#i forget there’s no real answers to anything because I’m not even trying to find answers I just want comfort

[abnormalpsychology]

Sometimes this site gives me a much brighter flame of hope for the future and sometimes it makes me a whole lot worse. I think that’s worth being transparent about actually

[silencesscreams]

i can see you

james potter x best friends sister!reader (smut)

summary: james develops a strange feeling for sirius’ sister (reader) when she comes to london once her job required her to move. he first off thought she was a shitty person, an awful one with an awfully pretty face. so when sirius offers for her to stay in their loft until she finds an apartment, he decides he’s going to make her want to get out of there as fast as possible, until he wants her to stay more than anything in this whole world.

a/n: omg im so sorry this took so long, i tried my best w this one. also, english isn’t my first language so sorry for any mistakes. inspired by i can see you - taylor swift

warnings: mdni. smut with plot, afab!reader, use of she/her pronouns in reference to reader, use of y/n (I AM SORRY), afab!reader, being shorter than james, muggle & modern day!au, chef!peter, ships included (dorlene, marylily, wolfstar), swearing, cuddling, mentions of alcohol and drinking, a lot of physical touch, kind of public??, kissing, praise, v soft dom!james, fingering, oral (m receiving), light choking, size kink??, penetration, unprotected (don’t do this please), overstimulation

for the past two years, you started to have weekly calls with your brother, to update him on your life and know what’s happening on his.

you got transferred to london because of your job, you couldn’t find any apartments online and you were supposed to move the other week, being really desperate you told him about it, hoping he knew a real estate agent or something like that, but you were incredibly caught by surprise with his answer.

“thats such nonsense, you should just stay in my empty room until you find another place.” sirius said, his phone on speaker as he made a sandwich in the kitchen. james eyed him with a confused look on his face, but sirius decided to ignore it.

“really?” you ask, hopeful, you really could take a break from looking for apartments.

“of course. i mean, remus has practically moved into my room, so we just need to take some stuff of his out, but yeah, its no big deal.” james couldn’t help but look at him like he was crazy, remus’ room was right next to his, hell, remus’ room had a bathroom adjoined to his. james was starting to feel faint.

as soon as sirius got off the phone with you, he started blabbing.

“what the fuck, sirius?!” james said loudly, sirius sighed, putting his sandwich harshly on the plate.

“what now? i’m really just trying to eat here”

“your sister? really?” he looked like he was about to faint.

“she’ll pitch in on the rent, don’t worry about that” your brother tried to get him calm.

“oh please, i dont care about that! you know how i feel about sharing spaces” he was getting stressed, he couldn’t help it. “and you know how i feel about your family, i have been telling you to be more careful these past years but you don’t listen at all!”

it really had to be remus’s room? couldn’t peter just switch rooms and lend her his instead?

“she’s not like my parents, and neither is regulus, they didn’t do anything” sirius paused, “do your best friend a favor, will you?” and he knew he was going to.

“she’s not messy or nosy or anything like that, right?” james asked, giving into it fully.

“please, shes a cleaning freak, she’s worse than my mother” he paused. “that’s an exaggeration but she’s not messy at all, i swear. you wont even notice she’s around.” james doubted that, but he knew how much sirius missed his siblings, and he knew how fond sirius was of you.

james swore to himself he was going to get you to leave either way, he didn’t want you there and he didn’t care if he had to pay more rent because of it. he didn’t like you, he never did. even in school, before the whole sirius moving out thing, he felt weird around you. and he remembered that feeling very well, even if it was many years before, he didn’t feel like he could forget.

-

your moving truck arrived at the building a few hours before you, but when you got there, sirius had already arranged your furniture, which did make you a bit emotional. he had even bought a toothbrush, carefully arranging it in the right side of the cabinet, the side that pointed towards the door of the bathroom that led to your room.

the boys came to pick you up at the train station, you recognized them from sirius’ social media. they were everywhere.

you were extremely confused on why all of them had come and pick you up, you were hoping to see your brother standing awkwardly, instead he was there with all of his roommates. you felt like you were a teenage girl again, trying to talk to your brother during lunch, but his friends were always around.

you recognized remus from the photos he sent you, and peter was always on the background of your calls with him baking something.

and then there was james.

james potter. you didn’t know how to feel about him anymore. when your brother first introduced you, you found him attractive, but then you hated him.

when your brother ran away to his home you couldn’t help but hate him.

sure, your house wasn’t the best place in the world, but he took away your older brother, how were you supposed to feel?

as time passed you started to tolerate his presence. now you really don’t care about him, but he sure looked better than he usually did many years before.

-

you felt like you could kill him.

after living with james for a month you found him obnoxious, rude, annoying and a few other things you were too lazy to mention.

but the thing you hated the most was how invasive he could be.

you barged into his room, he was laying there, crumbs all over his red shirt.

"you should learn how to knock" he rolled his eyes when he said it, your brows furrowed.

"you ate my brownies." you had baked a few because it was bring your kid to work day and you were in charge of the snacks.

“they were really good, i thought peter made them” james paused. “he runs a restaurant downtown, you know, he’s always baking and-“

“i’m gonna have to make a whole new batch. you ate like ten of them.” you were about to get a really bad headache depending on his answer.

“i told you, they were really good.”

if you were in a cartoon you would’ve turn red and there would be smoke coming out of your nostrils and your ears. you had no comment.

you hated when he did that, just compliment you so you couldn’t really hate him that much anymore.

he used your shampoo, but it smelled really nice.

he ate your leftovers, but you really know how to order chinese food.

he even wore one of your biggest shirts you bought when you were in college because you were too lazy to buy pijamas and suddenly that shirt was really nice, because, sure, james potter actually listened to avril lavigne.

he even shrunk one of your favorite sundresses, you almost cried that day and he never even apologized.

the list went on and on, and somehow, every compliment of his sounded like he was taunting you, making fun of you right in front of your face and all you could ever do was thank him.

maybe that’s just how you were, polite no matter what. but you sure didn’t want to be polite to james that day.

“no, you don’t get to do that” you felt like you were being crazy.

“what do you mean?” he chuckled. he so did not chuckle.

“you don’t get to compliment me! that doesn’t bring my brownies back!” the word brownie sure sounded stupid in that moment.

“i’ll bake more for you, but they’ll suck, you know that” he actually sat on the bed to argue, how kind of him.

“the kids will probably die if they eat your brownies.”

“you’re feeding children? where do you even work?” he looked so confused and you kept getting angrier.

“do i really look like the kind of person who would eat a hundred billion thousand brownies? god, james, why can’t you just not touch my shit?”

“that’s not even a real number and there were a lot of them! i thought it wouldn’t make a difference!”

“it wouldn’t, if you had eaten one or two, but you ate half of them!”

“oh please, lets put it to a maximum of 25%, alright?” you felt like you were going absolutely insane. he was probably going to get you in a mental hospital and you’d be walking around, looking half dead, murmuring ‘brownies brownies brownies, i want my brownies back’.

you decided to just give up, slamming the door the hardest you could while heading out.

-

as halloween came around, the bickering with james stopped, you didn’t quite know if it was because of the season or you just got used to each other, but you didn’t mind it much. he could be very exhausting when upset, and you were sure you could too.

you loved fall, maybe it was that you were in a great mood. pumpkin flavored stuff, candles and everything else included.

on the day before halloween, you woke up early, you had to go apartment hunting and once you got back you would try and help peter make deserts. even though your ghost shaped cookies look like very sick jellyfish, you wanted to help. it was the most you could do, you weren’t paying rent, sirius wouldn’t let you. and they were going to throw a party on the next day so you wanted to help them get everything settled.

when you got home you were so incredibly tired, you had spent all day out and it was already 9pm. you had to walk so much you felt like you were your feet would fall off because they were used more on that day than they were your entire life. you were more upset you didn’t get to help with the food though, the pain didn’t really matter that much compared to that.

you just wanted to lay on your bed, put your feet up and-

giggles.

there were giggles coming from your room.

and then you remembered it, the neighbors, a few girls that went to the same school as you and were very good friends with your brother were staying over. a big slumber party of some sort, you and james were sleeping in the living room, because, of course, the four girls formed two couples and they would sleep together separately. no actual bed for you tonight! you really liked them though, so you couldn’t complain.

you knocked on the door to your own room and marlene opened it, cheeks flushed, and you could see dorcas on your bed, doing something on her phone.

“hi, lene” you decided to call her that because sirius called her that, it was cute. “sorry for bothering you both, i just wanted to get my pillow, my blanket and change real quick”

“oh sure, come in” she opened the door and you went straight for the drawer under the bed, grabbing a light green heavy one, you usually used that on winter but it was a cold night and you didn’t really want to bother them by taking your usual one from off the bed.

you never changed clothes so fast, tossing them in the laundry bin along with a shit ton of james’ shirts that were on his side of the sink.

“thank you, have a nice night”

you sighed while going to the living room, to find james sitting on the armchair, shirtless and wearing sweatpants, drinking a beer and watching that 70s show (again). you decided to ignore how good he looked and just get some rest because you really didn’t want go think about james in that moment, or ever as a matter of fact.

you lay down on the couch and throw the blanket over your head.

“you know what bums me out about this show?” james says abruptly, like you would really like to know. you grunt, waiting for his answer. “they really didn’t know when to stop it, its only good until what? season-“

“james, im really tired, i just wanna get some rest, please” you get out from under the covers to say that, so he ignores it fully.

“how did apartment hunting go?” he asks, pausing the episode and asking alexa to turn on some playlist with songs a sad dad would listen to.

“shitty, theres not one good place up for rent in this city, its actually sick”

“yeah, thats tough” he pauses for a brief moment “come here” he said, patting his knee. was he asking you to sit on his lap? was he going fucking crazy?

“i’m sorry, what?” you were so confused, since when was he like that to you?

“get up, sit here with me a little.” were you dreaming? was this one of those weird wet dreams you had in high school?

“james, i’m really tired, my back hurts and i really want to lay-“

“i’ll give you a massage, it’s whatever” he answered, a sad puppy look on his face.

you gave in. you walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, but he pulled you onto his lap.

“i need to be close to you, if i’m not it’s really awkward and uncomfortable.” some song you didn’t know was playing.

it was slow and sounded old, you didn’t recognize it.

“james come on, im really tired.” you say, smiling though, you didn’t know why he was doing this. he must’ve had an awfully good day.

“just for a bit.” why were his hands on your waist? why were you nervous. you nodded, you felt that if you opened your mouth to speak, nothing would come out.

you could feel his breathing on your neck, his hands roaming your waist as he lead them up to your shoulders.

his hands were on the low of your back, under your shirt. that was certainly new, and that was really not a massage, but you weren’t complaining.

you looked back at him, wide eyed, what was he doing?

once you turned your face to look at him, you couldn’t look away anymore.

maybe it was how nice he looked in the paused lighting of the tv, maybe it was how warm he felt, when the weather was so chilly recently, whatever it was, it hooked you.

he was looking straight into your eyes and you felt so open to him, it was weird to see him like this.

you felt like you were back in school being head over heels for your brother's best friend.

you heard keys jingling outside, so you stepped away, leaving him sat by himself wondering what he did wrong. sirius opened the door abruptly, scaring james, who looked at him confused.

“sorry, mate, the door was … hey! is that my instrumental playlist?” james turned a bit pink.

“yeah, I was just...” he looked at you. “forget it.” he turned it off. you were pretending to be unbothered, looking at something your phone.

you couldn’t quite wrap your mind around what had just happened.

you unfolded the sofa into a bed, getting comfortable on the right side, but then you felt his eyes back on you as sirius went into his own room.

“oh, sorry. do you want the couch? i can sleep on the chair, i don’t really-“

“we can share. don’t worry about it.” you nod at his comment. what had gotten into him? he turned off the lights, leaving the tv on. you were trying to calm down, sleeping in the same place as him, being nervous about it was so silly, but, still, you could feel your heartbeat.

“you wanna pick something?” he interrupted your thoughts, you didn’t want to watch anything. you wanted it to be over as soon as possible.

“no, you can just go back to your thing, i don’t mind it.” you answered. he laid down by your side.

fuck.

you were going to share the damn blanket.

he unpaused the tv, putting the remote on the right arm of the couch, that was your side. his arm went over you, he wrapped his arm around your waist once he went back to his side, though half of it was empty.

was he trying to spoon you? you could feel yourself getting nervous, your body starting to feel hot.

you (stupidly) decided to test his actual intentions with that, turning to your side to see if he’d pull you in, he quickly did.

you could have died right there.

he had never even hugged you before, was he really horny or something? and so you felt it.

‘oh my god.’ you thought to yourself repeatedly.

you felt his hand on your waist, pulling you closer to him, which was basically impossible with your ass already glued to his crotch.

you ended up sleeping like that, waking up in the morning to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen.

the day was fine, and you found out you and James had a lot in common, you ended up talking the entire evening, he spent the whole party next to you.

you slept in separate rooms at night, but you still spent a while with him in his room talking about all sorts of things. you never imagined how you and james could be alike. you never imagined how could be so sweet, funny and nice.

after the fall holidays you and james became closer and closer, when labor day came up you realized how much you liked him and when thanksgiving came around, you realized how you might actually be falling for him.

he didn’t help with that at all. he was always touching you, you even ended up cuddling when you would watch some awful movie in his room.

you never really got if he liked you as a friend or he wanted something more, until christmas.

you carefully placed your gifts under the tree on christmas eve, so in the morning when you saw a little box with your name on it, you were incredibly excited.

everyone was sat on the living room floor, opening gifts. in the little box was an envelope and it was from all of the guys. there was something written in the paper inside but you didn’t want read it in the moment.

“thanks” you smiled, but you didn’t quite know what it meant.

“we all talked and we want you to put your name on the lease.” sirius said quickly, looking at you anxiously.

“like, actually?” you ask, starting to feel extremely happy because you loved living with them.

“yeah” remus answered, smiling.

“thanks, i really appreciate it.” you couldn’t stop smiling, it felt great to know they wanted you there. james, who was sat next to you, gave you a one arm hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“so you’re gonna let me pay rent now?” you ask to your brother, smiling.

“i guess so.” he replied. you knew he was happy too. “gonna get you an actual gift though”

they were planning a big christmas party, they invited some people from work, the girls and some other people you didn’t really know, so you were expecting to spend the night with james. you went all out, put on your favorite red dress which was short but still fancy for the event.

once you were ready, half of the party was already there, including all of james’ coworkers and friends. you sat next to him on the couch, they were all there all talking about something from his work you didn’t really understand.

they were all dressed up too, but what shocked you the most was that james was wearing a suit, sure, his necktie was already loose and the buttons on his shirt too, but he looked amazing.

“can i stay with you fot the rest of the night? i don’t really know anyone here.” you whispered into his ear, nervous about the answer.

“sure” he nodded. “hey, henry” he called for his coworker that was sitting on the couches arm.

“yeah?” the guy answered.

“this is y/n, the friend i was telling you about the other day.” james gestures to you. you can’t help but smile awkwardly and wonder what he said about you.

“oh, hi! pleasure to meet you.” he got up from his chair and shook your hand, smiling at james and nodding. what did that mean?

“pleasure to meet you too.” you smile at him.

“i’m just gonna get some drinks, i’ll ill be right back. do you want something?” james asked you.

“just a soda.” he gets up and heads to the kitchen.

“so, tell me, how are your brownies?” henry jokes, you look at him confused.

“good, i guess, but thats a biased opinion.” you answer, curious on how he knew about your brownies.

“you know, james talks about you all the time.” he comments, you were sure he already had a few drinks.

“really? what does he say?”

“when you first moved in he hated you, you know? he always said it was fun to make you mad and all. but since october he’s been so nice when he talks about you, i personally think he fancies you, but i wouldn’t know. i don’t think he’d tell me if he did, specially because you’re his friends sister and all.” he was rambling but you really enjoyed the part he said about james seeing you as more than a friend, you enjoyed it so much you didn’t even pay attention to what he said after that.

“i doubt it, we just turned into good friends, that’s all.”

“nah, i think he wants to make you into something else.” henry might’ve just made your entire night with that phrase. you couldn’t hide your smile anymore.

“here’s your soda, a beer for you, henry” james handed the drinks and took a sip of his coke. you sat next to him, holding your soda in both of your hands, looking down at it nervously. “did something happen?” he asked you.

“no, just thinking ���bout something” you answer, looking into his eyes now. he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist. that makes you so flustered, you feel your entire body getting warmer and that’s just the start of it.

for the rest of the night, he stayed by your side. his hand resting on your waist, thigh, around your shoulders, wherever he wanted them. you could feel your heart beating in your chest for most of the time. he had never done that before, not in public and surely not like that, not in a sexual manner, at least that’s how you identified it, because one thing was a friendly touch, the other was what he was doing.

he made you feel needy, aching for more - he was making you want him.

did he notice? did he ever even perceive how he made you feel? how could he not?

goosebumps covered you once he grazed your thigh for the first time out of five, the fifth was when he finally let his hand stay put there.

it made you feel crazy, it really did.

you didn’t know if he meant it as you took it, but you really hoped he did.

the party was still going around 1am, james had disappeared and you were left sitting on the couch, waiting for him to come back.

you couldn’t stop thinking about him and it made you feel kind of silly. you were a bit disappointed that nothing happened but you sort of expected it. you knew nothing would actually occur, but still, it made you a bit sad. maybe the touch lead you on, but it-

you looked at your phone once it vibrated and you felt the absolute need to scream because of how excited the text made you, but you didn’t.

‘James: come to my room once you read this, please.’

you didn’t think much of it, though you would’ve come if he just asked you to like he normally did.

you finished your drink and knocked on his door. he opened it but didn’t look at you, his eyes were focused on your knees, he looked nervous.he was still wearing his pants and the dress shirt, except it was unbuttoned. shit.

“y/n?” he was looking at you now.

fuck.

“yeah?”

“you look really good tonight.”

“i clean up nice sometimes.” you smile.

“oh please, you always look good” he turned a bit pink once he said it. “and thats a really nice dress” his voice was low when he said it, was he actually hitting on you?

“thank you” you whispered, you couldn’t help but feel anxious as his body got closer to yours.

“you know, i’ve been thinking about something for a while now” he says. you could feel your stomach start to twist and turn because you were so anxious on what he was doing next. you hummed, making sure he would continue what he was saying, but he didn’t.

he just kissed you like it was the easiest thing in the world. he pulled you into his room and closed the door, locking it quickly.

the feeling of his lips on yours was something you craved for a while now, you needed it so much you started to wonder if it was normal for you to need something this much.

you couldn’t stop once it started. his hands were on your hips and you tugged onto his hair desperately.

kissing him is redefining the whole concept of kissing to you, and probably ruining every other sexual experience you could have for the rest of your life.

he pushed you into the door, his hands now on your ass.

“shit” he let out quickly as he stopped kissing you so roughly and started giving you quick pecks. “you have no idea for how long i wanted to do this.” you hummed. “you’re so fucking hot, it makes me crazy.” the praise was making your stomach twist again, a wet spot being formed between your legs.

he carried you with your legs around his body and took you to his bed. the same bed you have used to lay down to watch movies, to just gossip or discuss things, to do whatever.

he sat down and kept you on his lap, straddling him, but you needed more. as he kissed you roughly and messily you would casually rock your hips, causing friction. after you did that a few times he laid you down on the bed, telling you to stop being such a tease, he got on top of you, supporting himself with his knees, one of them between your legs, causing friction and making you more aroused.

when he started playing with the strings that held the dress together, you knew you were done for, so you let him undo the bow, kissing your neck. he was messy, sometimes he would bite and it would send bolts of electricity down your spine.

“james…” you let out as he bit you again.

“tell me” he said, trailing his kisses down to your clavicle. “can i take this off too?” he asked, playing with your bra. you nodded but he didn’t move an inch.

“i need to hear you say it. can i take this off?” he was such a fucking tease, it made you go crazy. he loved to hear your voice, he knew you wanted him to take it off, he just liked to hear you say it.

“yes, please” you struggled to hold in a moan once he started sucking on your neck.

“thank you” he answered, looking back to the hickey he gave you. “hmm, that’s gonna leave a mark, sorry baby” baby? he had never called you that, you hummed as he took off his collared shirt and then proceeded to take off your bra . he groaned at the sight of you, which drove you mad. his growing bulge was exposed.

he was big.

you immediately regretted every single time you had made a small dick joke (sure, there were only 2 times but they did happen).

he was on his knees, towering over you.

“you’re so pretty”, he leaned down to kiss you again, this time more eager than ever. his right hand cupped your jaw as his left one roamed your body, making you ache for more and more. “i really wanna touch you” he whispered and went back to kissing you, his left hand now between your thighs, waiting for permission to move.

“please” you whisper, stopping the kiss briefly. he kept on kissing you as he stimulated you through the fabric of your underwear, but that didn't happen for long, specially because of how wet it was, he needed to touch you, he couldn't help himself. the dress was so hiked up it looked like a shirt, but instead of helping you take it off, he pulled it down a bit, so he had access to your chest. he immediately started kissing around your left tit, making you go absolutely insane. and that combined with the sudden touch to your clit? yeah, you were getting fucked up that night.

he was better than anyone had ever been to you. sucking in your nipple and fingering you slowly, he was making you go crazy, needing him more.

he stopped sucking on your nipple and went back to your neck, his hand not stopping at all. the right one went to cover your mouth as you moaned.

“be quiet, hm? want everyone to listen? don’t wanna stuff that pretty mouth of yours too” his non dominant hand went to your neck, choking you lightly as his other one fucked into you. you were so close to cumming, with his thumb stimulating your clit as his other fingers went in and out of you, he knew that you were close, specially with the way your pussy was tightening around him. “so fucking tight, aren’t you? can’t imagine how you’re gonna feel around my cock” he stopped and took his fingers out, making you whine, missing the feeling of him.

“jameees” you moan, finding the courage in you to pull him in, giving him a kiss.

“take it off”

“what?” you’re confused.

“the dress, i really wanna fuck you in it but i don’t wanna ruin it.” he lets out. “take it off” he sounded like he was ordering you, and you loved it so much, you wanted to give something back to him.

“i will, but can i suck you off first?” you ask, looking at him doe eyed, and how could he say no?

“you really want to?” he asks, furrowed brows, you nod, quickly getting on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, throwing it on the carpet. he got up and pulled his pants down, staying just in his boxers, he climbed back into bed with you, kissing you sweetly.

you were on your knees in front of him, pulling his cock out of his underwear, stroking it lightly then kissing the tip. you take him in your mouth, using your hands to stroke what couldn’t fit, which, frankly, was about a bigger portion of it. he was the biggest you ever had.

“fuck” he groaned at the movements you were making, using his left hand to get strands of hair out of your face, as his right one supported him on the bed. he was trying not to thrust into your mouth but you were making it so hard. “your mouth was made for me, baby” he whispered, looking into your eyes. his free hand went to your neck, choking you just a bit, as your head bobbed up and down, taking as much as possible.

“so good, your mouth feels so goddamn good honey” he groaned as he finished the sentence and you used your non dominant hand to cup his balls. he was moaning a bit and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen or heard, though you were sure you would see hotter things that same night. he started thrusting lightly, he couldn’t help himself, specially with how good your mouth made him feel.

“stop” he ordered you, and so you did, a pop sound being made as you stopped sucking and looked up at him.

“did i do something wrong?” you ask, brows furrowed. his hand hasn’t left your neck, and so he pulls you in by it. his tongue went straight in your mouth, he needed to taste him on your lips.

“i wanna fuck you” he said, looking into your eyes, waiting for any kind of response.

“yes. please do” you quickly say, kissing him quickly.

“the dress” he remembers and you quickly take it off, not stopping the staring for a second.

“want you down on all fours” he says, getting on his knees. you do as he commands, getting in an arch position as he’s on his knees behind you. he can see that you still haven’t taken off your underwear, he bites on your ass cheek and then pulls it down with his teeth.

“you don’t mind if i keep this, don’t you?” he asks, helping you take it off fully. “it’s already ruined”

“it’s yours” you look back at him, he’s smirking like the devil. he throws your underwear into his bedside drawer.

“gotta keep it safe” he whispers. you can feel his bulge through his boxers as he leans in to kiss your neck, you whine, needing him more.

“patience, i’m gonna give it to you, sweetheart” his right hand gave your ass a smack. “up” he said, signaling for you to arch your back even more. as you do so, he groans, pressing his covered member against your wet cunt.

“you’re so pretty like this, all for me?” he asked, using his hand to play with your clit.

“y-yes, all yours” you said, trying not to whine mid sentence.

“good girl. mine” he gave your shoulder a quick peck. “gonna put it in now, okay? tell me if you wanna stop” he took his dick from out of his boxers and pumped it a few times. you could’ve fainted once you felt his tip lined up to your entrance.

he went in slowly, he was way to big for you. every time you thought he was done, there would still be more of him left.

“jaaames” you would whine

“just a bit left; don’t worry, princess” once he was fully inside of you, you felt amazing, like you were in heaven. “you’re so fucking tight, ‘feels so good” he said, trying to to groan, his voice was raspy.

if took a few thrusts for you to get used to his size, but as soon as he picked up a pace, you were a mess. you couldn’t hold in your sounds, the way he was stimulating your clit was absolutely killing you.

“be fucking quiet” he demanded with a groan, “you want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?” he didn’t stop, he just went quicker as a matter of fact.

“fuck!” you squealed as he pinched your clit, his thrusts began to be more rough, you couldn’t even focus. you’re eyes kept rolling back, your mind was fully blank and the only thing that was coming out of your mouth in that moment was a mixture of james, fuck, shit and a few other curse words.

you were in ecstasy.

“you like this, don’t you?” he was grunting lowly in between every few thrusts. you were so close, you felt your high coming to you, the way he was fucking you was not helping with you trying to hold it.

“james ohmygod james, im gonna cum” you say, trying not to stumble over your words.

“ask nicely and i’ll let you” he said, stopping the stimulation on your clit and thrusting harder. he was close too, the way your tight pussy would clench around him was making him go insane.

“please let me cum, james. need it so bad” you blurted out in between whining and moaning. he grins and goes back to stimulating you.

“good girl, do it” he went faster and didn’t stop playing with your clit. your eyes rolled back and you let it go.

your walls clench tight around him, he didn’t stop as you made a mess all over his dick.

as you finished, his thrusts only got harder, you were feeling so overstimulated and you felt like he was close too.

“fuck, sweetheart. gonna cum inside you, that’s alright?” you moaned in answer.

his hips stuttered and you felt his cock twitch spilled inside of you, his juices mixing with yours.

he made sure he got rid of every single drop.

your legs were shaking as he pulled out and tucked himself back into his underwear, you collapsed on the bed and he laid down next to you.

“wanna go back to the party?” he jokes, looking into your eyes.

“shut up” you reply, looking at the ceiling of his room.

“gonna clean you up, okay?” james assured you as he threw you a shirt of his that was under the bed. you put it on but pulled him closer to you.

“okay, but just stay with me for a while if that’s alright.” you asked.

“always” he pressed a kiss onto your forehead and you knew that this was not going to be a one time thing.

[littlespoonevan]

i'll keep it all to myself

7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)

-

“Hey, killer.”

Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“

“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”

Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.

Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”

“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.

“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.

Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.

“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“

“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”

Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.

Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’

But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.

“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”

“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”

Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”

“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.

They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.

He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.

“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”

“Oh, so you guys talked?”

Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.

“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”

Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”

The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet.

He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.

It took him a while to forget about the exhausted child in front of him and how much he reminded him of his nephew.

*****

He attended one of the Hawkins High basketball games during Eddie’s first senior year, took the night off for it, even. Eddie was never one for sports, so the fact he agreed to play with his band during their halftime was something Wayne couldn’t pass up watching. It had to have meant something to his boy for him to even mention it, so he played the part of proud parent and sat through the first half of the game.

But when he saw Steve Harrington out there, he couldn’t help but check for those dark circles or the same exhausted slump he saw in a child much too young to show physical signs of exhaustion.

He appeared to be fine, though Wayne couldn’t help but notice how he kept searching the stands for something or someone during every pause in the game.

Wayne had a gut feeling he knew who he was searching for, and an even stronger one that he wouldn’t find them.

After the game and the show, Wayne helped Eddie pack his guitar and amp into the back of the van.

“Hey, you ever talk to that Harrington boy?”

Eddie’s face was answer enough.

*****

To know Eddie was alive wasn’t enough for Wayne, he needed to watch him breathing, watch his fingers twitch while he slept. He needed to know that Eddie was real, was safe, was right in front of him.

But apparently Steve Harrington needed the same reassurances.

Steve had been by Eddie’s side since they let visitors into the room. As far as Wayne knew, he’d only left once for an hour to visit that Max girl’s room.

He was hesitant to say anything beyond kind greetings and goodbyes when he had to head to work. Steve looked one second away from breaking down.

He held Eddie’s hand like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was for him. Whatever they’d been through was serious, proof of that being the injuries they both were dealing with and the fact that Eddie hadn’t opened his eyes yet.

As much as Wayne wanted explanations, he wanted Steve to find comfort in being with Eddie more.

The dark circles under his eyes remained.

Wayne watched the way Steve would stare at Eddie, wordlessly begging him to open his eyes, and wondered what had changed between them. Was it just the trauma of the situation or something else?

He’d known Eddie liked boys for years; hard to hide when you get caught sneaking out of the house to go to a “special” bar in Indianapolis on a school night. He hugged him, told him he loved him no matter what, and offered to drive him out there himself the next weekend he had off if he promised to not go alone on a school night.

But Steve didn’t seem the type. Wayne had learned how to spot them, mostly so he could protect Eddie, and Steve had never seemed like he’d strayed or even thought about straying from girls.

He shouldn’t assume, though.

He knew how Richard Harrington was.

So he sat silently, guarding the two boys who needed it most.

On the sixth day, Wayne asked a nurse if Steve had left the hospital at all.

“No. Poor boy’s been glued to his side. The doctor had to stitch him up in the room because he wouldn’t leave.”

“Stitch him up?”

“Oh, yes! He had a large wound on his side and his chest had a few areas that needed stitches. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his neck, but they prescribed him penicillin to try to prevent infection.”

Wayne shook his head. So Steve was a self-sacrificing idiot. Time to address that.

“Thanks, Janet. I owe ya a coffee for takin’ such good care of Eddie.”

Janet blushed. “Stop it! I’m just doing my job.”

Wayne smiled at her before making his way into Eddie’s room.

As usual, Steve was in a chair by his bed, hand in hand with Eddie.

The unusual part was that Steve was fast asleep, head nestled against Eddie’s leg.

It couldn’t be comfortable, but going off of how Steve had looked the day before, he was probably too tired to care about comfort.

Wayne looked at the scene in front of him.

Something else was different, too.

Eddie’d moved.

Only someone who’s been in this room for hours on end every day would have noticed it. Eddie’s head was turned towards Steve, and his other hand had found it’s way to Steve’s hair.

Oh.

So it was like that.

Wayne let out a shaky breath, too many emotions trying to escape at once. His boy had woken up, and had found comfort in someone who hadn’t left his side for almost a week. He couldn’t ask for more.

He slowly made his way out of the room, catching Janet just as she was passing to check on another patient.

“Did Eddie wake up?”

Janet’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Steve hasn’t come to get us. Why? Is everything alright?”

Wayne nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

She smiled at him and continued on her way.

Wayne smiled to himself as he made his way down to the cafeteria to get Steve some food.

It looked like Steve Harrington was finally getting some rest.

Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY TWO

in which eddie is honest. for real, this time.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, discussion of/allusions to smut from last chapter, angst, not edited (what's new though), upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 11.1k+

→ a/n: welp. this... yeah, this is a lot. i truly hope it's worth it. in the waiting, anticipation, and length. if it isn't... my bad. i'm sorry in advance. also, please note, pov change only applies to the memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

22:00 ──────────────ㅇ─ 24:00

His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”

—

HOUR TWENTY TWO – 1:00 PM

You can’t speak. It’s as if you’re frozen; every muscle, including your tongue, has gone rigid. Every racing thought escapes just beyond your reach. Every single one of the last twenty two hours pound behind your rib cage, and you think you might just faint. Right here, right now. The blood rushes your ears as your body goes ice cold, and even the railing cutting into your palm seems to drift away from you. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He doesn’t even try to deny it. He knows you heard what he said – he can’t take it back. It’s written plainly on his face that if he could, he would swallow back down those disastrous words. He’d grab that destruction four letter word right out of the air, no doubt, and set it aflame. He’d blow away the ash if he could guarantee you would have never heard it.

But he can’t. You heard him. 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

Everything is heavy. The air, your limbs, your godforsaken tongue. 

“Say something,” he suddenly begs. You’ve never seen Eddie look so desperate, eyes wet and voice cracking, “Anything.” 

You want to answer him. Your bones ache with the need – the need to reply, the need to question, the need to do anything but stare at him with what he must surely mistake for horror.

Were you horrified? Were you?

You don’t know. 

It’s why you can’t answer him. 

“I-” he starts up again, breaking down even further right before your eyes. You want to reach out, to coddle him, to tell him it’s fine. But it’s not fine. 

You don’t even get the chance to ruminate on just how not fine it is, or that heat beginning to come to a boil in the pit of your stomach, because the sound of one of the neighbors exiting out onto their own balcony interrupts the infinitely delicate moment. 

“Hey there, Eds-” You don’t know what actually interrupts the gruff man that steps out, who exudes familiarity with Eddie until he takes in the scene before him. 

Eddie, completely fucking naked. You, with only a shirt on. If it weren’t for the moment at hand and the trembling emotions coming to fruition inside of you, you’d probably find it comical. You’d probably find a way to join in the old man’s single guffaw before the two of you meet each other’s gaze and become aware of what exactly is happening.

But it’s not funny. You’re both fucking naked — physically and emotionally — and it’s not funny.

You’re mortified as both of you are scrambling across the balcony, a whirlwind of discarded clothes fisted and nearly tripping over each other to shove back into Eddie’s living room. That embarrassment now trickles down into the start of a boil, everything in you becoming red-hot from how flustered you’ve become and the way you can’t have a second to just process it all. 

When you turn to face Eddie once the sliding door has slammed shut, his cheeks are the brightest pink imaginable. 

“What the fuck,” you whisper out, trying to steady your breathing, trying to take it all in. 

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Your adrenaline is almost making you sick. 

“I’m so fucking sorry,” he catches your whisper amongst your stoic silence and seems to forget the moment that his neighbor had just shattered, voice clear as day as he pulls his curtains shut. You swear you catch the old man still staring, still laughing, and you’re just grateful that you’re not the one completely nude, “I had no idea Mr. Jenkins would come outside, usually none of those fuckers see the light of day before sundow-”

“Your neighbor just saw us naked,” you almost scream. You want to shout, want to throw everything in sight. You crave to flip that coffee table in the center of the room and throw a fit that outdoes even the most petulant of toddlers.

“I know, I-“

“If you say sorry again, I’m walking back out there,” you take a deep breath, but it does nothing to calm you’re shaking body, “And I’m throwing myself off the fucking balcony.”

Maybe you’ll be able to laugh about it in five years. A year, even. Hell, a month or as soon as next week. But you can’t right now; all you want to do is cry.

Some random man just saw you naked. Eddie apparently fucking loves you. 

It might be the sleep deprivation and it might be the fact that it feels like the Universe is laughing in your face at every turn right now. Whatever higher power exists seems to be waiting around every corner for the chance to kick you repeatedly as you stumble to this finish line. And you can’t fucking take it.

So you give in. You give in to that childish need to stomp your feet and scream until you’re blue in your lips.

“I just- Fuck!” Eddie jumps a bit at your exclamation, he’s still naked, “I can’t catch a break! I can’t catch a fucking break. First, I’m showing up here, and I’m stuck with you for twenty four hours. I’m stuck with the man I hate for a whole fucking day,” you’re full on pacing, not caring how ridiculous this scene would appear to anyone. Your hands wave erratically in the space around you, and all Eddie can do is stare, tense with wide eyes, “And I cry in front of you, have full breakdowns in front of you. I listen to you remind me over and over how much you truly despise only to now suddenly find out that, hey! I actually love you! And do I get to process that? No. Because now, some fucking old man that lives next door to you has seen my goddamn vag-“ 

Eddie’s entire demeanor collapses. “Oh, so now I’m back to being the man you hate?” 

You pause your ranting, realizing what you’ve said. 

You’re just angry. You should have thought before you spoke, before you opened your mouth and began to spew your venom, because you can see the way the words have struck Eddie. Not your intention.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“But you said that,” he flatly argues back. 

Your stomach twists.

“I’m just-“ your tongue is back to being heavy as the two of you face one another. Feet apart, worlds apart. “I’m fucking embarrassed, Eddie.” 

“You think I’m not?” he scowls, and you try to tell your racing heart it’s a good sign. But it’s not. You almost preferred his walls dividing the two of you, “Shit fucking happens. We got caught — we fucking dirty talked about getting caught! Big fucking deal! Karmic justice or whatever bullshit people spew. It doesn’t mean I’m going to- It doesn’t change-“ he’s stuttering now, matching that exasperation that had you pacing just moments before. He huffs, a hand reaching up and dragging his bangs upward, harsh at the root as he finally drops his hands in his own defeat, palms slapping his sides, “Everything changes. You said that, not me. You said everything changes, and all it takes is a little bit of fucking embarrassment to go back on your word?” 

He’s still fucking naked. You still can’t think.

“I’m not having this conversation with you naked,” you whisper, almost in disbelief as you shake your head, “I’m- Put your fucking clothes on. Please.” 

“Put my clothes on?” he scoffs, taking a step closer to you, “Put my clothes on? Do you mean the same clothes you just insisted I take off not even ten minutes ago?” 

“We were having sex!” you yell. You’re sure if the old man is no longer on his balcony, he can hear you through the walls. Hell, even if he is still outside, it’s likely he hears the screaming match beginning, “Why- Why are you turning this on me right now? You just said you fucking love me! The least of our issues right now is me telling you to get fucking dressed!” 

“Why are you lashing out at me right now?” Eddie’s voice is louder than yours, something more broken inside of it, “I-“

“Clothes,” you grit out, avoiding his eyes as you start to yank your panties on violently, “Now.” 

You can still feel him. His essence is dripping between your thighs. And you don’t find any sense of enjoyment in it, you don’t savor that quick-fading warmth nor the reminder of the pleasure he’d just brought you. It just reminds you of the words he had said all while not even looking you in the eyes. He couldn’t even face you as he had admitted it. 

One thing at a time, you try to remind yourself. One fucking thing at a time. 

Eddie’s own redressing is another sight that maybe, hopefully, one day you’ll look back on and laugh at. But right now, it can’t spark any amusement in you. Not as all your emotions slam back into you at full force.

You’re embarrassed. You’re confused. You’re angry.

“Happy?” he spits out once his boxers are on, shirt tugged back on so hard over his head that his curls frizz up.

“No,” your eyes are burning, and you feel it again. All those desperate emotions. Like a wild animal inside of you has begun to claw at your insides, making you bleed from the inside out. 

Eddie loves you — and he has, for a long time, apparently.  

Eddie’s neighbor has seen you naked. Saw your full bottom half exposed.

You’ve managed to hurt Eddie’s feelings, again.

Eddie fucking loves you and never thought to mention it. He has for a long time.

All your tempered strings snap, that wild and stricken thing inside of you finally cutting loose.

You don’t know what you’re angry at. You’re angry at him, and yet you’re not. You’re angry at the situation, and yet you’re not. You are bitter from words withheld and you are sour from every moment that paves the road that brought you two to this very moment.

You’re just angry.

“What did you mean?” the question comes out sharply enough to make his own defiant anger fade ever so slightly as he physically flinches, “I- I need to know what the Hell you meant, Eddie.” 

Anger is metallic on your tongue. It seeps from your skin, floods the air, only further dampens everything already so heavy. 

The longer he doesn’t answer you, the more smothering the entirety of the apartment becomes.

“Just tell me. Make it make sense, because right now?” you pause for a deep and shaky breath. Your eyesight is blurry now. Eyes red rimmed with tears that will surely sear your cheeks if they find the nerve to be shed, “Right now, I don’t get it. Over and over and over again, you have reminded me that you hate me. Prior to tonight, it was safe to assume that scorning my existence was one of your favorite pastimes. And I know, I get it — everything has changed. But- But-“ 

How can anything change if you weren’t honest to begin with? 

Did anything change for him? While you were discovering and tending to sore feelings that had been festering for a while but had never seen the light of day, was he only nursing an old wound? 

“But what?” his voice drops low. His entire demeanor has dropped, cowering down before you. His head dips down, his shoulders droop with prepared rejection, you watch the man before you, the man you had just let defile you and the man you had just worshiped on your goddamn knees, turn to dust.

A shaky gasp. Wobbly knees. The blood rushes through your ears again, flushing out any noise except the two of you breathing out of sync. His deep breaths, accepting and welcoming a rejection he was so sure he was receiving. Your shallow breaths, panting and rapid and trying to just get everything to slow the fuck down.

You were right. Once the tears shed, they burn a trail of Hellish fury right down the center of each cheek. “When I say everything has changed between us, what does that mean to you?” 

He’s undressing an old wound, an open slash that seems to be unable to form a scab. You’re pressing on bruises, aching parts of you that had purpled from his neglect long ago. It’s clear as day now — the difference.

You no longer care about the embarrassment of being caught.

“What do you want it to mean?” 

“Don’t do that,” the tears fall faster now. You can’t even begin to dig into this chasm of emotions. Are you angry at him? Are you disappointed by the circumstances? Do you love him? “I want an answer — I need your answer. You promised me your honesty, so give me it. Now.” 

His eyes meet yours, and your entire world seems to fold into itself, “It… doesn’t mean much. It doesn’t change much.” 

Everything has only changed for you. 

“So it means nothing, then? You have me at your disposal, you have me on my fucking knees for you, you tell me you fucking love me, and it all means nothing?” 

You’re twisting his words and you know it. But you can’t help it, can’t stop it. 

“I never said that!” his voice is no longer low and quiet. Sudden worry creases beside his eyes as his mouth goes slack in shock, “I never said it meant nothing.” 

“But it doesn’t mean much, right?” You hate your wet cheeks. You hate the way everything in you is somehow slow-breaking, yet suddenly shattering. An unnerving juxtaposition that is drowning you and sending you reeling over and over again, “It doesn’t change much, right? Because when I said that, Eddie, I meant it – everything fucking changed for me. It wasn’t- It’s not- This isn’t just some throwaway thing to me. Not even a day ago, I thought I had to hate you with everything I had. I thought I had to hate you.”

And I don’t. Not even a little bit. Even right now, when I should. 

“Is that what you think I’m saying?” his voice is low where your voice has risen, his face calm where yours has gone stormy. 

Where you’re on fire, he’s treading still waters. The opposite dilemma that has always existed, and the one you had the nerve to see as poetic. But water meeting flames is never poetic. It never ends well. You should have seen that coming from a mile away.

“What am I supposed to think?” you also quiet your tone to match his. You wonder if the neighbors really had heard a thing. You almost hope they had, that this argument is affecting someone else’s day the way it’s affecting you, “You’re standing here, and you’re telling me it doesn’t mean much, and-“

“It doesn’t change much,” he corrects, and you’re now the one flinching at the crack in his voice. “Not for me. Not when I-“

Not when I’ve loved you for so long.

He can’t even finish his own sentence.

“So what does it change?” you throw your hands out in exasperation, “If it doesn’t change much, what has it changed?” 

There it is again — his silence, your anger. 

“Is it not enough to just know it changes something?” 

If you were stupid, you’d take his tone as pleading. You’d mistake it for begging. But you can’t. For all your fury, you can’t believe that he’s actually stooped so low as to beg for you, especially after what he’s just said. Time and time again, you had repeatedly cracked yourself wide open for him, and he’d managed to rip your heart right out of your chest with such a simply yet damning statement. The most casually cruel bit of honesty he had offered you yet tonight: that nothing changes.

“We’re back to square one,” you choke out in realization, “I- Fuck. This entire time, you weren’t honest with me.” 

He opens his mouth quickly, and for a second you believe he’ll offer an explanation that can soothe over the ache. He’ll come up with an excuse that you can buy, he’ll explain himself in a way that proves you wrong, and the sweet oblivious bliss can return. 

“No,” he says instead after careful consideration, “I wasn’t honest with you.” 

Your tears are running rampant as you only nod slowly, pressing your lips together in defeat, “Awesome. Great,” you reach up, sniffling as you swipe at your nose, still silently quiet but no longer awarding him with any display of your rage, of your hurt, of anything but your acceptance, “No, really, that’s- Cool. Nothing changes. I get it.” 

I’ve loved you for so long. 

It didn’t make sense, but you don’t have it in you to dissect it any further. He had loved you the entire time, and still set out to make you bleed. His grand admission doesn’t change a single fucking thing. 

You don’t say another word as you grab your pair of jeans up into your fist, being sure to move slowly and not in the haste every nerve in your body calls for. You need to leave – you need out of this apartment, and you need to never see Eddie Munson again. It wouldn’t be a far leap from what your friends already deal with. If the friendships take blows of damage from it, so be it-

“Where are you going?” he asks, standing stiller than a statue as he watches you.

You grab your bag, “I’m leaving. The deal’s off. Or- I don’t know. Tell them the bet’s off-”

“The bet is not off-”

“It is,” you turn to him, absolutely frozen in your resolution, “It really, really is. You can even fucking lie to them if you want, I don’t care. Figure out a way to get the money but I don’t want it. I’m done.” 

“So that’s it?” he scoffs in disbelief. When you pull on your jeans, when you sling your bag back over your shoulder and begin to walk to the counter where your phone was left, he realizes that it’s really happening. He realizes you’re truly done, “No questions? I just told you I wasn’t fucking honest, and you’re just going to walk away, not even demand I tell the tru-”

“I’m tired of pulling the truth from you,” you finally move with some of the aggression you felt, hand smacking the counter beside your phone, “If you care so much, if you love me, I shouldn’t have to beg until my knees bleed for you to actually be honest with me,” you take your phone, shoving it into your back pocket before you look at him, “I can’t keep doing this. You were always right. They’re your friends. Congratulations, you got what you always said you wanted. You won’t have to deal with me anymore – consider this a farewell from your life. I’ll make sure no one invites you to my fucking funeral.” 

You assume he grabs you due to your cruel reference to his insult from the very beginning of the night, that he’s going to fight you for that bit of your oddly calm speech. But when his hands wrap around your bicep, and you face him with those silent tears still racing, what comes out of his mouth stuns you. 

“I’ll be honest,” he is pleading, he is begging, “Stay, and I’ll tell you everything. I don’t even fucking care about the bet — we can call off, everyone else can go to Hell. I don’t care about the money, I don’t care about the bet, I just-” he pauses, and you watch the desperation building taller and taller within him, “Stay and let me explain.”

You should tell him no. You should tell him to go to Hell. If you stay and hear him out, it will only end in pain for you. You should leave.

Instead, your bag begins to slip off your shoulder. 

“You have ten minutes,” you whisper as his hand finally releases its grip, “Explain.”

—

SIX MONTHS EARLIER - EDDIE’S POV

If he were smart, Eddie would’ve kept his word.

He’d told them he wasn’t showing up. He’d told them he had work (not a complete lie), and that he wouldn’t make it tonight. He just hadn’t felt like drinking anymore — not since two weeks prior, when he’d gotten black out drunk while hanging out with Nancy, throwing his own personal pity party. 

Pathetic.

It wasn’t just that killer headache that had been haunting Eddie since that night. It was much more than that; it was solid and palpable regret. He’d thrown back too many beers, mixed it with some sort of wine coolers that Nancy offered him once he started to feel the buzz. All it took was just a bit too much alcohol in his system, and suddenly, his rant that Nancy had agreed to indulge him in became so much more. One moment, he was just complaining about you. And the next, he was rambling, letting less harsh words slip between the complaints, more compliments than things he wanted you to change. One wine cooler in, and he was no longer complaining about the way everyone had been fawning over you after a full six months of friendship, but instead the way that your sad eyes and pouting lips following him around a room was cosmically unfair. 

He didn’t remember much of the rest of the night, and he was glad when Nancy had given him a pitiful look over the cups of coffee she offered. 

He’d told her. He knew he’d admitted his stupid, annoying, despicable crush on you to her. Probably whined about the way you and Harrington had clearly had something going on. Definitely spoke too much about how badly he wanted to experience your gentle hand in his calloused one, or to feel your arms wrap around his neck in greeting rather than daggers from your glare every time he entered a room. Hell, he’s sure there was a good thirty minute period amongst the fuzzy memories where he’d sat on the edge of tears as he continued to mumble about how he wasn’t good enough for you.

Nancy Wheeler, his best friend, finally knew. Six fucking months of keeping it under wraps, and Eddie Munson had finally slipped up.

And she clearly hasn’t forgotten as Eddie had prayed she would every single night as she’s the one to answer his knocks on Steve’s door, grinning with the hidden knowledge.

She’d texted him with one last plea for him to show up. Insisted everyone was here. Went so far as to make him a list, and made sure to add your name at the end. It had been phrased like an afterthought on the screen, but he knew her too well. He knew Nancy purposefully mentioned you.

“Munson! Finally! It took you long enough,” she squeals, clearly already halfway to drunk before she quiets down, “And you said you weren’t coming. Wonder what, or who, changed your mind.” 

“Fuck off.” 

It had been a bad day. Work, classes, a phone call with Wayne that had just left Eddie disheartened and terribly homesick. It was selfish, but the thought of seeing you in passing tonight, even if you did seem to dislike him just as he had intended, made it all a bit more bearable. 

Coming home. Seeing you felt like coming home, even if you’d slammed the front door on his face.

He follows Nancy down the hall, a pit growing in the bottom of his stomach, heavy as ever. He shouldn’t have even wanted to see you. The last time he had seen you, you’d been out for blood, blatantly ruining a date he’d managed to bag with Chrissy Cunningham. Chrissy, who never gave him the time of day in high school. Chrissy, who was clearly set on using him as a rebound during yet another break from Jason. Chrissy, who’s only flaw wasn't just the fact that she wasn’t you.

“Eddie, my man!” Argyle greets Eddie the moment he enters the living room. He’s lounging on the couch, Jonathan to his right and a space where Nancy clearly had occupied now empty. 

Eddie nods, still feeling the week weighing him down. No sight of you yet, “Hey, man.” 

He just wanted to see you. One glimpse, preferably before you’ve caught sight of him, and he’d be fine. He’d learned to live with those fleeting moments the last six months, he could keep it up for just a bit longer.

He’d get over you eventually. Even if it killed him.

He had to give his plan time to work. So far, he’d done well, easily offering you a cold shoulder and nothing more after that first night. It wasn’t easy — he doesn’t think anyone would find the task of being cool towards someone as radiant as you easy — but he’d done it. Brick by brick, his wall of invincibility was standing tall and strong between you two. It was safer this way, he had to remind himself. It was better to run off of brief glances of your smiles and laughter never directed at him than to risk anything more. He’d only disappoint you, or you’d magically disappoint him, and it would end in bloodshed. Someone like you, someone so good and kind and easy to gravitate towards, would leave Eddie broken beyond damage. 

You didn’t go for guys like Eddie. Steve had made that clear since day one.

Eddie takes the loveseat as Nancy returns to Jonathan’s side. He tries to make it subtle, the way he twists his head to glance around the room as he removes his jacket, eyes roaming until he finds you. In the kitchen, with Steve and Robin, tense back telling him you’d already noticed his arrival.

So much for seeing you smile.

He tries to keep up with the conversation going on. Argyle and Jonathan are having some sort of debate about aliens, nothing short of heated and passionate, and he’d normally be jumping in without hesitation. But his eyes can’t stop flickering to the kitchen and each time, he can see you downing even more alcohol. He knows you don’t like him, but did you hate him that much?

“You’re awfully quiet,” Nancy leans over to whisper as Jonathan grows in volume about another branch of a conspiracy theory.

“Just tired,” he flatly replies. He’s suddenly itching to get his hands onto some alcohol of his own. Fuck the lessons he should’ve learned a few weeks ago. Fuck his regret in confiding in Nancy.

“Was work rough?”

He hums pathetically in response, eyes glued to the kitchen still. To you.

Nancy’s eyes finally follow his focus, “Have you… I don’t know, ever tried just talking to her?”

He snaps from his daze at that, head turning quickly to Nancy, “I talk to her all the time.” 

“You do not.”

“I do too.”

“Never nicely,” she points out, narrowing her eyes, “You’re like a little boy on the playground, tugging on her pigtails until she figures it ou-“ 

“I don’t want her to figure it out,” he cuts off the assumption, eyes widening in horror at the thought, “Christ, Nance. I thought I made that clear when I ended up shitfaced on your couch.” 

Nancy softens. She can see what’s happening here, see every dampening thought that weighs Eddie down. He might not remember his drunken rambles, but she does. 

“The only thing you made clear is what a spectacular ass you’re making out of yourself,” her words hold no bite, only truth, “Who cares what Steve said that night? He was drunk.” 

“So was I,” Eddie’s eyes are back on you, palms running up his outer thighs until he curls them to fists by his hips, “I was drunk when I talked to you about her. Forget about it.” 

Surprisingly, his stubborn best friend leaves it be. Puts the pointless argument to rest.

Eddie’s feelings can’t rest, though. 

Every night, he tells himself it’ll all go away. The distance will make his heart grow harder, and he’ll eventually be able to wash himself of you one of these days. And every night, all the feelings you’ve sprouted inside of him only teem their way higher, up into his throat and choking him with every last breath before he falls asleep. He can’t forget those first few weeks, the way you seemed to think his coldness was a phase. You’d tried so desperately to seek him out at every function, sparked so many failed conversations with him that left him to burn. Every smile you’d offered him during that time, he’d taken for granted.

Even last week, when you’d interrupted his date, he’d let himself relish in the memory of your attention. Pathetic. 

Had you been jealous? Had you just been spiteful, finally giving him a taste of his own medicine? He couldn’t decide, wouldn’t let himself linger on the reasoning. But he’d remembered your touch, could still feel it scarring his skin wherever your palm of fingertips had rested as you’d scared off Chrissy. He’d even hesitated in the shower that night, pausing for a moment before washing over the shoulder you’d gripped when you’d first approached their table and embarrassed him without care. 

He deserved your spite. 

And he deserves to have to overhear the conversation you’re currently having in the kitchen. You’re going on and on about all the men you’ve had dates with, detailing out every one night stand for Steve and Robin who listen with eager ears.

It makes his stomach churn and twist sharply. Each new man you bring to your roster makes his throat burn with jealousy, plain and simple. And he knows it written all over his face when Nancy leans over and puts a hand on his knee, giving him a concerned look. 

Even the change of topic between Argyle and Jonathan on goddamn Bigfoot can’t overtake the sharp cut of your bragging. 

“I’ve never seen your eyes so green, Eddie.” 

He’s about to snipe back that his eyes are brown, and be unnecessarily cruel from his sour mood, when he realizes what she means.

“I’m not jealous,” he lies through his teeth.

“You very much are.” 

He doesn’t have it in him to bicker back and forth about this again. Not about you, and not with Nancy, “What does it matter? Like I said, me and her? Never gonna happen.”

He had said that. He remembers that, at least, from his drunken confession. He’s sure he reiterated that point several times once he’d made it past the point of coherency. 

“She’s lying,” Nancy casually whispers, pulling her hand back, “She- Us girls talk, you know? Just… she’s lying.” 

“I went on a date with Chrissy. It doesn’t matter.” 

And she has no clue how fucking hung up on her I am. She’ll never know if I have anything to do with it.

“You can keep saying that,” Nancy glances, making sure their other two friends on the couch are still too deep in conversation to listen in, “But we both know that’s not true.” 

Unsurprising. Even if Nancy hadn’t listened to him cry that night about all his miserable yearning, all his unrequited feelings born out of a mess he got himself into, she would have known. Eddie has tried to guard himself when it comes to you, but there’s some times his leashed affection can’t help but seep out. 

Whenever you stumble on sidewalks beside him, his arms and hands are the first to fly out. Whenever the group has gone out to bars altogether, he watches you like a hawk, almost daring the men surrounding you to disrespect you. Whenever your birthday came around, he’d bought that damn gift card to his favorite coffee shop, all because he saw you frequent it twice. Although, to be fair, he’d made Harrington be the messenger there. He wouldn’t have been able to look you in your eye, wouldn’t have been able to put up the bitter persona on a day that should be special to you. He didn’t want to ruin your birthday, so he’d simply sat on the sidelines. Let everyone else go out and celebrate with you. Let everyone else pour enough affection into your cup, even when he wishes his own could have been the final drops to cause it to overfill. 

He had to tread carefully. It’d be too easy — to let himself pour out all these silly feelings and meaningless attraction. One wrong move, and he’d cause his own undoing. His own destruction. It doesn’t matter if it would be by your hand; he’d only have himself to blame at the end of the day.

He’s lost in thought, still itching for a drink, when Nancy is suddenly standing over him. “We’re going out for a smoke, you in?” 

He shakes his head numbly. His mind is far away now, getting lost in all that he’s done wrong, all that he can’t have. 

He’s homesick. He’s watched the way you’ve interacted with Robin and Steve the entire night, and he’s goddamn homesick for a home that he’ll never hold the keys to. 

“You sure, man?” Argyle asks him, wiggling his brows, “I brought the good shit.” 

Numbing his mind with drugs. It’s tempting.

“I’m good,” he reaffirms, still speaking in monotone. He doesn’t have the energy to put up a brave face, too focused on his heavy chest and that miserable pit in his gut still. 

And everyone leaves. He’s sure there’s something poetic for his stormy mind to pick up on there, as he watches his friends gather without him and exit to the outside, but he’s more focused on a miniscule detail.

You’re not with them.

Meaning you’re still in the kitchen.

And God, he really should know better. He should stay planted in his seat and he should sit in his misery until they all return. Only trouble can come from not doing so. But then his body moves to its own accord, fueled by something wickedly cruel and terribly homesick as he grabs one of the bottles of beer off the coffee table. It’s Nancy’s, he’s sure of it. Her lipstick stains the opposite side of the rim he takes a swig from. The beer has long since gone lukewarm, but beggars can’t be choosers. He clears his throat as the bitter lingers on his tongue.

He should know better.

But he doesn’t. He really, really doesn’t as he enters the kitchen. You’re on your phone as he stands in the doorway, and there’s no time to hide what you’d been glancing over.

A dating app.

You spin to face him, and he imagines a world where your eyes land on him and light up. Something akin to that first night, to those first few weeks. Where you look at him with purpose, and he sees relief flood your irises rather than irritation or fear. 

No such luck. He only has himself to blame.

He can’t think of anything else to say, so like an idiot, he gestures vaguely with the bottle of beer towards your phone, “Those apps fucking suck.” 

That jealousy is still gnawing at him. Hateful, painful, reckless. 

You look down at your phone for a second, and click to exit whatever messages you’d been on. And then you look back up at him.

“You’ve used them in the past?” you question him, but he’s still stuck on all the recounts of your escapades he’d overheard tonight. Whether or not they were true didn’t matter. All he sees when he closes his eyes is you, with other men. You, looking at someone else with purpose, relieved eyes awarded to someone more worthy.

He’s lucky he can choke out a short, “Nope,” and make it not sound strangled. 

“Okay,” your attention returns to your phone screen, and Eddie’s returns to his internal battle.

He’s jealous. So goddamn jealous it’s insufferable. It’s not your fault – he chose to push you away, he chose to lash out like a child for his own sanity and his own safety. You’d ruin him; you’ve already ruined him without even trying. If he gave up on the act, on this carefully thought out plan, he’d be beyond leftover rubble of a man. He’d be gone beyond recognition, reduced to ash and smoke. A nameless, forgotten whisper of dust that people would only point to and say, see? Look at that. That’s what becomes of you when you never learn. 

He’s pined enough in his lifetime after girls like you. Girls who were too good for him. He’d done it with Chrissy, and it was still causing him nothing but trouble. 

That burden didn’t hang over Chrissy, or over you. It was all Eddie’s own fault. Neither of you could help that he wasn’t good enough; it wasn’t either of your jobs to fix him or lower your standards for him. You’d even been kind, you’d even nearly fallen into that trap. 

It was for the better. All of it was for the better this way. 

And yet the jealousy remains. The anger still thrives between his ribs, and begs for release. 

“Why are you even still on them?” he should think over his words more carefully as they begin to roll off his tongues. He knows he’s in the wrong before he even continues, “I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.” 

Each word is sharpened so intentionally, glinting from raking against that anger inside of him. You don’t deserve their prick. Really, he should just be comforting you the way the others do – how Robin surely was, how Steve must be. 

But it’s part of the plan. So he tampers down the jealousy and he feeds into the anger, lets it consume him. Because making you hate him is easier than letting you like him. It’s easier to watch the one you can’t have sneer at you like the enemy than let them smile at you like you’re just a friend. 

“I-” you falter in your words, and he decides to straighten his back, takes a deep breath as he slips the mask on effortlessly. He hates how easy it’s become. He hates how quickly he turns everything with you into a fight, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.” 

Sometimes, it’s like a game. And he can pretend that your hatred, your distaste, is also all a facade. Like the both of you are two sides of the same coin. A playful banter rather than an actual argument between two people who can’t even call themselves friends. When he looks at it like that, blinded by his delusion, it makes the ache dull. Sends it away for a few fleeting seconds, convinces himself he really can carry on this way. 

“You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all, tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the boy count you’ve got there, player,” he forces a grin as he leans on the counter, watching his words get under your skin exactly as he had intended. 

You’re cute like this. Clearly drunk, getting flustered. He revels in the way your face physically scrunches in annoyance, the way he can watch you gear up to fight fire with fire. A sick, twisted game of cat and mouse that always can entertain him in the moment and haunt him at night. 

“You’re bluffing. You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”

He wonders, for a second, if you’d caught him staring at any point. He wonders if you’d even care.

“We could.”

“No, you couldn’t.”

“Yes, we could.”

“You’re lying.” 

You cross your arms, and he can’t help but watch the way they push your chest up. He can’t help but ponder on how much better it would all feel if this were really playful banter. 

He has to refrain from physically shaking the thought from his mind. 

It’s for the better. 

He narrows his eyes, he grips onto the anger again, that hidden jealousy. He should know better. He should stop it. The words even feel heavy on his tongue, terribly forced. Because his anger isn’t at you. 

“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” and oh, how ironic, for the liar to be calling out someone’s little white lies, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up,” the words come out a bit easier when imagines the barrel of the gun pointed at himself, as if he were speaking so casually cruelly into a mirror rather than at you, “Everyone strikes ou-”

He’s clearly struck a nerve. And it aches, but he reminds himself that that’s the point. That’s his goal.

 “I’m pathetic? Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.” 

He wasn’t trying to avoid you. He was trying to avoid Nancy after his entire drunken confession fiasco. 

“I did!” he continues to lie. Even with no one to show for, he piles up his lies high. Buries himself beneath them, beneath his pathetic act and worthless reasons. It’s probably for the best that you had assumed that he was avoiding you. 

“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.” 

The act cracks for a moment as he freezes. Why did you know about his apartment’s pet policy? 

“How do you know that?”

It can’t be because you care, or even get curious about him. He’s done everything in his power to cause the exact opposite, to make you be repulsed by him and to run the other way if you can help it. 

“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” He doesn’t even react to the roll of your eyes, unable to get riled up as he usually would at that. It clicks for him; it makes sense, because Nancy had stormed down his door not even a day later, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.” 

Eddie does feel guilty about that. He doesn’t mean for his own self-destructive behavior to leach out to his friends, or even you. His goal has always been to make it so that when he’s not around, he’s not even an afterthought to you. But selfishly, part of him preens at the idea of you being reminded of him, of you thinking of him when he’s not in the room with you. It’s a conundrum. It’s almost deadlier than his other option. 

“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” he grumbles like a damn child, almost pouting in his guilt. There’s another selfish sliver of him that’s also upset at that – upset at the fact everyone else gets to bloom with your friendship and positive attention, but not him. Once again, it’s his own doing. He really shouldn’t be angry at you about it. 

“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.” 

Times like these make him want to give it all up. He has to physically tense his body, tick his jaw and bite his tongue to avoid throwing the entire act to the side. He wants nothing more than to grab you by your shoulders and shake you, scream that sometimes it is your fault. But you don’t know it – you can’t read his mind, see past his intentions. 

You don’t know what Steve had so generously reminded him of that very first night. 

“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice is devoid of all emotion despite the storm brewing inside of him. He can’t even blame it on alcohol – he wishes he could, but his tolerance to beer can handle the single sip he’s taken. He crosses his arms, wrapping them around his body, trying to protect that terrible vulnerability only he’s aware of. When your position mirrors his, he wonders for a moment if you’re also feeling it. 

But you’ve been drinking. This entire conversation, every emotion, can be blamed on that. You’re luckier than Eddie. 

“I’m not lying.”

“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment.” 

He lets a reaction at his own irony slip through for a brief second, eyebrows furrowing as the voice inside him screams hypocrite! Hypocrite! Hypocrite!

He wishes he could pretend to be oblivious to why he can’t stop bringing Steve up, but he knows better. He can bury the jealousy alive, but it still bites all the same. 

“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going? We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?” 

We aren’t exactly friends. 

He should relish that confirmation that his plan is working, that you truly don’t see him as a friend, but it just fucking stings. He swallows hard physically, as if it can help him swallow down the truth any better, but it does nothing for him. The truth only continues to choke him up. His tongue has momentarily frozen over in his mouth as he tries to push past the painful reminder and wrap up this conversation. He feels it, that sharp burn of an unattended wound, and he realizes at the wrong moment that whether or not he keeps you at an arm's length, bloodshed will always occur. 

At least this way, he tells himself it’s protecting himself. This way, the knife isn’t pointed at his own heart. 

“You’re right. We aren’t friends,” the words are poison on his tongue. They taste of dirt and rust, like a grave that screams to be dug up but he has no shovel. He’d tossed it once he’d sealed the tomb, like a fool, “But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?” 

At least he wasn’t lying to you for a brief moment. Nance had told him. He’d throw you that bone, at least. 

“Well-” and with your own pause, you seemingly return the favor. You’re handing him yet another opportunity on a silver platter; exposing an insecurity that he should let live and let die, but he won’t for the sake of the wall he has bled to put up between you two, “You say that as if Nancy and I aren’t friends.” 

“Are you?” 

He’ll regret that taunt for the rest of his days. Two simple words, and he’s damned himself. The conversation that follows, about Instagram and followers and social standards of friendship, doesn’t even matter to him. It’s just a routine. Constant knives, clashing swords of words, lie after lie piling up with the bile in his throat as he shoots for kills. He hands over reason after reason for you to resent him, and makes sure that each punch lands. Ignores the ache, the one billowing in his knuckles as if each subtle insult he tosses your way doesn’t bruise his innards all the same way. By the end of the back and forth, it should be enough, for both of you. He’s accomplished the same thing he always sets out to do with every conversation: he pisses you off, putting another inch in that stretch between you two. 

But then you turn your back on him. And he deserves it. God, he deserves it. But he’s still full of bad ideas tonight, the awfulness of the last few days still suffocating him, and so he makes another decision to regret. He walks up behind you.

You open your phone, and he sees it. You’re on the dating app again, and the screen flashes with the face of your latest contender. 

He knows that face. He schools his face to remain even, but he fucking knows that face. 

The bartender at his local haunt. The only other person besides Nancy who had ever seen Eddie so miserable over you. He had been drinking alone that night, and the whiskey had him pouring out his guts to the poor guy. Slurred words of the girl who had slipped between his fingers, of the one who got away, of you. 

And that same bartender had been the one to sympathize with Eddie, claiming he understood. That he knew that feeling – dating around and doing anything in your power to get the girl you truly want off your mind. He said he had one of his own. He’d told Eddie that his pain-riddled speeches helped him make up his mind, that he was going to go after the girl he really wanted, that Eddie should do the same. 

Was this bartender your ex-boyfriend? Had the two of them been discussing the exact same girl?

Bad decisions. Over, and over, and over. It all comes to a rise within Eddie – not just the anger, but the jealousy and the hurt and the goddamn envy of the man on the screen. He hates the bartender, he hates himself, he hates the world at this point.

He tells himself he should add you to that list. But he doesn’t. He can’t. 

And it all spirals out of control before he can prove that to himself. Words grow sharper, small kindles of tension between the two of you finally explode to full blown flames, and he’s suddenly saying things he doesn’t mean. Things he’ll linger on for the days and weeks, the months to come. 

“You’re so dense, you never realize that you’re not wanted, Not by those assholes, not here-” 

He’s mid-lie, one finger on the trigger of the gun he assumed was aimed at his own chest, when it finally happens. A snap within both of you. Timed perfectly with the glass that shatters against the wall beside his head. 

Eddie learns two things that night. 

One, half of his plan worked. He’s succeeded. You hated Eddie Munson’s guts, and instead of him being content in his success, he’s sick to his stomach. It doesn’t bandage the wound inside of him, doesn’t pack away cotton nor cauterize the bleeding. It only worsens it. Widens it, impossibly so. He swears shards of that broken glass fly right into his unsuspecting chest, even if Nancy doesn’t find a trace on him when she comes back inside to see the aftermath. You hate him, he’s proven his point. He has proven himself to be the worst possible version of himself, the most unlovable man he had always seen in the mirror now residing in him staunchly enough that every single one of his friends sees it. 

He’d done it. He’d diminished any chance he had ever held of being friends with you. And he thought that, without a doubt, that meant he’d diminished any disastrous chance of letting you close enough to risk the chance of any more of his feelings getting involved. He thought it would have meant that he’d done it – he’d protected himself, and in some sick twisted way you, from inevitable bloodshed. 

But blood had still been shed. Even if his friends were only cleaning up broken glass in the kitchen, he could still see the stain of red across the floor and walls from you and him. He was bleeding out for you, but he had just driven the knife in deep enough that you would never return the feeling. There was no world where you would be bleeding out for him, only because of him. 

The second revelation comes a bit later in the night.

Closer to midnight, hours after the fight, when Eddie finds himself alone as per usual. He stumbles to his usual bar, thankful for the late hours, fully prepared to get so fucking wasted he can’t remember his own name. He’d wish to not remember your face, especially when he had spewed such hateful intent your way, but he knows there’s not a single brand or amount of whiskey out there that can cleanse him of that. Your name is just another ghost to add to the lineup. You’ll haunt him until his dying day. And he deserves that. 

But then, when he walks into the bar, he sees the bartender. 

The same man who had stood you up just the night before. The same man Eddie simply couldn’t understand. He was clearly on a date, a nice girl sat at the table across from him, laughing at every word he said. Eddie remembers their conversation, although a bit hazy. 

“I think you’re onto something, man. Some girls are just… irreplaceable. I’ve got a girl like that of my own – prettiest eyes you’ll ever see, a smile that could cure cancer – and… you know what? I think we should both go for it. Give up on the girls who could never compare.” 

He wants to vomit. The bastard had even poured a round of shots on the house, had fucking cheered with Eddie before throwing back the alcohol with him in the promise of moving onto the girls who matter. 

He had said cheers to discarding you. Brushing off you. To you being one of the girls who could never compare. 

Eddie’s vision goes red, and he knows half of the blame falls on himself. He’d been the reason this asshole stood you up. He had already been the reason for your pain tonight before he’d even said a word to you. His self hatred has never burned so deeply, so viciously.

But you can’t punch yourself. And so instead, Eddie doesn’t hold back when he approaches the table and lands his right knuckles right on the bastard’s cheek bone. Even goes in for a second punch. He would have gotten in a third punch, but the bartender hits back. Not as hard as Eddie, fists fueled by self-defense rather than ravaging guilt and crippling self-hatred, but enough to get deter him until security could gather both men up.

It’s in the alleyway that he has his second revelation. At the hands of the man who had just hurt you. It was like looking in a mirror. Eddie nearly does finally vomit as he leans against the brickwall, security a few paces away, ready to file a police report. But then, the bastard still manages to somehow be better than Eddie, throwing up a hand to stop them from dialing for the cops. 

“Don’t,” is all he says, leveling a stare when Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“Really?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow, pushing his luck. He needs someone to punish him. He needs to be thrown in a cell for the night, to be treated as the degenerate he truly was, “I just rearranged your fucking face and-”

“Why’d you punch me?” the bartender spits out some blood, nose crooked, “You- You’re a fucking regular, dude. How’d I piss in your cheerios?” 

Eddie’s feeling vulnerable. All his actual feelings boiling and burning in the back of his throat, begging to be released. He doesn’t need a drop of whiskey this time to be honest. 

“The girl,” Eddie rasps, tears threatening to spill as he pictures your face again, “I told you about the girl. The one no one else compared to.” 

The bartender’s eyes widen, “Jesus, fuc- are you telling me that we were talking about the same fucking girl? I- Vanessa told me she wasn’t seeing anyone else, I can’t believe she fucking lie-”

“Not her,” Fuck Vanessa, Eddie thinks bitterly, almost laughing. He has no right to say his next words, but he does, and they cause a pain worse than even the most nightmarish hangovers he’s ever experienced, “My girl is the one you stood up for her.”

You weren’t his girl. You never would be his girl. 

The bartender only looks more confused, and Eddie’s anger flares a bit more at the thought of him talking to more girls beyond you. The man before him had had everything Eddie wanted: he had had you. And just like Eddie, he had fucked it all up. It was easy to misdirect his anger in the moment. 

He says your name out loud, a searing iron in his throat that makes it come out garbled and strangled. Some recognition falls upon the man’s face. 

“Oh… her.” 

Eddie doesn’t hold back, “Her? That’s all you have to fucking say? You stood her up, you fucking- Jesus Christ, go burn in Hell,” He’s being irrational. He doesn’t care, “Call the cops on me. Tell them to let me rot in a fucking cell. I deserve it – but so do you. That girl… that… her. She’s one in a fucking million, she’s a thousand times better than whatever girl you have waiting on you inside, and you couldn’t see that. You’re a goddamn dick.” 

No one makes the move for the call. The bartender just shakes his head again, being far too patient. Eddie opens his mouth, ready to scream now as he demands they punish him. Make him pay for his crimes. Not just the punches, but everything he had broken tonight.

He broke you tonight. He deserves to burn in Hell far more than the man before him. 

“I knew you were in love with her, but-”

Eddie cuts him off, “I’m not in love with her.”

He hates the look he receives. It’s the same pity that Nancy now looks at him with. That same hidden judgment, like everyone else knows something that he doesn’t. 

“You may hate to hear it,” the bartender is choosing his words very carefully as he swipes in a contrasting carelessness at the blood pouring out of one of his nostrils, “But you don’t throw punches like that for a girl you’re not in love with. So I suggest you mind your business, and if she is as valuable as you keep going on about, you tell her rather than punching the dude he just serves you fucking alcohol.” 

He doesn’t even have to close his eyes to see you anymore. The image of you is clear as day, even with his eyes open. You, broken and vulnerable and full of hatred for him. Just as he had intended. 

Success tastes metallic and bitter. Eddie finally empties what little he had in his stomach onto that concrete alleyway.

He doesn’t leave the wall. Not when the bartender goes back inside with one of the bar’s bouncers, not when the remaining bouncer eyes him and nervously steps forward, not when they return with a paper declaring him banned from the bar. 

He can’t move. All he sees is you. He hasn’t drank more than that one pitiful swig of beer at Steve’s, but he feels like his world has gone incoherent all the same. 

He fucked up. 

He crinkles that piece of paper harshly once he’s properly left alone in the alleyway, angry enough that it tears a bit from his force. It doesn’t phase him; he didn’t intend on returning anyways. He carries it with him the entire way home, regardless, rolls it between his palms until it’s gone soft with the sweat of his hands. 

It’s for the better. He fucked up, but it’s for the better. 

He tosses the wadded ball into the trash when he gets home. Goes through the numb motions of taking off his shoes, tossing his jacket on the counter rather than the hook he’d put up for it, and leaves his bike’s keys beside it. Eventually, he makes his way to the bathroom, brushing his teeth but never once glancing up in the mirror. As a matter of fact, he avoided every single reflective surface in his apartment that night. 

He still sees your face, broken and teary, as he turns off his bedroom light and lays on his mattress that night. It doesn’t matter how many times he repeats it to himself, reminds himself over and over, the mantra of it being for the better doesn’t work. It can’t break through. All because of a pathetic revelation.

Eddie learns that night that he is, in fact, in love with you. And it doesn’t matter, because you hate his fucking guts, just as he had intended. 

—

You don’t make a single move once Eddie breathlessly finishes his explanation. Not even to breathe. 

He’s been in love with you since that night at Steve’s. 

You’d known that he had punched the bartender that night. You’d known that he had been banned from his usual bar that night. But you hadn’t known the entire truth. You couldn’t have ever imagined it, ever pieced it together, until now. 

And you don’t know if that speaks more on you and how dense you’ve been this entire time, or on Eddie and how dishonest he’s been this entire time. 

“God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.”

It suddenly makes sense. At a sickening and sudden pace, it clicks into place. 

“Eddie, I-” 

“Don’t,” he stops you, looking you directly in your eyes. You nearly shrink under his attention. Your fury is gone; you just feel empty, “You… You don’t need to say it back. You don’t need to say anything – the bet’s off. I’m not being honest to stop you from leaving,” he admits, every single wall crumbling at both of your feet, “I’m just being honest because you deserve it. I should have told you that night. I should- I actually should have never done any of this. Any of it.” 

You remember the girl you once were. In a bar, surrounded by strangers and new friends, with tunnel vision for the boy in front of you. You remember that feeling of coming home, the way you ached for him to let you in and had been fooled for one night that it was possible. 

A year later, and he was letting you in, too late. 

“Why?” your voice cracks. You should just pick up your bag and go, but you can’t. Not until you stick the final stitches into the wound, seal up this hurt once and for all. For you and for Eddie. “Why would you… Why would you do that? Why would you set out to make me hate you?” 

“Because I didn’t deserve you,” he says it like a simple fact, like it doesn’t shatter you apart, “Because I knew if I didn’t create the rift and kept letting you in, I’d fall in love with you. At first, I thought I needed you to hate me to prevent it. Figured you’d be stronger than me about it. If I made you hate me, I was… Honestly, I was saving myself. I’d tell myself it was about saving you, but it wasn’t. I was being fucking selfish.”

You nod silently, swallowing down tears. Tears for what could have been, tears for what you still want so badly that it aches. 

“All because of Steve making…” you trail off, head trying to wrap around all the honesty he had just presented you with, “Making some off-handed, drunk comment.” 

It was Eddie’s turn to silently nod. To swallow hard and flutter his eyes shut so you couldn’t see the hurt lit within them. 

“You said you hated me,” you’re thinking out loud more than you’re properly speaking to him at this point, voice broken and soft, hands fighting the urge to reach out for him. Even after it all. Every reminder of what he had done for you, and now having the pitiful reason behind it all, still couldn’t break what had formed here tonight. Everything has still changed for you, “When I said everything changes, I meant the hate – I didn’t want to hate you anymore.” 

“I know,” he bites his lip, as if he’s trying to hold back any careless words. Words that might hurt you, but not for the same reasons as they used to, “That’s why… not much has changed. I never hated you. God knows I wanted to. I told myself I had to hate you, because if I didn’t hate you, I’d love you. And I couldn’t do that again – I couldn’t handle falling in love with someone I couldn’t have. I knew I wouldn’t survive loving you when you’d never love me back. It wouldn’t be fair… to either of us.” 

“But you did it anyway,” you almost laugh at the awfulness of it all, terribly irony stacking up between you, “You fell in love with me, you said it yourself. You… you loved me.”

“Love,” he corrects, eyes now wide open, “I love you. It’s not- It’s not some feeling in the past tense. You should still hate me, because I still love you.” 

He’s right, you finally realize. You should hate him for all of this. 

“And all of this counted on the first part of your plan working,” he has to take a step closer, whether it be subconscious or due to how low your voice has dropped. The physical distance erased aches. Splinters each of your bones and all of your emotions, “Which you never even asked me if it worked, even now. You just assumed.” 

He takes a deep, brave breath before he quietly asks you, “Did it work?”

You both already know the answer now, “No.”

But it changes nothing. You know that, he knows that. It’s just as he said – the point of saying it out loud no longer has anything to do with repairing what’s been damaged just tonight. You’re both being honest only because you both deserve it. You both deserve to finally close this tomb. 

You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to close it, though. Not truly. Not properly. 

“I can’t stay,” you whisper, “I still… I still need to leave.” 

Especially now. 

“I know you do,” he responds. He’s gentle, understanding. 

It doesn’t stop the tear you see break from his lower lashes. He doesn’t draw any attention to it, doesn’t so much as move to clear it from his cheek. As if he’s scared if he does, you’ll notice it if you hadn’t already.

“The bet’s still off,” you continue, unable to meet his gaze as you pick up your bag once more. 

“I know it is.” 

He doesn’t try to stop you this time. And part of you, this time, wishes he would have as you slip back out the front door of apartment 2C and let the door shut with a quiet click behind you.

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[misskingshit]

𝘖𝘶𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺 summary: Being a Na'vi, you completely forbade yourself from feeling any kind of affection for the strange creature, but Jake won't give up. Note: It’s me again, it’s been a long time, i’m sorry i didn’t post anything (I don't really know why I apologize, probably nobody cares and nobody is reading this) but i’m here! Am I sick of finding a living being (not human, almost animal) that is blue and non-existent incredibly attractive? yes, but I don't care, he is HOT. xoxo

"Why are you following me Jake?" you asked without stopping on your way to the forest. Your thick accent was impossible to ignore, English was still not your forte.

"Me? I don't do anything, just learning" he answers, playing dumb.

"Following me like a lost pet?" You turned to face him, even so, a smile was plastered on your face.

"Where did you learn that phrase? It's used where I come from… not here" he looks at you strangely. It was true, not a saying the Na'vi used.

"I got to meet your...human friend, Norm, he's a bit weird but he knows a lot about these lands, it's interesting" you said, the fact that these strange beings are finally interested in learning about you and that they take the time to study everything about your home made you feel good and you were excited to hear everything.

"Do you spend time with him now?" Jake asked looking at the ground, brushing past you as he started walking again.

"He gets very close to me and says he likes me, I don't see the problem" you raised your shoulders a little, now you are the one who follows Jake.

"Yes, he likes you too much" you hear a small whisper.

"What?" questions.

A sigh on his part makes you very alert to the situation, not understanding what was happening "where I come from there is something called codes" he says "I think he is forgetting, maybe I should help him remember" Jake squeezes shortly his jaw, although you couldn't see it since he kept walking, turning his back on you.

"Codes? what kind of codes?" poor naive you were.

"He shouldn't get too close to you, much less tell you how much he likes you."

"Why shouldn't he?"

"Because I already like you, are the rules" he replies.

"Those are stupid rules, I don't get it, I like you too like I also like Norm or Dr. Grace, that doesn't mean I can't get close to them..." you stop when you see the abrupt way in which Jake stops his step and turns to talk to you.

"You don't understand, you don't understand the way I like you, it's… different" he says seriously.

"Why are you angry?" you ask, now you are a little more serious.

"It's called being jealous! I'm jealous! You don't understand" he raised his voice a little.

"I don't get it! I'm not of your race and I never will be! You and I are not the same!" You try to escape but he quickly stops you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, let me explain" he holds you "I like you, the way my heart races when you're around, like when I'm in my real body counting every second to come back and find you again, the way The one where you make this place feel like home to me," he confesses.

"like... like tsaheylu? That's what you say...".

Jake laughs slightly and caresses your cheek with one hand "yes, that's what I mean, the bond" your eyes widen "and I can't stand that the weirdo scientist approaches you because I want you for myself, I couldn't bear to lose you" he meets your foreheads.

The seconds in silence that seemed like centuries to him were killing him little by little, fear was eating him up inside.

"Jake...no, we can't..." he interrupted, again.

"Why?".

"Too many things, our path is not connected, you are temporary here" you start "sooner or later you will have to return to your real body...".

"That is not true, our way is our way, we decide it, the rest is solved later".

His hearts beat a thousand, it was something mutual, they both loved each other, but more than anything you were aware of all the obstacles that stood in their way, but Jake was willing to fight until his last breath to make their paths become one. only.

"Just, let me show you that it can be done" he leans closer to you.

You don't even doubt it, you already know you want it, but the fear is still there.

"I want the bond with you Jake."

———

This is not what i had in my mind, im sorry, this sucks.

I promise next one it’s gonna be better.

(English is not my native lenguage so im sorry for any mistake)

[simplysturn]

do you mean it? 💌

reader x christopher sturniolo

warnings: smut, fluff, unprotected p in v, choking, fwb, choking, slight agnst if u squint

mdni, this one isn’t for you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Chris mumbles as he thrusts his hips into mine harder and deeper with each stroke, one of his hands gripping my waist, the other on the headboard.

“Yes, baby, keep going. Mhm,” I moan into his ear.

“Don’t f-fucking call me that,” he utters between his harsh strokes.

I reach up to run my fingers through his hair and then I softly stroke his cheek. I pull his head down to make him look me in the eyes. “Baby,” I teasingly half-moan, maintaining eye contact. I wasn’t sure why Chris was suddenly against me using this pet name that was a common thing when we usually hook up, but never the less I knew it would stir him up. He grunts, displeased with my defiance as expected, and somehow speeds up even more, thrusting into me like an animal.

Chris's hand finds my throat and seeks approval with his eyes to add some pressure. I nod, and he pushes down, choking me, putting his entire body weight behind his movements. I am completely fucked out on his cock, and he knows it. He looks so fucking good on top of me, I can feel myself approaching my high, and Chris can feel it too.

“You gonna cum for me?” His hand moves to cup my face, slightly squeezing my cheeks together. “Use your words and answer me.”

“Chris, ugh, fuck yes. Don’t fucking stop.”

“Cum with me baby, fuck. Feels so fucking good, shit. I love you so much.”

Did he just say what I think he said? And he called me baby? Before I could even think to respond, we both hit our peaks simultaneously. He releases into me and I feel myself convulse on his cock. We both sigh as we’re coming down from our highs and he places a soft kiss on my neck and turns over to lay on his back beside me. We both lay in silence for what feels like an eternity.

"I'm just gonna clean up real quick. I'll be right back," I say softly. As I start to get up, Chris grabs my hand. "Are we ok?" His voice is shaky as he asks, obviously worried about what he said. My mind races, trying to come up with the least awkward way to have this conversation. All this was supposed to be was hooking up, friends with benefits. But it was clear he had caught feelings, and so had I.

After a few minutes, I come back into my room and Chris is standing at the end of my bed, getting dressed and putting on his jumper.

“Chris… what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like why are you getting dressed like you’re going somewhere?”

“Because I am? I’m going home, like I always do after we hook up.”

I stare at him waiting for him to look back at me. His eyes finally land on mine.

“What?” he giggles, walking over to me and slips his hands around my waist. “What’s wrong, hm? Everything’s fine, ok. I promise.” He takes a deep breath and pulls my head into his chest. “We can just forget what I said.”

“What if I don’t want to?” I mumble into his chest.

“Y/n… you don’t have to say anything, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—“

I cut him off and look up at him. “I love you too.”

A soft smile starts to grow on his face and I swear I see his eyes sparkle.

"Really?" he asks, his voice soft. His grip around my waist tightens. "Because you can't just fucking say that if you don't mean it. And you can't call me baby anymore when we're having sex if we're not, you know, together, I guess. It's too much. But I don't want you to say you love me if you don't mean it—“ I cut him off again by grabbing his face and putting my lips on his as I pull his body closer to me. This kiss is different. We've kissed a thousand times before, but this time is different. My stomach is doing flips and I feel him smile into it which causes me to do the same. We pull away slightly, our foreheads still resting against each other’s.

“I mean it, Chris.”

He smiles, “I love you so much,” he whispers to me one more time.

“I love you too. Now can you please get undressed and hop back into bed with me?” I request, giggling.

“Mhm, but I need to ask you something real quick.” I slightly yet excitedly raise my eyebrows and smile waiting for his question—already knowing what he’s about to ask.

“Will you be my—Jesus fuck, I’ve never asked anyone this before,” he jokingly cringes and we both laugh together.

“Take your time, baby.”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

notes !

*this is my own original writing. i do not give consent for my work to be published outside of tumblr. i do not give consent for anybody to steal or claim this story as their own*

this is a shorter one but i did cook this up in like 45 mins so please forgive me ! just a lil cute one bc i literally based this off a dream i had the other night 😭 like ????

ANYWAYSSSS ENJOY 🥰

tag list !

@sturncakez @sturnioloa @caroline12b @goandcomebsck @m2tts-slvf @ilovemattsworld @fleurnce @patscorner @freshloveforthefit @sturnioloshacker @mattnchrisworld @sturniolossss @solarsturniolo @strniohoeee

[gojoidyll]

puzzle piece ch. 1

yandere ! aventurine x female ! reader

summary | all it takes is putting all the pieces together in order to go back to how you once were. though, it won't do you any good if someone is deliberately destroying the pieces before you can find them.

warnings | memory loss, paranoia, grammatical errors, etc.

puzzle piece masterlist

"Lost?"

You looked over at the person who spoke, lips pursed together as you shook your head. "No, I'm not..." which was a lie. You were, in fact, lost. Though, being lost was an understatement. You couldn’t remember anything, if you were being honest. Your name, where you are, where you came from, if you were with someone... all of it was just a blur right now. And it wasn’t helping that your surroundings looked so off. Lamps, chairs, and other items floated freely in the air. Not to mention that you always felt like you were about to wake but couldn’t quite do so.

"You sure? Because where I’m standing, friend, you do."

'Friend?' You finally looked over at him, your eyes scanning him up and down. His blonde hair and multi-colored eyes were the first things of his appearance that stood out to you.

"I’m sorry, do we... know each other?"

"Forgetting me already? We met this morning when you and the rest of the Astral Express crew got to Penacony and ran into some trouble at the front desk."

“Astral Express? Penacony?” The more the man said, the more confused you got. Nothing was making sense and your memories were not coming back to you no matter how much you tried. You looked him in the eyes then, but despite your confusion and your silent cry for help in understanding anything he was saying, he merely smiled.

"Something wrong?"

You wanted to answer him truthfully. Tell him that you couldn’t remember, that this place was apparently called Penacony, that you don’t know what an Astral Express is, and that you have never seen him before. But... something deep inside of you was telling you not to tell him a single thing. A deep part of yourself was telling you to lie.

"I-" You didn’t know what to do. Briefly looking around, you saw that no one was coming to talk to you like this man did. Which probably meant that no one else here knew who you were either.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember anything that you just mentioned. I don’t know the Astral Express or Penacony... and I don’t remember you either.”

Ultimately, you decided to tell the truth despite the alarm bells going off in your head. You were lost, had no memory of where or who you were, and you may or may not have friends that are also in this place. So, you decided to take a chance even if that chance is with this guy with a smile that could cut through any lie. And, little did you know, when you finished telling your truthful answer, his smile grew wider if only by a slight margin.

“You don’t remember? Well, that’s a shame. Weird too. I never heard of anyone losing their memory in the dreamscape.”

“The what scape?” The man chuckled, “you don’t even know that you’re dreaming? How tragic.”

You frowned, “I’m dreaming? That doesn’t make any sense. If I’m dreaming, then how are you here? You seem too real to be someone that I dreamed up.”

The man merely shrugged, “it’ll take too long to explain. For now, just accept that Penacony is a land of dreams where people go to escape reality. And everyone here shares the same dream.”

“So, you are a real person,” you tried to affirm.

“As real as you, I can promise that.” You sighed, “fine so I lost my memory then? How is that possible?”

“That, I am not too sure of. A case like yours has never happened before, but... since people can apparently die here, well, maybe losing one’s memory isn’t so far-fetched either.”

“Wait, what was that about dying here?”

The man waved his hand in a dismissive manner, “nothing you should concern yourself with. Trust me, even if you ask around about what I just said. No one will know. The Family, of course, is just trying to cover it in order to not cause a riot.”

“The Family? My family or yours?”

He smiled that same calculating smile of his, “it’s not that type of family... just see them as... an organization.”

You nodded along. Truth be told, this was starting to be too much for you. Trying to process all the new information being lightly tossed to you was starting to make your head hurt. You slightly wondered if you would even be able to remember this new info then the memories you have previously lost.

The man, taking notice of your worried expression, decided to leave it at that, “for now, let’s get you out of this dream so you can properly rest, and then tomorrow we can start looking into this little problem of yours together.”

“Right, thanks…”

“I’m Aventurine, and you’re y/n, just in case you were wondering.”

[choism]

A Flashy Plan | b.tc

Captain Buggy x Crew!gn!Reader

Genre: Smut, Crack

Summary: A tough day and a tired crew calls for correction in the captain's quarters

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: sub!buggy, gn!reader, but you can imagine reader with a strap or a dick, unprotected sex (bad !), overstimulation, improper use of the chop chop fruit, buggy's head is elsewhere, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, buggy is a babygirl honestly, and a brat too

A/N: I said I would write it and I did! Look at me keeping promises for once lmao. I hope you all enjoy and dont forget to reblog with your thoughts <3

Today had been a rough day for the Buggy Pirates. There were two attacks, both just outside bordering islands, which meant they couldn’t stop for supplies for quite a while. Stopping meant bringing the attacking pirates near the island, which would cause panic, which would cause bounty hunters and marines to appear at the mere sight of their flag. No, they had to flee, and quickly.

Now, afloat the east blue with no real course yet, the crew was in sore spirits, especially their Captain. Buggy had been extra mopey– extra mean to everyone, and that included you. You and the captain had a…special relationship. Sleep together occasionally, cuddle occasionally, but that was the extent of it. It was just two pirates trying to find sense in this barren sea, and you two happened to end up naturally floating together, pun intended.

You were fed up. All of the crew had suffered losses today. They were starved, thirsty, and just wanted to rest but that was impossible when aboard the ship of the man to be King of the Pirates. Buggy was just making everything worse by poking the bear.

“You all suck! Not a very flashy move to flee an island all because of some lowly pirates. We could've done better.” He spits at nobody in particular, but he looks at you briefly and it sets something off inside of you. The crew disperses and you immediately make your way to the clown.

Buggy is back in his captain’s quarters, bent over the desk and presumably overlooking something, while mumbling to himself. You walk in and quietly close the door behind you, tip-toeing behind him and whispering in his ear, “So what wasn’t flashy about avoiding us getting caught by marines, hm?” You smirk and feel him stiffen at the desk.

“I- I didn’t mean you y/n! You were fine I just think that–”

You don’t let him finish, Spinning him around and pinning him to the desk, leaning fully into his space now,

“Think what? That we are no better than lowly pirates? You know better than to insult your crew during such a hard time, Bugsy.” The nickname rolls off your tongue smoothly, sending a shiver down Buggy’s spine. Outside, he’s the captain, but in his attempt to escape the harsh reality of a Captain’s burdens, he submits in the bedroom.

You, on the other hand? You like control, dominance. You like to feel like you have a grip on whatever flimsy string life is, and this is how you take that initiative. It’s a great dynamic and there have been no complaints from Buggy’s end. Well…Unless we are talking about his rear end…

“Fuck y/n wait, I- I’m sorry okay let’s just talk this out, oh!” You press your knee into his crotch, he’s already half hard from being talked down to of course. Buggy whimpers and trembles beneath your touch, anticipating what you’ll do next. You reach your hand up to hold his jaw and place light pecks at his neck, lowering your hand to grip his neck lightly.

“Head on the table sweetheart.” You smirk and step back, starting to unbuckle your belt.

“Why what are you going to do?” Buggy takes off his hat and his headscarf, letting his long blue locks fall around his shoulders in heavy waves. You would never admit it to him, but you find Buggy so gorgeous, if he offered up anything further than some situationship at sea, you’d probably take him up on it. You stare into his green eyes, giving him an answer without even saying anything. Buggy makes room on the desk and pops his head off, gently landing on the wood.

“Well? Take off your clothes too, slut.” The degrading name causes Buggy’s cock to jump in his pants, now fully hard from the unbelievable sexual build up. He makes quick work of his own clothes, now fully nude in front of his crew mate. You’ve gotten your own clothes off as well, having grabbed the spare lube Buggy keeps in his desk and slicking up your own cock. “Turn around for me baby.” You command him and he swiftly complies.

His plump ass is fully on display, his flush cock hanging heavy between his legs and leaking precum like a faucet. You lube up your fingers, warming it up and spreading it over his hole, making sure to get him ready for your fingers.

“Mm please, please do it already.” His head begs, looking at the sight with his eyes heavy, lips pouted and whimpering. 

“You don’t get a say in this, you get to watch and look pretty.” You grip his jaw and he looks up at you, nodding. Now fully bent over the desk, some things falling over, you enter a single finger, crooking and prodding at him to stretch him properly for your cock later. Buggy lets out loud groans next to you, clearly enjoying the sensation. You add a second, and then a third finger, the lube slick sounds bouncing off the thin walls of his quarters, the crew is probably hearing everything. 

You fuck into him deeply, hitting his prostate over and over, his cock leaking all over important documents on his desk as he ruts into it, chasing pleasure.

“‘M cum…gon’ cum…” He lazily says, and you halt all of your movements. “Fuck why please nng ah!” You swiftly enter him, filling him up with your cock and mercilessly fucking into his wet hole. Almost immediately, he comes all over the desk and onto the floor, but you don’t stop thrusting. Buggy lets out strings of ‘ ah ah ah’ with each thrust.

“What? Can’t handle me being a little rough? How do you expect to handle those ‘lowly pirates’ if you can’t even take a cock properly without cumming instantly?” He’s a whimpering mess, drooling and looking at his own body being fucked. Buggy can’t even form words, the overstimulation causing him to get hard again quickly.

“N…” Buggy starts to say but you can’t hear him. You grab his hair and lift up his head, forcing him to be face to face with you as you pound into him,

“Spit it out.”

Buggy laughs half-heartedly, “Not flashy enough.”

You reattach his head and flip him over on the desk so his legs are in the air and his cock is flush against his stomach. You enter him again, fucking him even harder than before. “Is this flashy enough for you, clown? Wanna be fucked dumb like the cockslut you are?” You feel your own orgasm approaching quickly, you wrap a hand around Buggy’s pathetically leaking cock, fisting it so you can finish at the same time.

Soon after, you both finish, Buggy making a mess of his own stomach, some of it even reaching his face. You pull out of him slowly.

“How’s that for a flashy plan, captain?”

© Choism 2023. do not repost or translate.

[mykoreanlove]

on being real

“I don’t want to date you anymore, Jackson.”

The silver fork he was holding in his left hand fell onto the marble floor, crashing the silence caused by your announcement. Jackson was visibly irritated, big frowns on his face.

“You… what? Why?”

For days you had been practicing this moment, imagining how you would explain your reasons and set him free. And even though you went over this moment hundreds of times, you were not prepared for the gravel pit of anxiety in your stomach. You didn’t do this because you didn’t want him, no. Your feelings were as strong as ever, but Jackson never opened up, he never let you take a look behind his porcelain façade. You decided to no longer waste your time with someone that only portrayed his good sides.

“I don’t feel like knowing you, Jackson. You only show me your good sides, you never share your problems with me. I just…”, you stumbled to find the right words.

“Say it, y/n”, he urged you with a serious tone.

“I feel like I’m dating a fake.”

Ouch, the pit grew bigger.

Jackson hid his face behind his hands, shielding himself from you. You didn’t think it would affect him that much, but his silent sobs gave him away.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.”

It didn’t take long for him to change into his real self, which you finally saw for the first time after months of dating. His eyes, always sparkly but never serene, turned dead, drained from life and love. You silently gasped, surprised to see the abyss behind the veil.

Jackson broke out in laughter as he wiped away his tears.

“Dating a fake, huh?”

Tears started to form in your eyes, seeing him like that broke your heart.

“What do you want to know, y/n? How broken I really am? You think you’re going to love that?”, he spat sarcastically.

You couldn’t answer, you didn’t dare to. Jackson took another sip of his drink, grimacing in pain.

“Shall we talk about my crippling depression, then? You want to know what that’s like? To lie awake every night wondering if this is the life I want, the one that I deserve? Shall we talk about the accompanying anxiety which is clouding my mind 24/7? Am I doing enough? Am I true to myself? Is this really who I am? Shall we talk about my sweaty hands and rapid heartbeat? Me wondering if I’m about to drop dead any minute? Is that it?”

He paused and observed you, not understanding the reason behind your tears.

“Or shall we talk about my health problems? Did you notice how badly I’m griding my teeth? Should I tell you that my jaw is tense as fuck and my teeth are overly sensitive? That drinking and eating anything but warm liquor is making me wince in pain? You think I’m this skinny because I’m on a diet? No, y/n, far from it. Should I tell you how frustrated I am because I have tried literally anything, and no one can help me? You wanna know what that’s like? To be helpless in your own body? To be betrayed by your own fucking body?”

Your eyes wandered to the glass in his hands, finally understanding why he was always drinking so much. Jackson started pacing through the room while bearing his darkest secrets.

“Or shall we talk about the people I’m seeing for help? Because I’ve seen them all, y/n. I searched through whole fucking Asia, and everybody is saying the same shit. It’s all in your head, Jackson. Do you know how fucked up that is? Neither antidepressants nor the shit for my teeth is helping me and you wanna know why? Because apparently, it’s in my head. My body is hurting because my soul is hurting. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Jackson spilled some of his liquor, trying to make a point.

“Or let’s not forget about my love life, y/n. You wanna know what that’s like? You wanna know how much energy it took to portray myself as normal? I wanted you to think of me as strong and healthy and full of life but now you’re breaking up with me because that was, what, fake? I did all of this so you would never realize how broken, fragile, and weak I am. But I guess that wasn’t the right way to go about it either.”

Another layer of sadness washed over his face, tinting his brown eyes in even deeper despair. Jackson took a seat on the couch and hid behind his hands again, wondering why he told you all of this if you were already over him.

He flinched in surprise as he felt your arms around him, hugging him tightly. For once he just gave in and hugged you back, crying silently in your embrace.

“Thank you for telling me, Jacky”, you whispered sweetly into his ear. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

He looked at you surprised, so you explained yourself.

“I fell in love with you because you were a real one. Standing in your truth and being true to who you are. That’s how I have always perceived you, anyways. But then when we started dating, and I never got to know that side of yours. You were too perfect, in a way. And I don’t want perfect. I want real, Jacky.”

His thumb brushed along your cheek, tracing down to your jaw.

“How could you possibly want that?”, his hoarse voice croaked.

You chuckled in response.

“I’m not perfect, Jackson. And I don’t want to be. Don’t you think I get depressed from time to time? We can cry together then. And yes, the thing with your teeth sucks. But I will love you even if you get new ones. And besides that, my teeth don’t hurt but my head does. Often, I get insufferable migraines and have to lie in a pitch-black room, I flinch at light like Dracula himself. Do you think I like that? No, but we all have something. You make it sound like you have to be perfect to be loved. But you don’t.”

The newfound spark in his eyes was noticeable, if only for a quick moment.

“I agree with the people you’ve been seeing, though. Your soul is hurting, Jackson. And that’s okay.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, looking at him hopeful.

“You don’t have to heal on your own though. I’d like to help… if you let me?”

[srjlvr]

SEVEN ROYALTIES

“once upon a time a prince mistakenly fell in love with the wrong princess” — kim sunoo

kim sunoo x fem!reader genre: mistakenly falling in love , strangers to lovers , fluff , a bit of angst ! warnings: none (at least not that im aware of! please update me if you find anything!!) || NOT FULLY PROOFREAD !!

WORD-COUNT ; 5.2k+

NOTE. besties its been A REAL WHILE!! i’ve been trying to balance my life but i fail miserably honestly. i wrote all of this on one of my free days instead of studying for math!!😭 you better like it or i’ll cry. please leave feedbacks!! i love reading them!! hope you have a good day / afternoon / evening / night!! mentions of jungwon’s story are here too!!<3

“y/n did you forget you have manners class today? get up!” your mother was the one to wake you up after your maids failed attempts, she pulled your blanket away and you groaned.

manners classes always annoyed you. probably because it had something to do with ‘how to act in front of your future husband’ rules and manners.

“do i have to go?” you whined. your mother raised her eyebrow, “did you really just ask me that question?”

you rolled your eyes and got up, “i’m up, you can go now”

she left your room without saying anything else. you sighed loudly and sat on your bed.

“good morning your highness, let’s get you ready” one of your maids smiled softly at you.

“give me only five more minutes” you begged and she shook her head, “your mother will get furious if you’ll be late”

you closed your eyes in defeat, you know she’s right. sometimes you wish your mother wouldn’t be so strict about everything in your life.

after getting ready you rushed to eat dinner with your parents, who were already waiting for you.

“mother, father” you greeted them, without even a good morning.

your relationship with your parents is quite weird. if you’d be asked to address it you would’ve said its a co-workers relationship. you barely talk about your problems with them, nor they ask about your well-being. all they care about is royalty, royalty and royalty.

“have you heard? hybe’s kingdom will have a ball for their youngest’s birthday” your father spoke.

“oh yes! i saw the invitation” your mother answered, “it’s a no-adults party except for his older brothers, y/n you’re invited there”

you glanced at your mother who was busy cutting her bread, “hm?”

“hybe kingdom invited all younger royals to celebrate the youngest son’s birthday, you’re definitely going!!” your mother smiled.

“you’ll be able to meet your future husband there! we didn’t want you two to meet up yet but who knows, maybe it’ll be a start of something” your father added.

“we’ll tell you into more details later, now go to your class! your teacher is waiting” your mother ordered and you did as she said.

you’ve had manners classes as soon as you turned into a beautiful young lady, according to your mom, you should’ve taken them earlier—so you’d be more prepared and will have some manners in front of her friends.

when you turned fifteen, your family already informed you they decided on your future husband, and you had no option to resist, they forced this marriage on you and didn’t even give you the chance to say no.

you’ve never heard of the man, you don’t know anything about him. the only thing you do know is that you’re going to get married to him as soon as you turn 21 which means, your clock is ticking and you’re slowly going out of options.

ever since you can remember yourself, you wanted your own fairytale love story, a one love story that will make anyone envy you, a one true love story you can use when you want to tell your future kids a night story, a one true love story where you’d be the one to pick the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with.

your parents however, thought it was a good joke, and always used to laugh at it.

“true love story? there’s no such a thing” your mother always says.

“we got married for the benefit of our kingdoms, and we fell in love through the marriage, you’ll get to experience it too” your father adds.

“marrying someone you don’t know isn’t that bad! you’ll get to know each other after the wedding” your parents both love to laugh about it whenever they could.

your manners class should’ve been called ‘how to be a good wife’ class in your opinion, you learn nothing other than how to behave around your future husband and how to take care of him. stupid primitive royalties.

“good morning y/n, let’s get to class quickly” your teacher who had been waiting for you in your usually room greeted you and you greeted her back.

“what do you do if your husband tells you that he’s tired from duties and he’s hungry but the maids are already asleep?” you teacher asked.

you sighed before answering, “i get up and massage him, then go to the kitchen and make him something the eat”

your teacher clapped her hands in excitement, “that’s all for today, good job!”

this life is tiring.

when you look at your other friends who you’ve met in ball events, they seem to enjoy their single life. none of them was promised to marry someone they don’t like, so where did you go wrong?

feeling too tired from class, you decided to go and take a short nap, it wouldn’t hurt to go back to sleep right? it’s not like you have something important to do anyway.

before going to nap you laid down on your bed and stared at the ceiling.

“will i ever get to meet the person i would choose to marry?” you asked yourself before you drafted to sleep.

“sunoo!! focus!” while you were sleeping loudly, the fifth prince of hybe kingdom was busy taking manners class.

“i was just now at (your kingdom’s name) kingdom, how come it’s easier to teach ladies than gentlemen?” his teacher complained.

his teacher is your teacher as well, but of course both of you doesn’t know that.

“i apologize” sunoo quickly then bowed as an apologetic gesture.

“focus!” the teacher tsked and sunoo sat straight.

“if your wife comes home from duties and she tells you she’s quite tired, what do you do?” she asked.

“i’d ask her to tell me how her day was and i’ll make her some food” sunoo smiled widely and the teacher shook her head.

“no, no, no! you ask your maids to make her something to eat!” his teacher sounded disappointed.

sunoo pout, he didn’t understand the logic behind it all, a husband needs to take care of his wife, and what are those manners classes? who made those stupid classes anyway?

out of all 7 brothers, his parents chose him as the one who needs to suffer the most in his opinion.

sunoo is the only one who has been taking manners classes, and he’s the only one who’s promise to marry someone he doesn’t know.

does his parents think he won’t be able to find someone he’d like to marry?

“that’s it for today, practice and study more! for the next time i want you to be better” the teacher left without giving him a chance to send her off.

she must be really angry then, huh?

sunoo then sighed and gathered his papers.

“tough day?” he heard a voice and shoot his eyes to the figure who was standing right at the door.

“you could say that” sunoo nodded and dropped his glance.

jungwon pitied his older brother, he has always been the one to suffer from their parents’ endless bickering, and jungwon always wondered why’s that.

“just hold it in for a while, it’s going to end soon” jungwon walked closer to his brother and pat his shoulder.

sunoo groaned, “easy for you to say, you already basically know who you’re going to marry”

jungwon smiled a bit, “mom and dad are starting to get on your nerves, aren’t they?”

sunoo nodded, “can’t they just let me live my life the way i want to?”

a door slammed and you woke up immediately.

“i apologize your majesty, the queen asked me to wake you up from your nap” one of your maids said, “she wants to meet you in the garden”

you dismissed your maid and went down to your castle’s garden, your favorite place on earth.

“mother,” you called her, “you were asking for me”

your mother who was sitting on one of the benches turned her glance to you and smiled, “do you know why i called you, y/n?” she asked.

you shook your head and moved closer to her.

“your wedding of course!” she opened her arms and hugged you.

you let out a big sigh, of course! why would she want to talk with you about anything else?

“i’m joking, joking” she giggled, “i was a bit bored, i wouldn’t mind some company”

you nodded and proceeded to sit on the bench next to her. both of you sat in silence, she looked pretty relaxed, but you’re always being extra careful around her.

“have you ever heard of hybe kingdom?” she suddenly asked.

“no, the only thing i know about them is that they’re seven siblings, and each one is soon to get a throne”

“their family is quite weird i must say,” your mother chuckled, “the oldest son is going to marry a commoner! can you believe it??”

you nodded, “if they really do love each other, they deserve to be happy together”

your mother looked at you in disbelief, “it’s not a good reason to break a royal rule!” she argued.

“what royal rule? they’re ancient and no one’s even looking at them anymore!!” you argued back.

“ancient or not!! a royal rule is a royal rule!!”

“sometimes love is more important than a stupid rule!!”

“you—“ your mother stopped for a second to take a deep breathe, “if that’s another way of you to try and convince me to let you marry whoever you want, it’s not going to work”

you rolled your eyes and looked away, “you don’t even realize how important it is to me” you mumbled and she stayed quiet, completely ignoring what you’ve just said.

“you’re going to meet your soon to be husband at hybe’s kingdom party, you should be prepared”

eventually you left her alone and went back to your room, you had nothing to talk about together anyway.

“there you are sunoo!! we’ve been searching for you!!” hybe’s queen remarked.

“hello mother” sunoo whispered.

“your teacher told me you’re not doing well!! sunoo, what’s wrong with you?” she raised her voice and sunoo shut his eyes.

“if you’d just let me feel free and let me do what i want maybe i’ll be able to be mannered enough for you!” he spoke back and his mother stepped back.

“sunoo!!”

“what? did i say something wrong? instead of letting me find someone i’d truly love and want to marry, you’re forcing me into it!” he raised his voice back.

“this is not up to discussion!! your marriage is final!” his mother fired back, “it’s okay if you dont love her now, you’ll force yourself into it and eventually fall in love!”

sunoo sighed and tears filled his eyes, “you’d never let me live the way i want to, would you?”

his mother stayed quiet and he slowly nodded, “got it” he whispered and went to his room.

the next mornings felt all the same, manners class and getting back to sleep, it was the same for sunoo, other than the fact that he had to help his younger brothers with their own love stories. love stories that he’d never have.

“i don’t know what to do, it hurts, i miss her” jungwon cried to his older brother as he hugged him and suggested him a few steps.

looking at his brothers living freely as they want made him really happy for them, but also envy them for being their parents’ favorite in his opinion.

eventually, ni-ki’s birthday came and everyone around the castle were busy getting ready.

“good morning sunoo! time to get ready” the maids said and he barely got himself up.

“you’re going to meet your soon-to-be wife!! isn’t that exciting?” jay, who came in together with sunoo’s maids, decided to tease him a bit.

sunoo groaned and covered himself with his pillow.

“get up sleepy head! it’s your brother’s birthday today!! at least wish him a happy birthday!!” jay took the pillow and threw it at him a few times.

sunoo really didnt want to wake up today. dont get him wrong, he loves his brother, its just something about today that makes it extremely hard for him to wake up.

“right, what was her name again?” this was the exact reason sunoo couldn’t wake up, his parents couldn’t even recall his future wife’s name!

“nevermind, you need to go get ready!” his father commented.

“you’ll know it when you see her, she’s awfully pretty!” both of them said and pushed him back to his room to get ready.

“oh my dear! you’re awfully pretty!” your mother clapped as you gave her a twirl of your dress.

“you’re only saying that because you’re my mom” you scoffed and she shook her head.

“you really are really pretty, our pretty princess” your father got involved and smiled.

you gave them a short smile, “thank you—“

“can you believe it? you’re going to meet your future husband!! are you ready for it?” your mother stepped closer to you, cupping your cheeks in both hands.

“no” you sighed. “well then, be ready for it! we don’t want him to think you’re messy and unorganized”

what does not being ready for this even have to do with being messy and unorganized??

you just nodded and closed your eyes. if you start crying now, the beautiful makeup your maid had put on you would get ruined.

“we’re so proud of you, y/n” both of them said and you just nodded.

“oh! you look exactly like a prince” his brother sunghoon remarked. “i didnt look like one up until now?” sunoo rolled his eyes but sunghoon only chuckled.

“hey im just joking, you look really good sunoo” the older complimented him and sunoo smiled, “thank you”

“off you go!! enjoy the party!” your parents said as they sent you off to hybe kingdom, with a thumping heart you smiled and nodded.

five minutes into the drive and it finally sank into your mind, your parents never mentioned his name, not even once.

quick!! what should you do?? risk it all and just continue the drive and hope to find him in mysterious way? or get back to your parents and ask them for it??

obviously option one is the best option.

“we have arrived, your majesty” your driver informed you and went out to open the door for you.

you took a few deep breaths, “you can do it”

as you got out you saw lots of princesses and princes, all entering the big and beautiful castle.

“please welcome princess y/n from (name of kingdom)” the door opened for you and all eyes were on you, you hated it, you hated this welcoming.

it was somehow a royal thing, to inform of a royal entering a castle, but then what? it drew everyone’s attention to you.

you felt everyone’s gaze on you, mumbling nothings and whispering whatever. you slowly entered deep into the crowd until the other royals didnt care about you anymore.

“hello there, beauty” you heard someone say, you turned around to meet with a very pretty looking guy.

“hello” you replied back and extended him your hand for him to kiss.

you hated this too, the feeling of a stranger on your hand, why was this even a royal rule??

“i couldn’t stand seeing you alone so—“

“and finally, please welcome the hybe family” all of your heads turned to the door.

first one to enter was prince heeseung, you could see him searching for a specific person in the crowd and as soon as he saw her, he smiled.

second to enter was prince jay, he looked super focused, he too, was searching for a specific person in the crowd.

third to enter was prince jake, he looked so peaceful somehow, as if he already knew where was the specific person he was searching for.

fourth to enter was prince sunghoon and god, his visuals were no joke, whoever will end up with him definitely won a handsome one of a kind.

fifth to enter was prince sunoo, as soon as he entered you felt as if the world had stopped.

you two somehow made an eye contact for a few good seconds, as if he already found the person he was searching for.

is he….? no, he can’t be, can he?

the voice of the welcoming of the sixth prince woke you up from your deep thoughts.

sixth to enter was prince jungwon, he looked around, smiling at everyone while obviously trying to search for someone.

“and lastly, please welcome the birthday boy, riki!” as the seventh prince riki entered, everyone clapped and cheered.

only he, was smirking at everyone. he was definitely up to something.

as the party started, you started to feel tired. what if you just ditch early? no one will notice anyway.

you started walking towards what you thought was the exit, turns out it was a door for the castle’s garden.

“great, how do i get out now” you mumbled.

you heard steps behind you and turned around immediately.

your eyes widened as you saw the person that was standing in front of you.

“hello” he said with a warm smile.

“prince sunoo” you whispered under your breath, “hello”

“you probably have already heard who i am, but i’m sunoo” he said and bowed to you.

you couldn’t understand why, but you felt your cheeks heating up. focus y/n, focus!!

is he your promised prince?

“i’m l/n y/n” you introduced yourself with a curtsy, sunoo took your hand and kissed the back of it, “you look awfully pretty, y/n”

you said you hated it, hated it when a stranger kissed your hand, but why did it feel so different when he did it?

you wanted him to keep kissing your hand, and maybe not only your hand.

no, y/n what are you thinking!!

sunoo couldn’t explain it, ever since he laid his eyes on you, he felt something.

you were so, so pretty in his eyes. he saw the whole crowd but his eyes only looked at you. he wanted to get to know you more, he’s more than 100% sure you’re promised to him, how could his parents forget your beautiful name?

and if it turns out you’re not the one who’s promised to him, he’s more than determined now to make you his wife.

“would you like to have a dance y/n?” he suddenly asked, looking into your soft eyes.

you could still hear the music at the back, you enjoy dancing anyway, so why not?

“i’d love that” you replied.

sunoo took your hand and guided you, you were extremely close to each other.

your hands were around his neck, and his held your waist.

“how come i’ve never seen you before?” he asked.

“i’m not the type to go to royal celebrations, i came here for the first time since i’m kind of forced to meet my future husband” you replied softly.

“future husband?” sunoo disappointedly looked down.

did you already find your future husband? your promised one?

you shook your hand, “i have yet to find him, but now that i’m being here with you…” you stayed quiet for a bit, “i think i found him”

oh you were bold. what if he already has someone he’s going to marry to?

“oh,” he suddenly said and chuckled, “i think i already found my future wife too”

both of you shared a long eye contact, god he was so attractive and you were so beautiful in his eyes.

you changed position and crossed your hands together, going in circle while not even breaking your eye contact for a mere second.

you didn’t want to let go of each other, as the song ended, so did your dance.

you decided to sit on one of the benches at the garden and share a little conversation.

a little conversation ended up lasting for almost until midnight. you’ve been at the garden since eight pm.

you talked about your hobbies, your family, your miserable life with your manners classes.

“no way! you’re having them too?? i thought only my parents were old school” he said in excitement.

“yeah, i guess both of us are experiencing the old school parents” you chuckled.

the conversation just kept on going further and further until the maids reminded you it’s time to go.

both of you got up from the bench and looked at each other.

“i don’t want this night to end” you pout.

sunoo giggled and put his hands around your waist.

“i don’t want it to end either” he replied.

it was a comforting silence between the two of you, until he started getting closer.

“can i…..?” he asked and you nodded.

he crushed his lips on yours and held you tightly. you kissed him back and put your hands around his neck.

the kiss was so innocent and sweet, as if you’re having your first teen love.

as you slowly let go of the kiss you opened your eyes and giggled.

“there you—am i interrupting something?” you recognize this prince, it’s prince jake.

“not at all, i was just about to leave” you said after and curtsied to the prince.

you walked away but not before whispering into sunoo’s ear, “hopefully i get to see you again”

as you left, jake pushed sunoo and cheered for him. “you found her didn’t you!!”

sunoo smiled, his cheeks still blushing from the kiss you shared a few minutes ago. it was just like in the love stories he liked to read.

“oh! her name is minju!”

no. this can’t be.

after the celebration, his parents came up to him to ask him how was meeting his future wife.

only then he realized he has been wrong this whole time.

“what?” he asked.

they nodded and smiled, “we’re so glad you enjoyed! we were actually worried about you not liking her”

“i need to sleep” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i need to sleep now” he said louder.

his parents left his room, shocked and speechless. did they say something wrong?

“y/n dear, how was the party?” your parents came up to you, they’ve probably been waiting for you to get back.

you knew they didn’t really care about the party, but more about the person you’ve met there.

you already knew that the person you’re promised to marry wasn’t sunoo, but you couldn’t help it but fall in love with him.

you realized it wasn’t sunoo halfway into your conversation. your parents told you a few facts about your future husband, and none of them matched sunoo. still, you kept on spending the night with him instead of going to search your promised one.

“it was fine” you replied.

“just fine….?” they asked surprised.

“yeah”

“what about….?”

“oh, it was amazing actually, i already feel myself falling for him, he’s the person i want to marry to and no one else” you smiled, “ever since i saw him i only think of him”

your parents looked at you in confusion. they weren’t expecting to hear that from you, especially because you hated this idea.

“are you…doing okay?” they asked and you nodded, cheeks heating up after remembering your past events.

“i’ll be going to sleep now” you skipped to your room happily, leaving your parents dumbfounded.

the next day you woke up, “y/n! you got a letter” one of your maids brought your letter to you and you opened it.

‘meet me at xxxx around 9pm — sunoo’

you smiled after reading the letter, and you couldn’t help but wait for the eve to come.

around 8:30pm you sneaked out, telling your parents you weren’t feeling well and getting out slowly and surely, no one noticed you.

you arrived the place and waited for him. you sat on a bench and looked at the sky.

the sky was so dark and the stars were shining brightly, you enjoyed looking at the sky, until you couldn’t see anything.

someone covered your eyes, “guess who” you heard a familiar voice and chuckled.

“my future husband” you said.

this new nickname you gave him made him flutter each time he hears it coming out of your mouth.

he removed his hands and pecked your cheeks, “ding ding ding, we have a winner” he smiled and went to sit next to you on the bench.

“i missed you” he added.

“you saw me yesterday” you replied.

“24 hours without seeing you, my heart can’t handle it” he held his hand against his heart and you rolled your eyes, “you’re so cheesy”

“you didnt mind it yesterday” he shrugged, “i still don’t”

both of you chuckled and kept talking with a wide smile all over your faces.

the two of you knew, you knew you’re not promised to each other, you knew you won’t end up getting married to each other, so why does none of you bring this up?

you kept talking and talking without even realizing it was past 3 am. you have manners class later today, you have to get some sleep.

“you have to go?” he asked and you nodded sadly.

“my parents will kill me if i dont wake up in time” you sighed.

“let’s meet up tomorrow too, same time, same place” he said and you nodded.

you pecked his lips and ran back, leaving him with blushing cheeks.

none of you wants to admit it, but you’re not going to end up together. so you’ll just spend your time together as long as you can, holding into the fact that maybe, maybe you actually will have a chance to marry each other.

your sneaking out became a usual thing for you and sunoo, you really did keep your promise and met up every day.

“how do you want our wedding to be?” he asked you once.

your head was resting on his lap as he caressed your hair.

“my family, your family, and maybe just a few important royals, in your castle too, because that’s where we first met” you smiled and he smiled back at you.

both of you knew it’s not really going to happen, but you still held into the hope that maybe, against all the odds, maybe you will be able to change your fate.

“i love it, what do you think about honeymoon?” he asked in addition to the wedding part and you just giggled.

as you came back to your room that day from meeting sunoo, you noticed a figure sitting on your bed.

you got scared and immediately turned on the lights, just to notice it was your mother.

“mother,” you whispered.

“i thought you’re not feeling well?” she asked seriously.

“i-i went to catch some air—“ “dont try to excuse yourself” she said firmly.

you looked down and sighed, “i met up with my future husband”

her serious face turned into a wide smile, “really? what did you two—“

“kim sunoo from hybe kingdom” you cut her off as you just now told her who you met up.

“what?” she asked, the wide smile turning into confusion.

“i met up with sunoo, my future husband” you boldly said.

your mother laughed, “that was a good joke! dont scare me like that again” she continued to laugh but her laugh faded when she noticed you were serious.

“oh, you’re serious?” she asked and you nodded.

“i want to marry sunoo, mom” you said.

“that’s not possible” she argued.

“why not? i love him, he’s the person i want to marry” you said.

“a no is a no, i don’t want to argue about it” she got up.

“but i do, i won’t marry any other person, even that ‘future husband’ you’ve been telling me to marry” you’re a one stubborn child, and you’re not going to give up on sunoo that easily.

your mother sighed, “i will not argue about this with you, you’re grounded, i’ll put hundreds of guards around just to keep you here” she raised her voice.

“you can try and keep me here all you want! it’s not going to change my feelings!” you shout as she went out of your room.

sunoo wasn’t doing any better, he too, got caught as he came back.

“no!” his mother argued, “you’re promised to marry minji and that’s final! i don’t want to hear another word!”

sunoo scoffed, “out of all seven of us, you chose to be strict with me, now that i finally found someone i love, you’re taking her away from me? why did you let heeseung marry a commoner then?” he shout.

his mother stayed speechless.

“exactly, you have no good reason” he said in disbelief.

“you’re not allowed to go out anymore until you realize what you just did, minju is your future wife and no one else” she said before smacking the door.

while both of you weren’t allowed out of your castles, you could send letters one to other.

you kept communicating through that, however, it was slow and hard as one letter per day came in.

on one of the days you shared dinner with your parents, as usual you stayed quiet and didn’t talk to neither of them.

only today was different, “y/n,” your father called you but you ignored.

“we’ve decided to break off the agreement with the other kingdom” he continued and your eyes light up.

“me and your mother decided it’s what best for you, and we want nothing more than to see you happy” he said.

“does that mean…..?” you whispered and your mother nodded, “you can marry prince sunoo, we talked some sense in his parents too”

you looked at the clock and saw the time, 8:30pm.

you looked over your parents, “can i….?” and they nodded.

you pushed away your chair and ran out of the castle to search for your sunoo.

you arrived at your place with a wild smile, expecting to see him already, your smile faded as you saw no one.

your eyes teared up, until someone covered your eyes behind you, “guess who”

without waiting, you turned around and hugged the person you were so longing for.

“my future husband, my real future husband” you cried into the hug as he hugged you back tightly, not wanting to let you go.

“i missed you” he said and you cupped his face.

“i love you” you said before kissing him.

you caught him off guard but he was quick to kiss you back, holding your waist and getting you closer to him than ever.

both of you pulled away when you felt you were out of air.

you pressed your foreheads against each other with eyes closed, “it’s been so long, it feels so good to hold you again, i love you” he said and you smiled.

“i was wondering how long it’s going to take for my parents to realize i only want to marry you” you chuckled.

“took them too long” he scoffed and you nodded.

“what’s important is that you’re here now” you whispered.

“i’m here, forever and ever, i love you”

TAG-LIST ; @jaeneohee @hsgwrld @enhastolemyheart @enhacatalog @kaykay11sworld @ipoststuffandyeah @beomsbeanie @queestionmark @ineedsomezzz @yenqa @nshmrarki @asteriaskingdom @ikayyyyyy @mrchweeee @artiiistyxoo @6yulight @woncoree @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 (bold means cannot be tagged)

[badfictropes]

Savior Complex in Teen Mom Danny Dp x Dc

(Warning: I enjoy these type of fics and prompts just expressing some of my frustrations about certain things. No hate towards anyone.)

So I want to start by saying I love mom Danny who is the mom of Dani and Dan if they are deaged or not and Vlad as Dani and Dan’s father but I find when people mix in dc they tend to make Danny into some poor abused thing that needs the big bad bats to save him and his children. Which in itself wouldn’t be such a bad thing but add in the Batfam stalking and manipulating Danny and it just irritates me.

In these stories Danny and his kids are on the run from Vlad usually or his parents and they end up in Gotham, good so far. Then they somehow catch the attention of the bats which is where I stop, to be fair at least half the time Danny or the kids get mixed up with a rouge or are revealed to be metas(or at least dc characters think so) which is its own prejudice I’ll come back to. So catching the bats attention; now I don’t mean to be insensitive but I would bet cash money that a mom(young in Danny’s case) on the run and hiding out with his kids from an abusive baby daddy is a dime a dozen in Gotham, I just can’t believe that teen pregnancy or young parents let along someone on the run from an abuser is all that unusual in a city like Gotham that the bats would have their attention and pity so utterly caught by Danny.

This is usually where Danny, Dani and Dan being mistaken for metas come in and like making the bats so suspicious and curious of Danny and his kids because the bats think they’re metas and might be dangerous just gives me prejudice. Like I refuse to believe there isn’t a population of metas in Gotham, so the bats intense interest in the Dannie’s is just annoying. So what comes after that is the Batfam stalking Danny both researching him CIA extensively and inserting themselves in his life and trying to manipulate answers out of him. Now we all know in the real world researching and investigating an abuse survivor and escapee like people write Danny being in this way would be a sure fire way of his abuser finding him and his kids but we’re not taking about the real world so we’ll ignore this, we’ll focus on the fact that it’s just creepy and invasive especially since Danny usually doesn’t even do anything criminal which is what the bats should be focused on, you know crime.

Inserting their way into Danny and his kids life is the real thing that bothers me. The bats just come off to me as being invasive and manipulative by forcing their presence and help on someone who didn’t ask for it and doesn’t want it when it’s offered. The bats are purposeful in inserting themselves in his life and not even just in costume but as civilians to, poor Danny who just wants to be left alone and raise his kids can’t escape them. The Bats seemingly unstoppable desire to know Danny secrets and past as if he’s not entitled to have things he wants to forget or doesn’t want anyone to know. Like I said Danny story in this trope is sadly not exactly unique especially when you take the ghost stuff out it, Danny being a young mom who got caught up with an older rich man who took advantage of him and left him running with two children is not something I see being an unsual story in a crime infested corrupted city like Gotham. So the Bats intense interest in Danny and his kids should freak him the fuck out especially when you add him trying to hide his ghostly secrets into it.

What I’m trying to say is we need Danny being freaked out and scared of the Bats who for some reason will not leave him and his kids alone. Like Danny just wants to live an ordinary life with his kids and the Bats keep inserting themselves into it trying to help someone that doesn’t want their help like they’re intitled to do it. Now I love the Batfam but we all know that getting involved with them and heroes in general is just asking for trouble to invaded your life and I feel like this Danny has had enough trouble for a life time. Write a Danny going past fear into annoyance and anger at more people ignoring his no and not staying out of his and his kids lives when Danny tells them too. And instead of Danny putting up with the Bats shit he just uses his ability to create portals to leave to another dimension or world or into the ghost zone or just move into another city quickly and unnoticed.

And I know things with Danny and the kids and Vlad aren’t the misunderstandings(which I love) the Bats think it is but even if it was that doesn’t excuse their behavior. If I was Danny who just escaped a bad situation with my kids I wouldn’t want any of the drama and potential trauma being involved with the Bats and other heroes could bring. And the way that people write no hero in DC seemingly knows the meaning of no I don’t need your help and no you don’t have to save me, doesn’t help my annoyance. The last thing an abuse survivor raising two kids needs is a group of wealthy powerful men trying to play captain save a ho. After all drawing the attention of the Bats will draw the attention of their rouges and that’s the last thing Danny and his kids need.

All in all I just don’t like the stalking, breaking and ignoring of boundaries, lies and manipulation the Bats employ all under the guise of trying to save Danny, Dani and Dan. And this isn’t me dissing any stories just me ranting about some of my problems with this aspect of my favorite DP AU(mom Danny, dad Vlad and kids Dani and Dan).

[ithinkabouttzu]

Easy co.’s reaction to their s/o getting injured

genre! angst; romance

warnings! cursing, anxiety, mentions of blood and death, mentions of war, and sad themes.

description! The easy co. boys reaction to you being injured. (no disrespect to any real vets.)

a/n: I made this pretty vague so you can imagine it however you like 😭 but for each persons I feel like it gets progressively longer. Anyways have fun reading!!

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsparky @sweetxvanixlla (sorry i’ve been forgetting to put the taglist friends!! If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

(gn! reader)

Dick winters: He would be so worried. His mind wouldn’t be on anything else at the moment other than your well-being. He feels like a bad boyfriend because he wasn’t there to protect you :( He gets so nervous and would try his best to be by your side the entire time that you’re getting well.

Lewis Nixon: He freaks out when he finds out that you got hurt. He rushes to wherever you are and demands to see you. When he does finally see you he’s so gentle and soft. He holds your hand and reminds you over and over again that he will always be there for you.

Carwood Lipton: He somehow feels like it’s his fault. There was nothing he could have possibly done to prevent it, but he feels like a crappy boyfriend for it, he apologizes to you multiple times. Because he thinks he should have been there for you.

Joe Toye:He gets so mad. He’s ready to go out and hunt whoever hurt you. He will honestly go out looking for a fight. When he sees you he gets even angrier though because who could do that to you? He’s hard on himself because he thinks he should have been there to protect you.

Joe Liebgott :When he hears that you got hurt he goes out to find you immediately. He doesn’t care if he gets in trouble or not, you are his first priority. He’s definitely pissed but would never show that you, mostly at himself and the person that got you hurt. But he makes sure not to make his feelings show and tend by your side.

Bill Guarnere: He would be completely irate, but instead of going out and trying to find the fucker that hurt you he would check to make sure you were okay and stable first. “I’ll get him doll. Don’t worry” He would most likely be irritable around the guys for the rest of the day or longer because of it.

George Luz: He’s so so worried. He can’t think about anything else but you. He would hope and pray that you’re okay until he can finally see you. When he does he holds your hand to his chest and rubs your hand softly. Telling you over and over again that everything will be okay.

Bull Randleman: He gets so protective. He would find you almost immediately and wouldn’t leave you out of his sight for a second. He’s so patient and caring while you’re in such a vulnerable state. “Trust me. I’ll never let someone do that to you again, darling. I promise.”

Floyd Talbert: He freaks out immediately, the tough guy act would be completely gone when he sees you get hurt. He doesn’t care about anything at the moment other than you and your safety. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not leaving.” He stays so close to you until you get better.

Eugene Roe: He gets there almost immediately and when he sees you he stops. He’s completely frozen for a second because he hates seeing you in such pain. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise.” He prays in his head the entire time while he fixes you up and hopes that you’ll make it through.

Skip Muck: He gets so serious when they tell him that you got hurt. He wants to know everything that happened to you. How it happened and if you would be okay, he would ask roe relentlessly until he got the answer he wanted. When you finally get better enough to see him he’s so sweet and gentle with you.

Don Malarkey : He wants to go find whoever hurt you but he also knows that he needs to be with you in the moment. He gets so so worried and the other guys would have to reassure him that you’re gonna be okay. He swears he can’t lose you. He can’t bear to do anything until he gets the “yes” that you’re okay.

Shifty Powers: When they tell him that you’ve been hurt, you were already taken away before he could see you. He would just sit by himself in silence. Not talking to anyone or engaging in conversation like he usually does. His spark would be gone until they let him know that you were gonna be alright.

Babe Heffron: His reaction would be a mixture of emotions, he would seem very angry and stressed when he finds out that you’re hurt. He feels like a horrible boyfriend because he thinks he could have protected you from being hurt. On the inside, he’s scared and terrified that you won’t make it back to him.

Frank Perconte: He needs to know where you are immediately once the guys let him know that you’ve been hurt. He feels sick to his stomach when they tell him something bad happened to you. He wish he could just take away your pain and you be happy and healthy. He wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep until he knew you were back to normal.

Ronald Speirs: He gets furious. One because he should have been there with you when it happened, and secondly because he believes that it could’ve been prevented if one of the other men were looking out for you. Until you get back from the hospital he would sink himself into paper work to pass time, waiting until he could see you again.

Chuck Grant: He doesn’t care for all of the details, he just needs to know if you’re okay or not. He honestly wishes that it was him getting hurt instead of you. He hopes that you will be okay and he really wishes that you won’t be in the hospital for too long. He would miss you too much :(

Johnny Martin: He honestly just gets pissed at the world. You’re the least deserving to get hurt and now you’re the one who is in such bad condition . He wishes he could do something to make you feel better. He feels like a bad s/o because he can’t immediately take the pain away from you.

Skinny Sisk: He would be in total shock. It never occurred to him that there was a possibility you could get hurt, his plans of you and him making it out perfectly fine vanished from his mind. If he does get the chance to see you he will promise to do anything to help you get better, and to be there for you no matter what.

David Webster : He thinks it’s a horrible joke when the guys tell him that you were hurt and now in the hospital. He’s in denial for a while. Still shocked that you got hurt when you were just talking to him moments ago. He tries to find a way to see you even if he gets in trouble.

Buck Compton: It breaks his heart when he sees you like that, fear would creep up into his mind and overwhelm him until he knew that you were going to be alright. He genuinely thought he lost you for a second and feels so much more protective over you afterwards.

If you enjoyed this, make sure to like or reblog!! Have a wonderful day friends! :))

[bunji-enthusiast]

If I'm not bothering you then can you make a sonic exe x reader?

Where exe is able to leave and go back into the game anytime he wants and reader isn't scared of him at all after the first time they met

Then during a strong storm (no rain just strong winds and loud thunder) the whole house becomes black and exe tries to use that to his advantage to scare reader, with her famous chase around the house as reader is litting some candles on but of course he fails in scaring them so in the end they just end up cuddling together on the couch for the rest of the night

It's very simple it's just what I have on my mind for now sorry XD

Long Into The Abyss — Sonic.EXE

Note || that’s fine! A very neat idea :>

WC || 1,527

Sypnosis || Your a hard person to scare, he wonders how he can even deal with that. But soon enough he gives up on the idea.

The first time you had met him was the only time you truly were scared of your fluffy blue friend ridden with malice and lust for murder, though it was only upon those originally living in his world he had inflicted it upon. He thought it to be interesting to scare the hell out of you when your poor innocent soul came across his corrupted game.

Watching the way you panicked when trying to look for a way out for Tails was amusing, but when he had finally made his infamous appearance upon the screen. That was more amusing than anything, the way you screamed when he did. 

Now utter confusion just simply fills him when he realizes you aren’t as phased by his antics anymore, not even when he appears outside of the game in your house.

“What the hell?” He muttered when you continued playing various different routes of his game, he intentionally had created them on purpose to see if he could scare you again. Even then every time with your attempts to save Tails, Knuckles and even Eggman; you weren’t scared anymore. Just only cursing when you mess up.

“Dammit.” You curse under your breath when you're on one of the death routes, you kept forgetting about this specific one. 

“No no, no no-” 

The death screen appears, detailing the very specific death of your poor character. You wince in an apologetic manner for putting him through it again. “Sorry, I’m trying my best here.” He then decides to appear right next to you, swirls of glitches and blurriness permeating his arrival.  

“Oh hey!” You said, noticing him from the corner of your eye.

“How are you not afraid?” He interjects in a curious yet amused tone, sincerely he was curious to know how you can maintain such a calm and ready manner even while playing. The demonic hedgehog floats around you from behind, while he was albeit rude and murderous at times, he wasn’t about to break your concentration. 

“I dunno?” You shrug, before adding on, “I got used to it I guess.” He raises a brow, seemingly confused with the answer you gave. But only with humans could they actually answer this way, it would only make sense, he concludes. For a few moments he blinks, giving you an incredulous look nonetheless. 

“I see.”

Then he disappears into the air, leaving you alone in your own company once more. You were actually getting used to the bloody hedgehog, in a way. You wonder if he will come back around at all once again. “Too bad.” You shrug, turning your attention completely back on the game. You wanted to see what else you could find while you still were in the game, you thought he was interesting for even creating more routes.

You know this because you remember them all not being there near the beginning, since your first official meeting with the self-proclaimed god. 

“Alright Knuckles, let's see if I can do a better job with you.” You pause in your gait, feeling a little hopeless for continually failing them multiple times in a row. You wonder if you should just actually stop playing the game altogether, you caused them enough pain. 

‘Am I actually causing them pain? They aren’t even real.’ You thought to yourself, but this wasn’t anything new to you. You often just played games for fun, this one in particular wasn’t any different, even if it was a corrupted game file. 

You didn’t know what to do, but just searched far and wide – as extensively as possible. You grew up with them sort of, they were your childhood imaginary friends. There for you so that you didn’t feel so alone at recess, in school or just anywhere in general. Popularity was not your most dominant trait growing up, especially not now. 

But they were your friends, so was he. 

–

The whole storm threw you completely off guard, you just wanted to go back home. You got yourself caught in the middle of it when you dropped off something at a friend’s, you certainly didn’t expect it least of all during your way back home. But you were close to being there, that was the fortunate part of it. 

“Crap-” A strong wind nearly threw you off course, but you immediately corrected yourself and got back on track. Your house was appearing in view, finally you could pull back into the driveway. 

Once in the driveway, you turned your car off and opened the door, you suddenly got the wind knocked out of you when you left the car. You heaved as you caught your breath, trying your best to close the door then ran straight for the door. Even in the midst of it all, you were surprised that you managed to find your way back in the dark. 

The loud sounds of all the thunder didn’t help you though.

You yelped as another loud sound of crackling thunder resounded in your ears, this certainly by no means was a normal storm. This was a very harsh storm, you had to get inside.

“C-Come on,” You shook in the cold outside, fiddling with your key to unlock the door. It was a struggle that demanded concentration and patience, nothing of which you really had right now. “Sonuva- ugh.” Your lips pursed in tight posterity as you finally succeeded in unlocking the door. 

It made you question why you shouldn’t have just gotten one of those security locks, or even the padlocks would’ve just worked fine and dandy. 

You look around at your familiar house, finding the usual safety and comfort in it. Only problem being, the whole house was smothered in darkness. You could’ve sworn you left at least some lights on, you were aware you usually forget to turn them off before you leave, but they really would help in your predicament right now.

Your feet were light, you creeped around the house as if you were afraid something would suddenly jump out at you from beyond the dark. Sometimes you weren’t afraid of the dark, other times you were very afraid of the damned dark. Something flickered in the corner of your peripherals, causing you to jump. 

It felt like the ligament holding your eyes tightly in their sockets will just fall out from the way they had nearly bulged that far out. 

“Jesus christ-”

Only a few minutes had passed now, successfully lighting a few candles around the house. You definitely felt more comfortable and less afraid now. Suddenly you could hear a few thumps resound from behind you, you looked behind your shoulder to see it was him. 

“RUN.”

You absolutely didn’t need to be told twice, not when he was feeling particularly murderous right now. Dying this young was not on your bucket list, you took off and immediately grabbed the lighter to begin lighting every other candle in the house. 

Still, he had spoken while he chased you, “You're fast! Not bad at all.” You could hear that bone-chilling laugh echo throughout the halls. Still, you didn’t allow yourself to falter. 

NOPE, NOPE, NOPE–

You find yourself at the last candle you could find, and light it. You turn around to see the bloody hedgehog standing behind you, no longer possessing a ‘god-fearing’ appearance. He just looked innocent and rather small compared to you. 

He huffs and sighs, shoulders relenting in defeat. “You're impossible, you little gnat.” At his words, you chuckle and nod, crossing your arms with a tilt of your head, “So I’ve been told, can’t scare me easily with all this light now can you?” You stuck your tongue out when you finished speaking. 

“I suppose not.” He snaps with a very clearly annoyed disposition, legs folding into a crossed sitting position while his elbow laid to rest for him to rest his cheek on the palm of his hand. His other one tapped the end of his knee on his other leg. 

You shot a glare at the demon-possessed hedgehog, “Well don’t be like that, we could just maybe be cuddle buddies instead?”

One of his ears flicker at the possible insinuation in your offer, brows furrowing as he replied, “What kind of a ridiculous demand is that?”

Your head rolls around as if you were trying to bite back some sort of desperation spilling from your words, you inhale, mouth opened as you attempt to speak. Then you close your mouth, lips pursing in a bout of self-defeat. 

He notices this, his ears falling flat as he sighs. Voice glitching with a bout of nervousness, “Get on the couch.”

You let out a squeak of excitement, not having to wait for him to repeat it again you had already made your way there. You patted the cushion seat beside you, wanting not to wait another second. He wonders to himself why he even agreed to this in the first place, he wasn’t like this to anyone else who played his game.

So why do you seem so different? You were just another possibility of a victim.

But he gives in, climbing onto the couch with you.

[freeuselandonorris]

☰ for Monday, with the “who did this to you” trope? Love your fics <33

(from the fic ask game)

HI ANON i am so sorry this has taken me a million years to answer, i started weirdly overthinking it??

my understanding of the ‘who did this to you?’ trope is it’s very hurt/comfort-centric, which is not a genre i write very often (hence probably why i overthought this for so long lmao).

if i was to approach a remix of monday from this angle i think i’d like to do it from lando POV and explore more of why he’s so insecure and why it takes him so long to trust that oscar genuinely really likes him and isn’t just looking for a quick fuck to take the edge off. there’d be more of a focus on lando’s past relationships and in particular how he went from being a slightly nerdy kid (like, he looked twelve until he was about twenty) to suddenly being a millionaire heartthrob with a huge social media following. but he also self-describes as a simp (in the lando norris vs slang video) and clearly wants to be in a “real” relationship rather than just fucking about, so i’d look at what happened to him to make him so cautious with his heart.

proooobably this would end up with past dando or carlando? i have a mild aversion to carlos so i’d probably go for fuckboy daniel ngl.

i think it’d take oscar quite a long time to actually get round to asking lando what happened — partly because he’s got a bit of an attitude of “well, lando will tell me in his own time if it’s important to him” but also because there’s a bit of him that doesn’t really want to know, especially because he’s got a pretty good idea it involves another driver. he’d probably bring it up pretty idly, in the end — lando would make some veiled comment about how netflix would have creamed their collective pants if they’d known the half of it while oscar’s scrolling past DTS trying to find something to watch, and oscar would very casually… actually, y’know what.

Lando feels Oscar go still next to him and mentally kicks himself. Might’ve known Oscar wouldn’t let that one drop.

“So are you, like.” Oscar wets his lips and shifts on the bed, curling up so Lando’s tucked further into his chest. Lando presses himself back, drawing Oscar’s arm around him. “I dunno. Did something happen? With Dan.”

Lando closes his eyes, considers his options. It’s tempting to squirm back against Oscar’s body, press his arse into his crotch and slip Oscar’s hand under the hem of his T-shirt until he forgets the line of questioning, forgets he was saying anything at all. It’s mad, really, the way he responds: Lando only has to pull his shirt up, bite his lip a certain way, and he’ll have Oscar distracted and reaching for him, even now. It’s been months. Lando’s experienced it before, that first flush of desire when he can use his body to control how someone feels about him. It rarely lasts, though, once the novelty wears off.

Which is sort of the point.

He sighs, aware it sounds a bit huffy, and picks up his phone so he can flick through his notifications while he speaks. “I mean, I guess? It was just stupid, though.”

Oscar breathes behind him, slow and deliberate. He hums into Lando’s hair, strokes a thumb over the ticklish spot on Lando’s waist, the dip just above the ridge of muscle that delineates his hip.

Lando swipes through notifs from Discord, Instagram, iMessage, WhatsApp, Reddit, Sky Sport. Dismissing each without seeing it. He laughs, and it comes out all wrong, harsh in the back of his throat and defensive. God. Wet as fuck. “It was just — I mean, he was fucking miserable, you saw him. So I guess he just wanted a pick-me-up, y’know.”

“Right,” Oscar says, voice unreadable. He’s so fucking blank sometimes. Lando fights the urge to turn round and scrutinise his face, opens his emails instead and starts deleting anything that doesn’t look vital.

“He said,” Lando says, aiming to deliver it as a joke. “‘I’m straight, but I bet you suck dick like a girl anyway’. Like. What does that even mean?”

Oscar’s thumb stills, just for a moment, then resumes its slow path. “I know that’s offensive, but I can’t tell if it’s sexist or homophobic or both.”

Lando makes a disgruntled sound of agreement. “Yeah, well, whatever. It was — whatever. Wasn’t anything.”

“You said,” Oscar says mildly. “But I can see why you’d… Why it’d make you cautious.”

Lando sighs. Thinks of Luisa, showing him screenshots, her face streaked with tears. Watching the comments roll in, badly spelled threats he didn’t even bother reporting. The way Carlos never quite relaxed around him once people started tagging them in stupid ship videos. Googling how do you make someone sign an nda locked in an unfamiliar bathroom, mouth sour with vodka, head spinning. Waking up at 5am in lockdown, Max hyperventilating next to him. The girl from Raya he’d sent flowers to, trying to do the thing properly and be romantic, only to find she’d blocked him ten minutes after he got the Your package was successfully delivered email.

“It wasn’t him,” Lando says, locking his phone and putting it face down on the nightstand. He turns, tangling his legs between Oscar’s and leaning in to nip at his jaw, breathing in the familiar smell of Oscar’s basic aftershave. Oscar's arms tighten around him. His cheeks curve into a smile beneath Lando's mouth. “It doesn’t matter.”

[ridhearts]

“Wanna Watch My Favorite Show With Me?” {Scarabia - Diasomnia}

Basically: would they watch ghost hunting shows with you?

Ever since I watched my first episode of ghost adventures, I've been an avid fan. I know it's not real but I just have so much fun turning out the lights and watching these ghost hunters roam around and "talk to ghosts." I have such a fun time!!!

Also I know ghosts exist in twst but when they say "it's not real" think of it as them saying that the shows aren't actually talking to ghosts/that's not how ghosts act/etc. Ghosts just being your friends kind of throws off the vibe of ghost shows but i'm just trying to have fun ok

!! information !!

characters: kalim + jamil / vil + rook + epel / idia + ortho (platonic) / malleus + lilia + silver + sebek

reader: gn!

cw: none

masterlists ⇿ requests    

Part One (Heartslabyul - Octavinelle)

• • • • • • • Kalim Al-Asim

"Hey Kalim, do you wanna-" "YES."

Had no idea what you were going to propose but said yes immediately anyway because, in Kalim's humble opinion, you have THE BEST ideas. It takes a while to get him to stop bouncing in his seat and confirm that he's down to watch a potentially scary ghost show. He still says yes!!

Kalim is the type of guy to get scared every. time. at anything even remotely paranormal but still go back and try to watch it again. However, he has a brief moment of clarity and, when Jamil asks with a huff why he's hauling so much junk food to his room, Kalim only answers that he's watching a show with you. Jamil knows something is up but decides to leave it be- "and if you forget about the food in there and get bugs, you're cleaning up the mess."

Kalim kinda spaces out during the first half of the show. He talks to you a few times, but if you prefer to watch then he'll get the hint and munch on popcorn or play with your hair or something. (Yes he wipes his hands first! He cares u 😊)

During the scary part, though, after jumping far more times than he's ready to admit, Kalim ends up clutching a pillow and curled into your side, hiding his face and peeking out. You ask him what's going on - it's not like it's a slasher film and there's a chase scene going on - but then the investigators "capture a shadow figure" and suddenly Kalim is curled into you again.

Unless you want Jamil pissed that Kalim bothered him because he was scared, you're spending the night. Kalim, for as scared as he is, falls asleep relatively fast. You're stuck in his arms for the night btw - if you get up for water, Kalim WILL wake up and follow you silently, only to scare you so YOU'RE the one screaming in fear and waking up the dorm.

• • • • • • • Jamil Viper

At first, Jamil doesn't have much of a reaction. He doesn't care much for what's on television these days (not that he has any time to watch it anyway) and ghosts just don't intrigue him like that. However, it's an excuse to get away from Kalim, and he really does appreciate the moments he gets to spend with you. A quiet moment of quality time is hardly a horrible way to spend the evening.

Jamil can sit and watch quietly, but you wind up only half paying attention to the show and talking about your day with him. If you're really curious about the ghost stories, he'll remember the location so you can look it up together later.

The investigation itself is much the same, but you both pay a little more attention to it just because it's more interesting. If you wanna poke fun, that's fine. Jamil finds your wit charming. However, if you're more the gullible type…

He's planning ways to scare you. 100%. Jamil is stealthy and he knows Ramshackle like the back of his hand at this point. He'll be able to make a room more draft, send papers fluttering, or open every cabinet in the kitchen without you even realizing he left. And if that means that he has to tell Kalim he'll be staying longer than intended and just turn his ringer on so he can keep YOU safe…well, then, that's just the way it'll have to be, hm?

• • • • • • • Vil Schoenheit

See…Vil wants to narrow his eyes at you and scoff at your childish taste in entertainment. But…with a schedule as busy as his, he tends to jump at any opportunity to spend time with you. Far be it from him to miss out on some quality time just because you want to watch a bad movie or something.

It does come with a catch, though - you're having a mini spa day while you watch. Face masks, dry hair treatments, foot masks, painting each other's nails…that's all stuff you can do while watching a show, right? He'll make smoothies for the two of you, even if you've already had one today, as a treat :)

If you want to actually watch the show, he'll keep his voice low and do his best not to keep your head turned away from the screen for too long while he applies your face mask. If you don't mind idle conversation, though, he'll happily fill in any boring spaces with some conversation.

In fact, he'll even pause the show if you get too involved in a conversation and by the time you actually finish the show, what's this? It's rather late…hm, well this was meant to be a surprise, but he does have a new set of pajamas for you. Why don't you stay the night?

Won't try to scare you on purpose, but he does look like a ghost with his white robe and white scrub mask…when you scream after happening upon him, he'll just mime rubbing his temple (so he doesn't get the mask all over his hands) and wonder why he always manages to scare people like this…

• • • • • • • Rook Hunt

He'll blink at you once, twice, undoubtedly wondering why you care about fake ghosts when you're friends with real ghosts, but then he'll throw caution to the wind and say "But of course! Fret not, mom coeur, for I will protect you!"

Hopefully you invited Rook over for a Halloween Special on a chilly night, because he is very warm and will not stand for being anywhere except glued to your side. True to his most obvious eccentricities, he can find enjoyment in any part of the show; the local legends people are sharing, the eerie abandoned buildings, whatever! Rook wouldn’t get scared even if he believed in the ghost ‘evidence,’ but he can pretend he believes in the ‘evidence’ and have a fun time!

He might try to scare you a few times, but it’ll end up more as play chase around the house until he inevitably catches you. However, if you’re scared, Rook won’t demean you, of course! He said he’d protect you and he’ll keep his word until he dies. You may not have reason to fear, but the real ghosts living in Ramshackle are steering clear from Rook for the night, just to be safe.

• • • • • • • Epel Felmier

Heheheheh, you’re asking him because you’re scared, ain’t ya? You can agree or insist that you’re not, but Epel’s already got it in his head that this is another chance for him to prove how manly he is!

He absolutely expects lots of snacks. Being invited to Ramshackle gives him a rare opportunity to eat whatever he wants without Vil’s interference! If he has any extreme requests he’ll definitely pay you back/give you the money to get it, but by now you should have some of his favorite staples in the cabinet, right?

Honestly…I can see him falling for any jumpscares, but he doesn’t get scared at the show itself? He’s convinced it’s baby stuff and now that he knows the Ramshackle ghosts, there’s not much for him to be afraid of! If you’re scared, he won’t find out until he actually calls the show baby stuff, but he feels bad immediately after and tries his best to comfort you! It’s a bit awkward, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

Vil probably didn’t give him authorization to stay the night. But if you’re really scared…Epel supposes he can deal with a ridiculous punishment in exchange for some more time with you. (Rook, while supervising his punishment, will croon over the things people do for love, purposely flustering Epel for his own entertainment.)

• • • • • • • Idia Shroud

E-eh?! You’re…inviting him to do something? With you?? (So you remembered……..the two of you really are dating and it wasn’t an elaborate dream…)

He’ll sigh and mutter something about “normie shows,” but since you’re willing to listen about his interests, he can indulge you once a week to watch a ghost show. His room has the perfect ambience for that sort of thing, too: dimly lit from all the monitors and glowing trinkets, but the overhead light is never one. There’s plenty of cushions and blankets to cuddle up with, too…

He doesn’t get scared. At all. He’s played horror games scarier than what’s on screen. But he doesn’t say anything and listens if you have anything to say while it plays!

…Or, he half-listens. Honestly, he couldn’t say anything negative about the show if he wanted to. He’s instead suddenly realized how close the two of you are and how smoothly he suggested you sit this close and you readily agreed and - suddenly you’re watching your ghost show bathed in a flustered pink lighting.

This does give him an idea, though….wanna play whatever the TWST version of phasmophobia is later?

• • • • • • • Ortho Shroud (Platonic)

“Ghost hunters? But I can bring up many sources that debunk the evidence on those kinds of shows-”

Even if he doesn’t particularly care for the idea of ghosts, he’s excited to be invited!!! Ok, you need to tell him that the charm is in having fun and pretending this is a real phenomenon, but once that’s out of the way he’s totally excited to spend time with you! Should he ask Idia to come along, too?

Ortho probably doesn’t need to study what makes the show scary, but he will study how scary you find it. He’s subtly tracking your heart rate and other vitals, trying to see if they jump at anything or if your fear centers in your brain activate at the scary voices. He’s just curious!

Hopefully, you don’t get super scared by the show. If he has to leave and you’re shaking, he’ll feel really bad. Don’t worry, Prefect, you LIVE with ghosts! They’re nice! You’ll be fine!

• • • • • • • Malleus Draconia

!!! As expected, he’s pleased as punch to participate in whatever manner of recreation you want to introduce to him. However, he must first ask, whatever is wrong with your typical evening walks? You haven’t grown bored of them, have you?

He teleports to Ramshackle exactly when you told him to arrive. Even though you told him he could dress comfortably, he’s still in his school uniform. You feel terribly underdressed, and wonder for a moment if perhaps the nice, tailored, standard school uniform really IS the most comfortable and least expensive item he owns. If you try to say you feel underdressed, he’s quick to say that you look as stunning as always. Considering you’re wearing an old pair of sweatpants from the school lost and found, you doubt his judgment but don’t say anything about it.

LOVES the show if they’re in some old building. He’ll be staring in awe at the architecture and silently listing places he wants to visit for himself. He also thinks it’d be fun to roam around the places at night. It’s 50/50 on whether or not he understands that the screen is green because of night vision - if he doesn’t, he’s probably imagining a firefly-lit walk w you <3 in a haunted penitentiary

I feel like this would be the first time Malleus has experienced such a casual date. He’ll sit still as stone and be super tense, as if he’s taking some sort of etiquette test. If you lean on him, he’ll make you comfortable! But he acts as if he hasn’t been on a date with you before at first.

Wouldn’t dream of scaring you on purpose!.......the first time. But when Lilia brings it up and points out that Malleus could then play the part of your protector…maybe he suddenly decides he wants to watch the next episode with you, too.

• • • • • • • Lilia Vanrouge

Is IMMEDIATELY down. Definitely intends to laugh at all the shenanigans on screen.

He’s bringing over a mountain of snacks for the two of you to share! And besides, if he’s already hanging out with you, why not add a few movies to the mix and make the night a full entertainment binge fest!

Isn’t specifically interested in the history or anything, though he will pepper in some facts and “correct” the people on screen when they’re wrong. Choosing to trust him is a gamble, but then again, so was pursuing him romantically…

Absolutely does laugh at the dramatics while they’re investigating the building. It’s hard to be scared when he’s having the time of his life right next to you, but maybe that’s a good thing if you’re normally the skittish type?

Except…he’s definitely spooking you after the show (and the extra movies he brought) are over. Most of the time he just goes for a classic jumpscare, but you’re almost certain he’s opening doors and windows he knows you’ll walk by or breathing down the back of your neck. Still…watching the movies made him stay pretty late, so maybe he wouldn’t mind spending the night…?

• • • • • • • Silver

Sure :) Anything you want! Although, there’s no guarantee he won’t fall asleep during the show…

Silver might try to stay awake by downing as much soda as you have on hand, or engaging you in light conversation while the investigators are learning the history of the building. He’s paying attention, and he doesn’t want to interrupt your show! He just wants to stay awake since it was something you wanted to share with him

If you want to focus, he agrees…and totally does fall asleep moments later. He didn’t mean to! He was just relaxed next to you, is all!

He still feels bad, but if you forgive him, Silver will try to let it go that he fell asleep on your date again. But, to make it up for you, he’ll stay as long as you’d like and protect you if you’re scared!

…you’re not? Oh. Then…he’s still pretty tired, actually. Why don’t you both just fall asleep right here?

• • • • • • • Sebek Zigvolt

WHAT FOOLISH THINGS ARE YOU FILLING YOUR BRAIN WITH DURING YOUR PRECIOUS SPARE TIME, HUMAN?!?

Even if you’ve been dating for a while, Sebek finds it difficult to just…accept your invitation. He has to do it under a guise of “making sure you aren’t filling your mind with useless information,” or “ensuring you keep to a reasonable sleep schedule.”

Still, once you actually get him to Ramshackle, he mellows out fairly quickly. I mean, he’s still the same old mildly-ridiculous Sebek that you know in love, but he isn’t going to push you away when you purposely sit right next to him and lean into him before the show even starts. You really do have no shame…

Sebek watches with rapt attention, not wanting to interrupt your show. The only time he’ll interject is if you’re saying something to him, or if the show says something that contradicts one of Lilia’s obviously true facts that he’s told Sebek. Other than that, he’s way more invested than you thought he’d be.

Listen. Sebek is a brave knight (or will be), but he’s also very gullible. He’s probably going to wind up falling for all the shows’ tricks and “evidence.” However, that’s not going to stop him from going around your dorm like he’s scared something will jump out at him! Of course not!

Ignore the fact that he pushes you behind him as you walk from room to room. It’s sweet that he’s protecting you, if you can hold in your laughter over there being nothing to protect you from.