations from your throat sending an electrical shock through his hips as he bucks into your mouth. He’s deepthroating you now, and you must be a snake of some kind because this shouldn’t be possible unless you’ve unhinged your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” He takes a breath, pressing kisses to your sensitive bud, “I can’t -aggh- help myself. Your intake is so tight.”

“Keep going, Optimus,” You pop your mouth off him, using one hand to stabilise yourself on him and the other to pump him feverishly, “I’m so close, f-fuck.”

As soon as those fluttery words leave your mouth, you’re straight back to sucking his spike with all the strength you have left. Optimus has also continued his assault on your clit. He swirls his glossa and wraps his dermas around it, and you’re fucking done. You cum on his glossa so hard it’s like an explosion on your nervous system, rocking your hips against him involuntarily.

Optimus pushes your hips further onto his intake and tightly grips your waist as his own overload overtakes his senses, the rush of cum flowing onto his glossa combined with your relentless sucking being just enough to send him over the edge.

He overloads right into your throat, and you’re determined to swallow every last drop. You push his spike past your gag reflex, tears filling your eyes as the rush of stickiness overflows into your cheeks and past your lips, dripping down his spike as it spasms against your tongue.

Once you feel he’s completely finished, you pull your mouth off and gulp. There’s so much you couldn’t, but you mentally pat yourself on the back for swallowing what you could.

Optimus releases his hold on your waist, allowing you to manoeuvre yourself so you’re facing him again. And holy fuck, seeing his face drenched in your fluids is almost enough to make you cum again.

He gives you a dopey smile and wraps his arms around your waist, “That undoubtedly exceeded my expectations. Should I try to seduce you again someday?”

“I don’t think you need to,” You breathlessly chuckle, “You’ve already got me hooked.”

[pix3lplays]

Hello, @moonsaver here! Its a side blog so i cant quite send an ask from that account itself, whoops.

Anyways, I was kind of contemplating on whether or not sending a message because i didnt want to overstep any boundaries and accidentally make it seem like i sent a request when theyre closed haha.

I wholeheartedly believe in your characterization of Argenti, and would like to propose a role he could play in a royal!au

A knight

I mean.. obviously. It would be even funnier if all the knights under him were like.. kind of incompetent and love the peace between the nations thoroughly and just spend their time singing praises for Idrila. Maybe he's a royal knight and the reader could be a prince/ss who often makes trips to towns and provinces to check on celebrations, and their Father's all like "oh they'll need a guard, I'll assign them the most HANDSOME guard of my men!" And shows up Argenti singing praises to reader waking them up at like.. 5 AM? He's a handful already and the day's barely begun. His getup is probably flashier than reader's who is literal royalty. Everyone's cooing at him in the streets and it's hard to not blow your cover off

Oh my goodness hello, I’m so excited that you sent this to me~

(I am ALWAYS up for hearing ideas, hehe)

And I’m SO glad you’re in agreement with my characterization of our beloved Argenti~

You’re saying…Argenti would be a KNIGHT in a Royal au???? Are you feeling alright??? Jk jk of course he would be.

I love this so much. I bet Argenti wakes up like Cinderella. Birds flying around his room and everything. Though he canonically doesn’t know how to sing so it’s admittedly a lot funnier than Cinderella, listening to him sing all terribly while birds flap around his sleeping quarters.

‘Handful’ is a very nice way to put it…he never Means to be overbearing, and I am in agreement with the assessment that he’s not vain or purposely annoying or anything he just…cannot read a room for the life of him.

Suddenly you’re getting roses alongside your morning breakfast, and it’s admittedly a little funny to imagine him hunting down your butler to put the flowers on your food tray.

Also I see it so, so vividly. You’re trying to be subtle with your knight bodyguard, just trying to quietly survey the town to make sure everything’s going smoothly…and Mr. Tall, shiny armor, and Bright Red Hair is already making the two of you stand out…but he also stops and talks to anyone and everyone who shows him attention, sigh…

Maybe that person is waving him over because they need help!! Oh…no they wanted to ask him if he was single…

Please consider…going to a tavern…you want him to wait outside because surely there would be people in there who weren’t a fan of knights.

A few minutes later you look over and guess who has wandered into the bar and is now chatting up a group of rough looking characters…oh Argenti…

He’s so pretty. No one really suspects from his initial appearance that he’s as strong as he is.

Bar fight ensues because HEY this guy’s a KNIGHT >:( and Argenti promptly dispatches them, of course without casualties, he would never kill unless it was truly necessary.

He’s so sweet, but genuinely so confused about why a fight started over him. For a knight he sure is…not very well-versed in the ways of the world.

But you can’t say much as a Royal, can you?

You can share your limited knowledge with each other, haha…maybe form some sort of picture of how to successfully navigate the world.

And, ok I’m sorry I’m a sucker for this but, a cute little scene with him teaching reader some basic self-defense?? Ugh that’d be so cute…I’m so normal about it. The closeness of your bodies, the intimacy of him showing you how to properly hold a spear by taking your hands in his and demonstrating for you.

But of course…there is also the potential forbidden aspect of it all…a knight…he cannot be in love with a royal…it’d be a SCANDAL. So he pushes you away, tries to keep it professional once he realizes that he’s growing much too close to you…

It’s painful, and confusing to see him suddenly growing so much colder towards you, and always looking at you with those sad eyes…

Argenti….

It’s fine I’m fine.

Thanks for sending this in, moonsaver. I definitely didn’t make myself sad thinking about it, nope not me.

[bitchlessdino]

so happy that i saw that ur recs r open bc for some reason i thought they were closed which was sad. bc i literally love ur writing and ur so good and making me feel like i’m actually in the situation you’re describing like ur my idol i swear. anyways i digress, could you please write me a smut with cheol? honestly any set up you want and any kinks you want. bc tbh anything you write i love no matter what it is. bless yo soul 🙏🙏🫶❤️

Pairing: seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2k

tags: brief teacher!cheol, neighbor au, fwb au, lingerie (as well mentions of the destruction of it), rough sex, choking, doggy style, daddy kink, marking, oral (recieving and giving), spitting

Summary: Welcome to the five tip guide on being neighborly! We hope this helps you get on friendly terms with the people you see everyday!

author note: I shouldn't be anyone’s idol lol but thank you 🥺. I've done so much to this that you might get whiplash tbh

1. Always greet your neighbor

You glance back at him as he ruffles through his mail, likely looking for something urgent or maybe a new event flyer to pique any interest. You can see his eyes turn up in the corner, returning your gaze, a grin tugging his cheeks harder as he greets you with a simple, “Afternoon.”

“Good afternoon to you,” you greet back, you scanned his figure up and down, taking in his laid-back work attire. From the beige dress shirt untucked from his slacks to the usually smooth pressed tie dangling loosely from his neck, that is only possible after a long day at work, but how could that be? It was only 3 pm. “Short work day?”

“It was a parent teacher conference day. Kids left early, and we teachers talk to parents for a few hours then leave on the dot. How about you? Why are you home early?”

“Working from home today. Remembered to get mail. Got lucky that I got to see you.”

His ears perk up at the word. “Lucky? You got something to do with me?” 

It’s funny how he could say that with a straight face. 

You shake your head grinning. “No. Just nice to see one of my favorite neighbors.”

He chuckles, “Pleased to know I’m a favorite. KKuma misses you by the way.”

“Kkuma? Just Kkuma?” You ask with a raised brow, a Cheshire smile dangles off your face, tucking the bundle under your arm.

Your anticipation was evident on your face. Seungcheol could play this cleverly or like he always does: with a stupid smile on his face.

“Well,” he cheekily grins, pretending to shuffle through his mail, “not just Kkuma.”

You press your legs together in restraint, holding yourself back from taking a step further, knowing well there was plenty of time in the rest of your day. “I’ll see you ‘round, Cheol.”

“I’m betting on it.”

2. Always call ahead before visiting: 

Seungcheol lingered on your mind for quite a while, picturing his bare broad shoulders facing you as he faced the sunrise from your fire escape, only wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. You hum at the internal image in delight, leaning on the kitchen counter in longing, wishing and dreaming it was replaced by something much warmer. 

You immediately think to text him, ask him what his plans are with all that free time, and are waiting for the other line to respond, luckily sooner than you expected. The nickname you have for him pops up as well a timid smile on your face reading out his message:

Kkumas Daddy: no but I bet you have a few ideas

Your teeth meet your bottom lip with interest, thinking about what to type out. Your thumbs scale the bright screen across the keyboard before you could stop yourself. Blood rushing to heat your cheeks and hitting send almost too soon, not even worrying about the possible typos you made.

You: maybe I do. I could tell you unless you want me to show you

You shut your eyes, clutching the electronic device, quietly praying that you read the room right. It’s a few seconds later, your phone plays a text tone and you open to read what he responds back with.

Kkumas Daddy: well I wouldnt be against it

You scrambled in your closet to pick out a pretty set, letting the straps tug against your body in a flattering way before snapping a few photos, picking out the best one, and sending it to him. You hands were practically shaking. It had been so long since you go to do this. You felt sexy, wanted, invigorated; all by the same man.

Seungcheol finds the notification immediately, throat running dry at how pretty you look in red lace, hand automatically falling to the erection in his sweats. He palms himself, thinking of fucking the daylights out of you, seeing the tears fall from your eyes when you scream how good he feels in you. He could get himself off just thinking about it. He struggles to respond with one hand, lightly relieving himself simultaneously. 

Kkumas Daddy: You knew just what i want to see

Kkumas Daddy: You put that on just for me?

Kkumas Daddy: I hope you don’t mind me ripping it open to get to what’s underneath

Your arousal was practically pooling between your legs, having you clench around nothing, you think about him ruining you perfectly against your fresh sheets or face down on the kitchen counter. No matter how many pieces of lingerie you would go through, he’d rip it like disposables and you’d be split in half, practically shaking with the cum spilling out of you.

You:  You better come over then before I decide on taking it off

Kkumas Daddy: Not without me you won’t

3. If you ask for a favor, like borrowing a cup of sugar, always thank them: 

“T-thank you, daddy,” You barely utter as Seungcheol ruts you over the arm of your couch.

He did good on his word when he came over. In little to no time, he’s made himself home, closing the door behind him, attaching his lips to yours, and pulling off your cardigan to reveal the lingerie set he only saw in your messages. He’s groaning over your lips, curling a fist to the small of your back. “You’re body is fucking absurd in this. Shit.”

His hand traces your frame, brushing his fingers over your erect nipples through the lace covering them, and hoists you up to wrap your legs around his torso. Things only went up from there as his reliably strong build handles you like a rag doll and he takes you to the living room to fuck you open.

He holds you by your hair, ass in the air with help of the couch and he can barely hear your thanks through the violent sound of skin slapping and your vicious moisture. “You gotta be louder than that for me to hear you, pretty thing.”

You could hear the arrogant smile in his tone, as well as the breathlessness he exhibits. He manages to slow down his pace, teasing you to get your voice a chance, but the slippery suction of his cock going in and out of you still haunts your ears. “Thank you so much, daddy…you make me feel so full.”

He picks up his speed, squeezing the flesh of your cheeks in gratitude. “You like taking my cock? You’re so fucking good at it. Your little hole is practically perfect for taking it deep.”

“Yes!” You answer enthusiastically, nails digging into the scratchy tweed cushions. “It’s so…b-big and…f-fucks me…so good.”

He places a hand over your neck, pulling you up to have your bare back meet his bare chest, bottoming out inside you, and holding back your oxygen. Your eyes flutter at this sensation, hands gripping the couch arm desperately to ground yourself, vision blurring from lack of and you incessant tears. His tongue runs up the back of your neck, a slobber trail left on your skin before he’s sucking down the skin of your jaw, triggering something in you that made your body restless. You could feel your arousal drip so far past your knees.

“Fuck, daddy!” you cry out rather loudly, his warm chuckles tickling your skin soon after. 

The pads of his fingers press deeper into the base of your neck. His teeth bit down on the patch of skin he caught and marking you a pretty darker shade. “Look, I just made you a little prettier.

4. Lend a hand when you can: 

Seungcheol’s full length slides in your mouth and down your throat so effortlessly. He shut his eyes at the tight sensation and your drool dripping down his shaft until it reaches his lap. You bob your head, looking at him wide-eyed and needy; all signs pointing to your cock thirst. He groans watching your efforts, feeling himself hit the back of your throat euphorically.

“What a perfect little mouth. Does daddy taste good, baby?”

You moan a ‘yes,’ vibrating around his cock and his precum coating your tongue. Your lips hug around his girth, glossy and perfect, looking the prettiest sucking his dick. He thought about this all the time when he was alone, ecstatic to have it back.

“God,” He takes your hair in fists, “Your mouth is a dream…”

He pushes your head down in aid, moving you to his preferred pace, his hips thrusting in your mouth. The sound you make was nothing short of melodic. From the gag of your mouth to the slick moisture that echoed throughout the room, he felt like he could leave this world happy with your mouth full of his cum.

“S-shit.” He overexerts himself, pumping a hot load directly down your mouth and it leaks past your lips, dribbling down your chin like melted ice scream.

You pull him out of you with a gasp, coughing for air, half of the cum in your mouth swallowed down or trailing down your chest. 

“Did I hurt you?” a brief look of concern washes over his face.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, smiling manically. “Yes, but I liked it.”

5.Make sure to leave a lasting good impression: 

Seungcheol spits in his hands before running a finger down your slit, edging you with a tired grin on his face, your whines becoming his theme music. “Daddy please…”

“You’re so wet. My fingers got dirty so fast from you.” He pushes two digits in, making themselves him and adjusting the rhythm in which they move to see how loud you can really get. “Gotta push all this cum back in you. Can’t waste any of it, you know.”

Knuckles deep, he curls his fingers, thumb pressing into your clit in his intervals of rubbing. You squirm under his touch, crying out his name like a mantra, pushing the back of your head deep into the couch cushions. His face buries between your legs, spitting inside your hole, and letting his tongue join his fingers. It circles inside you, fucking you just as good as his fat length would. He lapped you up like liquid gold, blessing his mouth and throat with the pleasure of your climax. 

You savor the experience, watching tufts of his hair flying all over the place, and his cheeks damp with the result of you cumming two or more times today. There wasn’t a better image you could think of replaying in your head after this is all over. “Daddy, your mouth…cumming…”

You warn him too late as it’s already gushing out of you, he smiles in your warm, no doubt staining your couch in all kinds of fluid. He picks himself up and kisses your lips, the reminisce of today sweet and salty on both your tongues. When Seungcheol parts from you, you could focus on hearing each other pants, the pounding in either one’s chest, and the warmth of his flushed and tired body as he envelopes you in an embrace, pulling you into his lap as he rests against the couch. 

“That…” he gasps, “was fucking crazy. Why don’t we fuck like that anymore?”

You laugh through your nose, resting your head on the crook of his neck. “You were dating someone that wasn’t me.”

He sighs, eyes boring into the dim light of the common area, before slowly closing them shut, “Right.”

You twiddle with your fingers, their tingling sensation nagging at you to work up the nerve to finally say it. Your eyes sporadically blink both in fatigue and anxiety. You decide to embrace his broad back, exhaling through your nose in a calm breath. 

“I was thinking. Maybe instead of, I don’t know, casual sex, we could…Cheol?”

He was long gone. His snores leave his nostrils as soon as air enters, tranced in a deep slumber. You sigh, bitterly gazing back at him and thinking about what’s never to come. But hey, at least you’re good neighbors. He’d never let you forget that. 

[bp-zb1fics]

Tall & Handsome & wants birthday kisses

pairing: ricky x reader

genre: highschool au (same verse as shy, shy, shy), fluff, romantic tropes

tw/tags: longtime friends, birthdays, coming of age vibes, a lot of banter, feels, cuteness, vandalism of school property, gyuvin will be fine, violent thoughts that are mostly unserious, many kisses, rizzky

wc: 1128

summary: for ricky, the best birthdays are spent with you

a/n happy ricky day~ little late here but it's 520 somewhere ~

Read part 1 here~

“You know I’m going to miss you right?”

You’re 12. It’s Ricky’s last birthday with you before his family moves and puts oceans and time zones between your friendship.

“We have each other’s SNS,” he points out. “You already made me promise to send pictures when the plane lands. Don’t make it weird.”

“But I will,” you insist. “I’m just saying, you know, it’s going to be weird not seeing your ugly face all the time.”

“You’re ugly,” he retorts because puberty is starting to get to the both of you, making it awkward and strange in ways where only you can understand what the other is going through.

“I hope you stay ugly forever.”

“Take that back.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nope.” You have the audacity to make a face at him.

“Take it back.”

“Okay, tell me you’ll miss me too.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Say it or I won’t take it back and you’ll just be ug-”

“Okay, okay, fine.”

You look at him expectantly, arms crossed over your chest with the most infuriating expression that a 12 year old can muster on your face. He takes a deep breath, staring back at you.

“I’ll miss you.”

“Really? Is that it?”

“Did you ask me to say anything else? I said it.” Okay fair enough.

“Fine. I knew you’d miss me anyways.”

God, you’re annoying. It’s even more annoying when you give him your gift and it’s an amazingly huge sketchbook along with a pizza-themed birthday card where you’ve written too many words for him to even read in one sitting. And it’s the most annoying when Ricky gets off the plane and he’s in his new bedroom in his new house and he realises that-

-well, he actually really misses you too.

__________________________________________

“Happy 16th, Ricky-ah!”

It’s been four years since Ricky’s had a birthday with you beyond the greeting messages you’d send, maybe a short call if the timing is right.

It’s absolute chaos. (But that’s mostly Gyuvin and Junhyeon’s fault)

Somehow, they’ve managed to turn his desk into a- he didn’t even know what to call it. Black construction taped over the top, someone (definitely Gyuvin) managed to hang silver streamers right from the ceiling above and his chair completely covered in gold foil and shiny red cellophane in some sort of convoluted throne.

They also tried to surprise him when he walked into the classroom but jokes on them, Ricky learned how to hold a poker face and keep himself from flinching a long time ago. Probably from that time when you were 10 and made a game out of who could give each other the bigger scare. It was stupid. So stupid that Ricky decided to learn how to do that because you were so cute when you were frustrated.

Oh cute what? He’s pretty sure 10 year old Ricky didn’t have any reasoning like that.

He’s just letting you put that silly plastic crown on him because he’s nice and it’s been awhile and he doesn’t want you whining about it to him the whole day. Nevermind that the look he gives Gyuvin promises blood, murder and death if the other boy so much as said anything. 

(Gyuvin says something anyway, Ricky’s really going to punch him one day no he isn’t )

You even get him one of those little cakes from that convenience store and cafe near your school. It’s your lunch break and you’re leading the birthday song, sitting across from him, clapping your hands as Gyuvin, Junhyeon and even Gunwook decide to try and do their own harmonic rendition.

“Make a wish, Ricky-ah~”

Maybe Ricky’s definitely deaf from Junhyeon’s creative decision to belt the song out at maximum volume. Maybe his fist is twitching in an effort to resist the urge to sock the shit-eating grin off of Gyuvin’s face. But suddenly, all he can see is how your eyes shine, even if that’s probably from the light or the glow of the candle.

Ricky makes a wish and he realises that-

-well he might actually like you more than he thinks. (And by more than he thinks, yes, like more than friends).

__________________________________________

“So now will you tell me what birthday gift you want?”

Your boyfriend gives you that coy look which honestly, you don’t know how he’s capable of doing at your young age.

It’s been pretty great so far. You had birthday lunch with the dog mafia, their unofficially adopted children and a few other friends at Ricky’s favourite pizza place. And you’ll have dinner with his family later.

Right now, you’re at his house, lazing the afternoon away because Ricky had insisted on spending time together, just the two of you. Honestly, you’re pretty sure he was about one more side comment away from actually strangling Gyuvin if you hadn’t tugged him away.

“Remember when I turned 12 and you called me ugly?”

“Eh, all of a sudden?”

“You never took it back.”

The incredulity of your stare is very much felt by both of you. Dumbfounded, literally.

“What- are you- is this for real? You’re kidding me right?”

He takes your hands in his, pulling you towards him so you’re staring right at each other. You tilt your head back, seriously he needs to stop with the rizz.

“Take it back.”

“Seriously?”

“Take it back.”

“Okay, okay I'll take it back. God, anything else you want?”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours. You jump a little, not exactly expecting that. And then you melt. He pulls back, leaving a hint of strawberry and the smell of his cologne.

“19.”

“What?”

“I want 19 of that for my birthday.” He’s managed to keep a completely straight face but you have eyes and the pink on his cheek and at the tip of his ears is definitely not a trick of the light. Well, two can play a game.

You lean forward, cup his face in between your palms and peck him on the nose a few times, giggling. 

One. Two. Three. Four.

You press light ones over each eyelid, propping yourself up to kiss his foreheads, littering small ones all over his cheeks. 

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Four-

Maybe you lose count at some point, your lips lingering over his, soft and sweet. You playfully bite at his bottom lip before pulling back to look at him. He’s definitely trying not to smile too much.

“For the record, I never really thought you were ugly.”

“I know.” Your nose scrunches up and he kisses the corner of your mouth.

“You’re lucky it’s your birthday”

“Ah, so can I have 19 more?”

Honestly? He can have all the kisses he wants. Even on days that aren’t his birthday.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I an asshole for making fun of someone’s name and interests but then apologizing? I (16M) recently became friends with some people in my lunch hour. They are Z (17NB), M (18NB) and K (17M). M is dating A (18FTM), who i have met twice and had maybe two brief convos with, and he seemed sweet at the time. However, A is friends with the whole group, so they all know him and talk about him. We have joked in the past about the fact that A has the same nickname as one of my other friends. For the sake of fake names, lets say the nickname is Alex. I refer to my friend as Alex and Z,M, and K all call their friend Alex too. However, one day i called my friend by his full name- again, fake name, but lets say- Alexander. M makes fun of my friends name, saying its a bad name. In retaliation I jokingly say ‘your partners name is worse!’. A’s full name is a different spelling of a rather nice name, for this lets say its Alexyus (like Alexis). I mention that i like the name alexis, just say “but who spells it with a y!”. I also add, “plus theyre literally a dsmp and homestuck fan!”. OKAY BEAR WITH ME! i will fully accept and admit that thus far i have been an asshole. It wasnt okay for M to make fun of my friends name, but it also wasnt okay for me to make fun of their partner.

Anyways- no one seemed too upset by it in the moment, but later when i got home i received messages from M, K, and A. M’s had some odd sort of long copy pasta which basically said i hope you suffer, but it felt like a joke to me so just responded withh “i aint reading all that”. K’s message was wild tho- he said “i was just hoping you would kill yourself, overdose, hang yourself, or even just cut ur wrists. what is wrong with you, you fing freak!”. which is… wow! After i read the message i saw him edit it to add a “/jay” (meaning joking) at the end, but the original message had no indication of it being a joke. However, i accepted it as a joke because…. Why would he tell me to kill myself lol…. Anyways, A’s message was polite and formal, asking to talk about something i said earlier at lunch (A isnt in our lunch, he wasnt there when i made the comment about his name, but i assume M or K told him). I respond equally politely and we had a good conversation about it, i realized that it wasnt at all my place to make thats jokes or poke fun at A in that way, and i apologized. A said it was all good and honestly i was impressed with their forgiveness and maturity. I hoped A and i could become potential friends in the future, even. I was still peeved that K literally told me to commit suicide, but whatever yknow. The next few days at lunch were awkward but my other friend, Z, and me mostly just didnt talk to M and K. At some point my other friend, who i told about this, mentioned to K kinda offhandedly like “yo it was kinda fucked up u told (me) to kill himself..” and K informed us that he actually didnt send the message, it was A on his phone. M corroborated this story and then we left, but i was honestly so shocked.

Now i dislike and feel uncomfortable around M, K and A (although not Z, who agreed that what the rest of them did was not okay), because to me it feels like they all were okay and agreement of the message. But ultimately i’m really conflicted- it was definitely wrong of me to make fun of A (even if it was not meant to be serious, i dont know A well enough to joke like that), but i feel like telling me to kms is unjustified. Maybe it all is stupid drama tho, and i should just let it go?

*** i forgot to add- if its worth noting, since A is trans, he chose his own name, and mentioned that was one of the reasons he was specifically upset. Should i have not made fun of his name because i know he chose it himself? (Idk if it matters but my friend alexander is also trans and chose his name too. Also i love him and his name to death so maybe thats why i was specifically defensive of it.) but anyways:

Am i the asshole? Are we all assholes?

What are these acronyms?

[quigonswife8]

Johnny Cage x reader: depression

You may deal with depression but at least you have John to help you get through it

[gif creds: @mortal-kombat-1]

Warnings: depression.

Here for you if you ever need to talk, you're not alone❤️

---

John Carlton, better known as Johnny Cage, is your partner of four years. The two of you wed in your hometown, and have been going strong just as long. He may be famous, adored by many, but he's still the same man you married. The same man that took your heart, and has kept it ever since.

The two of you trust one-another with your lives, would do anything for one-another. The day you told him about your depression he became more protective, more loving than he already was. He had sat down with you taken your hand in his and gave you a loving speech about never leaving you; even if the thoughts would convince you otherwise.

People would be confused, however; you're married to the Johnny Cage, you have unlimited money at your expense, a lavish house and plenty of food to last a life time. Gifts and limo rides, all the best places you've visited, and everything you've ever needed, so why would there even be depression.

Well even with all of this and more that's how depression works. As hard as you try and get that same happiness from what you used to love on some, if not most days, those same things don't bring that same meaningfulness, same happiness.

------

The sun slithers in through your half-opened blinds; with a soft groan you rub your eyes. They move overt to the alarm clock crooked on your side-table, and in large easy to read the numbers 10:00 am.

John, currently at work, had left a cute handwritten note on the side-table:

Hey sweets I had to get going and continue filming the movie and all that, but I left you some money for you to order in. I'll see you at home later on.

-lots of love, your movie-star❤️

Your favourite perfume sprayed on the note brings a smile, even if it's small, to your face. You hold the note to your chest and sigh softly; he's always so considerate, so sympathetic and caring. He may have a big ego, even John admits to that, but that doesn't cloud the rest of his personality.

A quick glance at the clock 10:10. it feels so early despite it already being 10 in the morning. Though this isn't a rare occurrence and if there's anyone that knows that best, it's John; maybe that's why he left you money to order in, he had probably picked up your depressive mood recently. No words had to be exchanged, as John can read body language pretty well i.e. comes with being a movie star.

"I love you John..." the note still held to your chest.

-

For the rest of the day you lounge around; John sends the occasional message checking up on you. He leaves pictures of himself at work too.

11:01: thinking of you sweets, I love you heaps❤️

12:05: I just remembered this nice little italian joint when you're up for it i'd love to take you honey. Imagining you all dressed up is making me flustered ;) but you could wear a trashbag and still make me flustered anyway❤️

2:05: Sorry for the late reply sweets had to re-take this scene more times than I could count, but I’ll be home soon. I know that you’re not really doing well so I’m gonna finish wrapping up and I’ll be home.

All these messages and more bring a purpose to your life, that he always brings. No matter how down you feel Johnny always knows how to make you a little better, be it with compliments, cuddles, kisses, etc; he's your light in the dark, truly.

You run a hand over your face, the depression seeming to kick in bad. It's almost as if your mood did a full 180 when you already woke up feeling bad.

You doze off a few times before John returns to you, your love returns.

[3:05 pm]

A familiar door opening followed by the sweet sound of your husbands voice brings you out of the book you're ready. Placing it down on the bed your feet carry you downstairs to John, and John lights up seeing his beloved.

"Come here honey..."- his arms outstretched to hug you. You close the gap and wrap your arms around him in a kind of needy way, to which John happily obliges by tightening his arms around you.

"I'm so happy to be home..."

"And i'm happy you're home baby."

John rubs your back, and then pulls out of the hug. His right hand moving underneath your chin to tilt it up towards him; his eyes have softened, they only focus on you and nothing else. He missed giving you attention and you missed receiving it even if he was only gone for the day.

"You're so perfect, I swear I fall more in love with everytime I see you."- a soft chuckle following, though that smile he wears doesn't falter. "...look at you making this movie-star melt."

You giggle and look down, and John laughs softly.

"God you're adorable..."- and he leans down and kisses your cheek. "...now time to go lay down sweets.” without a second thought John scoops you up in his arms and carries you up to the room: he still has some movie makeup left on his face yet regardless he still looks perfect.

The thoughts make you wonder how he could even be with you, but your heart wins and you only melt more knowing he chose you.

John lays you down on the bed, adjusting the pillows and blanket. Then he crawls under the blanket and with one swift movement has wrapped you up in his arms once more, your head pressed against his chest.

He presses a soft kiss to your head and creates more room to be more comfortable while keeping you close; so close you can hear his heartbeat. It's calming.

"So...how have you been sweets? Im so sorry that you’re going through this…it’s bad, huh.” you love how well he can read you. You sigh and start:

"Yeah I haven't been great John. My...depression has been bad, i've been trying to manage it but it only gets worse. I barely left the bed today I know I should have but I...I just couldn't..."

John's heart breaks even more, and he tightens his hold but not uncomfortably. "Oh honey I'm so sorry." and he presses another kiss to your head, it's so...sweet and so calming. "...I may not be going through what you're going through but that doesn't mean you're not, and I'm so sorry you have to deal with this shitty thing."

John sighs softly and closes his eyes. "...but like I always say i'm here for you no matter what and you know what? I'm gonna take a week off work to be here with you-"

"But John-"

"No buts." he hushes you softly. "...the movie can wait, your health and wellbeing is more important. That’s why I wrapped up early to be here for you. So how about we spend the week just lounging around watching cheesy movies in our pajamas.”

Oh you love this man.

"Really?"

He squeezes your hand and smiles, those pearly whites on display.

"Really sweetheart. God if the movie has to be stopped altogether I could care less, because you're my world sweets, and you mean more than some fake movie. So I'm gonna pamper you and show you all the love and attention sweetheart." and he pulls you closer and presses yet another kiss to your head. "...because you deserve it all, and more. My angel."

Shifting your body, you smile. You smile and press a kiss to his cheek which makes him blush a little, and then you put a hand on his cheek, and keep it there. The love in both of your eyes are so evident.

"I love you, so much."

You settle back into his arms and John keeps you close to his chest, to his heart. Your breathing evens out and you find yourself drifting off in his loving embrace; before that happens he whispers an I love you, then, you're out.

John looks down at you so lovingly, and he pulls the blankets up, resting his head on the pillow being careful not to wake you.

He takes another look at you, another "I love you." falling from his lips, then like you John is out. The two of you asleep in one-another's arms, almost like you're the only two people left in this world and nothing else matters.

----

[kidvoodoo]

When was the last time I made a text post??? Long time ago I guess

Anyway please stop sending me death threats and messages to kms I am mentally ill and at risk of self harm. this is crazy I e been on this site for over a decade and never had anything like this happen before.

Not tagging anyone or anything specific but if this has to do with art I posted recently idk what to tell you I am not on other social media platforms so idk what is going on

But at this point idc if people are going to act this way I suppose the safest thing to do is step away until everyone is calmed down

I apologize for the vague post but I’m not trying to start anything all the messages I got were anon and I haven’t replied to any of them, I guess some people are mad because I made art of Käärijä recently? People are mad at him I guess . I posted my art a while ago so I’m not really sure what has happened

Anyway for my own safety I am taking a break from Tumblr because this is a crazy thing to suddenly be told to die in my messages. Like I said I am a high risk mentally ill person who is also struggling with health issues rn and it has made me very depressed. I don’t know what to do other than try and not think about this event

I see in tags that ESC was boycotting I don’t watch because I am in America and they don’t stream it there, I watched last years but not the entire thing so I don’t know if I missed something in it? I had no intention of watching maybe only clips or peoples highlights reels truthfully I don’t have the energy to sit through a long show like that anyway

I see in tags that this is because of Israel competing and I also am mad about that I just don’t know what I personally did to warrant some people’s anger??? I don’t watch the show I made my art many days ago I don’t even get what is going on???

As I said that the beginning I haven’t made a text post in a long time I don’t really interact with anyone here so I don’t know what I even did wrong????

Please stop sending me hateful thing s I haven’t even said anything to anyone in this fandom, all I do it read the nice reblogs from people in my tags on my art I am too nervous to talk to anyone anyway

I feel like crying I’m so sorry if I hurt peoples feelings I swear I’m not trying to do anything except draw pictures of things I like and ideas in my head. I have been so happy seeing people like my art and this is like a huge shift from people and it’s really scary

Sorry if this post is long and rambling and confusing I am feeling very sick and am not okay mentally

[builtbybrokenbells]

belladonna | ii

Too beautiful to resist, and too deadly to survive; the tragic tale of belladonna in all its glory.

Masterlist | Taglist

Pairing: Danny Wagner x f!reader, f!reader x OC

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: mentions of toxic/abusive parents, mentions of/toxic relationships, gaslighting/manipulative phrases, arguing/fighting, mentions of criminal activity/criminal records, poverty, mentions of physical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of AA/NA, addictions, use of/mentions of drugs, mentions of relapsing, mentions of OD, mentions of drinking, flirting, mentions of hookups/sex, smoking, depression/anxiety, mental health struggles, swearing, sorry if I miss any!!

hi lovelies 🤍 back again with some more belladonna… been going through some things and this story has been a fantastic outlet for me. i hope you’re all liking it so far. as always, enjoy, be kind and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

April 4th, 2022

Your fingers trembled as you held your phone in your hand, your stomach positively sick with anxiety as you wished you never sent the message at all. You wracked your brain for answers on why you were so stupid as you re-read the message a million times.

Was it too forward? Was he just being nice and didn’t actually want you to text him? Why were so naïve to believe someone like him would actually like someone like you?

You

So you really want to hear about Utah, huh?

‘What a fucking stupid thing to say.’ You cursed yourself, wondering if maybe there was an unsend option on the text. As you fumbled around, looking for an easy way out of the hole you had just dug for yourself, you debated throwing your phone out the window and skipping town, just to never chance the opportunity to run into him again. As you paced your living room, questioning every single life choice you’d ever made, your phone buzzed in your hand.

All of a sudden, the noise seemed to disappear. The never ending buzz of anxious thoughts slowed to a stop, and your hands turned clammy. You were so nervous that your brain had short circuited, and not even the relentless overthinking remained.

Somehow, the silence seemed worse than the sound of your own mind.

Unknown

I do.

Unknown

Always thought it was nothing but mormons and beehives, but now I know that incredibly beautiful girls live there, too.

Unknown

Well, used to, anyway. Maybe you were the only interesting thing about the place.

The triple text would normally send you running, but coming from him, it felt like winning the lottery. You could not contain the smile on your face as you typed back a response, the nervous jitters suddenly turning into excitement.

You

I’ll tell you whatever you wanna know, but you’ll have to tell me about Michigan, too.

You

All I know is that Detroit is a shithole, and you gave us Stevie Wonder.

Unknown

Tough crowd. Guess I’ll have to change your mind about it.

You

You can try, but I can’t make any promises.

Unknown

I’ll have to make it good, then.

You

Seems so, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting ;)

April 21st, 2022

“You think John is ever going to fix this lousy fuckin’ window?” Vincent grumbled, dropping the roll of tape in his hand for the tenth time. You rolled your eyes, bending down to pick it up for him. Before responding, you climbed in the booth beside him, leaning into him and holding the plastic wrap straight. He turned his head down towards you, giving you a smile at the close proximity. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t need to; you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“He was going to, and then they told him it would be two thousand dollars.” You reminded him, watching as he ripped the tape between his teeth. He reached upwards, taping down the top corner and securing it in place. “So the plastic will have to do.”

“For a sheet of glass? Are they in-fuckin’-sane?” He placed down another sheet of duct tape, and you let your arms fall back to your sides.

“Who knew it would be so expensive for some sand?” You chuckled, flattening out the bottom corner so he could do the same thing with it. He paused for a moment, his face contorting into an expression of confusion. For a second, his head cocked to the side as he tried to relate the two topics.

“Sand?” You looked up at him, confused at his confusion.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, giving a small nod. “That’s how glass is made.”

“You’re messing with me,” he said, weary of your words. Your lips upturned into a small smile, but you shook your head.

“No, I swear to it.” You promised, finding his surprise oddly charming. You did not mind that Vincent didn’t always know what you were talking about, and you never minded having to explain it to him. Making him feel bad about not knowing something would not get either of you anywhere, and educating him on it was a fun little pastime. He didn’t graduate high school, and he thought you were a genius; it was a win-win for both of you, as you got to feel smart, and he got to learn something new. After a moment, he began to tape down the next corner.

“Huh,” he muttered to himself, taking in all that you were telling him. “That’s… kind of cool, actually. Guess I never really had to know how glass is made.” You gave a small shrug, sliding out of the booth and on the other side. You stood, holding the sheet taut so it wouldn’t sag. He got in behind you, certainly a little closer than he needed to, but you didn’t say a word. As of late, Vincent had been awfully distant, and you felt guilty in admitting that you missed him. Maybe not the relentless flirting, but definitely the constant company.

In truth, you hadn’t reached out to him much, either. The conversation in the kitchen paired with your ogling of Danny had driven a stake between you two. Well, that, and the fact that you had taken Danny up on his offer to talk about Utah the minute you got home from that fateful afternoon shift. Since then, you’d spent an awful amount of time texting him, and when the time allowed for it, calling him. When you weren’t preoccupied with him, your nose was buried in a journal, and your fingers were clasped around a pen. It seemed as though the minute Danny stepped into your life, your desire to write hit you with a new-found force.

When you weren’t writing or calling Danny, your weekly Narcotics Anonymous meetings filled the empty time slots, and of course, your shifts at the Fox. For once, your life seemed pleasantly balanced with work and play, and the play was finally enjoyable. In the last three weeks, your free time had grown into something you cherished rather than something you coped with; as you always liked to say, spare time was the mentally ill’s biggest enemy. Three weeks ago, when you weren’t working, you sat in your apartment most nights, tapping your foot against the floor or rolling around in bed to pass the time. Freedom was a curse to someone who’s only ever known how to abuse it. Your shifts at the Foxhole were your favorite part of the day, because it ensured you would get to socialize (even if it was rude bickering with Katie), that you would have something to eat, and most of all, you would have a distraction.

Eighteen months of (rocky) sobriety had taught you one thing: after so long living life a certain way, you had no idea what to do with yourself now that you could not give in to the temptation of substance.

Aside from drinking, you had cut out every other illicit substance that you could think of, and even when you drank, you had to be incredibly mindful of how much you consumed, and more specifically, how often you consumed it. Although alcohol was not your biggest vice, it was a habit that you did not need to take to. Plus, it was a certain pathway to even worse decisions, and you were not wealthy enough to afford any bad decisions. Now that you were living your life so straight, it brought up some hard truths, the biggest being that you had no idea who you were when you were not high, or desperately searching for one. For a very long time, until you could find that piece of yourself again, being alone with your own thoughts was equal to torture.

Now, you had found a spark of life in the company of a certain curly headed boy who made your heart do backflips when he said your name.

He did not solve all of your issues, and you never expected him to. He did, however, make them a whole lot easier to digest. His joyful voice and his sweet words were addicting, more so than any substance you had ever tried, and his happiness was infectious. You had spent so long believing that all you knew how to feel was misery, but since meeting him, you wondered if maybe misery was not your only friend, but rather the very thing you chose to surround yourself with. One thing you had learned about yourself was that you were incredibly impressionable, and that was evident in many of your life choices. As of recent, you began to wonder if your misery came from yourself, or if it bled into you from the people you allowed yourself to be around.

It was a tough topic, and an answer was not certain; perhaps you were just excited about having someone around that made you feel things that only substance knew how to do, and maybe that was why you were so happy. Yes, before Danny, life was bleak, and the people constantly surrounding you were known to be negative and pessimistic (and that was putting it lightly), but you still chose to believe that Vincent and Dylan were not the source of your misery, for you had felt it long before they showed up in your life. No matter which it was, you still cared deeply about them and wanted to spend time with them, but you did have to admit that the lack of constant anger and emotion was very nice. Plus, it was always a bonus when you weren’t tripping over yourself to clean them up after a bar fight, or break down their front door to drag them to NA with you.

“Where’ve you been, anyway?” Vincent asked, stretching his arms upwards to run a long line of tape across the edge of the plastic film covering the window. As if on instinct, your eyes drifted downwards to the flash of a toned stomach peeking out from under his black shirt. You swallowed hard, forcing your eyes away from him and reminding yourself that you absolutely, under no circumstance, could give in to that temptation.

“What do you mean?” You avoided the topic as if it were the plague. He made sure that the covering of the window was airtight, giving a huff of satisfaction as he looked it over. A few weeks ago, a couple of kids thought it would be funny to throw rocks at windows, but did not seem to understand the implications of their actions. Now, you were all suffering from the frigid weather seeping in through the shattered glass.

“Haven’t seen much of you, lately.” You climbed down from the booth, steadying yourself on your feet before turning to face him again. You gave a shrug, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’ve been writing a lot.” You admitted, a small smile tugging at your lips. He looked back over his shoulder, his brown curls sweeping down over his forehead and falling into his line of sight. His eyes were happy, as if the statement had given him his daily dose of hope. The world seemed right when you were writing, but you feared if he knew the truth behind your motivation, it would break his heart beyond recognition.

“It’s Thursday night.” He stated, straightening up for a moment. “Did you bring anything?”

“It is,” you nodded slowly, reaching into your apron. You pulled out one of the things inside, and his smile grew at the sight of a ripped out journal page. “How could I forget?”

“Shall we begin?” He asked, motioning to the empty dining room. The night was dark outside, and you did not expect any customers for the foreseeable future. Katie was ‘sick’ again, to no one’s surprise, and Dylan was only half-occupied with emptying the grease traps under the grill. You could see him lazily working through the kitchen window, too uninvolved in the moment to realize you were both staring at him.

Every Thursday night was always a safe bet for your own homemade version of slam poetry. Katie was almost always ‘sick’, and the boys were always looking for an excuse to get out of working (not like they were ever over-exerting themselves, anyway). Over a year ago, they had found out the real reason you’d moved to the city, and since then, they had done everything in their power to encourage you to keep going. They were your biggest fans, and although your work was extremely personal to you, you found a happy medium to share it with them comfortably. When the evening rush died down, you took post on a booth, dramatically recounting whatever torturous things that had been ravishing your brain. By doing this, it ensured you would always write enough to form a single poem, and it fulfilled their need to be included in the process.

Some weeks, it was funny blurbs about the pigeons fighting over an empty dime bag in the parking lot of the Pony, or the mice on the subway dragging dropped food three times their size. Other times, it was heavier, and much more meaningful; stories about your own recovery, or your family’s devastatingly bad relationships with each other. Oftentimes, you took symbolism from sitting in the nearly empty hall during NA meetings, sipping at bitter, cold coffee while listening to people tell stories of how badly they fucked their own life up. Other times, you drew inspiration from your audience’s very own struggle, to which they never seemed to catch on to.

You tried to keep the heavier topics few and far between, because they were just that. When the words were in the air, it laid heavy over the three of you. Misery was a concrete blanket that all of you had grown comfortable underneath, but it did not mean you liked to exist within it constantly. But, every now and again, you realized that sharing something with substance was exactly what your heart craved, and you ripped out a page all about your own suffering to share with the world for a moment.

Tonight was that night, and after weeks of meaningless conversation about the birds and the leaves on trees, you knew you had to share something with meaning. Before work that night, you grabbed a poem to share, but it was not without great hesitation. You had no problem talking about your own journey with sobriety, or your Narcotics Anonymous escapades. You did not even care about discussing your gruesome experiences in the detox room in the county hospitals, nor the mornings waking up with shaking limbs and sweaty skin. That was something the other two knew, and what they had seen of you already. You were not sharing anything that they did not know about, and if anything, you were sharing something that could directly relate to them, and something that carved the very foundation of your friendships.

The poem you had chosen tonight was none of those things, and instead about the thing in the world you hated talking about most; your mother.

Of course, they knew bits and pieces of your own tragedies, and they understood the grand aspect of your miserable childhood, but she was a monster in your closet that was bigger than all of the others, and she was one you were so afraid of that it nearly paralyzed you.

So why had you chosen such a touchy topic?

That was the begging question, after all, but that was an answer you did not have. Sometimes, the pain was so large that it seemed to engulf every other feeling or emotion in your body, and it felt like if you did not get it off your chest, you would explode and become nothing, just like she always expected of you. Instead of letting it consume you, you decided to speak it aloud, and hopefully by doing so, ease some of the discomfort that was steadily accumulating in your chest.

Well, that, and it was nearly her birthday, and birthdays are the absolute fucking worst.

“Dylan!” Vincent shouted, barrelling a balled up rag through the kitchen window. It knocked Dylan in the top of the head, not causing any harm, but definitely catching him off guard. He looked up, shocked at the sudden outburst, pausing the music playing from his smashed up phone.

“The fuck was that for?”

“It’s Thursday night,” he said in a tone that seemed like he was begging for a fight. “Get the fuck out here and listen to the lady read her poem.” Dylan’s eyes lit up as if he’d almost forgotten, too. He threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder, covering one strap of his torn, dirty white tank top. He took a step towards the swinging door, and moved to join you in the dining room. He grabbed a chair from a table, moving it in front of the booth you were standing at, then swinging it around and sitting down. Vincent gave a nod of approval, a small smile forming on his lips as he turned his head towards you.

Vincent and Dylan were friends, but under the surface, you knew it ran much deeper than that. They were brothers, and although they were not born from the same family, they understood each other better than their own kin. They fought, and arguing was almost their only form of communication, but it was meaningful to them. Their harsh words were not meant to harm, but rather because that was the only way they knew how to express themselves. Their addictions and attitudes made them more alike than even they could even comprehend, and you knew that despite the troubles that landed them in their current position, they would always have each other to lean on.

“What do you have for us tonight, doll?” Dylan asked, leaning his chest into the back of the chair, showing you his attention was only on you. You sat down on the edge of the booth table, the poorly secured plastic wrap on the window giving you a luminescent background. The moonlight scattered across the rippled material, sending waves of white light through the dining room. You left the main lights off almost always, because the fluorescent bulbs were nothing but a further irritant to your already bothered mind. The outside streetlights and moon worked on one side of the dining room, and the kitchen lights filled in the other side. John didn’t care, because your habit seemed to cut loads of money off of his electricity bills.

“I have,” you started, unfolding the paper as you cleared your throat for dramatic effect. “A tragic tale about seeing the parts you hate most about your mother in your reflection when you look in a mirror.”

“Oh?” Vincent asked, raising an eyebrow. That was definitely not what he had expected to come out of your mouth, but he wasn’t necessarily unhappy about it. He knew how much it bothered you, and how little you cared for talking about it.

“Guess all of that misery always comes back to the same thing.” You muttered.

“Don’t make me cry, Angel, cause that’ll be a poor sight for all of us to see.” Dylan warned, a joking smile on his lips. That was one reason you loved to share your sadness with them; it was always lighthearted, because they knew sympathy was not what you needed. If you wanted a shoulder to cry on, you would go to a therapist and allow them to tell you how it wasn’t your fault, and you were so strong for ensuring what you did. You broke up the monotony of depression with laughter and insults towards the subject of the conversation, and sometimes even each other. It helped you swallow down the pain that always seemed to be stuck in your throat, and it was the only thing that helped you move on.

“Don’t be a fucking pussy.” Vincent scoffed, rolling his eyes. Dylan shot him a look of warning, reaching one arm out and giving him a forceful shove. Vincent stumbled slightly, as he’d always been the smaller of the two, and his eyes darkened with anger in a split second. Instead of jumping forward and fighting back, he took a moment to realize the situation. He deemed his desire to hear your writing more important than defending himself, and instead took a deep breath, steadying himself and planting his feet firmly on the ground. He looked at you, forcing a pleasant expression as he tried to reassure you of his intent to listen.

You could never tell him, but in those few seconds, you were proud of him. You wished he could demonstrate that ability more often, but critical thinking was never Vincent’s forte.

“Are the judges ready?” You asked, changing the topic before he had too much time to dwell. Or, perhaps you were trying to avoid the emotion blossoming in your chest for Vincent. Either way, you knew it was best to move on and move forward, because neither outcome to the situation was ideal. When faced between falling further for Vincent, or him doing something that would ultimately force you out of love, it was a lose-lose.

“Whenever you are, sweetheart.” Vincent said, leaning against the counter as he waited for you to begin. You took a deep breath, crossing your ankles as you tried to calm your nerves. You held the paper in your shaking hands as you began to read the first line.

“Born from the very heart that was destined to be my demise,

I stand in front of the mirror and wonder if I have my mothers eyes.” You started, looking up over the top of the crumpled shirt to gauge the reaction. Dylan’s face was stony, as if he was trying to process the words without any emotion getting in the way. Vincent looked as if he wanted to speak, but shook his head at himself and looked towards the ground. He wanted to argue, to denounce the idea and assure you that you were nothing like her, but he knew it was not his place, even if he wished it was.

“Walking the earth that I now know not to touch

Tell me, how do I navigate this wasteland without a mothers crutch?”

“It is a fuckin’ wasteland, isn’t it?” Dylan interjected, smiling to ease the tension. You gave a nod of agreement, chuckling slightly before you continued on.

“For she has told me that all I know is ruin,

and that I have such catastrophic feelings

for such a tiny human.” You took in a shaky breath, the line hitting you harder than you thought it would after saying it aloud. You looked up again, catching Vincent’s eyes for a moment. He had a small look of confusion on his face, but seemed as though he didn’t want to speak. After a while, he eventually aired out his thoughts.

“You’re not tiny, though.” He said, cocking his head to the side. “I mean, not like that, but you’re… You’re a regular sized adult.” You let out a small giggle, finding the interjection a good source of comedic relief.

“It’s a metaphor, dumbass. Her mom makes her feel tiny, she doesn’t mean she’s actually tiny.” Dylan explained, sparking another nerve in Vincent. “Right?” He looked back to you for clarification.

“That’s a good point, Dyl.” You complimented him, pondering the idea. “I meant it more like she was telling me that when I was a little kid, but I like that too.” You smiled.

“Shove it, you fuckin’ know it all.” Vincent sneered, but it was playful. You laughed at the banter. One thing you absolutely adored about the Thursday night routine was that it not only allowed you to share your work with people who cared, but also seemed to teach them a little more about the craft you loved so deeply. Neither of them finished high school, and it was something that bothered them deeply, even if they didn’t say it aloud. You could see the frustration, especially in Vincent, when he couldn’t understand the figurative language and literary devices you were using. With time, you saw the frustration turn into curiosity, and it made your heart soar with joy. “Anyway, continue.” He said, smiling. You gave a nod, happy to move on as a collective.

“With backhanded attitude, she convinces me that the monster in the closet

Is none other than my own avid imagination, and that I am my own worst enemy

When I point my finger at her to correct the blame, she laughs as if I have it misconstrued.” You spoke slowly, allowing them to grasp on to every word. When they had no further input aside from nods and hums of agreement, you began again.

“But that I am not, and I know I have never been

The monster does not live inside my head,

because—“ you were cut off by the door opening, sending the shrill chime echoing against the walls. Your head whipped around to face the entrance, your heart pounding against your chest. You were so involved in the reading that you almost seemed to forget where you were. You scrambled to stand, ready to shove the paper back in your pocket and pretend the scene had never happened, but then you caught sight of the familiar head of brown, curly hair. When the silhouette of his big nose came into view, your cheeks began burning red for a whole new reason. Danny was standing in the doorway, seemingly curious as to what was going on.

“S-sorry, Danny.” You stuttered, giving a chuckle. “Come in, sit down.” You waved him inside, making sure he knew he was welcome. You were too enthralled in the newest addition of the audience to notice Vincent’s eyes burning holes in your head. He was wondering why you seemed so excited, and how the hell you knew his name. He could have picked Danny out from a crowd of thousands, because after seeing your awe-struck expression at the sight of his face only a few weeks prior, Vincent had been positively sick with worry. He was flooded with jealousy, but more than that, he was terrified he would lose you, even if he did not technically have you.

“No, actually.” Danny shook his head, smirking at your crimson cheeks and desire to move on. He looked at the paper in your hand, quickly piecing the scene together. He remembered you saying you were a writer, and he was itching to hear some of your work. “I think you should keep going.”

“W-what?” You asked, clearly flustered and definitely not expecting to hear that.

“Keep reading,” he said, giving you a smile. “Unless you aren’t looking for a bigger audience. If that’s the case, I can wait outside.” He offered, but you knew he was all but serious. He wanted to hear whatever you had down on that paper, and he wouldn’t walk away without a fight.

“No, it’s okay.” You assured him.

“Okay, proceed.” He chuckled, leaning against the wall as he waited for you to continue. You nodded, forcing your eyes away from him and back to the paper. The nervous ticks you had already conquered made their way back with a new found force, and now there was a quiver in your voice when you spoke, too. You could barely hold the paper still, and you were forcing the words out, but you continued on despite the fact.

“But that I am not, and I know I have never been

The monster does not live inside my head,

because when I look for too long

I begin to notice her skin turn red

In the daylight she has a smile as warm as the sun,

But at night, behind closed doors,

her eyes blacken

and I have nowhere to run.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Dylan nodded, giving a hum of approval. He was so invested in the storytelling that he had leaned forward over the back of the chair without even noticing it. His elbow was propped on the edge of the chair, his palm holding his head up as he clung to every word.

“You think?” You smiled, intrigued at his fascination. “I was actually going to change that part. I didn’t like it very much.”

“No, keep it.” Vincent cut in, not willing to debate the idea. You couldn’t read the expression on his face; it was unfamiliar, and you weren’t sure if it was because of Danny leaning against the wall, joining in on a normally intimate exchange, or if it was because of the words you were reading aloud. “He’s right, it’s really good.” He cleared his throat, ridding the room of the awkward silence. You looked towards Danny, who also gave a nod. His eyes told you that you’d taken him by surprise, and that when you told him you were a writer, he did not expect such words to come from your mind.

Then again, Danny only seemed to know you as a little ball of sunshine, and unfortunately, that was far from the truth. You only hoped that after he knew of the bad, he would still be keen on being friends. Or, hopefully, maybe even more.

“Alright, last verse.” You announced, looking back down at your hands. “Ready?”

“Always.” Vincent answered for everyone, his eyes focused only on you. As much as he wanted to sneer in Danny’s direction, he knew his attention would be most useful when it was directed towards you. Plus, he wasn’t sure if there was anything to be defensive about, but he still felt the need to be, anyway. When it came to you, he was always on the defensive.

“My mother the Angel, who has given her life for mine

I never care to speak out, because she’s left me without a spine

Who often talks praise about her generosity

But refuses to acknowledge that she is a monstrosity.” You paused, briefly looking up to see the reaction. When nobody spoke, you continued. “I am her daughter, and that I will always be; i cannot call her on her evil, because it also exists within me

I am her rage, her fear and her fire

All that I am is that in which I cannot rewire

All that I hate has become my own fate

When I look in the mirror,

I cannot swallow my own distaste.

I have become what I despise the most

My life is her own wicked puppet show

And I have become the morbid host.”

The silence that hung over the room was heavy, but not uncomfortable. The whole world seemed still as the four of you processed the intensity of the emotion, and it even seemed for a second that the moon had stopped casting light inside. Eventually, you folded the paper up and stuck it in your apron, slowly turning your head upwards and unfortunately, looking at Vincent first. You always looked for him first. As much as you did not want to be with him, you could not help but feel drawn to him. You wanted it to stop, but you couldn’t seem to break the habit.

Unfortunately for you, habit-breaking had never been your area of expertise.

His head was pointed towards the floor, and when he noticed your staring and looked to meet your gaze, you knew why. Even from the distance, and in the dim light, you could see the shine of tears brimming his eyes. You swallowed hard, trying to process the emotion from him. Vincent was a man who refused to give in to vulnerabilities, yet he stood before you in a room with two other men, unashamed of the sadness plaguing him. His heart ached for the little girl who was hurt so badly, and his chest hurt at the sight of the woman who was still standing despite the suffering. Of course, he had no idea how to voice such profound feelings, so he just cleared his throat and gave a curt nod.

You wished for a moment that he could have spoken all that his heart was telling him, but as always, he did not. Maybe if he did, things would be different, but it reminded you that Vincent would always be exactly what he was; a man who could not comprehend change, and a creature of habit that could not fathom anything other than what he was used to. It was not his abundance of action that drove the two of you apart, but rather his lack of. He showed no interest in bettering himself, and his lack of trying made it harder and harder for you to want to fight for him. You knew that he could be what you needed, but he did not want to be. You could not fix him, and he did not know how to fix himself, nor did he want to learn how. Because of this, he was inadvertently forcing you to move on.

Even so, your heart ached, and your desire to love him grew stronger as you watched him blink his tears away. He was worse than the drugs you were trying to stay away from; he was more addicting, more dangerous, and definitely more disastrous. Loving him would do all the same things as relapsing, and it would kill you ten times faster. You hated that when you turned your head to look at Danny, you felt none of those feelings or fears. Instead, a flutter of excitement ran through you and instead of the usual dread, hope seemed to take its place. It hurt you to know that despite barely knowing Danny at all, you knew he would be the best person to you. Wanting to explore the possibilities made you feel dirty, but you were tired of constantly denying yourself the simple pleasures in life.

You had wasted eighteen months waiting for Vincent to change, and it would be unfair to yourself to pass up a good opportunity in hopes that he would become what you wanted. Not only would it be unfair to you, but to Danny too, who seemed undeniably interested in you. You could not wait for something that may never happen, and you certainly did not want to miss out on the opportunity of knowing Danny, because he appeared to be everything you were searching for when you moved to the city. Even if it was with a heavy heart, moving on was the best thing for everyone.

“So, what do you think?” You breathed, looking between the three.

“I don’t know how you’re not famous yet,” Dylan said, shifting in his chair as he spoke. “I think the whole world should hear that, doll.” Your lips pulled into a small smile and your cheeks heated with a blush.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously, sweetheart. He’s not joking.” Vincent agreed, nodding slowly. “It’s… real, and it’s good. You were meant to write. There’s more emotion in that than I’ve probably ever felt.”

“Thanks, Vin.” You gave him a soft smile, lingering over his face for a moment longer than you should have. He was looking at you too, hoping you would say something more, to invite him to keep flattering you, but you didn’t.

“I think you might have played your talent down a little too much.” Danny said, standing up straight from his spot against the wall. You looked over to him, nervous about what was running through his head. “For someone who only writes every now and then, that was pretty damn good.” Your cheeks were crimson, incriminating of all you felt for him. It was the first time you had seen him face to face since your first encounter, and he was just as beautiful as you remembered, even in the dull night light.

“Maybe I lied,” you shrugged, giving a small chuckle. “I write a lot, actually.”

“When you write like that, it would be a shame not to do it all of the time.” He explained, now stepping closer to you. The smell of his cologne hit you with a strength that made your head spin; it was delicious, not too heavy or woody, almost fresh and light smelling. It fit his bright personality, and the minute it reached your nose you wanted more.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You brushed him off, the smile still lingering on your lips. “What are you here for, anyway? Like I said last time, I know it’s not the food.”

“Is it a crime to come here? You’re not selling the place very well.” He joked, now within an arm's reach. Your conversation was so enthralling that you seemed to forget the presence of the other two boys, one more so than the other watching the interaction carefully.

“Yeah, cause there’s a whole lot to sell.” You laughed, motioning around the room. “The broken window and the rotten foundation gives it charm, eh?”

“I think you could sell anything, sunshine.” He smirked. “Mind if I have a seat?” He asked, nodding his head towards the booth that you were sitting atop.

“Of all the places to sit, you want to sit here?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Well duh,” he chuckled, “cause it’s closest to you.”

At that, you were certain Vincent turned as red as the sun. His blood was boiling and his fists were clenched to his sides as he bargained with himself to stay calm. He wanted you to look over at him, to see the agony he was in while watching you flirt with another man, but you did not once stray away from Danny’s heavy stare and flirtatious smile.

“If that’s the case,” you teased, giving him a small nod. “I’m sure it would be alright.”

“Thank you,” he chuckled, sliding in the booth. He kept his eyes on you, hoping you would remain sitting at the edge of the table. He wasn’t shy to admit that he liked the sight of you, and the position was allowing him to see much more of you than he expected to see that night. You did just that, turning your head over your shoulder to look at him again.

“You gonna introduce us to your friend?” Dylan asked, clearly oblivious to Vincent’s volatile anger and the reasoning behind it. He was intrigued at the chemistry between you and Danny, and excited to finally see a smile on your face that was not laced with a hint of sadness. Your head snapped towards him, coming to reality and realizing that you were not alone with Danny, even if you wished to be.

“Right, sorry.” You chuckled, giving your head a shake, embarrassed at your own lack of manners. “This is Danny, I met him the other day when I worked the afternoon shift.”

“After you were too scared to introduce yourself the night before?” Dylan teased, hoping to get a reaction out of you. Your jaw dropped slightly, shocked at his bold statement. Suddenly, you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you as you fought the urge to reach out and strangle him.

“Shut up,” you snipped, your face burning with heat as you prayed that the conversation would not continue in the same direction.

“Oh?” Danny asked, looking up at your blushing face with curiosity.

“She didn’t tell you?” Dylan chuckled, clearly still trying his best to get under your skin. “She was head over heels when you walked in that night, but she was too scared to say hi.”

“Interesting,” Danny chuckled, finding your embarrassment endearing. He thought the whole idea was quite cute. “She didn’t say a word about that.”

“Anyway,” you cleared your throat dramatically, begging to change topics. “Danny, this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you, man.” Dylan laughed, finding your tone of voice funny. He loved bothering you, and if you had to admit, he was damn good at it, too.

“You too.” Danny grinned. You were devastated at the idea that he had the ability to get along with anyone. Everything you seemed to learn about him made the feelings grow stronger in your chest, and you knew it was much too early to be so infatuated with him.

“And that’s Vincent.” You pointed at the boy standing beside Dylan, finally noticing the veins in his forehead and the tense muscles in his jaw. You tried to catch his eye, but his stare seemed set on Danny, now.

“You decided to come back here after trying the shit food?” Vincent asked, trying to pass his question off as a joke, but you could tell his tone was off. He wanted to know everything and anything about the relationship the two of you seemed to form, starting at the very beginning.

“I didn’t think it was that bad,” Danny shrugged, chuckling quietly. He seemed to sense the tension, but was doing his best to keep it minimal.

“He thinks I’m a good cook,” Dylan said, smirking as he nudged Vincent in the side. He didn’t respond, instead continuing to stare at the newest member of the group.

“And you guys met on your day shift?” He asked, turning his head towards you, now. You swallowed hard, trying to hide your nervousness. You gave a nod, praying that he wouldn’t overreact to the innocent nature of the situation.

“Yeah, he came back and we ran into each other. Guess it was just a little coincidence that I got called in.” Vincent gave a slow nod as you shrugged off the idea, taking in all of the information.

“Yeah, isn’t that just fan-fuckin’-tastic.” Vincent forced out a smile, scoffing slightly at his own words. He watched you for a moment longer, waiting to see if you would say anything that would calm his mind, but he grew tired of waiting. You had nothing to say, and it hurt him further the longer he waited. Without any further comments, he turned on his heel and walked towards the kitchen. After a moment of silence, the back door slammed behind him, and you closed your eyes to rid yourself of the regret that came along with it.

Just because you could not be with Vincent did not mean that you felt good about hurting him.

“Wonder what his problem is,” Dylan muttered, looking back over his shoulder in the direction Vincent had just stormed off to.

“No idea,” you lied, looking down towards the ground.

“He’ll get over himself, he always does.” Dylan sighed, standing up and stretching out his arms. “You gettin’ something to eat, or just here to see her?” Dylan asked Danny, raising an eyebrow.

“Just here to see her.” He admitted.

“Alright, man.” Dylan nodded. “Gonna go finish cleaning those traps. I might be finished by the time the sun comes up.” You chucked, nodding in agreement.

“You deserve a raise for that alone.” You said, watching as he placed the chair back in its original spot.

“Gotta pass the time somehow.” He shrugged, pulling the towel from his shoulder and walking back towards the kitchen. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“You know I will!” You called back, drumming your fingers against your leg. Now that the other two had gone, the idea of being alone with Danny was making you anxious. Never had the two of you been face to face in such seclusion. After a moment of silence, Danny spoke first.

“I take it you do know why Vincent’s upset?” He asked, leaning back in the booth. You kept your head down, looking at your legs as you tried to formulate a response. He was suspicious, and rightfully so. The entire exchange was quite interesting, and definitely telling of the relationship between you two.

“I do, but it’s not what you’re thinking.” You assured him, sliding off the table and into the seat across from him. “It’s a long story.”

“Is everything a long story with you?” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. A sad smile crossed your lips, because he was right. Everything in your life was a long story, and none of them ever pleasant. He noticed the sadness encasing your features, worried he might have overstepped. “I didn’t realize you were seeing someone. I'm sorry if I took it too far.” You reached across the table, landing a gentle hand on his wrist as you shook your head.

“I told you, it’s not what you’re thinking.” You promised, heaving a sigh. “And yeah, everything certainly does seem to be a long story.” You smiled, pushing away the emotion and covering it up. “When I first moved here, we were… something, but definitely not dating. It was pretty obvious from the start that the two of us didn’t have the same outlook on life.” You explained it in the gentlest terms possible.

“So not dating, just complicated?” He asked, trying to get a better grasp on the situation.

“Complicated for sure, but I think mostly on his part.” You said, looking up to meet his eyes. “I’m not that type of person, and I wouldn’t have led you on if I was caught up with someone else.” It was only partially true; yours and Vincent’s story would never fully end, but something with Danny might help it grow closer to closure.

“I never thought you were, but you never know, right?” He chuckled, enjoying that you were looking at him now. He was stunning, and it was making it hard for you to think of anything other than his smiling face. Your hand was still lingering on his arm, and he didn’t seem keen on changing the fact.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “You never know.” He was right, even if it did make you feel dirty to be perceived in such a light. Two timing was not something that you would do, even if most other things were, but you could understand why the thought ran through his head.

“So single, and interested?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Single, and definitely interested.” You nodded, your cheeks heating slightly as he smiled down at you. You could not comprehend how someone could be so beautiful, nor how someone like him could have so much interest in you. “After all, you did come here just to see me, and I haven’t told you to leave yet.” You smirked, calling him on his earlier comment.

“At least I wasn’t the one too shy to say hello.” He argued back, his tone light and his eyes playful.

“Didn’t matter much anyway, cause we’re here now.” You giggled, dismissing the idea. “I like you, Michigan.” He let out a low laugh at the sound of the nickname.

“I like you too, Utah.” He reiterated the sentiment, looking out the plastic covered window for a moment. “I’m happy you texted me. Was worried you thought I was a loser.”

“I’m happy I did too. I was scared you thought I was stupid.”

“I gave you the number for a reason, sunshine.” He recalled, looking back at your face. He took a few moments to study the details, finding himself enthralled in all of the things he did not have the opportunity to notice before. The way your dark eyelashes swooped down over your under eyes when you blinked, standing prominently against your skin. The way your nose angled down, sharp yet rounded perfectly at the tip. He noticed a dust of blush across the tip, matching the makeup you’d swiped onto your cheeks. He noticed your lips, soft and inviting despite the dryness from the cold air outside. Further than that, he saw scars littered over your skin, what looked to be from acne but he couldn’t be certain. You were young, vibrant looking, yet there was a certain wisdom held deep in the features of your face.

He thought you were stunning, and every time he looked too closely, you seemed to take his breath away.

He wanted to be closer, to study even more than he could see from the short distance between you. He wanted to connect the constellations of freckles over the bridge of your nose and he wanted to memorize the specs of color offsetting the main hue of your irises. He needed more, but he knew he could not have that yet. Meeting you on his first day in New York told him that the trip was going to be everything he hoped for and more; a breath of fresh air, and a new perspective on life. When he noticed your sweet smile and witty humor, he realized that the city was exactly what he needed to start fresh, and you were the very thing that would help him do so. The texts and limited phone calls shared between the two of you over the last week and a half was not enough for him, even if it did make him feel selfish.

He wanted to know why a girl from Utah would rather be far away from home, struggling to pay rent with a disappointing paycheck from a shitty diner. He wanted to know why you felt the need to travel across the country to write stories and poems, and why you seemed so adamant about never going back. The desire was more than a feeble want, but rather a desperate need. He’d never stumbled across another person who intrigued him so easily, and he never wanted to let it slip through his fingers. You were a puzzle waiting to be solved, and he would be damned if he was not the one to piece it together.

His curiosity was not one sided, and you too felt the same way about him. You had no idea how a boy from Michigan landed himself on the outskirts of New York City, renting an Airbnb with his best friend for an undisclosed amount of time. You wanted to know his dreams, his hopes, and his fears, because within that, you could find more inspiration to continue writing. He was a breath of fresh air, and different from anyone you’d met since moving to the city. He was kind, polite and respectful. He flirted, but did not overstep. More than anything, he was funny, and he was stunning. Everything about him made you want to be loved by him. You didn’t know him, and he did not know you, but the two of you were dedicated to changing that.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked, breaking the silence you’d fallen into. The question surprised you, but you were happy to answer it.

“Well, I get out of here at six, and I usually sleep until twelve.” You laughed, knowing that the two of you were living on opposite schedules. “I have to be back here tomorrow at six, but other than that, nothing really.”

“You work twelves here?” He asked, curious about the prospect.

“I do,” you nodded. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. I mean, this is what we do all night.” You laughed, motioning around the empty room. “We get the last part of the dinner rush, and usually one around eight or nine, then we just do whatever we want. Every now and again we get a couple rounds of customers, but it’s definitely not too stressful.”

“Probably helps that you work with friends.” He noted, referring to the two boys you’d introduced him to.

“It does.” You nodded. “I mean, I guess this place gave me the friends to work with. When I moved here, I didn’t know anyone.”

“You met them here?”

“Yeah, when I got hired they’d already been here for a while. It was nice to be around people who I could get along with. Makes the whole job a lot less miserable.” You explained, giving him a soft smile. “I don’t hate the job, even if most people would. It pays the bills, and it gets me out of the house. I only work four days a week, so I have plenty of time for other things.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad, then.” He agreed, nodding along with your words. “The overnights don’t mess with your head?”

“No,” you shook your head, being completely honest with him. “I’ve always been a night owl, so I guess I never really thought twice about it.” He hummed in agreement, opting to stay quiet for a moment to process everything you had told him. “So why are you wondering if I’m busy tomorrow?” You smirked.

“I was just wondering,” he smiled, giving a shrug. “Thought maybe you could meet Sam and show us around the city a little bit.”

“Sam? Like the friend you came here with?” He nodded at your words, a hopeful look in his eye.

“He’s a great guy. A lot to handle sometimes, but he’s fun to be around.” He offered, hoping that the idea wasn’t too much for you. “I think you’ll like him.”

“Yeah, I think we could do that.” You agreed, smiling. “That sounds fun, actually.”

“Great,” he sighed, relieved at your enthusiasm. “It’s a date, then.”

“Is it?” You raised an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “Don’t know if I could go on a date with a man I don’t know. I might not even like this Sam guy.” You theorized, teasing him. “Unless you meant the three of us together. Is that your thing?” He let out a laugh at your words, one that came straight from his chest and filled the stale air. It was just as beautiful as you remembered it to be, and you wished you could spend the rest of your life listening to that sound alone.

“I was thinking more like you and me, and he can be a third wheel.” He explained, his eyes twinkling with happiness at the jokes shared between you.

“Oh, I see.” You pretended to understand, as if you had actually missed his intention entirely. “Yeah, that would be alright. Seems kind of mean to him, does it not?”

“He’ll live.” Danny assured you.

“If you say so.” You grinned.

“I promise.”

“Alright,” you breathed, still trying to wrap your head around him wanting to go on a date with you. “It’s settled then. We’ll go on a date, and Sam can follow behind and enjoy the experience.”

“Sounds fantastic. You’ll call me when you wake up?”

“I will.” You nodded, already excited for the next day.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He said, looking over your face one last time. “Before I go, do you have a pen by any chance?” He asked as if he suddenly remembered the most important part of his visit.

“Oh, yeah.” You dug into your pocket, grabbing the one clipped to your order pad. You slid it across the table, and he grabbed a torn piece of paper from his pocket. You watched as he scribbled something down, wondering if he’d brought his own paper just so he could leave you another note. After a moment, he slid the paper and the pen back across the table to you, and stood without any further notice.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Utah.”

“See you tomorrow, Michigan.” You smiled, watching him turn towards the door. As he stepped towards it, wrapping his large hand around the doorknob, he turned to look back at you one last time. You blew him a kiss, subtle but still sweet. He chuckled at your expression as he stepped out the door, wishing he had enough courage to say something more.

When the door closed behind him, you looked down at the paper, feeling your stomach twist with butterflies at the messy handwriting.

Keep writing, Utah. You have what it takes to make it big. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow ♡

- Michigan xx

You could not bite back the smile as you slipped the note into your pocket. Somehow, after all of the misery that life had thrown at you, it seemed as though there was a light at the end of the tunnel, or a rainbow after the storm. Danny was refreshing, and he was captivating. He gave life the sparkle it so often lacked, and he gave you the desire to live, instead of just exist. You no longer felt content with working, sleeping, and forcing yourself through the day. You wanted to jump out of bed and discover all the world had to offer. You wanted to live life the way a twenty-three year old should instead of wasting it away and hoping that the next life would be kinder.

Unfortunately, you did not exist within your bubble of happiness for very long, because a voice with immeasurable disdain cut through the air and caught your attention. “What’s that all about, then?” You looked over to the swinging door separating the kitchen from the dining room, seeing Vincent standing against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face.

“Not much to talk about. We’re friends, Vin. Met him the other day, and he stopped by to say hello.” You shrugged, downplaying the situation in hopes that you would not cause him any more hurt. You could see in his eyes what you had already done to him, and you were desperate to avoid any further damage.

“You say we’re just friends, too.” He offered, refusing to move from his spot on the wall.

“‘Cause we are,” you said, reminding him of the fact.

“Right, how could I ever forget.” He rolled his eyes.

“What’s your point?” You said, your fuse burning closer to the end. He had a fantastic way at making you lose your temper, so much so that you could not even comprehend it.

“Point is, you and I both know we’re far from friends. It might not be perfect, but there’s something there.” He said, trying to keep his cool. “Just sucks when you decide to flirt with someone else right in front of me.”

“You know what my stipulations are, and you don’t want to do it.” You argued, unwilling to take the blame for something that was not solely your fault. “We could have been more than friends, but it seems like you didn’t want that.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, although the situation was humorless. “Forgot, it’s always my fuckin’ fault. Little miss sunshine can’t take the blame for anything.” He grumbled, clearing holding back from all of the things he truly wanted to say. “You didn’t try very hard either, sweetheart. In fact, don’t really think you tried at all.”

“You don’t get to say that,” you shook your head, your cheeks burning with anger. “I tried, and I still do.” You snapped, willing yourself to stay seated even if you wanted to get in up his face and scream everything he’d ever done wrong. “I gave you the chance to get clean a million times, and you won’t do it. Who cleaned you up after every bar fight? Every detox?” You pressed. “Or when you OD’ed? Who sat with you at the hospital, begging you to get better?”

“You’re gonna throw that in my face?” He said, his expression stony. “After everything we’ve been through, you’re gonna use it against me?”

“Point is, Vincent, I did it ‘cause I cared. I did it, and no one else, but you don’t care enough to stop doing it. I’d do it again a million times, but you won’t even try to do what I’m asking.” You blinked hard, knowing that tears were desperate to fall. Your chest was tight and your throat felt like it was constricting around the words as they came out of your mouth. “I can’t wait forever, cause I’ll be dead before I see you sober.”

“Maybe I could if I had a little support instead of you always expecting me to fail.” He argued. Instead of answering, you turned to look away from him, finding the conversation redundant and painful. You’d given him so much support that you were lacking when it came to yourself. You’d taken care of him so much that you neglected to do it for yourself. You couldn’t say it aloud, because you knew it would hurt him too badly. His ego was too fragile, and you would scream and yell only start at the very beginning tomorrow morning with no change. It didn’t get you anywhere, and telling him such would only make him feel responsible for your own relapses.

“You just want to fight, or do you have something worthwhile to say?” You said, tapping the pen against the wood grain of the table.

“You think he’s the one? Really?” He asked, changing subjects again. He didn’t like it when the heat was on him. “Looks like he has a VIP spot at the golf and country club. I bet his parents pay his way through life, and I doubt he even knows what suffering is.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” You scoffed, turning back towards him. “If my parents did that for me, I’d take advantage of it too. You can’t judge a book by its cover, Vincent.”

“Never said it was a bad thing, but you just proved my point.” He said, pointing a finger towards you with a smug smile on his face. It was not one of joy, but rather one that showed how happy he was to be proven right. “You couldn’t imagine what a life like that is like. Your parents would never do that for you. He doesn’t get you, doll, and he never fuckin’ will.”

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing either, Vincent. Maybe I need someone or something that doesn’t get it, so I can have a chance to get away from it.” You explained, praying he would see some kind of reason.

“Or, he’ll think you’re too fucked up and leave you just like the rest of em’. Rich people don’t like struggle, sweetheart, and struggle is all we know how to do.” He shot back, praying you would see his side. “I get it. I get you and what you’ve been through. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“You don’t, though.” You gave a small, breathy laugh. You shook your head as you thought over his words. “We came from the same things, Vin, but you don’t get me. You’re still stuck there, and I’m trying to get away from it.”

“Right,” he gave a slow nod, looking to the floor for a second. “Do what you want, doll. Keep thinkin’ he’s what you need, but I know it’s too much for him. He can’t handle you, and it’s okay to admit that.” He paused, looking back up at your saddened expression. “I can’t stop you, but I’ll be here when you come back crying. I’ll be here when he realizes what he actually got himself into.”

“Fuck you, Vincent.” You spat, your stomach sick at the sound of his words. You hated how vile he turned when his feelings were hurt. He was a man who loved to hurt others in reaction to getting hurt, and he knew how to hurt you better than anyone else. It was hard to love him when he was only himself half of the time. Sometimes you had to wonder if he did it on purpose, or if he was even aware of the damage he was causing.

“You can be mad all you want, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m right.” He said, turning on his heel and walking back into the kitchen. You stared at the spot he once stood, his words still looming over your head and begging to destroy every bit of happiness you’d built up.

You wanted to be angry, to scream at him and throw things and tell him how terrible he was, but you couldn’t. Instead, you sat at the booth, remembering what it felt like when Danny was sitting across from you and how nothing else in the world mattered. Then, you pictured him leaving. You imagined him walking away after you spilled your guts to him about the horrors your life has been. Instead of arguing that Vincent was wrong, you were plagued with the knowledge that it was very likely that he was correct, and there wasn’t a thing in the world you could do about it. You were too much, and you always had been. There were few people in the world who could comprehend what you had been through, and even fewer who were willing to stay. Danny seemed like a breath of fresh air, but you wondered if he still would be even after knowing you completely, or if you would have to hide parts of yourself from him so he would stay.

Maybe, your skies were just a little too dark to ever be graced with the light of a rainbow, and that thought was possibly the most sickening of them all.

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