#i also wanted to avoid any gifs too harsh on the eyes

[munohlow]

Trigger should totally do a faithful Gunnm/Battle Angel anime. Ppl pretty much check out anything they put out so it’d bring the series a lot of attention.

With Edgerunners and Gurren Laggan specifically, they’ve already displayed their balance of brutal chaotic action with cyber dystopian themes and touching emotional beats.

A lot of their designs mesh well with yukito kishiro’s characters and style.

Unless someone else puts in a fat budget for some experimental groundbreaking 3D like in Arcane or Spiderverse and the like, Trigger’s style is always first choice.

The manga is just so good, it’s be cool to see the full long form story retold in their beautiful animation and bring in a ton of new fans (and perhaps sequels to the movie pls it’s also very cool). Plus I wouldn’t hate some updates that cherry pick the better story elements from the existing iterations

[cherienymphe]

Basic Training X (Peter Parker x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, MURDER, violence, kidnapping, captivity, public sex, degradation, forced pregnancy, forced marriage, stockholm syndrome, ptsd, housewife kink, cop!Peter

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @whimsicalrogers​

➥ series masterlist

summary: A pit stop during a road trip ends tragically when a small town cop sets his sights on you. You’re the newest addition in a long standing fucked up family tradition.

~

“Alright. Time’s up, pretty girl.”

You pouted a bit as Peter’s words reached you, signaling to you that you’d been outside long enough and that you’d have to help get breakfast ready soon. You longingly stared at the pond as you stood up, hating how little free time you were allowed. Unlike you, the other women didn’t need someone standing over their shoulder whenever they stepped a foot outside. Clearly Steve or Peter thought there was still a chance you might try and make a run for it.

That opportunity had long passed.

You straightened, brushing some dirt off of your dress before making your way to Peter. The dark-haired man took your hand with a smile, leaning in and brushing his lips over your cheek as he walked you back to the house. Peter did that a lot more as of late. Taking your hand, kissing your face, just touching you in any small harmless way. You didn’t know how to feel about it at first, seeing it more as the price you had to pay to keep Peter so close.

…but just like his presence became a comfort, so did the feel of his hand in yours.

Steve was standing at the back door as you both neared the house, and you held Peter’s hand tighter. You relaxed only slightly when Peter squeezed your hand, and you did your best to avoid Steve’s gaze. Sometimes you wished that you were capable of what Steve clearly thought you were. At least then all of his scrutiny wouldn’t be in vain.

Truthfully, you didn’t know what he expected from you. You were weak. He’d said so himself that day in the basement when he’d decided you couldn’t even last another day. You were nothing like Natasha or even Margaret, something that was a great source of discomfort for you.

“Why do you think you need to be more like Nat?” Peter had asked you one day when you brought it up.

You’d shrugged.

“I just feel…really…pathetic, sometimes,” you’d mumbled, playing with your fingers and avoiding his gaze.

Peter had taken your face into his hands, looking almost sad as you voiced your insecurity. You both knew why you wished you were more like the beautiful redhead, but Peter didn’t say anything about that. He’d simply pressed his lips to your forehead, keeping them there as he talked.

“You’re you, and that’s why I like you,” he’d whispered against your skin. “If I had wanted anyone else…  If I’d wanted someone more like Nat, I would’ve swiped her before Bucky had the chance to.”

That was when you learned that like Jane and Thor, Bucky and Natasha had known each other before this too. Such a thought hurt your heart, and you couldn’t imagine the betrayal she’d felt. Peter had mentioned something about them knowing Natasha since she was a kid, her having grown up in this town too. That level of betrayal had clearly made her heart harden against Bucky in the beginning instead of having some softness for him, leading to her being down in that basement for literal months.

It also explained why Bucky had seemed very upset when he mentioned it.

Natasha was still quiet around you these days, but you couldn’t help but notice that ever since she’d learned the truth about how you were taken, she wasn’t so…harsh. Before, where you could tell that she was that way for your own sake, just wanting you to fall in line for your benefit, now, you could see the patience and understanding in her eyes. They all seemed much more careful around sharp objects, now, having clarity on that incident in the kitchen with the blood.

You didn’t know how to feel about that either.

On the one hand, you didn’t feel so alone anymore. It’s not like you talked about it, but it felt good to be surrounded by people who not only knew what you’d been through, but who also cared. The silent support did make things a little easier. On the other hand, though, you didn’t think that you liked being pitied. You weren’t the only victim in this scenario, and you felt wrong being treated like the only one.

What about Jane who’d liked Thor before he kidnapped her? Or Natasha who’d grown up in this town, who’d grown up with Bucky and the rest, and was betrayed by a man she thought was her friend? Several men that she thought were her friends. To you, their situations seemed just as traumatic.

Even Margaret, whose origin with Steve you didn’t know, still had to live in a perpetual state of fear of being brutally raped by that man for all to see over the smallest of infractions. You helped Laura in the garden as the other woman walked around the property with her daughter. She cooed at her and looked as happy as could be, but you often wondered how much of it was fake for the sake of survival or how much of it was real as a conditioned way of coping? There were many times you leaned towards the latter…

…and there were many times you worried that would be you.

As if you’d conjured him up with your thoughts, you felt familiar hands on your shoulders just as Laura glanced up.

“Hello, Peter.”

The almost robotic way in which they’d all greet Peter anytime he joined you in some household task was almost frightening. Peter allowed you to be so casual with him, and you were reminded of that day he’d snapped at Jane in the greenhouse. It was a reminder that these women probably knew Peter much better than you did. Some of them had lived in this house with him for years, and they knew a whole other side of Peter that you didn’t.

“Laura,” he evenly greeted. “What are you and Y/N planting?”

“Just squash seeds,” she replied. “A personal request from Sam.”

She chuckled as she recalled when Sam had run into you both earlier. He’d seemed very enthusiastic about growing the vegetable, and Peter hummed at that. You felt him rest his chin on your head as you knelt, and if Laura was uncomfortable with his presence, she didn’t show it. You’d kind of gathered that it wasn’t normal for any of the men to be so involved with activities that had been dubbed as something solely for the women in the house.

Peter was just very lenient and accommodating with you.

You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Steve didn’t like it very much. If the blond had it his way, you would’ve been in the basement several times over by now, and any whiny request you made of Peter would’ve been answered with a spanking. That train of thought had a spark of gratitude flowing through you, and absentmindedly, you reached up to cover Peter’s hand on your shoulder with your own.

Laura glanced over at the action, but otherwise said nothing.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

Those were the words you woke up to a few days later, eyes blinking open and face twisting in confusion as Peter’s face materialized before you. He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the bed at your side and the other resting on your stomach, playing with your fingers there. You stared at him in silence for an embarrassingly long amount of time. You heard what he said, but you couldn’t quite make sense of the words.

It was your birthday?

You paused to think back on how many months had passed, and with shock, you realized that Peter was right. It was certainly your birthday month, and while you didn’t keep up with the days as well as you would have liked—they all blended together now—Peter had no reason to lie. In fact, you were sure that Pepper had mentioned the date the other day, and you hadn’t even made the connection that your birthday was fast approaching.

The thought made you…sad.

This time last year, you’d been planning that trip with Wanda and MJ and Pietro. You’d been excited to look back on the memories on your next birthday, probably even planning another one. This time last year, you’d been free and cutting a cake that your mom had baked and cleaning up a mess after Pietro had smashed your face into the icing.

Now…

Now, you were in a prison. Your friends were dead, your mom was alone and probably stressing herself into an early grave over you, and you were staring into the face of the man who’d made it all happen. You were celebrating your birthday in a house that you didn’t want to be in and surrounded by people you didn’t want to be near. The thought made your eyes water, and Peter noticed, his face falling as he straightened.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?” he quietly wondered, touching your chin. “Why are you crying?”

You tried to hold them back, but your tears spilled over against your will, and your lips trembled.

“I shouldn’t be here…”

Realization hit Peter as he sighed.

“I’m supposed to be with my friends,” you tearfully told him. “…and my mom.”

“I know,” Peter breathed, moving closer and pulling you into his arms.

You pressed your face into his chest, trying to hold in your sobs, but it was no use.

“…but I’m here…and you don’t have to lift a finger today…”

Peter’s voice was soft, hopeful, as he tried to cheer you up.

“We can stay outside as much as you want,” he told you, stroking your back. “…or we can stay in here all day. Anything you want.”

You knew that ‘anything’ had limitations to it, but you still pulled away at the mention of being outside all day. Ever since you could, it was all you really wanted to do. Peter’s smile told you that he could see it in your eyes, and he reached up to wipe your face.

“The girls are going to cook your favorite,” he continued, gently cleaning your face. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

It did…and it didn’t, but you nodded anyway.

You were having the hardest time accepting that it was actually your birthday. Even as Peter ran you a bath, something that wasn’t unusual, you still stared at the flower petals in the water in disbelief. When you made it downstairs only to be greeted with well wishes and birthday congratulations, it still didn’t feel real.

Each of the women—and Thor—hugged you, while the rest of the men only cheerfully wished you a happy birthday. It was jarring to see a smile on Steve’s face, and even now, you couldn’t tell if it had been genuine or forced.

You were one year older…and so very far from wiser.

Peter was content to lie in the grass with you by the pond. It was all you really wanted to do, just bask in the fresh air and savor this day before you had to return to household chores and allotted outside time. You could feel Peter playing with your hair and your dress as you laid there, staring at the sky and thinking on how drastically your life had changed in a year.

“What are you thinking about?” Peter asked you. “When you’re not crying or asking me to hold you, you’re so quiet…and I always want to know what you’re thinking.”

You blinked, frowning a bit.

“Just how different things were last year,” you whispered. “I feel like…it’s finally hitting me…that I’m going to be here the rest of my life.”

You didn’t sound or feel particularly sad as you said it. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you felt, but you knew that it felt strange. You were lying on the grass with your captor, talking to him like he was a friend while he played with you. The man responsible for your captivity was the same one you confided in. That was something you grappled with every day, and with each day that passed, that fact felt less and less weird.

“I told you…it doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” Peter whispered back, his hand on your face. “I’m going to make you so happy.”

You didn’t want Peter to make you happy…but the only other alternative was to live out the rest of your days miserable and angry and scared. You felt like you were being so ungrateful to think like that, noting just how much worse you could have it. Compared to any of the other men, Peter was a Godsend, but he was still the same man responsible for your kidnapping.

You turned to watch him as he sat up, and you watched him reach into his pocket.

“When I went to check on your mom all those months ago…I also got this…”

You didn’t sit up, just watching him as he held a small jewelry box in his hands. The sight of it made your heart jump for multiple reasons, and you didn’t really know what to do as he opened it. As expected, a ring was inside, but it strangely didn’t look like a typical engagement ring. You figured that one would come into play eventually, and you hated how casually that thought passed through your mind.

It was more of a band, yellow gold and dainty. It reminded you of a tree branch—or vine—twisting and curving into a shape. There were golden thorns that caught your eye, reminiscent of a rose bush, and you felt frozen as Peter took your hand. He was careful in sliding it onto your finger, and you soon understood why.

When Peter pulled on it, the thorns dug into your skin, and you hurriedly sat up with a hiss.

“I had this custom made,” he murmured, turning your hand over and admiring the painful piece of jewelry. “You can’t take this off without scratching up your finger and possibly leaving behind a bloody mess.”

He gently played with your fingers, admiring it some more before his dark eyes lifted to meet your gaze. Peter’s expression was entirely serious as he threaded his fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it, his pink lips soft on your skin.

“You’re mine,” he whispered without breaking his gaze. “…and I want you to be reminded of that every single day.”

He rested his chin on the back of your hand.

“Just like I am every time I look at you…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you took a deep breath.

“You understand…?”

You struggled to swallow, hesitating when he squeezed your finger, pressing the metal thorns into your skin, and you winced.

“Yes,” you told him, breathless. “I understand.”

Peter’s entire demeanor changed at that, a smile dancing along his lips as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Good,” he whispered, kissing your cheek, now. “Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

You sat at the table as everyone around you sang.

The cake that Jane and Sharon baked was so pretty. Beautiful even. It looked like something you would’ve seen online and begged your mom to buy before she ultimately decided to just make it herself. It had the appropriate number of candles, and you stared into the flames as the song came to an end.

You felt Peter’s lips at your ear as he urged you to make a wish.

You blinked, eyes burning as you thought about the one wish you knew wouldn’t come true. The ring on your finger felt like a weight was tied to it, a reminder of just who you belonged to and the circumstances surrounding how you’d gotten here. You stared into the candle flames with tearful eyes, wondering what on earth you could possibly wish for.

Freedom was out of the question. There was no doubt in your mind that that would never happen. You considered wishing for happiness, but like earlier, you thought that you didn’t want to be happy with Peter. At least, you didn’t think you did, but living out the rest of your life in misery sounded like hell, like the worst thing that could ever happen.

…and yet, with tears in your eyes, that was what you wished for.

The other women clapped, cheering for you, but you could hear it dying down when your tears spilled over. You didn’t mean to start crying, and like every other time before, embarrassment filled you. You could feel Peter’s hands on your shoulder as he stood behind you, and when you glanced up, your eyes caught familiar green ones. You didn’t miss the concern on Natasha’s face as she eyed you.

You really did try to keep it together, even just for your own sake, but it was harder than it was supposed to be, and when everyone else grew quiet, you didn’t even need to look over to know that Steve’s hard gaze was on you. You wiped your face, but the tears just kept coming, and you heard Peter sigh.

“Here,” you heard Margaret say, her chair moving. “Let’s cut you a piece of-.”

“Sit down, Peggy.”

Steve’s cold voice was loud and clear in the otherwise quiet room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at anyone. It was your birthday, and it was nothing at all like you expected it to be. Never in your wildest dreams would you have ever predicted your birthday—any of your birthdays—being spent surrounded by a household that you were taken and forced into.

When you finally glanced over, you were unsurprised to meet Steve’s cold blue gaze.

“Jane and Sharon spent so much time on your cake…”

You looked down at that, and you felt Peter’s hands tighten on your shoulders.

“You rested the entire day, as you should because it’s your birthday…and you’re crying…?”

“Steve-.”

“You let her get away with too much, Peter!”

You jumped as Steve raised his voice, and you hesitantly looked up as the blond stood. His handsome face was taut, jaw ticking as he looked between you and Peter with anger.

“Tantrums, crying fits, holding her hand with every single chore,” Steve continued. “After everything you—and I by extension—have allowed her to get away with…and she’s still ungrateful…”

Your eyes met Steve’s then, lips trembling as he turned his venomous gaze onto you.

“You still have the audacity to cry like a spoiled brat and for what? Because your birthday isn’t at all what you expected it to be, what…a year ago?”

More tears spilled over at that, and your eyes widened as Steve strode towards you.

“You’re never seeing your friends again, you’re never seeing your family again…”

“Steve,” Margaret murmured.

“It’s high time you accepted that and stopped crying like an overindulgent child.”

With every word that left Steve’s lips, you could only manage to cry harder, and you could hear Peter saying something to him, but it was impossible to make out over the sound of your sobs.

“No, she could have it a lot worse,” you managed to catch. “You’re too lenient, too accommodating, and for what? She’s not in charge, you are.”

You could feel Peter helping you stand, and you stumbled as he pulled you against him.

“If she belonged to me…you know exactly what I’d do to straighten her out...”

The thinly veiled threat had you shuddering, more tears falling as you recalled the memory of Steve and Margaret in the yard that morning. You clung to Peter at Steve’s words, and the brunette held you close.

“Maybe you should remind her of just how bad things could be.”

Steve’s parting words still echoed in your mind when Peter brought you back to your room. He was quick to shut the door behind you both, and no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn’t stop crying. Steve’s harsh words combined with the surrealness of your birthday being celebrated in captivity was sending you into a downward spiral.

The worst of it all was that Steve was right. Jane and Sharon had spent so much time on that cake, and it showed. Peter did let you get away with a lot, especially in comparison to the other men, and it could be so much worse for you, but that still didn’t make your situation better.

Nothing about any of this was good.

You could both hear and feel Peter trying to calm you, but it was of no use. Your forehead rested on his shoulder as he rubbed your arms and back, soothing sounds leaving his lips, and the sound of his voice made you flinch for some reason. Pulling away from him, you reached for the ring, hissing when it only served to dig into your skin.

“Y/N, stop- what are you doing?”

Peter’s hands were on yours, stopping you, and you only cried harder.

“Get it off,” you shrieked. “Take it off, take it off!”

“No,” Peter spat back. “You’re mine and-.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” you screamed, descending into a fit of sobs. “I want to go home, and I want my friends, and I want my mom.”

You pressed your hands into your face, stumbling away from Peter.

“I want my mom,” you cried.

The other man was quiet as you sobbed, chest heaving and aching. You scooted back towards the headboard, wiping your face as Peter stared at you with an expression that was unreadable. You couldn’t stop shaking and crying, and you bit your lip when Peter stood. His dark eyes drank you in, glinting with something unknown to you, and you watched him take a deep breath.

“You don’t want to be mine…?” he slowly asked.

You pressed your lips together, looking away.

“You don’t have a choice, pretty girl.”

Unlike all the other times, the term of endearment wasn’t dripping with sweetness. There was an edge in Peter’s voice, and you sniffed as he reached for your hand. He squeezed the ring, making you wince, and Peter softly chuckled to himself.

“Steve was right, you know… Things could be so much worse for you.”

“I know,” you tearfully replied, trying to get your hand free.

“I could take you like some animal for the whole house to see like Steve…” you blinked back tears. “…or maybe I should be like Tony and make you wear a leash when I decide to punish you.”

“Peter-.”

“I’ve been nothing but sweet to you…haven’t I…?”

He looked between your eyes, and you reluctantly nodded.

“…and yet you don’t want to be mine.”

He was still holding your hand, and his free hand came up to rest on the back of your neck. Peter was leaning in, nose brushing yours as he studied your face. He suddenly sighed, his expression falling.

“This was supposed to be a happy day for you,” he murmured, frown deepening. “It’s your birthday…and I spent it with you, they made you a cake… You were supposed to be happy, today.”

You didn’t know how to tell Peter that nothing about this day could be happy. If anything, it was sadder than any other day you’d spent here. It was your birthday…and you were so far removed from the people you loved.

“…maybe it still can be…”

You didn’t really understand Peter’s words until his lips brushed over yours. It took you by surprise, and you jerked, but Peter didn’t seem to mind as he kept kissing you. His hand on the back of your neck kept you from moving anywhere, and when he deepened the kiss, you gasped. Peter took that opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, and your free hand pushed at his chest.

“It’s your birthday…you shouldn’t go to bed angry on your birthday,” he murmured into your skin as he kissed along your jaw.

“Peter-.”

You cut yourself off with a gasp when you found yourself on your back, Peter’s frame covering your own. The dresses and nightgowns you were made to wear were thin, and you felt every bit of Peter as he pressed himself against you. It wasn’t quite registering what was happening, and you felt almost removed from your body as Peter’s hands ran up and down your frame, lips lingering on your neck and jaw and lips. It was only when he started to push your nightgown up did the tears finally collect in your eyes.

“Peter…Peter, wait… Please,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against him.

He ignored you, fighting against you to get your nightgown off, and your panic only grew as he struggled to undress himself too. One of his hands tangled at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back and baring your throat to him. He grazed his teeth over it, and you shuddered.

“You may not want to be mine…but you are,” he whispered, lips grazing your ear.

His bare chest brushed against your own, and he quietly kept telling you that it was okay as you cried.

“…and accepting that will make things so much easier for you…will make you so much happier.”

You shrieked, nails pressing into his arm and the other hand twisting into the sheets. He was pushing into you, slow and torturous, and it took your breath away, making your chest burn. When Peter was fully settled, fully sheathed into you, filling and warm and throbbing, he took a slow deep breath, like he was savoring the moment and feel of you.

He had you completely pinned beneath him, and you didn’t even try to hold in your sobs.

“Happy Birthday, pretty girl.”

[mypoisonedvine]

80, 86, and 102 for Eddie munson please?? :)

80. “i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know.”

86. “don’t be shy now, sit on my face.”

102 “don’t cover your face, i want to see you”

warnings: smut (18+ only, oral f receiving, unprotected penetrative sex), enemies to lovers (or, enemies that are also lovers, aka hatefucking), cheating (reader is dating someone else), bullying, angst, mild violence (a punch)

word count: 4.8k

You couldn't even focus in class with him sitting behind you. You knew he was going to do something to bother you, distract you, irritate you-- anything to get your attention and get on your nerves. Yeah, that was why you couldn't focus. Not because you couldn't stop wondering if he was looking at you, or if your hair looked good in case he was looking at you, or because just the smell of him drove you crazy. No, it wasn't any of that; it was because you were anticipating that he was going to do something to bug you. He always did.

"Psst, hey," he hissed under his breath when the teacher turned her back. You ignored him at first, simply rolling your eyes, but he kept leaning out of his chair and if she turned around now, you'd both get in trouble.

"What?" you returned in a harsh whisper.

"Are you okay?"

You wrinkled your eyebrows together. What was he doing asking you something like that? You looked at him, something you'd been avoiding, and god he had such a punchable face. And grabbable hair. And kissable lips, and--

"Seriously, are you okay?" he insisted. "How are you not in horrible pain right now?"

"Huh?" you frowned. "Why would I be in horrible pain?"

"Cause sitting like that must be pretty uncomfortable-- with the stick up your ass and all," he smirked.

His friend sitting behind him snorted out a laugh, and you rolled your eyes so hard it made your vision blurry for a second. "Jeez, Ed, have you been saving that one for a special occasion? It's so creative. Maybe you should put that genius writing skill into your essay so you can finally pass this painfully easy class."

"Maybe you should work on your essay," he returned, "if you're willing to take a break from writing Mrs. Michael Robinson all over your notebook with hearts over the 'i's."

You shook your head and looked down at your book again, hoping to at least appear like you were paying attention. Eddie hated you because he hated your boyfriend. Well, he hated you independently, too, because you and your boyfriend actually got along-- he couldn't stand that you were popular and happy and that Michael was on the basketball team.

"You're just jealous," you insisted, like you had a thousand times.

"What, of your snobby boyfriend?" Eddie dismissed with an eyeroll of his own.

"No," you grinned proudly. "Of the stick up my ass."

His smile faltered for a second; busted.

"Mister Munson!" Ms. O'Donnell snapped, making both of you look up at her. Of course, you'd been sitting quietly in your seat when she turned around, but Eddie had been leaning halfway out of his to whisper to you. You fought down a smile as she glared at him. "Do I need to remind you again not to bother your other classmates?"

"S-Sorry, ma'am," he mumbled. "I was just--"

"You can tell your story in detention," she sneered, "because I'm not interested in it."

Eddie shot you a glare just before he stood up from his chair. You gave him a little smile and playful wave as he started to gather his things.

Impulsively, you tore a strip of paper out of your notebook and wrote on it quickly. As he started to leave, you slipped the paper in his pocket; he gave you a look with a raised eyebrow. "A little reading material for detention," you explained softly.

He shrugged and threw his backpack on over his shoulder, heading for the front of the classroom and disappearing out the door.

Finally, some peace and quiet. Unfortunately, now you had no excuse to goof off in this class...

~

You were at your locker, checking your lip gloss in the mirror inside the door, when Eddie appeared behind you in the reflection-- he was shooting daggers at you with his eyes, and you smiled proudly as you turned to face him.

"Hey, freak," you greeted, tilting your head and crossing your arms. "How was detention?"

"You think this is funny?" he snarled as he pulled the crumpled up slip of paper from his pocket; he unfurled it and held it right up to your face, where you saw your writing right in front of you.

I'm not wearing any panties... just thought you'd like to know. With the 'i's dotted with hearts, naturally.

You snatched the paper from his hand with a frown. "Someone might see," you warned.

"Yeah, wanna bet?" he scoffed, his lip twitching for a second with visible rage. Oh god, he looked so sexy like this; you loved making him angry. It didn't help that it was so goddamn easy. "Are you..." he lowered his voice, looking around before leaning in to make sure no one nearby could hear, "are you really not wearing any...?"

You shrugged. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

"Oh, c'mon, baby--" he choked, and you felt your heart pound because he'd never called you that at school before... all your confidence fell in a moment, and you felt your eyes flutter as you reached up to rub the back of your neck shyly.

Just then, Michael appeared beside you, draping his arm over your shoulders. You straightened up, trying to compose yourself, as did Eddie. "Hey, it's the freak bothering my girlfriend again," Michael observed. "Could you just leave her alone? She doesn't want anything to do with you, man."

"What trouble is it if she and I wanna have a conversation, huh?" Eddie challenged. "What's the harm in that? We're grown, we can talk-- doesn't seem like it's any of your business."

"It's my business because you're creeping on my girl," Michael explained. "She told me you make her uncomfortable, won't leave her alone, trying to make a move when she told you she's not interested--"

Eddie looked at you for a second, and you looked away; you couldn't take it, the hurt in his expression. "Did you tell him that?" Eddie asked you, genuinely. You were going to speak up for yourself, say that you did say that but try to mitigate it, but Michael spoke first.

"Yeah, and you know what else?" he continued. "She told me your little club is actually a bunch of devil-worshippers. So, I don't want you around her, trying to curse her or-- or trick her into doing some freaky shit with your demonic spells or whatever."

Eddie swallowed, looking at you angrily one more time before returning to staring down your boyfriend. "You know what, Robinson? You don't have to worry about me talking to your girl. I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole."

"I promise, the feeling's mutual," Michael shot back as Eddie turned on his heel and walked away. You felt guilt curl in your gut, but as much as you wanted to chase after him and apologize, Michael was already tightening his grip on your shoulder. "Hopefully that guy leaves you alone for good this time," he said.

"Yeah..." you sighed. "Let's hope so."

~

You waited, sitting on the wooden table with your feet on the bench, bouncing your knee anxiously. It was getting pretty dark, and cold, and your little cardigan wasn't doing much for you anymore. You kept glancing around the treeline, but you'd already given up; you knew he wasn't coming. You and Eddie usually met here, somewhere that no one would see the two of you together, but after how hard you'd burned him today, you were pretty sure he'd never--

"Hey," you heard a voice from the other side of the table, and you whipped around to see Eddie there, pushing his hair back with one of his hands.

"Oh," you jumped, "uh-- I didn't think you were coming."

"You know I can't stay away very long," he chuckled thinly, a sadness to his tone. "Even when you really, really piss me off..."

"Listen, what Michael said before--" you began.

"No, hey, don't sweat it," he shrugged, hopping up over the table to sit beside you. "Say whatever you need to to keep him off our scent, I guess. I mean, it's working-- everybody at school knows you wouldn't be caught dead with me."

You glanced away again, shivering with guilt-- well, it was sort of from the cold night air, too, but mainly it was guilt.

"Need me to warm you up?" he purred, wrapping an arm around you and leaning into kiss your neck. It was simple enough, but it worked; you relaxed into him right away, sighing as you felt his warm breath and wet tongue tease your skin.

"Eddie," you whimpered. "Don't tease me too much-- been waiting too long for this..."

"Mm, but that's not very fair, is it?" he noticed. "Not after you teased me today. That little note of yours had me fighting off a boner the rest of the day. I wasn't allowed to leave detention long enough to jerk off in the bathroom or anything."

You chuckled proudly, imagining Eddie trying to hide a massive bulge in his jeans while waiting in the principal's office. God, that was actually pretty hot...

"Is it true?" he asked, quieter. "Are you not wearing panties?"

You giggled and nodded, hearing him groan lowly as he put his hand on your leg, moving up higher under your skirt. You both moaned a little when his fingers met your pussy, already hot and soaking for him.

"Fuck, baby," he purred. "Does your boyfriend know?"

You shook your head, and he growled, leaning back onto the creaky wooden table and pulling you on top of him. "It was just for you, Eddie," you smiled, loving the way he bared his teeth when you said it. "Plus, they're pretty hard to put on, considering the stick in my ass."

He snorted a laugh.

"I mean, that was weak, dude, even for you," you scolded.

"Okay, okay!" he raised his shoulders defensively. "So I'm not as good at being mean as you are. But you know what I am good at?"

He pulled you down into him and kissed you passionately, slipping his tongue into your mouth right away; and you let him, because you couldn't help yourself. He was a really good kisser, he made your body melt with just the slightest brush of his lips on yours, he made your knees weak and your pussy drip. Worst part of all was that he knew all of that, and used it against you constantly.

"Gettin' needy, baby?" he whispered into the kiss, and you realized that you'd been moaning into his mouth without even meaning to. You nodded, and you felt him smile against you. "Well, come on, then-- don't be shy now, get up here and sit on my face."

You weren't very shy with Eddie, that's for sure; you were shameless. He made you feel too good to act innocent or coy at this point.

Breaking the kiss and sitting up, you climbed over him until your hips hovered over his face. You couldn't see his face well with your skirt in the way, but you heard him growl just before he grabbed your hips and pulled you down right onto his mouth.

Instantly, you moaned; his tongue lapped at you roughly, just the right mix of pressure to get your hips rocking right away. With a tight grip on your thighs-- tight enough to leave bruises you were going to have to explain somehow to Michael later-- he kept you from moving too much so he could taste you exactly how he wanted.

"Eddie, fuck," you groaned, reaching down to grab onto his hair. He circled around his tongue around your clit a few times before finally sucking on it, and you struggled not to sob out loud.

This was the only time he wasn't talkative; he normally liked to say all kinds of shit, but with his mouth full, all you heard were his little moans here and there, his heavy breathing through his nose, and the filthy slurping sounds he made as he sucked on your clit and thrust his tongue inside you.

"F-fuck, yes," you whimpered, letting your head fall back. "Yes, Eddie, just like that-- oh god--"

You could feel him smiling. Smug bastard. Say what you will about Eddie Munson, but when the man heard just like that, he knew how to keep doing exactly that to push you closer to the edge as fast as possible. Of course, knowing that he could do what he was told only made it more frustrating when he didn't.

"Fuck, please, please," you begged when he returned to his slow exploration of your folds. "I told you not to tease me, Ed, please? Please-- just wanna come..."

"Mhm?" he mumbled, sort of the only thing he could say while he was down there.

"Please!" you shouted again. "C'mon, Eddie, you know how bad I need you... I-I need you to make me come. I'm sorry for all that stuff I said, I just-- I was afraid he'd figure it out. I was afraid that he could see it all over my face, how much I--"

How much I love you.

"How much I think about you," you blurted out instead. "I swear, Ed, I never stop thinking about it-- and I'm so close already, all cause'a you, c'mon, please? Please just let me come..."

Feeling him smile again, he moved his hands up to grab your waist and returned to his faster pace, doing exactly what you needed him to to send you speeding towards the precipice of pleasure.

"Ohhhh fuck, thank you," you sobbed, "thank you, hng I'm gonna come-- you're gonna make me come, Eddie, fuck-- fuck!"

You tightened your fists in his mess of hair, your insides clenching tight on his tongue as the first wave of ecstasy hit you; you made a high-pitched noise, nearly a scream, and threw your head back. Your hips wanted to rock on his face more than anything, but his strong hands held you still and forced you to take everything head-on. Literally, since he was giving you head.

"Yes, yes!" you whimpered, toes curling inside your sneakers; it became too much all at once, and you bucked wildly as your body lost control. He finally stopped, moving your hips back, and his face popped out from under your skirt with a wide, glistening grin.

"God, you're too easy, baby," he sighed. "I was gonna tease you longer, really draw it out, but you just begged so sweet for me... like I said, I'm not very good at being mean."

"Want me to return the favor?" you offered, even though he wouldn't come quite as quickly as you did-- well, maybe he would, if he'd actually been hard since third period.

"No, fuck no," he breathed, shaking his head, and you wrinkled your eyebrows together. "No, baby, not now-- I need to be inside you."

In an instant, he'd grabbed you and flipped you onto your back, hovering over you as he made quick work of his belt. "Did you bring a condom?" you asked.

"No," he answered quickly, already pulling his cock out and pressing it up to your hole; he knew you weren't going to make him wear one, not after a few weeks ago when he begged you to let him put it in raw, 'just for a second, babe, I swear', only for both of you to become addicted to the feeling and end up totally unable to stop. Of course it was better for him, but you were surprised at how different it felt for you-- at how much your body craved to feel him with nothing in the way.

You still used condoms with your boyfriend; he didn't even know you'd gotten on the pill. You figured that was part of the appeal for Eddie, too, knowing he was the only one who got to feel you like this.

A moan caught in your throat as Eddie slipped inside you; even with how wet you were, it was still a bit of a stretch to take him. He always gave you a few seconds to adjust, but never quite long enough-- because he liked watching you struggle for a second. "Fuck," he breathed, "I almost forgot... how perfect you feel. Jesus..."

"Fuck me," you begged, "please."

He certainly didn't need to be told twice, and in a moment he was thrusting into you fast and desperately. "Oh, baby," he praised, leaning down over you and letting his head hang limp by your shoulder, "this is all I was thinking about in detention. Thinking about you spreading your legs for me... thinking about fucking your pretty hole open. Thinking about-- fuck, uh-- thinking about coming inside you."

You gasped, holding onto his shoulders as he fucked you a little faster. You two hadn't actually done that yet, he'd always pulled out-- just to be safe, he said, even with the pill and everything. Apparently, safety was less important now; and you weren't going to stop him, not when just the thought of it made you so wet that you started to drip down and stain this poor abandoned picnic table in the woods.

"I want you to," you admitted. "I... I wanna feel your come in me."

"Fuck, really, baby?" he grinned, watching you nod. "God, that's so sexy-- I will, then. I'll come inside and let you feel it all."

You whined and arched your back, everything so much more sensitive after he'd already made you come.

"I-- I don't think I'll last too long," he admitted in a whisper. "You feel too good..."

You smiled to yourself. "I don't care-- just come, Eddie, I want you to come, please..."

"Oh god," he gasped, fucking you faster and faster, "keep talking."

"Y-you fuck me so good, Ed," you whimpered, "you e-eat my pussy so good... nobody's ever fucked me like you do, you're the best-- you know that, right? The best I've ever had, nobody else has ever made me come like you do--"

"Shit," he hissed, "m'gonna come-- fuck, I'm gonna come inside you, baby, I'm gonna come so deep in your pussy, oh my god--"

"Yes, yes," you encouraged, entangling your legs with his so he couldn't pull out even if he wanted to. "Yes, Eddie, right there!"

"Ohhhh fuck!" he shouted, slowing his pace suddenly as you felt his cock flex inside you. You moaned at the feeling-- warm and shockingly gentle, every pulse of his cock stretching your walls that much more. You didn't know it would feel like this... now you were never gonna let him pull out again.

Going limp, your legs released his hips and he slowly pulled out; it was dark out now, but with his eyes adjusted to it, he could lift up your skirt and get a pretty good view of his come starting to leak from your hole.

"Wow," he whispered, and you shut your legs to hide from the awkward exposed feeling; your face was warm from him looking at you like that, and you covered it, too, with your hands. "Aw, don't do that," he cooed, reaching up to pull gently on your wrists, "don't cover your face, I wanna see you."

"You know what I look like," you dismissed, glancing away to run from his penetrative stare.

"Yeah, but you look prettiest like this," he grinned, "right after I fuck you good-- best you ever had, huh?"

Biting your lip, you nodded shyly, and he smiled even wider.

"Shit, you give out medals for that or something, certificates of achievement? 'Cause I want that in writing, best you ever had," he said wistfully. "Oh, does Mikey Robinson think he's your best? Poor guy."

He was just joking, but it hit you where it hurt and you felt your smile fall, suddenly shoving him away so you could sit up and look out into the trees-- away from him. You were so sick of feeling guilty for all of this-- guilty for how you treated Eddie when Michael was around, guilty for how you treated Michael by going behind his back with Eddie. Couldn't you just be happy with one of them, at least? But no, they were always talking about the other. That Munson freak gets on my nerves, Michael would rant to you, you let me know if he ever bothers you, okay? I know you just think he's annoying but, I dunno, a guy like that could really be dangerous. I mean, he's a criminal-- and a Satanist! And then with Eddie, who was supposed to be your escape, he had to go out and say shit like that, like he wanted to shame you for what you were doing even though he was the one you were doing it with!

"I-- I should go," you decided, hopping up off the table.

"Wha-- already?" Eddie questioned, following you once he'd put his dick back into his jeans and zipped them up. "What about pillow talk?"

"There aren't any pillows here," you noticed, starting to walk back to the school so you could get in your car and go home and take a shower and forget about all this-- until tomorrow when you were coming back for it again. God, you hated yourself in moments like this...

"Okay, we can go to my place, there are pillows there," he offered.

"Eddie, seriously," you rolled your eyes, turning around to look at him again. "You know we can't do that. You know that's not what this is."

He paused for a second, just long enough for you to spin back again and keep heading for the tree line. "Let me drive you home," he insisted.

"We can't be seen together," you reminded him, still walking away.

"Well, where the fuck are you gonna go," he shouted, "with my come running down your thighs, huh? You gonna go back to your shitstain boyfriend?"

"Don't call him that!" you yelled back, stopping but not turning around. "He's not perfect, okay? But he's not a bad person-- he's not a bad boyfriend. And he doesn't deserve any of this!"

"Not a bad boyfriend?" Eddie repeated incredulously. "Has he ever made you come like I do? If you and him had to sneak around to be together, like we do, do you think he'd do it? Or would he just go for any of the other girls that go fucking mental for a guy on the basketball team?"

"Shut up," you scoffed, facing him this time, and noticing that he was standing closer to you than you realized, "you don't know anything about him."

"I know he's not good enough for you," he replied, crossing his arms.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Because here you are!" he shouted, throwing his hands up for a second before letting them fall down to his sides with a clap on his jeans. "With me! In the fucking woods! You should be with somebody who you love enough to just be with. Exclusively. No secrets, no hiding."

"W-well, I do love him," you assured, frowning when Eddie began to laugh.

"God, you don't even know what love is, do you?" he realized. "You're just a kid, how could you know?"

"Fuck off," you spat, "I'm not that much younger than you-- I'm eighteen and everything."

"Yeah, but you don't know shit about anything, you know that?" he sneered. "I guess those nasty rumors about you are true after all. You're really just a stupid slut."

It wasn't until you felt the pain in your fist that you realized you'd punched him, square on the jaw, hard enough to knock him off balance.

"Fuck!" he yelped.

"And I guess you're just a freak," you shot back, shaking your head as you left for your car-- for the last time.

As you walked, you felt tears welling in your eyes; you wiped them away before they fell, because then you weren't really crying over Eddie Munson... your eyes were just watering. Allergies; all this pollen out here in the forest, that's it. Not that the guy you were in love with still hated you-- as he should. Not that you trusted him and he said all that shit to you, and deep down, you believed him. No, it wasn't any of that; just the pollen.

"Wait," he called after you, but you didn't stop. "Wait, damn it!"

In a moment, he caught up to you, and as he spun you around to face him, you hated that he was seeing you cry.

"I'm sorry," he breathed, "I swear, I didn't mean any of that. Well, I didn't mean the stuff about you-- I pretty much meant the stuff about him."

You tried not to laugh, but you did, even through the tears.

"Aw, see?" he cooed, "there's that smile. I love when you laugh... it's the best thing in the world. Even better than when you come-- I mean, it's close, but... that's what I miss most, when you're with him. And yeah, it makes my blood boil to imagine him touching you, holding you, loving you-- but really, what I can't stand is knowing he gets to make you laugh, and smile, and he can kiss your cheek and hug you and--"

"Eddie," you breathed, your head sinking a bit, "he doesn't make me laugh."

"No, I've seen it--" he interjected.

"It's fake, okay?" you groaned. "I have to pretend to think he's funny, 'cause he's my boyfriend, but he's so not. We used to have fun, a long time ago, but I can barely remember what that was like..."

"Wow," Eddie smirked, "so you really have to fake everything with this guy, huh..."

You snorted out another laugh, and he laughed with you. "Could you stop making me laugh? I was really busy crying over here..."

"Sorry, sorry," he soothed with a smile, pausing for a second before speaking up again. "Come on, baby, why are you with this guy? Really?"

You chewed the inside of your cheek before sighing. "Honestly, I don't know... I just wanna be with you..."

It took all the courage in your body to say it, but you did, and you shut your eyes as you felt him kiss your forehead. "I wanna be with you too," he replied. "I don't think anything else matters but that."

You started to cry again-- much more bittersweet than it was before-- and he lifted your face with his hands and wiped your tears away.

"You hear me?" he insisted. "Nothing else matters, okay? Not what any of them think, not if your parents approve of me, not if I'm just a loser and you're gorgeous and popular--"

"You're not a loser, Ed," you promised.

"You know what's crazy?" he smiled. "I don't feel like a loser. When I'm with you, I mean. And then you go back to him and I feel like complete shit, but-- really, when we're together--"

He stepped closer, pressing his body up to yours, and you took a shaky breath.

"When we're making love," he whispered, "or-- or just talking, or not even that, just laying there not saying anything at all... I don't feel like a loser anymore. I'd rather be with you than be President or be a superhero or a rockstar..."

His tone got a little more serious before he continued.

"Even if you can't break up with him, I'd rather be with you."

You sighed again, hating that he would stoop so low for you. Then again, you'd stooped pretty low for him. "I can't do that to either of you anymore," you breathed. "It's not right, it's not fair to any of us... I..."

Your body was fighting not to say it, terrified of the consequences, but your heart had been screaming it non-stop for weeks.

"I love you," you whispered.

He sighed and dropped his head down, pressing his forehead against yours as he kept holding your face. "God..." he breathed. "Say it again."

"I love you," you repeated.

He kissed you hard, rough, suddenly; you whimpered into it, throwing your arms around his shoulders, and he started to stumblingly guide you backwards. "One more time," he demanded.

"I love you, I love you," you chanted, until he cut you off with another kiss.

"I love you more," he finally replied, and nothing could stop you from breaking into a beaming smile in that moment.

"You love me more than I love you?" you wondered.

"No-- I love you more than anything," he explained, and you felt your back press against the wooden table again.

"Eddie!" you giggled. "I've gotta go-- I have to tell Michael it's over--"

"It can wait," he insisted, "I've finally got you and I'm not letting you go so easy... I need to feel you again."

"But we just--!"

He kissed you, laying you back on the table and gently pressing his weight into you. Instinctively, you moaned softly and opened your legs for him, and you felt him smile. "That's what I thought," he winked.

[satrs]

blue lock boys you think would be exes who do everything to try to get you back? to add on they’re your baby daddy so they have a reason to see you and speak to you.

ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ hiiii nonnie! thx for the request! I got some boys in mind, and the first one that I could picture was Shidou LMAOOO

also, I didn't specify the child's gender, so you can fill it in for yourself^^

Still Your Best

FEATURING; ITOSHI RIN. BACHIRA MEGURU. SHIDOU RYUSEI. RAICHI JINGO. MIKAGE REO. NESS ALEXIS.

TAGS; suggestive content. MDNI!. mention of sex. mention of kids. angst. hurt to comfort. some crazy/toxic guys. nicknames(baby, princess).

WORDCOUNT;

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

ITOSHI RIN.

He would never directly admit that he wants you back but find excuses, your child for example.

It was true that he visited your place to see his child more, spend time with them, and be as good of a father as he could be. But, he wouldn't miss taking this as an opportunity to get near you. Even if that meant doing it the harsh way.

"Rin? You already had your time with-" "I'm their father, Y/N. You can't stop me from interacting with them." "Rin, look. I'm tired of you just showing up at my doorstep unannounced and-" You sighed, too tired and not in the mood to fight with him or alarm the neighbors to feed them any gossip, so you step aside, motioning him to enter your home.

He stood in the living room awkwardly, scanning the apartment for his little one - no where in sight. " already in bed." You cleared up his confusion, throwing yourself on the couch with an exhausted sigh, "That desperate to see them? Go wake them up. But you'll take care of them then."

He didn't respond, causing you to look up at him in suspicion as he sat beside you on the couch, an unreadable expression on his face as he breathed out, searching for the right words. "If it's about that same topic, then drop it." He sighed at your reaction, a pleading look on his face. "Just hear me out for a second." You stay silent, waiting for him to continue, averting your gaze to anywhere but him. "I've been telling you this for some time now and I think it's time for you to consider it."

You eyed him before averting your gaze around the room, trying to avoid eye contact. You know what he meant. He was laying in your ears with that stuff since both of you separated. "We should try it again. For the little one." Yes, for them. But also for you. He can't deal with this 'still friends for the child' - bullshit. He wants you back in his arms with his child- be the happy family you once were.

"For the child," you reminded, repeating his words as you looked at him, a promising look on your face. His heartfelt smile startled you for a second, reminded of your happy years with him floading your mind and maybe another try wouldn't hurt.

"Yes, for the child. And for us."

BACHIRA MEGURU.

"Why don't you go play for a bit, hm? Me and Mommy have to talk." You turned at the man at that, unsure of what he meant, a raised eyebrow accompanying your confusion.

Once your child disappeared into their room, you eyed him in suspicion, waiting for him to clear the fog. "So, you got a boyfriend now, hm?" Your heart sank in realization, you child must have likely babbled it away to him. "And what about it?"

He chuckled at that, shaking his head in a scolding manner. "Y/N, a new man in our child’s life would be confusing. I think it's really selfish of you to-" "No, I don't think so. But you know what I think? I think you're just jealous that I moved on." You intervined, ready to walk off until his words rang your ear. "Yes, I am. You can't just 'move on'. That's not how it works, baby."

You flashed him a look of disbelief. "Yes, I can, as you can see." You walked off the scene, only to hear footsteps right behind you. "You sure as hell didn't. He's just a playdate to you. He could never replace me, and you know that damn well."

You stood still, tint of guilt filling your stomach because he was right - you've never and will never find anyone that could replace the hole Bachira left in your heart, your lips formed into a thin line as you turned around to get a good look at him.

A smile crept its way up to his lips at that, his feet moving on their own as he stood before you, taking your head in his hands. "But I'm here, you know. We can try again."

You looked up at him, eyes sparking with hope. "Are you serious?"

"I'm always serious about you, baby." He caressed your cheek with adoration, his eyes showing nothing but love for you.

SHIDOU RYUSEI.

"Where's (child's name)?" You questioned, impatiently tapping your feet to the ground, arms crossed in front of Shidou's doorstep. He returned a smug grin at that, leaning against the doorframe, shamelessly looking you up and down. "Went out clubbing baby? You look gorgeous, as always."

You roll your eyes at his statement, waiting for him to answer you - to no avail. Finally, your patience snapped, face adored by an irritated expression. "Can I come in?" You motioned at the door in a sarcastic manner.

"But of course, princess." He stepped aside, grin only growing bigger as he animated you to come in, quick to steal a quick peak at your behind. “So, did you had fun?” He tried to stirr up a conversation to keep you with him for a bit longer.

You ignored him, walking around the house in search of your child. “Where-“

“Asleep.” He answered quickly, smirk on his face never wavering. “You knew that I’d come to pick them up.”

He chuckled at that, nonchalantly walking into the kitchen to get you your favorite drink (he remembered every detail of you, even so small) “C’mon, make yourself at home.”

You scoffed at his sarcastic voice. ‘Make yourself at home’. What a bummer. This was your home some time ago.

“What do you want?” You asked as he sat beside you, waving the drink he offered off. “Why don’t you relax a bit? It’s not like we’re strangers.” He shrugged your decline off, drowning his own drink down. “Also,” his face twisted at the aftermath of his quick gulp down, “it’s to late for you to drive home with my child at this hour anyways, can’t allow that.”

You understood what he was getting at, taking the drink in hand as you prepared yourself for the night. He took note of that, triumphant grin on his face as he poured himself more of it, bumping his glass against yours. Tonight will be the night you’ll get back to him, he was sure of it.

“Now that’s the spirit, baby. Cheers. To us.”

RAICHI JINGO.

He is desperate for you but has no better idea of winning you back than seducing you into bed with him, covering his intentions up with 'I'm the only one who makes you feel good or 'Just some stress relieve, nothing else'. But little did he know that those actions would bite him in the ass one day.

"Stop this? But why?", he sat up straight from his side of the bed, eyeing you as you put on your clothes. "Don't you feel good? Because I know that I do. It's just like back then."

You sighed at that, throwing on your shirt as you looked at him. "That's the problem. You don't see this as just some pastime, do you?" He didn't say anything, lips forming a thin line. "That's what I thought."

He sprung to his feet and jumped into his boxers and shirt swiftly once you made your way out of the door. "Wait, can we at least talk about it?" You waved him off, stepping into your shoes at the doorstep, ready to throw on your jacket and leave. "I gotta pick our child up now. Got no time for chit-chat-"

He snatched your keys from your hand, ignoring your bickering as he stepped into his shoes himself, opening the door to head over to your car. "Raichi you're in fucking boxers! Are you out of your damn mind?"

Your curses fell on deaf ears as he sat in the driver's seat, waiting for you to enter the car. "Now we can talk and pick them up. Two birds with one stone."

You mumbled curses under your breath but seated yourself either way because, if you were being honest, you were kind of curious about what he had to say.

"What the hell do you want to talk about?" You spat, earning a chuckle from the man as he drove off on the street. "I want us again, Y/N," he said after stopping at a red light. "Raichi, but you got me. Not how you wish to be but still-" You silenced yourself once his hand comfortably rested on your thigh, innocent gaze on the road ahead.

You sighed, lingering in the comfortable silence. You knew how he was never really good with words, even back when the both of you were still together. So you let the silence speak for itself, dwelling in his touch.

Maybe you should hear him out for real this time, he got out in boxers for you after all, that's a story to tell.

MIKAGE REO.

He tried anything in his power - beg, shower you and your child with gifts- expensive ones at that- trips, and anything else you could think about. And even tho you waved him off every single time, he didn't lose hope and kept on trying. You were his treasure after all.

"Look, baby! I got you some toys." Your child reached out their hands for their father, a beaming smile on their face. "Enough, Reo." Your voice interrupted the joyful moment, bringing him back to reality.

"What's all this for?" You motioned around the room, various expensive gifts for you and the little child. "Do you think I'll just jump back into your arms if you buy me stuff?" His silence was answer enough for you as you let out a scoff, turning to gather all of his gifts into a bag, and shoving it into his hand right after. "Go fuck yourself and your gifts."

He ignored your venomous words, dropping the bag to the ground as his hand swiftly grabed you by the back of your neck, smashing his lips against yours with passion.

You were taken aback, gasping into his mouth as you returned the gesture momentarily before tearing yourself away from his grasp, ready to let the curses fall.

"Mommy and Daddy are back together!" Your childe cheered on, clapping their hands together with joy. Your head snapped into your offspring's direction, about to clear the confusion, but Reo beat you to it.

"Yup!," He threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer with a bright smile on his face. "Daddy will stay the night today, what do you say?" He threw the question into the room, eyeing you.

You desperatly wanted to decline, but the way your child's eyes sparkled in pure excitement and joy caused you to give into the offer, agreeing in defeat.

The little childe jumped up in joy while Reo began to pepper your face with kisses. Your expression was bitter but deep down, you enjoyed his touch and affection.

Just for tonight, you said to yourself, then it'll be back to how we were yesterday.

Yesterday? Oh no, it'll be back to how you used to be.

NESS ALEXIS.

He couldn't take it anymore. You and your child- the only people he adored and loved so much away from him. It's been months since you put an end to your relationship and he is suffering from the consequences.

"Y/N, please." You ignored him, taking your small child from his arms, flashing your little bundle of sunshine a bright smile. "C'mon let's go home, yeah? Mommy already-"

"Y/N." He took your unoccupied arm in his hold, a sigh of relief filling him once you finally turn your attention towards him. "You can beg as much as you want, Ness. When will you finally understand that there is no us anymore?"

"Never.", he replied, "We belong with each other, don't you get it?" A crazed look on his face as he followed you behind to your car. You seated your child in the child seat before giving your offspring a toy to get their focus away from what was happening.

"You're crazy." "Crazy over you." You sighed, turning around with crossed arms. "Can you give it a rest?" "Not until I have you back in my arms." You let out a laugh in disbelief, hopping in the driver's seat and about to slam the door, only for him to stop you from doing so.

"Just this once," He whispered, for only you to hear, "Just hear me out this once. Let me come over and talk about this- about us. I miss you." Your expression softened, an exhausted sigh leaving your lips as you rubbed your temple. "Alright. But don't get your hopes up. I'm alone at ten tomorrow. You can come over then."

A triumphant smile played across his lips as he bid his goodbye to the both of you and you swore you saw him do an attempt of an air jump as he happily stepped back into the house.

©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[sunflowerhyun]

how he sees me | hwang hyunjin | part one

◆ summary: “Do you love me?” she asked.

In his hesitation, she found her answer.

OR, alternatively, Hyunjin is a little bit of an asshole and Y/N just misses him.

◆ pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

◆ genre: ex-childhood-friends-to-lovers, punk!hyunjin au

◆ warnings: ! MDNI ! cursing, many references to past situations (in italics), some unwanted groping, y/n has a panic attack, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use (weed), slight sexual content consisting of: making out, dry humping, brief mention of y/n on top. lots of angst.

◆ wc: 16k+

◆ a/n: hiii. part one is in the books !! this is my very first fan fiction on tumblr and i’m super excited to go on this journey w/ you all ! also, so sorry for the long wait (nursing school is currently kicking my ASS) but i hope this chapter is okay. thanks for reading ♡

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Y/N always loved the stars.

She loved the fact that once the sun went back into its hiding place and there was no more light to pave way, a million stars would make their appearance, decorating the night sky and bringing back some of that light that was previously lost. They would twinkle, dance—Y/N rarely ever saw them alone. And the main thing she loved about them was that the brightest star in the sky, would always be accompanied by another. The night sky was their gathering place—their safe haven—and it soon became hers too.

Y/N always loved the stars, because they reminded her of him.

On the nights where Y/N was stressing about their next test in Calculus and she just couldn’t for the life of her make it make sense, they would go see the stars. On the nights where Y/N would cry over some stupid boy that decided he didn’t want her anymore, they would go see the stars. On the nights where he had enough of his parents and felt hopeless, worthless, undeserving of anything and everything in the word, they would go see the stars.

Nothing was ever said when they went to see the stars. They would take his car, drive to an abandoned area, lay on the hood, and just breathe. He often told her he felt suffocated, contained; when they went to see the stars, he could finally break free from that. And Y/N would curl up beside him, his arm bringing her as close as they could get, and they would simply just be present with one another. The stars were their thing, their escape; him and her.

Nothing was ever said when they went to see the stars, until it was.

“I’m leaving.”

Y/N raised her head from his chest, sitting up so she could face him directly, to make sure she heard him correctly. He avoided eye contact, eyes staying focused on the sky in front of him. That night, the stars were hiding behind the clouds.

“What?” she whispered, heart beat thumping out of her chest, “what do you mean?”

He swallowed thickly, taking his bottom lip in-between his teeth. The same lips that she had kissed the night before. The same lips that had whispered sweet nothings and broken promises in her ear as she gave him her firsts. The same lips that will eventually betray her, break her, ruin her.

“I’m leaving,” he repeated, like he had practiced saying it a hundred times in the mirror before this. “I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.”

He sounded so sure of this, voice stern and clear as day. The words hung in the air for one second, five seconds, fifteen—and then, “what do you mean?”

The question came out again, a whisper—the breeze carried it through the sky. He had heard her, but said nothing more, eyes staying forward, his arm still laying sprawled out beside him, the same arm she was laying on top of just moments earlier. Why isn’t he looking at her?

“What do you mean, Hyunjin?!” The question came out more harsh this time, and his nostrils flared slightly at the tone. “You can’t just tell me you’re leaving and never coming back and expect me to just sit here and let you without any sort of explanation! Does our friendship mean nothing to you? Do I mean nothing to you?”

He closed his eyes briefly, finally giving some sort of a reaction, running his hands through his hair and dragging them down to cover his face. Nothing was heard but the faint sound of crickets, the slight rustle of the trees as the wind blew… and Hyunjin was still not saying anything.

“You can’t even look at me,” Y/N whispered, and his body stiffened. Suddenly, she began to panic, reaching out to softly grip his thigh, leaning forward. “Let me come with you, then. You know I don’t want to live here either. We can get an apartment together, and I can re-apply to some colleges to wherever you��re going. I-I’m sure my parents would be a little upset about it, but I know they would under—"

“Stop, Y/N.”

“—stand, because they really like you, you know? I mean, you’ve been around since we were in elementary school, and my mom was so excited when we went to prom together, and—"

“Y/N!” He yelled, sitting up from the hood of the car and taking his hands off his face. Y/N flinched, moving her hand off his thigh like it had burned her…but Hyunjin was finally looking at her. “Just… stop.”

It was quiet. He was breathing heavy, staring at her like he was about to break her. The wind blew, and Hyunjin’s hair fell into his eyes. He was so beautiful. Here he was sitting on the hood of his car, telling her he’s leaving her, and yet he was beautiful. Y/N felt her heart drop into her stomach, wanting nothing more than to lean over and connect their lips, beg him to stay, beg him to just explain to her what was going on.

“You can’t come with me. I just need to get away from here. I’m going to suffocate if I stay in this town any longer. I made it through graduation, and now it’s time for me to leave. There’s nothing for me here and I’m drowning each second I stay.”

“But I’m here,” she whispered. “Is that not enough?”

The stars never came out that night.

Y/N thinks back to that night a lot, a lot more than she should. She thought back to his body language the day of and how… off he seemed. He barely made eye contact, would slightly flinch whenever she touched him—smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Y/N recognized the signs, and that’s why she wasn’t surprised when he had asked her to go see the stars that night. She just wasn’t expecting that.

Tears, screams, and whispers were the highlight of that night. Y/N—begging him to stay, Hyunjin—making promises he knew he wouldn’t keep. And Y/N clung to those promises because Hyunjin had never broken any. But when one week, three weeks, months passed, she came to the realization that Hyunjin was not who she thought he was.

The tears and screams came back then. And they haven’t really gone away since.

That’s why tonight, when Jeongin had invited her to come out to have a couple of drinks to celebrate him recently graduating university, she thought of the stars, and she thought of him.

She doesn’t think she’s ever stopped.

“Y/N!” She heard her name being called, glancing away from the sky to turn her head towards the sound of the voice. A mop of blonde hair was speed walking towards her, eyes twinkling and smile widening.

She smiled back, stumbling back a few steps once Felix had approached her and embraced her in one of his famous, suffocating bear hugs. Felix loved hugs and Y/N loved being the reciprocator of them; it’s always nice to feel cared for. “Ugh, I’m so ready to get drunk tonight. You won’t believe the amount of last-minute orders we got today.”

“Well, it is about that time for graduation season. Lots of people wanting some of your tasty cakes, ya know.”

Felix snorted at her comment, pulling away from the hug, running his fingers through his hair. He had started growing it out and Y/N thought it suit him well.

“Speaking of your tasty cakes, did you bring one for Jeongin?”

“Who do you take me for? Of course I did!” He replied, putting a hand on Y/N’s back to lightly guide her towards the front door of the bar, “Well, I didn’t bring it. That was Minho’s job. But I did make it. And I spent about four hours decorating the damn thing, so you better take some pictures before it gets ruined.”

“Shouldn’t that have been Minho’s job since he’s the one bringing it?” Y/N asked, mumbling a small thank you as Felix held the door open for her.

“Fuck, you’re right. Let’s hope they didn’t cut into it already or I might throw a fit.”

“Please, not tonight in front of everyone.” Y/N teased, glancing around her briefly to take in the scene in front of her. She had never been here before—not really being the type to go out and drink often—but the vibe was okay, as far as she could tell. It was crowded, but not too much as to where it would feel suffocating. The music was upbeat, not blaring loud to where she had to scream to have a basic conversation and she didn’t spot any couples aggressively making out in the middle of the bar. However, it was only 20:00, so that was probably going to change pretty soon.

“So on a scale of 0-10, 10 being the best, how is it? I know you’re probably about to piss yourself from just being in here.”

“I am not!” She shoved him to the side a little, letting out a scoff, “And normally it’s the other way around. But I’m giving this place a solid 6 right now. That could change though, depending on how much you annoy me tonight.”

Felix rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever. Jeongin made sure to choose this place extra carefully since you were coming. It’s really not that bad. You need to have a few drinks and relax for once. You’ve been working too much lately.”

Y/N sighed at his comment, feeling a headache coming on just from the mention of work. She’s been running on 3 hours of sleep per night the past few weeks and simply just wanted to go lay in her bed since she’s finally off tomorrow. A bubble bath and a glass of Moscato sounded really nice too.

“Let’s go find the others. Jeongin booked a private area in the back for us.”

Y/N hummed in response, leaning closer to Felix as he led them towards the back of the bar. She glanced at him, noting the lip tint on his lips, the overwhelming scent of Dior, and his famous lip ring he rarely wore. She squinted her eyes, “Are you trying to get laid tonight?”

“Maybe I am,” he cracked a grin.

“I can tell. You smell and look like you’ve just came out of a fashion show that neither of us can afford,” Y/N teasingly poked the side of his face, laughing as he quickly swat her hand away before returning its position back onto her lower back. “Anyone in particular or are you just looking for someone random?”

Felix groaned slightly, “I hate when you interrogate me like this.”

“I’m not! I’m just invested and being a good friend,” She spoke, heels loudly clanking against the floor, and Y/N kind of wished she didn’t chose to wear these tonight. “You should be able to enjoy yourself. I just like to know details.”

“You get off to the details or something?”

“Not those details, you pervert!” She exclaimed, elbowing him in his side once they came to a halt. He groaned lightly before attempting to elbow her back, as she let out a laugh before dodging it, gently gripping his arm and moving back towards him. “You know what I mean. I just like to make sure you’re alright and that they aren’t sketch or something.”

“I’d like to think that I have good judgement.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Remember that red-headed girl you hooked up with a few months ago? She literally tried to fight me, threaten me, and also showed up at your work crying because she thought you were cheating on her. And remember when she—"

“Okay, that was one time!” Felix quickly defended himself as Y/N gave him a I told you so look. “Alright fine, I’d like to think I have good judgement when I’m not drunk off vodka and red wine. Which was your fault, by the way.”

Y/N gasped, “It was most certainly not! Minho was the one that—"

“Are you guys ever going to stop flirting in front of us?” A voice piped up from beside them, and Y/N immediately recognized it to be Minho’s. “Normally we would encourage both of you to go get a quickie in at the bathroom, but it is Jeongin’s graduation celebration, so that would be rude since he isn’t getting any.”

“Hello to you too, Minho. My day was great, thank you for asking,” Felix rolled his eyes, gently moving Y/N’s hand off his arm to make his way over to a scowling Jeongin who was obviously annoyed at Minho’s comment, “Congrats on finally graduating!”

Jeongin’s death stare was quickly replaced with a smile as he embraced Felix in a hug, letting out a thank you. “Hey!” He suddenly shouted, the scowl immediately making its way back as he struggled to swat Felix’s hands away from his head, “Get off! You’re messing up my hair and it’s my night!”

“Yeah, Lix, you’re ruining his chances of getting laid tonight.”

Jeongin groaned at Minho’s comment. “I am sick of you. Remind me why I invited you, again?”

“Because you love me.” Minho smirked.

“Leave him alone, Minho,” Y/N rolled her eyes, shoving him to the side slightly before walking over to where Felix and Jeongin were. Jeongin stood up when seeing her, pushing Felix to the side as he embraced her in a hug.

“Congratulations! I know you’ve worked hard!” Y/N smiled, as he mumbled out a thank you. Y/N pulled away from the hug, digging into her purse to pull out the gift card her and Felix had bought. “Here ya go. $500 visa gift card to spend on whatever you want from Felix and I. He was supposed to also buy a card to put it in, but you know how he is.”

“$500?!” Minho obnoxiously shouted, “Where was this generosity for my graduation? I only got $50!”

“Shut up,” Jeongin rolled his eyes, smiling widely once looking at Y/N and Felix. “Thank you guys so much! You really didn’t have to.”

“Of course we did! Graduating university is a big deal. Now you can go work as an Engineer and buy a round of drinks for once!” Felix laughed, patting him on the head. Y/N snorted lightly at the way Jeongin’s cheeks became red, knowing how his drinks and food are always paid for whenever they go out together. Y/N was once a university student too, so she understood the struggle.

“Hello? Are you guys just going to ignore me?”

“Do you not remember me buying you almost $300 worth of drinks and food that night?” Felix asked, as Minho shook his head. He rolled his eyes, “I’m sorry you were so wasted you didn’t remember. But I did. Y/N is the one that gave you the visa card.”

“I was in university and broke!” Y/N defended herself when seeing Minho shooting her a look, “And to be fair, I had only known you for a few months then. I didn’t have to get you anything, you know.”

“I know, I know. I’m teasing,” Minho smirked, walking up to Y/N and lightly hitting his hip against hers. “Let me order you a drink. First round’s on me.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Y/N smiled, quickly walking over to hand Felix her purse (so she wouldn’t be tempted to start a tab), before heading towards the bar. “This place is kinda nice. Not too rowdy or anything.”

“Yeah, it’s one of the more tamer ones around here. I’ve been here a few times. The liquor is pretty good,” He replied. Y/N took a few moments to quickly look him over head-to-toe, noticing that he had just recently changed his hair color. It’s gotten a little longer, too. “You dyed your hair black. And you’ve started growing it out. Is long hair coming back into style, or are you seeing someone?”

Minho snorted, running his fingers through his hair as they approached the bar. He quickly caught the attention of the bartender, ordering them both a vodka sour before turning his body to face her, leaning against the bar side table. “Long hair has never gone out of style and I’m not currently seeing anyone. Why? Are you interested?”

“In your dreams, maybe.” Y/N smirked in response, and Minho snorted in reply. She always found him to be quite handsome, and his personality was unlike anyone’s she had ever met. Minho was blunt, always telling things as it was, and never sugar coated anything. He was successful, graduated university with a business degree, currently finishing up his MBA while working alongside his father at a very well known company throughout the country.

He was the perfect image of a perfect partner. Yet, he wasn’t him.

He has ruined everyone for her, and he doesn’t even know it.

At the thought of him, Y/N frowned, eyes zeroing in on the crumbled up napkin currently laying on the floor near Minho’s feet. Minho was now conversing with the bartender as he sat the drinks in front of him, and everything suddenly started to sound muffled. Memories began to flood into her mind; memories of plush lips grazing her skin, late night swims in her grandma’s pool, the way he held her whenever it stormed because he knew she was afraid of being alone, sneaking into each other’s bedrooms at midnight to eat junk food and binge watch their favorite drama...

It wasn’t until she felt someone lightly shaking her arm that she had snapped out of her state, eyes shooting up to glance at a slightly worried Minho, the drinks balancing on his free hand. She blinked once, twice—before her cheeks started to tint a shade of pink in embarrassment.

“You okay?” Minho had asked her. Y/N could almost cry from the worried look in his eyes. How embarrassing it was to blank out like that.

“I’m fine, sorry. I’m just a little tired still from working 5 nights in a row, is all,” She replied, mustering a smile that she knew probably seemed fake, and gently grabbed one of the drinks from his hand. She took a long sip, “Let’s go back and dig into some cake and take some shots.” She definitely is going to need some heavy alcohol to make it through the rest of the night.

Minho wasn’t fully convinced, but mumbled out an “alright” before leading them both back over to where the others were waiting. A few more of Jeongin’s friends had shown up, Y/N noticed, watching as they had already ordered two rounds of tequila shots. She hurriedly walked over to the empty chair beside Felix and took a seat, chugging down the rest of her vodka sour and slamming it on the table in front of her. At the sound, Felix glanced over to her mid-conversation with some guy she has never met before, words dying down in his throat when seeing the look on her face.

He gently grabbed her hand and pulled it under the table, “What’s wrong?”

Y/N smiled in response, giving his hand a tight squeeze. “Nothing! I’m just ready to take some shots and eat your tasty cake you spent hours working on.”

Felix saw right through her. Y/N knew he could tell she was lying. He knew her too well. “Y/N, if something is bothering you, we can lea—"

Loud laughter suddenly was heard as one of Jeongin’s friends had suddenly pushed his head into his graduation cake. Minho busted out into a fit of manic laughter, snapping pictures to probably post on his snapchat story in attempt to embarrass him any way he can. Jeongin immediately began to complain, and Felix groaned out a, “Minho, please tell me you took a picture of the cake first!”

“Calm down, blondie. The picture was taken so you can post it on your IG.” He rolled his eyes in response, bickering with Jeongin a little bit more before ruffling the head on his hair and plopping down on the empty seat next to Y/N. “These pictures are golden. I should go into photography.”

“Like you need the extra money.” Felix retorted, “Send me the picture before you forget later. It better not be blurry.”

Y/N giggled at their banter, reaching over to grab the un-touched tequila shot in front of her and downing it. She immediately relaxed, eyes closing as she leaned back into the seat a bit.

“Damn, you didn’t even use a lime or salt,” Minho stated in disbelief, “And you didn’t wait on me. So now you’ve got to do another one.”

“You were being too slow.” She replied with a grin, “And if you knew the work week I’ve had, you would understand. So order us some more shots, please!”

Minho chuckled, grabbing the touch screen pad they had at their table to input another round of shots for everyone. Y/N could tell Felix was looking at her again, but she chose to ignore him for now. She’s here to drink, eat cake, and celebrate Jeongin. The crying can come later.

“Done!” He shouted, clapping and rubbing his hands together in anticipation. “I fucking love tequila. I’d marry it if I could.”

“You’d marry a lot of things,” Felix replied, deciding to drop the conversation once realizing Y/N didn’t want to talk right now. He’d get it out of her later, anyway.

“Especially Selena Gomez.” Minho sighed dreamily. Felix rolled his eyes. “I’d give up my liver for her. And my virginity.”

“You’re not even a virgin.”

“Shh, she doesn’t know that.”

“Selena hasn’t even been on tour in like years. Is she still relevant?” One of Jeongin’s friends popped into the conversation. Minho froze, head turning slowly to glare at the guy, and Y/N tried to hold in her laugh at the way his face paled slightly when seeing Minho’s facial expression.

“Did you just insult my wife?”

The guy, who Y/N did not know the name of, visibly gulped, immediately letting out a cluster of, “Of course not! Selena is amazing! She’s so headstrong! I didn’t mean to come off that way. It’s just been so long since she’s like—"

“Peter, chill. He’s just messing with you.” Jeongin interrupted him when seeing that his friend was about to shit himself from Minho’s stare. Peter let out a nervous laugh, deciding to turn his head away from their direction and start conversation on the other side of the table.

Felix snorted when seeing Minho’s satisfied smirk on his face. He leaned back into his chair, twirling the glass of vodka sour in his hand before taking a sip. “I love the affect I have on people.”

“You’re a narcissist.” Y/N laughed. Poor Peter. She would have to make sure to speak with him before she leaves later.

“Speaking of tours and concerts though, are you guys interested in coming to this music festival? One of my buddies from back home is in this band and I promised I would go watch them perform. They’re pretty fucking sick.”

“Who is it?” Felix asked.

“They’re called Stray Kids. Pretty fucking dope. Chan is my friend, and then there’s 3 other dudes. I haven’t met them yet though,” He replied, eagerly grabbing the tequila shots from the waitress with a thank you and passing them down.

Y/N grabbed one of the shots, reaching for a lime and some salt. “That could be fun. What kind of music do they make?”

Minho and Felix did the same, and they each said a brief cheers before downing their shots. Y/N sighed, immediately starting to feel a little lighter and less upset. She hadn’t had tequila in a hot minute.

“Damn that was good,” Minho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “They do some heavy metal shit. It’s awesome. They performed at Coachella last year and then kind of got viral on the internet. They’re going on their first world tour next year. Surprised you haven’t heard of them.”

“Oh wow,” Y/N mumbled. “That’s so nice. That’s crazy that one of your best friend’s is basically a celebrity.”

“Right,” Minho laughed, shaking his head back and forth like he was in disbelief. “I still remember us as kids writing songs together and forcing our parents to listen to it. Crazy.”

Y/N smiled at Minho’s comment as a another memory flooded her brain.

“Let’s do this again!” Hyunjin had shouted, running over to the CD player sitting on top of the desk in the playroom.

“Jinnie, I’m tired!” Y/N whined, sprawled out on the carpet in agony, sweating like she had just ran a marathon. “We’ve been practicing this for over an hour! When can we go play barbies? You promised you would play with me.”

Hyunjin groaned at the mention of barbies. He despised them. “Stop being dramatic. Do you want to have a sleepover or not?”

Y/N pouted, “Of course I do.”

“Then stand up so we can do this again. You know this is the only way to convince your mom to let you stay, and she’s going to be here to pick you up in like 30 minutes.”

Y/N sighed, glancing over at the princess barbie house she had gotten for her 8th birthday recently in longing. She was so excited to show Hyunjin her new horse carriage and princess doll. And she was even more excited when the prince doll came with it. He looked just like Hyunjin, and it made her feel fuzzy inside.

Hyunjin groaned again when seeing that Y/N was making no effort to get off the floor. He glanced at the barbie house, then back at her, rolling his eyes before letting out a, “Fine. Let’s do this one more time so we are prepared when your mom gets here, and then when she says yes, we can play barbies until dinner.”

Y/N sat up, crossing her legs on the floor. “Really?” She eagerly asked.

“Yes. I will be the prince and rescue you from the witch,” Hyunjin confirmed with a nod of his head, knowing she always made him save her in some way whenever she forced him to play.

"Will you also promise to not make a face whenever they kiss?"

Hyunjin immediately made his classic 'ew' face at the mention of kissing. "Ugh, why do you always want them to kiss? Why can't they just hug like normal people?"

"Because they just have to! Every prince always kisses his princess!"

Hyunjin groaned again, glaring at the barbie castle, horse carriage, and dolls laying in the corner of his playroom. She always brought the entire set whenever she came over to his house on weekends so that they could play together. Hyunjin dreaded it.

"It's still gross. But fine. As long as you stand up and finish this dance with me."

Y/N grinned, immediately jumping up to run over to him, tackling him into a hug as he let out an oof sound. “Thanks Jinnie! You’re the bestest friend ever!”

Hyunjin blushed slightly, yet quickly shoved her off of him, "Ew, get off of me. You are sweaty and gross."

Y/N giggled, leaning in again to give him a wet kiss on his cheek, and he screeched loudly before dramatically wiping the side of his cheek with the back of his hand, letting out a, "Gross! Why do you always do that?!"

“Y/N?” a voice interrupted her thoughts. She blinked, seeing that Minho and Felix were both starring at her again expectantly. “Yes? Sorry.” She replied.

“They started cutting the cake. There’s a slice in front of you.”

“Oh,” Y/N spoke, letting out a few giggles in embarrassment, “Right. Yum.”

Minho and Felix shared a look, and Y/N noticed this, quickly grabbing the fork and shoving a piece of cake in her mouth. “Your cakes never disappoint, Lix.” She spoke through a mouthful of cake, “Does this have expresso in it?”

“Yeah, it does. Jeongin’s request. Dark chocolate with expresso,” Felix replied, and Y/N nodded her head with a pleased hum.

“So when is this festival? I’m going to have to take off work most likely if it’s a weekday.”

Minho took a bite of his cake, wiping his mouth after. “It’s actually next weekend. Sorry for the late notice. I waited until the last minute to get the tickets. But it’s covered, so you guys won’t owe me anything.”

“I’m actually off next weekend since I worked this past one, so that works for me. Also, I don’t mind paying you back. I think it would be fun.”

“Yeah, I think so too. I’m down to go,” Felix agreed with a nod of his head.

“Cool. I’m going to text Chan and let him know we’re coming. He said he could get us backstage after they perform. They’re performing towards the end of the festival.” Minho replied, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He typed for a couple seconds, and then put it back in his front pocket of his pants. “They’re performing Friday and Saturday night. It’s a two-day thing. The tickets I got cover both days.”

“What’s the festival called?”

“Rock Your Socks Out. It’s just a bunch of alternative artists. Pretty sick.”

“Nice,” Felix replied, sliding his plate over and grabbing his napkin to dab at his mouth. “And we get to go backstage, too? And meet your celebrity friend? Even better.”

Minho chuckled, “I already know you’re plotting a way to get them to promote your bakery.”

“Yup, totally am.”

Y/N scrapped up the last of the crumbs on her plate into her mouth before leaning back into the seat, “Lix, your bakery is already pretty successful. You’ve literally made the top 10 for two years in a row.”

“Don’t flatter him again. We will never hear the end of it.” Minho groaned.

“That’s a huge deal for small businesses. He can brag about it all he wants! He deserves it.” Y/N replied, giving Felix a wide smile that immediately had him smiling back in triumph.

“Yeah, Minho. What she said.”

Minho rolled his eyes, standing up and pushing his chair under the table, “Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go dance and order some more drinks so I’m not tempted to call my secretary about those files that are probably still not done.”

“I’m coming with!” Y/N followed suit, stopping briefly when feeling a hand gently grab her wrist. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Felix asked again.

“I’m fine. Seriously. I just want to go dance and have a few more drinks. You should do the same and go get what you came for in the first place.” Y/N poked his cheek, and Felix rolled his eyes when catching onto the fact that she was referencing to him getting laid tonight.

Y/N knew he was wanting to press the conversation further, leaning down to quickly kiss his cheek in an effort to end the conversation before jogging after Minho who was already at the bar ordering more drinks. Felix shouldn’t worry about her, Minho shouldn’t worry about her. She was going to have a great time with her friends tonight and get shit-faced. Simple as that.

She was fine.

——>

Y/N was not fine.

Three tequila shots later, Y/N found herself dancing with some random guy she didn’t care to know. His hands roamed her frame, paying extra attention to her hips and the thick curve of her ass. She didn’t mind that, (being five tequila shots in), but what she did mind was the feeling of his lips on her neck. It gave her goosebumps, and not in a good way.

“Stop, please,” She slurred out, grabbing his hands and pulling them away from her ass in case he didn’t hear her from the music that had gotten ten times louder over the past two hours.

The feeling on her neck wouldn’t stop, and she let out a huff of annoyance before attempting to turn her body around to face this guy, but stopped mid-turn at the feeling of his hands sharply turning her hips to where she was back in the same position as before. She frowned, attempting to grab his hands again to throw them off, but failed to do so.

The guy’s hands traveled up her waist and towards her breasts, pulling her even closer, “S-stop,” She let out again, trying to wiggle her way out of his grasp, and he let out a moan when she accidentally pushed back onto his dick.

“Hey!” A voice yelled over the music, making Y/N glance up to see that Minho was approaching them. “Get the fuck off, dude. She’s obviously uncomfortable.”

The guy scoffed, and before he could say anything Minho had grabbed her hands and easily pulled her off of him. Y/N grinned, immediately wrapping her arms around his waist. “Minnie! I’m so happy to see you! Did you see me dancing? Did I improve any?”

Minho hugged her back, glaring at the back of the guy’s head that must have decided he couldn’t care less about the situation and started walking away. “Yep, I did. And yep, you did. Did you take more shots?” He replied, pulling her body off of his to look into her eyes, immediately seeing that she was—in fact—shit-faced.

“Yes! I dunno how many though. Maybe like two? I stopped counting,” She giggled, swaying back and forth slightly in attempt to keep her balance. Minho sighed, checking his watch on his wrist to see that it was nearing midnight. “Let’s go get you some water and sit down for a bit.” He spoke, gently grabbing her forearm and leading her towards the bar.

“I don’t need any water, silly willy. I’m fine.” Y/N slurred out, stumbling a bit when she had accidentally knocked into a couple dancing. Minho let out a groan when catching her before she could fall, and Y/N giggled.

“I’m fine, my ass. I about broke my fucking back trying to protect your head from the floor.” Minho stated with a slightly annoyed huff, but nevertheless ended up getting them safely to the bar and immediately pushed Y/N into one of the chairs. He ordered a large glass of ice water, pulling out his phone to send a text to Felix to see where he was at and if he should take her home or not.

Y/N leaned back into the chair, half-lidded eyes roaming the dance floor, doing a double take when seeing a couple making out near the wall towards the back.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

Y/N sighed quietly, flipping the page of the biology textbook and highlighting the sentence about ribosomes, attempting to ignore the question. She could feel his stare on her, and it was starting to make her sweat a little. She sighed again when realizing he wasn’t going to look away. “Yes, Hyunjin. 100% serious.”

Hyunjin scrunched his eyebrows, face displaying a total look of disbelief as he looked at her like she had grown two heads.

“Why do you look so shocked? You know guys avoid me like the plague.”

“I don’t.”

“You don’t count.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “Whatever. Back to the important thing here, I can’t believe you’re about to be 18 and haven’t made out with anyone before. What happened to Noah?”

“Nothing. He ditched me for Kassi at prom. Apparently he just wanted to go with me to make her jealous. And it worked, because I got called a slut and laughed at by all her friends while she made out with him near the punch bowl.”

Hyunjin winced, “Wait, what? Why didn’t you come get me? Or tell me? We could’ve went and gotten McDonalds instead.”

“I wasn’t going to ruin your night. It’s fine. Seriously, it’s not a big deal.” She replied, picking her highlighter back up to continue skimming the paragraph in the textbook. His eyes were still on her and Y/N shifted slightly. She hated when he stared at her like that because it made her nervous, and it was getting more difficult to not show it the older they got.

Hyunjin was probably thinking that she was lame for not having her first make-out session with anyone and was probably thinking how to make her feel less embarrassed about the situation. But really, he should’ve known. Y/N was never the kind to just get up and kiss anybody and Hyunjin knew that. She doesn’t know why he seemed so shocked at that fact, or why he wasn’t laughing yet.

Wait, why wasn’t he laughing?

“Do you want to quiz each other?” Y/N asked in attempt to ease her nerves and change the topic of the conversation. He was probably starting to feel sorry for her and she was starting to get a little embarrassed. It didn’t help that he wouldn’t stop starring at her, either. “I can go first. Just flip to the practice questions at the back of the chapter and read them off—“

“We can make-out, if you want.”

Y/N stopped mid-sentence at his comment, mouth closing then opening, then closing again. Her ears must be deceiving her because there was no way he just suggested a make-out session with her.

“What?” She asked, hoping she had heard him wrong, but by the look on his face, she was starting to think that she didn’t.

“I said we can make-out if you want to,” Hyunjin replied, unfazed. He was so unbothered by the suggestion that Y/N was still having trouble comprehending that he had even offered this in the first place.

He must have saw the look on her face, rolling his eyes slightly before letting out a, “You’re acting like we haven’t kissed before. It’s just making out.”

“A couple experimental pecks when we were younger doesn’t count as kissing!” Y/N exclaimed with a squeak, cringing at the sound of her voice. She knew she was getting so red right now and wanted to hide under her blankets. “And—and, you’re acting like this is just so casual! Like we make-out all the time! Is this some kind of joke? Are you just saying this to make fun of me? Because it isn’t funny, and… and… you can’t just sit there and nonchalantly offer to make-out with me! Like, won’t that be—“

“Do you want to suck faces with me or not?” Hyunjin interrupted her small rant, and Y/N choked. “Look, it’s really not a big deal. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, and it won’t make things awkward. I’ve literally taken a shit in the same bathroom while you’ve showered before. I’m not making fun of you. I’m just saying I’m down to be your first. Maybe I can give you some pointers so you’re more confident when the situation comes up again with another guy. That’s all.”

Y/N pursed her lips, glancing down at her hands, then back towards his face. He looked so sincere, and his hair was slightly grazing his eyes. Y/N wanted to reach out and push it back. “Okay.” She quietly stated, and Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly, not expecting her to agree.

“Okay,” He had replied even quieter, gently grabbing the textbook from her lap and placing it on the floor and out of the way. Once there was no more barriers between them, he had scooted closer to her, the bed creaking slightly as he did so. Y/N could feel her heart beating out of her chest, wondering if Hyunjin’s was doing the same.

“I’m going to kiss you now. I’ll start slow,” He softly spoke, words sounding like honey, dripping down and down until his voice was the only thing she could hear. She nodded slightly, and he glanced at her lips. She licked them impulsively, and his eyes shot back up to her own. She took in a breath when feeling his hand lightly graze the side of her face, his gaze so intense that it had her tremble slightly from the anticipation.

And then his lips were on hers.

Soft. That was the first thing that came to her mind. His lips were so soft and so plush against hers that she was starting to struggle to breathe. And to move her own.

He pulled away, “You’re not kissing me back.”

Y/N was sure her face resembled a fucking tomato at this point, wanting to slap herself for getting too caught up in the feeling of his lips that she forgot to move. “Right, uh, s-sorry.”

“S’fine,” He smirked in response, a teasing glint in his eyes, and Y/N wanted to slap herself again. “I’m gonna do it again. Just follow my lead, okay? And if you wanna stop, tell me.”

Y/N nodded nervously, and Hyunjin’s lips twitched slightly. He grabbed her hands, placing them on his shoulders so she wouldn’t feel so awkward, and Y/N gulped from the feeling. Sure, he was still scrawny, but he had started working out, and Y/N definitely noticed.

He smiled at her, and before Y/N could blurt out that she couldn’t do it, his lips were on hers again.

This time, it felt different.

They were still soft, but they were also wet. She moved her lips slowly against his, following his lead like he said, and she could taste him. He tasted like the strawberries he had earlier and like heaven. Y/N didn’t want to stop.

She didn’t want him to stop, letting out a whine once he disconnected their lips.

Her face immediately got red and she wanted to slap herself for the fourth time. Hyunjin’s eyes widened slightly at the noise, pupils blown, and Y/N clinched, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

He did. And he leaned in again.

This time, it was all tongue and teeth. It was messy and it was rough. Y/N let out a moan when his hand softly gripped her thigh, and he moved it up to her waist, giving it a squeeze. It was fast and it was hot, and Y/N wasn’t even struggling to keep up because she was so worked up.

This was her and it was Hyunjin. Her sweet Hyunjin, who offered to help her learn to kiss so she wouldn’t embarrass herself with someone else later on. Her considerate Hyunjin, who made sure she wasn’t uncomfortable. Her sensual Hyunjin, who slid his tongue into her mouth, hands traveling back to her thighs before dipping in between them, grazing her clothed core briefly.

Y/N let out a soft moan at the feeling of his hand briefly touching her through her leggings, hands impulsively coming up to grip at his hair, tugging him even closer to her. He let out a groan, breaking the kiss briefly to re-adjust his body, leaning her back onto the bed so he could tower over her more comfortably.

She spread her legs as she felt his body weight on top of her and he bit his lip as he noticed that. Y/N felt embarrassed at their new position and at the fact that she was probably acting like a virgin who had never been touched before, but that’s exactly what she was, so she didn’t care. Instead, she grabbed his face, bringing him down to connect their lips again for the fourth time.

Kissing him and being with him like this ignited something within her. The feeling of his lips on hers, his body pressing into hers, his hands on her. It was her, and it was Hyunjin.

Her hips lifted up slightly, grazing his dick in his sweatpants, and Y/N whined when he groaned loudly at the feeling. She did it again intentionally, wanting to hear him make that sound again and to feel him on her again. He roughly bit her lip in response, almost as if he was sending a warning, before disconnecting their lips, a string of spit following him as he leaned his head back.

“Maybe another time for that, yeah?” He spoke, voice seeming ten times deeper with a little rasp to it, and Y/N’s legs squeezed around his lower half at the sound.

“A-another time? Aren’t you supposed to be teaching me how to k-kiss?” Her words came out in breaths, the legs wrapped around his body not loosening their grip.

The corner of his mouth twitched in amusement, “Yeah. And I did.”

One of his hands trailed up her right leg slowly, inching its way in between her thigh. He smirked teasingly, “I think you just lied to me, by the way. I think you’ve kissed a bunch of guys and just didn’t tell me.”

Y/N opened her mouth to let out a snarky response, but no words came out. It seemed she had finally came to her senses about their current position, immediately loosening her legs from his body, wondering what the hell had just happened and how she even got to be like this. She was embarrassed and extremely turned on, and the way Hyunjin was looking at her was enough to make her want to cover her face in hopes that she would disappear. So she did.

She could hear Hyunjin laughing, and she groaned in embarrassment. “Stop laughing at me! You’re so annoying!”

He rolled off of her, plopping down beside her on his bed before reaching up to gently pry her hands off of her face. Her face was red, eyes refusing to make eye contact. He rolled his eyes, “Stop being so shy. I’m not laughing at you, it’s just this whole situation was funny. And I’m laughing because you are a total fucking liar. What happened to pinky promises?”

“Funny? Nothing about this situation was funny! I’m not a liar, you idiot. I was following your lead like you asked me to. And now you’re sitting here laughing thinking this was funny and I’m frustrated now because you’re not even—“ Her eyes widened at where she was going with this, mouth immediately closing, wanting to go to the bathroom and vomit when realizing what she was about to say to him. He seemed to catch on to it, too, eyes intently starring at her, trailing their way down her body and back up to her face.

He smirked again, eye brows raising in amusement, his eyes holding a certain glint to them, “Well we can’t have you frustrated, can we?”

Y/N groaned again, giving him a shove before sitting up to grab the textbook off the floor, plopping it back onto the bed. “Shut up! Stop being so annoying and quiz me before I leave and never come back.”

“You would never. You love me too much.”

“Y/N?” A voice was heard, sounding slightly frantic. Y/N could feel her eyes watering, lip quivering, the music around her sounding muffled and estranged. “I know I’ve been asking this a lot, but are you… okay?”

Her vision started to get even more blurry. Her throat started to tighten up. The muffled sounds seemed to grow more faint.

And then she was crying.

Minho’s eyes widened, immediately moving to stand in front of her, hands gently grabbing her shoulders, “Shit, you’re definitely not okay. What’s wrong? Was it that prick from earlier? Did he do something? Do I need to beat somebody’s ass?”

“I miss him,” She cried, tears falling down and down and down, her make-up running down her face, eyes so empty. She hasn’t cried like this in months, and the tears just would not stop. They were flowing out like a river, and she would keep adding to that river if that meant he could finally come back to her.

“Who? Felix?” Minho asked, stressed as fuck. He has never seen her cry like this in the two years he has known her and simply did not know what he should do. He had texted Felix earlier and didn’t get a response, so now he was kind of freaking out, not the one to be big on comforting people.

“H-Hyunjin.” She choked out, words sounding foreign on her lips as she has not spoken his name out loud since her freshman year of college almost four years ago. Her heart tightened in her chest, letting out another loud sob, “Hyunjin. I-I miss him. I miss him so much.”

Minho didn’t even bother to ask who Hyunjin was, knowing it would just make things worse. Instead, he pulled out his phone, sending Felix another frantic text to GET HIS ASS OVER HERE ASAP.

“I miss him. I miss him s-so much.” The sobs were not stopping, and Y/N kept repeating the same words over and over again like she was in some trance. Minho couldn’t take it anymore, pulling her into his body, arms wrapping around her gently and protectively.

“Shh, it’s okay,” He whispered in her ear, one of his hands coming up to rub at her head soothingly, “It’s okay, Y/N. You’re okay.”

Y/N’s arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tighter. Her sobs were now being muffled in his dress shirt, tears flowing out and most likely ruining his shirt with her makeup, but he let her hold him, and he held her.

“Fuck, I didn’t see your texts until like two minutes ago,” A voice yelled over the music, and Minho looked to his side to see that Felix had finally shown up, panting slightly from sprinting over here, “What happened?”

“She’s calling out for Hyunjin,” Minho replied, voice getting intentionally quieter when saying his name, “I didn’t know what to do. She seems pretty fucking upset, and she’s wasted, too. I think she needs to go home.”

“Fuck,” Felix sighed, walking closer to Y/N, hand touching her shoulder, “Y/N, hey. It’s me.”

She lifted her head up, “Lix?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Can you grab onto me? I’m going to take you home so you can lay down and relax, okay? It’s been a long week for you.”

Y/N nodded with a hiccup, leaning out of Minho’s grasp and into Felix. He quickly put her arm around his shoulder, his arm circling around her waist, standing her up from the chair carefully. He looked at Minho, “Thank you for taking care of her. I’ll text when we’re back home.”

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll tell the others she got sick or something and had to go home.”

Felix nodded appreciatively, double checking to make sure he had her purse with him before walking slowly to the exit of the bar. Many stumbles and almost falls later, he had managed to get them both to his car in one piece, opening the passenger side door and carefully easing her into the seat, buckling her up before jogging to get into the drivers seat. Once he got in, he reached behind him to grab the plastic bag he kept in here in case Minho ever rode back with him from a night out, opening it and placing it into her lap.

“Here. If you feel like you might get sick, throw up in this bag.” He stated, not wanting another repeat of someone throwing up on his leather seats. His car had smelled like the seafood Minho devoured for a whole week, and he did not want to go through that torture again.

Y/N nodded, hiccuping again, tears still flowing down her cheeks, but not near as bad as earlier. She had calmed down some just from being in Felix’s presence, but her heart still ached and her head felt heavy. She was broken, and doesn’t think she would ever be fixed.

The ride back home was quiet. It had started to drizzle, and Y/N was watching the rain drops slowly falling on the window, the lights from the streets reflecting a glow on them. She watched them fall, drip down and down until the next one took its place, wondering if it was raining wherever he was. Was he watching the rain, too? Did he feel just as empty as she did?

Did he think of her when the stars were out?

The rain had started coming down harder now, just as they had pulled into the apartment complex. Felix turned the car off once he parked, a slightly awkward tension in the air, and Y/N sniffled, eyes still drawn to the rain.

“I miss him.” She whispered, voice slightly hoarse.

“I know,” Felix whispered back, glancing down to her hands, noticing they were slightly shaking. He gently placed a hand on top of hers and she let out a shaky breath.

Felix knew it all. He couldn’t understood the pain she felt, but he understood why she was in so much pain. Very rarely did she get like this in front of him. She has only had an episode like this three times about him the years Felix has known her, the first time being the worst.

They had met in Psychology their first year at university. Felix had complained about how their professor sounded like an absolute tool, and Y/N had agreed. It went from talking shit about their professor, to bonding over Mexican food, to watching movies in each other’s dorm. It was a quick-forming friendship—it was something they both needed without realizing.

Then, the party came along.

Felix’s frat had thrown a party like they did pretty much every weekend, and he had finally convinced Y/N to come. She showed up, he introduced her to his frat brothers, they danced, they drank, and next thing they know, they are stumbling into an empty bedroom, falling down on the bed and taking each other’s clothes off.

It all happened so fast. Felix was throwing his shirt over his head, Y/N was straddling him, and then she was riding him. It felt good, and it was what she thought she needed. But before they could both finish, Y/N was crying. And Felix was no longer interested in chasing his release.

He pulled her off of him and she had started sobbing harder. He remembers seeing how broken she looked, how defeated she looked. It was just too soon for her, and he wasn’t Hyunjin. He just wasn’t her Hyunjin.

Felix had held her and she had told him everything. Hyunjin and her growing up together, going through every phase of their lives together, him taking her virginity the night of their high school graduation, and then leaving her without a trace not even a day after.

He could not understand her pain, but he understood why she carried it with her. That’s why tonight, he said nothing more.

“I always thought it would get easier over the years. I thought I would get over it, get over him, but I can’t,” She whispered, once he had helped clean her up in the shower and got her ready for bed. She had sobered up a bit from all the crying and the water Felix had made her drink, eyes focusing on the window in her bedroom. It was still raining. “Everything reminds me of him. I just miss him so much. I want to hate him, but I can’t. I really can’t.”

And Felix let her talk and cry until she finally passed out, pulling her closer to him with her back against his front. It was beginning to thunder now, and the lightening lit up the room.

Y/N was not fine. She doesn’t think she’d ever be.

——>

The next morning came quickly.

Y/N had woken up to a screeching meow by her ear and something soft tickling her cheek. She opened her eyes groggily, barely being able to see what was currently rubbing against her face due to her eyes being so swollen and dry from all the crying she did. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hands, vision getting clearer, finally spotting the culprit.

It was a cat. But not just any cat, it was Soonie. And his owner was standing at the door, smiling creepily down at Y/N, letting out a, “Finally you’re awake! I brought your favorite kitty over to give you some cuddles!”

Y/N blinked. She looked at Soonie who was now purring and rubbing against her hand in attempts of letting her know he wanted her to pet him, and then she looked at Minho, still creepily smiling by the door.

“What… What the fuck?” She croaked out, cringing when her voice came out raspy, sounding like she had smoked ten packs a day.

“I told you not to wake her up yet,” Felix grumbled, walking into her bedroom and shoving past Minho. He set a glass of water down on the bedside table and an Ibuprofen, sitting down on the bed beside her. “Morning, sleepyhead. Minho brought us some bagels. And, strangely enough, his cat.”

“She loves him. And he missed her.” Minho retorted, walking over to pat Soonie on the head. Y/N couldn’t argue with that statement, smiling softly at the fact that Minho was being so nice this morning. However, the smile quickly turned into a frown when she realized the reasoning, a heavy feeling of embarrassment and dread overcoming her.

“I’m… I’m sorry you had to see me like that last night,” She quietly spoke, hand scratching underneath Soonie’s chin as she avoided eye contact. “I don’t know what got into me. I think it’s because I’ve just been working so much lately and I haven’t been getting any sleep, really. I’m just… it was really embarrassing. And I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward or uncomfortable. Both of you.”

Felix and Minho shared a look and Feix grabbed the glass of water and Ibuprofen, handing it out to her. “Here, go ahead and take this.”

Y/N took the pill first, placing it in her mouth before slowly bringing the water to her lips. She took a few gulps, wincing slightly when handing the glass back to him. Her head was fucking pounding.

“Don’t apologize, Y/N. You didn’t make either of us uncomfortable. We’re your friends and we’re always going to take care of you.” Felix softly spoke, and Y/N smiled gently. Neither of them didn’t ask any questions or press the situation further, and she really appreciated that.

“Want me to bring you a bagel?” Minho asked as Soonie curled up into her side.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, please. I honestly don’t think I can move to come downstairs right now.”

“Everything bagel with low-fat cream cheese coming right up!”

——>

Y/N was tired.

She woke up to her alarm going off at 1600, groaning in annoyance at the god-forsaken radar sound on her iPhone that never failed to put her in a terrible mood. She had worked the night before and got home from the hospital around 0815, showering and eating some of the pancakes Felix had made her before he had went to work that morning. He had left them in the fridge with a note giving precise instructions on how to heat them up so they could maintain that slight crisp on the edges, and she followed them to a tee, slicing up a banana to throw on top of them as well. They were delicious and put her in a much better mood, as the shift she had quite literally made her second guess her life decisions.

After eating her breakfast, she slowly walked up the stairs and into her bedroom, feeling so exhausted that she didn’t even feel like showering. But she made herself, not knowing what kinds of fluids and germs she had lingering on her scrubs, stripping them off and throwing them into the washing machine as she waited for the hot water to start steaming up the bathroom. The smell of eucalyptus flooded her senses once she stepped into the shower, immediately helping her relax. Minho had bought her some to hang over her shower head because he saw everyone using it on Tiktok and thought that she could benefit from it somehow. It smelled nice and it made her bathroom look a little more minimalistic in some way, so she kept it. And she hasn’t taken it down since.

She finally fell asleep around 1000, sound machine on and blackout curtains closed. It was honestly one of the best sleeps she has gotten in awhile, which was why she was more pissed than usual when her alarm went off, pressing the snooze button before falling back asleep. However, that only lasted a few minutes before her phone started ringing, and she groaned again before picking it up.

“Hello?” She croaked out.

“Good, you’re awake,” Felix’s voice flooded through the phone, “You told me to call you at precisely four-thirty, so here I am. Sleep well?”

“Slept great, actually. I want to suffocate myself in these pillows.”

“Please don’t do that,” He laughed, and Y/N could hear a car door closing on the other side of the phone. “I’m leaving work and heading to our place. Minho said he’s picking us up around seven to take us to that club.”

And fuck, Y/N had almost forgotten about that. Minho had asked them last weekend if they would be interested in going with him to this nightclub to hang out and meet his—as Felix calls them—celebrity friend and his band mates before the festival. Apparently they have been back in LA for a few days now and decided to rent out the entire club the night before the festival. Minho was so hyped about it and seemed like he really wanted Y/N and Felix to meet his friend, so they both agreed. And now Y/N was dreading it a little.

“Y/N? You didn’t fall back asleep, did you?”

“No, I’m here,” She replied, sighing into the complete darkness in her bedroom. She really wanted to go back to sleep but she knew if she slept any longer she wouldn’t be able to go to sleep later tonight, and then her sleep schedule would be more fucked up than it already is. Perks of working on night shift.

“You know we don’t have to go tonight, right?” He asked, the clicking of his turning signal going off in the background. “If you want to stay home, I’m sure Minho would understand. Don’t feel obligated.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it would be fun to meet some new people. Just don’t let me drink a lot this time.” She let out a laugh.

“You sure?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Yes, Lix. I’m sure. It’ll be fun.”

“Whatever you say,” He replied and Y/N let out a huff at his response, “You don’t have to worry about me so much, you know?”

“I know. You just haven’t gotten that bad in awhile. It’s natural for me to worry, you know? I just wanna look after you.”

“And I appreciate it, I really do. But I promise I’ll be fine. I think it’ll be fun to meet Minho’s celebrity friend and his celebrity friends. A bunch of celebrities!”

Felix chuckled at her comment, letting out a, “Right. I’ll be home in ten.”

The line ended, and Y/N let out a long sigh. The idea of who exactly Minho’s friend was came into her mind, and she brought her phone out to google the name of the band he was in, staring at the search bar as she tried to remember what they were called. Stay, something? Slay?

Oh well, she thought to herself upon realizing that she couldn’t remember what the band was called, locking her phone and tossing it to the side of her bed. She would find out in a few hours, anyway.

After about thirty more minutes of self-loathing, Y/N finally managed to get out of bed, dragging herself into her bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. She cringed when catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, hair sticking up in all sorts of directions. Some parts were still wet from her being too exhausted to dry it before she went to sleep and she groaned at the thought of having to blow dry it. It simply took way too long and her hair was naturally thick and curly, resembling a giant poof ball if any and all forms of heated air came near it. The Dyson Minho bought her helped some, but she still had to go over it afterwards with a curling iron or a straightener. Minho was constantly buying her and Felix stuff they didn’t necessarily need, but she appreciated him nonetheless.

After brushing her teeth, using the bathroom, and going through her entire skin care routine, she went to her closet to attempt to find an outfit that could fit the vibe tonight. Her closet mainly consisted of neutral colors, so really she just needed to decide if she wanted to wear pants or a dress. She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes scanning her clothes rack intensely. She caught sight of the many cocktail dresses she had towards the back, deciding to just wear the black one that already had a built in bra in it so she could go braless. It was simple, short, and sexy with a v-neck, and it showed off her curves nicely. She’d only worn it a few times (all times being at one of Minho’s business parties) and she remembered all the complements she had received each time. She decided that she deserved to feel sexy for one night, and if somebody wanted to take her home tonight, so be it. It was time for her to move on. Or to attempt to, at least.

The sound of the front door opening caught her attention as she took the dress out of her closet to hang up on the door handle, bending down to grab a pair of her black stilettos. As she was standing back up, her bedroom door opened, and the smell of chocolate chip cookies flooded her senses.

“That smells heavenly,” She moaned out once she turned around to see that Felix had—what appeared to be—a fresh batch of cookies in a little bag. She knew it was from his bakery as she caught sight of the little yellow duck logo with the Bbokkari’s Bakery underneath.

Felix let out a chuckle, “I just made a couple before I left work. I figured you could use a little pick me up from your terrible shifts you had this week.”

“You are simply the best,” She smiled in response, walking over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, grabbing the bag from his hands and eagerly taking a bite out of one of the six cookies, “These get better every-time I try them, seriously. And my shifts weren’t terrible, they can just be really draining. It’s been getting a lot lately.”

Felix smiled at her comment, eyes softening slightly, “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really. Just really need to have some self care days for myself. This festival and all should be pretty refreshing for me.”

Felix hummed in response, eyes shifting over to the pair of heels on the floor and the dress hanging up. “Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

Y/N nodded, mouth full of cookie as she hurriedly swallowed, “Yeah, does it look okay? You think I need to dress down some? I didn’t know what the vibe was gonna be, but we’re going to be in a room with celebrities so I wanted to, you know, look nice and not let them think Minho’s friends are slobs when he always looks like a freaking YSL model.”

Felix laughed, stepping more into the room to steal a cookie from the bag. The smell was getting too tempting. “No, I think that’s good. I was literally going to wear the same suit I wore to Minho’s business parties.”

“Yep, that’s where this dress is from.”

“I knew I recognized it from somewhere.”

They both broke out in a fit of giggles, happily munching on their cookies, and Y/N snorted out a, “We’re just some broke bitches, aren’t we?” which made them laugh even harder. Felix suddenly started coughing, patting his chest repeatedly, and Y/N mumbled out a, “oh shit!” before walking behind him to give his back a few heavy slaps. He finally calmed down, tears springing his eyes from the laughing and almost choking and Y/N let out another laugh.

“Yeah, let me leave before you actually make me suck down a piece of chocolate chip cookie and I can’t breathe.”

“Good idea.”

Almost two hours later, Y/N was stood facing her bathroom mirror, hair straightened and put into a slick back ponytail, makeup on. She looked okay, she supposed, hands trailing down from her waist and landing on her hips. The dress was tight, hugging her in all the right places, and she turned to the side to check out her ass, hands trailing over it briefly.

“Damn,” A voice startled her, and she jumped slightly before turning her head to see that Minho had walked into the room. “Checking yourself out, are you? I don’t blame you. You look hot, Y/N.”

Y/N scoffed with a grin, “You’ve seen me in this exact dress about three times before.”

“And it gets better each time.” He smirked in response, making Y/N laugh as she turned her bathroom light off and shoved past him to head back into her bedroom. She bent down slightly to grab the pair of heels before sitting down on her bed, putting them on.

“I know I say this every time you’re in a dress, but as your friend, I just have to. You look so hot. And your ass is so—“

“Are you harassing her again?” Felix spoke, leaning against the bedroom door with his arms crossed.

“Me? Never!” Minho gasped, giving Felix a look as he glanced over him from head to toe, “You look hot too, I guess.”

Felix rolled his eyes, and Y/N giggled, standing up once she had both heels on her feet. She walked to her closet to pull out her Gucci purse she had bought as a treat for herself recently, sliding it on her right arm before turning to face Felix and Minho. They were both starring at her, and Y/N glanced at both of them a couples times before letting out a, “What?”

“You’re just so hot. Honestly. Have you ever considered maybe—“

“Would you shut up? Geez, you need to get laid tonight or something.” Felix interrupted Minho again, and Minho scoffed in reply, “Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to. Just kidding, Y/N. You know I respect you and our friendship. Unless…?”

Y/N giggled again, shaking her head back and forth in disbelief before walking over to Minho, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Minho smirked, and Y/N then did the same to Felix, making sure to pinch his cheek afterwards for good measures. He hates that.

“Are we all ready to go, then?” Minho asked, straightening up his suit in Y/N’s floor length mirror briefly. They let out a choruses of yes’s, and then headed out towards Minho’s car.

“I can drive us home tonight. I’m not planning on drinking much at all.” Y/N spoke once she sat in the passenger side and buckled herself in. Felix was in the back, per usual, following suit.

“If that’s what you want, sure. I was planning on calling one of my assistants to come drive us back, though.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need to drink a lot. We all know how that turned out last time.” Y/N replied with a small laugh. She saw Minho glance at her from the corner of her eye.

“Are you… do you want to talk about it?” Minho asked in a soft voice, and Y/N immediately regretted the comment she made.

“No,” She softly replied, glancing out the window. She saw Felix in the side-mirror, eyes sharp as he glared at the back of Minho’s head. She let out a sigh, “I appreciate it, but no. It’s just a lot and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I just don’t want to drink much. That makes it worse for me.”

“I didn’t mean to bring it up, sorry. I just wanted to check in. I’m here if you need me. We both are.” He replied, glancing at Felix who was still glaring at him from the back seat. Y/N let out a hum of appreciation, leaning over to give his thigh a little squeeze to let him know she hears him.

Of course, Y/N knew that, and she appreciated it, but Minho doesn’t know. And she simply does not feel like talking about it. It’s not that she doesn’t trust him or feels uncomfortable with him, it’s just a lot for her to pour out every detail of her pathetic heartbreak to someone again.

It’s been years. Yet, she still can’t get over it. And it’s embarrassing, to say the least.

She hates it, and she hates herself for it.

Thirty minutes of throwback R&B songs later, they pulled up to the club, and Y/N thinks she has never seen a club so fancy before. Minho pulled around, cutting down the music slightly as a worker came up to his window. He rolled it down to converse with the guy as Y/N scrolled on her phone, not paying much attention. The car started moving again once Minho let out a, “Thanks man!” and he rolled the window back up.

“He knows my father. He was just checking to make sure we weren’t some obsessed fans or some shit. Told me to pull around towards the back and they’re going to park the car for us.” Minho said, pulling up towards the Valet parking seconds after. “Just a heads up, have your ID’s ready and be prepared to get pat down and have every single pocket checked. We will also have to sign a form before we go in.”

“What is this, an airport?” Felix scoffed out, unbuckling his seat belt and adjusting his button up.

Minho rolled his eyes, “It’s a celebrity party and we aren’t celebrities. It’s expected.”

“You’re more of one than we are.” Y/N mumbled, digging through her purse to pull out her ID. She was starting to get pretty nervous, and Minho could tell, leaning over towards her. “Hey, it’s fine. They’re just people, alright? I’m really excited for you guys to meet Chan. He’s awesome.”

Y/N smiled back just as someone in a ridiculously expensive suit tapped on the car window. She jumped slightly at the sound, and Minho smirked, flicking his head towards the entrance behind them, “Let’s go!”

Getting into the club was stressful. Y/N was stumbling over her feet, hands shaking slightly as she spoke with the security guards, holding in her breath as she quite literally got felt up by another security guard even though she had zero pockets on her dress. She let out a sigh of relief when they finally all got cleared, hands tightly wrapping around Felix’s arm once they got inside.

“Does this happen every time non-celebrities come to these things?” Y/N asked, feet trying to keep up with Felix’s as his tried to keep up with a very eager Minho who was basically sprinting down the hallway.

“Yep. When I’m with my father it isn’t as bad, though. I’ve only been to a couple of celebrity outings by myself.” He replied, rounding a corner to what Y/N assumed was the bar area.

It went from walking through an empty hallway, to entering a room with what seemed like a hundred people. There was music playing fairly loud, a playlist of some R&B, and the place smelled heavily of weed. Y/N scrunched her nose, glancing towards Felix who was looking around the place in awe, then at Minho who was currently talking with the bartender. When did he even walk up there?

Minutes later he came back up to them with two drinks in his hands, handing one to Felix. “Here. I got you a drink. It’s tequila sour.”

Felix scrunched his nose, “Tequila already? You know this shit makes me feral.”

“Exactly. Y/N’s our DD tonight, anyway. Drink up, blondie.”

Felix rolled his eyes, grabbing the drink anyway and taking a sip. His eyes widened, letting out a, “Shit, Y/N, you gotta take a sip. This is some high brand tequila.”

“I think I might throw up if I taste any kind of tequila right now.” Y/N replied, and Minho chuckled, taking a gulp of his beer. Y/N glanced around her again, seeing that multiple people were on the dance floor grinding on each other, others were in corners smoking weed or socializing with alcohol in their hands, and then there were people like her and Felix who were just standing around looking so out of place. Everyone here looked expensive and at home, while they most definitely did not. Y/N could feel the nerves coming back in, and she gripped Felix’s arm even tighter, but he didn’t notice, eyes glancing around the place in awe with the straw from his drink hanging out of his mouth.

“I just texted Chan and told him we were by the bar. He should be here soon,” Minho spoke with a wide grin, a happy sigh leaving his mouth as he looked around the place, “I am so ready to get shit-faced. You guys want some pot? Chan can get us some.”

“No thanks.”

“Hell yeah.”

Y/N and Felix looked at each other once answering at the same time, Felix’s eyes wide and glistening from the mention of free weed. “You guys really are two peas in a pod, aren’t you? Answering at the same time and shit,” Minho chuckled, and Y/N sighed. “Lix, I can get us some. Y/N, what about an edible? I know you only said no because you hate smoking shit.”

Felix’s eyes widened even more in excitement, letting out a, “Yes! Get her some. She needs it so she can relax for once.”

“I am relaxed!”

“You’re most definitely not. You’re cutting off my circulation with your freakishly insane grip you have on my arm. It doesn’t have to be a lot, just a tiny bit to loosen up some.” Felix replied, eyes softening slightly when seeing the slightly annoyed look on her face, “Or you don’t have to! I can get you a coke from the bar and you can happily sip on that. I bet they have coke zero.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, and before she could reply, she heard Minho’s name being yelled, looking up in surprise to see a guy dressed in all black walking towards them with his arms spread outwards. Minho let out a loud laugh, meeting the guy halfway and embracing him in a hug. Y/N and Felix shared a look, and Y/N whispered out a, “Is that famous bestie Chan?”

“I think so,” Felix whispered back, taking another sip of his drink, and Y/N took the time to observe the guy while they had their little moment.

He wasn’t super tall, but was built nicely. He had one small hoop earring in his right ear and another on his nose. His arms were covered in a variety of tattoos, a silver chain hanging around his neck. The shirt he had on was tight, and Y/N could tell that he definitely worked out.

“Let me introduce you to my friends!” Minho suddenly yelled out, leading them over towards where Felix and Y/N stood. They immediately stood up straight, and Felix cleared his throat briefly when noticing they were heading towards them rather quickly.

“Chan, this is Felix and Y/N. They’re my friends from uni,” Minho introduced them with a wide grin on his face, “And this is Chan, my buddy from home.”

Felix was the first to speak, wasting no time in extending his free hand out towards Chan, which he took quickly, “It’s so nice to meet you! Minho here has told us a lot about you.” He grinned, and Y/N stifled a laugh, knowing that the only time Minho had even mentioned he had a celebrity friend was last week. He’s a private person.

“Yeah, man, it’s nice to meet you, too! Any friend of Minho’s is always a friend of mine.” Chan smiled, and Y/N found herself doing the same. His smile was just contagious.

“And it’s nice to meet you, as well,” He adverted his attention over to Y/N, and she blushed slightly when he planted a small kiss on the back of her hand. “Thank you guys for coming. I hope you’re excited for the festival tomorrow. Hopefully we don’t disappoint.”

“You could never! We’re stoked to get to go!” Felix replied way too enthusiastically, and Y/N had to refrain from rolling her eyes, “We’ve actually never been to a metal-type festival, so we’re pretty excited to see you guys perform. I know Minho definitely is.”

Minho rolled his eyes teasingly while Chan laughed, “Yeah, it isn’t for everyone, but I hope you genuinely enjoy it.”

Y/N, realizing she hasn’t spoken a word since Chan arrived, opened her mouth to give some input to the conversation, when another guy interrupted her by stumbling into their little circle, arm settling over Chan’s back. “There you are! I’ve got some people looking for you. Wanna know if you want to do some body shots.” He loudly spoke, taking a long sip out of his glass in his hand.

“Perfect timing, I was trying to find you earlier so I could introduce you to Minho and his friends,” Chan replied, patting the guy’s chest briefly to catch his attention. The guy’s eyes widened slightly, letting out a, “Oh, shit, sorry! I’m Changbin. The sexiest from the group.”

“As if,” Chan scoffed out, shoving him to the side lightly, “More like the loudest.”

“Think you’re forgetting about Jisung over there.” Changbin pointed out, nodding his head over towards, supposedly, Jisung who was currently doing a body shot on some girl in a lingerie set, yelling extremely loud once he finished, voice being heard very clearly over the booming of the music and the many cheers.

Chan winced slightly, “Don’t remind me.”

Minho laughed before conversing with Changbin, who she noticed was also wearing all black, letting out a, “I guess I picked the right color to wear tonight.”

Chan quickly look Y/N over from head to toe, letting out a smirk, “You did. You all did. Black just matches everything, you know? You look great, too.”

Y/N smiled, letting out a small thank you, and Chan smiled back warmly in response before walking over to drape his arm over the back of Minho, “So you’ve met Changbin and got an unforesaken glimpse of Jisung, so now I just have to find the other one. He’s probably on the dance floor somewhere. Let me buy you guys a round of drinks and introduce you to some others.”

Felix’s eyes lightened up at the mention of free drinks, quickly chugging down his and letting out a loud sigh once he finished. “Damn, slow down.” Y/N laughed out.

“Can’t. Famous bestie Chan is buying a round of drinks, and I don’t want him to think I’m a slow drinker and can’t keep up.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Literally nobody is thinking that.”

Felix chose to ignore her, tugging her arm slightly to lead them towards the bar, seeing that they were already up there ordering. “Should we do a round of shots or do you guys prefer a drink? I’d be happy to do both. Changbin also has some pot brownies in the back if you’re interested in that, too.”

“This might be the best night of my life,” Felix whispered, and Y/N elbowed him in the ribs, making him let out a wince. “Do you like pot brownies, or something?” Changbin laughed out, gulping down the rest of his drink. The tattoos on his bicep caught Y/N’s attention, the mix of swirls and figures she couldn’t exactly make out. He did not have as many as Chan did, and Y/N wonders if they all have some sort of tattoos on their skin.

“Love them. Can’t ever find any good ones,” Felix replied, setting his glass down on the table, “Also, I’m down for anything. We can drink whatever.”

Chan and Minho must have decided on shots, as a couple seconds later, they turned around with five in their hands, a menacing smirk gracing Minho’s lips as he swayed over towards Y/N and Felix. “Here, hoes. It’s your favorite.”

“Min, you know I didn’t want to drink tonight.” Y/N whined out, obviously devastated at the fact that Minho had brought her a lemon drop shot. Seriously, he knew she was a sucker for those. And the grin on his face was not helping one bit.

“Exactly, it’s your favoriteee,” He sang out, waving the shot underneath her nostrils. It was even coated with a nice sugar rim, and was that a mini lemon slice on the edge of the glass? She’s sold.

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” She groaned out, jerking the shot out of his hand with an exaggerated eye roll, and Chan immediately began laughing.

“Damn, Minho. You’re still just as bad of an influence as you were in middle school, aren’t you?”

“Yes, he is!” Y/N spoke up before Minho could, Felix letting out a noise of agreement, knowing he couldn’t protest. “He is the worst! The absolute worst! But he does take good care of us, I guess.” She shrugged, and Chan chuckled in reply.

“Good. Otherwise, I’d have to beat his ass.”

“Like you ever could. Remember who always won in our fights? You could never take me.”

Minho and Chan then began to argue, Y/N and Felix watching in amusement, when Changbin suddenly interrupted them with a, “Yah! Could you two stop bickering for a second so we can take these shots? I’m trying to get shit-faced tonight.”

Chan rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around Changbin and bringing him into the circle Y/N realized they had unintentionally formed. “Alright, fuckers. Cheers to new friends, music, and hot girls in lingerie sets waiting for us to do body shots on!” He shouted out, tapping his glass with everyone’s. They all downed it in one gulp, Felix letting out a, “Hell yeah!” as he slammed his glass down on the table.

Y/N gave him a look, “You almost broke the damn glass.”

“Sorry. I got too excited.” He sheepishly grinned.

A couple of people starting yelling Chan and Changbin’s name, making Y/N look up to see a group of guys waving them over. They were dressed to the nines, glasses in their hands as they drunkingly wobbled back and forth. She let out a small gasp when one of them toppled over onto the floor, and Chan sighed, running his hand through his styled hair.

“Those idiots,” He mumbled, “They’re Jisung’s friends. And they think we’re best friends or some shit. All they do is give me high blood pressure whenever they come to these things.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty annoying. But so is Jisung, so that explains it,” Changbin spoke, grabbing a beer from the bartender and turning around to face Chan, “I’ll go talk to them. You can take your friends and introduce them to some people or give them a tour or whatever. I’ll catch up in a bit.”

He then turned to face Y/N, Minho, and Felix, giving them a wide grin and giving them each a small hug, which they all didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. He smelled like mint and wood, Y/N noticed—a weird combination that somehow seemed fitting. “Nice to meet you guys. I’m sure I’ll see you around a good bit. Let me know if you ever need anything! A friend of Chan’s is always a friend of mine.”

“Will do, thanks man.” Minho grinned in return. Y/N watched him walk off, giggling slightly when she saw him roll his eyes whenever the guys grabbed his shoulders. She felt Felix lean into her slightly, and she gripped his arm in return, eyes glancing around the crowd.

The song had changed, The Weeknd now blaring through the speakers. Y/N swayed slightly, a small grin gracing her lips as she saw a large group of people dancing. “Anybody want to dance?” She asked, tugging Felix’s arm.

“Let’s do it.”

Y/N grabbed Minho and Feix’s hands, Chan following closely behind them with a laugh, leading them all into the middle of what appeared to be the dance floor for the night. She giggled, hips immediately moving to the beat of the music, standing in-between Minho and Felix, grins on their faces.

This is exactly what she needed: her, and her best friends in the middle of a club dancing with Minho’s celebrity friend. This is exactly what she needed—it was all she needed. It was all she needed to begin to move on.

Minho then decided to break out the stanky leg, the laugh Y/N was about to let out dying in her throat as she turned around.

Time seemed to stop. The music that was blaring turned into a loud ring in her ears, white noise taking over her head. Her heart felt like it just beat right out of her chest, all the breath in her lungs getting caught in her body. White, white, white—all she was seeing was white in the midst of the bodies gracing the dance floor as she felt her body melt to the ground as nothing—for that is all she was in his presence.

“Hyunjin!” Chan had shouted, catching his attention as he eagerly waved him over, calling him over towards them, confirming what she knew was already true.

She felt someone lightly shaking her, a muffled sound in her ears. She had watched as he turned around at the voice, wide grin on his face, a glimmer in his eyes. She had watched as his eyes immediately met hers, the grin fading as quickly as it came, a look of remorse painting itself on his face. There was a girl on his arm, one of the girls in a lingerie set, bright red lips kissing his neck, hands trailing down his torso.

She felt nauseous. Her head was spinning, and she could feel her heart dying all over again.

It wasn’t until she felt herself stumbling backwards into a body that she regained consciousness—music and frantic words filling her ears as her face was shoved into a chest, a hand holding the back of her neck protectively. She took some deep breaths, gripping the sides of Felix’s shirt before looking up at him.

That’s him, her eyes spoke, and he knew immediately.

“Wait, did he say Hyunjin?” Minho asked, and Y/N’s vision went from white to red.

“I need some air.” She let out, roughly getting out of Felix’s grasp as she stumbled through the crowd of people. It felt like she was underwater, not being able to breathe until she swam to the surface, gasping loudly once she made it out of the back doors.

She gripped her chest, chest heaving with exertion, wheezes coming out in strangled breaths. She slowly slid down against the brick wall, eyes watering. She could feel her throat closing up, hands and legs shaking, gasping loudly in attempt to compensate for the shortness of breath she was experiencing, mind clouded with Hyunjin.

Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.

“Fuck, she’s having a panic attack!” A voice yelled, as multiple pairs of loafers came into view. She heard Felix talking to her, could smell Minho’s cologne. Yet, she couldn’t focus on anything for more than three seconds at a time, the gasps coming out more forcefully now as her whole body began to shake.

“Get the fuck away from her!”

Another voice, a voice all too familiar was heard, coming through one ear and right out the other. A pair of black boots came into view, a body crouching down, pulling her into a hug. The smell of musk and soap and a hint of floral invaded her senses, a smell she remembered all too well—a sense of comfort. She immediately relaxed.

The gasps got shorter, quieter, until you could no longer hear them at all. Her body stilled, hushed whispers filling her mind, and she went limp, mind clouding with plush lips and warmth.

Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.

She looked up. He was already starring at her.

And god—he was beautiful. He was still beautiful, just as she knew he would be.

She took a good look at him, eyes trailing from his eyebrow piercing, to his long black hair perfectly tucked behind his ears, to his lip ring that sat so elegantly against his bottom lip, the silver blending with the red plush of his lips. He had tattoos over his neck, shapes and swirls captivating her as she followed them with her eyes, moving downward to see that he had even more on his arms. She couldn’t see his chest, but she had a feeling there was even more underneath his black tee, and her breath hitched once she caught his eyes again, his dark eyes that never once looked away from hers.

Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin.

He was here. But why did it still feel like he wasn’t?

Before she could process everything, she lifted her right hand up without thinking, hand coming in contact right with his cheek. Her hand stung, his face moving to the side from the slight force, a light area of redness forming onto his skin. Gasps were heard behind him, but Y/N wasn’t paying attention at who was even surrounding them, eyes focused on him.

He stayed like that for a moment, face turned to the side, hair falling in front of his face, before scoffing loudly, turning back around to face her. A smirk graced his lips, and Y/N felt herself wanting to slap him again.

So she did.

“Hey! You can’t keep hitting him! He’s the face of this band, you know?!” A voice yelled out, and before Felix or Minho could yell anything back, he interrupted them.

“S’fine. I deserved that.”

His voice was deeper, a slight rasp to it, but still had the same softness that she was used to. He still had the same smirk on his lips, which pissed Y/N off even more, and she reached her hand up to strike him again out of spite when he had caught her, hands gently grasping her wrist.

“Come on now, sweetheart. Don’t you think two was enough?”

His voice was mocking, the smirk on his lips widening, eyes brows raising. He rubbed her wrist with his fingers, slowly bringing her hand down to rest it on his chest. She could feel his heart beat pounding against her hand, and she almost cried at the fact that he was real and he was touching her.

“I think you should leave her alone. She really doesn’t look like she wants anything to do with you, all offense. You really have no right to be touching her after you just gave her a fucking panic attack—“

“She gets those, sometimes. She gets anxious and overwhelmed, and sometimes it causes her to have one,” He interrupted Felix’s voice, hand curling around hers as he intertwined their hands, eyes refusing to leave hers. “I know what to do when she gets them. Don’t tell me to do shit, man.” He spat out, voice getting louder in slight irritation, and Y/N took this opportunity to snatch her hand out of his grasp, holding it with her other hand and cuddling it up to her chest.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened slightly, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Y/N interrupted him with a soft, “Hyunjin?”

She knew it was him, and she knew he was real, but she needed him to hear her say his name. She needed him to respond.

“Hey, Pedal,” He whispered in reply, and her eyes filled with tears.

She refused to cry in front of him though, shoving him to the side as she quickly stood up, wobbling slightly, pulling her dress down with a forceful tug before speed-walking away from him. She pushed her way past Minho and Felix, ignoring their frantic voices, ignoring anything and everything around her as she entered the club once again, desperately looking around for the bathroom.

She finally found it, slamming the door shut once she got inside, back against the door as she slumped down once more, tears falling down her cheeks.

She knew her makeup was definitely ruined, but she didn’t even care. She couldn’t bring herself to care.

His smirk was replaying in her mind. He was her Hyunjin, but he wasn’t anymore. And he was here, right in front of her, but he wasn’t. If she would have just remembered the name of the stupid band and looked them up she could have avoided all of this. Of course Hyunjin was in a band. Of course he was the lead singer. Of course he was still just as beautiful as he was years ago, just as he always was.

She sobbed harder, cuddling the hand he had just held to her chest, hoping to find comfort in a piece of him that has been lost for years.

The brightest star in the sky was always accompanied by another. Hyunjin was the brightest, and Y/N simply was the other. That’s all she would ever be.

[dollysilena]

TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER THREE | BABY ON BOARD

ao3 | series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu– now, present day– he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball’s biggest star.

wc & notes: 3.5k — this chapter was originally going to be 7k+ words, but for my own sanity during editing i decided to split it in two different chapters instead! i also thought it would be easier to read in separate chapters instead of just one really condensed one so pls forgive me 🗿

The past twelve hours had been a whirlwind for Miya Atsumu.

His day started late, but not out of his own fault! He swore it. It was just because his alarm clock didn’t go off. At least that’s what he told Coach Foster when he walked into practice late with a Starbucks frappuccino. But hey, at least he got one for everyone right? The team nutritionist yelled at him later for it because sugar wasn’t on the regiment, especially with the V-League season so soon. Hinata gladly slurped down the drink though, which consequently sent him into a sugar rush later. And once that happened, their coach chewed out Atsumu for the ginger’s erratic playing. It seemed like the scolding was neverending, but he shook it off as practice continued. He thought that the rest of the day was going to go on without any more hitches, up until he got a call from his brother. 

“She’s here right now with a kid. He’s four years old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like ya is a coincidence.”

The air stilled, and despite the clamor and ruckus of the gym around him, all Atsumu heard was the ringing in his ears and the silence on Osamu’s end. A kid?

There was no way. Osamu was just messing with him, right? It was just a prank, Suna or one of their friends probably put him up to it. There’s no way that… that he actually… He thought of you, something his mind hadn’t crossed paths with in awhile. You were just a girl who left him high and dry five years ago… without a word. He wanted to tell himself he wasn’t convinced, but something lurching in his stomach told him otherwise.

The denial didn’t stop Atsumu from abruptly running out of practice. He would deal with what the coaches had to say later.

FIVE YEARS AGO — INARIZAKI HIGH SCHOOL

“What’s up with ya?” Atsumu questioned, slumping down on the seat infront of your desk as he faced yours. “Yer acting funny, ya sick or something?”

Atsumu couldn’t care less about the fact he was bothering you in the middle of class, all he could think about is how weird you’ve been acting with him. He thought things were going good with you over the past few weeks, maybe a little too good considering you both… He shook it off. You’ve been acting odd all week, suddenly barely sparing him a glance. Despite the fact you both weren’t dating, he had to admit it was bugging him more than it should’ve.

“What makes you say that?” You responded, almost defensively. You didn’t look up from your math worksheet, and to anyone else, it would just look like you were focused on your work, but Atsumu knew you were distracted, you hadn’t moved from the same problem for over ten minutes. 

“Well, ya barely have been talking to me this week first of all,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “And not to mention one of your friends told me you went home early yesterday because of food poisoning.” He didn’t mean to reveal that he had been asking around about you, but you didn’t seem to linger on it.

You fiddled with the pencil on your desk, clearly avoiding his eyes. “Why does it matter to you? It’s none of your business, Miya.”

Miya? Harsh.

“And here I thought ya liked me!” Atsumu replied, melodramatically clutching his chest as if he were wounded, albeit, his ego was admittedly a little bruised. “Of course what my girl does matters to me.”

You couldn’t help yourself from cracking a smile, and Atsumu considered it a victory. 

“We’re not even dating, we met a couple weeks ago,” you replied, shaking your head. 

Atsumu rolled his eyes. Though, you were right, you had never made anything official. It was all just harmless fun, right? 

“That didn’t seem to matter when we–”

“Be quiet!” you hissed in embarrassment. Atsumu smirked when he noticed how flustered you got. When you realized Atsumu wasn’t going to let up, you gave him another sigh. 

“I think I’m just not feeling well, probably a stomach bug or something.”

“Blegh!” Atsumu replied, sticking out his tongue. “Well don’t give it to me!”

You bore a small grin at him. Atsumu smiled back, happy that he was at least able to make you feel a little better that day.

He didn’t think that would be the last time he ever saw you.

He was going to walk you home that day and he even considered finally formally asking you out. Granted, he probably should have done that before the… bathroom incident, but he digressed. He went to your classroom later only to find your desk empty. Your classmates already said you left and he shrugged it off. He would just wait until the next day.

Then you were absent the next day, and the day after.

 It wasn’t until a whole week had passed where he felt himself starting to get worried.

You weren’t answering his texts, and after awhile, they didn’t even deliver anymore. He thought things were going well, at least to him they were… Whatever, he wasn’t going to let it get to him. If you didn’t want to talk to him anymore, so be it, it wasn’t his problem. People walked out on him all the time. He repeated it like a mantra, whatever, whatever, whatever.

But it doesn’t stop him from thinking.

As the days progressed, he felt himself plunging deeper into his doubtful thoughts.  You weren’t avoiding him on purpose were you? He didn’t realize how much it was getting to him until he missed practically every set during practice because he was too busy thinking of your smile at him instead of where Osamu’s hand was. He was tired of it, he finally decided he wasn’t going to wait for you to show up. He would get the answers himself.

Afterschool, he followed the trek to your house and stirred silently. Why was he even bothered this much about some girl he barely knew? You weren’t the first girl he was with, and he didn’t plan for you to be the last. So why was it bothering him so much? He wasn’t sure why, but it crept up his spine like a chill. 

Miya Atsumu isn’t someone you can leave, he’s always made sure of it. He’s never the one left behind. He doesn’t want to be. 

He stood on your doorstep, deliberating with himself if it was even worth it. But he didn’t come all this way for nothing. Even if you told him to get lost, atleast it would put an end to his endless lamenting. It would be better than having you plague him like a damn fever. He knocked.

He doesn’t expect your mother to answer.

“What do ya mean she moved?” Atsumu asked in disbelief.

“She’s gone to live with her grandmother in Kagawa,” your mother stated firmly. “I don’t think you’ll be seeing her anytime soon.”

Before Atsumu could pry for any other details, your mother spoke again.

“Don’t ever come back to this house.”

Then the door was slammed in his face.

PRESENT DAY

Despite his best attempts at staying in denial, he realized that all the signs were there. You were getting sick, avoiding him, your sudden disappearance. He should have known something was wrong when your mother forbade him from coming back without a reason. His mind was a flurry as he rushed through the streets of Osaka. The little voice in the back of his head that was saying it was impossible was getting flooded out, it was entirely too possible. 

In his rush inside Onigiri Miya, he was met with a body crashing into him. He looked down to see a horrified face infront of him, it’s yours. And in your arms, an unassuming boy that looked indisputably like him. A moment passed, as if the world stopped spinning on its axis. The panic seemed to be flooding out of your body and into the room. His mouth felt dry and whatever was spinning through his mind was suddenly a standstill. His gaze followed back to the boy, and his heart lurched.

There was no doubt about it, he had a son.

Even if you hadn’t told him, Atsumu could instinctively already tell, something in his gut just knew. He shared his smile, his brown eyes, and even his naturally dark hair that swept in the same way Atsumu’s did when he was that age. There was a piece of him out there, and he didn’t know all these years.

He barely choked out, “could we talk?”

While you both spoke at the table together, and as he gazed at Haru playing with Osamu and your friend not far away, he found himself wondering so many questions. What had Haru looked like when he was a baby? What was he like? Was he more energetic and lively like him? Or more quiet and reserved like his brother was? Was anyone there to help you through the pregnancy? What were his first words? Did he ever ask about him once he was old enough to understand what a father was?

“Atsumu, you realize what you’re asking right? You’re agreeing to be a father, which you just found out right now of all things. It’s a commitment, no take backsies.”

He knew he should’ve weighed the circumstances more, you were right after all, it was a commitment, a life-long one. Not to mention he barely found out an hour ago. Did he even know how to be a father? Infact, Atsumu hadn’t even considered kids in his life yet. He thought he had a long time before he thought he ever had to make that decision.

He thought about Haru, and how for years, he didn’t grow up with a father. His jaw hardened. Four years was too long for him to be absent. He couldn’t just… walk out. When he looked at Haru, he couldn’t possibly think of going on with living his life while knowing his son was out there. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

After your talk and once the situation was settled, atleast as much as it could be, Atsumu had offered to walk you home for the night. You decided to opt out of the company party you were attending for obvious reasons, and Naomi made sure to pass the news on to your boss about a “family emergency”.

 Now there he was, walking down the streets with his ex highschool fling, and his child. Whoever said life worked in unexpected ways, he wasn’t quite imagining this.

You both walked in silence, with Haru in your arms as he slept soundly. Atsumu wasn’t sure what to say, or if he even wanted to break the silence, so he kept quiet. Throughout the walk, he found himself stealing glances at you, and it felt as if he were meeting you all over again. You obviously weren’t the same girl he knew all those years ago. You held yourself up with a maturity he felt like he couldn’t match. Unlike him, sometimes he still felt like the clumsy kid he was in highschool. Maturity was something he always seemed to lack. His friends and brother always made sure to remind him of that whenever he behaved so. 

He looked down at Haru, still fast asleep. He imagined it was well past his bedtime now. You stifled a yawn as you carried the small boy, the tiredness seemed to be contagious. He saw your shoulders beginning to sag, and Atsumu realized you had been carrying him for the better portion of the walk.

“Here, let me take him,” he offered. “You’re tired.”

You looked up at him, with a raised eyebrow. “Have you held a kid before?”

He felt himself pause. Had he held a kid before? There were a few times at family reunions where he held the children of distant family members but that had all been for mere seconds before another family member scooped them up. He remembered how his mom was able to hold him and his brother at once for hours on end, how hard could it be?

“No, but I want to try seeing as I have one now.”

You laughed and extended Haru out to Atsumu, who gently took the boy as if he were made of porcelain. Haru shifted in his sleep, but comfortably adjusted into the setter’s arms.

He heard your laugh beside him and he immediately stiffened up. Had he done something wrong?

“He’s not a volleyball,” you chuckled, “hold him up from here.” You went to adjust Atsumu’s position and pushed up his arm so Haru’s weight could rest on it. He felt his cheeks burn in embarrassment, apparently it was harder than he thought.

“Good,” you replied, patting his arm, and he had to stop himself from blushing when he felt your fingers brushing his arm. “Now just keep him there.”

Atsumu nodded as you continued your walk. It’s then that the thought hit him—when he was finally holding Haru in his arms—that he's his. 

His arms instinctively held Haru tighter. No, he couldn’t be doubtful now. There was too much on the line and too much time lost. Unlike the past four years, he swore that he would be there from now on, no matter what.

You both rounded the corner before you got to your apartment complex, a smaller building in the quieter part of the city. You both had lived here all this time, and he didn’t know. Had he ever walked down this street unknowingly?

“This is us,” you stated, gesturing to the building. He felt himself trying to come up with something to say, but nothing came out. He just knew he didn’t want the night to end, there was still so much he had to know.

“Would you like to come in for a bit? I have some pictures of Haru I could show you.” You asked, and it was like you read his mind.

“I would like that.”

He followed you inside and into the elevator where you led him to your apartment. You flicked on the lights and Atsumu glanced around. He looked around and saw Haru’s toys laying about, pictures of the two of you framed around the home, he even spotted Haru’s homework still strewn out on the coffee table. You both crept inside, careful to be quiet as to not wake Haru. You led him down a hallway and opened a door to what he presumed was Haru’s room, and ushered him inside. 

Atsumu carried the boy inside his room, and looked around. He saw his drawings framed along the walls, toys, stuffed animals, and noticed a volleyball near his toy trunk. He made a mental note to ask Haru about that later. He padded over to the bed, and set him down so he was laying. You came up beside him, and tucked the covers over him before kissing his forehead. 

He realized this was the first time he was putting his son to sleep. Was this what having a family was like?

You both quietly exited the room, making sure to close Haru’s door so he wasn’t disturbed by you both outside.

“I can make us some tea,” you said, as he nodded. He didn’t even really like tea, he was just glad he could stay. He followed you to the kitchen, where he took a seat at the kitchen island while you put the kettle on the stove.

“Is it just ya two here?” He asked, looking around. You had some pictures framed up, as well as some photographs hung on the fridge which he could see. But from what he could tell, it was only you, Haru, and sometimes Naomi in the photos.

“Yup,” you responded, pulling out two mugs from the cabinet above you. “Since Haru was born, really.”

Atsumu felt his heart in his stomach. “Even when ya were pregnant?”

Atsumu saw you still, and he hoped he didn’t open an old wound. He scolded himself for not being more sensitive, and letting his own curiosity get the better of him. 

“When I told my parents, they kicked me out,” you stated bluntly, putting the tea bags in the cups. “They sent me to live with my grandmother, who was amazingly supportive, but she died before Haru was born, so since then it was just us.”

Atsumu was silent, he wasn't sure what to say. I’m sorry? I’m sorry that I wasn’t there? But that wasn’t enough, it didn’t change what you had to go through. The thought of you being in that delivery room by yourself only added onto the guilt on his shoulders, and his heart sank even further when he realized you had to do everything else alone too.

“Atleast Haru’s birth was quick!” You joked, a smile beaming on your face. Despite all that, you were still… positive? Atsumu was in disbelief, he probably couldn’t go through a fraction of what you had and still manage to put on a brave front. He always got into a mood, as Osamu called it, even at the smallest of inconveniences. You pushed a cup of tea towards him which he took graciously.

“Yer amazing,” he said in awe.

“It’s just tea,” you laughed, blowing on your cup. Atsumu shook his head.

“No,” he responded. “For everything. For what ya had to go through, and what you’ve done for Haru. And at eighteen? Osamu was still packing my lunches when I was that age.”

You laughed in response and it made his cheeks warm. He liked the sound, he thought.

“Let me get those photo albums I was talking about,” you said before walking into another room. You came back a few minutes later holding a few photo books.

 “Do you wanna start with the first one?” You asked, holding one out.

Atsumu eagerly nodded as he took the dusty blue album, decorated with ribbons and stickers. He could tell you had decorated it yourself. It showcased a picture of you holding a newborn Haru in the hospital. The picture almost made Atsumu frown, knowing you were by yourself that day, but he ended up smiling seeing how proudly you beamed holding the baby. He opened the book and inspected inside.

There was a sonogram of each phase Haru was in during your pregnancy, and eventually a few photos of Haru being born in the hospital. He saw the tiny notes you wrote besides the pictures, and his mouth grew agape when he saw 3.68kg written next one of Haru’s pictures.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, noticing his expression. “He was a big baby, I guess since his dad’s a pro athlete and everything.”

His face grew more horrified and he almost wanted to apologize. He apologize to his mom too considering she had twins. Then another picture caught his attention.

 “Hey, what’s this one?” He asked, pointing to another photo.

He pointed towards a picture that looked somewhat recent, he could tell since Haru seemed to be almost the same age in the picture as he was now. It was of you in a graduation cap and gown holding up Haru proudly who looked like he was cheering. It definitely wasn’t your high school graduation since Haru was in it.

“Oh, that’s when I graduated from university last year.”

“Ya completed university?” Atsumu asked in astonishment.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Pretty proud of myself. I was working two jobs and had to take night classes for a couple years but I ended up getting my degree finally a few months ago, then I got a great job at the firm I’m at now.”

No, you’re not just amazing, you’re phenomenal.

The rest of the night was filled with you and Atsumu looking over Haru’s pictures, some of his favorites being Haru’s second birthday where he had cake painted across his face from where he tried to eat his birthday cake face-first, his first day of preschool (which he found out he started this year), and one of you and Haru at a festival with matching daifuku in hand. He made a mental note to take you both when he saw how brightly you both smiled. Whenever he wasn’t looking at the photos, he was paying attention to you. He was getting to know you again.

“It’s getting late,” you yawned. “I have work tomorrow, and I probably have to explain why I missed the party tonight.”

Atsumu groaned. “That reminds me, I have to explain to my coaches tomorrow why I ran out of practice, they probably won’t believe me though.”

You giggled, before sliding out the picture of Haru’s second birthday from the book. “Maybe you can use this as proof.”

Atsumu took the photo and smiled warmly in the picture in his hands. The picture would find a well-loved home in his wallet, but would later be replaced with a picture of the three of you adorning matching jerseys on Haru’s eighth birthday at one of Atsumu’s games.

reblogs, comments, & asks are appreciated!

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[papillon-stories]

Go Eunhyuk x reader ꕥ Argument headcanons ꕥ

OMG, I'm so sorry... ! 🫣 I was so caught up with classes and work!

I’m not blind to the requests you sent me, I just paused everything because these last few months were so intense. But I feel like writing about Eunhyuk is my only pleasure of the day (in my era delulu)

But I didn't give up, ehehe. In the meantime, here's a little headcanon, hoping you'll like it. I love you all! Please have an Eunhyuk in your life, it's important for your well-being.

Happy reading !

Warning : None, I'm kidding. No worries. Just my English.

He hates arguing with his s/o.

Most of the time, he is the mature one in the relationship. Most of the time.

Eunhyuk is generally very calm and not the type to start a fight, but he also has a bit of a temper.

In truth, arguments with Eunhyuk are very rare because he keeps a lot to himself, but like in any couple, arguments happen.

If something is bothering you, he will give you time to confide in him.

He wants to resolve the problem, but he tries to think about it on his own before discussing it with you.

It's important for him to understand the problem on his own (poor guy, he's going to get gray hairs from it).

If he can't find the solution himself and he sees that you're taking time to confide in him despite clearly showing your annoyance about something he might have done or said, he will eventually ask you directly what bothered you (at the right moment).

Generally, during a big argument, he prefers to leave if he feels his temper rising.

He doesn't avoid conflict, but he doesn't want to regret saying something mean out of anger.

Eunhyuk knows where it hurts, and when he's annoyed, he has a hard time holding back his words.

He can be very direct and straightforward.

He will take the time to calm down and come back to you when he's no longer heated.

You communicate a lot, and he doesn't want to be someone who leaves his significant other sad or angry at him... he doesn't want to be like his father.

Eunhyuk always takes your feelings into consideration and respects you a lot.

Because communication is good, but without understanding, it's useless.

If something annoys or saddens you, he won't dismiss your feelings and will simply try to fix it.

For him, there's always a solution.

Like you pointed out that this girl was crazy about him? She's already non-existent in his eyes.

But sometimes he finds your random outbursts of anger toward him amusing.

He finds it cute and doesn't take them too seriously.

"Why are you laughing? I'm serious."

There are no real reasons to be angry with each other.

Maybe out of jealousy?

YES ! In a relationship, he has no reason not to be honest with his feelings.

If something annoys him, he will probably take his time to talk to you about it.

He has enough trust in you to know that you won't hurt his feelings.

Despite his attitude, Eunhyuk is someone who thinks a lot.

He constantly questions himself.

The truth is, he will distance himself from you to sort out his thoughts because he knows that talking about it in the heat of the moment can escalate things.

You will notice his change and decide to talk to him about it.

Again, the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

But he knows that sometimes his silence can hurt more than harsh words, so he will come back quickly.

The best thing about your arguments is your reconciliations!

You cherish your relationship.

If he acted poorly, he will be the first to come to you and timidly apologize.

Conversely, if you are at fault, he will wait for you to take the first step.

He doesn't really expect apologies; he just wants you to understand his point of view.

Depending on the severity of the argument, he might ignore you at first.

Again, he needs time; he is constantly reflecting when it comes to you.

But he will never push you away if you come to make peace.

In essence, arguments are rare, but when they happen, you know how to handle them.

Thank you for reading ! Do you have any suggestions ? :)

[writing0305]

The repeated cycle.

Pairing: Billy Butcher x F!Reader.

Summary: You have an on and off again relationship with Billy and on the off days, you both find comfort in other people's arms. After five off days, spending your time with another man, Billy shows up at your apartment,

Warning: Heavy swearing(It's Billy Butcher!!) Also, Billy Butcher. Toxic relationship.

No one really knew or understood what that something was. Sometimes you didn’t either. You and Billy fucked. A lot. And he had this strange soft spot for you with a mix of extreme protectiveness. But you two also fought. A lot.

Your relationship with Billy Butcher was a very complicated one. Ever since you joined the boys in their spiraling path for vengeance against the supes, all fueled by Billy’s own anger towards the supes, you and Billy hand something.

And whenever a big fight would hit, you two would pull away from each other. He’d bury himself in the first woman he could find and you’d find a guy to bury himself inside you. On these breaks between you and Butcher, you tended to keep one guy around instead of indulging in every guy you came across. It would last for a few days, maybe a week or two. At this time, you wouldn’t attend any meetings with the boys or go on any missions. And then Butcher would have enough and come to find you.

This was a cycle that had been repeating for a very long time. And the cycle was currently in full swing. You had been avoiding Billy and the rest of the boys after you were made to go on a mission with Kimiko as a groupie for a supe party.

It was a standard mission. You two were only meant to get some information and record a few faces and conversations that could ruin one's image. Then one of them copped a feel and you saw red. You didn’t take your anger out on the supe, but rather on Butcher for making you go into that filthy place. You knew you were a better match against Butcher than the supe.

Harsh words were exchanged between the two of you. You slapped Billy, he knocked over a table and called you a cunt. You left and five days later none of them has heard or seen you since. Frenchy and Hughie showed up at your apartment once, trying to get you to come back. But you were too stubborn and would only come back once you received an apology from Butcher.

Your five days were spent with a man named Marcus. He was tall and lean with dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. He looked too fucking much like Homelander to you. But he was a good fuck and he was nice so you looked past it.

Your days with Marcus were only spent inside your apartment. While Butcher wasn’t coming to your apartment to come get you, you were well aware he was most likely looking for you and keeping an eye out for you. You couldn’t risk leaving your apartment, especially not with Marcus on your arm.

Now you were currently sitting on your old brown leather couch, staring blankly at the TV as Marcus watched one of Homelander’s old supe movies. He loved the supes and thought they were the good guys. And with his resemblance to the leader of the seven, he idolized the man.

“So I was thinking we could go to the movies tonight?” Marcus suggested as he glanced over at you, quirking an eyebrow with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

You breathed in softly as you looked at him from the other side of the couch, your feet tugged onto the edge of the couch, knees pressed to your chest. For the past five days, you’ve been trying to avoid the topic of going out into the public with him “Oh…you want to go out?” You asked softly as you raised your eyebrows, pursing your lips.

He slowly nodded his head as he gave you a half-hearted shrug. “We’re always cooped up in your apartment,”  he muttered softly as he waved a hand over your small apartment.

You sighed softly as you nodded while getting up to your feet, busying your hands with cleaning the takeaway trash on the coffee table. “Yeah…well there’s reasons.” You muttered softly.

Marcus stared at you, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes squinted. “Why are you so scared of being seen out with me?” he questioned as his gaze followed you when you made your way into the kitchen to toss the trash.

“Why are you pushing this so much?” You questioned with a huff as you turned towards him, crossing your arms over your chest.  “We’re just fucking, not dating.” You uttered with a shake of your head as you shrugged your shoulders.

You were scared enough of Butcher finding you with Marcus, that you were prepared to be an unnecessary bitch to the man. It was for his safety at the end of the day. As a few years prior, Butcher beat one of your flings to a pulp when he grabbed your ass in front of Butcher.

“Then why the fuck am I over here all the time even when we don’t fuck?” Marcus questioned as he raised his eyebrows, pausing his movie as he got up to his feet and turned towards you, hands resting on his hips.

You sighed softly. For the past five days, you and Marcus didn’t just fuck. You hung out, ate shitty takeaways, and watched shitty movies. You chatted and relaxed together, having a few beers and getting downright drunk before passing out. By no means did you have feelings for him, but a part of you enjoyed his company in the absence of Butcher in your life.

“Look…I’m not the relationship type girl.” You muttered softly as you shrugged your shoulders again, pursing your lips as you stared at him.

He silently stared back at you for a second before slowly nodding his head. “With me.” He replied just as your phone began ringing.

You gave your phone a quick glance, swiping the red button on Butcher’s name before turning your attention back to Marcus. “What?” You questioned as your eyebrows furrowed. Your phone rang again and you rolled your eyes as you put it on silent before placing it on a nearby side table.

“You don’t want to be in a relationship with me,”  Marcus replied as he pointed at himself while taking a step closer to you.

You sighed again. “Can we not do this right now?” You asked softly with a shake of your head. Your attention was drawn towards your phone as your screen lit up with the silent call from Butcher.

Marcus followed your gaze, eyebrows furrowing as the screen changed to your background image of you, Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko, before flashing with the caller ID once again.

“Whose calling you?” he asked as his gaze turned towards you.

“Work.” You replied as your lips pulled into a tight line and you grabbed your phone and swiped the red button once again. A second later, Butcher’s caller ID popped right back up again. He truly had no end.

Marcus quirked an eyebrow at you. “You’re not going to answer your work call?” He questioned as his head tilted to the side.

You shook your head as you pursed your lips. “No, the boss is a cunt.” You muttered softly as you swiped the red button on yet another call. A mere second later, there was a loud knock at your front door. More like a bang. Your blood ran cold as your body tensed.

Marcus looked over at the door, eyebrows furrowing. “Whose that?” He asked as he turned to you, raising his eyebrows.

You sighed deeply. “Speak of the cunt and he appears like the fucking devil.” You huffed as you ran a frustrated hand through your hair, refusing to take even a step closer to the door, knowing fully well who was on the other side.

There was another bang against the door again. “Y/n, open the door before I break it down, yeah?” Butcher called out from the other side, his voice deadly calm. Too fucking calm that it sent a chill down your spine.

You took a deep breath, sending a weary glance at Marcus before slowly walking towards the door. You opened it barely an inch and popped your head out. “Butcher.” You muttered curtly as you stared at him, keeping a strong hold on your front door, knowing he was going to try and push his way inside. “What do you want?” You questioned as you quirked an eyebrow.

Butcher stared at you, his head tilting to the side. Already you could tell he was suspicious of you. You never restricted him from entering your apartment. “I’ve been callin',” he muttered in a low voice.

You hummed as you nodded your head. “Yeah, I saw.” You replied softly.

Butcher silently stared at you for a second before he quirked an eyebrow. “You gonna let me in, luv?” he questioned, his voice still low and his eyes still suspicious.

You stared back at him, your lips pulling into a tight line. “I…can’t.” You uttered as you slowly shook your head.

Butcher’s chin tilted up as he stared down at you, his gaze turning a little cold. “Let me in,” he demanded in a low voice as he pressed his hand against the door, not pushing against it, but his eyes held a warning that he would push it open if you didn’t open it for him before his patience ran out.

You inhaled sharply as you decided to stand your ground. “No.” You refused, your voice firm as you shook your head.

Butcher inhaled sharply, his head tilting to the side again. “I swear, I’ll break down the fuckin' door,” he warned as he gave you a sharp look, that held more of a promise than a threat in them.

You made the mistake of looking over your shoulder at Marcus, who was silently listening to the whole conversation between you and Butcher. The small crack you had opened the door to, didn’t allow Butcher to see into your apartment, but the small action of looking back over your shoulder, told him someone was in there with you.

”Right now is really not a good time.” You muttered with a shake of your head as your gaze returned to Butcher.

He hummed as he nodded his head before pushing your door. “I don’t care, luv,” he replied in a low voice. His strength was for more than yours and you stumbled back with the force he pushed the door open. You inhaled sharply as he stepped inside and slowly closed the door behind him, his attention immediately on Marcus. “Well, who the fuck is this?” Butcher asked as he turned his face towards you, quirking an eyebrow.

You pursed your lips as you kept your gaze on Butcher. “This is Marcus.” You replied softly.

“Marcus.” Butcher repeated with a slow nod of his head before his gaze drifted towards the blonde. He took slow strides towards Marcus and you followed behind him. “What the fuck you doing here, Marcus?” He questioned as he quirked an eyebrow.

Marcus stared at Butcher, his eyes slightly wide. He was visibly intimidated by the larger man in front of him. “Hanging out with Y/n…” he replied as his gaze darted towards you for a split second.

Butcher hummed as he nodded his head, his lips tugging into his usual side smirk. “Oh, that what you call fuckin' nowadays?” He questioned as he glanced at you over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows.

You inhaled and sighed deeply as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Why are you here, Butcher?” You questioned as your head tilted to the side.

Butcher took a few quick strides towards you. His actions were fast and sharp, enough to make anyone flinch away from him. But you knew, no matter what or how pissed off he was, he’d never hurt you. So you stood completely still, even when he lowered his face inches away from yours.

“Because you ain’t answering yer fuckin phone.” He muttered in a low voice as he glared down at you. “Too busy blowing Marcus here? Giving him a nice handy?” he questioned as he wrapped his hand into a fist and made suggestive movements with it as he nodded his head back at Marcus.

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that,” Marcus said as he took one step forward but immediately took two steps back when Butcher turned his head to face the tall blonde.

“You ain’t in this conversation,” Butcher muttered as his head slightly tilted to the side. “Cunt.” he added with a huff.

“Billy.” You snapped at the man in front of you, eyebrows deeply furrowed as a frown tugged at your lips.

Butcher’s attention turned back to you. His head tilted to the side again and he stared at you silently for a second. “You fucking him?” He asked as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

You stared up at him, jaw clenching as you nodded your head without hesitation. “Yeah, I am.” You replied, with a challenging look in your eyes.

A low growl-like sound escaped from the back of his throat as he glared down at you before completely turning around to face Marcus. “Right, get out before I break both your fucking legs, Marcus.” He demanded as he pointed his thumb toward the front door.

“You can’t kick me out.” Marcus huffed with a shake of his head as he crossed his arms over his chest and you raised your eyebrows, eyes darting towards Butcher as you pursed your lips. As if Marcus wasn’t already in danger by just being here, now he was talking back to Butcher.

Butcher’s lopsided smirk returned as he took a threatening step toward Marcus. “Now is that a challenge?” He questioned and before he could take another step toward Marcus you grabbed onto his arm. You knew if he reached Marcus, your living room would turn into a blood bath.

I sighed softly as I turned to Marcus, giving him an apologetic smile. “Marcus, I’ll call you later,” I told him and his face contoured into annoyance and frustration as he realized I picked Butcher over him.

Marcus grabbed his things and made his way over to the front door. He had to pass by Butcher and the dark-haired man reached out, patting Marcus on the chest a little harder than necessary. “Cheers mate,” he said, his smirk remaining as Marcus pushed past him and rushed to the door.  “Don’t go being a cunt out there,” Butcher called out as he pointed toward the man before the door slammed closed, leaving only the two of you.

You let go of Butcher's arm, huffing as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You questioned as you raised your eyebrows.

“That who you fuckin nowadays?” Butcher questioned as he began walking around the open space of your apartment, familiarizing himself with all the new things added to the place since he had last been here. “It’s a bloody downgrade,” he commented.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “From you?” You questioned as your gaze followed him around, watching him as he went through your things.

“Yeah.” He replied confidently as he turned to face you, his smirk returning to his face. “I’m a handsome devil, ain’t I?” he spoke, more of a statement than a question, his arms spreading out by his side.

“You’re a fucking devil yeah, I won’t argue with that.” You muttered with another roll of your eyes as you walked through the apartment and leaned against the small dining room table that stood between your living room and kitchen.

“Didn’t know ya fancied blondes.” He commented as he continued looking through your things. His gaze caught sight of the paused Homelander movie on your tv and he scoffed, turning to you with a ‘are you fucking serious?’ look on his face.

You rolled your eyes in response. “Yeah turns out they're less of cunts than dark-haired men.” You replied as your gaze turned to the hardwood floor beneath your feet.

Butcher approached you, planting his hands down on the table on either side of you, caging you in as he leaned down so that his face was inches away from yours. “Oh Y/n, you always know how to talk dirty to me.” He taunted with his one-sided smirk.

“You’re pissing me off, you should go.” You muttered softly as you stared up at him. Even when leaning down, he was still taller than you.

“Should I?” he questioned as he raised his eyebrows in a challenging manner and you hummed as you nodded your head. “You don’t want me to stay and show ya how much better I am than that twat?” he questioned as he nodded his head towards the door, where Marcus had just left through a few minutes ago.

You crossed your arms over your chest and squinted your eyes at him. “Are you better?” You asked in a sassy tone, as your head tilted to the side and his smirk grew wider.

“You never hid me away in ya apartment.” he reminded you as he reached out and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and you fought the urge to lean into his touch.

“You never gave me much of a choice, did you?”  You muttered as you quirked an eyebrow at him. You wouldn’t even be able to attempt to hide Butcher away in your apartment. Like he forced his way into your apartment, he forced himself into every aspect of your life. When you two were together, or whatever you could call it, he was like glue stuck to your side.

“Ya never protested.” He replied as he pushed himself away from the table and crossed his arms over his chest, but he didn’t move away from yoy, still standing close enough that you couldn’t escape him.

“If you’re not here to apologize, you can fuck off.” You spat at him as your jaw clenched and your gaze turned cold.

“Apologize?” He repeated as his eyebrows furrowed and head tilted to the side. “For fuckin what?” he questioned with a huff.

“Sending me and Kamiko into the fucking supe orgy.” You snapped as you shoved his chest while huffing in anger and frustration. But Butcher didn’t budge. He remained rooted in his spot as he stared down at you.

He sighed softly and pursed his lips. “Y/n, I wouldn’t have sent ya in there if I didn’t think ya could handle yourself.” He muttered softly.

“That’s not an apology .” You muttered as you pushed yourself off the table, standing toe to toe with Butcher. The look in your eyes was enough to let him know you wouldn’t accept anything but an apology.

“Fine.” he sighed as he rolled his eyes. “I’m fuckin sorry, yeah?” He apologized. It was a shitty-mannered apology. But it was Billy, and he rarely fucking apologized for anything, so it was still something. “I’m sorry luv,” he muttered softly as he reached out can cupped your cheek.

You sighed as you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. “I hate you so much, Billy.” You whispered and he hummed softly as he nodded his head. He understood and he knew why, and he hated the fact, he hated himself for making you feel this way. But he couldn’t change his ways, no matter how hard he tried. But he couldn’t let you go either, he couldn’t accept the thought of losing you.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. Like always, like every time the cycle repeated, you accepted his kiss. Because you were no better than Butcher. You’d accept all his bullshit as long as you had him. Because you couldn’t accept the thought of losing him either.

[katsus-world]

Comfort.

Genre: angst (kinda) and fluff

Warnings: cussing and lots of crying 😭 also bakugou may be slightly out of character (?) I’m not sure

“You know I love you right?” Those words shook your heart as you looked at katsuki with glossy eyes. The feeling of your stomach dropping, his hand caressing your cheek. The calloused digits buring your already tear-stained face as he removes his hand.

All day you’ve been avoiding katsuki, all day you haven’t said a word to him. Or anyone else for that matter.

He was worried to say the least. You didn’t even answer his Goodmorning text or walk up to him during breakfast. His own head rushing through millions of thoughts as to why you haven’t uttered a peep to him, or any of your friends.

You sigh, nodding as that’s really the only thing you can do at the moment, not wanting to say anything because if you do, sobs will escape.

Katsuki’s frown deepens at you not responding. He knows that he didn’t do anything wrong at this point. Seeing you walk to your bed, looking at him expectingly. The blankets pushed to the side, welcoming him in onto the mattress.

Walking over, the ash blonde lays down. His arms caging you in as you bury your head into his chest.

The overwhelming feeling of everything that’s been stressing you out came crashing the second his muscular arms wrapped around your figure.

Sobs filled Katsuki’s ears as you let everything out. Shaking as fat hot tears rolled down your cheek once again.

Your fits balling up the backside of his shirt as you weep. His hands rubbing circles on your back, knowing that you’ve been having this pent up.

Katsuki knows you all too well, one of the things he’s found most comforting about you is that you both are very similar on how you handle your emotions.

Always keeping things bottled in, always staying quiet when something is bothering you. Only speaking up when necessary, there are days where you just don’t feel like conversing with people and that’s totally fine with the both of you.

He understands how you feel, reminding him of when he blew up on deku, after All Might retiring.

He didn’t like the fact that you were in pain right now though. And he knew that he couldn’t do anything but be there for you, letting you bawl all over his shirt, and pull him closer as your sobs grew louder.

“It’s ok baby, I got you.” The blonde looked down to you. Feeling his heart ache as he saw your eyes. Red with exhaustion and worry. The sounds of your wails are something he never wants to hear, burning his ears as his chest tightens.

“M’ so sorry Kat!” You let out through sobs. You didn’t mean to ignore him all day. Or anyone for that matter. But everything has been so overwhelming, the feeling of not being able to breath followed you everywhere today.

Being engulfed in a dark empty and cold mindset as you couldn’t pay attention in class. Having to excuse yourself and sprint down the hall to the restroom, shutting the stall and taking deep breaths like if you were about to be submerged into the deep ocean.

All of this being ticked off from the agency you were supposed to be training with. The pro hero giving you harsh comments and criticism on something that wasn’t your fault. His words crushing your self esteem as he said you were never going to make it onto the pro hero’s charts.

“That’s your stance? Are you trying get killed on your first day?”

“The hell was that fighting?! You can’t do that and expect everything to be fine!” All you could do was be quiet and nod. Frustration and anger bubbling up inside you as you look at the “mess” you apparently made.

There was a rock on a fire extinguisher. One that you didn’t even throw, it was his side kick.

On your last day there, the pro hero came up to your desk. Knocking rudely on the wood to get your attention.

“You know when I saw you at the sports festival, I thought you were so much better than this.. turns out you’re just another pretty face. You’ll never make it out in the real world l/n. I expected better from you. Goodbye and don’t let the door hit you out!” Walking away, his hand was in the air signaling you to get the hell out already.

All you could do was stand up and grab your things, quickly leaving the stupid building as you bit down on your lip. Trying to stop the tears that were spilling out.

That was two days ago. When you came back to the dorms, you made your way straight to your room. Not bothering to stay down with everyone else to share about the agency. Or to talk to your teacher, Mr. Aizawa about the pro hero and his unprofessionalism.

Instead you locked yourself in, finally letting your feelings out, dropping onto your bed until you passed out.

At least now you were with your boyfriend, in his arms as he comforted you, in his own way.

“About what? What’s wrong y/n?” His voice was laced with concern, pulling you out of his soaked shirt, he looked at you with heavy eyes.

Trying to calm down you sit up, chest heaving up and down as you tried catching your breath. Katsuki’s hands cupping yours, feeling his palms sweatier than usual.

“Stupid pro hero!” His words wrung through your head.

“Don’t push yourself if you ain’t ready. I can wait” a sense of relief fell on katsuki as now he knew for a fact it wasn’t his fault for you feeling like this.

“He said I wasn’t good enough to be a hero.” Your voice was quiet as you but your lips. The metallic taste making you tastebuds quiver with disgust.

“He said what?! You’re crying over that?” Widened scarlet eyes look at your still shaken up state. Worry quickly being replaced with anger.

“Who the fuck does he think he is?! He’s a nobody y/n don’t listen to that extra ass pro hero! You’re more than capable of being a hero, don’t let that nobody get to you..” Katsuki’s words were harsh but you know he didn’t mean it like that.

“Go to sleep. I know you must be tired from today, but tomorrow I’m taking you to go talk to Aizawa. That dumbass needs to watch what he says.” A low growl rumbled from the blondes chest.

You laid back down on your bed, looking at your boyfriend to join you. Taking off his shirt as it had your tears all over it, thinking about how wet it probably was right now.

You rest your head on his bare chest as he pulls youu on top of him. His arms finding home on the sides of your hips. Knowing that you’ll be snoring in no time, he gives you a peck on the forehead.

“I love you dumbass, don’t take that dumb shit to heart.” Sighing, you nod.

“I love you too katsuki, thank you for being here right now.” He lets out a grunt in response and not long after, soft snores fill his ears. His eyes drifting off, your body still in his arms as his lids close.

༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶ ༶ඬ༝ඬ༶

I gave up at the end but this was a little self indulged. I was sad LMAO 😭 not proof read so sorry for any misspellings 😞🙏

[cyxnidx]

Hi, I’ve liked your works for a while and was wondering if you would write something with Scaramouche and a reader who’s insecure because of her small chest? You can add any other characters if you want. If you’re busy, feel free to ignore, I don’t wanna disturb you.

PERFECTION !!

characters: scaramouche , zhongli

warnings: small chested!reader, fem!bodied, reader is called ‘darling’ & ‘love’ (zhongli)

a/n: ofc!! i dont mind. i had also added zhongli, considering i have a headcanon that they also love those with small chests<3

!! SCARAMOUCHE

is surprised when you bring it up. not in a bad way, but one thing he didn’t expect was an insecurity. let alone, from you. especially with the way you always acted so full of yourself..he felt somewhat deceived by how easily you fooled him, though didn’t think now was the time to try and scold you or act any kind of way. scaramouche being the person he is, and struggling with explaining his emotions, he simply starts poking at them, playfully, but it concerned you, yet it still made you laugh. and that was his goal. to make you laugh. it was his backup plan for everything that went wrong with you. making you laugh, it fulfilled him perfectly and honestly made him a bit more confident now that the mood has been lightened by your cheerful voice. “i dont care..” he sighed, finally being able to look you in the eye without getting the least bit flustered. though, he was slightly struggling to find the right words to finish off his sentence. he’d hate for you to assume that was all he was going to say, but he also wanted to find the right words as to not make it too harsh, or have something sound different than what it is. “..for size.” you couldn’t help but feel a tightening sensation in your throat, preventing you from speaking. in slight retaliation, noticing your emotional distress, scaramouche wrapped his arms around you and sighed. “you’re so..sensitive..about it. if i had that large of a preference you wouldn’t even know i existed.”

!! ZHONGLI

could already tell that you were somewhat insecure of them, yet deemed it insensitive to say anything. but now that you’re complaining about them, he takes it as an opportunity to say his piece. “y’know darling. it is not something to worry about.” he said softly, cupping your cheeks. “why not?” you replied quickly, avoiding eye contact. “well, from what ive been told, those with bigger sizes often get back pains..i’d hate for you to have consistent pains due to something you can’t control.” he explained. you knew you were some kind of lucky because no back pains, but you did wish they were at least a little bigger. though, your avoidance of eye contact only made zhongli want to care for you more. “why’re you so worried about your breasts anyways, my love? it’s not that you can control it.” he asked, now curious. what started such an odd insecurity? why would you wish something upon yourself that you could not control? why wish you had it, yet not bother to think for the pain? he didn’t understand. had you forgotten cause and effect? give and take? all things are given with a price. it made perfect sense to him, but he couldn’t understand it coming from you. understandably, he could never. he’s not in your place. however, why be insecure about them when he’s always showed so much love for it? “it’s just. frowned upon in communities. most men have preferences of that kind..” you said, trailing off out of embarrassment. “well, it’s not frowned upon here. and im certainly not ‘most men’, now am i?” planting a kiss on your forehead, he smiled softly at you as you nodded. “i love you the way you are. please do not hope to change yourself in any way. i developed great feelings for you, not any other. if you aren’t you, i wouldn’t have the same attachment.”

[junkbbykow]

ɪꜱ ꜰᴀᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ - ℘ąƈ

Is fame your genuine desire? 1, 2, 3, 4

Pile 1 - Silver Platters

Why U Desire This Life

Your truly passionate about it. I don’t think there’s any doubt about if you are determined to reach this goal. The universe here’s your cries for this. Cry Your Heart Out by Adele just started playing. I think part of this dream of fame is a desire to feel like you. I think some part of you feels as if you NEED the recognition (giving 10h stellium lol). But also nit having this makes you feel down. Your desire for fame is wrapped up in your worth and desirability. I think you want to go outside and feel seen and heard. Imo this isn’t healthy. Ofc you have to decipher this for yourself! Fame is definitely something you can achieve and I think doors are opening in whatever industry you want fame in but it’s on you to take it. Is this what you really want? For some of you, this time period is a test. Do you want this.

Spirit Advice

I think you are constantly given signs by the universe to the many ways you can live this life that you desire without being a public figure. fyi - people who build generational wealth typically aren’t famous or not pop star famous. I think spirit truly respects and admires your determination in this pursuit but they genuinely are unsure of it you want it. I think they want you to walk through the kinks of your desires for fame. I think you came from something harsh. You haven’t lived. And you see fame as your ticket out. No more strife, you’ll have cushion. But I think that’s partly an illusion. Zendaya doesn’t even think she has that kind of security. I’m not saying this level of fame is impossible. Everything is possible. You may be underestimating what fame is. What you have to entail, how lonely it can be, the constant grind and hustle. Your trading in one hardship for another if your not careful. If your desire is to work less and party hard you need to make your celeb lifestyle be in alignment with that. Actors, influencers, and pop stars are constantly working and they typically don’t go into retirement and some work til they die. I think SOME of you in this pile are too idealistic about fame and some of you simply need to confirm to yourself that your ready. If your that second group you probably felt called to another pile. Also don’t let this get you down. This pile is incredibly confident and success that you desire is coming to you just make a decision, truthfully. Be honest with yourself.

Shadow Work

How many of your desires for your life have to do with fame?

Does your desire for success, stability, and luxury have anything to do with being in the public eye? How so, and what do you desire from being in the spotlight?

Explain fame and explain luxury/stability. Then, explain why both are for your highest good.

Why do you want public acknowledgment?

What do you gain from having your career, life, and/or other personality attributes broadcasted?

Imagine/brainstorm your desired lifestyle including your celebrity status. How do you want to become famous. What field do see yourself going in. Could you pick 1 to 3 celebrities you would want to a similar status to and social presence (explain how nd why you chose these figures) Literally walk through every detail of your desired life as a celebrity and acknowledge less than savory attributes. Will you need to avoid paparazzi, how do you keep certain things private, do you mind dating in the public eye, does this effect the people around you?

old money, easy life, pampered

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Pile 2 - Influencers

My phone died writing this 😅. I think y’all are facing a great deal of obstacles.

Why U Desire This Life

Pile 2, I think you see no difference from you between other influencers so you don’t understand why you shouldn’t at least go for it. Which is fine and dandy but don’t uproot all your hopes and dreams just to be like everyone else. Do what you desire. I also feel like this pile believes they’ll gain community this way. You want to have friends, companions, attend parties and whatnot. Fame can be incredibly lonely at times or too prying. Community can come in many shapes and sizes why does fame have to be apart of the picture. I see you comparing lifestyles to others and some of you even acknowledge how plastic being an influencer can be, but you want the lifestyle. Almost as if you want to be the popular girl/guy and get nice dates, gifts, and show of all your abundance. How much of this is for you and where are your true desires for fame. Fyi I don’t see this message as a no to fame, but maybe find a healthy and true reason for fame. Honesty will bring this manifestation to you. I also see you want to the good life and see being an influencer as an accessible way out. I genuinely think a lot of you are not dreaming bug enough or limiting yourself to what’s already been done. You are not them, your better.

Spirit Advice

Lmao hi pile 2, Y’all desire fame because of how you see others on social media and a great deal of you want to be influencers. To start their are a lot of obstacles in your way. Every time you thinks something is viral your views are down or your not seeing results where you think you should. Y’all are confronting something that the universe is blatantly trying to tell you. You may not even know what I’m talking about right now that’s how oblivious these signs have been to you. Y’all need to switch it up. Try something new. Your competing in other peoples lanes. People become influential by making their own lane and having authenticity (in most cases). Some of you may be attracted to pile 1. I suggest you read that as well. In this pile, I see a lot of you wanting to gain fame for your personality, but then refuse to post the real parts of you online. Being an influencer honestly takes vulnerability or at least a great deal of calculation. And I don’t think the calculative methods are suiting you pile 1. Enjoy yourself online. If you want to be an influencer make your platforms your new bestie. Tell them everything (within you boundaries) just be honest. Share ups, downs, unexpected, mundane, all of it!!!! Pile 2, you are in a lack mindset. Maybe even broke mindset. You are functioning outside of alignment with wealth and abundance.

Shadow Work

When you stop comparing yourself to others do you still want fame?

Do you actually desire the ‘fast life’? Are you willing to work in a hustle mindset and share personal aspects of your life?

What kind of influencer/celebrity do you want to be? Why does this bring you satisfaction?

Instead of trying to market yourself, just be yourself. Marketing comes after gaining traction.

Think about your finances. How will you save and plan for the future? Do you simply want money to keep up with trends.

california, broke, companionship, sustainability, save me

I hope you enjoyed your reading! I appreciate all likes, reblogs, and feedback! Please visit my masterlist for more PACS, Ask Games, Paid Readings and more!

Pile 3 - Philanthropist

This pile was interrupted by a shadow energy. Please look within yourself but also protect your dreams from outside influences

Why U Desire This Life

You have had a good life or at least in your eyes. You have a home and your basic needs. You might even been born into an upper-middle class family. This pile is full of caring people who want to share the wealth of knowledge and resources have brought them. This could be being privileged financially, being able to attend college, or being of some ‘higher’ status. You genuinely see every creature on this earth as deserving of equity and love. You are ready to fight for this dream to. You get disheartened by greed and misuse of power. You see how people respect and listen to influencers. You want status to actually sway the masses for change. Pile 3, we need y’all/srs! Pro tip: being generous is lovely and wanting to give is admirable but just hold back for a while and nurture your abundance, ideas, and so on. Make sure their fully grown before you jump in to help people. We need your project(s) to last. I really encourage this pile to research your many interests. The more knowledge you have the more credible and empathetic you can be. Acknowledge the underdogs :) This pile is specifically for those looking to start a nonprofit or some kind of activism (even outside of traditional senses).

Spirit Advice

Spirit isn’t being very vocal with you pile 3. They fully back up your plan. They want you take take the right steps and plan. You should dedicate yourself to this project. Bring it to life. Maybe start with small initiatives or just put all your ideas on paper. List everything you’d want to do with your platform and build it from the ground up in your mind. Pretend spirit and the universe are tour contractors. Tell them how you want it and they’ll get to work. They’re extremely proud of you like immensely. It’s an overwhelming feeling of love and belief in you. You got thisssssssss <3

Shadow Work

How are you planning to make this a reality?

How can you ensure your plan/project will be able to expand?

What knowledge could you acquire to help push forward this idea?

Are your current actions in alignment with your goal?

financial planning, mutual aid, nonprofit, research

I hope you enjoyed your reading! I appreciate all likes, reblogs, and feedback! Please visit my masterlist for more PACS, Ask Games, Paid Readings and more!

Pile 4 - Disrupters

Why U Desire This Life

Pile 4, fame to you is ultimate fulfillment. In your eyes at least. I also feel like a majority of you feel that intuitively fame is in your cards this lifetime. I see y’all as so confident in this in fact you aren’t even rushing or wondering where it is because you have no need to desire it. It’s yours. You want to share your gifts or perspective. This pile is very creative, alternative, and eccentric. A lot of you want to change how celebrities are seen. Similar to Pile 3, y’all want to spark change but through your personality. Dennis Rodman is the perfect person for this pile because this super masculine man was a AN ICON for his femininity and alternative style especially for a straight, Black, basketball player of the 90s. He did some much for gender expression like 🥹 I love me some him but anywaysssss you have something unique and you know that the world should get to see it. Y’all will see fame when you align and express your genuine self.

Spirit Advice

Nurture yourself. Take care of your dream and don’t share it. Don’t mix the energy of those with limited mindsets to your dream. Your energy to this goal is so pure and should be left untainted. Learn about yourself and who you are. Also practice, practice, practice if you want fame from a skill or art. You have what it takes just devote yourself to this goal. You will probably experience a (or many) rebirths before you see the limelight. I think spirit is being quiet because you should find your way on your own since your fame is so closely connected to being one with yourself.

Shadow Work

Do you wear a ‘mask’ for other people or the public eye?

What aspects of your authentic self do you not see as deserving of being seen publicly? Why? Do you believe this because of your own perspective or the input of others?

How can you be more authentic with yourself and others?

How can you be more authentic in your craft?

What aspects of yourself do you expect to be rejected? Why?

craftsman, quirky, resolve, integrity, outcast

I hope you enjoyed your reading! I appreciate all likes, reblogs, and feedback! Please visit my masterlist for more PACS, Ask Games, Paid Readings and more!

Hope you enjoyed,

JUNKBBY KOW

[lostinwoso]

can you make a story where Alexia shows the reader what it's like to be touched?

What It's Like Being Touched (Alexia x Reader)

Physical touch is something you are not used to, already in your childhood physical attention wasn't really a part of your upbringing, maybe a hug from a friend here and there but that's all there really was.

So now as an adult every time when someone touches you in any way it causes you to freeze up, not knowing how to handle the affection of someone.

You knew that Spanish girls are rather affectionate but with Barcelona being your dream club you decided to make the move, when arriving there and being introduced to the team, Alexia could tell that all the hugs the girls gave you as a greeting, made you uncomfortable and filled you with slight panic from your behavior.

After being with the team for a while already, it seems like that all your teammates got the message that you don't really enjoy getting touched, after avoiding some hugs, so they decided to back down and instead offer high-fives after a game, something you are really grateful for.

Over the time you also formed a close friendship with Alexia, the older woman helping you settle into the team and the city, plus the connection on the field between you two is causing some serious trouble for the opponents.

The first time Alexia touched you was while forming a team circle before a match, her hand casually resting on your back, making you freeze up while she spoke some encouraging words to the team.

But all her words went unnoticed by you, too focused on the hand that was on your back and the feeling it sends through you. It doesn't felt as weird as when someone else touched you, it felt warm, welcoming and comforting. You were confused by the new feelings a simple touch blossomed inside of you, what made her touch so special?

As soon as her touch was gone, you found yourself missing the contact immediately.

Alexia apologized afterwards, not really noticing that she put her hand on you, "I'm sorry, I was so focused I didn't realize that I put my hand there.", your response is quick, "It's okay! It wasn't bad?", you slightly beat yourself up in your head for your choice of words, but Alexia sends you a soft smile in return, as if she knows what you are trying to say, "Let's go out now, we have game to win.".

There were a few little more moments where you came in contact with Alexia, but those were always just small touches, like brushing a piece of hair out of your face or brushing some grass off you after a rather harsh tackle. But every single one of those small moments made you feel a warmth you are not used too.

___

The second time she touched you was when you were sitting in the locker room, the sold out El Clásico against Real Madrid just a few moments away, with you in the starting eleven.

To say you were nervous would have been an understatement, you were lost inside your head staring straight ahead with your leg bouncing nonstop.

A hand landing on your bouncing leg pulled you out of your thoughts, making you look down at your leg before lifting your head to look at the person. You knew who it was before seeing Alexia, just from the little touches shared from before you could already recognize her touch and the safety you felt with it.

When you locked eyes with the midfielder it's like a switch turned in her head and she immediately pulled away her hand, "I'm sorry, I thought I could help you calm down, I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.", she rushed out.

You kept your eyes on her, feeling the nervousness crawling back to you, "It's okay, it actually helped.", you admitted, slightly embarrassed. Alexia slowly moved her hand back towards your leg, giving you a chance to stop the movement but after no complaints from you, she placed it back on there, "You do know you have nothing to be nervous about right? You are going to play amazing.".

Clearing your throat, you looked away from her, "Thank you.", you mutter quietly, a light blush covering your face as you eye her hand on your now resting leg.

From this moment on it became a regular scene to be seen, whenever you got nervous Alexia would help you to calm down, her soft hand resting on you, trying to distract you with the most random things she could come up with.

___

What you didn't know is that Alexia loved the little physical touches, she would lie if she didn't feel attracted towards you, but she wouldn't do anything you weren't comfortable with, wanting you to take the speed of how things could go between you.

So she was rather surprised when you ran over to her to give her a hug after she scored thanks to your assist that came in perfectly for her to head the ball into the net.

Everyone was quite surprised by that gesture and even though you were the one who initiated it, you were probably the most confused by your action. But the happiness you felt from the important goal and the affection you craved from the older woman had you running into her arms without another thought.

Pulling away from the hug, you praise, "Amazing goal!", "But an even better assist!", she replies immediately with a huge smile on her face.

Running back to your respective positions, you high-five all your teammates on the way.

After the game was done, and you made your round around the stadium, you find yourself in the locker room, approaching Alexia, "I hope it was okay that I hugged you, I know we don't usually do that.", you hesitated.

"It's okay, I'm happy you feel comfortable enough to hug me, actually.", she says in a soft tone when she notices your nervous approach.

"I do feel comfortable around you and with your touch.", you admit with a light blush on your face.

Alexia can't stop the smile taking over her face at your confession, not just happy that you feel comfortable around her but also comfortable enough to admit it to her, "I feel comfortable around you too.".

After the confession, hugs now started to become a regular between you too as well, followed by more random but comforting physical interactions between you. You were getting used to it more and more, to a point where you started missing the affection when not being able to receive it for a while.

___

The team enjoys watching you getting more and more comfortable thanks to their captain, it's like as if a complete different person blossomed within you, you started being more open, talk active and even sometimes joined in on some of their mischief actions, that some of the girls always seemed to start.

But what they didn't expect that the comfortableness you shared with their captain could also spread over to them.

After an important match, the team walked towards you, ready to share your high-fives when you suddenly open up your arms to your first teammate that approaches you, Patri being the one.

She was confused for a moment until she realized that you are indeed holding your arms out for a hug, gladly accepting it. When your other teammates saw that, they immediately went over until a lined formed in front of you, everyone waiting for a post-match hug from you.

"I hope you know after this hug that you know have to give us one after every game right?", Mapi whispers in your during your hug before parting, "I know.", you answer her with a smile before she walks away.

Looking ahead you see your captain approaching you, opening your arms for a hug once she is close enough, "I'm so proud of you.", she murmurs in your ear, pulling a bit away, so you could look at her, you question, "For what?".

"Feeling comfortable enough to hug all the girls.", she says, still holding you close, "Well, thank you for showing me that it can be comfortable.", you answer, sending her a smile before pulling her into a tight hug again.

[taintedcigs]

possessive [ex dilf!steve rogers x reader]

summary: ex dilf!steve is not happy when he finds out his ex wife has a date.

pairing: steve rogers x female reader

warnings: SMUT SMUT. MINORS DNI !!!!! NO MINORS!!! unprotected sex, degradation and praise kink at the same time, possessiveness, steve is VV possessive and kinda toxic?? slight choking, slight breeding kink, rough sex, kind of a size kink not rlly.

word count: 3.2k+

a/n: THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD. APOLOGIES FOR MISTAKES I AM LAZY!!! also when i say reader is small i mean she is shorter/smaller than steve, i am not saying she has a certain body type !!!!!

Steve rubbed his face angrily as he huffed. “You didn’t tell me about this.” The look he gave you was sharp and daggering.

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Steve.” You murmured brushing past him in the kitchen as you started setting off the plates from the dishwasher.

Steve gave you a chuckle, one that didn’t sound like he found any of this amusing but rather a pissed off one, you knew it all too well.

“You don’t have to tell me everything, huh?” He mocked quoting you.

“You have to tell me if you decide to drop off my kids at their grandma’s.” He spat, turning around to face you.

“Our kids.” You corrected, holding his gaze.

“And what exactly was your fucking reasoning for this?” He questioned as he saw you all dolled up, wearing a tight dress.

You huffed in defeat, ignoring him as you spun around to continue setting the plates in the cupboard.

Steve didn’t take your ignoring lightly as he not-very softly but effectively took you by the arm, almost colliding his body with yours.

You gasped at the harsh action, “What the fuck are you-”

“I asked you a simple question.” He firmly affirmed, his ocean blues drawn into your orbs in a magnetic way that seemed to spark the ever so familiar feeling between the two of you.

You had been divorced for over a year now, but things never seemed to be calm between the two of you, and the two of you were avoiding each other constantly, because both of you were afraid.

As there were so many emotions, feelings that never seemed to go away.

And you had been missing his touch, the way his hands would explore all of your body, right before he destroyed you with his cock, disappearing in and out of you as he groaned watching you completely whimper underneath him, you missed his dirty talk, praises, and the degradation.

You missed his eyes as they gazed into yours that made you feel like he knew you too well, like he could see you for everything that you were. You missed the way he smiled at you when you played with his hair the first thing when you woke up.

And Steve was sharing this feeling too, he had spent too many lonely nights, too many nights where he could particularly feel the cold oozing through your side of the bed, he had spent too many nights where he felt his cock wanting to spring out of his boxers, cursing as he slowly stroked it, wishing your pretty soft hands were in its place.

Images of your mouth wrapped around his angry tip, licking off his pre-cum as his mouth left praises, the way he ruined you completely, and then put you all back together in a matter of seconds, the striking images were more than enough to bring him on the edge in a matter of minutes, spilling all over himself as he groaned out your name, missing the way your tongue licked all of it off of him.

He missed your sweet laugh, the one you gave him specifically after he told you a joke – a really bad one at that.

So when the next few words slipped past your lips, he wasn’t sure which emotion to feel first.

“I have a date.” You murmured, eyes locked into the ground.

Jealousy, anger, fear. Steve was feeling all three of them at once.

But jealousy and the anger that came with it were overpowering him, without thinking he spun you around, pinning you against the nearest wall, but still doing it in the most gentle way he could think possible to avoid hurting your frame with his super soldier powers.

“You have a what?” Steve spat, his eyes were burning red, the way his hands stood on your side was possessive, the stare he gave you was so intense that you were sure you had never seen him this jealous and possessive.

You opened your mouth to answer, but Steve interrupted quickly. “With who?” His jaw was clenched, not ready to hear the answer.

“Jack.” You murmured, finding it difficult to hold his gaze as you felt small under his 6”5 frame.  

Steve shut his eyes in pure anger and agony, taking a breath in as he scoffed, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Fucking Jack!” He scowled. Steve hated him the second he had met him, the two of you had met Jack when you first moved into the neighborhood and he was convinced that Jack was doing everything he can to get in your pants because Jack would only flirt with you and try to make a move when Steve wasn’t around, and now he knew he was right about it.

“Steve, it’s not a big deal, I swea-”

“It’s a big deal, peach.” He interrupted, his grip on you tightening, and even if it wasn’t the timing for it, you could feel your heat growing wetter with his words and harshness.

You had missed Steve more than you let him know, his tiniest touch had you grow weak in the knees.

You almost whimpered when he inched close towards you, and you could feel his breath fanning against your face, all hot and bothered.

Steve noticed this immediately, he knew you to well not to do so, and a devilish smirk formed on his lips.

His hand gently caressed your cheek, the way he always did when he went to give you a soft peck, and your eyes closed shut at the action, feeling bliss in his touch.

“Tell me, doll.” Steve’s voice was much calmer and teasing now, his hands were cold as they landed on your thigh, riding up your dress as you sucked in a breath.

His touch was so soft and demanding that as soon as he circled around your panties you let out a whimper, Steve’s pants tightening at the sound.

“Can little Jack, make you fall apart like this?” He whispered against your ear, leaving sloppy kisses on your neck, as his finger slipped past your panties, sliding them down your thighs.

He let out a feral groan as he felt your wetness, dampening your thighs almost, he started playing around your clit, causing you to suck in your breath.

“S’fucking soaked for me, sweets.” He purred against your ear, his hands gliding in and out of you easily as your whimpers were blissful to his ears.

“Stevie…” The words slipped past your lips in a state pure of euphoria. He focused his one finger on your spot, causing you to almost scream out, as he pushed his other thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

“Tell me, angel. Can he touch you like this?” He scowled this time, his movements were quick and harsh.

“No, he can’t!”

 “Only you... Stevie…” You were barely able to form coherent sentences. But your words alone weren’t enough for Steve.

His free hand quickly grabbed your phone on the counter as he handed it to you, you eyed him confused.

“Then call him and tell him angel. Tell him the date is off because your sweet little cunt is going to milk my cock, the rest of this night. Tell him that I own you, and I own this tight little cunt of yours, and tell him that I’m going to ruin you.” He looked pretty serious as his eyes darkened.

“Tell him to never fucking call you, because the next time he calls I will answer.” He threatened, as his fingers stretched you, making you gasp, you without question nodded.

You were mesmerized by him and ready to comply any of his requests, you had been waiting for his touch, to feel him, to feel his cock ruining you completely.

Steve dialed Jack and handed you the phone, he unbuckled his belt and slid off his pants quickly, taking off his boxers to free his painful bulge, hissing as his angry red tip, leaking with pre-cum faced towards you.

You licked your lips at the sight, spitting in your free hand as you were waiting for Jack to pick up and taking him in your hand hungrily, giving his cock a few strokes.

Steve hissed in frustration, “No teasing.” He scowled, patting away your hand.

Jack picked up the phone, “Hello?” He answered, Steve hungrily attacked your neck, ripping apart your dress with one movement, as his eyes devoured your bare breasts flashing him, he groaned at the sight.

One of his hands played with your nipple as he latched on one of your nipples, hungrily, sucking, pulling and everything filthy he could possibly think of.

“Hey... umm...” You muttered as you could barely form words. “I need- I need to cancel our date.” You stuttered as you felt Steve pinch your nipple.

“Why is that, sweetheart?” Jack answered through the phone, and Steve was sure he was seeing red as his head popped up, grabbing you harshly as held your legs.

“Up.” He demanded as you jumped and he wrapped your legs around his torso. “Uhh, is everything okay, sweetheart?” Jack said again as Steve growled once again.

Steve lined his tip with your entrance, groaning at the sight of your glistening cunt, waiting to be ruined by him.

Without warning, he pinned you further against the wall and pushed himself inside of you, your cunt milking him instantly as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Your cunt gripped him nicely, making him feel nuzzled by your warmthness, he was sure he was seeing heaven, and he never wanted to let this feeling go.

He growled against your ear and choked you out with his free hand, muffling your moans as he watched the way your tits rise up and down, making him sink lower into you.

“Tell him.” Steve groaned. “I-I’m with Steve.” You whimpered. “What the fuck?” He answered back to you. But you were too fucked out to even reply.

Steve was in pure bliss as he rocked his hips rougly and deeper into you, splitting you open until he was sure you were stuffed with his cock.

“I’m with Steve…”  You repeated again, now fully displaying your groans. “I’m his and his only.” You added, looking up at Steve innocently, and he gave you a smile.

“Good girl.” Steve purred, satisfied. Ripping the phone away from your hands, placing it on the counter, but not ending the call.

“D’you know how badly I missed this, angel?” He asks, his thick thighs pushing your legs wider, “I missed the way this cunt was milking my cock.”

“Missed the way that tight lil’ cunt was squeezin’ my cock.” He growled, harshly gripping into you, your hands tugged on his hair guiding him to go faster.

“Date with Jack, huh angel?” He asked, as the fullness made you whimper once again. You shook your head.

“No, it was a bad idea, Stevie…” You murmured between your breaths, and Steve chuckled.

“It sure was, sweets. You think that dumb boy would be able to fuck you like this?” He questioned, holding you closer and splitting into you further.

You shook your head quickly, grunting at the movement, “S’stuffed with my cock that you can’t even speak doll?” He asked, and you nodded quickly, eyes still shut from the pleasure.

“Look at you sweets, s’fucked out that you can’t even form words, lookin’ so pretty being ruined completely by my cock.” He purred, his hips pushing against you.

“Needed this so badly, needed to stuff this tight lil’cunt to the brim, show you who owns it.” He groaned loudly, slipping himself out to pounds himself inside your walls in a glorious thrust once again, making you scream out.

“It’s yours, Stevie. I’m yours…” You murmured, still barely adjusting to his size after all these years.

He presses his forehead against yours, slamming his lips and suffocating you in a dizzying kiss, “Missed those sweet lips.” He murmurs.

Steve hungrily continues his pace, rocking his hips further and faster, earning groans and please’s from you, and he groans every time you beg him.

“Stevie, gonna- gonna cum!” You add, sobbing into his shoulder as your nails claw into his back, “Fuck- fuck.” You curse out.

“Such a dumb little baby… my little cock slut…” He purred. “Cum for me, sweets.”  He didn’t stop as he roughly pounded his cock inside of you, your sweet cunt taking all of him as you released through him, gush of wetness pulsing out of you.

Strained moans escaped your lips as the sound of his skin slapping against yours was faintly heard in the background.

You screamed out his name as you shattered in his arms fully, your release caused your pussy to be tighter as it squeezed Steve’s cock better than ever.

Your cries of pleasure sending him right over the edge. “Fuck- fuck!” He cussed out.

“Squeezin’ my cock so fuckin’ well, peach. This pussy was made for me.” He lets out between strained groans.

“Fuckin’ made for me. You’re mine and mine only.” He grunts as he pounds his thick cock deeper than before.

“Gonna fill you so deep with my cum, sweets.” He purred.

“Want that, doll? Want to be full with my cum, have it leakin’ out your pretty legs?” He asked as you nodded.

“Yes, yes Stevie! Want your cum…” You answered tired out and with that Steve came with a groan, releasing his warm seeds within your waiting cunt.

He let out a last groan as he slowly came down from his high, he pulled out of you and he admired slowly as you felt his warm cum leaking out, dripping down your thighs.

Steve gave you a slight smirk, helping you adjust and balance as you felt too fucked out to move, he gave you a slight forehead peck, the one he always did as a comfort right after you had completely fallen apart underneath him.

Steve held you in place and then looked at the phone in the counter, smirking he picked it up, “Still here, huh?” He mocked, the line was silent.

“Did you hear her, punk? Hear how she screamed out my name when she came all over my cock, how I own this sweet tight cunt of hers, hmm?” Steve asked and it seemed like Jack wasn’t going to answer and Steve decided he had enough of his fun.

“Don’t call or contact her ever again, or else I will be the one you’ll have to deal with.” He threatened in a rough manner, and he smirked as the line went dead. 

“So fuckin’ pathetic.” He scoffed.

“You’re an idiot, Stevie…” You murmured tiredly, giggling at your ex-husband’s possessiveness, and Steve’s eyes glimmered as you did so, missing your heavenly giggles.

“C’mere.” He nudged as he scooped you up, carrying you to your bed. He put you down gently and he went through your closet to give you something to put on, a smile appeared on his face as he found a few of the shirts that you loved to wear of his.

He took one of the oversized shirts, and helped you wear it then he slowly put the blanket over you, giving you small kisses as you hummed.

The jealousy and anger part of his emotions were starting to wear off, and the fear was starting to set in. The fear of losing you, forever.

Steve was regretting the divorce and had never in a million years thought of you moving on, and now it was straining him, the thought of you going out with someone else.

The thought of you moving on.

He wanted you to be happy, he really did. But he always thought the two of you would be together, no matter what.

“I don’t like him, y’know.” Your words helped him get out of the agony in his mind, he eyed you carefully.

“I talked to Natasha, three days ago.” You murmured. “She told me, that- that you got a date.” Your face soured quickly.

“And I- I just…” You couldn’t form a sentence. “It just hit me. You were moving on, there just wasn’t a way for us to be together again, ever.” Your vision blurred as you couldn’t stop the tears forming.

“I just felt this sharp pain, knowing that I was probably never going to be with you again… And then I just around the neighborhood one day and Jack asked me on a date…”

You took in a deep breath, “And I said, yes, because, I knew you didn’t love me anymore.” The tears were staining your cheek and Steve was sure he couldn’t breathe.

He wanted to punch himself for hurting you, and the way your cheeks were stained earlier by pleasure were now replaced with pain caused by him which made him want to make it all go away, he wanted nothing but the best for you.

“Hey… hey…” He caught your attention as he softly wiped your cheeks, kissing your tears away.

“I never stopped loving you…” He murmured against your face between the kisses, taking your face in his hands as he stroked your cheeks adoringly.

He sighed, “I never went on the date.” He let out softly. Your face lit up quickly at the information, your eyebrows nuzzled in confusion.

“I didn’t get around to go it, I- I tried. But then as I was about to leave and checked my wallet, that- that picture of you fell out.” He whispered almost.

“You know the one I took when we first got our house? You were working in the garden and I was carrying our stuff.” He gave you a smile, and squeezed your hand.

“Then I found this old camera of yours, the one you got as a kid and had pink stickers on it?” You nodded giggling.

“And I took many pictures of you as you chased me yelling at me to stop because you had dirt on your face and you looked “ugly”.” He scoffed in air quotes.

“You never did, I swear you could live in dirt for a week and I would still think you would be the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” He gave you a smile as you gazed at him in awe.

“We would probably have shower sex for a while but-” You gasped dramatically, giggling as you gave him a playful slap, making Steve chuckle.

“And after I saw that picture, I cancelled, because I never stopped thinking about you, not even a minute. I know we’ve been trying to avoid each other since you know, but I only did that because I couldn’t handle the feelings of seeing you again.” You smiled up at him.

“So, I didn’t stop loving you, I never could.” He sighed.

“I wish I could, but I’m still pretty much in love with you, peach.” He gave you a smile, and you chuckled at hearing the nickname.

“I love you too, Stevie.” You murmured, giving him a light kiss. “I- I don’t know where this will take us, or what will happen. But I want to try again.” You said confidently.

“Me too, sweets, me too.” Steve said happily as he took his place next to you on the bed.

[chas3supremacist]

father figure.

Pairing/s: James Wilson x Platonic!Doctor!Reader

Summary: Wilson's favourite oncologist struggles with POTS.

Request:  Anonymous asked

hi omg i love that you're writing platonic house fanfic! if you're taking requests can i rq like platonic greg house and/or james wilson with a reader who has a chronic illness/pain

Word Count: 612 Words

CW: none I think! Let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Okay. Here goes nothing - also here goes my first house pic! I don't love or hate this, my biggest apologies to the anon who requested this pic - A lot went down from the time I started writing this until now. Please let me know what you think - Likes, reblogs and feedback is always appreciated!

"Y/N"

You hummed and then groaned in discomfort as you opened your eyes, the harsh white light from the ceiling of the doctor's lounge burning your eyes. You recognized the concern written on the blurry face hovering above you - Wilson, the head of the department you worked in. You sighed, a bit embarrassed that your boss had found you passed out because you had been standing up for too long.

"I'm up," You assured him, trying to wave him and his concern off. Fainting was nothing new for you, especially if you'd gone too long without resting - you were diagnosed with POTS when you were 15 and had tried everything that your doctors had suggested to try and treat it, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that this was going to be something you would need to live with since your diagnosis had been 10 years prior. 

"Are you okay?" Wilson helped you up onto your feet, making sure not to rush you, just in case you fainted again. If you were being honest, Wilson was kind of the closest thing you had to a dad, considering your family put you up for adoption when you were six - citing that you were too much for them to look after anymore. You ended up in the foster care system until you turned 18 and got yourself into a good medical school, powering your way through school despite the struggles that came with your illness. 

"Yes, dad, I'm fine," You joked with him, shooting Wilson a tired, weak smile. He chuckled and shook his head at you, you were certainly...something. But you were one of the best oncologists he'd met, specialising in pediatric oncology, your gentle nature made you extremely likeable among your colleagues. "Don't you have better things to be doing? I'm fine now Wilson," You assured him.

"I know, I'm just making sure. I don't want you fainting again, here, have some water," He handed you a bottle of water, since you were told you had to keep your fluids up and try and avoid sugary foods or drinks all you really drank was water. You took the bottle from him and glared at him jokingly - Wilson knew that you could be defensive about him "looking after you" sometimes, but he guessed that was part of the package of growing up without a real family, you never had one set person care about, if even at all.

But no matter how defensive you were - Wilson would never judge you for it. You had your reasons for it; but you would never admit to him, or even yourself that part of you found comfort in your head of department looking out for you in the same manner you wished a father had when you were growing up. You knew that he cared about you - Maybe even more so than some of the other doctors on your ward, you weren't sure why, you just know that he did.

[bimrsadler]

high honor vampire!Arthur trying to hide his nature not only from an F!reader he is growing close with (characterise her for whatever dynamic you like) but also from the rest of the gang. for ease's sake, vampires in this AU don't burn in the sun but ARE oddly sensitive to it

to be indulgent: NSFW or SFW with a lot of sexual tension over the bloodlust? size difference too to emphasize arthur maybe feeling super guilty abt said bloodlust? 👀

Unholy, Unworthy

Pairing: vampire!Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Word count: 3,300

Warnings/tags: vampire au, smut, fluff, light angst, high honor arthur, everything that comes w being a vamp (biting, blood drinking, light bloodplay) established consent w good aftercare, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, size difference

Notes: decided to get down and dirty w the vamp smut so hopefully it’s not too much, still tried to balance it out with our beloved high honor boah

Arthur Morgan was a bad man — this he knew. Of every sin he ever committed, of every awful thing he’d done; the way he was looking at you now, the way he could smell you, made him feel the filthiest.

He watched the hot crimson trail down your finger and onto your delicate wrist, the faint “ouch” a mere whisper behind the harsh ringing in his ears. He wished you didn’t ask to see his knife and God he wished he didn’t give it to you.

“Arthur?” Your voice sounded far enough away that it was a dream. “Arthur? You there?!” Your arm on his knee woke him from his bloodlust stupor.

Taking a sharp breath he tried not to appear too shaken, but feared it was too obvious.

You laughed gently, “it’s only blood, Arthur. Would think you’d be used to that by now.”

Oh darlin’ if you only knew.

“No it’s uh — it ain’t that,” he swallowed hard. “I just hope yer okay…is all.”

“Of course, it’s just a little cut,” you placed your hand on his. “Everything okay?”

His eyes lingered on your narrow wrist and glanced up to see your concern. Guilt surged at the thought how helpless you would be if he gave into his darkness. You were a fine gunslinger, but that wouldn’t help much in a fight with what Arthur had become.

“Yeah’m fine just…” He waved his arms dismissively, too scared to let any more words fall from his lips, “clean yerself up.”

Pulling his sleeves down and tipping the brim of his hat, he protected himself from the sun the best he could as made his way from the shade of the tree, back to his tent.

Any warm beam on his skin now burned instead of comforted, but as long as he was careful in how he dressed and didn’t linger for too long, it was manageable.

Mostly going for night jobs and robberies made things easier but the gang noticed when he chose to avoid the daytime. Headaches and hangovers were becoming a thin excuse.

The inquiries slowed however when he lost his temper, reminding that he still pulled his weight just fine and brought back more money and supplies than anyone else.

But still, someday something would have to give. Arthur entertained the idea that given everything the gang does and the outcasts and misfits they brought in — perhaps they could accept him this way.

It was you that wouldn’t leave his mind though. You’d become close before the change, feelings that blossomed now burned and Arthur could not separate his affection from his bloodlust.

He had given in to his new appetite on several occasions but tried with everything in him to only go for men who were already dammed. Men who were wanted for acts that would lead to hangings, men who committed those acts but escaped hangings.

He had hoped it would make sense and feel warranted but it never did. It wasn’t a justification — it was a necessity.

But it was nothing compared to Arthur’s guilt around you. Even before the change he felt like a goddamn brute next to you, easily twice your size, rough and jagged compared to your grace and charm.

With the harm he was capable of now? He lost sleep over the shame in how he desired you.

He yearned to gently pull your smaller frame against his substantial one, to make you feel safe; to touch your soft skin and hold you, bring you flowers and make you smile.

Yet the daydreams would darken and he felt himself grow hard with want to tilt your head back and open his mouth against your vulnerable neck. To kiss and bite and make you his. To give you everything you’ve ever wanted but to take for himself.

Soft and severe, a carnivorous killer falling in love with an elegant angel.

As the evening wore on Arthur quietly emerged from his tent to journal under a tree outside of camp. It was one of the few things that kept him from losing himself completely and allowed him peace.

Hearing delicate steps approaching, Arthur turned around to see you sheepishly searching for the right words to say.

“I uh…I wanted to check on ya,” he watched amorously as you played with the wrap around your cut palm. “You didn’t seem well earlier but…if you wanna be alone that’s okay.”

This was going to kill him. He wanted your company terribly but at what cost? Standing there in your dress with concern about him, beautiful and radiant as ever. Something he felt he didn’t deserve nor could ever earn.

“Y’can join me fer a bit. But I should head to bed soon…” It was a lie of course, but the best excuse he could muster.

Sitting beside him he could feel the warmth radiating from you and smell the summer sun on your skin.

Not being able to remember the last time he felt tenderness, Arthur practically jumped as he felt your hand rest lovingly on his forearm.

“It’s a nice night isn’t it?”

The moon’s reflection danced along ripples of the lake, water lapping at the shore the only sound accompanying your nervous breaths. “Sure is,” Arthur replied.

Even in the pale moonlight Arthur could see you looking up at him with a soft smile. Your slender fingers rested on his on his solid bicep with your smaller shoulder huddled against his bulky side. He longed for a time when this would have made him feel like a protector — not a predator.

But your soft lips parted ever so slightly as you leaned closer and Arthur Morgan knew he would be a fool to say no.

Your lips met gingerly at first, exploring something new and exciting. His stubble tickled your face and your tongue teased.

The passion exploded as your bodies instinctively flowed against one another’s, hips rutting with purpose and hands roaming.

You both panted with an aching need, and as you deepened the already heated kiss you gently tugged at Arthurs lower lip with your teeth.

Arthur reciprocated, drawing blood as he did.

The sound of your heartbeat filled his ears, he could hear the blood rushing to your lips and heat and everywhere that reacted to his touch.

And the taste, warm iron sweet with the arousal of your kiss; he hadn’t fed in so long. Coming from you it was better than any whiskey or fine wine he’d ever tasted.

A last ditch effort to control his hunger, Arthur recoiled in a panic.

“Arthur…baby it’s okay, it happens.” Your voice was distant once again, background noise amongst his screaming urges.

“Sweetheart —” His drawl gravelly and tone deadly serious, “you have no idea what kinda monster I am.”

Taken aback you observed him with visible confusion. “I’ve been in the gang long enough Arthur, I know what goes on —”

“No!” Arthur hissed, harsher than he meant to. “Look…yer gonna think I’m crazy but I need ya to understand. Y’know them stories you and the girls were talkin’ about? The vampires in Saint Denis?”

Arthur paused while he watched your brows furrow in anticipation, there was no going back now.

“It’s all real, I ran into one and he…he turned me. I need you to know this so you can stay away from me. For your own protection. Got it?”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Well can you prove it?”

Arthur wrapped his hand around your slender wrist and placed your palm against his cold chest. He watched with melancholy as you reacted to his much too chilled skin.

Letting go with a grunt, he began unbuttoning his shirt. It was never how he imagined showing his body to you; frustrated, scared and cornered, but if it convinced you…

Arthur silently showed you the many bullet and knife scars in places that should have killed — not healed; the round marks in front of his heart, the white hot slashes deep into his ribs and stomach.

“I was able to survive all of this,” he tilted his head back and bared his fangs, “because of this.”

The look on your face showed that you believed him. An unreal sense of unease and confusion sat plainly in your eyes.

“Darlin’ I mean it. Whenever I’m ’round ya it’s a hunger, a thirst. And I don’t know how long I can control it.”

Arthur defeatedly turned to walk away, to hang his head in shame and wait for the consequences of revealing the truth but instead felt your pleading hand in his.

“What if I don’t want you to control it?”

Arthur’s words caught in in his throat, utterly stunned. He watched your pretty doe eyes looking up at him expectantly.

Running your hands along the scars and slashes, you lovingly touched every part of him he had revealed in angst. His muscles twitched under your touch, the broad plains and curves exciting you on further.

“You didn’t ask for what happened to you and you don’t deserve me any less.” You were nervous but Arthur had never frightened or hurt you, and if he needed to hurt you to keep the beast at bay?

You could think of times when a little pain wouldn’t be so bad.

Biting your lip you flicked your tongue out to dab at the blood, licking languidly as Arthur stared, slack jawed and ready to explode.

Gathering your blood on your fingertip your brought it to Arthur’s lips. “Open up…”

Arthur did as he was told, wrapping his hands around your wrist and sucking at the blood on your finger with the ferocity of a starving man.

He was only driven further to give into his thirst but managed to compose himself after the small taste.

“Christ alive darlin’…”

You placed your warm palm on his cool chest. He hadn’t felt another’s warmth in so long. “I don’t want you any less Arthur.”

Arthur embraced your much smaller frame, kissing intensely. The taste of blood — your blood, sent a blazing electricity through his veins. He wanted to be gentle, so badly. But his hunger and his ache was unbearable.

“You can bite me Arthur.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, soft and timid.

Arthur let out a hungry growl in response, eager but afraid of his compulsion. “You sure?” Ain’t no one ever done this…willingly.”

You pulled down the lace of your dress that had been covering most of your neck, exposing the tendon and vein that breathed under delicate skin.

Arthur gazed hungrily as if he was seeing a woman bare before him for the first time. In a way, he was. You were the first he shared his affliction with and the first who allowed him to indulge. To do something so taboo and dangerous — so intimate.

He was in awe of you.

Eyeing you desperately, he watched as you undressed to nothing but your underwear and placed your back to the tree. Tilting your head to the side, you exposed your neck to him.

Arthur kissed your pulse point, dragging his tongue along the tender flesh before thinking better of it.

Kissing a trail down to just above your collar bone, he stopped at the junction where your neck met your shoulder. “It’ll hurt less here, I’ll try to be gentle…”

“I trust you Arthur,” you mewled.

His fangs pierced the soft skin, slow and firm, not sinking in fully until he heard you moan. His reservations eased when you reacted with pleasure instead of pain.

His grip on you tightened, sucking gently on the wounds he created. Unable to suppress his bliss, he let out a primal groan against your neck, a deep rumble from his chest vibrating against you.

Arthur’s hardness pressed against your thigh, grinding against it roughly as the blood flow painted his tongue.

Shuddering with satisfaction he pulled away to see you looking as drunk as he felt. Messy hair and lust-blown eyes; you smiled at him, dear God you actually smiled.

He felt unholy and unworthy.

Arthur noticed a thick line of blood traveling down the curve of your collarbone and the swell of your breast.

A wicked smirk overcame him as he licked at the same path the blood was moving before reaching his goal. Sucking your nipple into his mouth, he played with the sensitive peak while cleaning the blood — careful not to waste a drop or a chance at pleasing you.

Locking your fingers through Arthur’s hair you pulled his face closer to your chest, crying his name as you did.

Arthur pulled you away from the tree and urged you to lie down in the soft grass beneath it, positioning himself between your legs.

Running his rough hand over the softness of your thigh brought forth goosebumps much to his delight.

Kissing and nipping at your raised skin he gazed up at you. “Would love to bite ya here,” he ran a soothing hand over your inner thigh — so close to your aching heat. “If you’ll allow me…”

“Yes Arthur,” you replied, nearly begging.

Sinking his teeth into your thigh he sucked with more pressure this time, continuing to touch comfortingly with his sizable hand.

You watched as the blood dripped down Arthur’s chin and down your thigh, mingling with the slick gathering.

The pain was nothing compared to the arousal and much to your surprise, the throbbing in your center grew as Arthur fed.

You watched as he rutted against the grass, the sounds coming from him struck somewhere between animalistic and erotic, soft pants and deeps groans. You swore you could have come right then and there.

Arthur licked his lips with a satisfied hum. With his bloodlust becoming satiated he could think clearly again, and the only thing on his mind was making you feel good.

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t the most confident in his abilities but he sure as hell would try, and if you enjoyed it half as much as his darker side — Arthur could die a happy man, if he could die.

“How ’bout a gentler taste,” he ghosted his fingertips along your slit “…somewhere else?”

Your hips jolted forward at his touch with a whine, a clear enough answer. “So wet already…”

Moving to his target slowly and tenderly, his tongue grazed along your swollen bud teasing with light flicks.

But the needy “please,” that fell from you lips as you writhed beneath him made it impossible to keep you waiting.

Arthur buried his face where you needed him most, lapping at your heat the same way he indulged in the blood at your neck and thigh. His tongue savored the sweet warmth, a nectar of a different kind.

“Goddamn girl,” Arthur dragged the flat of his tongue along your slit and up your bundle of nerves. “I could do this all night…”

But it didn’t take long for the twitches of pleasure to start in your abdomen and flutter in your core. Any pain from the bites was long since dulled as your climax washed over you, rubbing against Arthur’s face while he held your thighs down.

Breathless but wanting more, you pulled him up desperately to kiss your slick off his lips while ripping the rest of his clothing off.

“Jesus,” Arthur broke the kiss to plant smaller ones to where his fangs had penetrated your neck. “You really do want me huh?”

Appreciating the comfort he was giving, you held him closer to your neck. “You sound surprised…”

“I am darlin’, never thought you’d want me even before my change.”

“I have wanted you,” you found his hardness and stroked slowly, “ and I still do.”

You pushed him forward by the base of his spine, encouraging him to take over. Getting the hint, he lined up at your soaked entrance.

But Arthur moved slowly, inch by throbbing inch until he was pressed deep inside your pussy. He wanted to fuck you with wild abandon, but he had been starved of love and blood for so long that he didn’t realize how badly he needed the former.

The softness and warmth of your skin as he wrapped his arms around you was intoxicating and he wanted to savor every second. Sensing his sentimentality, you slowed your need and kissed his forehead.

Arthur’s pace was slow and sultry, grinding into you like it was his on purpose on earth. And in that moment it was for him.

There wasn’t a thought in his head other than how good your tight pussy felt as he pumped in and out, feeling your wetness spread more as he did.

“Yes, oh — God please don’t stop,” you whined into his ear.

Arthur could swear that it was the most gorgeous sound he ever heard. As he pushed breaths out of you with each thrust and watched your breasts bounce, he was reassured that he wasn’t just a beast.

Maybe you tamed the part of him that needed it or maybe you liked it untamed. But either way, Arthur wasn’t afraid to envelope you, to use his power for pleasure, not when you twitched and swore beneath him.

“That’s it girl, takin’ me so well ain’tcha?” Arthur’s rhythm quickened as he rose to his knees and spread you further.

The sound of your sex and hips snapping together resonated around you as he massaged your ass, lifting you slightly.

The new position allowed for Arthur’s cock to hit deeper in your core, forcing a gasp out of you as he did.

“Yeah?” Arthur let out a breathy laugh, “that feel good?”

“So good,” you wrapped your legs around the small of his back and thrusted in tandem with him.

Arthur exhaled shakily, the show of exuberance and feeling of your walls clenching around him made his release surge closer.

“Oh darlin’,” Arthur moaned sweetly, “I’m almost there…”

“Give it to me Arthur, fill me up.”

With those words he couldn’t pull out in time if he’d wanted to.

Arthur’s pace stuttered to shallow thrusts as his abdomen flexed, pulsing inside of you with a sharp inhale.

Pressing flush against your mound he rutted his seed as deep into you as he could, panting and groaning raggedly.

Arthur didn’t hold back with his noise, praise or indulgence. He had never let go like this with anyone and it was long, long overdue.

Clarity set in quickly for him however, full of strong and mixed emotions that he was unsure how to process; imagining that it must have been similar for you.

His priority was making sure you were okay.

Pulling you close to him he wrapped an arm around your side and retrieved a clean bandanna with the other. Peppering you with gentle kisses, he thoughtfully tended to the small wounds with water and cloth.

“Got some balms I can put on these for ya,” he proposed timidly. “Was it too much darlin’? You doin’ okay?”

“Never been better big guy,” you smiled wide and up at him, wanting to make sure he had no doubts. “A monster wouldn’t take the time to do this ya know…”

He smirked with a small chuckle, “just don’t wanna hurt ya…”

“I very much enjoyed this, and I would do it again.”

Again.

Arthur wondered how he could be so lucky to hear that word fall from your lips in reference to him.

“Well in that case, let’s getcha back to my tent… stay with me tonight?”

“Don’t you stay up all night now?”

“Usually, you can stay up with me if you want. But I’d be just as happy to hold ya while ya sleep.”

And so he did. Arthur walked you back with his arm around your waist and brought you water to drink.

After making sure you were properly cared for he laid down and pulled you close to him, pressing the side of your head to his chest while stroking your hair.

He felt like he could hold onto the summer sun as long as he could hold onto you.

[longlivefanfic-net]

Rinse, Repeat

Summary: Eddie Munson comes into the diner you work at and asks you for help taking care of his hair. You go to his house and help him deep condition. All fluff/angst (for now)!

Content: Marijuana use, fluff, mention of parent death, Soft!Eddie <3

Word Count: 6k

A/N: Yeah I have been daydreaming about this fic since that man’s dry ass head of hair first came into my life. I love him but dear god,, his life would be changed by the curly girl method. Also: Mommy issues Munson <33 All fluff/angst (barely), smut half to come later!!

Standing with your back pressed against the formica countertop that surrounded the opening into the greasy, diner kitchen, you could feel the smooth metal pressing a chill through your too-thin uniform shirt. The diner was practically empty, only a few regulars sipping coffee at the counter while they read the newspaper or the paperback novels they brought with them. You ran your fingers through your hair, lifting and shaking the limp roots. You desperately needed the night off you were barreling towards at the end of this shift–you couldn’t remember when the last time you had actually washed your hair was, the polish on your nails was chipped, and you had spotted a small breakout in the mirror this morning that you wanted to treat before it had time to swell. You had also noticed how haggard your eyes looked; the purple splotches under your eyes nearly looked like bruises and the lines around your eyes ran deep. “Come on,” the other waitress on your shift, Jenny, said. “Come out with us tonight!” Some rich, washed-up jock who had graduated from Hawkins five years ago was having a party tonight, and Jenny desperately wanted backup with her at the party. You knew, however, that going to parties with Jenny always resulted in you either getting left talking to some guy’s creepy friend or holding her hair back while she puked. “Nuh-uh,” you said. “No way. I’m spending tonight actually getting some rest. Like you’re supposed to do on your time off?” Jenny laughed at that, and launched into her favorite lecture for you–you’re only young once, everyone dies, don’t you want to tell your grandkids about how fun you used to be, etc., etc.. 

The bell over the door chimed, tinny, as it swung open, but you kept your back to the door and whoever walked in. The watery morning sunlight coming in through the glass windows of the diner this morning had the same impact on your eyes as if you were severely hung over, and you were avoiding it at all costs. Jenny watched the new customer walk in, her eyes tracking them with a slight grimace turning the corner of her mouth down. “Yeah,” she said, cutting herself off. “You’re taking this one.” She shoved a notepad into your hands and then turned away, picking up a coffee pot with an orange handle to refill the mugs lined down the counter. The sigh that broke out of your mouth was only a little louder than socially acceptable as you turned around, looking for the outline of a new person against the harsh gleam of sunlight bouncing off of the chrome napkin dispensers and tops of sugar shakers. In the far corner, where the light was weakest, sat Eddie Munson. Your heart thumped, slightly, against your ribs as he looked up at you from across the room. He smiled, his lips pressed together, and you ran a quick hand over your shirt, attempting to smooth out any wrinkles before you walked over to his booth. “Hey Eddie,” you said, voice light. 

You had met Eddie Munson in high school years ago. You were warned against him almost immediately–he was a freak, everyone said, and he smoked weed and probably had other stuff, hard stuff like what people get arrested for and your mom would cry about. You had heard your friends bring his name up too many times, always punctuating it with shrill laughs, but you could never convince yourself to laugh at their jokes: you didn’t know Eddie that well, but he had always been almost overly polite in the few conversations the two of you had had, and you saw the way he was with his Hellfire kids: how he teased them and then made them smile like he was their big brother. Sure, he wore a lot of black and chains, and you had only heard of most of the band names on his denim vest when your mom was watching a TV special about the rise of Satanic cults in America, but you just couldn’t wrap your mind around the idea of Eddie Munson being anything less than…well, than a nice guy. 

You were thinking about this as you walked up to Eddie’s booth of choice. He came into the diner every now and then–usually early in the morning or late at night, and he always tipped well and made polite conversation with you. The other girls avoided his table, as if bringing him a plate of pancakes with a side of fries would infect them. As a result, you had become very familiar with his routines: early mornings (like this one) were usually accompanied by coffee, no cream, and a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. Then, he would sit on the hood of his van in the parking lot, smoking, before getting in and driving away. “Usual this morning?” You asked as you approached him, pen already on your notepad. “Good morning,” Eddie said, smiling at you with a soft head shake, like he was clearing his brain. “You look particularly chipper this morning.” You laughed, though you weren’t sure if the joke was Eddie’s sarcasm or how awful you knew you looked. “I know what I look like right now, Eddie,  and it’s not chipper.” “Well,” Eddie said, jerking his head slightly to the side, “It’s not like I can say ‘Hey, you look like shit today.’” You laughed again, a slight blush stealing up your cheeks. “Don’t worry,” you say, a slight smile on your lips still. “I’ll look better the next time you come in.” “Well, if that’s a promise, I’ll go ahead and take my usual for today and make plans to come back tomorrow.” He winked at you, handing you the laminated, oversized menu as he did. You would have blushed, but, frankly, this was just how Eddie talked to girls—even the ones who barely looked at him. 

You came back with a mug and a pot of coffee after putting in his order at the window, and you set the mug at the end of the table, sliding it across the smooth tabletop to him. His hands reach out, wrapping silver-clad, guitar-string-calloused fingers around the cup as you fill it, and you can’t help but think about how this image almost looks like a still life painting–Coffee With Freaks, you think to yourself, emphasizing the s as you count yourself. You turn on your heel, intending to walk back to the counter where Jenny is glaring at the two of you, but Eddie stops you. “So,” he says, eyes on his coffee as he pours an absurd amount of sugar into the cup, “Doing anything fun tonight?” You look back at Jenny over your shoulder, and her eyebrows are raised at you in horror. “Not really,” you say, turning back to where Eddie has shifted his face to look up at you. “Jenny invited me to a party, but I think I’m going to take a night off.” “Oh,” Eddie says, more a grunt than a word. “And what does a girl like you do on a night off?” You smile slightly, unsure how close exactly the conversation is coming to flirting. “Rent a movie, paint my nails, wash my hair. You know,” you say, shrugging. “Girl stuff.” “Girl stuff,” Eddie says, nodding. His order is called, and you go back behind the counter, avoiding Jenny’s wide eyes as you grab the warm plate and bring it back to Eddie’s table. 

“So is ‘girl stuff’ the reason your hair usually looks so good?” Eddie says when you set his plate down in front of him. You feel a slight flush run up your neck at the implication that he notices your hair (as well as the subtle mention of how you look right now). “I guess,” you say, noncommittally. Eddie gestures to the empty seat across from him with his fork. “Sit,” he grunts, “Tell me about this girl stuff.” You look around the diner. Jenny is distracted, cashing out one of the men who has finally finished his cup of coffee, and there are barely enough people in the building to necessitate you and Jenny both being there. You slide into the seat quickly, watching Eddie reach for tabasco to sprinkle over his eggs. Your heart is squeezing, turning in on itself inside your chest as you watch him replace the bottle at the end of the table and look up at you, grinning. This feels…taboo. Sitting with Eddie Munson, talking to him about what, exactly? Your hair care routine? If any of the girls you and Jenny go to parties with walked in right now, you’re pretty sure you would never live this down–but something in you refuses to let your common sense move your legs to standing and walk away. Mouth full, Eddie gestures to you and then to his plate, sliding the edge with bacon closer to you. Oh, what the hell, you think. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

You reach out, snagging the toast off the corner of the plate instead and take a small bite, chewing it slowly. Eddie grins at you, his cheeks bulging around his tightly closed mouth. He swallows, your eyes following the movement of his throat, and speaks: “Honestly, I want your advice on my hair,” he says, his face totally serious. “I’m pretty sure those commercials about ‘dry hair’ were just talking about me.” You laugh at this, a small giggle that makes the corners of your mouth turn up, and he tilts his chin back slightly as he smiles back at you. “How do you get those luscious locks of yours?” He says, gesturing his empty fork towards you before stabbing up another clump of red-splattered eggs. You shrug again, noticing that you seem to shrug a lot around Eddie, and say, “For you, Munson, I would start with a full conditioner treatment.” You lean forward, crossing your arms on the table. “I’m talking the works–conditioner, shower cap, and rinse before we even get into the shampoo stage, and then a shorter round of conditioner.” “Mm-hm,” he murmurs behind his full mouth before swallowing. “And where does someone get this kind of shit? Is there some sort of brightly lit store where Hawkins mommies will turn their kiddies eyes away from me as I pick up these lovely products?” Eddie always does that–makes jokes about the way people think about him, about how they treat him. Either he really, genuinely doesn’t care, or he’s better at pretending than you are. You bite your lip, barely, but his eyes flick down to your mouth at the slight movement before coming back up to yours. What the hell, you think again. “I have all the stuff, actually,” you say, “So I could just bring it over to your place.” 

Eddie sits back against the booth seat, beaming softly, his mouth puckered into a smile. “Really? On your night off?” “I was going to do my hair tonight anyway,” you say, “It wouldn’t be too hard to help you with…all of that, too.” You gesture vaguely to his head of wild, dark curls, and Eddie blushes this time (and, you can’t help but notice, the slight pink stain dancing over his cheekbones only makes him look gentle, softer). “Alright,” he says, bobbing his head, “You can come to my trailer when you get off tonight.” 

*****

Your fist comes up to rap against the metal door and lowers before making contact–again. You had finished your shift thirty minutes earlier, driving home at speeds that would have Hawkins PD concerned if they were ever actually patrolling, and changed out of your uniform before tossing all of your hair products into a bag. Peeling out of your driveway, you had punched the gas pedal nearly to the floor–but as you got closer to the trailer park, your car slowed, your foot easing off the gas of it’s own will. Parking in front of the trailer Eddie had described to you, you had chewed on your bottom lip aggressively. How stupid did it make you if you went through with this? Jenny had already been scandalized when Eddie left, nodding his head to you and quietly saying that he would see you tonight. You knew that, right now, Jenny and all of your other friends were probably shrieking with laughter, making up obscene rumors about what you and “the freak” were doing–or, equally likely, they were already too drunk to remember you weren’t at the party with them. You had screwed up your courage and gotten out of the car, barely remembering your bag of hair products in the passenger seat, and marched right up to Eddie’s door…where you had stood for the last five minutes. Every time you picked up your hand to knock, this overwhelming wave of fear would wash over you–you couldn’t go through with it. Maybe you should just go back to the car; Munson had probably already forgotten his invitation to you, and you could go home and do your beauty routine as planned: alone. Just as you had finally decided to leave, the door opened with a low screech of hinges to reveal a warm, softly glowing interior partially blocked by a silhouette. “Hey!” Eddie crowed. “I thought I heard a car but then no one knocked–you get lost?” He looked at you, eyes slightly crinkling at the edges, and you knew he was giving you an excuse for why he had caught you with your back turned to his front door. 

“Actually,” you said, tensing your jaw. “I was about to go home.” Eddie’s face falls slightly before a careful guard comes over it. “Ah.” “See,” you say, breath a little shaky as the words rush out, “I’m just not sure we can save your hair. I mean, it’s really a desperate case, Munson–but I do think it’s my responsibility to give it a try.” You smile slightly, trying to show him that you’re teasing, and he smiles back. Suddenly, he steps back, throwing an arm out to the side as he bends slightly at the waist to indicate that you should come in. You do, brushing his torso with the side of your arm as you cross the threshold. Hopefully he didn’t notice the goosebumps that immediately raced over your skin at the contact. You set your bag down, turning in a slow circle as you examine the room. The soft light is coming from multiple lamps around the space, and the room appears to be decorated in shades of brown. The living room is lined with a collection of men’s caps, and a shelf over the drawn curtains has a variety of mugs. You walk over to them, peering closely. “Garfield?” You say, pointing to one near the end. “My uncle’s,” Eddie says, coloring slightly as one of his hands reaches up behind him to fidget with his hair. When you smile, Eddie continues, explaining, “It’s a one bedroom. He sleeps out here and I have the bedroom.” “That’s nice,” you say, nodding your head a little as you turn to look at him. You really examine Eddie: in this soft, warm light he glows slightly, and his features look more gentle than usual, almost like how he looks when he claps one of his Hellfire kids on the back. He’s wearing a long sleeved t-shirt, the sleeves pushed up over his forearms, and your eyes linger on the edges of his tattoos before sliding down, noting the chain on his jeans and his bare feet. You continue to turn around the room, taking in every inch of the interior. For the town freak’s house, it all seems overwhelmingly…normal. 

“So,” Eddie says, clearing his throat to dispel the silence. “How do we do this hair stuff? What do you need from me?” He’s got his hands in his pockets, and something about the way he’s standing makes him look almost embarrassed. “Not much,” you say. “I brought pretty much everything we need with me, so we really just need a place to hang out for a while–oh! Where’s your kitchen?” Eddie looks at you, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkling as he points behind you. You turn, walking towards the darker room. Inside, flicking the light switch to turn on the soft, yellow glow, you look around. The kitchen is small but there’s a countertop going from one wall to the other, the sink set in the far right corner. The cabinets over the counter don’t leave much space, but that won’t be much of a problem. You turn back to the living room, surprised to find Eddie standing directly behind you. His hands come up instantly, resting directly over your shoulders and keeping you from bumping into him. “Oh!” You exhale. “Sorry. Um, this is fine. So where should we go to hang out?” 

Eddie leads you down the only hallway to his bedroom, your bag in his hand. “My uncle won’t be home until morning,” he says over his shoulder, “but I try to make his space his own, you know?” “Yeah,” you say, although you don’t, not really. Still, it’s nice that Eddie does that–actually, the way he looks every time he talks about his uncle is nice. It’s clear that Eddie loves his uncle, and you can’t help but think how surprisingly sweet he actually is under the tough persona he puts on for the people of Hawkins. You walk into his room and your feet immediately come to a stop as you take in the room around you. “Wow, Munson,” you say. Eddie stands to the side, running his free hand up the side of his neck to fist at his pulse, letting you look your fill. The walls are covered: posters, mostly from his metal bands as best as you can tell; art, some of which looks like hand drawn illustrations of, what you assume are, dungeons and dragons characters; even a pair of handcuffs hanging on the wall, like some trophy for his supposed run-ins with the police department (or, you think, blushing slightly, maybe he keeps them there for easy access). The window has a sheet stapled over it for a curtain, and it falls lightly over a large amp that you assume is used for the red guitar hanging over the mirror. Every surface in the room is cramped, on the verge of overflowing and spilling out oversized books, loose guitar picks, change, and little balls that, when you pick one up to examine, you realize are dice with too many sides. You set the die down, noticing a large box of cassettes on the floor next to a boombox with a tape deck. Actually–you look around the room again–there are cassettes on almost every surface. His nightstand, his dresser, his amp all have at least one cassette box on them, and the box on the floor is filled to the brim as well. 

You turn to him. “You really like music, huh?” You ask, eyebrows high and a slight smile playing on your lips as you pick up the cassette box closest to you. Eddie’s cheeks turn slightly pink as his hand slips down his neck to hide back in his pocket. “Yeah,” he says, looking around the room at the many cassettes he has scattered around. “I get a lot of them at garage sales. I buy some of them–I, uh,” he says, blushing again as he pointedly looks away from you, “I definitely stole a few here and there. And I made my own mixtapes, obviously.” Your eyebrows lift again as he looks at you. “So the rumors are true,” you say. Eddie’s face falls immediately, and his mouth hardens into a thin line. “What rumors?” “Relax, Munson,” you say, bringing your hands up. “I just meant that you’re a bad boy.” At this, Eddie laughs, harsh and loud. “A bad boy,” he says nodding, “I like that.” You cross the narrow space between the two of you, taking your bag out of his hand. “How about you pick an album to play for me while I do your hair?” You ask, and Eddie’s face is radiant. Somehow, you’ve managed to say the exact thing that could mean the most to him, and he genuinely seems to almost glow with excitement. “What kind of music do you like?” He asks. “I don’t really listen to a lot of music,” you say, lifting your shoulders noncommittally. “Just whatever comes on the radio at work.” “Ugh,” Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. “The stuff you guys play in the diner is terrible. I mean, Jesus H. Christ, we get it, Madonna exists. That doesn’t mean I want to listen to her all the time!” You laugh, slightly shocked at hearing Eddie Munson even say the name Madonna. “I’ve got the perfect album for you,” Eddie says, holding up a cassette with dark blue streaks of what you think are lightning over the cover. “Metallica. Now, this is music,” he says, popping the cassette into the tape deck. 

He presses play, turning the volume down considerably. The gentle strains of guitar are joined by drums and quickly turn to a much more aggressive sound as you set your bag down on Eddie’s bed and begin to rifle through it, looking through the products you brought. You notice that Eddie’s bed is well made and suspiciously clean compared to the rest of the room, but you push the idea of him changing his sheets before you came over out of your head. “Come sit down,” you say, pulling out a bottle of conditioner, a comb, and a scrunchie. Eddie does as he’s ordered, sitting next to where you’re standing. He picks up the bottle you’re about to open and examines it. “Is this that shit Brooke Shields uses?” He asks, obviously skeptical. You can’t stop yourself from laughing, shaking your head with a smile, and he angles his head slightly towards you, watching you. “How often do you wash your hair?” You ask him. Looking scandalized, Eddie replies “Every day. I’m not gross.” You shake your head again, rolling your eyes slightly this time. “That’s half of your problem at least,” you say. “But at least it’s clean to start with right now.” You move, coming to stand in between Eddie’s legs, and reach your hand out towards Eddie’s hair, stopping before you touch him. Your hand hovers over his mass of black waves and you look down at his face. “Is it…okay?” You ask. “For me to touch you?” You think you see a slight flush steal up his neck, but he nods all the same. You allow your fingers to rest gently on his head before digging them in, quickly combing your hands through his hair. It is dry, but it’s also long, and brushing your fingers through it has worked up a scent of soap and a little bit of tobacco smoke. “Well?” He asks from below you. “Is it salvageable?” You laugh, looking down at him. Suddenly, you realize his face is almost completely level with your chest and the slight shock makes your ribs expand with a stifled gasp. Seeing this movement, Eddie looks up at you suddenly–the two of you make eye contact and flush at the exact same time, bright red staining both of your cheeks as you quickly look away. 

“I think we can save your hair,” you say, clearing your throat slightly. You start applying conditioner to his dark locks, working it well and truly into the roots before combing it all the way down to the ends. The feel of the smooth cream slides between your fingers, and you think you hear him hum slightly more than once, though you’re unsure whether it’s along to the music or in happiness. It’s nice, surprisingly, to work your fingers through his hair. When you’ve applied it thoroughly, making his dark locks hang in clumps, you slide his hair back up until you’ve brought it all together at the back of his skull. Leaning across Eddie’s torso, you grab your scrunchie off the bed and use it to tie his hair up in place. “There,” you say. “Now what?” He asks, tilting his head up to look at you. He looks cute like this, you think, the thought unbidden. “Um, now I’m going to wash my hands,” you say, holding up your conditioner-covered hands. “And then we’ll let it sit for a while.” Eddie points you to the bathroom, and you take a moment in the cramped space to stare at your reflection in the mirror. It’s okay to be friends with the freak, you think, but you’re not going to have a crush on him. It’s Eddie fucking Munson! 

You come back from the bathroom right as the tape player clicks over to a new song. “Oh, you’ve got to listen to this one,” Eddie says. He grabs your hand as you approach the bed, tugging you down to sit next to him as the music plays. Even with the volume turned down, it seems to fill the small space, pushing the two of you closer. A bell chimes out, quickly accompanied by a guitar and drums. The beat is immediately addictive and you can’t stop your head from nodding ever so slightly in time to it. When the guitar changes, Eddie turns to look at you. He’s smiling, his eyes hopeful, and when you smile back at him his grin grows wider. By the time the singer joins in, you’ve already decided to like the song if only because of how happy it makes Eddie. “Hold on,” Eddie says. “Just–trust me on this.” You look at him, your eyebrows sliding together in confusion just before he places his hands on your shoulders–and shoves you backwards onto the bed. Your body hits the mattress, and you stare at the ceiling in shock. A thumping sound and a soft bounce next to you tells you that Eddie has laid down too, dangling his head over the other side of the mattress. “Some music is just meant to be listened to while you’re laying down,” he says softly. The rest of the song plays, and you have to agree with him–some songs are meant to be listened to laying down. 

You spend the next thirty minutes staring at Munson’s ceiling, listening to Metallica. He sits up after a minute and asks if it’s okay with you if he smokes. “It’s your room, Munson,” you say, still on your back. “Yeah, princess, but what I’m going to light might make you feel a little lightheaded.” “Really?” You ask, sitting up. “Are you smoking pot?” Munson nods, eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah,” you say, laying back down. “Go ahead and light up.” The smell was actually familiar to you–you had smelled it in the high school parking lot more than enough times, and it almost smelled good to you here, in the tight confines of Eddie’s bedroom. You found your eyes drifting softly closed after a few minutes, either a result of the exhaustion from your long week or the weed. “Hey,” Eddie said, quietly. “You okay?” “Just enjoying your music, Munson,” you muttered back, keeping your eyes just barely open. The tape clicked and you heard Eddie stand up, pop the tape deck open, flip the tape, and replace it before the music started again. When you felt the mattress bounce under your body, you knew Eddie had come to sit beside you again. Somehow it didn’t surprise you when you felt his fingers, calloused and cool to the touch, slide over the palm of your hand closest to him and wrap around your own. The two of you sat there like that–you on your back, eyelids heavy, Eddie sitting next to you, stroking long circles over the back of your hand with his thumb–until the tape came to it’s final conclusion. 

“Well,” Eddie said as you sat up, looking at you expectantly. “What did you think?” “It was…kind of incredible, Eddie.” He grinned at you, tucking his chin slightly as he angled his head. “Kind of incredible? Kind of? It’s fucking Metallica,” he laughed softly, rolling his eyes. “Okay, fine,” you say, “Really incredible. Now, can we go rinse your hair in the kitchen?” “Oh,” Eddie says, hand reaching up to the slick bun on the back of his head. The tattoos on his forearm flicker with the movement of muscle, and you can’t stop yourself from reaching out a hand to place over the art. Eddie freezes at your touch, his entire body stiffening until you pull all but your index finger back, tracing the black lines of the artwork on his arm. You bite your lip, just barely, and turn your eyes up to look at him. He’s staring at your fingers, watching your hand move over his skin and summon goosebumps to the surface of his delicate skin. When he looks at you, you drop your hand back to your side and stare at him for one, two seconds longer than you should. He stands up suddenly, almost startling you with how quick his movements are. “Rinse,” he says, and he extends a hand to you that you grip tightly as you regain your feet. You expect him to let go of your hand as soon as you’re standing, but instead he begins to walk down the hallway, pulling your wrist slightly as you trail behind him. He looks…beautiful, you think as you follow him down the hallway. The knot of hair on the back of his head, the chain glinting in the yellow lamp light across his hips, the rumpled shirt, even the casualness of his bare feet, all come together to paint a version of this man you had never considered before. A version that’s more than Eddie Munson, town freak, weed dealer, D&D player; a version that’s Eddie Munson, who loves his uncle, is always listening to music, and, maybe, can be gentler than you had ever dreamed. 

In the kitchen, Eddie turns to you expectantly. “Okay,” he says, clapping his hands together. The noise startles you out of your reverie, breaking your eyes away from his body for the first time in a while. “Now what?” “On the cabinet, Munson,” you say, pointing to the long shelf formed by the countertop against the wall. His brows draw down in confusion as a half grimace twists his lips. “Excuse me, princess?” You walk over to the sink, patting the countertop next to it with two heavy slaps. “Up. Sit here.” Eddie comes over and turns around, putting his hands behind him on the counter as he jumps slightly, shifting his hips back in the same moment to perch on the surprisingly clean cabinets. “Lay down,” you say, “And put your head over the sink.” Eddie looks at you for a moment as he pulls your scrunchie out of his hair and slides it over his wrist, the hint of a smile playing at his mouth when he does as you command. Once he’s laying on his back, his round, wide eyes looking up at you, you turn on the water, slowly warming it up away from his face. You reach over Eddie, unfortunately aware of how close your torso is to his face in this position, and grab the small hose connected to the faucet. Testing the water temperature on your wrist, you find it satisfactory and start to gently rinse out his hair. The thick locks grow heavy with the weight of the water, and they feel smooth and slick under your fingers. One hand maneuvers the spray over his hair while the other supports his neck, occasionally scratching your fingertips into the base of his scalp. “Where did you learn to do this kind of stuff?” Eddie asks. You look at his face, and he’s watching you carefully, a sort of reverence on his face. “My mom used to do this for me,” you say, softly. “When I was a kid.” “Oh,” Eddie says, turning his eyes to the ceiling. “That explains why I’ve never done it, I guess.” 

You don’t say anything. You don’t know much about Eddie’s parents, except that they’re not around. You turn the heat up slightly on the water, focusing on rinsing the conditioner down into the sink. “She died,” Eddie says, casually, and you feel your hands still for a moment. In the silence, you look at his face. He’s still looking straight up, eyes on the ceiling, but he looks serious now. “It wouldn’t have made a lot of difference,” he says, “if she had lived. Munson’s have never been the good guys in this town. But I do kind of wish she had been around. To take care of me instead of my uncle.” He sighs, his breath coming out in a heavy stream. “It would have been nice, I think, to have someone teach me this kind of stuff.” His eyes come back to yours, a slight smile on his mouth. “This girl stuff.” You smile back at him, and your fingers scratch in the base of his scalp as you resume the water flow. He closes his eyes and lets out a sound that’s almost like purring. “God,” he hums, “that feels incredible.” You chuckle slightly, and he opens his eyes to look at you.“So this is something moms do?” he asks. You laugh, tilting your head back. “Are you implying that you see me as a mother figure, Munson?” “No! God no! Well, I mean, you could be a mom if you wanted–” You laugh, loudly, temporarily relieving the pressure on the handle of the hose so you don’t spray water directly into his face as he awkwardly dances around his own word choice. 

When you regain your breath and stop laughing you resume spraying, pretending not to notice his overserious focus on the ceiling and the patches of red on his cheeks as you brush your fingers across the edges of his temple, working the conditioner out of his roots. “It’s just something people do for the people they care about,” you say, intent on his hair as you answer his earlier question. “So you care about me?” Your eyes jump to his, your hand releasing the clamp on the hose immediately. He’s gazing up at you from the sink, eyes wide and warm brown, and you can feel the stillness of his body in your hands as you continue to support his head and neck. There’s a slight flicker of muscle along his jaw, the only sign that he’s waiting for you to answer him in the silence that sits between the two of you now. “I want to do this for you, Eddie,” you say, and it hits you in that moment how true that sentence is. His brows scrunch together slightly as the skin around his eyes crease. “Is that a yes?” You lean down, slowly, hand still in his sopping wet hair supporting his neck. Gently, nervously, you brush your lips across his mouth, the muscle in his jaw releasing as his mouth falls open just slightly. “Yes,” you say quietly, pulling back. His eyes are, somehow, even wider when he opens them, his lips somehow rosier as he looks at you. “Can I sit up yet?” He asks, voice low. You wrap your hands around his hair, squeezing tightly to wring as much water as possible out of his locks, and grab his hands, helping to pull him to sitting. He swings his legs down, immediately settling a leg on either side of your body as he yanks your hands, bringing your body crashing into his. The thump of his head hitting the cabinet behind him is loud, and you wince for him as he laughs. “Are you okay?” You ask, turning your face up to his. “Never better,” he says, tucking his chin as he leans down to kiss you.