#like half of the x reader blogs despite enjoying x reader content

[honeynclove]

sometimes I block ppl and for literally no reason????

[ariesangelxo]

okay so i was thinking something like rafe always gives like reader butt pats and she’s gotten used to it so much that she can’t go a day without it. so one day rafe doesn’t do it and she automatically thinks he’s mad at her but rafes not he just does the but pats without thinking. so then their whole day goes along with them fighting abt small things till rafe asks her what’s wrong and they make up🤗

🌶️anon!

rafe cameron x fem reader

minors & ageless blogs dni

cw: a bit of angst, a lil bit of comfort in the end. some suggestive content, spanking, reader is an overthinker, reader also isn’t good about talking abt her feelings

a/n: i’m sorry this took so long! i hope i did this justice <33

being by rafe’s side was ninety percent of your daily routine. he’d asked you to move into tannyhill not long after ward passed, and being his loving girlfriend that doted on his every step, you did.

you couldn’t have been happier to spend nearly all of your time with him. rafe treated you like a princess. despite his rough reputation around outerbanks, you knew him to be the most loving man you’d ever met.

he could tell when you were upset, the small tells of you avoiding eye contact and biting down on your bottom lip made it obvious to him when you needed him most. he was usually able to get you back to your sweet and happy self with just focusing his attention on you. his touch, his voice, his presence, it comforted you in ways nothing else could.

rafe always gave you small pats on your ass throughout the day. it was something you’d grown accustomed to and you adored it. it was one of those little things he did that unknowingly made your heart swell. his casual dominance allowed you to turn your brain off, every thought in your pretty head revolved around him.

today, however, had been a bit different. it started with him not giving you the normal pat when you got out of bed this morning. you didn’t think too much of it, figuring he was probably concerned with work-related emails on his phone.

then it was the lack of attention while you made him breakfast. you enjoyed your small housewife-like duties. rafe walked into the kitchen, leaning his back against the granite countertop. but when he didn’t come up behind you and place a sweet kiss against your neck while aggressively claiming your ass as his, a slight pout formed on your lips. rafe was too engrossed in his phone to notice it though.

when you put a plate of food in front of him, he barely looked up to give you a half smile. you quickly went back to busying yourself in the kitchen, trying to keep your mind away from the anxious thoughts beginning to swirl around.

much to your dismay, washing the dishes wasn’t helping. did you do something wrong? could you have said something last night that, unintentionally of course, upset him? were you being too clingy? was it really just work?

you let out a deep sigh as you finished drying off a frying pan. “you okay?” rafe called out to you.

you turned to look at him, placing a small smile on your face that was definitely not genuine. “yeah, ‘m fine.”

he didn’t look satisfied with your answer, but he didn’t push any further. you didn’t want to share any of your current thoughts. if it was really only him being stressed with the business, you would feel bad for assuming otherwise. you didn’t want to overthink small things, but it was one of your unhealthy habits.

shortly after eating and cleaning up, you were upstairs in your shared room getting ready to go to the country club with rafe. he’d made plans a few days ago to go golfing with topper and kelce, naturally, you were going. rafe brought you with him almost everywhere.

you put on a short white tennis skirt, one that you knew drove him wild, along with a tight pink tank top. as you finished applying your layer of lip gloss, you looked yourself over in the mirror. there was no way rafe could resist giving you a firm slap on the ass when it looked so good in the tiny skirt.

“c’mon, kid. don’t have all day here.” he called out from the bottom of the stairs.

“‘m coming,” you responded, grabbing your small pink purse and heading down.

you walked out of the bedroom with a big smile on your face, nearly skipping down the hall. once you got to the top of the stairs, rafe looked up, giving you a quick smirk.

he held the door open for you on the way out of the house, and of course as you got into his truck, but still hadn’t given you a single pat today. you were genuinely beginning to grow concerned at this point. you could brush off not getting them when you got out of bed or while making breakfast, but when he didn’t give you one while you walked out of the front door, swaying your hips, or stepping up into his truck, purposely bending over so your mini skirt rode up? that was extremely unusual.

you buckled yourself in, leaning your knees closer to the door than him and stared out the window.

“you have an attitude?” he questioned you, his tone having a bit of edge to it.

“nope,” you replied, popping the ‘p’, “‘m fine.”

you glanced over just in time to see rafe rolling his eyes. he didn’t verbally say anything, but his actions spoke loud enough for you.

you crossed your arms, childishly leaning further into the door to put what distance you could between the two of you. rafe let out a sigh, but still didn’t say anything.

the short drive to the country club was filled with tension. it was uncomfortably silent, neither of you speaking a word to each other.

rafe stepped out of the truck when you arrived, slamming his door shut a bit harder than usual. he still came to your side though, opening up the door for you to step out. he once again didn’t offer any touch to you. your heart sank, you truly didn’t know what was going on.

he grabbed his clubs from the back, walking ahead of you to go meet topper and kelce on the course. you followed behind, slow and stubbornly, your arms crossed and your brow furrowed with a pout on your lips.

you sat in the passenger seat, legs and arms crossed as your manicured nails tapped against your bicep in an irritated manner. you looked cranky, and you knew it based on the looks topper and kelce gave rafe when you initially followed behind him. you usually wore a bright smile and clung to rafe’s side, excitedly greeting the boys.

“what’s goin’ on with her?” you heard topper ask rafe. he attempted to keep his volume low so you wouldn’t hear, but with his naturally loud voice, he failed miserably.

your eyebrow quirked up. you were curious to hear rafe’s response.

“no fuckin’ clue.” rafe grumbled out, trying to focus on his swing. you rolled your eyes, it was his fault you were in a bad mood. he’s the one that’s been neglecting you since you woke up.

topper glanced over at you, letting out a slight laugh at your pouting. rafe’s eyes followed, he pinched his nose in annoyance.

he walked up to the cart where you were sitting, crossing his arms as he looked down at you.

“okay, kid. what’s goin’ on? why are you pouting?”

you let a small scoff out, furrowing your brows, “don’t act so interested now just because your friends noticed.”

rafe was taken aback at your tone. you never spoke to him with an attitude like that. his eyes narrowed, looking at you in a way that made you feel minuscule.

“you can lose that little attitude you’ve got goin’ on, now.” his voice was stern, dripping with annoyance. you wanted to disappear, you were so frustrated that he didn’t understand he was the reason for your attitude.

you looked away from him, pulling your sunglasses over your eyes as you said nothing and stared forward, not particularly focusing on anything.

rafe muttered a “whatever.” before walking back to where topper and kelce were.

you did feel bad for having an attitude, but the way you felt like you were being rejected by him made you want to shut down. it made you want to disappear from the face of the earth for a while. you felt embarrassed, upset, and now overwhelmed with your brain going into overthinking.

you didn’t say a word to any of the men as they played through the course. not even when rafe would get into the drivers seat and bring you two to the next hole.

you instead spent that time biting down harshly on the inside of your lip, fighting to keep the tears of frustration from falling past your eyes. you tried to focus on literally anything else, but the constant noise of thoughts swirling through your brain made it impossible.

they’d wrapped up the last hole. you heard rafe saying something about possibly meeting them around the country club after for lunch.

you refused to look up at him, even when he started heading your way. you missed the way he wore a half smirk as he looked at your pouting figure. he knew you were upset about something, but you weren’t great about vocalizing your feelings.

“d’you want to go back to the restaurant for lunch?”

“don’t care,” you muttered out, looking down at your nails as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“well, your options are either that or we can go home. your choice, kid.” he wasn’t feeding into your baiting tone, and that just irritated you further.

“said i don’t care, rafe.”

“s’okay. we can go home and you can take a nap, because you clearly need one.” he rounded the golf cart, hopping into the driver’s seat as he brought you back to the entrance.

you got out before he could, beginning to storm your way to his truck.

“hey! slow the fuck down. you know you don’t walk into a busy ass parking lot without me.” he called out to you.

you halted, but didn’t turn around to acknowledge him. you mumbled an “okay, asshole.” under your breath, not thinking he’d hear.

boy, were you wrong. it took a matter of seconds for rafe to be in front of you, one of his large hands squishing your cheeks as he moved jaw up to look at him, “wanna say that again, princess?” he said challengingly.

you didn’t respond. wrong answer. his nostrils flared as he squinted at you. he gripped your wrist, harshly dragging you to where the truck was parked. he brought you around to the passenger door where it blocked onlookers from the country club from seeing you.

“i don’t know what the fuck’s goin’ on with you today. but i will not put up with this shit in front of others. you know i- i have a reputation to uphold here, right? you think it looks good on me for others to see my girl being a bitch towards me, huh?”

your lip wobbled as tears began to fill your eyes. you wanted to look away, to look anywhere besides his mean stare, but his rough hand on your face wouldn’t allow it.

“no!” you cried out, “just- just wanted your affection. dunno why you’re mad at me.” you whimpered out, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

“kid. why do you think i’m mad at you?” he quirked an eyebrow inquisitively.

“b-because you haven’t given me a single pat today! ‘nd you give me them everyday!”

he closed his eyes, taking a deep inhale to calm himself.

“you think i’m mad at you because i haven’t smacked your ass today?”

when he said it like that, it sounded stupid. but it felt like so much more than that to you.

he rolled his eyes, using his hands to wipe away the tears on your face. he made sure you were looking at him, “sweetheart, ‘m not mad at you. i’ve been busy with some clients that aren’t following through on their payments today.”

you looked at him hopefully, hiccuping as you brought your hands up on his.

“do you pinky promise you’re not mad at me?” you asked him softly, holding out one of your pinkies.

“pinky promise. but you’re not gonna be able to sit tomorrow with the spanking you’re getting when we get home.” he reached out his pinky, stifling back a smirk as he intertwined them.

“m’kay!” you responded happily, the tears stopping and a smile appearing on your face.

he opened up the passenger door, holding his hand out to help you get in before he gave your bottom a firm pat and buckled you in.

he chuckled to himself as he rounded the truck, “all that attitude because she didn’t get her ass smacked, huh?”

[luvvsessed]

I Really(x6) Like You [M]

And I want you, do you want me, do you want me too?

-> Yet another blind date set up by Mingi. At least this Yunho guy seems nice.

Yunho x F!Reader [1st POV]

6,574 words

Genre: smut, romance, blind date

warnings under the cut

note: my first fic on this blog, hope all my yunho stans enjoy it! had a great time writing it! please, dont hesitate to tell me your thoughts 💕

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and in no way an attempt to be a true depiction of anyone. It’s just fun!

warnings: smut, explicit content, swearing, dirty talk, dick pics (consensual), fingering, oral [m & f], slight choking (like very slight), unprotected sex (dont do that), multiple orgasms,

"Um, hello. Are you Yunho?" I asked the man sitting at the table, and I was taken aback when he looked up and smiled at me. He was very handsome, a cute smile on his face as he rushed to stand up.

"Ah, yes, it's nice to meet you!" he said, holding his hand out to me as I gawked at him.

He was fucking tall as hell!

"Um! Yeah, it's nice to meet you too!” I replied awkwardly, giving him my name as I shook his hand. "I'm sorry I'm late, I-"

"No, no, I was just early," Yunho quickly waved me off, looking at his phone. "See? Five minutes before the reservation time." He laughed some and I smiled at him with a nod.

"Well, you're right about that."

Like a gentleman, Yunho pulled my seat out for me, carefully pushing it in as I sat down at the table. He quickly sat back down across from me, a smile on his face.

"So... you've known Mingi since middleschool, huh?" I started out and Yunho nodded.

"Yeah, we go way back."

Mingi was the one who set up this blind date, despite my protests. He was my roommate and very much fucking nosy and annoying when it came to my love life. He had tried to hook me up before with his other friends, but those didn't work-- at all. Why he still tries was a mystery to me. I had only agreed to go on one more date set up by him to shut him up.

At least Yunho seemed nice. And normal.

The date went on as any normal date would. Yunho was just your regular average guy living an average life. He liked to go running a few times a week, and always liked to plan one small trip every year. He was polite, had a good sense of humor and a stunning smile that almost blinded me a few times.

It definitely wasn't the worst date I've ever been on. Just regular degular, but I couldn't be mad at that. I could see why he and Mingi were such long lasting friends. He was a good guy.

He even paid for the dinner, not even giving me a chance to grab my wallet before he handed the waitress a black credit card. He just returned my glare with a cheeky grin.

"I don't know why you're so mad I wouldn't let you pay," Yunho said with an amused laugh as we walked out into the parking lot. "Isn't it the gentlemanly thing to do?"

"Well... I could have at least paid half," I mumbled. "I have the money for it."

Yunho let out a short laugh. "No one said you didn't. It's fine. I wanted to pay. Next time, you can pay if it means so much to you."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Next time?"

Yunho's smile faltered a bit. "Y-yeah? I mean, I think you're great and I'd like to go out again. Unless...?"

I quickly shook my head. "No, no, I didn't mean it like that, Yunho. I'd like to hang out again. I think you're cool."

"Oh," Yunho let out a relieved breath before he laughed sheepishly, his cheeks growing red. "I got worried for a moment!"

"Awh!" I exclaimed, laughing a bit though I felt bad. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you! I was just surprised because the dates Mingi had set me up on never really... went well."

Yunho grimaced. "His heart is in the right place, but he's too trusting."

I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you got that right," I said before I smiled up at Yunho. "So... wanna do this again next Saturday? Maybe lunch?"

"Lunch? Is dinner okay? I'm usually in the studio during the morning and lunch hour on Saturdays."

I looked at him questionably. "Studio?"

"Yeah, the dance studio. Did I not tell you I danced?"

"No, you did not," I said, giving Yunho a look before I smiled. "But I just figured out our next date..."

♡ ♡ ♡

The following Saturday, I walked into the small dance studio at the time Yunho told me to come. It was after the practice he had with his group, so we would have the studio to ourselves for an hour before the next group showed up for their practice.

I liked Yunho. We texted throughout the week and he honestly was just a cool vibe. Though I was unsure of where this would lead us. He definitely gave off that... just a good friend energy, was easy to talk to and just be with. Could I see myself with him romantically?

Or even sexually?

"You know, I've never actually been inside a dance studio before," I said, doing a pose in the large mirror that lined one of the walls. I could see Yunho standing behind me, giving me a peace sign and I laughed. It was a good distraction to how good he fucking looked in a black tank top and gray sweat pants.

What the actual fuck.

"I love this place. It's like a second home to me," Yunho said, a happy look on his face and I loved that for him.

"How long have you been dancing?"

"Hmmm, middle school, maybe? It's where I met Mingi." Yunho answered, his sneakers squeaking against the floor as he walked over to a table pressed against a wall. "I've been practicing a dance lately... Can I show you?"

"Oh?" I blinked in surprise before getting excited. "I would love to see it!"

He shot me a devastating grin over his shoulder and I almost regretted saying yes. There was no doubt that Yunho was super attractive, but seeing him get into his element as he got ready in the middle of the floor had taken my breath away.

He was already warmed up from his earlier practice, but watching him roll his neck and his arms had my mouth going dry, and the way his usually warm brown eyes turned serious and steady as the beat started to rev through the speakers had bumps form on my skin.

What the fuck?

Who was this?

No man as tall as Yunho should be able to move the way he does, but here he was, the heavy beat vibrating through the floors, spurring his movements, the confident way he danced just making me gape at him in awe. Sweat formed on his forehead, sneakers squeaking repeatedly as the song went on.

And his face? This man knew he was hot fucking shit; his lips curled up in a smirk that would make any woman drop her panties. There was nothing sexier than someone who knew what the fuck they were doing, and had the passion for doing it. It oozed out into the open, almost suffocating me.

The song soon ended, and it went quiet save for Yunho breathing heavily, pushing his hair away from his face. I was sitting on the floor, just stunned in amazement before I suddenly spoke.

"You are so fucking hot, dude."

Yunho barked out a laugh, chest still heaving as he looked down at me with a smirk. "I take it you enjoyed it by how you was eye fucking me the entire time?"

My face heated up. "I- no I wasn't!"

Yunho laughed again, going to turn off the music that had continued on his phone. "But seriously, what did you think?"

I was still sputtering, totally taken aback from his rather scandalous statement. "It was really good, honestly," I finally managed to say. "You're a really good dancer, Yunho."

"Thank you," Yunho smiled, blushing a bit. "And you also think I'm hot. That's a plus for me today."

I just groaned. "Shut up. You're not hot at all."

Yunho scoffed, tilting his head. "Didn't you not just say that a few minutes ago? I do recall you were looking at me rather intently during my dance too..." Yunho tapped his chin mockingly and I scoffed back at him, barely even noticing the shift in the air.

"And what if I was? I was appreciating a talented dancer." I stood up on my feet, putting my hands on my hips. "What are you going to do about it?"

My heart thudded in my chest as Yunho stood there for a moment, just staring down at me as his eyes shifted yet again. He licked his lips. "I could kiss you like I wanted to do back at the restaurant."

Surprise made me gasp. Oh. Well.

"Why didn't you?" I asked, licking my lips. His dark eyes flickered to them.

"I am a gentleman."

"Hmm," I hummed. "You paid for dinner and let me keep my honor. Plus points for you. You truly are the modern gentleman society needs."

An amused smile graced his handsome face. "I try," he started, stepping toward me. I didn't move. "It's hard sometimes."

"How so?" He got closer.

"Well," he hummed, stepping up to me, looking down on me with eyes so full of heat, I immediately started to sweat. "When I look at you, the images in my head wouldn't be one a gentleman would have."

Chills went down my spine and I had to force my brain to work so I could speak. "Please elaborate."

"Back at dinner... you were done up so prettily. I couldn't help but imagine how it would be to have your perfect makeup ruined with tears as I make you cum over and over again." My eyes went wide, but he continued to speak. "To rip your stockings, push your panties to the side and spear you open in the back seat of my car."

"Yunho..."

"Or now," he licked his lips. "I'll make you say my name over and over again, fucking you against this mirror in ways no gentleman would." He lifted his hand up and for the first time, he actually touched me, his big hand pressed against the side of my neck. "And don't even get me started on how I would love to just..." He boldly wrapped that same hand around my throat, not applying any pressure, but it was enough to have me stop breathing anyway, my heart thudding in my chest so hard and so loud, I'm sure he could hear it.

My mouth had gone dry, and I knew I wouldn't be able to speak even if my brain had stopped fizzling out. Electricity thrummed in the air, Yunho and I not taking our eyes off of each other, his hand still wrapped around my neck. The tension was thick and heady, and I opened my mouth-

"Bro, that was sick!"

The speed in which Yunho launched himself away from me should be studied, him moving to grab his phone while the group of rowdy teenagers rushed into the studio for their practice. Finally gaining my bearings, I quickly followed Yunho out as he threw his duffle bag over his shoulder, his broad shoulders tensed up as we stepped outside.

I had driven my car here, and was more than ready to drive home and take the coldest shower in history. I dug into my purse for my keys, gasping when Yunho grabbed my wrist.

"Look," he spoke, his voice raspy. It seemed that he had finally gotten a hold of himself. "What happened inside..."

"It's okay," I said, looking at him and licking my lips.

"... this was only our second date."

He was worried, and I thought that was sweet. I smiled. "And it was a nice one," I told him, patting his chest and I grinned when he took in a shuddering breath, the heat in his eyes returning.

"Are you... sure?"

"Mmhmm," I nodded. "Just made me excited for our next one."

Yunho looked relieved. "Where would you like to go?"

"Let me cook dinner for us this time," I suggested and Yunho looked at me in shock.

Before he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. It was a quick kiss, but full of so much promise, it made me dizzy.

"I look forward to it."

♡ ♡ ♡

"Mingi...?"

"Hm?" Mingi hummed, not looking up from his phone as he texted... whoever the hell he was texting.

"How big is Yunho's dick?"

Mingi choked on air, almost dropping his phone as he nearly broke his damn neck whipping his head around to look at me from his spot on the couch. "What?!"

"I'd figured, since you and him are around the same height, and you got a pretty decent sized dick, that it might be the same for him... right?"

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?! He's your friend!"

"I'm not in the habit of looking at my friend's dick!" Mingi retorted, completely exasperated. "Girl, what the fuck?"

"Ugh!" I groaned. "You're useless!"

"Don't be fucking rude," Mingi huffed. "Just ask him."

"Oh yeah!" I replied sarcastically. "I'll just text him to show me his dick. That'll go over real well." I rolled my eyes. What a stupid suggestion.

...

Later that night as I laid in bed, I grabbed my phone, opening my text thread with Yunho. I hesitated as I held my thumbs over my keyboard, mulling over what to even say.

me:[11:43:25] hey... can i ask you a question that may or may not make you block me and never want to speak to me again?

yunho🧐:[11:45:00] im sure that won't happen lol but shoot

me:[11:45:32] how big is your dick?

I chewed on my thumb as I watched the little text bubbles show up before they stopped completely. My heart sank and I was ready to start typing the biggest apology ever when Yunho finally replied.

yunho🧐:[11:47:13] do you wanna see it?

me:[11:47:20] yes.

I couldn't even be embarrassed by how quickly I answered the question, my heart racing in anticipation as I stared at my phone screen. My skin was tingling, my mind racing. This was happening, and we haven't even gone on our third date yet.

yunho🧐:[11:50:06:] *image*

My mouth immediately went dry and I clenched my thighs tightly as I looked at what was on my screen in awe.

me:[11:51:08] oh

yunho🧐:[11:51:47] that's a good "oh"... right?

me:[11:52:22] that's a very good oh...

He was... big. And this was just in a picture... I could only imagine how he looked in person. The thought had a chill go down my spine, my face growing hot as I squeezed my thighs again in arousal.

yunho🧐:[11:55:32] have i satisfied your curiosity?

me:[11:56:14] yes, thank you for your time and energy.

yunho🧐:[11:57:09] pfft. what brought this on anyway?

me:[11:58:01] its like you said... i was just curious

yunho🧐:[11:58:55] right... and what do you plan to do with this new found information?

me:[11:59:15] im going to sleep.

yunho🧐:[00:00:12] 🤔sleep huh?

yunho🧐:[00:00:33] so you're telling me

yunho🧐:[00:00:56] you have nothing else to say?

me:[00:01:14] i just wanted to see it...

yunho🧐:[00:01:40] right... just out of curiosity.

me:[00:02:00] exactly. curiosity.

me:[00:02:44] which you were so kind and gracious to help me with, so again, i thank you

yunho🧐:[00:03:22] you only have to ask

yunho🧐:[00:03:40] whatever else you're curious about...

yunho🧐:[00:04:02] ill be there to help you figure it out...

yunho🧐:[00:04:32] ill see you this sunday. cant wait to see you again.

me:[00:05:03] yeah, me too.... goodnight, yunho.

♡ ♡ ♡

I set my fork down for the final time on the empty plate, letting out a satisfied sigh. "Man... I really have to pat myself on the back for that one."

Across from me, Yunho laughed as he pushed his own empty plate away from him, finishing the rest of his water. "Dinner was delicious. Thank you for making it."

I couldn't help but blush, smiling shyly as I bowed my head. "Thank you. I'm glad everything turned out okay."

As promised, I made Yunho and I a nice dinner for our third date, having kicked Mingi out of his and I apartment for the night. Yunho had shown up right on time, a sweet smile on his face, which turned into a wide grin as he presented me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. My heart raced as I turned my head to look at them, the flowers now homed in a glass vase. I loved them.

"No, I'll do that for you." Yunho quickly stood up and grabbed the empty plates to take to the kitchen. He even took the liberty to open up the dishwasher, setting the dirty dishes inside.

"Wait- Yunho, I can do that." I tried to take a glass from him, but he just held it above his head, eyebrows raised at me in challenge.

"You made dinner. I can put the dishes in the dishwasher."

I pouted as he shooed me out of my own damn kitchen, walking to the living room where I plopped down on the couch with a huff. Turning on the TV, I opened up Netflix as Yunho then joined me, holding a bottle of red wine in one hand and two wine glasses with the other.

"Up for some wine now?"

"Always."

I put on a random movie while Yunho opened up the wine and poured us each a glass. I grabbed mine and we lightly tapped our glasses together as the movie finally started, us getting comfortable.

It wasn't long before I started to feel my cheeks heat up, and I knew it wasn't because I was curled up against Yunho's side with his arm around me. He finished his glass of wine while I still nursed mine, but still... my skin was starting to feel tingly.

Alcohol always did that to me, especially wine. My face, again, felt warm, and I fidgeted in place as the movie went on. My skin felt prickly, and soon that tingling feeling reached right between my legs and I tried so hard not to clench my thighs.

Yunho laughed at a funny scene that happened in the movie, and I let out my own distracted giggle, all of a sudden the smell of his cologne making my brain go fuzzy. He smelled really good... and his arm felt so strong and comfortable around me. And his body... sturdy and fit from years of dancing... And I thought of the picture of his dick I still had on my phone.

"Are you okay?" Yunho's soft whisper made me jolt where I sat.

"Y-yeah!" I cringed as my voice cracked. I drank some more wine. "Never better."

Yunho gave me a look, his eyebrow raised up. "Uh huh... you just look distracted."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said with a sniff, finishing my wine. Yunho easily plucked the glass from my hand, setting it down on the side table to join his.

"Okay so... what's happening now? In the movie?" Yunho asked, a challenge in his voice and I gaped at him, looking at the TV as an action sequence played on.

I had no fucking idea.

Yunho snorted at my silence and I glared at him, a pout on my face. "Don't be rude."

"You're so fucking cute," Yunho declared, his warm eyes starting to shift as he lifted his hand, cupping my jaw. I pouted again and he chuckled softly, the deep rumble of his voice making me shiver. My thighs clenched and his eyes briefly flickered down before he looked back at me again. "Can I ask a question?" He asked, his thumb pressing against the corner of my mouth, where he pushed it up into a fake half smile. "It's your turn to satisfy my curiosity."

I gulped, my hands balling into fists as I stared into Yunho's heat filled eyes. He slowly licked his lips, eyes trained on my face as I started to breathe heavily. "What is it?"

A devious smirk played on his face. "If I shove my hand up your pretty dress and into your panties, how wet would I find you?"

My mouth fell open just a bit before I licked my lips, Yunho slowly running his fingers up and down my arm. I shivered deeply, goosebumps forming on my skin as my heart thudded. "Why don't you find out?"

I was still leaning against him, Yunho moving his hand down my arm and to my hip. He hiked my dress up, making me sigh softly as he caressed my thick thigh a few times before he tapped my knee. Biting my lip, I shifted so I could open my legs, Yunho not wasting any time before he pressed his fingers right against me.

I let out a very deep sigh, leaning my head against his chest as Yunho slowly stroked my pussy through my wet panties. I moaned softly, Yunho's breath slowly fanning across the side of my face as he looked down.

"Your panties are soaked..." he rumbled deeply. "You're telling me the wine did this?"

I shook my head. "...been turned in since you walked through the door..."

Yunho only chuckled deeply in response, shifting one more time until he was leaning back against the arm rest, my back to his chest as I sat between his long legs. He kept one hand pressed gently to my belly while his other pushed into my panties, and I bit back a gasp as he started to rub my pussy again.

"Come on... don't try to be shy now," Yunho teased, pressing a kiss against my ear as he started to rub on my clit. "What happened to the girl that asked for a dick pic?"

"First of all, I didn't ask," I managed to say before gasping when he teased my entrance with his fingers, his other hand grabbing and massaging one of my breasts through my dress. I tightly held onto his wrist, mouth falling open. "Y-You offered.... fuuuuuck...."

Yunho smiled, pleased at how I moaned as he continued to play with me. "I suppose I did..." He slowly pushed a finger inside of me, his arm tightening around me as I squirmed. "C'mon, stop moving so much."

"I can't help it," I whined in response, earning a laugh as Yunho began slowly thrusting his finger.

"Are you that turned on?"

"Hmmmmm," I could only moan in response as he continued fucking me with his finger, my hands clinging onto his arms as I leaned my head back against his shoulder. Yunho pressed a kiss on my cheek, suddenly pushing a second finger inside of me.

"That's it..." Yunho hummed as I moaned again, thrusting his fingers in and out while kissing my cheek again and moving down along my jaw. "You sound so pretty moaning for me."

"Kiss me please," I gasped out, taking a few deep breaths before turning my head. Yunho didn't waste any time, gripping my chin with his free hand as he pressed his lips on mine in a deep, searing kiss. It quite literally took my breath away, the way he kissed me. It set fire to my bones, his lips overtaking mine, his tongue exploring mine all while he continued to pleasure me with his fingers, curling them into the right spot while he pressed the heel of his palm against my clit.

"Yunhooooo," I moaned his name after I pulled back for air, my eyes screwing shut while I could feel that knot in my belly get tighter, my harsh pants and the lewd squelching noises an erotic symphony in the air. I leaned my head back again, and his hand moved from my chin to right around my neck. It sent a deep chill down my spine. He didn't squeeze but the grip felt powerful enough to send my mind whirling, along with the deep stroke of his fingers. "Please..."

"Come on, sweetheart," Yunho whispered in my ear. "I want you to cum... I know you can do it." I whined, fingernails digging into the skin of his arm as I panted heavily. "Cum for me, baby. Come on, so I can make you cum on my tongue next. Then lay you down and fuck you nice and good. I know you want it. How many times have you touched yourself thinking of me fucking my big cock into you, huh?"

This was not fair.

Yunho was so sweet and kind... but his dirty mouth was absolutely disarming.

I never stood a fucking chance.

With a loud cry, my legs squeezed tight around his hand as I came hard around his fingers, the orgasm coursing through me in waves that had my body shaking and jolting in his arms. "Oh my God..."

"That's it, baby," Yunho whispered, his fingers still inside me as he finger fucked me through my orgasm. "Beautiful, you made a mess on my hand."

And on Mingi's couch.

Yunho pulled his hand out of my panties, and I watched in a daze as he licked his fucking fingers clean, closing his eyes and moaning at the taste of my arousal. It had me blushing, at a loss for words.

"I knew you'd taste divine," Yunho remarked, licking his lips before looking at me. His eyes were on fire. He gently cupped my chin with his big hand, turning my face here and there as he took in my flushed face. "So pretty..."

He kissed me again, and I kissed him back eagerly, turning around so I was fully facing him, both knees pressed into the couch cushion. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly to him while keeping his mouth on mine.

We made out heavily, and I squealed when he suddenly stood up from the couch... bringing me with him as he lifted me up with ease. "Where is your room?"

"Last door on the right."

He found my room with a bit of distraction as I kissed all over his face, kicking the door shut and reaching behind him to lock it. He set me down on the ground, slowing down his movements as he cupped my cheek, pushing me right up against the door. He stared down at me, pushing some of my hair behind my ear. His soft, brown eyes were back. "Are you okay? We don't have to keep going."

I smiled at him, taking his hand and kissing the inside of his palm. "I'm okay, Yunho. I want this."

Ugh, his smile. It should be illegal to be so beautiful. Yet here he was, tall and cute and charming and talented and amazing and such a good fucking kisser. His lips on mine again, hand buried in my hair. Then he was helping me pull my dress off.

Then he was on his knees before me and I looked down at him alarmed. He gently held the back of my legs, leaning in with closed eyes as he kissed my thighs softly. He littered my thighs with kisses, soon my legs shaking as he slowly worked his way up. He grabbed my panties, his eyes now dark as he slowly pulled them down.

"Fuck," he breathed out as I stepped out of my panties, looking at my soaking wet pussy with the hunger of a starving man. "I consider myself the luckiest man in the world," he whispered, making my heart thud in my chest. His grip on the back of my thighs tightened, Yunho leaning in to put his mouth on me.

Yunho loved eating pussy. That's the only thing I could say as he gripped my thighs tightly with his huge hands, moaning repeatedly while he worked his mouth and tongue and lips on me. It was a miracle I could still stand, my fists now tight in his hair while my head was thrown back as I moaned deeply.

"Yunho, oh my God," I whined, crying out when he sucked on my clit, flicking at it with his tongue before he went back to absolutely devouring me. He didn't even respond to me, his eyes absolutely glazed over, still moaning as he ate me out.

I pulled at his hair, one of my legs now draped over his shoulder as his hands squeezed my behind, keeping me firm against his face. I could feel that knot again, and Yunho didn't protest as I started to grind down on his face, chasing that release. "Please, please, please, please, please," I begged him repeatedly, his fingers pressing hard into my flesh as he just grunted against me, making me grind against his face harder.

I doubled over with another loud cry as I came again, Yunho lapping at me with his tongue as wave after wave of pleasure absolutely wrecked me from inside out. "Ohhhh God," I whined, feeling my knees buckle under me but Yunho held onto me tightly, panting heavily as he slowly got up to his feet. He moved and sat me on the bed, and the whiplash I got from one moment having him on his knees for me to him now standing over me almost menacingly almost took my breath away.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asked while I moved onto my knees at the edge of the bed. I grabbed the chain that hung from his neck, pulling him to me and kissing him hotly on his mouth.

"Not as crazy as you make me," I whispered before kissing him again, Yunho holding onto the back of my neck as he kissed me back. I grabbed his shirt and helped him peel it off before we kissed again, hands roaming each other's bodies desperately.

Yunho massaged my breasts in his hands, thumbs running over my nipples. I tilted my head back and sighed deeply, Yunho trailing kisses down my neck. I reached for the belt of his jeans, and before long, I was watching him push down his jeans and underwear and stepping out of them.

"Holy shit," I gasped as I looked down, Yunho tipping my chin up so I could look at him again.

"Is it better than the picture?"

I licked my lips, eyes trailing down again. A deep chill went down my spine. "Yeah..." I mumbled, reaching and gently grabbing his big cock. Yunho took in a sharp breath as I slowly started to stroke up, angling my head down so I could let a wad of spit dribble down on it to help make things slick.

"Fuck..." Yunho hissed, tilting his head back as I continued my strokes, the throbbing between my legs becoming unbearable. Shifting myself lower, I balanced myself with one hand, using the other to keep him in my grip while I leaned in to take the angry red tip of his dick in my mouth. Yunho jolted and I just kept on sucking on the tip while stroking the rest of his dick.

Yunho moaned unabashedly as I pleasured him, his fingers carding through my hair as he let me do my thing. I slowly brought more of him into my mouth, obviously not able to take all of him, but it was still enough to have the man panting heavily, his face flushed red.

He watched as I bobbed my head back and forth on his dick, swirling my tongue around as I blew him. Yunho kept his hand on the back of my head, not pushing but still pulling on my hair every now and then as he would hiss and groan deeply. With sweat running down his temple, he looked down on me just as I looked up at him through my eyelashes, licking the underside of his cock slowly before taking him back in my mouth.

"Okay, fuck, fuck," Yunho gasped out, taking my hair and pulling my head back. I gasped, not even able to register what just happened before Yunho was on me, kissing me hard and pushing me on my back on the bed. "The only way I'm cumming is inside your cunt."

"Okay," I breathed out, kissing him deeply and spreading my legs for him to wedge himself between. "Please, I want you so bad, Yunho," I whispered against his lips, our foreheads pressed together as he stared deep in my eyes. We stilled for a brief moment, just taking each other in before Yunho closed his eyes and leaned in, his kiss softer this time.

The kiss was invigorating, our hands grasping each other rather desperately as he pressed himself against me. I broke from the kiss with a weak gasp as Yunho first pushed himself into me, Yunho letting out a deep breath with his forehead pressed against my chest.

He pushed in slowly, and I cried out from the stretch, the delicious burn as he filled me up with his cock. My fingers dug into his skin, Yunho pressing kisses on my neck and jaw.

"Yunho..."

"So fucking tight..." he gasped, pulling himself back before slowly pushing back in. He started with a slow rhythm at first, his groans of pleasure mixing with my gasps and sighs. His weight felt like heaven on my body, his mouth pressing open mouth kisses everywhere he could.

"You feel so good," I moaned, tossing my head back when Yunho started to pick up the pace, pushing up on his arms so he could hover above me, the chain he wore dangling in my face. He watched as my face contorted in bliss, my eyes screwed shut as I gripped his arms. The sound of skin slapping against skin relished in our ears.

"You feel so good, sweetheart," Yunho breathed out, sweat dripping down his forehead. "Look so pretty too, taking my cock so well." He pushed his hair off his forehead, continuing to fuck into me as he panted, as more dirty talk left his sinful mouth. I could only whine and moan in response, wrapping my arms around him and pulling him down for a messy kiss.

He pushed his tongue into my mouth, completely overtaking my body and soul as his hips snapped against mine. Each thrust he made had me gasping for air, the knot in my belly getting tighter and tighter until suddenly, I'm crying out as waves of pleasure coursed through my body, my back arching off the bed as I came.

“That's it, that's it," Yunho whispered, pulling out and rolling me onto my side. He laid down behind me, pressing his chest to my back and hiking my leg up to push his dick right back into me. I let out a strangled gasp as he fucked me, hooking his arm around the bend of my knee, pushing my leg up more and wrapping his hand around my neck.

"Fuuuuck~" I cried out, gripping into his arm tightly, Yunho actually squeezing my neck this time, the slight pressure making my head go fuzzy and my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

He continued to fuck me like this, letting his hand loosen periodically while he cursed and hissed in my ear, talking me through yet another orgasm.

"That's it, good girl. That feel good, huh? You feel so fucking good, baby, so good. Come on, squeeze my cock. I want you to scream when you cum. Say my name."

"Hnnng," My voice was already going raw, Yunho moving his hand from my neck to grab my hip tightly, his thrusts hard and fast. I let out a sob, screaming out Yunho's name as I came around his cock again. Yunho fucked me through my orgasm, panting in my ear until he thrust in one more time, keeping himself fully inside as he came with a deep groan.

He released deep inside of me and I could only whimper at the feeling, Yunho's bruising hold the only thing keeping my mind from slipping away.

It took us a moment for us to get our bearings enough for us to separate, though that only lasted a second as Yunho laid on his back and pulled me to him tightly. He cupped my face and kissed me deeply. I returned the kiss eagerly, fixing him with a dopey smile as I pulled away.

"Hey," he said softly, brushing some of my hair away from my face. "You okay?"

"Hm," I hummed with a lazy nod, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I'm fantastic..." I whispered softly, kissing him again. "You were amazing."

"Ahh," Yunho blushed shyly, his soft brown eyes looking away. "You were amazing too."

I blushed this time, the two of us falling into a comfortable silence as Yunho traced random patterns on my side with his fingers. "So..."

"Hm?"

Heart pounding, I look up to him a little hopefully. "Fourth date?"

Yunho let out a small laugh, unable to keep the large smile from growing on his beautiful face. "And a fifth, and a sixth."

I felt giddy, giggling as I kissed him yet again. "And seventh, eighth and ninth?"

Yunho laughed loudly this time, sitting up and pulling me on his lap. "Is that even a question?"

"Yes," I pouted.

"Then yes," he hummed. "I really like you."

My face turned red. "I really like you too..."

"I'm serious," he then said. "I want this to turn into something serious... not just sex."

I stuttered a bit, my heart hammering in my ears. "I want that too, Yunho..." I whispered, and he repaid me with a wide, bright smile.

"Good," he said, kissing me one last time. "Let's take a shower."

I blinked. "Right. Okay."

Yunho snorted. "Get it started and I'll join you after I change the bedsheets."

"Wh- Yunho, I can do that."

"Nope," he said, popping the P at the end. "I'll take care of it."

I just huffed at him. "Are you always like this?"

He grinned. "Yep." He popped the P again. "Get used to it. Acts of service are my love language."

My heart fluttered. "Oh... well, okay."

I got up and went to start the shower, sighing in content as the hot water soothed my body. Soon, Yunho joined me, holding me close as we cleaned each other up. Though, he ended up fucking me against the wall, the bathroom fogging up. Afterwards, we got clean again before heading to a freshly made bed, where we cuddled under the covers, engaging in some sickeningly sweet pillow talk until we dozed off.

♡ ♡ ♡

The room was dim, the morning sun blocked by the drawn curtains. The door creaked open and Mingi poked his head in, looking to find Yunho and I still sleeping under the covers, holding each other with my head on his chest.

Mingi stopped himself from snorting, slowly walking into the room. He walked to the nightstand, looking over at us again before he smirked and shook his head. He set two things on the nightstand before he quietly walked out the room, carefully closing the door.

On the nightstand was a cleaning bill for his couch.

And the morning after pill.

-end

[neteyamsyawntu]

Kinktober 29

D i r t y T a l k

Neteyam x Human!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

Warnings: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞 Vulgar language, na'vi dirty talk, fingering, intense squirting, overstimulation, thigh fucking, mentions of breeding, cream-pie kind of, slight P in V.

please note that I am not fluent in Na'vi, so I do apologize if my phrasing isn't completely accurate.

Translations: Nga narlor lu - You are beautiful Lonu - Release/Let go Tsakrr - Then Leyn… tsä po oe - Again… squirt for me Tsafya - that way/like that Tìvirä nga kinams - Spread your legs Srane - Yes Sìltsan ‘eve - Good girl Sran, sran, tsafya… ma’ yawne, tsä po oe - Yes, Yes, just like that… my beloved, squirt for me nga lu mei nìtxan - you’re so wet tam tam - There there

Nete art by @cinetrix

Being mated to someone like Neteyam was otherworldly. It felt like a gift to have someone with his kindness and compassion care for you like no one else has or ever would for that matter. Although you weren’t entirely fluent in his mother tongue, that still didn’t stop him from calling you sweet names in the language, which of course you didn’t mind.

The language of na’vi itself had always sounded beautiful to you. Sure Neteyam would call you English pet names too, like “baby” or “my love” because he knew that you would understand them, yet your heart always skipped a beat when he called you things like, “yawntu”(loved one) or “ma’ txe’lan”(my heart). It was moments like now when Neteyam was anchored above you, a hand supporting the underside of your head while the other was focused between your thighs, making you take his long, slender fingers into your cute little pussy, that made you love the way he spoke to you. So loving and yet somehow incredibly filthy at the same time. 

Your back arches, hips bucking as you fucked yourself into his hand and despite your lip being tucked so tightly between your teeth, it couldn’t stop the flood of needy whimpers that escaped you. “That’s it, love… keep moving your hips… I love seeing you dance for me.” His soft, low purr echoes in your ear as he places a kiss on your hairline, nuzzling sweetly into your temple. It didn’t escape your eyes that beneath Neteyam’s loincloth, his boner was twitching wildly, as he subtly moved his own hips to grind against the fabric, his body growing more desperate for some form of friction. 

Despite how many times the two of you had done this, it had always amazed you how well he filled you even though all he’d ever used was his fingers, making the idea of taking his cock seem impossible to you. You’d seen it of course, even attempted at sucking him off, yet to get even just the tip seemed to be too much to fit inside your mouth. The thing was practically the size of your forearm, so the outcome was no surprise to you. Even still, you were completely satisfied with how attentively and lovingly his fingers curled inside your soft, velvety cunt, and fuck did he love to hear you moan for him. 

It had caught on quick that even the things he said to you was a turn on, to which he happily used to his advantage. Neteyam’s eyes wandered over your body, the light bounce of your breasts, the arch of your neck, the way your eyes fluttered closed when he curled his fingers in just the right spot; Breathtaking. “Nga narlor lu” he whispers under his breath, his eyes drifting to a half lidded state as he watches you intently. “Hm?” You hum, his tone of voice indicating his words had been ones of affection. “I said you look beautiful, yawne… so beautiful.” Neteyam’s voice breaks into a soft hum as he passes his cheek over your forehead. It was hard to tell which he enjoyed more, smelling your scent, or spreading his own scent over you to be able to smell his claim on you. 

With a sudden stutter of your hips and a strained “Ohh” that climbed in pitch, Neteyam knew you were close, his fingers working diligently against the same spot that forced your body to react time and time again, his palm deliciously rubbing against your clit in the process. “S-shit, Teyam- fuck I’m gonna-!” You whine, squirming in Neteyam’s grasp, as his hand beneath your head slips to hold your shoulder, pulling you into his body, “There you go… lonu…let go for me, yawne…”. That name is what pushes you over the edge, your cunt flutters around his fingers as an intense pressure takes over your core, until you find yourself recreating a sort of explosion as your juices squirt out of you, soaking his forearm in the process. 

Your voice reaches its peak as Neteyam continues to fuck you through your high, while his fingers progressively slowed down, his hand slowly changed position, to press his thumb firmly against your clit. “That was quite a lot, little one” Neteyam coos teasingly as his lips spread in a satisfied smirk, With a breathy chuckle you lay your head back, eyes closed as you try and regain some form of logical thinking, “Mm… I feel like you know my body inside and out… and I’m not gonna lie, something about how you speak na’vi to me when you touch me just…” your voice trails off as you anchor yourself up on your forearms, a slight blush taking over your cheeks as you avert your eyes bashfully.

 Neteyam’s smirk seems to widen at this realization, showing off his bunny teeth, his ears flicking with intrigue as he adjusts his body posture to lay beside you rather than over you, “Is that so? Tsakrr…” his voice rumbles in a low purr as he brings his face to the crook of your neck, dragging his tongue along the dip of your collarbone as his fingers begin to slowly work inside of you once more. Your body jolts as slight overstimulation begins to set in, showing signs of still being sensitive from your intense orgasm, “Ahhn! T-Tey what are you doing?” You mewl, gripping onto his wrist as his thumb pushes up on your clit, “Leyn… tsä po oe.”. His mother tongue is still foreign to your ears, yet when his thumb quickens to flick your sensitive bud back and forth, you immediately know what he’s asking for. 

Your breath catches on your throat in a gasp, your hold on his wrist growing tight as your neck arches, rolling your head back at the sensation, “Tsafya…” he encourages, latching his lips onto your pulse and sucking tentatively. The pressure in your lower abdomen builds and builds, your core feeling as if it’s on fire as heat rushes through your body. It was almost too much, too intense. Skittishly you attempt to bring your knees together, closing your legs around his hand, “Kehe.” the relief is short lived when large blue three fingered hands push your thighs open, Neteyam’s lips slowly working their way up to your ear, “Tìvirä nga kinams.” The rough whisper comes out as an obvious command that sends a shiver through your body and a will to obey. 

 “S-sra.. srane…” you mumble sheepishly through your moans, doing your best to engage with his tongue. Neteyam releases a breathy chuckle against your ear, very much appeased with your efforts, despite them being a tad formal, “Sìltsan ‘eve…” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before dragging the flat of his tongue up the side of your ear, causing yet another shiver and a slight yelp to emerge from you. A sort of invisible weight bears down on you as you feel your legs begin to tremble, your body beading in sweat as your moans and whimpers shift into wheezed pants, “Sran, sran, tsafya… ma’ yawne, tsä po oe.” And there was that name again, his words added fuel while your body writhed and bucked uncontrollably, a steady stream suddenly bursting from your body, spraying another load of your arousal in a fresh coating on his arm with a cry of ecstasy. 

A groan leaves Neteyam’s lips as the sight before him sends a bolt of arousal to his covered erection, throbbing with need to have you. In the dizzying flurry of your second high you fail to notice as Neteyam pulls his loincloth down to his ankles, his arm sneaking under your backside is the only thing that brings you back into a conscious state as you are suddenly lifted onto his lap, both hands holding your hips assertively down on his cock, releasing a pleasured hiss as your pussy lips come into contact with his shaft, “Mmmn… nga lu mei nìtxan.” He groans, sliding your slick folds up and down the length of his cock. Your broken yelp sounds the air as your body is pushed further over your limits as your na’vi lover uses you for his own pleasure. It was only fair wasn’t it?

Your soaked pussy nearly drenches his cock in seconds as you rode along the firm muscle, your body would’ve already been slumped forward onto his chest, if it weren’t for his hold on you. You watch through glossy eyes as the veins in Neteyam’s neck protrude when his head dips backward, mouth hung open spewing native curses. Your body felt so perfect against his, despite the size difference. Your soft cunt pressed so lovingly against his throbbing cock felt euphoric, yet even still he craved for me, and more he would have. 

In another quick movement, Neteyam swiftly rolls you onto your back, his cock now laying heavily against your pelvis as he gathers both of your legs and puts your knees together lifting your lower half off the bed, resting your ankles on his shoulder and securing his hold on you by locking his arm around each of your thighs. With his dick now snuggly in the hold of your closed thighs, Neteyam reels his hips back and begins to grind himself against your labia and clit alike. “Ohh fuck! Neteyam! Net- haah!” Before you could even formulate any sort of retort, another gush of juices drench each of your pelvises. Eywa were you a sight to behold, all wet in your own juices as he fucked your thighs like it was your cunt. Neteyam’s eyes bore into you as he took in every inch of your body as thrust after thrust prompted a new wave of squirts that made it easier to run his cock through your thighs over and over again. 

“Ffffuck yawne… you feel so fucking perfect… my sweet little tawtute being such a good little toy for me…” his use of English takes you off guard for a moment having mentally adjusted to hearing him speak in na’vi, yet you are hardly able to linger on this thought as another gush has you squealing in ecstasy. “Eywa I want to feel you… I want to be inside of you so badly, feeling your pussy cling to me.” His words are breathless, his eyes closed tightly as he imagines just that, being inside your warm cunt, fucking into you like it was his life’s calling, unconsciously moving his hips faster the deeper he falls into his fantasy, his stomach now smacking loudly against your thighs. 

Your head twists and turns, your hands reaching for him in a futile effort before they fall to your sides, fisting the blankets and sheets beneath you, your mind now deprived of any coherent thought as Neteyam rips orgasm after orgasm, squirt after soaking squirt out of your fragile little body. The center of Teyam’s brows knit together as the obscene sounds of your squelching thighs vigorously massaging his cock make their way to his ears, his mind whirling with images of your cunt taking every inch of his cock until it’s bulging from inside your stomach, a unchecked moan escaping his lips at the thought, “Ahh oh ma’tìyawn… I want to be inside of you, stretching you, breeding your cute little womb until it’s full of my seed.” Another gush of your arousal emerges as the tip of his cock catches against your clit. “Mmmn! P-please… please Nete!”, “Hmm? Is that what my little mate wants? You want to be full of my cum?” Neteyam hums in response to your pleas. 

His hips had slowed into a steady push and drag of his cock, squeezing your thighs tightly together in his arm as he drags his shaft over your abused clit, relishing in the way you soak him almost entirely as he thrusts through your thighs. “Mmn I want you to feel it… even if it’s just a taste, I want you to feel my seed squirm it’s way into your womb- are you ready for me, yawne?” You vigorously nod in response, gasping when Neteyam grabs hold of each of your ankles, spreading your legs wide enough to watch himself align his cock head with your aching pussy lips, pushing himself as much as he can until your pussy almost swallows his tip and with a grunt his cum is spilling hot and heavy into your entrance.

Of course not all of it is able to stay contained in the small opening he had made for himself as some of his cum mixes with yours in a puddle on your labia. “There…” Neteyam huffs as he watches his seed spill out of you, his eyes wandering to your exhausted face as you embrace the warmth of his ejaculation spilling into your walls. Your chest heaving with strong pants as you desperately attempt to catch your breath, “Fuck… ah-haah… tam tam… you did so well my love… sìltsan ‘eve…” Neteyam softly coos, lowering your legs back down to the now ruined mattress, leaning down to gently press his lips to your forehead before moving to scent you all over again, rubbing his cheeks all along your face.

[corruptedlynx]

Naga x Reader

"First Meets"

Asante Thorne [Naga Male - Blue Beauty Rat Snake]

Word Count: 6,118 SFW

Summary: You had been looking forward to this night all week, even with your nerves sitting wild in your stomach since the decision had been made – that you would finally get to meet “Vesper,” a guy you had befriended over the last year from a site that you been frequenting. Despite your excitement initially, your tune is changed at first when a coworker of yours finds you and becomes far too pushy, only for your knight in shining scales slithers in to save you. Thankfully Asante’s presence is a quick turn-around for your mood and you enjoy your night with him. 

------

Vesper, the screen name you had known him by for almost a year and a half now, had quickly become a staple in your life upon getting to know one another, having met over a digital tournament where he had consistently beat you by only a hair. Between both you and your opponent's competitive streak and cynical humor the chat had become a crackling trash fire in all the best ways. Fast enough it had led to a friend request, then to more 1-on-1 gaming sessions including voice calls instead of the prior text chats; leading itself to even more intense banter. 

Eventually the friendship jumped from the game to other messaging apps and blogging sites, continuing on a regular basis. Messages and phone calls going until one or both phone batteries finally died, and you were forced to stop, or your eyes betrayed you and fell shut. 

Either way, it became increasingly clear to all of your friends that you had certainly become enamored with “Vesper,” whose real name you still did not know – he had taken to joking that he would finally tell you the day that you two met in person. Something neither of you had spoken about, assuming the other lived too far away. After all, the chances you lived close enough to just visit one another were likely infinitesimal, or it felt as much, and neither of you seemed eager to get your hopes up. 

However, this did not stop the pair of you from talking most nights, with him even learning your name after a particular phone call had led to your slipping up in a half-awake state. You had forgotten about telling him until the next night when he called you by your name in another game and your heart seemed to stop for a moment. He had won that round, and you really could not bring yourself to be annoyed about it. 

You knew that you had feelings for Vesper, but you pushed them aside. Despite the teasing and borderline flirting that often transpired between the pair of you, you had never given any indications about your actual feelings. Too needy for physical affection and too scared that being honest could change your dynamic. There was just no need, at least as far as you disputed with your friends, who didn’t seem to believe your half-hearted defense. You had never even seen a picture of him, you had continued to argue, or had a video call – despite his offers, since you had always changed the subject, too nervous about actually seeing him. One of your best friends had only rolled their eyes and called you a coward before shoving you jokingly and acting as though they were counting down the days until something finally happened. 

You never say anything about this ongoing war with your friends to Vesper, but you tell him plenty else, just as he entrusts you with information about his life. Still, neither of you had given anything away that could lead to naming where one another lived, and were not pushing the other to divulge, content still to just be speaking together. 

And speak you were that night, listening to the coos of apology and snarky responses when you listed off something particularly egregious that had gone on that day or the way in which your managers had handled the situation. 

You worked in retail, and while usually your snappish comments or humorous recounting was the byproduct of a noteworthy customer and their absolute meltdown in the store, not this time. This was the effect that one of your coworkers tended to have on you when you were unable to avoid him. He had a nasty habit of overstepping boundaries and getting far too touchy in general. And despite the different ways that you had tried to get him to back off, you had been the one to be reprimanded while they had written his behaviors off as being harmless fun or accidents time and again. It was a side effect of being the owner's cousin, you had reasoned over the phone as you flung a pillow back against your headboard in agitation. 

“What did the manager say again when you told him?” 

“He just said that it was an accident and I needed to let it go!” you shouted, voice pitching, before face planting into your pillow next to you while your phone remained atop the nightstand on speaker. You didn’t need to lift your head to hear the snarl of anger from Vesper. 

“Flat out groping you for the third time this week alone, and everything else he does, doesn’t add up to an accident!” 

Vesper had a protective streak over all his friends, and that certainly included you, something you could appreciate. You could hear the drumming of his fingers against his desk – a regular habit of his when he got worked up - and the sound of almost a growl on the other end of the phone before you finally lifted your head back up. “If it’s anything, I at least had a pick me up on my way home.” 

Vesper had to take a moment to compose himself and you could hear the shift before he finally spoke again, tone changed to try and pry a laugh out of you. “My wonderful self?” he drawled out. 

You could only chuckle, easily imagining him stretched out with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and his feet kicked up. Not that you could really know, but you felt you had a well enough idea of him to imagine how he acted. “Not this time.” Your next words were cut off by the over-dramatized gasp from Vesper, leaving you to laugh, at least a little. “On my way home there’s this little pet shop, and they have these little cats along the bottom of the window like a parade – but somebody went in and drew little wizard outfits on every. Single. One.” you chimed, starting to crack another smile at the thought. “I mean, I feel a little bad because they’re all in marker and that has got to suck to clean up, but for some reason when I saw them, I just started breaking down laughing. They were so cute.” 

Vesper was quiet for a moment before he asked if you had taken a picture of any of the little kitties. 

More than elated at getting to share them you chimed yes, pulling your phone back over to you and sending a slew of photos of the wizard kitty parade – double checking that none of them had your face reflected in the shop window them before sending. You were still talking about your favorite ones as Vesper hummed in response, until you realized he was being suspiciously quiet. “Ves?” 

He seemed to stumble over his words before you heard a sharp intake of breath. “This is gonna sound a little weird, but is this,” he heaved a sigh once more, seeming to rethink his words, “okay, is this Katey’s Kitty Pet Shop? On 4th Ave.” 

You froze for a moment at hearing the name of the shop. Glancing at your phone for a moment you had to think; to answer truthfully or lie out your teeth. Even if Vesper knew you were lying, you trusted him not to pressure you any further about it. But he knew, he really did already know, and it didn’t feel worth it to try and deny as much. Besides, a small part of your brain was sending up fireworks that maybe he had been closer this last year and a half than you had ever let yourself think. 

Before you could finalize your thoughts, you were brought back by the voice on your phone, with Vesper now trying to change the subject, figuring you were uncomfortable with him mentioning it. 

“I’m sure it’s not, sorry” he chuckled, though you heard through the awkwardness of it immediately. 

After one more beat of silence you finally responded, getting your mouth to move the way that you wanted. “Yeah, that's the shop name. There’s that, uh, ya know, coffeeshop two doors down called New Beanland.” 

Vesper lost it laughing at the mention. “Yeah! Oh, so, I’ve never been inside myself, but it seems like they have enough business, so I guess it’s good?” 

“Hey,” you snark at him, “that happens to be my favorite coffeeshop, thank you very much.” 

“You always get a London fog; I feel like that’s a low bar to judge by” 

“It isn’t! Besides, it’s just funnier to get it there because of the name. Also they’re cheaper,” you reason, rolling over onto your back and moving the phone onto the pillow, right next to your head with a small smile on your face. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give that one to you.” He relented, and once again it was easy to imagine him holding his arms up in defeat. 

For a moment everything fell silent before you hazarded asked another question. “So, I guess you go by the pet shop regularly?” 

“My sister loves that place, and she drags me out there as many times as she can.” he groans. 

You know it’s half-hearted, having heard him doting over his young sister plenty of times in the background of other calls or just talking about her accomplishments in general. 

A few more back and fourths were discussed about the pet shop and the very sad looking cat in the window – which Vesper had been forced to deny his sister adopting more than once due to their own cats. But from there the conversation moved on just as naturally as anything else until finally you were bent over on your side in the fetal position, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the intense waves laughter that wracked your body. It took another minute or two before you finally managed to calm down, eyes still closed as a few ripples of laughter occasionally broke the slowly calming atmosphere. 

As you had gone quieter you could hear the humming tone of Vesper on the other end, like he was trying to decide on his next words or was just a tad too unsure of himself to voice them. “What’s on your mind, Ves Man?” 

He snorted at the name. “I’m gonna ignore that.” He had to have sat forward because you could hear the creaking of the chair or his bed under his weight as he shifted. “I was wondering something, but I don’t want to push all this too far.” 

Your interest piqued you sat back up, head propped up on your hand. “You know you can’t tease me like that,” you chirped, prodding him into spilling. 

“I was wondering if I’ve ever seen you before while I was at the pet shop or something. Like if we were just right next to each other and I didn’t even know it.” He stopped for a moment more, fingers back to tapping out a made-up tune against the desk. “I was also thinking about us maybe getting to meet up finally. But I get figure that you’d be hesitant about doing that.” 

“Aren’t you nervous about the idea of meeting up?” 

“I mean sure, but it’s been more than a year and a half, and I’d like to put a face with the name – more than just your profile pic,” he mused. 

You bit your bottom lip, chewing at it while you mulled the thought over. You wanted to say that you needed more time to think about it, but you had been considering the same thing, and had for some time. “I’d like to finally meet up.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke, but thankfully Vesper had picked up on it, you knew because you could hear the excited smile in his tone as he next excitedly spoke. And then you realized it, you could no longer make out his words, a lulling slur to everything he said, prompting you to finally check the time. Your surprised laugh was what stopped his rambling on about what you could only assume were meeting ideas. “Vessie, Ves, my main man, my soulmate,” you teased, enjoying the quiet sound of laughing from your phone, “look at the time.” 

“Oh, woah – it is way later than I thought.” 

“And you’re more tired than I think you realize,” you asserted, prompting him towards the idea that it was time for him to sleep. 

He sighed, but did not argue it any further, “yeah, you’re right, you’re right. But you need sleep too. Don’t you have an opening shift tomorrow?” 

You winced at the thought before groaning, knowing that he was right. “Talk about it more tomorrow?” 

There was that same excited smile in his voice as he answered, having obviously leaned even further to the phone. “Absolutely. G’night.” 

“And good morning,” you chimed, finishing a sentence you both often threw at each other due to your different sleep schedules – tending to miss the other when either one of you would wake up. 

That conversation had been a month ago by this point, and you were more than excited that this evening was when you were supposed to meet with Vesper, who you had jokingly reminded was finally going to have to tell you his real name. He had offered to tell you beforehand, but you had instead decided the pair of you could take a selfie when you got there, and you would send that and his real name along to one of your best friends (who was more than excited for you as well, be demanding to know you were, well, not getting murdered). You were a bit more comfortable with the idea of meeting up alone given you knew all the cameras in front of the theaters and how well lit the area was, along with the regular foot traffic. And the two of you had planned to meet right in front of one of the best placed cameras that you knew of. As excited as you were, and as much as you wanted to draw out the mystery, you also wanted to be a bit smart about it, something Vesper still inclined you to be on a regular basis, even with this. 

And while he knew your first name, he still did not know what you looked like; you had at least shown him the majority of the outfit that you had planned to wear for your first meeting, so that he would be able to recognize you in the crowd. 

Now you were practically flying past the other people who dotted the streets, wind rushing past and bright colors flashing in your peripheral from all the lights and decorations that lined the late autumn streets and stores. Some at least had the decency to string out a few pieces of Thanksgiving décor given the holiday had yet to pass, but most stores were already sporting Christmas looks, not that any of that mattered as you hurried on your way. 

Your nerves were going haywire in your stomach, and you almost worried that if you stopped moving you might be sick – though that sounded much worse than it was. So focused on your nerves and on making it to your designated meeting spot, which you could finally see, you failed to hear someone calling your name. It wasn’t until that person had wrapped a tight hand around your arm and ripped you from your course that you were broken from your tunnel vision mission. Dizzy at the rough behavior you finally managed to look up at whomever had stopped you, your stomach dropping the moment that you realized it was your coworker. 

Of all the days that you wanted to see him, which was never, this was the worst of all times. 

The grin on his face was unnerving, and just added to the discomfort you felt as he spoke. “I was trying to get your attention.” 

You froze for a moment before managing to straighten yourself up, but found you were unable to pry your arm away. Instead, you flashed a quick smile, trying to be as nice as you could thanks to the creeping anxiety stopping you from being as rude as you would really prefer to be. “Yeah, I’m meeting someone actually, so I’m kind of distracted.” You tried pulling away once more but your words seemed to have just annoyed your coworker instead, who used his vice grip to pull you even closer to him. 

The stench of his breath was too close, and you could not help the way that your face skewed up in disgust before you noticed he was watching you and it prompted you to shift your expression to something passing as neutral. “Look, I really need to look out for who I’m meeting with, he should be here soon, so I’ve gotta get a move on.” 

“Just trying to get away from me?” he sneered, glancing around to see nobody paying any attention to the pair of you. “Because I don’t see anyone headed over here for you.” 

“He -” 

“I got reamed out because of you,” he cut you off, glowering from the side of his eye, his head still turned away while he looked around. 

A lie, you knew, as he had gotten less than a slap on the wrist. 

Finally, his attention shifted back to you fully. 

“Well then maybe you should have kept your hands off of her,” a deeper voice growled from behind you. You recognized it immediately, but before you could turn around and see him, or even speak, you coworker had gotten a single look at the man before shoving you away like you had burned him, sending you crashing roughly into the chest of who you knew must be Vesper. 

Unable to catch your balance on your own, you worried you might slip past and fall, until you were steadied by a solid arm wrapped securely around your shoulders. This kept you firmly planted with your back against his chest. And as much as you wanted to finally look up at Vesper, the way that your coworker was watching the both of you left you on edge enough that you did not feel safe taking your eyes away from him. 

Finally, your coworker looked up at Vesper and seemed to try and calm himself down, to make himself seem far more respectable than the rat he was. “It was just an accident.” 

Vesper didn’t even dignify your coworker’s blatant lie with a response, only giving a guttural warning noise. 

Your coworker, never the wisest man, opened his mouth to speak; but you could feel the way that Vesper straightened up, only able to imagine the look on his face as you watched your coworker shrink back and shut up. Apparently feeling as though it was no longer worth his time – and knowing this was a fight he was unlikely to win if it came to it – your coworker only waved you both off with a muffled cuss and turned tail, scurrying off the way that he had originally been headed. 

Still, you both waited, not allowing yourself to break your gaze until you finally watched him turn the corner, seeing him shoot you one more dirty look before vanishing. 

“He really is a greasy little bastard, isn’t he?” Vesper finally spoke. 

At the sound of his voice you finally allowed yourself to relax, shoulders dropping and head falling back against his chest where you could finally see his face. Despite the prior confrontation, when you finally made eye contact with Vesper, looking at you with the softest smile you could imagine, it was hard not to return the look immediately.  

You stayed silent for a moment, just taking in the man in front of you, from the crinkle of his eyes to the little patch of blue skin on the outer corner of each, which caught your attention before you were finally pulling away to get a proper look at him. 

It was then that you cracked up laughing until you were doubled over once again in a fit, as he often left you on calls. 

Utterly confused, he could only cock his head at you like a puppy, leaving one arm out for you to keep your balance. 

And finally, finally, you looked up at him with a cheshire grin. “He’s terrified of snakes,” you mused. The man in front of you, who you had automatically assumed to be human without meaning to, followed suit and began laughing as well. The naga man in front of you. 

The two of you shuffled against the wall between fits of laughter, realizing the odd looks that other passersby were shooting you and trying to stop anyone from stepping on or tripping over any part of Vesper’s long tail. Instead, he curled it around the both of you as you brushed aside the looks of others and tried to calm yourselves, only for the laughing to continue when one of you would risk looking at the other and crack all over again. 

After what felt like an eternity, but had only been about 15 minutes, the two of you finally caught your breath and calmed. 

Vesper was the first to speak. “Still need to send that picture to your friend, right?” 

You made a surprised noise, remembering the promise you had made to your friend before this night had begun. With little effort you pulled your phone out before handing it over to Vesper instead, who seemed to smugly understand that you wanted the taller of you two to take the photo. This led to him using his tail to push himself further upward until he could rest his arm on your head. Quickly enough though, he returned to his prior position, letting himself drape over you, before you moved one of his arms back around your shoulders and kept your hands there, smiling up at the camera along with him. 

Happy with the photo you made a ‘gimmie’ motion with your hands and he happily complied, relinquishing the device back to you. Appeasing himself instead by propping his head onto your shoulder and watching as you typed up your message. He said nothing until you started typing Vesper, causing you to jump when his voice rumbled out right next to your ear. 

“Asante.” 

You hummed in confusion, tilting your head to look over at him in question. 

“You’re using my screenname again, but my name is Asante.” 

You made a small noise to acknowledge what he said, looking back to your phone as you flustered from the way he had made himself comfortable, cheek to your shoulder as he looked up at you and spoke, his eyes never seeming to leave your face after he stopped. Quickly you sent off the text and slipped your phone away once more, knowing that you would be getting a barrage of messages as soon as it was seen. And for the moment you preferred to be focused on Asante. 

Initially you had thought it might take you much longer to warm up and be touchy with the man you were meeting, but it felt just as comfortable to be right on top of one another, as though you had both been doing it for far longer. 

Instead, you just closed your eyes and hummed, letting your head knock against his and stifling a laugh at his short whine in retaliation, not that he even bothered trying to move away from you. “You know how I was supposed to come up with something to do after we met up?” 

Asante groaned with a silent laugh as his arms dropped away and he pulled back just far enough to raise a brow at you with an exasperated expression. “You didn’t come up with anything?” 

“I was so nervous I thought I was gonna be sick, or like, chicken out,” you whined, bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. 

Asante only rolled his eyes affectionately before prying one of your hands away and nudging you to look at him. “But” he drawled out teasingly, “you’re here.” 

You smiled back, unable to stop yourself from preening under his fond expression. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Any ideas then?” 

“How about you pick this time?” 

Asante broke into a wide grin, and you noticed once again the way that the corner of his eyes crinkled and seemed to light up the moment he did. “So, there’s gonna be a next time?” 

“I mean, I hope so, after talking for as long as we have.” 

Asante nodded his head, motioning further down the street. “There’s a sandwich shop on the corner, they just have a window to pick it up from – we can order there or online. And there’s a park just a bit further down. We could go and eat at the park and just talk for a bit.” 

You swayed in place for a moment before agreeing, nudging him forward as you stepped over the coils of his tail around you. Asante said nothing as he watched you to ensure your balance, moving his tail out of the way before taking his place beside you, allowing the two of you to make your way in the direction of the sandwich shop. 

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and things turned quickly to banter and playful jabbing. You even managed to find a soft spot on his side that had him coiling away and laughing, mentally noting the fact that he was apparently ticklish for a later. It was something he must have realized judging on the warning look he seems to give you, not that it does anything to deter you and you both know as much. 

He’ll find something of note about you eventually, if he had not already, but you find that you don’t mind as much. 

It takes a bit longer to get to the burger joint due to your fooling around, but you do manage it and get your food before making off to the park, still joking the entire way (and stealing more than a few fries from his tray – though you know he’s freely allowing you to do so). 

The spot that the two of you pick is a bit more secluded, but you can still see a few couples and families wandering about the park in the fading autumn light. The nip in the air is only growing more noticeable in the later hour, but it isn’t too bad for you yet. Carefully you glance up at Asante, who you notice is shivering despite his hoodie. So, you slip off your jacket and hold it out to him silently as he munches away at his fries. 

Asante raises a brow as he looks at you, and you only shove the jacket further to him. 

“You’re shivering,” you comment, shaking the jacket in your hands. 

“I’m wearing a hoodie,” he defends. 

“Does it count when it has a titty window, slut?!” you exclaim, laughing as Asante almost immediately bends over, nearly choking while he tries to stop himself from laughing. 

“It counts,” he growls, though his smile is a dead giveaway as he sneaks an arm around you instead to pull you near him, tail curling around the pair of you securely where you both sit on the cold ground. 

You try wiggling out half-heartedly, but Asante keeps his hold on you, humming as he props his head on your shoulder once more, food abandoned by the both of you for the moment. 

“I think this works pretty good for keeping me warm,” he murmurs, going slack and making himself comfortable. Admittedly enjoying the warmth that is radiating off of you. 

“Asante are you just going to fall asleep on me?” 

“You can have my fries if I do,” he assures, voice steadily lulling out, though he tries to fight the overtake of sleep – just unwilling to pull away from you at the moment. 

You could only shake your head, placing your hand on his shoulder and nudging him back awake, though you could do little to convince him to move. “You can’t fall asleep on me in the middle of a park, especially if it starts getting colder.” Knowing he was a Naga certainly meant you had more concerns about being out so late in the autumn, but he seemed far less worried about any risks. 

Asante groaned, reluctantly pulling away before he really did fall asleep. Though that did not stop him from pouting, which he could see from the corner of his eyes was at the least causing you to smile and roll your own. 

“You big baby,” you chide, handing over your own fries to try and get him to drop the act. 

It works well enough, and he reaches over to accept the offering from you. “Is it my fault if you’re just the perfect heated pillow,” he asked, gesturing towards you in your entirety. 

The comment is enough to fluster you, causing you to look away before shaking your head and dismissing it for a moment; but Asante had caught your reaction and was left grinning, fully ready to abuse this information. 

He would hold off for now, not wanting to push boundaries too far in your first real meeting, but it was fun all the same to know. Still, having heard your expressed concerns he knew he likely had that same soft look on his face that he probably had prior in the evening (and as his sister had said earlier in the day upon seeing, made him look like a love-struck puppy and a bit dumb, which he had happily agreed to before hanging up). “You’re still worried about me being cold?” 

“Well yeah,” you chime, shoving another fry in your mouth, sandwich having been well and finished off by this point. 

Asante motioned you closer, and when you complied, he pulled you flush against his side. 

You let him, making sure that he wasn’t about to fall asleep eating, before relaxing against him and dumping the last few of your fries into his own container; Asante took your to-go box and set it under his own before the wind could blow it away. You closed your eyes and moved his arm, blocking out the cold from attacking your nose by burying it in the crook of his elbow. This thankfully didn’t impede Asante’s ability to hear you. 

The conversations that the two of you found yourselves having jumped around from topic to topic, falling into familiarity. And after Asante finishes his food, he realizes how quiet you had gone, instead opting to absently trailing a finger over his tail and looking over his pattern. He almost wants to tease and ask you what you’re doing but decides against it. 

You, for your own part, don’t realize how long you have been quiet, admiring the pattern of his tail. While you can’t see how the scales fade or taper off on his torso because of the black hoodie and fishnet, along with the wrapped fabric just under that – not that you mind – there is plenty else to keep your attention. A beautiful blue-gray color broken up by black spots decorates the upper portion of his tail, but as your eyesight trails down you see the splattering pattern of white stripes that take over, stark against the lowest portion of his tail as it sits over almost black scales. You have an idea of what to expect snakeskin to feel like, so it doesn’t catch you off guard. But because Asante is still wiggling in place, not that the fact really registers with you for the moment, you catch sight of the muscle rippling right under the surface. You’re still brushing a hand against his tail gently, completely enraptured with it before he finally places one hand over your own, silently amused at the way you jump and look up to him with wide eyes. 

“Having fun?” 

You shrink for a moment in embarrassment, but Asante does not seem keen to let you do that, intertwining his fingers with yours while his hand continues to rest atop your own. “I don’t mind it,” he assures, tail tightening around the two of you. “Well, I don’t mind you touching my tail at least.” 

The significance of his comment it not lost on you, but you say nothing, just curling further into him and getting comfortable, unwilling to remove your hand from his and still thumbing circles against the side of his tail as the two of you continue talking, despite the darkness finally starting to settle in overhead like an inky blanket. 

Unfortunately, this means the chill of the air only grows colder, and it can no longer be ignored by either of you when another passes. So reluctantly you both begin packing up, with you stealthily snatching away the trash and running it over to throw it away before he can try and stop you, insisting that you he can be a gentleman at least. He has that small pout once more on his face, but it drops just as fast when you knock your shoulder against his own, fingers brushing just slightly against the skin of his tail. 

Admittedly you both seem to be dragging your feet, even though you can just as easily call one another when you have to split ways for the night. But it isn’t the same, and after a year and a half of thinking this would not be possible, you were milking this time for everything you could. 

You can wholeheartedly admit that time is now your enemy, and if it could be bothered to stand still for a little while you might be willing to forgive it. Just to buy a little more time here in this moment with Asante. 

Seemingly having noticed you lost in thought he tilts your face toward him for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

“Is it too much to say I wish we could stick around a bit longer?” 

Asante shrugs. “Is it too much to say I wish I didn’t have to go home alone tonight,” he quips, mimicking your words. His comment works and you flush once more, shaking your head before he allows you to pull him into a hug. 

“We’ll have to figure something out to spend some more time together next time.” 

Asante, more than comfortable sapping your heat away and curling into you, hums in response before pulling back to look you in the eye. “Maybe next time could be a date?” 

The way your face lights up is mirrored in his own and you more than happily agree. “I think we could make that work.” 

A weight seemed to drop from his chest as he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good, because I've wanted to take you on a date for a while now, and tonight really cemented that” he admits. 

“How long?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Tell you next time,” he promises, placing a chaste kiss on your lip before pulling away and nudging you forward to the exit of the park. He notices the way you freeze for a moment but go soft at the action “But at least let me walk you back to where we met earlier, I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I can call you after we split, if you want. I wouldn’t mind talking still.” 

He seems to think about it for a moment but inevitably agrees. “Deal, but you have to sleep as soon as you’re safe in the door, you still have work tomorrow. "Which, if that coworker gives you any more trouble, I have no issues showing up and making him uncomfortable,” he assures. 

“You know, it still surprises me how protective you can get. You seem so shy sometimes.” 

“I was when I was younger, like hide behind my mom or run-away levels of shy. And then I made friends with people even shier than me and I just kind of stepped into the role. Also, my sister. Also her. She just gets into so much trouble,” he says, completely exasperated. 

It has you laughing once more but you say little else, “I’ll let you know if he’s an ass anymore.” You appreciate his promises of security all the same and you’re more than happy to enjoy the comfort of the silence that settles into place around the two of you as you make your way back to where you had originally met those few hours earlier.

[sombrashe]

i love ur blog!! it would be super cool if u did a norm x reader but the reader is like a wastelander/from the wastelands or something like that!!

content fluff, first kiss :3, both reader and norm are weird little things he's just more sexually inclined, gn!reader, chubby!reader

note(s) thank you so much for the kind words ;-; i hope you enjoy this !!

It's been three weeks since you joined the rag-tag group. Two vault dwellers, a ghoul, an ex-BOS member, and a wasterlander. Sounds like the beginning to one of The Ghoul's bad jokes. He calls them dad jokes but since over half of you didn't have a dad the idea was lost to the sand. Plopping down you go through your nearly empty pack.

"I think me and The Ghoul should go on a supply run."

Your voice rose to speak over the horrid wind pelting small clouds of sand into the side of the burnt-out husk of a house. Everyone looks you over and immediately starts speaking over each other to argue about the dangers of leaving into the storm. Raising a hand you let out a short shout to gain attention which works wonders.

"I've lived in this desert all my life I know how to keep sand away from my skin, I'll be fine. The Ghoul is pretty much unkillable. We need food. My pack is empty."

You try to sound reasonable. It's been days of your group being holed up in this shithole and honestly, you wanted out of there even for a little. As close as you have grown to each member of the group you barely have any time to yourself anymore.

"What if you get lost?"

"It's a small neighborhood, I'll be fine. I promise."

"You can't promise that and you know it."

Norm's voice chastises you despite his face hiding his true concern. You knew he just wanted what was best for you. Him being the one person you opened up to the most. His easygoing attitude and similar resting face made it nice to tell him about any worries. And you had a lot especially living on the surface. Something he was slowly becoming accustomed to.

"Why not take one of us instead?"

Lucy speaks up. Her eyes search your face, hoping you'll change your mind.

"The only one I would be willing to take is Max, but he's out of commission."

You point to his leg which sits propped on a toppled bookshelf. Trying to save Lucy from a radscorpion cost him a rolled ankle.

"The Ghoul is no-nonsense, he'll get us in and out, and if he doesn't... I'm sure youse guys can win a 4 v 1."

You give a wide smile showing them that you mean what you say. You just wanted to get this over with. You've been thinking about this for hours now. Watching as your already small assortment of supplies dwindled.

"Please, just let us go."

"Don't I get a say in this sweetheart?"

"No. You want 'ta find their dad as much as the rest of us. Not me, I'm here for all the warm company."

You roll your eyes and sling your pack over your shoulder. Norm stands just as quick nearly shoving you over in the process. You steady yourself against his bicep. Only for a second before you yank your hand back as a warm heat burns your cheeks. You walk around the room collecting anything you might need. An extra pair of pants wrap around your face. Nice and snug according to Lucy. Making eye contact with Norm you feel the need to look away. His eyes are so expressive and they're begging you to stay. You go to give him an awkward hug hoping to make the feeling in your stomach go away. He doesn't bite and gently untangles the fabric from around your jaw. Your goggles skew your peripheral but you know everyone is staring. You can't hear the mumbling as he leans forward. You can't even hear the wind whipping broken glass into the side of your hideout. You struggle to hear anything over the roaring of blood rushing to flood your head. Especially when his lips connect with yours. You lived a hard life and went through unimaginable pain, but this kiss, even for a moment, made you forget everything and everyone. His lips were so soft a stark contrast to the sharp broken skin of your own. Your hands lay limp at your side as you attempt to kiss back. This was all quite foreign to you but you wanted to make it work. Needed to make it work. Deep down.

"Come back to us. To me, please." He whispers directly against your lips.

Reaching up he ignores Lucy's inquisitive eyes as he gathers the untangled mess of denim. Slowly he affixes it back together and into a tight shield against the elements. He gives your cheek one quick squeeze through the thick layer. You thank the cover because you couldn't stand letting everyone see your grin even if Norm picked up on your eyes crinkling. Turning around you opt to look at the floor as you walk over to the strong oak door. Luckily the wood stayed mostly strong for these past 200-odd years with only a corner piece missing. Flinging the door open you call back to The Ghoul to hurry up as you disappear into the screaming darkness.

[arvandus]

Beneath the Bloodberry Tree

Barbatos x F!Reader (can be read as GN!Reader for this part, but future parts will likely have fem anatomy descriptions).

Content warnings: none (yet); softness, fluff; but if this is continued at all, it will later contain NSFW that will be tagged accordingly.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS: DO NOT FOLLOW OR INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

You were supposed to be asleep.  No doubt, Lucifer would scold you for being up at such an hour.

And you’d tried, tossing and turning, struggling to quiet the voices in your head, your mind running through the endless checklist of tasks and responsibilities. You’d listened to the seconds tick by into minutes, listened to the hourly chime of the clock downstairs that somehow managed to always echo into every recess of the mansion, no matter how convoluted its inner walls.

Finally, you’d given up.  Perhaps it was the silence that kept you up, the lack of noise and chaos a much-needed balm upon your weary mind.  The late night of Devildom was the only time you could find peace and quiet, when all others were asleep.  Even Lucifer, for all of his late-night working, had finally turned in to get the few hours of rest he needed in order to scrape by the next day.

You got up from your bed, slipped on your robe, and grabbed your book.  You knew exactly where you wanted to be, and it wasn’t here at the House of Lamentation.

Fortunately for you, you’d been practicing your teleportation spell with Solomon for the past month and a half.  While you weren’t perfect at it by any means, your skills were adequate enough to take you where you wanted to go at this late hour, which just so happened to be the royal gardens at the Demon Lord’s castle.  In fact, it was a very specific spot, located at the edge of the pond beneath the bent boughs of the bloodberry tree.

The roots of it rose from the earth, curved like the arms of a mother offering an embrace.  The bark was smooth and black, and you settled against it easily, your spine curving snuggly against the trunk.  You paused and stared at the skinny, hanging branches, covered in thin, metallic grey leaves that shimmered faintly in the starlight.  The boughs were overladen with white flowers, which was nothing new... the tree was always in bloom.  However, usually, the petals were colored a deep red and closed, sealed up protectively against the moonlight.  Tonight, however, with the moon well below the horizon, the petals were white and open, revealing pitch black berries in their centers, signifying the fruit’s ripeness.

“Good evening,” said a familiar, smooth voice.

You startled slightly and turned to see Barbatos, fully dressed in his demon form, his butler attire impeccable despite no one awake to see it. Your heart pounded at the sight of him, his beauty even more ethereal than usual.  You became instantly aware of your own shabby appearance, and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Barbatos??” you replied in surprise. “What are you doing up?”

Even as you asked, your eyes traveled to the half-filled basket in his hand.

The butler chuckled.  “I should inquire the same.”

He walked over and joined you in your small cove of roots, his eyes staring through the hanging boughs to the calm water beyond. Your gaze followed his.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you replied.  “I tried, but eventually gave up.  Figured I’d enjoy the quiet and do a little reading.”

“And you chose this location...?”

“Because it’s peaceful,” you smiled. “It makes me happy.” You chuckled. “And it’s away from the house of insanity.”

Barbatos chuckled.  “I see. I also often wish to linger in the late hour when the master’s needs have been met and he’s asleep. However, my duties rarely allow for it. Which is why I will cherish this special night, as it only occurs a few times a year.”

You looked at his basket of bloodberries and back up at the tree.  “They’re finally ready to be picked, huh?”

Barbatos hummed in confirmation.  “Bloodberry flowers only open up in the late night when the day’s moonlight is gone. It takes a long time for them to reach fruition.”

“They’re ripe when the flower petals turn white, as if the berry has sucked all the color from them. And you can only pick them when the flowers open, because otherwise the berries will be poisonous,” you said.

Barbatos smile grew. “I see you have been paying attention during your botany class.”

“I have a particularly good teacher,” you replied with a grin.  “Besides, I’ve always been interested in the Devildom’s fauna.  As a human, it seems like it’s something important I should know about.”

“Very true; the Devildom is not a very hospitable place for you...”

You stared down at the basket.  “So, what are these bloodberries going to be used for?”

Barbatos seemed to glow a little brighter, his normally placid face coming alight.  “A pie,” he replied. “The young master had made a comment earlier today when he noticed the colors of the flowers.”

You tilted your head at him and smiled warmly. “You’re very kind, Barbatos. Diavolo is lucky to have you.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared at you.  His expression returned to neutral, a defense mechanism you’d come to learn, when one got a little too close to his cautious heart. He was a man who avoided temptations and refused distractions lest they lead him astray from his quest of atonement.

And yet... you couldn’t help but get the feeling that he was holding his breath, his mind working through something important.

But then the moment passed, and his gentle smile was back as he broke eye contact and stared across the water. “You are the kind one, allowing me to intrude upon your privacy. Perhaps I should allow you to return to your book.”

“Well, I’m not returning to it since I haven’t opened it up yet.  And to be fair, you were here first. I think I intruded on you.” You tilted your head thoughtfully as you eyed the basket. “I don’t feel much like reading anymore... how about I help you pick the berries? That way you can be done sooner and go to bed?”

Barbatos chuckled warmly.  “Your courtesy never fails to impress me. I’m glad the brothers have you as a positive influence.”

You rolled your eyes and shifted awkwardly beneath his praise. “Well, I don’t know about that...”

He laughed. “Able to provide compliments, but unable to receive them, I see...” he teased, as he stood up and grabbed the basket.

“Hey,” you chided playfully.  “Pot, meet kettle.”

You followed his movement with your own, your arms stretching the tiredness from your body as you raised your hands over your head and arched your back slightly. Barbatos watched you silently, the neutralness returning briefly to mask the way his eyes followed the curve if your spine. You were unaware, your eyes not watching him in that moment as you sighed and released your stretch, your arms returning to your sides.

You both began to gather the berries from the lower boughs, while Barbatos’s tail held the basket between you. After a few minutes, he broke the silence.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“Hm?”

“The pot and the kettle. It sounds like a human colloquialism.”

“Oh!” you laughed. “It’s because they’re both black.”

“Ah, I see.... so you’re saying I’m a hypocrite?” he replied.

You grinned at him and shrugged. “If the shoe fits...”

“Another human phrase, I see. Are you doing this on purpose?”

You giggled. “Perhaps...”

Barbatos’s calm expression turned into one of hidden mischief. “Every day I learn more and more why the brothers cherish you so.”

Heat instantly rolled across you, and you averted your eyes with a bite of your lip. Barbatos watched the action, transfixed, as you continued to pluck berries, the blood red juices staining your fingertips.

“You’re a very old demon, aren’t you?” you asked.

The question took him by surprise, and he hesitated for a fraction of a moment as if he feared his response would sacrifice something.  But he mentally shook it off quickly and answered, “Yes.”

You smiled to yourself as you pulled down a branch, your fingers picking.  “So how do you not know English idioms?”

Barbatos gave a small laugh.  “Aside from the fact that you humans have countless languages, each with their own unique phrases, the crux of the truth is that it has been a very long time since I’ve spent time in human realm.  Your species evolves quickly by demon standards, your languages always changing.  Whatever I knew of your world before has long since been gone.”

“Don’t you go there for tea once in a while?”

Barbatos chuckled. “True, but my visits are brief to acquire what I need.  It hardly grants me enough time to keep up with the nuances and evolution of your realm’s vast variety of cultures.”

“Hm,” you replied thoughtfully.  “How about Devildom culture? What idioms do you have here?”

Barbatos paused in his picking, to think.  “Hmm,” he hummed. “We have one phrase ‘when the sun rises’, which means something that will never happen.”

You chuckled.  “That one’s easy enough to figure out... we have a few like that too. ‘When pigs fly.’”

Barbatos glanced at you. “Your pigs do not fly?”

Your eyes locked with his, a deer in headlights as you mentally questioned if such a thing existed here in the Devildom.

Then a soft mirth unfolded in a gentle, mischievous curl of his lips.  “Just kidding...”

You laughed and threw a berry at him which he dodged smoothly.  “Brat! You almost had me there.”

“I was simply evening the score,” he replied.  He looked down at the basket now brimming with bloodberries. “I believe we have enough.”

You dropped the last few into the basket and wiped your hands on your robe. “It will make a lot of pies.”

Barbatos chuckled.  “Perhaps I will use some for jam. Or even make demonus, although it would take thousands of years to reach something worthy of the young master’s palate.”

“Whatever you do, I’m sure it’ll be amazing. Your cooking never disappoints, Barbatos,” you replied.

“Half of the success is in the quality of the ingredients,” he explained.  “This tree has been here for thousands of years and produces the sweetest bloodberries in all of the Devildom. There are bottles of demonus deep in the demon lord’s cellars that date back to the first demon king’s reign, and their flavor still holds to this day.”

You gave a low whistle.  “Those must be expensive.”

“Indeed. So I’ll be very grateful if you keep that fun fact to yourself,” Barbatos replied with amusement.  “Mammon’s thieving skills improve every day. I’d like to at least keep one treasure hidden from his knowledge.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you grinned.

A soft pause drifted between you as you stared at each other, the basket held between you in the demon’s hands.

“Thank you for your assistance this evening,” Barbatos said quietly.  “I wish there were some way I could adequately repay you.”

“Repayment isn’t necessary,” you replied.  “I helped because I wanted to. It’s what friends do.”

The word ‘friends’ sounded strange on your tongue, as if it didn’t quite fit the shape of the peace that shrouded both of you in the privacy of the late hour.  It tasted off, your mouth drying up, and suddenly you found it hard to swallow. You cleared your throat slightly.

The corner of Barbatos’s lips turned up slightly, and he stepped closer to you. “Perhaps repay was the wrong term. Appreciation would have been more appropriate.  Is there anything that you’d like?  Anything that is within my power to provide?”

Your pulse quickened, your heart pounding in your chest, and suddenly it felt harder to breath.  He was closer than he normally was, his eyes staring into yours, and for a wild brash moment, your mind, heart, and body all screamed as one:

A kiss.

It was what you wanted to say, what every inch of you craved.  But this was Barbatos.  So, instead you identified a far more reasonable request.

“May I try a berry?” you asked.

Barbatos’s eyes widened in surprise, then his face broke into a smile as he laughed.  “Of course.”

He scanned the contents of the basket, and picked out a large one, plump with juice. He held it out to you, and for the most agonizing moment, you weren’t sure if you should eat it from his hand or take it with your fingers. You finally forced your hand to take the fruit.

You popped it in your mouth and bit into it, and the flavor exploded, honey sweet, with an undercurrent of tang that made you instantly want to suck the juices down. You swallowed it, your taste buds instantly craving more.  It tasted like temptation; it tasted like sin. You wondered if this was the forbidden fruit that tempted Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

“Wow...” you breathed.

 “As I said, this tree produces the best bloodberries in the Devildom.  They are none like it.”

“.... may I have one more?” you asked, your eyes on the basket.

Barbatos shook the basket slightly and picked another, slightly bigger than the first. It was so juicy, that the liquid filled your tongue and nearly forced its way past your lips to dribble down your chin.  It glistened on your lips, nearly black in the dark of the night.

Barbatos chuckled.  “Messy...” he commented softly.  His thumb came up and wiped the juice from your lip. It stained his thumb, sat upon it like a raindrop.  He stared at it for a moment, contemplating it.  Then he put his thumb in his mouth and sucked the juice off as he watched your reaction carefully.

You stared at him wide-eyed, mouth slightly parted at his brazenness. And here you were trying to keep your manners...

“Did you just...?” your words faltered, but the implication remained.

Barbatos’s small mischievous grin returned, his absinthe green eyes darker as his long-kept secret unfurled in the form of his hand gently cupping your cheek.  He leaned forward and kissed you gently with a slight tilt of his head, and the tension you’d been holding within your ribs released like water.  It flowed through you, filling every nook and cranny of your mind, your heart, your lungs.

His lips were soft and warm, and you leaned into them with adoration and relief.  Your hands found their place against his chest, and you could feel his own demon heart pounding through his clothing, the beat of it rich and firm.  He pulled away slightly, and you stared into his eyes, a silent plea for more written in the upward tilt of your face and in the curve of your body against his.

Barbatos kissed you again, just as gentle as the first.  This time his mouth lingered, lips parting to allow his tongue to softly lick across your bottom lip as his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck.  You gasped softly at the feel of it as a lightheadedness lifted any remaining thoughts and carried them away like leaves on a breeze.  Your tongue tentatively met his, hesitant and slow as you let him taste you, savoring the ghosts of the fruit that lingered on your lips and your tongue.

He pulled away slightly again, your bodies still touching, his hand still on your neck, and looked down at you.  His gaze was tender and yet hungry.  Reserved on the surface, and yet deep within the black pupils there was a wildness, meticulously tamed.

“You make them taste even sweeter,” he said softly, the vibration of his voice resonating from his chest to yours.

You licked your lower lip where you still felt his presence, and Barbatos watched the action intently.  Just as you began to lean towards him for another kiss, the gong of the castle’s clocktower chimed its hourly melody. Two deep gongs followed after, marking the late hour.

The sound was enough to pull Barbatos’s attention from the moment, although the intimacy remained in the form of his hand resting gently on your back as your own fingers fiddled with the frills at his shoulder.  He looked up and through the boughs that swayed on a gentle breeze, his eyes staring distantly across the water.

“It’s late,” he commented.  “We will have to continue this another time.”

Disappointment pulled your expression into a faint pout.  “When?” you asked.

Barbatos’s gaze returned to you, and he smiled down at you gently.  He took your chin in his fingers and placed a soft kiss to your forehead. 

“Soon,” he replied.

His answer felt incomplete, far too vague for your liking.  You broke your eye contact with him as you looked down at the buttons of his uniform.

Barbatos was never one to miss even the smallest hints of expression, and he chuckled lightly.

“How about tomorrow night. Here.” He offered. “I will bring the basket and we can gather more berries before they are past their prime.”

He enjoyed the way your eyes met his again, your face once again alight with happiness.  “I’d like that.  Maybe you can teach me how to make the jam.”

“I’d be happy to,” he replied.  “I’m sure Luke will also be interested in learning some new recipes as well.”

You smiled.  “What time would you like to meet?”

He brushed a stray hair from your face, his fingers following the shape of your your cheek, your jaw, until your chin was once again gently held in his fingers.  He stared at your lips again as he answered.

“At the eleventh hour,” he replied.

“That’s late for you, isn’t it?” you asked. “You’ll be tired, won’t you?”

Barbatos smirked.  “I am far more resilient than you give me credit for, my dear.  I’ve managed my duties on much less.  Besides...”-- he gave your lips a quick peck, a brief surrender to temptation -- “when else will either of us have time alone to be together?”

You smiled.  “True.”

Pleased at your response, Barbatos provided another kiss to your lips, this time lingering to savor. You knew it was goodbye for tonight, and yet your body did not care, every nerve once again awakening at his touch, wanting more.  But you kept your desire in check, in the hopes that your patience would eventually be rewarded at tomorrow night’s clandestine meeting.

Barbatos pulled away from you slowly, his thumb providing a gentle, final stroke to the soft skin of your cheek.

“You should return to the House of Lamentation,” he said quietly.  “Get what little rest you can before tomorrow.”

“I will,” you replied.

His hand trailed down your arm until he held your fingers in his.  With his eyes locked on you, he brought your hand up and kissed the back of it gently.

“Good night, my dear.” he whispered with a smile.

“Good night, Barbatos.”

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts. 

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening. 

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text. 

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.' 

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:' 

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?' 

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.  

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door. 

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-" 

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!" 

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe." 

With a weak smile, you headed off. 

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car. 

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window. 

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes. 

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'. 

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up. 

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you. 

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement. 

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand. 

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in. 

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in. 

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef. 

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen. 

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath. 

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-" 

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face. 

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost." 

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!" 

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight. 

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away. 

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips. 

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said. 

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter. 

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved. 

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped. 

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…" 

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. 

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie. 

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on. 

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be. 

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed. 

And in front of that crowd was Carmy. 

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning. 

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. 

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse. 

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes. 

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello". 

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen. 

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!" 

Your shoulder sagged. 

Home. 

You were home. 

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" 

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument. 

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker. 

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?" 

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay." 

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through. 

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him. 

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention. 

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you. 

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver. 

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out. 

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids. 

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again. 

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut. 

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. 

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you. 

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing. 

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something. 

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you. 

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy. 

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event. 

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh. 

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed. 

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces. 

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers. 

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself. 

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize. 

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said. 

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside. 

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (2)

Chapter 2: RunRunRun

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

Warnings: cussing really

Word count: 6,657

Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hihi, second chapter is out!! I hope you all enjoy it and leave feedback, I really really appreciate that!! Taglist is still open for those interested. Do not forget to check out the playlist and listen to the song before or while reading (RunRunRun)!! Thank you. Now, enjoy!

Taglist: @orshii @lovely-red2 @juicy-red @scarfac3 @sunaswifes-blog

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

『I always thought it would be easy (easy)

To get you out my mind (mind)』

            Certainly my sleep could’ve been more peaceful, but after the shit I pulled—drew Mingi’s eyes, for fuck’s sake—I knew I was in for a long night of overthinking and overanalyzing everything. Just for a second I allowed myself to place aside all judgement and foulness I felt towards the smug prick and, yes, admitted, that perhaps he wasn’t too bad to look at. Not a little bit, not even at all. However, this thought unsettled me and quickly made me remember how my blood boiled and nerves rose caused by his stuck-up attitude and irritating smirk. He was an asshole full of himself, and there was no way in hell I would allow his mild handsomeness overshadow his good for nothing personality. Guys like him were only by your side for a short while, while the relationship would feel new and exciting, and after that they dip like you have never even existed on the surface of Earth. That thought alone made me groan last night and punch a pillow before I finally willed my mind to calm down and erase the knowledge of his existence—or of the very obvious drawing of his eyes in my sketchbook, which I started considering my journal at some point.

If the lack of sleep wasn’t enough to put me in a sour mood, then the chilly air of the morning certainly made me grit my teeth as I stormed back inside the house to grab my beige and maroon plaid flannel shirt before running off to catch the bus to university. Currently, Seulgi and I were sat in the cafeteria enjoying our lunches—well, she was, my appetite never found me today—as I chewed the last bits of my quite simple sandwich I have packed in a haste this morning, Seulgi’s mouth, despite being full, was constantly moving and spouting information after information. I was only half-heartedly listening to her at this point—I swear to God, Wooyoung has been the center of our conversation for the past half an hour—as I held my pencil between my fingers and mindlessly doodled in my sketchbook. I wasn’t drawing anything particular, just random shapes which my brain felt necessary to draw as Seulgi suddenly hiccupped, face turning red. I cast her a glance as she quickly opened her bottle of water and chugged down at least half of its contents.

“Are you good?” I asked amused as she fanned her face.

“I think I almost just died.” Her answer made me snort as I grabbed the apple off my tray and bit into it, almost instantly regretting it as I was never a fan of apples.

“No wonder, you keep talking with your mouth full.” I muttered and Seulgi rolled her eyes as she went back to eating her lunch, smiling to herself like an idiot. I rolled my eyes but basked in the silence, finally able to have a little bit of peace of mind. I loved Seulgi and her random rambles, but not when they were about Wooyoung. And lately he seemed to be the only thing she talked about.

“Did you get to rest last night?” She asked as she gulped down her soup, eyebrows furrowed as she took in my appearance, seemingly finally aware that I looked tired. I shook my head with a sigh and turned the page of my sketchbook as I have filled the other one with shapes. Seulgi glanced down at the clean page and grimaced, leaning in closer towards me, “Just how stressed are you right now? That’ll be your third page in the past fifteen minutes.”

“I’m not really stressed,” I corrected her, taking another bite of the apple and regretting it again, “I’m just bored and probably restless.”

“Why?” Seulgi inquired and I shrugged, pressing the pencil against the white sheet of paper and carefully starting to draw sharp and precise lines.

“Don’t know,” I muttered, eyebrows furrowing when suddenly the cafeteria was filled with noise as if a whole crowd entered it, “Mom says it’s the full moon.”

“That was like…almost two weeks ago.” Seulgi gave me a deadpanned look and I chuckled, shrugging again. I most certainly wasn’t going to tell her that I haven’t slept well last night because I drew Mingi’s eyes and then freaked out over it, and was still pretty much freaking out about it, because I didn’t know what this meant and why it happened. And I really didn’t want to find out as I mindlessly pressed a small but firm dot underneath the lines I drew on the left side of the paper.

“I don’t know then, Seulgi, you know I have periods when I can’t sleep.” Seulgi hummed at my response and then a coy smile made its way onto her lips and I raised my eyebrows, pressing her to go on and tell me what was on her mind.

“What did you think of Noir Zenith?” I didn’t want to talk about this.

“They were fine.” I answered boredly, drawing a small semi-circle underneath the sharp lines, “Nothing too impressive. I’m now convinced you only like them because of Wooyoung.”

“Stop!” Seulgi shushed me with a blush and pointed her fork at me threateningly, “I actually enjoy their music, alright?! I liked the band before I started liking Wooyoung, so stop being mean.”

“Whatever,” I stuck my tongue out at her as I added a bit of shading to the drawing, “I expected their music to be worse, that I’ll admit, however, I only vibed with Seonghwa and Wooyoung—”

“Yeah, you made that very clear, Y/N.” Seulgi cut me off with a sharp tone and it brought a sheepish smile onto my lips as I was about to take another bite of my apple just as I narrowed my eyes at the drawing, staring at it for a second longer. And then it clicked. Fuck. I quickly shut my sketchbook closed as I threw my pencil on the table, groaning loudly. I couldn’t believe it. Why was I doing this? Why was I drawing Mingi’s eyes again?

『I think I found a new addiction

It feels so right』

“What?” Seulgi asked confused as she gazed at my closed sketchbook.

“Nothing.” I muttered lowly, banging my head against the table once before taking another bite of my apple, trying to ignore the way my heart started to race. There must be something about his eyes if my brain decided to burn it into its memory and recall it at any given time my pencil touched a piece of paper as I let loose to draw mindlessly.

“You’ve been acting weird all day long, Y/N.” Seulgi raised an eyebrow and I sighed, slouching down in my seat as suddenly there was a roar of cheers. I wasn’t interested at all to know what was happening behind me; therefore I found no desire in myself to turn around and look. It was probably the football team or some noisy first year’s having a little bit too much fun in the cafeteria while they totally disregard that, perhaps, some people would like to hear their own thoughts while given a longer break from their studies. My lips pulled into a sneer and I almost turned around to find the culprits I could glower at, but Seulgi found her voice again now that she was done with her lunch, “Wooyoung complimented my outfit twice last night, Y/N, twice! I was seriously freaking out!”

“Oh, wow,” I muttered unimpressed, not having it in me to tell her that she’s told me that information three times now, “and yet you kept stressing about it.”

“I couldn’t help myself,” Seulgi pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “I was so nervous. It was the first time he invited me to their performance—”

“Haven’t you seen them countless of times before last night?” I asked with narrowed eyes and Seulgi rolled her eyes with a tsk.

“But this was different, Y/N, you’re so impossible I don’t even know why I’m telling you all of this—”

“Yeah, me neither.” I gaped at her fakely, making Seulgi roll her eyes, “This is the third time I’m hearing everything, Seulgi.”

“Well, sorry for being excited about my crush finally showing interest in me.” Seulgi’s voice hardened as she snapped and I pouted, knowing that I have upset her. She threw me a glare as she grabbed her phone, acting uninterested as I reached over the table and softly gripped her wrist. I knew she couldn’t resist when I acted cute.

“Sorry, you know I’m cranky when I don’t sleep, don’t get mad.” I coerced her with a sweet voice and she just spared me a glance before going back to her phone. I sighed dramatically and retreated my hand, falling back into my chair and groaning as I closed my eyes briefly. My muscles were sore from sitting almost all day long, and my eyes hurt from too much light and staring at my sketchbook even when it wasn’t necessary. I opened my eyes and allowed them to roam over the cafeteria as I decided to quickly finish the little apple I have left over and took in the students around us. All groups were enjoying their free time quietly, speaking amongst themselves in a moderate tone, not loud enough to disturb anyone, yet there was one fucking table which just wouldn’t shut up, and fed up with it, I whirled around in my chair and searched for them, nose flaring in irritation. However, when my eyes landed on the culprits, my heart fell into my ass and my jaw clenched as I allowed the vicious glare to overtake my features as I sent daggers towards them. There he sat. At the table closest to the entrance, clad in a much more casual outfit compared to last night with sunglasses obscuring his view—who the fuck wears sunglasses inside—as he was surrounded by at least five girls. Mingi was leaning back in his chair, body falling against it awkwardly as his limbs were too long for it, legs spread out wide as he currently had his hands behind his head, smirking up at the blonde girl from the pub. Huh, so she goes to our university, should’ve expected that.

“Disgusting.” I sneered quietly, enticed by the view as my body wallowed in irritation, hatred and disgust, wishing for nothing more than to slam my sketchbook against Mingi’s head and scream the most creative profanities in his face. He was just asking for it with his smug face and shit eating grin, acting like he was a God, above everyone else, making girls swoon for his ass when he wasn’t even all that great.

“What’s—oh.” Seulgi cut herself off once her eyes followed my gaze and she chuckled. I could see her raise an eyebrow from the corner of my eyes as she watched me before looking back at Mingi, leaning back in her chair as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, “You never explained why you hate him so much.”

“Ugh, just look at him!” That was all Seulgi had to say to set me off, “He’s self-centered and conceited! He’s a jerk and he treats everyone else like they are less than him, and oh, my God, don’t even get me started about his stupid smirk which screams, ‘oh, look! I’m better than you ever will be, and by the way, you’re dumb as fuck!’, God, I hate the guy.”

Seulgi’s eyebrows went up to her hairline that’s how high they were raised as I turned around to look at her, having seen enough of Mingi’s stupid side profile as he smirked and laughed at every stupid thing those girls were probably saying to him, “Okay, Miss I hate his pants so much I can’t stop staring at him; that was intense, what the fuck. Poor Mingi, he didn’t even do anything to you and here you are—dragging his ass like he killed your cat or something, Y/N.”

“That would be the last straw—”

“You don’t even have a cat.” Seulgi deadpanned and I sighed exasperated, throwing an irritated smile her way. She was supposed to be on my side, not defending an asshole when she could clearly see how much distaste I had towards him.

“Whatever, I just can’t stand him, alright?” I muttered at last with a huff and Seulgi cocked an eyebrow as her phone pinged, quickly looking down at it. Her mouth instantly stretched into a huge smile and she started bouncing her legs up and down as she slapped the table once very loudly.

“I’m about to die—” She took a deep breath as she squealed quietly, looking at me like she has won the lottery or something, “Wooyoung finally asked me to hang out!”

I smiled at my best friend, happy that things were going well for her, “So, it’s a date then?”

“Not yet.” She smiled as she was texting back, biting her lower lip with a huge smile on her face, “But perhaps soon.”

“Oh, he better ask you out soon,” I muttered just as another roar of squealing disturbed my pace of mind and I have reached my limit for today, that was it, “Or I’ll make him regret being born.”

Seulgi cackled at that as I grabbed my sketchbook and pencil and showed them inside my backpack, “Y/N! That’s too much, don’t you think—Where are you going?”

“Class.” I answered curtly, throwing my flannel shirt around my exposed shoulders as I wore a dark blue off-shoulder long sleeved blouse, paired with black ripped jeans and fishnets underneath.

“We’ve got like ten more minutes until then—”

“Yeah, but if I hear Mingi’s bitches squealing again in the next three seconds I might go ahead and jump out the fucking window.” I deadpanned and Seulgi bit her lower lip as it quivered, threatening to burst out into laughter. It wasn’t funny, and so, I gave her a harmless glare.

“Oh, God, you’re impossible. I can’t believe you’re this cranky.” She said as she finally started laughing.

“This isn’t me being cranky, this is me being irritated by someone’s whole ass existence, anyways, see you!” I called as I took off before Seulgi could say anything else, I knew she’d be following me soon after as we had to walk to the other side of campus to reach the Art’s building.

『Run, baby, run

Run for your life

I'ma tear out your heart

It'll always be mine』

I steeled my expression and pushed my shoulders back as I took off towards the exit, gripping the straps of my backpack tightly. The closer I got to it—which meant I was also getting closer and closer to the table Mingi sat at—the louder those girls voices got. Anyone close enough could hear what they were screaming about—okay, they weren’t screaming, but they were loud—and it made me bite my lower lip as I started tapping my finger against the strap of the backpack, trying to calm my nerves. But Mingi was just sitting there, basking in the attention, grinning and laughing loudly at the very shitty and poor attempts of flirting of the girls, and I really didn’t mean to, but my eyes landed on them and my jaw fell a little bit open when I noticed him signing some stupid looking banner with his face plastered all over it as a black-haired girl was gushing about his looks and deep voice. Where the hell were we? Highschool?! I knew Seulgi was praying right now to all the existing Gods and asking them to let me pass by their table without no disturbances, but that just wasn’t possible as my cheeks flushed in disgust and anger, shooting a sharp glare at the side of Mingi’s face.

“Even your autograph is pretty.” One of the girl’s sighed dreamily, “Can you get any more perfect?”

“Oh, angel, you haven’t even seen everything and you’re already head over heels for me?” Mingi’s voice dropped a few octaves as he blinked up at the girl seductively and I might have as well thrown up in my mouth. I scoffed as I passed behind him, stomping my feet perhaps a little bit too hard as I noticed two girls glance my way.

“Assuming things once again, aren’t you?” My tone was snappy and ice cold as I threw in the comment in passing. I didn’t intend on stopping, but Mingi’s instant reply made me halt.

“Insulting others once again, aren’t you?” I huffed quietly as I bit my lower lip, whirling around. For a second I was taken aback by the unimpressed looks thrown my way by the girls, but I didn’t let it show on my face.

“Only those worthy of getting put in their places, Mingi.” I allowed a cheeky smile slip onto my lips as I stared him down, his eyebrows slightly furrowing. I was surprised to see the dark eyeshadow give more depth at the outer corner of his eyes, the makeup being absent last night. His lips were shiny and you could see the blemishes clearly on his jawline now, his black hair still covering his forehead messily. His grey jumper was oversized and reached mid-thigh over his denim jeans; matching jacket draped around his chair.

“Isn’t it a delight seeing you today as well, Y/N.” Mingi’s tone was mocking as he raised one eyebrow, making me roll my eyes, “Good morning.”

“My morning was good until I heard your puppets and you giggling as if we were in highschool—and it’s noon, Mingi, thought you were smart enough to know lunch time was during noon.”

“What’s your problem?” The blonde snapped and placed a possessive hand on Mingi’s shoulder, which made him cast her a side glance. His lips twitched, and for a second—just a little second—I was able to see the irritation in his eyes at the unwanted touch; it almost made me furrow my eyebrows and throw a questioning glance at Mingi, but I stopped myself. I was certainly misreading his expressions. He loved this, the attention and praises. He was pathetic.

“You and the dude you’re worshiping as if he were a Greek God—” I sighed dramatically, leaning down a little as I made eye contact with Mingi, “Get over yourself.”

It made him chuckle and his nose scrunched up, eyes slightly becoming smaller, but there was no humor in the sound he made, “At least they don’t show up to a performance without knowing the artists and start shitting on them unwarranted, insulting them as if they were superior to them. I say you’ve got something to learn from these girls, Y/N.”

I scoffed and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “Yeah, like what? How to pucker my lips and bat my eyelashes at you to gain your attention? Or throw in cringey flirting and nonconsensual touches?” 

The girls seemed shocked as I threw them all a glare before my gaze landed on the embarrassing banner as I felt Mingi’s heated gaze on my face. He didn’t say anything as his jaw clenched, palms balling up into fists. My eyes fell back on him and our gazes locked, both of us annoyed at this point, as we stared each other down, glares molding into one sharp look as we both refused to look away first. If he thought I was going to back down, he was wrong. His sharp eyes were narrow as a fierce look glazed over them, and for a split second, my eyes fell on the mole underneath his right eye. The drawing I was doodling not even half an hour ago flashed in my mind and I clicked my tongue, suddenly irritated with myself and with Mingi for getting to me so easily.

『Oh, there she go

Losing my head』

“Your silence says everything I needed to know—”

“Don’t get too cocky, smarty pants, silence speaks louder at times and you’re down right embarrassing yourself right now.” My jaw hung open at Mingi’s next words, which were harsh and hissed out as his raspy voice reached my ears, and I sneered at him.

“The only embarrassing one here,” I looked around, “are your puppets, bro. And that fucking shit ass banner.”

Before anyone could say anything I whirled around and stormed off, aware that Seulgi had seen the exchange from afar and was up on her feet, basically scurrying around to gather her things and come to the rescue of Mingi. I just knew she’d have his back and I really didn’t have the energy to sit around and listen to her chastise me in front of him and his baboons. However, I did hear the girls throwing insults after me, Mingi remaining an awful lot silent. It’s not like he could’ve said anything. And I knew he wished to say them to my face, to see the rise he got out of me. I scoffed as I stormed out the building, wanting to let out a frustrated cry in the meantime.

『Please don't waste any time

The sirens are turning red

I found a whole another vice』

            It had gotten dark outside by the time Seulgi and I headed to our curricular art class, fog slowly settling upon our little town as the lampposts illuminated the dark streets, casting an aery yet comforting feeling. I would have to walk home later tonight, but I found the thought relaxing and much needed after the tumultuous day I have had. I couldn’t stand still all day after the encounter with Mingi and his baboons, I couldn’t help but mull over his words over and over again, so much so, that I got called out in one of the classes by the professor. It was embarrassing, but what was even more embarrassing was that one of the girl’s from the table shared three classes with me and kept sending me unwanted glares, pissing me off to no end. If Seulgi wouldn’t have been by my side the whole day, I probably would’ve confronted the girl and cussed her out, ruining my image more in her eyes, if that was even possible.

I was slouched forward, chin resting on my palm and elbow pressing into my thigh as I listened to Seulgi ramble on about how her hangout with Wooyoung went. Her cheeks had a constant flush on them and I grinned as she sucked in a deep breath as she desperately needed it after talking for a few good minutes without stopping.

“And he bought me coffee too even though I never asked,” She bit her lip, trying to contain herself, “He was waiting for me with it in his hands.”

“That’s sweet of him.” I mumbled and looked behind Seulgi, looking out towards the class. Today not many could make, there was a total of five students sitting around the room, working diligently on their sketches. Today’s theme was the human body, a shape or an outline of your choice. It could be a face, a body, or a shadow like figure. Everyone had free reign of choosing the style as long as it was a human shape.

“I know, and his hands were freezing cold,” Seulgi gushed, “So, I gave him my gloves.”

“The Hello Kitty ones?” I asked with a quiet chuckle, turning the pencil over in my hands. I was itching to get started on our assignment, but Seulgi was on her rant once again and I didn’t want to interrupt her again. I have felt bad all day long for upsetting her in the cafeteria; I shouldn’t ruin her mood just because I’m cranky myself.

“Yes!” Seulgi laughed while covering her mouth, “And he looked so cute wearing them, Y/N! We couldn’t stop giggling about it. Pink might be his color.”

“You should’ve dared him to wear something pink at their next performance.” I added with a chuckle, making Seulgi giggle as her cheeks flushed even a darker shade of red. If she kept up with this, her whole face would turn red and she’d look like a tomato.

“I don’t think that would fit the whole rocker concept they have going on.” She muttered with a chuckle and I just shrugged, glancing at my bare paper. I hoped Seulgi would get the hint that I really wanted to start drawing now, but she opened her mouth again.

“He suggested we take a selfie—” Seulgi let out a dreamy sigh, “I don’t think I have enough self-control to not set it as my lock screen.”

“Wouldn’t that be too fast?” I wondered, raising an eyebrow at her. Seulgi nodded, looking slightly defeated.

“It would, I just hope the day will come when I’ll be able to do so.” Her voice got quieter as she looked down at the ground and I didn’t like the sudden drop of confidence. So, I grabbed her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, smiling at her encouragingly.

“It will come, stop doubting everything and just go with the flow.” I offered her a big smile, “I know Wooyoung is a generally nice guy, but his kindness feels different with you. It’s sweet.”

“Stop.” Seulgi hushed me, lightly slapping my arm, “You’re feeding into my delusions, I don’t want to get hurt if things really don’t end well.”

“Have some faith in him, yeah?” I slapped my hands together as I straightened in my seat, glancing at Seulgi’s usual spot, “Shouldn’t you start drawing, though? We’ve got an hour only today.”

“Shit!” Seulgi exclaimed loudly as if she just remembered where we were and what we were doing, “I totally forgot what I’m supposed to be doing right now, this is embarrassing.”

“Off you go!” I shooed her off with a laugh and Seulgi scrambled to her place, face red as she quickly tied her long hair in a low ponytail, eyebrows furrowing as she opened her sketchbook. Despite Wooyoung being the only thing on her mind, I knew she wouldn’t be drawing him. Seulgi was spontaneous and very creative. She found it easy to draw whatever was on her mind, whether it was human shaped, abstract, or a landscape. She had a natural talent when it came to human figures and she absolutely loved drawing anyone whom she had in mind. Which was the opposite of me. I couldn’t draw just anyone. It took me lots of hours of studying and tracing ones features with imaginary lines, mapping out their faces and bodies in my mind carefully before putting them on paper. I needed a muse when it came to drawing humans, and before dating Yunho, I never even had one. Before dating Yunho, I could barely draw an eye. During our relationship I learned many things about myself, and one of them was that I needed to hyper fixate on something—or someone—if I wanted to place them on a paper. It wasn’t obsession, I wouldn’t call it that, it simply was something I found beautiful and inspiring enough to put on paper. I usually did it mindlessly too, used to always drawing Yunho when it came to this subject, so I didn’t bat an eyelash as I relaxed my muscles and allowed my mind to rest as my hand took over, bravely creating lines on the blank paper.

『I always thought it would be easy (easy)

To get you out my mind (mind)』

However, to my utter shock, it didn’t take long for me to realize that the man in my drawing, even by its simple outlines, wasn’t Yunho. It looked nothing like him. My quiet thoughts started to get louder and louder the longer I allowed my hand to trace new lines, go over the older ones and bolden them. Shadows casted over the sharp eyes as I traced the outline of their tall nose, eyebrows scrunching when it seemed like the man was glaring back at me. I couldn’t help but glare back, repulsed by the nagging name ringing through my mind the second I placed the mole underneath his right eye. Mingi. Song Mingi. I didn’t want to admit it. This wasn’t him. The man in my drawing wasn’t Song Mingi. It looked nothing like him. It was pure coincidence that his nose and eyes and moles were in the same spot as Mingi’s. My hand faltered and grip tightened around the pencil once I got to draw the lips, wondering whether I wanted to finish this sketch today—or any other day at all. Deep down I knew I didn’t, but I also hated leaving my works unfinished and there was something deep inside me telling me to suck it up, to stop being childish. It was just a damn drawing. It meant nothing. It really didn’t. Especially since I couldn’t stand him. His annoying stupid smirk. My jaw clenched when Mingi’s smug face stared back at me, almost as if my brain took a picture of his face during lunch break and decided to taunt me by recalling every single detail as I worked diligently.

『I think I found a new addiction

It feels so right』

I have long finished the drawing, giving up to finishing it thoroughly as I felt my muscles spasm just at the thought of perfecting Mingi’s face in my own sketchbook. Anyone could see this. Hell, the other students in this class could ask me to show them my drawing for some inspiration and then I’d be fucked. There’s no way others didn’t know about Mingi and his band. Perhaps I had been the only one living under a rock this whole time, oblivious to the music department and their endeavors at our university. And if word got out that I started drawing Song Mingi, I’d rather die than face him ever again. That simply just wasn’t possible. I refused to even entertain such thought. I’d rather draw my ex of five years and have others think I still wasn’t over him—I seriously am—and bash me for living in the past than start talking about my—inexistent—crush on Song Mingi. The shuffling of papers and sudden movement of others in the room brought me out of my glaring contest with the fake Mingi on my paper and I turned around when I heard my name being called out.

“Could you check this out for me?” Jake, a second-year student, asked shyly. I nodded with a smile and got off my stool, stretching, before I headed his way. He wasn’t an art major, but he apparently had always enjoyed drawing, so he joined our little club. His skills were pretty good, but he still had a lot to learn. As I stopped by his desk, I was met with the face of a girl. She was smiling brightly and the drawing was really good, the shading lacked, but that wasn’t such a big problem.

“Oh, this one is really good, Jake. You’ve gotten a lot better lately.” I offered him an encouraging smile as I patted his back, “Maybe adding a bit more shading next time will do the trick better, hm?”

“Thanks!” Jake beamed as he started gathering his stuff, making me nod as Krystal, a classmate of Seulgi and I, beckoned me over.

“I suck at human shapes, you know that.” She said with a sharp chuckle, lips pulled into a grimace as she slowly turned her sketch around. Yeah, Krystal was really bad at human shapes but it wasn’t something to get judged for. Drawing humans was very difficult and I couldn’t blame her for struggling with it, when, I, myself struggled most of times. However, this drawing presented itself as her best so far.

“This is amazing, Krystal, what are you talking about?!” I exclaimed as I gaped at the outline of two girls leaning onto each other, hugging around the shoulders. One of them was taller and the other one had longer and lighter hair. It must’ve been her older sister and her in the drawing. Their faces weren’t detailed or defined, but their shapes were very beautiful and precise.

“Good, God, I never struggled this hard in my life before.” She said with a sigh and got off her stool as Jake and Yunjin waved goodbye and left. Seulgi bounced over, curious to see Krystal’s drawing, and squealed when she saw it.

“You have to show this to Professor Yoon!” Seulgi exclaimed, “He’ll pass you in a second straight to next year’s class.”

Her comment got Krystal laughing and I shook my head as I walked away once I noticed Yiren struggled packing her stuff away. She was the youngest in our club and a little clumsy, always bumping into things and dropping paint on the floor whenever we were painting. She thanked me quietly as she scrambled around to pack her things and then rushed away shyly, quietly thanking me as she ran out the door. I stopped for a second and wondered why she always looked so intimidated by me. Seulgi walked up to her desk and started putting her things away as well as I walked back to my place, grabbing my backpack to put my pencils away. Krystal and Wheein greeted us in unison before walking out the door, leaving Seulgi and I alone. She approached me with a huge grin on her face, dangling her drawing carelessly between her fingers. I chuckled as I watched her, raising an eyebrow, “Who did you draw?”

“Oh, Joohyun!” Seulgi grinned and showed me her drawing eagerly, her cousin’s face staring back at me as she was laughing hard. I could hear Joohyun’s cackling laughter echo in my head and I smiled at the drawing, missing the girl. She was a few years older than us and had moved away to a different country in order to pursue her modelling career. Seulgi and Joohyun were like sisters, and being Seulgi’s best friend, I had the pleasure of meeting the phenomenal woman her cousin was.

“This is so gorgeous, Seulgi.” I said with a pout and a sigh, “You made me miss Joohyun now.”

“She’s visiting in two months!” Seulgi exclaimed, the news sweeping excitement into my veins as my eyes widened.

“Really?!”

“Yes!” Seulgi grinned, closing her sketchbook, “I can’t wait for us to hang out, it’s been too long since we’ve seen Joohyun.”

“Indeed.” I sighed and picked up the rubber I have dropped like an hour ago, “I also wish I had your skills when it comes to drawing human shapes.”

“Why? So that you can draw Yunho better?” Seulgi’s cackle wasn’t malicious but there was slight judgement in her eyes as I rolled mine.

“You’re so funny today, have I already told you?” I mocked her and Seulgi huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“What? Tell me I’m wrong.” But before I could tell her she was wrong, she was speaking again, “I know you drew him again, Y/N.”

“I didn’t!” My response was too fast and defensive and I regretted speaking up the second I saw Seulgi’s eyes flash with interest.

“You didn’t draw Yunho?” She asked shocked, not even bothering to hide it. I sighed lowly, awaiting the questions tumbling off her lips for the next thirty minutes, “Who is it then?”

“No one important.” I muttered, eyes falling on the drawing, making me realize that I had to put it away before Seulgi got the chance of seeing it. I wouldn’t live another day if she got even a glimpse of it, “Let’s go.”

But as I reached for the sketchbook, Seulgi slapped my hand away hard—it started stinging instantly—and ripped my sketchbook off the drafting board. Her eyebrows furrowed for a second as her eyes took in the drawing, and then, a loud gasp left her lips as her eyes shot up, staring at me wide eyed, confusion written all over her face.

『Run, baby, run

Run for your life

Gonna tear out your heart

It'll always be mine』

“This isn’t Yunho—”

“I told you—”

“Bitch, this is Song fucking Mingi?!” Seulgi’s voice raised and I gulped, mentally preparing myself for the screaming and nagging to follow. But Seulgi sounded an awful lot composed despite the various emotions written all over her face, “What is Song Mingi doing in your drawing?”

“That’s not Song Mingi.” Was the best I could do as I scoffed, gripping the sketchbook as I tried to yank it out of her hands, but Seulgi was gripping it firmly.

“Yeah, sure, and I’m fucking blind then—” Seulgi rolled her eyes before giving me a deadpan look, “This is Mingi, Y/N, you’re not bullshitting your way out of this. Now, explain.”

“There’s nothing to explain.” I didn’t mean to snap, but it happened, “It’s not Mingi. Why the hell would I even draw that fucker? It’s just a random face which popped into my head and I drew it mindlessly, alright? Maybe it looks like Mingi, but it’s not him.”

“Yeah, sure, and I’m the fucking Pope in Vatican—”

“Seulgi!” I snapped and tugged on the sketchbook again, finally getting her to release it. She didn’t seem too impressed as I quickly shut the sketchbook and grabbed my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder, “Shut up and let’s just go.”

“The hell am I shutting up, bitch.” Seulgi scoffed as she got her backpack too, “That’s Mingi and you can’t gaslight me with this one. Are you into him—”

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed with disgust ridden all over my face, “Do you even hear yourself right now?! How could I be into him? I hate his guts!”

“That’s why you fucking drew him—”

“I didn’t draw him!” I finally exclaimed just as we got out the room, Seulgi shutting the door loudly behind us after she turned the lights off.

“You’ve been acting hella weird ever since we’ve been to Outlaw, Y/N, what are you not telling me?” Seulgi leaned against the wall as I locked up the room.

“I am not acting weird and there’s nothing I’m not telling you, so, will you just drop this whole thing?” I snapped, raising my eyebrows at her in irritation. Seulgi bit her lower lip and crossed her arms in front of her chest as she looked like she was contemplating. But one another glance at my face and she knew she wouldn’t get anything out of me, so she just sighed and shook her head as she pushed off the wall.

“Fine, let it be your way,” She muttered, falling in step with me by my side, “At least it’s not Yunho anymore. You’re finally getting over him—”

“Bitch, I’ve been over him for ages.” I threw my best friend a sharp glare and she just chuckled, shaking her head at me. I held back the urge to slap the back of her head hard in hopes that her delusional thoughts would get slapped out of her head with the effort.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She mocked and before I could go off on her again, she faced me and smiled brightly, “Want to get McDonald’s before we head home?”

All thoughts of Mingi and wanting to hold a whole ass speech to Seulgi about him flew out of my mind at the mention of said junk food and I nodded eagerly, linking my arm with Seulgi’s as she started talking about a girl in her history class and how she managed to embarrass herself and her professor at the same time today.

『Run, baby, run

Run, baby, run』

❱❱ Next chapter

[eddiessluttywaist]

as if (part 4 based on angst ending)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: continuation of the angst ending of as if, moves away from how eddie has been acting just so you know 👀

pairing: ex-bully!mean!perv!soft!eddie munson x fem reader

word count: 10,964 words

content/warnings: swearing, mentions of smutty content MDNI (y/n is 18/19), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, brief threats and violence, rejection, angsttt, depression, very brief mention of unhealthy eating habits, heartbreak, yearning, anxiety, arguing, crying, near death experience, regret, isolation and loneliness. i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i’m sorry this took me so long skbvdjkk enjoy the suffering. credit to whoever owns/posted that picture ^ it’s not mine :)

part one - part two - start of part three - angst ending to part three

*

Eddie Munson is an asshole.

He’s a cruel heartbreaker, that’s for sure. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He’s ruined love for you.

As much as that sentiment reeked of teenage melodrama, it’s still true. He’s ruined mean guys for you cause you know what to expect from them, and he’s ruined sweet guys for you cause you know better than to know what to expect. Eddie is someone who finds a way to be so sweet and charming for that subtle kind of control, just to turn out to be an asshole through and through. Every nicety and moment of tenderness was only to keep you on the hook for a good fuck; and if things hadn’t spiraled into an apocalyptic shitshow, he would’ve been the one and only reason for your aching misery.

He’s a lot of things. You could go through a list of adjectives that would make your mother gasp and cross herself.

He’s a life ruiner in so many ways—but he isn’t a killer.

Despite how he treated you, you liked to think you still had a good sense of his heart—even if he refused to give it to you the way you would’ve so readily given him yours. He’s smug and rotten, but murder is not something he’s capable of. Some violence? Probably. Maybe. Given the right circumstances. But he wouldn’t kill someone. So you were one of the few who weren’t surprised when news came out that he wasn’t to blame for everything that happened. Sure, there were still plenty of kooks who remained certain that he used his “ties with Satan” to open up a portal to Hell, but as more and more came out about that lab near the quarry—the rarer those types became.

By now nearly everyone’s forgotten about him, or at least that’s how it felt to you. No one talked about him—they didn’t even seem to think about him—but not you. Despite everything, his memory seemed to live on in your head. On repeat some days.

Just to clarify: he didn’t die. His memory didn’t need to be kept alive because he wasn’t—he was pretty damn close when he was found (at least from what you’ve heard), but he wasn’t dead. However, that didn’t change the fact that the people of Hawkins liked to act like he was. He was nowhere to be found for starters, and everyone left in town seemed to appreciate things that way so they didn’t have to address him.

The turnaround was baffling to you. How his name never even came up, and when it did people grew uncomfortable and tried to turn the conversation elsewhere. Even you—someone who decidedly hated his guts months before the day Chrissy Cunningham was found dead—thought he deserved something better than becoming a banned topic after what this town put him through.

You could remember the day he appeared on the news like it was yesterday.

You had been curled up on one corner of the couch of the living room, your mother on the other end, and your father in his La-Z-Boy. It was pitch black in the room with the only light source being the colorful and fuzzy glow of the television. It was unfortunately your mom’s night to watch her program so of course you and your dad were already half asleep by the time her show was suddenly interrupted.

“What the-!” your mom had gasped. “I wanna know what happens! Oh those darn news… people…”

She had trailed off as the reality of the emergency newscast sunk in, no longer reaching for the remote but settling back into her spot instead.

You didn’t really know Chrissy. She was popular and well-loved, and had hundreds of friends. You definitely weren’t one of them, though. Whether it was secretly too beneath her deep down in her innocent demeanor, or if you simply weren’t interested in gravitating around her enough for her to truly take notice of you. She was a sweet girl though. She was a senior like you and the few times you two interacted, she was nothing but kind. And even if she hadn’t been, she still wouldn’t have deserved what happened to her.

You remember your mother nervously toying that necklace she always wore as she watched the news with big eyes. The way your dad sat up more and gave the screen his full attention. The tension and anxiety that made the air in the living room feel heavy; and when you thought your throat couldn’t get any drier and your heart couldn’t race any faster—Eddie’s picture was plastered on the television.

You remember the way your hearing seemed to turn into a faint buzz as the newscaster spoke of the victim’s body being found in his trailer.

“I always knew that boy was trouble.” your dad grumbled out, and you had to fight the urge to huff out a laugh and tell him he had no idea.

Neither of them knew what happened between you two or that there was even a “you two” to begin with. And you certainly wouldn’t have said anything that night because then they’d know in the worst way possible. Admitting it back then at the start of Spring Break would’ve been admitting how deeply you had fallen for someone who was possibly wanted for murder.

Even if it was never explicitly stated that Eddie Munson had shattered your heart (when you were completely falling apart just a couple months before your hometown did the same) your mom had been quick to notice something was wrong. Motherly instincts or something like that—or, y’know, just the fact that you were visibly a mess.

Even at that start of it all you didn’t want to talk about that one particularly miserable day. You would wait until it was late at night to cry into your pillow. You had briefly lost some weight since the whole situation had left you with a solid knot in your stomach, leaving you horribly nauseous and deadening your appetite. The fact that you were constantly lying about being sick to avoid school was what truly confirmed your mom’s concerns.

Sure, you could’ve had a stomach bug. Maybe that’s why you had been picking at your food at dinner. Maybe that’s why you looked so pale and tired all the time. But then throughout the school week you would keep saying you were sick, and with the state you were in she didn’t have the heart to tell you your temperature was perfectly normal. Besides, you never skipped so she wasn’t all that suspicious at first so she let you stay home. You kept lying, though, and she finally felt she had to ask if something was going on at school.

You remember that time when boy problems still mattered so vividly. When Eddie Munson was still a mentionable name, even if you didn’t act like it. When your mom was checking in on you because of him and because her main concern was still little nuances in your behavior.

“Is something going on at school?” your mom had murmured softly as she sat on the edge of your bed.

It was nighttime and the only light in your room was the faint and warm glow of your bedside table, giving a false sense of comfort to the room that was filled with memories of him. Some spots of your room still smelled like him—especially by the window where he would sneak in, and sit on to smoke. It felt like cold spots in a haunted house to you.

“Is someone not treating you right?”

“No, mom, really. I just don’t feel well.” you murmured, and she can’t help but notice how dry your lips look. That little scab where you had been anxiously biting and picking at the skin there—a bad habit that only ever flared up when you were distraught, even as a child. You certainly looked ill, but her instincts were pointing elsewhere. She insisted you drink some of the water on your bedside table before she continued.

“Well…” she had sighed, smoothing out the blanket resting over you. “Is… is it a boy?”

You remember feeling your heart temporarily stop before lodging itself in your throat. You tried to ignore that burning feeling as you avoided breaking down and confirming her worries. But fighting it off didn’t mean that lump wasn’t in your throat. It didn’t mean your face didn’t get all warm as tears began to prick at your eyes. You were oddly silent as you kept your gaze down and shook your head. You were sure you could’ve held those tears in too, but then she got you to crack with a couple simple words.

“Oh honey…” She murmured and pulled you into her for a hug.

You didn’t want to tell anyone. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t even embarrassing—it was humiliating, mortifying. So you weren’t expecting how relieving it was to sob and finally let someone know, even if you didn’t go into detail.

“I thought he really cared about me d-deep down-“ you had wailed as your mom shushed you in a caring manner and rubbed your back.

You still appreciate the fact that she didn’t push. She didn’t urge you to tell her everything, she just let you cry until you were spent and she left to soak a face towel in cool water so she could press it to your flushed cheeks. She held you and murmured reassuringly, especially when you spoke up again—your voice horribly broken.

“I-It’s not fair because he’s perfectly fine and I… I’m…” you choked up after your tone got high with emotion before crumbling again.

“I know, honey, I know… it’s never fair…” she whispered. “But you’re gonna be okay. It feels like the end of the world now, but before you know it it’ll be a little bit better, okay?”

She had pulled back to look at you and wiped the tears off of your cheeks. “And then it’ll be better after that, and even more after that. You’re going to keep healing, I promise.”

In hindsight she wasn’t wrong, but there had still been so many days where you wished Eddie Munson would turn up dead for what he did to you. And now you felt horribly guilty for those thoughts after he had been so close. Even though you still despise him deep down, you hate yourself a little bit too. For letting him in, in the first place. For falling in love and for admitting it. For falling apart because he didn’t feel the same. For wishing he would drop dead.

And there was another thing that burned away at you. Right next to the fact that no one mentioned Eddie, was the frustrating fact that Jason was still talked about and practically canonized. There were portraits of him and Chrissy in local churches and in Hawkins High and sure maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but why wasn’t anyone talking about how he put fire under that ridiculous manhunt? To urge everyone to find Eddie and do who knows what to him?

Steadily approaching a year since Hawkins broke open, you’re scowling as you walk past that portrait of him in school. Having to repeat your senior year after the disaster threw everyone’s educational progress off the rails, you had to deal with that picture a lot. You turn your gaze elsewhere as you head to your last class of the day, and even that little glimpse of his image sparks up memories of his crazed state.

*

Jason had an inexhaustible vengeance, and refused to let anything—or anyone—get in his way. He had to find Eddie. He had to make him pay.

You didn’t know it at the time, but he had been hunting down Eddie’s closest friends and band mates to get information out of them. That’s how he found you.

“Where is he?” Jason shouted in Gareth’s face as he gripped him by the lapels of his cut up flannel.

“I don’t know!”

“Where is he!?”

“I don’t know!” Gareth insisted before Jason hit him again.

While a restrained Jeff shouted at him to leave his friend alone, Jason tossed him into his drums. A cymbal crashed while the set dispersed in different directions and Gareth was left lying on the floor of his garage.

“It’s gonna be hard to play those drums with a broken hand!” Jason rose his voice again, holding Gareth down by his back and crushed his hand between his sneaker and the concrete floor. There was an audible crunch as Gareth cried out in pain.

“Dustin!”

“What?”

“Dustin Henderson!”

“What?” Jason repeated, urging him to clarify.

“Dustin Henderson!” Gareth shouted again, face twisting in pain. “Man h-he was- he was calling around looking for Eddie! Maybe he found him! Maybe he found him!”

“See that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Jason taunted, but kept pressing his foot onto Gareth’s hand before finally stepping away.

“O-or y/n maybe, I don’t know.” Gareth cried out, cradling his hand that was pulsing with pain.

“Who?” Jason’s brow furrowed as he looked back at him.

Jeff spoke up for him, repeating your name in a panic.

“Y-yeah maybe. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her around him in a while, b-but I caught them fooling around in Eddie’s van once,” Jeff rambled on “And he was constantly messing with her. He… he might be with her. Or she might know.”

The more he thought about it, the more Jason remembered the occasional moment where he would see Eddie tossing things at you in class or pushing up against you in gym. Back in the car, Andy and Patrick chimed in with other things they witnessed. Eddie feeling you up. Eddie shoving you or knocking your books out of your hands. Eddie harassed you constantly. Maybe even being tutored by you (according to Andy). If you couldn’t join them through a mutual hatred for the metalhead, maybe you could at least be forced to give more information—especially if you had some fucked up relationship.

*

You were home alone despite your mother’s insistence to join her or your father at work. With two deaths and a possible killer still on the loose, she wasn’t wild about you being by yourself. You convinced her you could take care of yourself, especially with all the baseball bats and heavy golf clubs she kept around just in case.

Considering everything, you shouldn’t have opened the front door when someone rang, but you were so shocked to spot Jason Carver through your peephole to think about it. You weren’t impressed, even when he flashed you his best smile. You were just curious why he was here.

“Well, I’ll be quick. I’m sure you have better things to do.” he said with a soft laugh which you were sure he thought was charming. You just kept scowling.

“Yeah. I do,” you said bluntly and there was a flash of anger across his face for a moment before he filtered it through a weaker smile. “What do you want?”

“I just want to know if you have any idea where Eddie Munson is.”

You can’t help but scoff at this.

“No, and I really don’t care about where he could be.”

You’re about to close the door, but he was quick to speak up again and keep your attention.

“I heard you tutor him-“

“Not anymore. Too difficult.” You interrupted, and he faltered for a moment before continuing.

“I’m sure. I know how he treated you. It… it’s horrible really.” He spoke softly and you hesitated for a moment, hand still on the edge of your door.

But then you realized something.

If he knew, then where had he been? Why didn’t he do anything? Even if you didn’t want anyone to interfere—not really. Not to mention after he broke your heart and all ties were cut, Eddie surprisingly let up on the constant harassment. It wasn’t fun anymore. Soon enough he had been avoiding you in the halls as much as you had been avoiding him, but that didn’t mean everything before that never happened. If Jason really took notice of your interactions, where had he been?

“I could tell even then just from how he acted with you that he wasn’t a good person. He’s not a good person. He’s a killer, and he can’t be out here loose in Hawkins ready to claim another victim.”

You stare at him in silence. Your lack of response is clearly testing his patience and he’s parting his lips to speak up again, but you cut him off.

“Why now?”

“What?” Jason laughed this off casually.

“Why now are you suddenly so interested in how he used to treat me?”

“Oh, well I-”

“No,” you interrupted bluntly at your swift decision and with no room for fluff. No matter how much you hated Eddie. “I’m not here for your senseless propaganda. Thanks.”

You went to slam the door, but he kept it open. It touches on a memory of Eddie doing something similar once upon a time to get to you while you were all alone in your bedroom. The only difference is this isn’t Eddie, and Jason is really starting to scare you.

You glance over to see the concern on Lucas Sinclair’s face—you recognized him from the occasional interactions he had with Eddie and then from all the excitement of that recent basketball game he won for the high school team. He was behind Jason, a little off to the side and you spotted the car in the driveway with a few others inside. The fact that he had others with him didn’t exactly comfort you.

“I just want to know where that freak is, okay?” Jason clarified with a smile as if it covered the fact that he was clearly unstable. You could see it in his eyes.

“It’s dangerous with him out there. I’m just trying to help my community.”

“Whatever, Jason. Like I said: I’m not interested in any of this. I don’t talk to Eddie anymore. I don’t know where he fucked off to.”

“I know you’re screwing him. Just tell me where your creep boyfriend is.”

This sudden flash of anger and the contents of his accusation shocked you, but you didn’t let it force your guard down.

“I’m not with him like that. Like I said: I don’t fucking talk to him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jason still wasn’t budging, and you’re suddenly grateful for your mom’s incessant worrying when he took a step forward. You grabbed the metal bat your parents kept by the door right as he’s parting his lips to continue speaking.

“Get off my doorstep. Get away from me. Or I’m using this, Carver, I swear to god.”

This made him hold his hands up in defense and start to back off again, especially as Lucas murmured a swift “C’mon, man, maybe we should just leave her alone.” A sad excuse for a kind smile curved up the corners of the blond’s mouth. It made you sick.

“Just trying to take care of my community. No need to get violent… I’m one of the good guys. If you’re sure you don’t know anything—I’ll leave you be.”

“Well I don’t. How many times do I have to say it?” You snap, gripping the handle of the bat a bit tighter.

He finally started to walk off with an okay okay, but then he turned to look at you one more time.

“Be smart about which side you’re choosing.”

At that, you slammed your front door and locked it. One of the good guys, you think with a scoff. Yeah, sure.

*

Currently on your walk home, your mind is still swirling with memories of last year. You understood the need to commemorate and show respect, but the constant reminders didn’t help to move on. You hated being here. You couldn’t wait to graduate and move as far away as possible. You wanted to forget about Hawkins. You wanted to forget about Eddie Munson. You wanted to forget how close the world had been to ending.

You happen to glance up as you walk towards your house when your steps become hesitant at the sight of someone sitting on your doorstep. It was no jock ready to berate you. It certainly wasn’t Eddie.

It was none other than Nancy Wheeler.

*

Eddie was miserable.

Actually, it was beyond just misery. He couldn’t even think of a word to describe everything he had been through and everything he was actively going through—whether that was because he always failed vocab tests due to lazy disinterest or because such a word just didn’t exist. The whole experience took a lot out of him—quite literal chunks out of his body, not just emotionally.

Besides those who had become closest to him, once everyone was focused on the next suspect no one bothered to check back in with him. No one apologized for literally hunting him down with plans of… god, he didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they caught him.

After being resuscitated, he had to be holed up in some secure room of a nearby hospital while he recovered since Hawkins Memorial Hospital was too risky for him. As the days in the hospital went by painfully and with more and more news on Hawkins turning up on the small TV of his room, he wondered if karma was a real thing. He narrowly escaped death and an arrest for a murder he didn’t commit (really the only thing saving his ass coming from the insistence of his uncle and Chief Hopper when he randomly appeared back in Hawkins). It certainly made a guy think about what he’s done.

In fact, all the isolation gave him far too much time to think. Watching the news; constantly pressing the morphine button even though he knew it wouldn’t give him more; falling into pits of depression where sometimes he wished they never brought him back—those thoughts of karma came up. He would eventually brush them off as hippie garbage, but memories of you were sounding off like an alarm in his head. It wasn’t hippie garbage. The concept held some real truth to it, and he knew he deserved everything that happened after he had been so cruel to you because of some stupid, childish need for distance from any sort of vulnerability.

After realizing that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was stuck in Hell on earth with aching wounds he wished would heal faster and memories of a girl he should’ve treated better. He regretted how things ended, and wondered what it would be like right now if he hadn’t ended things with such brutal carelessness. You’d probably be right by his side and making it easier to get through. And when he thought about how much better it would be to heal with you here, something ached deep inside him that even morphine couldn’t touch. He missed something he never let himself have, and certainly didn’t deserve by this point. He knew what kinds of things mattered now, and it didn’t even make a difference because as much as it changed things for him that didn’t mean it changed things for you.

Then one night, it dawned on him that you might not even be alive.

He was sweating from all the pain and the drugs and the heat of mid September of ‘86, when it occurred to him that you could be gone. Having already established a constant pattern of thoughts that revolved around you, it wasn’t surprising that he was up at 2 AM with you on his mind but that intrusion to his pleasant memories or self-loathing put him into a panic. You could be dead quickly turned into you are dead, and he couldn’t handle it. How could he deserve to live, but you didn’t? Maybe because you deserved mercy and he didn’t. Either way, he ignored his crying nerves and scrambled for the walky talky on his bedside table.

He tried just about every channel he was allowed to use, but no one was picking up. Maybe they were sleeping, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the group suffering from insomnia after everything that happened. Still, he wasn’t granted the peace of a response and he had to lay there just hoping for a chance to make things better—and worry that he wouldn’t get to.

*

The group that helped him through that horrific Spring break came to visit him when they were able to. It was typically at random, with the occasional stop at his request for certain food or begging for a distraction before he went insane. Lucas was the first one to answer when he tried the radio again early that morning, and he soothed Eddie’s anxiety with the promise of stopping by.

With Max in the hospital and still no signs of coming back, Lucas had his own need for a distraction. He trudged into the dull room Eddie was stuck in, and settled into the chair kept by the bed.

“Is she alive?”

Lucas blinked, wondering if maybe he missed something in his own fog of exhaustion and despair. Really it was because Eddie blurted out in mid-thought without the courtesy of some background, but he still grew frustrated with him. His face bunched up as he briefly bared his teeth in that split second of muted rage. One of his hands made a fist before he unfurled it to rub at his face and shake his head.

“Y/n. Y/n, Sinclair—jesus christ—is she alive?”

Lucas parted his lips and then closed them again, tired eyes staring over at the metalhead as he tried to get his mind to cooperate. Eddie nearly cracked over the hesitation, taking it as a sign that Lucas was struggling to tell him that you were gone rather than trying to remember who you were and if he had seen you around.

“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” he finally murmured and a heavy sigh exhaled from Eddie’s lungs. “I’ve seen her around school. She’s alive.”

“Jesus chr—she’s okay?” Eddie was rubbing his palms over his face again, bangs partially sticking up when he pulled his hands away to gesture with energy he didn’t have to spend.

“Yeah, man, she’s okay. I think—I-I don’t really talk to her, but she isn’t injured.”

Eddie sat with that for a moment, relieved that you were alive and at least fine physically, but his eyes were still sad. Lucas joined him in this bubble of misery, the silence tugging him back to thoughts of Max until Eddie finally popped the bubble again.

“Did… did she join everyone? Y’know in the Great Hunt for the Freak?” he let out a partial laugh, but it was hollow.

“No, she didn’t buy it.” Lucas shrugged and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.

His eye stung for a moment, watered and then returned to normal. After that fight in the old Creel house, his eye was never truly the same. It healed enough that it wasn’t swollen and bruised, but it was still sensitive and it watered more often. Whenever it did, it made him think of that night and he felt as if he was being punched all over again. It made him think of Max. It made him think of Jason.

Although with the topic on you, remembering Jason made him laugh a little—a soft, amused chuckle breaking through his sorrow.

“Jason actually went to her house. I… I was still with him at that point,” Lucas flicked his gaze up at Eddie with guilt before looking back down. “He wanted to interrogate her about you. See if you were hiding with her or if she hated you enough to join him.”

Eddie swallowed, brows frowning as he waited for him to continue.

“She uh… she threatened him with a baseball bat.” Lucas laughed a bit more wholeheartedly this time.

Eddie’s head sunk back a bit in surprise, big doe eyes even wider and brows raised in disbelief. He said your first name to clarify and even though Lucas nodded, he said your full name with that same questioning tone.

“She threatened Jason Carver with a baseball bat?”

You were meek if nothing else, and as Eddie knew you—you were easy to break. Easy to bend and mold so he never considered the possibility that you were strong. That you could take care of yourself, and you weren’t as weak as you looked. But maybe it was fitting. You appeared delicate and fragile, but were tougher than you looked. Whereas he had that rough n tough, bad boy act just for it to fall apart when he found himself scrambling away from danger. He just hoped he wasn’t the reason you were surprisingly resilient—that maybe it was always there and he just never noticed.

“Yeah. He wouldn’t back off and she said she’d do it if he didn’t leave,” Lucas snickered a bit before his mood was sobered by the other side of this memory. “She uh… she was scared. He was scaring her, and I don’t blame her. He was scaring all of us…”

He was focused on his hands now, toying with them anxiously and he could hear the sigh of Eddie’s puffy hospital pillow as he settled back against it. He was letting it all sink in, and for a moment he wished he was the one to kill Carver instead of the cracking earth. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you, and you didn’t deserve Jason’s intimidation tactics just because you had been caught up with the likes of him.

He hated that you had been scared, he hated that it was his fault, and he hated how much worse he felt now that he knew that you stood up for him even after everything he put you through. Maybe not so much stood up for him, but you didn’t let yourself get dragged into the accusations and mob mentality even if you had every reason to.

This hurt worse somehow, and he was bound to a new bout of pain and suffering.

*

“I just miss her, I guess…” Eddie admitted to his uncle once the topic turned to you. He felt the urge to repent and voice how badly he wished you were with him right now, and his uncle was the only one he felt safe admitting all of this to.

“The girl that you were spending time with at home?” His uncle’s gruff voice wondered, and Eddie was taken aback by the question.

All he said was there was a girl he had a thing with, which he messed up royally, and he wished he could have another chance. Nothing else, so he looked like a fish out of water now and his uncle chuckled at his reaction.

“I may not be the smartest man around, but I’m not stupid,” he grumbled out, sat in the same chair Lucas had been. “I was aware of your uh… activities.”

Wayne scratched at his stubble, embarrassed to acknowledge just exactly what his adult nephew had been up to—just as mortified as Eddie was over having to discuss sex with his uncle.

“I found her panty things stuck to the inside of the dryer,” Wayne explained further. “And I ran into her one morning when I had just come home from the plant.”

You had been leaving Eddie’s room to use the bathroom early in the morning, not realizing he would be home from a shift. You hoped that with how tired he looked that he would think it was all a weird dream or maybe that he was seeing things. After all, you were back in that room in a flash. Fast enough to be a fleeting ghost, but he saw you and he clearly remembered you. Eddie was grumbling something to himself now about you being careless enough to get him caught, but Wayne was quick to shut this down. He wasn’t known to raise his voice, and he still really didn’t, but his tone was harsher now.

“No—don’t you go blaming that girl cause you insisted on keeping her a secret. Christ, boy—you know, I thought I taught you better.”

Of all the things he could say, this was the worst. I thought I taught you better. Eddie wished he could shrink down to nothing, and he looked down at his hands in shame.

“You should’ve treated her better. That’s on you.”

“Yeah…” Eddie laughed out bitterly “You have no idea…”

Eddie sighed now, hiding his face behind his palms.

“I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t know how I thought that kind of shit was important,” He rips his hands away to jerk them outwards in an exasperated gesture and looks over at this uncle. “It was fun a-and then it was too serious and I just— I— and now I don’t know why I was thinking like that.”

“Well,” his uncle started after a pause to think it over. “you may have been a grown man in the eyes of the law, but that doesn’t mean you were thinking like one. You’re still young. I…I’d like to think you would’ve learned these kinds of thing at a regular pace as you grew up, but—shit—between your parents and especially after all this-”

Wayne gestured out into the air with little energy to his casual motion.

“You’re forced into adulthood. That’s what shit like this does…”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Eddie finally admits in a rush after a moment of considering his uncles words. He was sure they had some truth to them, but he thought maybe his uncle was giving him too much credit. “I really cared for her— I still really care for her. I was just… I was being-“

“Stupid? Childish?”

“Yeah, yeah okay- geez,” Eddie sighs and looks down at his hands to pick at his nails. “Yeah… all of that…”

“Well… maybe if she really means that much to ya, then be honest. Try again. Really put some elbow grease into it, and maybe—if you’re lucky—she’ll forgive you.”

Eddie scoffs out a miserable laugh and gestures around him in a way that’s far more animated than when his uncle did it.

“Yeah. Cause I’m clearly so lucky.”

*

What made all of this worse was the fact that he couldn’t even reach out for months.

Being hidden away didn’t only mean a different hospital picked out by Hopper. It also meant no calls, no letters—nothing. He couldn’t risk being found by anyone who was still convinced he was guilty. Eddie insisted it calmed down enough to come back and he had healed enough for it, but Hopper was hesitant and ultimately unyielding.

“It’s bullshit. You guys even said no one mentions me anymore, and it’s not like I’m a suspect.” Eddie ranted to Nancy during her visit, Steve somewhere else in the hospital looking for food.

“I know, but you’ll still stand out right now,” she reasoned. “If you come back, it could stir something up again.”

“What, so I never go back? I have to uproot my whole shitty life because of rumors?”

“Eddie-“ she sighed.

“No, it’s shit. It’s all shit. If I have to stay one more second in this shitty fucking room, I’m gonna start climbing the walls,” he ranted with wild eyes. “I need to leave. I need to live my crappy life. I… I need to see y/n again.”

At that, Nancy perked up. It wasn’t out of excitement, but rather something blowing through her sideways at your name. Familiarity burned at her before it all went up in flames, and she was overwhelmed with memories and guilt.

“Oh my god… y/n…” She murmured to herself with an upsetting sense of nostalgia.

She completely forgot about you in the mess of everything. At first she had been trying to keep you from learning anything that could put you in danger—doing her best to keep it between her and Jonathan. She had already lost Barb because of her own selfish carelessness, she couldn’t let something happen to you too. Then it was all a whirlwind from there and you were suddenly caught up in a past that she forgot existed. A past where a shoebox was just a shoebox.

Her eyes grow sad, her mind filling with thoughts of how she could’ve ever possibly left you in the dust. Sure, you were a newfound friend in high school—whereas her and Barb had been friends for years by that point—but that was no excuse for letting leaving you out of the loop turn into completely leaving you behind.

She’s so caught up in her own regrets that she forgets about Eddie until he’s speaking up again and waving his hand in front of her face.

“Uhh, Wheeler? Hello?”

“Oh- uh… yeah, yes.” She shakes her head, her curly hair shuffling around with the motion, her brow frowning and her lips taut. “Yes. Yes, I know her. You know her?”

“Well uh…” he lets out a nervous laugh, suddenly fearful of the rage of an old friend. “We sorta… we had a thing going…”

He risked a glance over at her, and her expression was anything but sparing. She clearly wasn’t happy with how guilty he sounded, but who was she? She abandoned you for all intents and purposes, even if she didn’t mean to. And if she had been blind enough to never notice what went on between you and Eddie, she had no right to chastise him for it even if she did have the familiar urge to get up on her high horse.

“But uh… I kinda screwed everything up,” he muttered and was back to picking at his fingers while he stared down at them. “Like you wouldn’t believe. And I just… shit, I’m so sick of this place and waiting around.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, but you can’t go back to Hawkins yet.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” he snaps bitterly before cooling down again. “I just… I need to talk to her or something. If she could be brought here, or if I could meet her somewhere else. I need to fix things.”

After constant complaining and threats of breaking out of the hospital, Nancy eventually found a compromise to get him to shut up.

Steve came back around the time he had started rattling on again about how he was going to go crazy. Utterly confused as always, he was off to the side and watched as Nance did her best to calm Eddie down again. He occasionally broke through all the noise with his questions, only to get a searing glare from Nancy. At some point, he finally caught on (kinda) and only made things worse.

“Munson has a crush,” he finally said with a snap of his fingers and points at them. “That’s cute. Embarrassing, but cute.”

“I don’t have a crush, you idi-”

“Will you please stop?” Nancy hissed over at him, expression begging for him to keep out of it.

“Why am I even here?” Steve wondered out loud with a sigh and kept eating his suspicious hospital jello.

“Cause I can’t leave this fucking place!” Eddie reiterated, making Nancy groan over Steve agitating the problem that she was just barely starting to settle.

“I’ll- I’ll give her a letter!” she finally offered, cutting Eddie off mid-complaint. Her arms shot up with the raise of her voice, laughing with exasperation. “Just write down what you want to say, and I’ll give it to her!”

*

“What are you doing here?”

It came out harsher than you intended and even you wanted to flinch at your own words, but maybe it was justified. She completed cast you aside you when you lost a friend. You both lost a friend, and it seemed to make her hate you. Or at least that’s how it felt. Why else would she have avoided you? Why else would she have stopped talking to you?

“I guess I deserve that.” Nancy replied with a soft huff of a laugh, and a sheepish smile.

More news seemed to be coming up little by little about Barb. Once upon a time you thought it all came to a close when it was revealed that she died from a chemical leak, but now there was talk of things that a chemical leak would wilt in comparison to. Things that went on in your own home town that you can’t even imagine going unseen by so many. Or maybe they all saw, but curled up into their comfortable ignorance to avoid it. You couldn’t judge them—you did too. You believed every story you got, even if—in hindsight—they were obvious cover ups every time someone started to demand for better explanations.

You eye her cautiously, hoping your eyes don’t show the sadness that came with such hesitancy around someone you used to know so well.

“I uhm…” Nancy shook her head the way she always did when she needed to clear her thoughts, brows furrowed and nose briefly scrunched up as she glanced at the ground. “I had to bring this to you…”

She was looking at you again, gauging your reaction as she extended her slim arm to offer you an envelope. You’re toying with it in your hands, wondering why there was no name on the back and if you should open it now.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

You look up at her now, but remain silent. What was there to say?

“I should’ve never left you behind like that... Trust me, I never meant to. I thought I was protecting you and I was, but…” Nancy’s pouty lips scrunch together for a moment. “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t…” you concur, but your heart aches from the look on her face.

Sure, she hurt you but maybe you should’ve been grateful. Even if you wished she would’ve been honest with you, you knew how stubborn Nancy could be when it came to protecting those close to her. Instead of shutting her out, you extend an olive branch.

“Barb would be rolling her eyes at us right now, huh?”

Nancy stutters over her own disbelieving laugh as she glances at you through her lashes.

“Yeah, she would be.” Her nose scrunches again, lips bunched up a second time as her gaze grows sentimental. “She’d be telling us to stop being so stupid.”

“‘You both get perfect grades, why don’t you use your brains outside of school?’” You quote before laughing and she joins in.

“Guess we can’t say she wasn’t honest. She was always pretty straightforward with her thoughts.”

“One of us had to be.”

Nancy nods, and then let’s out a sigh as she rubs her arm and starts to move out of your way.

“Well, I should probably let you get to that-“

“Yeah, this letter that isn’t suspicious at all.” You joke, holding up the blank envelope and she laughs lightly before ducking her head down.

Figuring you were parting ways now, you turn around and open your front door, just to turn around in your doorway when you heard her suddenly chirp out your name. She hesitates again, but then finds her words.

“I… now that things seem to be going back to normal… I… I’d love to try being friends again. Maybe have a girls night.”

A smile breaks out onto your face, and you watch her defenses slowly start to melt away and smooth out the stiffness in her body.

“I’d like that.”

*

“What did she say? How’d she react?” Eddie asked over the radio, barely even waiting for a second to pass before continuing. “Wheeler? Hello?”

“Can I have a moment to respond?” Nancy quipped back, the crackling of the station breaking up her voice but not enough that he couldn’t hear her frustration. Not that he cared right now.

“What’d she think?”

“I don’t know, Eddie,” she sighed. “She didn’t open your letter in front of me.”

“Shit…” Eddie mutters, chewing at his thumbnail. He wanted—maybe even needed—the instant gratification that Nancy could’ve given him had she stuck around to watch you open the envelope.

Then again, maybe he was lucky.

“It— It’s whatever. I just hope it makes a difference.”

“What…what did you say to her in the letter?” Nancy asked now before shifting her focus quickly. “What did you even do in the first place?”

“Uhh, well let’s see,” Eddie looked up at the ceiling from where he was sat on the edge of his bed as his leg started to bounce. “I was a dick. Yeah… yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Don’t make me regret doing this for you, Eddie.” Nancy sighed and turned down the volume to her walky talky.

*

“I’m sorry, and I mean it. I’m capable given the right circumstances, remember?” the writing said, then there were a few words that had been crossed out and he followed those scratches of ink with a winky face, concluding with: “Leave that window unlocked, kay? I’ll be back for that necklace so keep it safe.”

Was the world falling apart all over again? Did you actually die and you didn’t even realize it? Everything seemed so unexpected and oddly… nice? Reassuring? Like Nancy showing up and apologizing. Or this letter you had open on top of your bedding.

It was part of a full sheet of paper, likely the bottom third of a page torn off. The handwriting and the comments throughout were enough to immediately make you think of who wrote this—even if he didn’t sign it. But what really confirmed it was the necklace with the red guitar pick hanging on it. You’re infuriated with the involuntary flush reaching your cheeks as memories rush in. All the times he was on top of you, that necklace hanging down and resting on your chest or nudging your chin and lips.

“God, you’re such a good girl for me.” you remember him groaning that one time he watched you sucking on the guitar pick, big eyes staring up at him while he fucked into you.

You had been folded into yourself on his mattress, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from each and every thrust that fed your greed for him but was inevitably making your body ache.

The pick that was now resting in your palm was suddenly just a thin slab of plastic. The more you thought about it, that’s pretty much all it tasted like it, but you remembered the saltiness of his sweat too. What made it so special in the first place was knowing it was his. It was such an integral part of him—it laid close to his heart where you wished to be, and it was cherished by him which you wished for yourself once too. That moment in his small bedroom when you let it slip past your lips, you hadn’t been sure how he’d react, and to be completely honest you were too fucked out to think at all. But he didn’t pull it away from you, he sunk into you with that shuddering praise instead.

The memory of his words was enough to raise your body temperature, but you fought off that familiar instinct to melt just for him. He’s an asshole. A cruel heartbreaker. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He ruined love for you.

Your stomach bends and curls enough to make you nauseous as the butterflies kick in—then why do I still want him so badly? You were so desperate to take every single ounce of attention—good or bad—that he gave you. Hadn’t you learned your lesson? Hadn’t you been practicing your borderline religious hatred for him enough for it to be real?

You’re not sure if it’s anger towards him or yourself for slipping so easily, but your blood is starting to boil. You remind yourself of all those games he used to play with you and the sentiment of him being a heartless, sadistic fuck plays on repeat in your head so that no softer thoughts can break through. Surely he was toying with you. This was a test of some kind, probably because he got bored and wanted to brush you off like some forgotten toy he wanted to use again.

You needed to prove to yourself that you can shoot him down. Stare into those gorgeous doe eyes and tell him to go fuck himself. Look up at him when he’s giving you that beautiful half-smile and moving his hands to hold your hips, and tell him to never talk to you again.

You needed to show him how it felt to be treated the way he treated you. Maybe it was childish, but some twisted part of you felt relieved at the thought of it. He deserved to have his hopes shattered when he thinks he’s getting what he wants, just to be shut out. He deserved to be humiliated. He deserved to be broken down so thoroughly just like you had been. To be broken down into such a fine dust that even when you were sure everything had been swept back together again, there were always going to be those missing bits and pieces that fell through the cracks or blew away.

As you’re toying with the necklace in your hands, you can’t help but think you’re being too immature. What about last year? Everything that happened to him? Maybe he’s been put through enough? Your brow frowns, and you’re internally cursing yourself for being so horribly incapable of making a decision.

Your hand shot up to cover your frustrated expression, a groan leaving your lips. You wanted to let yourself hate him so badly, but you wanted to feel loved by him so much it hurt.

You think it over for the rest of the night, laying in bed with your hands still clutching that necklace. You’re up for hours, only falling asleep when your body forces you into submission around 4 AM—nodding off and snapping back up just to nod off again. Your last thought is that you had to be strong—whatever that meant. You didn’t have to be mean, but you refused to cave and immediately let him have you in whatever way he wants.

He’s won far too many times, and now it’s your turn.

*

“If you get caught then I had nothing to do with this—got that, Munson?” Steve whispered as he glanced over at the metalhead, one arm still outstretched as he held onto the steering wheel.

Eddie was too busy taking in the sight of your house and breathing in the fresh night air. It never occurred to him before just how much he loved the smell of chill in the wind, like it might snow soon. Ever since last year he was realizing a lot of things he never knew he loved, and he felt both relieved and crushed by the knowledge. He was sure he knew himself before everything happened. He liked fantasy games, music, and indulging in that metal rockstar lifestyle even if it was just another fantasy he was playing into. He liked having all eyes on him as he made a scene in the lunchroom. He liked being the local anarchistic leader of fellow freaks, and ignoring any other responsibilities. He liked girls he could use like he was some big shot backstage after a show.

He thought everything was about prepping himself for that kind of life. He was comfortable being the asshole who never pulled his weight anymore than he had to if he wasn’t interested enough. He was comfortable being a runner because then he could continue living the way he was used to without anything to come in and hold him back, until his whole life fell apart. Then he was afraid for his life. Then he was afraid for that kid’s life—all of their lives, actually, not just Dustin’s. Then he was suddenly the person charging into danger to give someone else a chance.

And now he was alone. He still had his new group, but they could continue their lives while he was kept hidden away and all he had to do was think about everything he never realized he would miss. Something as simple as recognizing a familiar comfort in the smell of a soft breeze felt heart wrenching. Or laying in a hospital bed wishing he still had that one girl to love him made him horribly aware of how empty he’s always been.

“Hello?” Steve urged with an impatient tone.

Eddie glanced over at him and despite his frustration at the lack of response, Steve felt taken aback by the sight of him. Something about finally seeing him back out of the hospital made him realize just how miserable Eddie really was. Maybe it was because sadness made sense in a hospital, or maybe it was the way the moonlight hit his features the right way and he could see the deeper shadows of his face and his sullen eyes.

“Just… be quick alright? And I was never here.”

“Yeah, Hopper’ll have your head.” Eddie snickered quietly.

“I’m less concerned about Hopper…” Steve muttered as thoughts of a certain young woman being upset with him flashed through his head.

“Women, am I right?” Eddie asked playfully in a mocking manner to anyone who ever seriously shared that sentiment, leaning his body towards Steve before laughing as the brunet nudged him back.

“Will you just go?” Steve laughed it off, shaking his head and watched him finally clamber out of the car.

Eddie snuck to the side of the house where he could spot your window. It had been a solid couple of weeks since Nancy brought his letter to you, and he just wished you would let him back in. He huffed before forcing himself up to make his way towards the window, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his lips in concentration. He was understandably weaker since the last time he was doing this on a weekly basis, but he pushed through and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration when it wouldn’t open. You kept it locked.

*

Your whole body tensed at the sound of someone rapping on your window, hand clutching your blanket. It had been long enough that you thought he was never going to come and retrieve his necklace, and you were irritated with your own disappointment. Now you were struggling with the sudden surge of excitement lighting up your nerves, which was making a sour combination with all that built up anger towards him.

When you finally forced yourself to look over your shoulder, you weren’t expecting how badly you wanted to cry. You wanted to let him in and just kiss him. Kiss him until you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. Hold him to you and refuse to let him leave. He wasn’t allowed to make a visit like this and leave you again—physically or emotionally. You couldn’t handle it, and you were surprised at how all these feelings presented themselves.

“What is your problem?” Is the first thing to leave your lips when he’s climbing into your room, and you might’ve been more surprised by your words than he was.

“W… what?” he laughs off your question, shocked by you starting the interaction this way; although realistically he shouldn’t have been.

“Why are you here?”

“Well I…” he rubbed his arm once he was back to his full height, scratching a bit at his elbow. “I wanted to apologize-”

“Why does it matter to you now?” you interrupt, your anger surprisingly not faltering even when his big eyes flit up to look at you sadly like a dejected puppy. You felt so broken when you finally saw him again, you didn’t know where this was coming from. Why—when you wanted him back so badly—you were being so… mean.

“What? Did you develop a conscience all of a sudden? Get hunted for months and suddenly have an opportunity to stop and think ‘hm it really sucks to be treated like garbage, gee I wonder if this is how I made her feel’”?”

Eddie’s expression hardens for a moment, and it’s more familiar to you than any bit of softness he was showing you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t exactly treated all that great in school either. I can assure you, I already knew what it’s like to be treated like shit.”

“Oh so that excuses it then.”

“I-” Eddie huffs, letting out an incredulous laugh before trying again. “That’s not what I said. Shit— I just… I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to make any excuses. I should’ve been better to you.”

You stay silent for a moment, arms crossed as you watch how honest he looks when he’s all soft like this—with those puppy eyes hopeful and glossy.

“Why did you do it? If you really cared all this time why were you so hell bent on hurting me so thoroughly?”

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he mutters as he looks at the floor, glancing up when you scoff out a disbelieving laugh of your own. For once this kind of attitude doesn’t fuel his fire, but tamps it down. He felt awful, and what made it worse is he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe it.

“I… I thought you were cute before. Just in passing, y’know, cause you were still an underclassmen back then, but…” he glances down at his shoes. “I overheard you with your friends talking about me, and when the possibility of me liking you came up you jus’ laughed about it. Like taking an interest in me was that bad.”

His brow furrows at the memory, and just when you’re about to respond he continues to explain himself the best he can.

“I just… I don’t know, alright? It was stupid but it made me feel like shit. Like as if you would ever give me the time of day. And then it was like you were obsessed with me, and I just…”

“Wanted to make me hurt?” you question and he glances up at you briefly before nodding.

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s hopeful this is you letting everything sink in and understand where he was coming from. That you’d see his sincerity, and take him back because fuck he couldn’t stand being alone again.

“You took my heart and ripped it into shreds because of that?” you finally ask, tone sharp enough to make him cringe. “Because of something I said as a nervous sophomore who couldn’t fathom being liked? Or being seen as interesting? That’s what this is all from?”

“Well- I- but you liked the teasing-” Eddie attempted, and immediately regretted when he saw the fire in your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it!”

“I… you… you do it too! Sometimes we overreact! It happens!” Eddie finally snapped back, but tried to keep his frustration within a whisper the same way you were. “Sometimes you overhear a conversation and you make the wrong conclusion! Sometimes you don’t get kissed and you get upset! Sometimes you try to sell a girl drugs and end up on the wrong fucking side of hell opening up! Shit happens in fucked up ways! Things get messed up! I’m trying to fix how I messed up!”

He’s visibly distraught, and even though he knew this wouldn’t be easy, deep down he wished you’d melt into him like always.

“You don’t get to pull that with me, Eddie. I’m sorry about what happened last year. I really, truly am because you don’t deserve it—no matter how much I hate your fucking guts. But you don’t get to use it to distract me with it.”

“I’m not—fuck— I’m not trying to distract you with it! I’m just saying things get mixed up because of assumptions n shit like that. And I’m… I’m sorry I…” he trails off, letting out panting breaths. “You… do you really hate me?”

You hesitate, that broken look on his face almost getting to you, but you’re so sure you know better. You know how he can manipulate things.

“Yeah, Eddie. I hate you.”

He’s surprisingly quiet as he looks at you, an unfamiliar glittering to his eyes.

“And by the way, there’s a huge difference between you spending years hell bent on my misery and leaving me beyond devastated; and me giving you the silent treatment after you fucked me in the middle of the night and didn’t stick around or kiss me or make me actually feel cared for in any way.”

Eddie murmured your name, taking a step forward in a quiet plead for forgiveness. Mercy. Anything but this.

“No. I’m talking right now. Not you. So shut up and listen for once,” you choked out as tears filled your eyes, which felt oddly dissonant to your anger.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And I don’t want you back in my life,” You listed off with an attitude that surprised him, even if he deserved it. “I’m sorry that Hawkins has ruined your life, but that doesn’t mean you get me back just cause all of this has given you a fucking backbone and a conscience.”

Eddie’s lips part and then close again, feeling like a fish out of water. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do with that aching in parts of his body he didn’t even know could ache.

“Doll, please… I really…” he breathes in deep enough that it turns shaky and burns deep in his chest. “I need a chance. I need a chance to show you I mean it. That I did love you back. That I still love you. That I can make it all up to you.”

You dig your nails into your crossed arms, looking away. You know if you keep looking into those big brown eyes that look so desperate right now that you just might cave.

“Well… I don’t love you anymore. So don’t call me doll, and just leave me alone.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face, reaching back to temporarily grip his hair to use up some of that rage on himself before he lets go again.

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do to get even one chance? Just one, that’s all I’m asking. It’s all I need cause I swear I won’t hurt you ever again,” Eddie pleads and he’s shocked by his own words, but he doesn’t regret them for even a second. “I-I’ll check in more on how you’re feeling. I’ll ask if there’s anything I can do better. I’ll meet your fucking parents. I’ll be gross and romantic and honest. Please. Just give me one last chance, and I won’t take it lightly. Just don’t lie to me if you still love me. Trust me, I know what’s it’s like to be scared shitless about letting someone in so you’d rather just lie. It’s not worth it.”

He notices that last remark sparks up your frustration and he clarifies speedily.

“And I know that me being like that is the reason you’re hesitant to let me in now. I know that’s my fault, I just… shit, I need another chance.”

The fact that he was so insistent and willing to grovel gave you some comfort, but you’ve learned to not get your hopes up. You stick to your guns, but not as confidently as before. And Eddie sees that.

“Please just leave…” you murmur, even if it’s burning away at you to insist that he go.

He groans, rubbing at his face again but goes to straddle your windowsill anyway.

“I really do care about you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You started chewing at the skin around your thumbnail—a nasty stress-related habit you picked up from someone. You didn’t respond, just waited for him to actually go. You were too busy fighting your urge to crumble at his words that actually felt so sincere.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You finally offer in a voice so soft you might as well have never spoken up, but it’s enough to ease some of that aching he felt.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too… I was worried you wouldn’t be. Bugged the shit out of Sinclair so he’d let me know.” he admitted with a soft laugh.

“You asked about me…?”

“Yeah… you’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

You bite your lip, swallowing when you realized just how tight your throat felt. You’re unsure of how to respond without giving into him, until you catch a glimpse of his necklace on your bedside table.

“Oh uhm… you came here to get this back.” you murmur, padding over to the nightstand to grab it and bring it over to him. Eddie stares at the pick in your palm before looking at you with sad amusement.

“The necklace wasn’t really what I was interested in coming back for…” he admits with a soft chuckle, eyeing you as his smile falters. “Keep it.”

“But it’s your-”

“Keep it. Please.”

The moment is bittersweet, and you’re thinking about what it would be like if you really gave him a chance to prove he’s being honest with you tonight, but you’re too fearful to take that chance. You do hold onto the necklace though.

“Good night, Eddie.”

*

taglist: @mynameismothra @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @elvendria @psychospore @daisyridleyyyy @sidthedollface2 @kelsiegrin @swiss-cheeze @darknesseddiem @magnificantmermaid @hazydespair @bonehead-playz @stephanie-nicks76 @madaboutjoe @homiesexual-or-homosexual @neobanguniverse @prestinalove @galaxyfxcs @canyonmooncreations @hereforshmut @ediewentmissing @sadest-bookshelf @harlowsgirl @damon-loves-pie @stardustmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @bitchyseawitch @littlered0000

[gloomzi]

A Little Death

PAIRING sam riordan/emma meyer/gn!reader

WORD COUNT 743

SUMMARY (Y/N) comes back from class to find their partners, Emma and Sam, have started having fun without them.

WARNINGS sfw despite what the summary might sound like, reader is somewhat more dominant in the relationship, they/them pronouns for reader

NOTES this is my first fic on this blog + my first x reader in many many years, pls go easy on me 😭😭 i don't think this is my best work by any means but i wanted to write something gen v so here it is! title is from a the neighbourhood song btw :p that being said, hope yall enjoy!

Sam's hands rested gently on Emma's waist, fingers rubbing small circles over her hip bones as she kissed down his neck gently. Though he was mostly distracted by the sensation of her lips ghosting over his adam’s apple, he could just faintly hear the sound of (Y/N) entering the room, his eyes opening slowly to meet their gaze, a smile tugging at his lips as he watched them stand stock-still, bag slung over their shoulder. Emma had stopped briefly too, glancing over her shoulder to smirk at their partner before picking up where she left off, sucking a bruise right under Sam's jaw.

"Why do you guys always start having fun without me?" (Y/N) whined, walking over and forcing their way between them. Emma laughed, shoving their shoulder gently before allowing herself to be pushed out of the way, watching fondly as they pushed and pulled at Sam until he was sat in their lap. Though Sam was much taller than (Y/N), they were always eager to dote on him, this position becoming common between the two. From an outsider's perspective it probably looked silly, but Emma found it sweet and loved seeing the dynamic her partners had fallen into.

Sam huffed, crossing his arms, "We always start without you because you're always late,” He pouted.

Emma giggled, “Like seriously, do you just chat with everyone on your way back from class, or…?” (Y/N) rolled their eyes, ignoring Emma’s comment to squeeze Sam’s face lightly.

“Whiners, the both of you.” They muttered, kicking at Emma’s shin lightly.

Groaning, Emma moved closer to the pair, her legs propped up on either side of Sam’s, chest pressed into his back. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but she wanted to be close, so she’d deal with it for the moment. Wrapping her arms around Sam’s waist, she placed her head between his shoulders before loosening her grip so (Y/N) could maneuver him as they pleased. Using the hands that were already on his face, (Y/N) pulled him into a soft kiss, gentle and slow, his eyes fluttering shut as a hum of content slipped from his lips.

(Y/N) smiled slightly into the kiss, enjoying the feeling of the other boy's fingers sliding up the sides of their neck and settling behind their head. Sam nipped at their lower lip, smirking when he felt their fingers flex against his cheeks before trying to pull him in deeper. Emma watched them continue to kiss for a few more seconds before latching her own lips onto Sam's shoulder, biting lightly. The boy's breath hitched as he pulled away from (Y/N), a strand of spit following him back as he gripped Emma's thigh tightly in his left hand, his nails digging into her skin. His other hand held a handful of (Y/N)’s shirt, who watched the pair with half lidded eyes, their hands falling to Sam’s sides as Emma moved up his neck slowly, small bruise's starting to form a trail.

(Y/N) huffed a laugh, squeezing the boy’s waist lightly before smacking Emma’s knee, "First you start without me and now Sam gets all your attention," They pouted, though the lilt in their voice made it clear they didn’t actually mind.

Emma snickered, shaking her head, “Ohhh, poor baby! C’mere, I’ll give you all the attention you want,” She said, pulling away from Sam to lay beside the pair. After a moment of shuffling (Y/N) had been pulled into Emma’s lap, Sam’s face pressed into Emma’s collarbone, a barely noticeable smile on his face as he stared up at them. (Y/N)’s face had gone red, arms crossed tightly over their chest, still unused to the switch in position. Sure, they could appreciate being the one on the receiving end of the doting from time to time, but it wasn’t common, especially from Emma. Still, Emma cooed at their awkwardness, finding it cute as always, uncrossing their arms quickly and linking their hands together.

“Better?” Emma teased, swinging their hands with a grin. Sam chuckled besides them, muttering something about them being cute into Emma’s neck. 

“Just kiss me already!” (Y/N) whined, pulling their hands loose to slip into Emma’s hair, tugging lightly.

Sam giggled, rolling his head out of the way slightly, “God, you two are ridiculous.” He smiled, reaching behind (Y/N)’s head to push them together, “Just get it over with.”

[sleepingdeath-light]

dark choco cookie smut hcs + soft dominant male s/o ; 18+

requested by ; anonymous (08/07/23)

fandom(s) ; cookie run

fandom masterlist(s) ; hub | specific

character(s) ; dark choco cookie

outline ; “Hey! Was wondering if I could request a Dark Choco x Dom Male Reader smut with a lot of praising in it (like a lot)? I’m 22 btw!”

warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, submissive leaning!dark choco cookie, praise kink, anal sex, handjob (dark choco cookie receiving)

note ; i definitely struggle to see dark choco cookie ever taking on a submissive role in the bedroom, but I tried my best to fill the given prompt — hope you enjoy it! ^^

minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

though he’d dismiss the idea if anyone else brought it up, dark choco cookie has a pretty extreme praise kink — especially when he’s taking on a submissive role in the bedroom — so having a partner like yourself who is willing to take the reigns and make sure that he knows just how loved and handsome and worthy he is as a person and as a lover is so so important to him

call him ‘beautiful’ and ‘handsome’ as you kiss your way down from the scar over his eye to his lips, then to his throat, and then even further beyond that — and feel the way his breath and heart stutter in his chest to know just how much you’re affecting him despite how stoic his expression may be

bite and mark your way along the insides of his muscular thighs, lips and fingertips just barely missing his neglected erection and praise him for being so ‘good’ and ‘well behaved’ for you and letting you do what you want with him — you’ll feel his hips flinch beneath your touch as he tries his best to continue doing as he’s told by forcing his body to stay still (no matter how much he wants to thrust into your hand or mouth)

wrap your hand around his dick and slowly stroke the length — keeping your pace fast enough to make him feel good but not quite enough to actually get him off — as you talk about how ‘pretty’ and ‘thick’ and ‘perfect’ he is (and watch as he turns his head to one side and bites his lower lip to stop himself from giving too much of a response before he’s ready)

coo over him and encourage him with gentle words and gentle touches to look at you, to accept your affection, and when he finally turns to meet your gaze with his one good eye be sure to reward him as only you can — make sure he finishes with your name on his lips and an understanding that he’s loved, adored, and that you’ll take care of him for as long as he’ll allow you to

when it comes to penetration, as a submissive dark choco cookie still prefers to be the one fucking you (acting more as a service top than anything else) — and to him there’s nothing quite like being buried deep inside of you as you jerk yourself off with one hand and run the other hand gently through his hair, listening to you call him your ‘good boy’, ‘handsome’, and ‘perfect’ and tell him how good of a job he’s doing (‘just like that’, ‘right there’, ‘keep on going’, etc.)

if you tell him that you love him in a way that’s half moaned and half whispered whilst tugging him into a kiss by his hair then he may just finish on the spot with a low groan that shakes you to the core

[bellofthemeadow]

The Road Ahead - ch 2 | Frankie Morales x female reader

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

For most of your married life, you dedicated yourself to waiting for Frankie. After each deployment, you patiently awaited his return, longing for the moment when he would be by your side again. During those nights when nightmares consumed his thoughts, you yearned for him to open up to you, hoping that he would find solace in sharing his pain. And as his addiction spiraled out of control, you held onto the hope that he would recognize his problem and seek help. However, despite your countless protests and pleas, you now find yourself waiting for him once more as he ventures off to Colombia, engaged in God knows what.

But this time is different. Determined, you make a solemn promise to yourself: You will never wait for Frankie again.

Rating: M for Mature (18 + no minors allowed)

Word Count: 4.8K

Warning: Applicable for the entire fic / PTSD, drug use and addiction, postpartum depression, abusive familial relationships, self-hatred, unhealthy coping mechanism, explicit sexual content, violence, mentions of suicidal thoughts, super angsty

Chapter Summary: Frankie breaks the one promise he swore he never would

Notes: Hello again everyone! As I previously mentioned on the last chapter, this is a repost from my former blog "mywordhaven" . I will be continuing this fic, as well as all of my future work, on this blog! This chapter is where the angst truly begins, hope you all like it as much as I muahahaha

Broken Promises

You’ve never been this tired before. It’s a strange feeling like you are experiencing a sort of out-of-body experience, looking straight at your bone-tired self barely holding on. “My kingdom for a full night of sleep,” you think, before scanning the room. A rumpled bed, a mix of dirty and clean laundry scattered over the floor, and a half-eaten pack of Oreo cookies on the nightstand “Not much of a kingdom” you sardonically judge. As the minutes tick by, exhaustion takes further hold of you and your eyes begin to shut. You start to nod off, but just as your chin touches the top of your collarbone a small fist slams onto your left cheek, and a loud cry pierces the silence of your bedroom.

"Shhh, Ella, shhh, sweetheart, please be good for Mommy," you softly plead. Weary from the ongoing battle to lull your baby girl back to sleep, you slowly rise from the rocking chair nestled in the quiet corner of your dimly lit bedroom. It's been a relentless night since the clock struck 1:30 a.m., and Estrella seems to have taken it upon herself to ensure you stay awake for as long as possible.

You had hoped that the rhythmic motion of the chair, the gentle sway, and comforting whispers, would coax her back into the land of dreams. Yet the soft lullabies and soothing strokes proved insufficient in settling your little girl. The minutes ticked by, and the hand of the clock slowly etches its way into the night.

You slowly stroll around the room, swaying back and forth while cradling the warm bundle in your arms. As you gaze down at the tiny face nestled against your chest, you tiredly ponder, "Perhaps I should start calling you peanut, don't you think, Ella?" Your fingertips delicately trace the contours of her tiny, discontented face. The sight of her scrunched-up, red face reminds you of those spicy peanuts that Frankie enjoys munching on.

Frankie. It has been an agonizing seven days since you last heard from your husband. When he informed you about his departure on one of Santiago's reckless ideas (damn it all Santi), you pleaded with him not to go. You had tried everything, even resorting to playing dirty by reminding him of his promise to never leave again! And how it would surely negatively impact Ella considering her formative age. You emphasized how important it was for Ella to have her papa with her. How much you needed your husband. You had kept going until the morning, and your voice had faded to a hoarse whisper, but Frankie did not budge.

Instead, Frankie had held you close. Listening to you argue and rage while whispering reassuring words about how everything would be just fine. And as the argument heated up, he switched up his strategy. Instead, sternly stretching how thin money was right now. Like an artist, using his words as brushstrokes, he painted a clear picture of the challenges you were both facing, reminding you of the growing financial strain. Ella, remaining in the background of the conversation, both acutely aware of your responsibility as new parents. He’d coaxed, cajoled, and did his best to persuade you that his leaving was the right course of action. He stressed that, although Pope needed him for this mission, the money he would make would provide the opportunity for you to finally take time away from work to be with Ella. When he saw you start to relent at his words, he doubled down and further pressed how, upon his return, there would be enough funds for him to both appeal his drug sanction and for you to stay home with the baby.

Frankie knew exactly what he was doing. With the precision of a former military man well-versed in analyzing and exploiting the vulnerabilities of his enemies, he exerted pressure in the very areas he knew would make you yield. Nobody understood you better than Frankie, after all. He knew that the prospect of staying home with Ella would be sufficiently alluring. You had returned to work a mere two weeks after giving birth and with Frankie grounded from flying, you hadn’t been able to take any additional time off. At the time, you had bitterly thought that if Frankie had opened to you instead of falling heads first into a puddle of cocaine, he would have never been suspended in the first place. You could have stayed home with Ella, and you wouldn't be so exhausted. You wouldn’t be so sad all the time.

Estrella's piercing cries escalate, reverberating in the air, and echoing through the room. With every decibel, her frustration intensifies, mirroring your own mounting agitation. You struggle to steady your breath, attempting to reclaim a sense of calm amidst her loud wails.

"Please, please, Ella," you implore, your voice quivering with weariness and desperation. "Mommy needs to sleep tonight. Mommy has a long day at work tomorrow."

Estrella's cries momentarily ebb, her searching gaze locking onto your face, her innocent eyes reflecting what you think is a flicker of comprehension. But before a heartbeat passes, her tiny face contorts once more, the weight of her frustration crashing upon your ears like a tidal wave, each cry more piercing than the last. Desperately, you put Ella back in her crib at the foot of your bed and you quickly flee the room, the weight of your emotions propelling you forward. As the door shuts behind you, you let out your own loud sob. You are so tired of always crying.

As you attempt to regain control of your breathing and try to halt the now-intensified flow of tears, a wave of nausea overtakes you. You only just manage to hastily make your way to the nearest bathroom. Sinking to your knees, your grip on your own hair tightens as waves after wave of nausea engulf you. Dry heaves wrack your body, futilely attempting to expel remnants of a dinner that never met your lips the night before. The searing pain of acidic bile creeping up your throat only serves to intensify your desire to blink yourself out of existence, if only for a fleeting moment, escaping the overwhelming cries and suffocating anxiety. As soon as the thought arrives, however, the tears start to swell even further. What kind of mother are you, you silently question, your self-doubt echoing in the quiet corners of your soul. What kind of mother entertains the notion of vanishing from their own child's life? A wretched one, you conclude.

You rise slowly, mustering the strength to rinse your mouth, eager to rid yourself of the repulsive taste of bile. Spitting out a blob of toothpaste into the sink, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and recoil from the sight of that hollow husk staring back at you. “What the fuck," you whisper to yourself as disbelief floods your thoughts. You hadn’t found the time to look yourself over in the last few weeks, too busy with the baby, work, and Frankie’s license appeal. You kind of wish you hadn’t looked yourself over right now. You look like a ghost, an exhausted ghost at that—gaunt and fatigued, your skin stretched thin and devoid of life, bearing an ashen hue. Dark circles encircle your eyes, stained with redness from endless weeping. Your hair hangs greasy and limp, the last time you washed your hair was likely before Frankie left, you speculate.

Your mind drifts back to that night, two years ago when Frankie returned home for good (or was supposed to return for good). The unfolding reality had completely shattered the idyllic story you had woven into your mind that night. Frankie tried; goodness knows he tried his hardest. But even within the comfort of your shared home, he couldn't elude the relentless demons that haunted him at every turn. It pained you to witness his withdrawal, but he insisted, left and right, that he was fine—that it was normal for discharged soldiers to struggle with readjustment. He assured you he wasn't the first, nor would he be the last, and that all he needed was a little time for everything to work itself out. "You worry too much, mi cielo," he would say before leaving the house each morning, following yet another night plagued by nightmares.

The whole facade of “getting better” quickly lost its lustre when, in an uncharacteristic fit of rage, Frankie had aggressively confronted a young man who had set off firecrackers on your street, nearly beating the poor guy. You had seen the anger and fear contort his normally gentle features, and you were certain that if you hadn't intervened, the situation would have turned violent. Afterward, with tears streaming down both your faces, Frankie held you. With his face tucked in your chest, he had apologized and begged for your forgiveness, promising that it would never happen again. And, in a rare moment of vulnerability, Frankie quietly shared how it sometimes felt like a dark presence consumed him from within—he could be walking down the street, only to be transported back to whatever hellhole his mind had conjured especially for him.

He had gone on about how he couldn’t do any of this without you. In the end, you had forgiven him. But not before making him promise this kind of violence would never happen again as you wouldn’t tolerate it. To his credit, Frankie never exhibited any violent behaviour again. Well, at least not in your presence.

After that day, you tried your best to be firmer with him. You had pleaded with him to seek therapy, thinking that the moment he opened to you was an overture. But Frankie mostly shut it down. Always founding excuses to delay by finding new reasons for not making an appointment each and every day. The cycle persisted with you nagging and him delaying until one afternoon when you returned home to find him on the couch, a distant and ashamed look in his eyes. The mere sight of him caused your heart to plummet. It turned out that Frankie had chosen to self-medicate. At that point, you were three months pregnant with Ella, and to this day you wonder if you would not have been better to walk out that sunny afternoon.

You knew Frankie carried immense guilt from that day. You could see in his eyes how much he despised himself for what he had done. He vowed never to touch cocaine again, promising to put in the work and pleading for you to stay. He wept and wept, and in the end, you chose to remain by his side only if he finally committed to therapy. This was the last strike, you told yourself, and had decided not to give up on him. In sickness and in health, right?

But to your joy, throughout your pregnancy, Frankie's support had exceeded all your expectations. He not only tended to your needs but also went above and beyond to ensure your comfort. From keeping your favourite snacks within reach to massaging your tired feet without even needing to be asked. Yet, among all the beautiful moments, one memory stood out as the most cherished. It was when the two of you would settle on the couch, engrossed in a shared TV show. During these tender moments, Frankie would lovingly rest his head on your gently rounded belly, hoping to connect with the little life growing within. Softly, he would speak to your baby, already creating an intimate bond that filled your heart with warmth.

Those blissful months, both during the pregnancy and in the ensuing months, were magical. Despite the challenges, what mattered most was that Frankie was with you, supporting you and sharing in the journey which made every hardship feel insignificant. It was in those moments that you truly felt that Frankie had come home. As if on a rocket launch, Frankie also seemed to have gotten his mind together following his suspension. He had managed to secure a job at a garage, but the hours were minimal, and the pay meagre. But, despite it all Frankie had been determined to persevere and make the most of this opportunity, all the while preparing for his license appeal.

 However, everything crumbled a week ago. Like every second Friday, Frankie joined his friends to watch and cheer on one of Benny's fights. But as Frankie arrived home late that night, his expression of guilt etched across his face sent an unsettling shiver down your spine. The following day, Frankie was gone.  The only detail you could scrounge from him was that he would contact you three days after the mission concluded. Now, seven days have passed, and anxiety gnaws at your core more violently with each passing day.

After splashing water on your face, you make your way back to your bedroom, where Ella's cries have diminished, leaving behind traces of fatigue on her tiny, reddened face. Bending down, you scoop her up into your arms and begin to hum a gentle lullaby in Spanish. It's the only one from Frankie's repertoire, a sweet melody he had learned from his Abuela during his childhood. As you hold Ella close, her cries gradually subside, replaced by the comforting rhythm of her soft breath against your shoulder. It soothes your heart to witness her drifting back into slumber. So sweet and innocent.

"Oh, my poor little star," you whisper, your voice filled with tenderness as you gaze at Ella. "You miss your daddy, don't you? I miss him too, and I know he misses you just as much." Leaning in, you plant a gentle kiss on her tiny forehead. "I'm so sorry, Ella. It breaks my heart that you're stuck with me. You deserve so much more."

Placing one final kiss on her tiny nose, you carefully lower her back into her crib. As you slowly tread back to your own bed, you feel its emptiness and coldness, a constant reminder of Frankie's absence. Yet, in this moment, you're uncertain if you would even welcome his presence. Slipping beneath the covers, you glance at the clock: 3:30 am. A sigh escapes your lips. Four more hours before you must get up for work. It's not much, but it's better than nothing.

______________________________________________________________

You are abruptly awakened by a jarring, high-pitched beep. Unsettled by the noise, your drowsy eyes struggle to focus on the clock, revealing the time: 5:15 am. You hastily spring out of bed, desperately hoping that Estrella won't stir from the ruckus. Clumsily grabbing your phone, you stumble out of the bedroom, nearly hitting your head on the frame.

"What kind of deranged person calls at this hour?!" you vent, frustration mounting as you spy a string of numbers on the screen that holds no significance. "Hello? Hello?" your anger is met with silence. "Seriously, if this is some sick prank, it's not fucking funny! Some of us have babies who are trying to..." Before you can finish, a voice on the other end of the line interjects.

"Mi cielo..."

"... Francisco?" you gasp, barely able to catch your breath.

"It's so good to hear your voice, cariño," Frankie softly replies, his tone strangely subdued.

" Oh my God, Frankie are you okay?! Where are you?"

"Somewhere in Peru," he quietly responds after a pause.

"Peru?! My God are you safe?" you ask, concern lacing your words.

"I am, mi cielo," he replies, but his tone betrayed him. You know he isn’t okay.

"What happened, Frankie? Are the others with you? I was worried sick, you told me three days, it's been 7!" you cry out, your worry pouring through your words.

"I know, mi cielo, I know. I'm so sorry. Shit went from bad to worst. I never wanted to worry you like that. The others are fine, I mean..." Frankie stumbles over his words before weakly admitting, "Redfly is dead."

"What? Tom is dead?!” you interject, shock and confusion mingling in your voice. You had seen Molly just 2 days ago, she was with the girls at the grocery store. Tom’s oldest had even played peekaboo with Ella while you were confiding your worries to Molly. She had assured you that for all his faults, Tom was a devoted CO and would look after your Frankie.

"While we were making our way back through the Andes, we encountered..." Frankie begins to explain.

"What do you mean you encountered? What were you guys doing walking through the Andes?! You said it was going to be a simple in-and-out!" you interrupt, baffled.

After a weighty pause, Frankie reluctantly continues, his voice laced with culpability, "Our transport failed, it was my fault. There was an accident, and Redfly didn't make it. We carried his body so that Molly and the girls could say their goodbyes."

"Oh, Frankie I am so, so sorry,” you whisper, overcome with a mixture of grief and sympathy.

"I should have listened to you! This entire mission was doomed from the beginning, a disaster waiting to happen. I never should have gone. Maybe if I hadn't, Redfly would still be alive, and I would be home with you and Estrelita," Frankie ranted, his voice quivering with tears.

"Frankie..." you begin, the weight of his words sinking in.

"I'll make it up to you, mi cielo. I'm never leaving again. I never want to leave my girls ever again."

"You said that before..." you quietly whisper. You know it’s unfair after everything he’s been through, but you can’t help yourself. Pain and resentment have made themselves at home deep within your heart, and it’ll take more than a phone call to dislodge them.

"Cariño..."

Wiping away the tears that have started to traitorously stream down your face and with exhaustion seeping into your bones, you keep going, "Estrella is well. She still can't sleep through the night, but Mrs. Hu says she is the loveliest baby she has ever seen. She misses her daddy though." After a brief pause, you add, "We both do."

"I'm so sor..."

"Please, Frankie, I beg you, stop apologizing. Just make sure you come home as soon as you can, alright? We'll figure it out when you're home safe with us," you plead, vulnerable.

"I promise mi amor, I'll be home as soon as possible. I'll be on the first flight today and be home before you know it."

"Good. Please be careful, Frankie."

"Cariño..."

His words are cut off by Estrella's cries from the bedroom. A tightness grips your throat as a lump forms, and you speak with a strained voice, "Can you hear her? It looks like she's ready for her daddy to be home." You tightly press your fist against your mouth, attempting to stifle your sobs.

"I'll be home soon, mi cielo, I promise," Frankie pleads. "Te amo. Te amo. Te amo." He repeats it like a prayer, softly uttered at your altar.

You are unable to speak, your throat too constricted. "Me too," you weakly respond. "I have to go check on Ella. Please be careful."

You end the call and take deep breaths, attempting to steady yourself. The room spins around you, and Estrella's cries echo in the background. As in a trance, you make your back to your bedroom.

"Daddy is coming home, my sweet love," you softly coo, your voice filled with anticipation. Estrella's tired eyes meet your teary gaze, and you can't help but laugh through your tears as Ella sucks on her tiny fist. "My little peanut, Mama will always take care of you. No matter what comes our way, even though you deserve so much more, I promise to be there for you and do my best," you pour out. As Ella drifts back into the realm of dreams, you reach out to the bed and grab Frankie's worn green blanket, hastily tossed aside in your haste. Holding it close, you settle into the rocking chair in the corner, with Ella snuggled against your chest, softly snoring. You drape the scratchy duvet over both of you, the feeling of the coarse blanket bringing some comfort amidst the whirlwind of emotions. Enveloped in its warm embrace, you surrender to drowsiness, cradling Ella in your arms and gently whispering sweet nothings into her ear as you drift off to sleep.

______________________________________________________________

Frankie's gaze remains fixed on his phone, staring at the now empty screen as if willing for your phone number to appear. He yearns to hear your voice again, to hear you reassure him that everything will be okay. He longs for the warmth of your embrace, your fingers gently caressing his hair while he tenderly kisses the back of your neck. The more he stares at the phone, the more a sense of desperation and self-hatred wells up inside him. It's not directed at you, never at you. You and Ella are the only sources of goodness in his life, and he feels he's managed to ruin it all, just like he always does. He has always strived to be a better man for you, always felt unworthy of your love.

He is a man hunted by years of military service and he is acutely aware of his shattered spirit, his inability to adapt to the mundane civilian life. At the VA, he had witnessed the procession of broken men and women, who sacrificed their very beings for their nation, only to be spit out by a system that didn’t give a shit. If not for you and Ella, he fears he would have joined their ranks.

After retiring from active duty, which feels like a lifetime ago, he lived in a perpetual state of limbo. But you were there, his beacon of sweetness, compassion, and patience. For half a year, he held his breath, anticipating the day you would wake up and realize the mistake you made when you said yes and married him. You would finally leave him then and Frankie would be alone, as he deserves. But you never did. You stayed, defied his expectations, and shattered his self-inflicted prophecy. He knows you want him to open his pain to you, to unravel his sadness at your feet, but he is trapped in a prison of his own silence. Unable to be the man you need him to be for both you and Ella.

His subconscious tortures him with these anxieties every other night through relentless nightmares. In some of the worst renditions, he finds himself behind you, following you from a distance unable to touch you. As he tries to catch up, he must crawl through mud, blood, and gore, dragging him down as you seem to float away from him. He screams, but you can’t hear him. When he finally catches up to you, he reaches out his hands and notices their bloodied state, realizing how repulsive he is and how he doesn't deserve to hold you. He always lets his hands drop, watching you walk away with that radiant smile of yours that still brightens his heart, even after all these years. You always call out to him, "Come on, my love, you're falling behind." And he knows he is. But he can't take your hand, can't subject you to his darkness.

His grip on the phone tightens as the tormenting voices in his head grow louder: "She'll leave you now, for sure," "You're unworthy of her," "She'll take Ella and walk away, and you'll deserve it," "Good-for-nothing addict." He hurls the phone across the room, shattering it into pieces. The room feels too small, Frankie feels himself suffocating by the 4 walls, a perfect representation of his dark thoughts closing on him. Quickly, Frankie rises and heads downstairs. In the lobby, his eyes catch sight of the open café bar. He enters and makes a beeline for the imposing counter. Taking a seat on an unsteady stool, he addresses the man behind the counter:

“¿Todavía estás sirviendo alcohol?”

“Sí, lo estoy.¿Qué te puedo servir?” responds the burly bartender.

“Un café y 3 shots de whisky.” Answers Frankie.

“¿Noche difícil?” the bartender asks.

“Vida difícil.” Frankie replies.

“Jajaja, ¿asumo entonces que estás casado?” he queries, as he places the three shots in front of Frankie and begins preparing the coffee.

Frankie swiftly downs the first and then the second shot. Taking a deep breath, he responds:

“Ella y el bebé son lo único que hace que esta maldita vida valga la pena. Y lo arruiné.”

Shaking his head, the bartender goes on, “Dile cómo te sientes, discúlpate y ruega. Si la amas tanto como dices, al menos te escuchará.” Frankie looks away guilty at those words. He knows you and he knows he is being unfair to your love.

“Gracias por el consejo.” Frankie acknowledges.

“De nada, es un placer. Va incluido con el café.”

Frankie lets out a laugh before finishing his last shot, while the bartender attends to the bustling morning crowd. There is no sign of Will or Benny, not even Pope who lives in these kinds of places.

From the corner of his eye, he notices a slick, well-dressed man settling onto the stool beside him, promptly ordering a large black coffee. The man's gaze falls upon the three empty shot glasses before emitting a sly chuckle, locking eyes with Frankie.

"Rough night?" the man inquires, his voice laced with a sleazy undertone.

"You could say that" Frankie responds, attempting to shield himself by burying his face in his cup of coffee. He'd rather not air his problems for all of Peru to see. The lingering buzz from the shots slowly warms him from within. God, he's so exhausted. Sleeping on the cold ground of the Andes for the past week has taken its toll. He isn’t as young as he used to be, age crept up on him. Now, all he craves is to be back home, wrapped in your loving embrace with Ella between you two. Damn it, he even misses that green itchy blanket.

Unfortunately for Frankie, the man seems oblivious to his cues and continues to pry.

"Well, my friend, I think I have just the thing for you," the man remarks, reaching into his side pocket and producing a small baggie overflowing with white powder. Frankie's body freezes.

He hasn't touched that shit since the day he got busted. He promised you he would never use it again, and he has kept that promise. The only one he has kept so far.  A cold droplet of sweat glides down his spine as he becomes entranced by the sight of the little baggie, its contents tempting him with the promise of quieting the voices in his head, numbing the guilt he carries for you, for Ella, for Tom, and for all the other fucked-up things he has done.

"So, you interested? You look like you need it. I'll even give you a discount, my man!" The man slaps Frankie on the back while jiggling the baggie as if to intensify the allure.

"Take it," his conscience whispers, taunting him. "You've already screwed up; what's one more mistake for the road? She won't even find out, and you know what they say, ignorance is bliss.”

Frankie shuts his eyes, and in the darkness, he envisions you—holding Ella in your arms with that disappointed frown of yours. But the moment his mind conjures your image, it fades away, replaced by the haunting sight of Tom's lifeless body sprawled on the ground. A bullet in his head.

The conflicting scenes play out in his mind, like a relentless tug-of-war between his love for you and his hatred of himself.

“Final chance, my man. If you're not interested, I'll find someone else," the well-dressed man leers, his voice oozing with sleaze. The allure hangs in the air, teasing Frankie. Should he yield to one more mistake?

Frankie's trembling hand reaches out, fingers quivering as they inch closer to the small bag before him. At that moment, a surge of regret and guilt floods his senses, clawing at his conscience like relentless demons. His heart aches with the weight of his past mistakes, the pain he has caused, and the promises he has broken. The promise he will break.

Frankie clenches his fists as he seizes the bag, his fingers tightly closing around it. Doubt swirls in him as he wrestles with the bitter truth—he wasn’t a good man and he sure as hell wasn’t worthy of redemption. What difference would one more mistake make?

So, Frankie surrenders. He abandons the fight and lets himself fall. As he pays for the chemical release that will soon free him from himself, he feels your arms holding him tightly and your mouth planting gentle kisses on his face, providing the comfort he so desperately craves. But reality sets in; you're not there to catch him. So, he makes his way to the nearest bathroom, and three words echo incessantly in his mind, like a broken record: “Ignorance is bliss”.

He fucking hopes it’s true.

Next Chapter

[j0kers-light]

His Lighthouse: Tuning In  (LedgerJoker x f!reader)

Tuning In - Oneshot

KEEP IN MIND THIS IS NOT A STORY UPDATE!

Author’s note:  

I’m still in recovery mode but my mind is so bored and filled with ideas! I managed to use my voice to text software to make a little oneshot to hold me over until I can type on my laptop again. If you want to timeline this oneshot in line with the series, I’d say it takes place between Breakfast for Two and Three Steps Back. Roughly? I dunno. It’s a scrap idea I wouldn’t be able to squeeze into the series as it stands right now.

As always, enjoy! I’m actually going to rest my hand now.

Taglist!

@blackreaderatrisk​

A joyful tune escaped your lips.

It didn't have words much less a title, just a string of musical notes you hummed on the fly as you styled your hair.

It was any other day at your penthouse. The sun was beaming into your living room on all of your streaming equipment that was on your desk, ready to go. You had scheduled a virtual meet and greet for your fans that couldn't travel to Gotham to see you.

Cindy thought the idea was marvelous and wanted to make the event bigger than it already was but you toned her down the best you could. You wanted this to be intimate and fun, despite the expected turnout.

You posted the date and time months ago and the original message had already been liked over half a million times on different social media platforms.

In no way were you scared of your fans but that many people on a video? You had some pre-stream jitters.

Thankfully Cindy assigned IT and some background software programmers to make sure the event ran smoothly. But after that, it was all up to you.

She gave you free creative reign. Two hours of content completely up to you to plan and execute.

Saying you were excited was an understatement.

You made a flow chart to keep everything cohesive but added in Q & A slots in between segments for fans. Moderators would be standing by to keep the chat under control and to give you some breathing room so you didn't have to multitask. You planned this out thoroughly after all.

And rightfully so! You had a lot you wanted to cover.

Limited edition box sets were dropping next week and you purchased a main booth at the upcoming GothCon and you wanted everyone to know about it.

Signatures, private photo opportunities, timed book discussions, and new merch for sale at both the event and your online merch shop were available. You name it; it was happening.

You couldn't end the stream without giving a shout out to all of the recent art your fans had created since your last blog post and near the end of everything, you wanted to tease everyone about your new work in progress.

You couldn't help it! So what if you were a little troll? Your community loved that about you.

All of this and more, you hoped to talk about during the stream — if only you could get your hair looking right! You were so busy taking care of Joker these days your daily hair routine had fallen to the wayside.

It was still healthy and gorgeous just.. not right now. Trying to plait multiple braids to the scalp and letting the bottom portion be free and curly while pressed for time was nerve wracking and seemingly impossible.

It also didn't help that Joker was watching your every move.

Apparently he was in a good mood today. He acted more and more like your fake adopted cat by the day.

He wandered outside of his room after breakfast and decided to silently annoy you by parking himself smack dab in front of your desk.

His mind was originally focused on the tv but over time his eyes gravitated to you or rather to your hands that moved like magic through your h/c locks.

You were still working on the first braid and parted your hair with a fine tooth comb - how you did that so neatly without a mirror was mind boggling, and you positioned your hands to move hypnotically to form a braid.

He was also in awe with how fast you moved.

You braided about halfway back to the crown of your head before stopping. From there you let your natural texture be free and wild, spraying it with a curl defining product and incorporated it in thoroughly with a comb to set.

He fought back the urge to walk over and bury his hands into your fine silk. It looked softer than cashmere and it smelled intoxicating from far away. Were you trying to seduce him again?

You were doing a great job if so.

You started sectioning out the second braid but an incoming text on your phone stopped your progress.

It must've been IT in the way you wiped your hands free of any oily residue and fiddled with your computer setup with a huff.

Joker remembered you saying the stream began at the top of the hour. He glanced at the clock and began to worry if you would make it on time.

You were already dressed in a crochet top, a pale cornflower blue that hung off your shoulders, with a choker that proudly sported Will's family crest hanging from a leather band. Once again, fan made art pieces. You looked stunning as always but he knew if your hair wasn't perfect, you would cancel the entire thing.

And since he was secretly a big fan of yours, that was totally unacceptable.

He knew it wasn't his place. You two weren't close by any means, but that didn't stop Joker from standing up and limping towards your desk.

You noticed his presence a little too late.

Before you could open your mouth to ask what he was doing, Joker had already picked up your comb and began sectioning your hair right where you left off.

You turned into a statue.

His presence behind you was ominous yet you felt the gentle way he smoothed your hair back and clipped it out of the way with a hair claw. He used your previous braid as a model and carefully crafted the same halo pattern you began on your scalp in earnest.

Then the unthinkable happened. Joker started to do your hair.

You felt the moment his hands gripped the three strands and wove them up and over, back and forth to follow the pattern you created.

You had so many questions. Where did he learn to braid hair? Who did he practice on? How was he this good?

He applied just the right amount of pressure, not too loose but definitely not heavy handed, to make neat braids within his section. You felt the confidence in his grip, this wasn't his first rodeo.

And just like you did before, he stopped halfway and brushed out your ends, spraying it with your curl pattern styling agent and left it alone to develop into the effortless curls he liked (loved) so much.

IT messaged you again about performing a quick last minute bandwidth test and you gave them the okay while keeping your head straight. Joker paid you no mind and was working on the middle section when you couldn't take it anymore.

"Um.. how did you know how to do this?" You gestured at your head.

Joker's hand froze for a millisecond but continued braiding unfazed. "Would ya believe me if I said prison?"

Your snort told him no.

He smirked to himself but indulged in your curiosity. "But it wasss. One of my prison mates had nice long hair just.. like.. you. Although he's uhh, not alive, to brag about my work, he received all types of comp-li-ments before his.. untimely demise."

He felt you tense up. "You have nothing to worry about my dear Y/n!"

Joker brushed out a new part and caught a snag in the comb making you yelp. Your head followed the tug making it bump into Joker's abdomen. You could feel his muscles through his cotton shirt "Sorry!"

"Hm. That's my line." You tried turning around to apologize further when Joker forcefully jerked your head back straight. "Stay still."

Now that scared you. It would be so easy for him to snap your neck. Is that how he offed his prison mate with the good hair?

You gulped and bobbed your head but instantly regretted that action.

Joker's hands slid from your hair down to your neck where he massaged it gently. He bent down to whisper in your ear. "Now bunny... whaT. Did I just say?"

You felt horrible for being turned on. His hands felt so good around your neck and it took all of your strength not to moan out loud.

"Y/n."

He snapped you out of your thoughts. Your mouth flopped like a fish as you tried to form words that weren't about Joker choking you during that activity.

"You ah.. said to stay s-still." You stared straight ahead at the countdown timer set for your stream.

Thirty-six minutes left. Joker had well over half left to braid. Would you make it through this torture?

"Then be a good girl and.. stay still." He purred in your ear. He stood up straight and went back to work, adding in the golden beads you had scattered on the desk to a few braids that he finished.

Ohhhhh he knew he was cruel and like the obedient girl you were, you listened to him. If you had a tail it would be wagging.

When did you stoop so low?

With five minutes to spare Joker finished your hair for you and you dashed over to the floor length mirror leaning on the living room wall.

You turned your head left and right, admiring Joker's handiwork up close. It was incredibly neat and it matched the first halo braid you did perfectly. You couldn't believe that he did the rest.

You were about to turn and thank him but Joker was already behind you in the mirror.

At times you forgot how tall he was compared to your height. If you moved back any further you would bump into Joker's chest. Not like you minded but!

Once was an accident, twice and he might get curious.

You wanted so badly to rest your weight on Joker or feel his hands in your hair again, scratch that. You wanted to have his hands around your throat again. There was so much power you gave up in that brief moment that had you reeling. You wanted to surrender it again.

"Y/n. I asked if you like it?" His voice startled you again out of the naughty thots.

"Y-Yeah Joker, I do."

His green eyes flickered down to your colored ones, eyeing you warily.

Your reply came out way too breathless, almost like it pained you to answer v He hoped this video stream wasn't making you nervous. He'd stick around (out of sight of the cameras of course) and keep an eye on you.

It's not like he wanted to hear any book announcements or anything. He quickly acclimated to the fact that he was staying with one of his favorite authors but it was still an exciting reminder. You were right there! He could bombard you with questions or annoy you until you fled the room.

Right now, he just wanted to admire your beauty up close.

Joker singled out a strand of your hair that didn't want to curl and wove it around his finger to help it. He lifted the lock up to his nose and sniffed.

Divine.

Your eyes widened witnessing his soft gesture until his eyes met yours in the mirror. They grew heavy almost instantly with an emotion you feared to say aloud.

"Alrightyy your hair is done. Off you go."

And just like that Joker was back to being a jerk, roughly pushing you over towards your desk chair.

You were forced down into it and Joker's hands came to rest on the armrests beside you.

"Now... have fun doing your video blog.. thingy. I'll be here watching." He spun you around to face your laptop and towards the countdown timer that had less than a minute left.

Joker took up his original seat within your line of sight and licked his lips slowly. His smug look did nothing to help calm your arousal as the timer ticked down from thirty seconds.

You had half that time to wipe your mind clean and plaster a big smile on your face as your dear readers joined the stream and flooded the comment section with love and support.

You couldn't think about Joker as the participant counter jumped past three hundred thousand and rising. Did you even have that many active readers? Cindy must've ran a promo behind your back.

It didn't matter, this was your time to shine. "Welcome! Welcome everyone! I'm so excited you all joined!"

[terrablerequests]

youmu konpaku x reader headcanons? Please and thank you if you don't mind.

...I may or may not have forgotten that I have this sideblog.

I have been inspired by the surprising amount of new Xreader blogs that do touhouXreader content to continue doing asks here, so have this.

YOUMU KONPAKU: relationship headcannons

-The half ghost half human and full time servant has fallen for you? How lucky!

-hopefully you enjoy the netherworld since that's where you two would end up spending most of your time together

-helping out with her tasks would become something of a pastime, despite her protests during the first few times you still enjoyed working with her. While she may take her gardening seriously she'll try to teach you all that she knows, just don't expect to do anything too noticeable at first. Cleaning goes by fast when the two of you are focused. Too bad you guys end up horsing around when you think nobody is looking, now raise your broomstick and challenge her to a duel! Of course there's the endless cooking of meals for yuyuko. Use this time to try cooking something new with youmu, she's always excited to try something exotic!

-Speaking of yuyuko she definitely has her eye on the two of you. Thankfully she's fully supportive of your relationship, much to youmu's embarrassment. Frankly it would be impossible to not already be friends with her at this point, besides, why do you think youmu suddenly started getting more time off or why she insists that you accompany youmu with her visits to the market? ("Y/N clearly has a good eye for ripe ingredients and surely you'd want them with you, hmm~?")

-Time spent outside the netherworld is always refreshing! Even if it's just to somewhere you two have already been dozens of times she will always appreciate it. Seeing the natural beauty of gensokyo, long walks/flights spent chatting, and perhaps meeting a few friends along the way (and getting caught up in whatever trouble they seem to always be brewing).

-Seeing youmu in combat is a sight to behold! With her constant training, experience, and little encouragement from you makes her almost unstoppable in a fight. This only intensifies if you join in, an impeccable duo the two of you make! Maybe you two could brainstorm some new patterns to try out next time or try out some different spellcards.

-Youmu herself tends be more honest with her love, resulting in both physical and verbal affection. Her preferred choice is to hug you from the front and rest her head in the crook of your neck, this results in either you two being able to hold a surprisingly casual conversation or something a little more romantic. Being able to lay on the grass (cut to perfection of course) with you by her and just stare into the endless abyss above is her favorite way of winding down after a long day. Even the calm silence that arrives when you two have nothing to say makes her glad to be with you.

-She wasn't always like this with you though! When the relationship was first established her nervousness led her polite manners and sense if dignity turn into almost robotlike actions, that's not even mentioning how mundane she started speaking. Thankfully after the first real date you calmed her down and let her really be herself around you again. You did have to initiate the first kiss, it almost seemed like she was about to but after freezing up so close to your face and maybe shaking a little you just had to close the distance.

-getting to a relationship in the first place started out as a great friendship. Meeting far before the events of a certain spring stealing incident, you two had clicked almost immediately in both personality and tastes. Coming to to her side when fighting off a certain maiden in red had only solidified the bond between you two, even if you both had lost. After ages of working, relaxing, resolving incidents, and whatever else gensokyo had to offer you, you two had only grown closer.

[chronicbeans]

Hey I just thought of this and I feel like it needs to be said (btw sorry if my thoughts are scattered. My ADHD is doing backflips. Hope my message is clear, lol):

I love writing completely self-indulgent fanfiction. Like the fanfiction that is EXTREMELY specific with specific details others may find odd, but make you happy for whatever reason. The fanfictions that have the whole "neko-princess-winged reader" or "half-demon-half-vampire reader" or OCs that some people make fun of, but people like because, as said before, it makes them happy! It helps them express themselves in a fun way! I feel like more people need to be open about writing it, lol. That way, others don't have to feel embarrassed about writing it, or wanting to write it! Sure, some fanfictions may be very serious, and these fanfictions can be taken seriously, but for many I feel it is just something they make because they like it! Like how some fanfictions are passion projects made from a love for the fandom, while others are made to ship themselves with a character, then there are others that someone may make because they were bored and wanted to have fun!

Life's hard sometimes, so people need to find what makes them happy, even if others think that it is odd. As long as you aren't hurting anyone, it's fine! Don't let others put you down or take the fun out of it! If you want a self-ship fanfiction, write it! Or if you don't feel comfortable writing it, don't be afraid to request it from someone you trust to write it! Same goes for any other type of fanfiction, really. Canon x Canon, Canon x OC, or maybe an AU fanfiction or crossover that has no shipping at all. You want something silly? You want something serious? Something fluffy? Maybe you just want something about yourself represented, like your culture, past experiences, etc? Don't be afraid to write it, request it, or whatever! Maybe you want to draw it!

This was just a random thought I had, as I realized how much I really enjoy writing fanfiction that involves my own experiences in them. It might be why I have a lot of self-insert OCs that only take very specific parts of myself, lol. It's always the same experiences, too. I love writing most every type of fanfiction, but I find those to be the most rewarding. Then I also find that, for some reason, I get nervous about posting it, despite the fact that I like it and am kinda proud of it. Well, I guess this is me saying "No more" to that nervousness, and I am now willing myself to write and post some of them for this blog (those fics are a bit old and I wanna rework them). I think a lot of people seem to be very nervous about talking about self-insert, at least in my personal life and from experience, so I just wanted to express my support of this type of content.

If anybody really wants me to write something for them, I'll happily do my best! If you want me to write for an OC, just give me some info and I'll give it a shot! Do you have a more specific request for an x Reader? I'll try it out. I'll even make sure to go out of my way to research things I don't know (I love doing that tbh I find it fun). Don't be scared to do so!

This blog is a safe space for self-indulgent content of any kind, really, as long as it follows my request rules.