#mike's bf

[william-byers-1971]

That's Sadie's Leg Lmfao

will byers bts i love you

[lalallalas-posts]

It's so funny to me that Will is described as sensitive and artsy but well. look who can shoot a gun while the other fights with a candle

[bumbledoubletea]

nothing can ever hurt me more than

“See Micheal? See what happens?”

“What happens when what?”

“I’m the only one that’s acting normal here, I’m the only one that cares about Will”

[followmybadreligion]

Thinking about bf!art who’s so obsessed with you that it borders unhealthy…

You’re the first thing on his mind in the morning; what do you want for breakfast, is that position you’re sleeping in comfortable, are you going to kiss him good morning or just say the words— all questions he sifts through. He doesn’t even have time to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before you consume his thoughts.

Most of the time, he sits on his side of the bed and gazes at your serene figure glowing softly in the early morning light. He hates to disturb you, knowing how upset you usually are when he does, but seeing you like that never fails to awaken an almost desperate need for you within him. He’ll fight it off for as long as possible, but as you release a deep sigh and shift your head his way, showcasing that pretty fucking face, he just can’t help it. So, in the blink of an eye, he’s pressed his body against you, one arm underneath your torso and the other on top of it, caging you in his warmth. He’ll lay there like that with you, matching your rhymic breathing like it were the beat to his favorite song, until you wake for the day, ready and willing to give him all your love.

And boy is he demanding of your love.

Art's like a battery of sorts when it comes to affection. When you've given him enough, charged him with your kisses, affirmations, or whatever else you were willing to give, he's at his best and brightest, going through the world with a big, lopsided grin and tingles in his chest. This is where he likes to be--- full of your love. However, if he feels as if he hasn't gotten his fair share, and starts feeling a little neglected or ignored, be prepared for a completely different boyfriend.

He'll show his discontent in small ways at first-- way more touching, little whines and grumbles when you're focused on something else, pointless reminiscing just to get you to talk-- all ways of him trying to scratch his itch for your attention. But if all that fails, and you're still not giving him what he wants, he gets more and more demanding. You were working on an important work project? Guess who just shut your computer! You were in the middle of a phone call? Guess who has the overwhelming urge to kiss you now! You were on the way to meet up with a friend? Guess who's not letting you out of the house (at least without a fight)? He just can't help it. When it comes to you and your love, he needs all of it and then some.

But, he's also incredibly aware of how smothering he can be sometimes. It's one of the things he's most insecure about in your relationship, actually.

To him, his want for you never runs dry. He could sit in an empty room, with nothing but you to entertain him, and he'd feel as if he'd just sailed the seven seas. So why don't you feel the same? Why do you constantly seem to push for space? Why don't you want all the love he has for you?

He'll rarely ever bring that insecurity up, though. To him, it's pointless-- you can't make yourself want more of what you already have. Instead, he'll just try to find new ways to present it to you.

Naturally, he likes to show his love through his money and his time.

In the beginning, you had to get used to his on-a-whim, thousand-dollar restaurant dates or his random weekend vacations for the two of you. You had to learn how to accept the designer clothes he bought you, or the big bouquets of roses he sent to your house and your job. You had to learn to lean into having a man who was willing to drop any plans he had the second you called him.

And it was a lot.

Sometimes too much, and Art started to pick up on that.

So he adjusted.

Instead of buying you lavish gifts and taking you fancy places all the time, he started to cut back to maybe once or twice a month (still insane but he's trying). He planned smaller, quieter dates for the two of you, like cooking dinner or baking together, or trying new desert shops around the city, and can you tell this boy really likes to feed you? He began to focus his efforts on being more helpful to you, as well. Need him to pick up some dry cleaning? Done. Sick of washing dishes? He's got it covered. Forgot to order groceries for the week? He's already made a list. Any and everything he could do to make life stress-free for you, he'd do.

And then don't even get me started on the sex.

Art is absolutely drunk on you. Your body, your scent, your voice-- all of it.

Before you two were together, Art was ashamed of the way he lusted after you. It made him feel perverted and dirty sometimes, the way he’d be practically drooling at the slightest glimpse of your shape. He was always the first to view your Instagram stories, (because he had your page notifications on) and at first he told himself that he was just eager to see your cute little selfies or your adorable little fit checks. The amount of cleavage you displayed was just a plus! But soon after, he found himself fiendish over the detail pictures you’d post, showcasing your tight-fitting shirts, or the necklaces that dangled just above your tits, or the low-waisted jeans that curved artfully around your ass. The way you presented yourself was just so enticing to him. A little at a time, just a glimpse per picture. Enough to let his imagination run wild, but not enough to fulfill his fantasies.

So you can imagine that from the time Art got his first fill of you and then on, he was in heaven. You were better than every fantasy, dream, thought- everything he’d ever dreamt up. The second you pulled off his shirt and told him to lay back, that you’d give him what he needed, he was a lovesick puppy under your care, and he loved that. He swore with every command you gave or moan you drew from him, he was falling deeper into you.

However, this also ignited a new passion in him. He had to be the best, just as he felt you were. Had to be good for you, or else what was his purpose?

So, he spent hours and hours studying the porn you watched, trying so desperately to mimic the strokes and moans of the men you got off to. He studied the positions you liked and even did a little research on his own to know which ones would feel the best for you. He wanted to make you throw your head back in bliss, moan uncontrollably, and glow from how good you felt, time and time again, and he was determined to do what it took to make that happen. He'd do it all and then some, and all he needed to hear was you saying his name.

Oh, and speaking of saying his name, that's one of his biggest turn-ons. He likes to say there's a certain tone you use, intentionally or not, that mimics the sultriness of a siren, and he can't stop himself from getting hard every time he hears it. Maybe it's the tone itself, or the fact that you're calling him in the first place, but he can't help the way his mind gets all fuzzy from it, only focusing on your voice and the way your lips move to say the syllable.

There’s nobody else on the planet that has ever, or will ever make Art feel the way you do. You make his body feel ways it never has, make his heart light up with feelings he didn’t know existed. In such a short span of time, you’ve become his everything, and that’s why he’s determined to keep you as his for as long as he can.

As long as he can. As long as you let him. Because he’ll be only yours for forever and ever.

Your sweet, lovesick bf!art.

part 2

A/N: this was just a massive brain dump for art since he’s been on my mind since i watched the movie LOL. want him SO BADDDDD

[coolgrl111]

what if you did toxic!bf! patrick w reader but art steps in bc he’s seeing how readers being treated and he’s liked her all along….

🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢

[avrizl]

authors note - i legit have not written in a YEAR🫡 please excuse this bs i need to feed you guys.

bf!mike holding you as you cry into his arms, stroking the back of your head lovingly, “shhh.. it’s okay.. i’m right here..” he never fails to make you feel safe with his touch.

bf!mike cupping your face ever so gently as he kisses you softly and lovingly, as he pulls away to look at you he rubs a reassuring thumb over your cheek.

bf!mike peppering your face with kisses as he walks into the door after a long night shift at the pizzeria as he wraps around you tightly swinging back and forth because he truly believes he will die without being around you for longer than 6 hours.

bf!mike smiling with a glimmer in his eyes as he sees the lights on the christmas tree you guys put up together, he hasn’t seen one in full like this since he was 13.

bf!mike buying you flowers at literally every chance he gets, there isn’t a room without flowers in a vase and all of the past bouquets he’s gotten you have been dried and the petals are in a vase.

bf!mike who will literally do ANYTHING. for you and i mean anything this man worships the ground you walk on and literally is obsessed with you.

bf!mike who believes you look beautiful no matter what you’re wearing, or how your hair is, or if you have makeup on or not. no matter the situation he is going on and on about how beautiful you are and how you get more and more beautiful each day

bf!mike who feels incredibly guilty because he can never cook you a nice dinner (he burns it almost every single time) “i’m so sorry.. i just wanted to make you something nice” with the biggest puppy eyes ever he says this and your heart melts. (when you’re gone he lives off of lunchables).

bf!mike who runs you a bath when you don’t feel good like he goes all out like epson salt and ALL. and candles too and he brings you snacks. “ ‘m sorry you don’t feel good baby.. i wish i could make it all go away”

bf!mike who smiles at you lovingly when you play with abby, or draw with her, carry her around, and tuck her in bed. he sees you as a motherly figure to her, and he can tell that abby trusts you and loves you a lot.

[michaelsfavgirl]

Fuck boyfriend, he’s so husband coded!

[ethicallmurder]

[peanutbyler]

modern byler wooo!!

[bonniesbluee]

Stalker dodge masonxbimbo reader?

you lit up his day whenever you come through the door of the diner he worked in.

skimpy skirt, tight shirt that didnt help with containing your ur breasts, the way the glimmery thon of yours peaked over skirt. but it wasn't just your looks, it was your personality. you had somehow made him break down his walls and made him feel...cared for? but things could never be rainbows snd sunshined either dodge, no.

soon, the affecrion turned into obsession, into possive urges to touch you and protect you from every one around you. it was triggered when u and him were conversating while he poured you a drink. to be fair he was ignoring some costumers; you just look so cute and innocent when you talk about everything but nothing at the same time. but then a drunk man decided to throw a snarky jab about you, about you looking like a slut? he doesn't quite remember because the moment he saw your smike falter he was already punching the guy. after that, he walked u home. he didnt even bother clocking out of lingering for any explanation of the guy.

after that he didnt ever let you get out of his eye sight. from driving around your neighborhood before, during, and after his shift. in occasions he felt loney, or just missed you he would park his car infront of your house snd simply sleep there. he didn't know why, maybe because being so close (yet so far) from you and yiur hiuse willnreassure him you're safe. that no one will come in and out of your house without him knowing.

and as for now he isnt planning on going farther. but some cameras around your house, possibly even inside of your house wouldn't hurt. he knows its wrojg, sick snd twisted. but he's doing it for you. you are simply too... vulnerable in a place of scary, cruel people. they dont deserve you, your kindness, body, thoughts and feelings. he's the only one that deserves you at your rawest moments. its only a matter of time u realize that too.

[hello-sweetheart]

Steve who has Great Dane vibes

Like he’s a big guy athletic so you know he’s mostly muscle and he seems unaware of this fact

He likes to sprawl on people. Just leans his full weight on their back or throws an arm around their shoulder and has the audacity to relax into it

As if he’s not a hulking figure of a man much like a Great Dane will try and insist that they can sit on your lap

And everyone around him is either tiny or scrawny or BOTH so they end up winded half the time, push him off them like “steve buddy pls… I can’t breath”

Steve sprawling on robins back while’s she’s browsing language books and accidentally smooshing her into a bookshelf when he goes deadweight on her-

Robin: oh god this is how I die? get off me!!

Steve (whining): but you’re taking soo looong

Steve trying the same thing on Mike (his favorite victim)

Steve: oh no! Gravity is increasing on me

Mike already knocked splat on the ground: NO ITS NOT!!

Steve (goes deadweight): is too Mike, the same thing happened yesterday

Mike: YOUR BUTT IS CRUSHING ME

[the-yappstronaut]

eddie kaspbrak taking off that showercap when richie says its ugly is the IT equivalent to mike wheeler wearing that wack ass outfit to meet will in the airport

[roryheartz]

josh o’connor is my girlfriend

[followmybadreligion]

thinking about fighting w/ your obsessed bf!art…

Art absolutely hates fighting with you. He hates the heated silences that follow each conversation; the glares and scoffs you throw at him in the heat of the moment; the distance between you as you calm down— he hates it all. No matter what the fight is about, or who’s technically in the wrong, he doesn’t care; he just hates to be at odds with you.

It makes him nervous, in all honesty.

You see, he’s known relationships to fall apart in the midst of hard times, which is why he fears them so badly. In his mind, if he can make you happy— not stress you out or make you upset—then he can keep you forever, and that’s all he really wants.

Sadly, though, you two live in reality, where conflict is damn near unavoidable. Sometimes it’s over petty little things like eating each other’s leftovers or forgetting to fold laundry, and other times there’s more serious issues at play like crossed boundaries or painful words. In either scenario, Art pushes himself to respond the best he can, despite his anxiousness. If he did something to annoy you, then he’s more than willing to hear you out and apologize. If he crossed a boundary then he’s going to dedicate so much effort to respecting it in the future. Anything he can do to improve for you, he’s willing to.

With his nature, though, comes such a dangerous power over him. You’re practically his heart outside his body— he can’t stand it when you’re upset, which can drive him to take desperate measures for your forgiveness. You want him on his knees begging and crying? He can do that. If you’re upset he’s already close enough to tears as is. You want gifts and treats to make up for your pain? That was a given, and best believe he’s got flowers and your favorite meal before the thought crossed your mind. He’s even willing to do things that he knows he shouldn’t. One of this friends made you feel insecure? He’ll cut them off without a second thought. You feel as if he’s not spending enough time with you? He’ll cancel all his plans for the week. Whatever you need to feel comfortable, safe, and secure again— it’s done, no questions asked, and all you have to do is tell him.

When it comes to your mistakes though, Art is a completely different person. His whole, “be quick to act, let’s solve the problem,” motto goes straight out the window and instead, a quieter, more passive man surfaces.

He’s almost never the one to address the issue, mainly because he’s too caught up in not wanting to hurt your feelings. He knows that you’re a good partner— that you love him so much even though you lash out or misspeak sometimes— and yes, it hurts his feelings, but that’s something he tries to repress.

Thankfully, though, you know better.

Even though Art tries to act as if he has thicker skin than he does, he’s actually a very sensitive boy. It makes him so sad when you yell at him or get snippy about things, so much so that he’s cried several times over it. He’ll never tell you that out of fear of seeming weak or overdramatic, but it’s true. Just you raising your voice at him can get his tears running hot, and he can’t even work up the courage to let you know that.

Thankfully, though, you’re truly an amazing partner and can pick up on these things on your own. Despite the soft little reassurances paired with that lop-sided, sad smile he throws your way when you apologize, you never miss how his eyes swell with thick tears that he desperately tries to blink back. You never miss how his hands shake as you brush over them, or how his shoulders hunch in defeat either, and all of it breaks your heart.

It may take a while, especially with Art so closed off, but the best way to make any progress with him in those times is to validate him. His feelings and emotions have already been discarded in so many aspects of his life, and that’s only solidified his belief that he’s not allowed to have them. So, hearing you, his entire world, tell him that it’s okay for him to be upset, sad, angry or however else he feels— it just melts all of his guilt away. It makes him feel like more of a person, entitled to the wants, needs, and opinions he tries to repress, and that in itself does so much.

During the calm down of an argument— the peace after the tension and tough talks— Art is, by nature, extremely clingy. After being on edge for such a long time, he’s just extremely exhausted, and really wants to be loved on. He craves your attention and affection again— it makes him feel safe and secure. He is very particular in the way he goes about asking for it, though.

If you’re the type of partner that needs their time and space after some conflict, he’ll give you that. He understands how draining it can be to be around people in general, let alone someone you just fought with. If you are up for some time with him though, this is the time where he’ll be as soft as he gets— and that’s saying something.

He talks very softly— almost in whispers, as if to not disturb the balance between the both of you. His voice is strained and flat, cracking every now and again from the choked tears resting in the back of his throat, and his lips are pursed in a thin line out of habit. Still though, his words are like the sweetest honey.

“Can I hold you now, baby?” He’ll whisper, eyes lowered and shoulders tense as he awaits your reply.

The second you’re in his arms again is the second his tears flow past. He’ll bury his face in your neck to hide them, still a bit embarrassed at how anxious he’d been, but you hear his muffled sobs nonetheless, racking through his body in huge waves. As much as you hate to see him like that, it’s all his way of processing, and it’s best to just let him let it out— you know that now. You can still comfort him in the best ways you know how, though. He really appreciates that. Gentle coos and “I know, baby’s” whispered in his ear; soothing back rubs and soft traces along his face; long kisses placed on his temple, hands, or wherever else you can reach; it all grounds him so much.

Once he’s in a calmer headspace, still soft but not as fragile, you can finally start to talk. If there were words left unsaid or points misunderstood, this is usually the time to get clear about them. The both of you are all drained of any fight, pride, or stubbornness that got in the way before, and instead, you both are just eager to come back together. So that’s exactly what you do.

Art’s not stupid. He knows that it’s easy to promise one another change and forgiveness when you’re desperate to be in each other’s arms. He knows it’s easy to whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears just to get through the night. He knows it’s easy to make false promises that’ll make sure that the other will stay. He knows, he understands, and so he’s careful. If he feels it’s not the right time to talk things out, he’ll let you know, and he makes sure that you know that you have that option as well.

At the end of every fight there’s always one specific question that Art asks that confuses you every time he does. You could be laying in bed together, resting on the couch, doing a few chores or anything else for that matter, but he just has to know: do you still love him?

His eyes are usually full of anxiety as he stammers through the words, almost as if he doesn’t even want to ask it, but something’s making him. Perhaps it’s nerves, or his overthinking, or something you said to make him doubt, but either way, that question, and the anxiety it induces, reigns over him until he knows— until you give him a straight answer, even if it’s not what he wants to hear (it always will be).

To you, it’s the most obvious thing in the world. How could you not? How could you not love the man who just spent so much time fighting for the two of you? Who considers you more than himself? Who’s so in love with you that the mere thought of you feeling any differently runs him up a wall? To you, he’s the most lovable man on the planet, the Earth and Heavens to you, and every fight only highlights that.

And that’s exactly what you tell him.

And you get to watch his anxious eyes melt into those soft, love-filled ones you live to see. Every. Single. Time.

Make-up sex with Art comes in all different sorts of variations, but no matter the pretense, it’s oh so love-filled.

There are sometimes where Art’s in a more submissive head-space after y’all’s conflict, and he just wants you to take care of him. He’s already so drained from what’d just happened, and he just wants that little bit of personal attention, you know?

So, when he’s pulling you into the bedroom, button-down shirt half opened and stained by his tears, asking you to “Make up with him” through glazed eyes and a quivering lip, you know exactly what he’s asking for.

In front of your floor-length mirror, you’d have him resting against you, shirt off and discarded, with his pretty, pink cock in your hands as you fist away. He’d squirm and moan at your touches, occasionally begging for some rest or a slower pace, but you know just like he does that he needs this.

You’d pull and pull and pull, occasionally slowing down to run your thumb over his slit, a motion that sends chills down his back in an instant, before returning to your original pace. His balls don’t go neglected either, being rubbed and messaged by your free hand in relatively face pace motions to match your strokes. The entire time, you’re leaned down to his ear, whispering the filthiest words you could imagine.

“My pretty, pretty boy, leaking and shaking for me like this,” you’re mumble, pressing a small kiss against his neck, earning a light, drawn out moan from Art.

“God, I could watch you do this all day.” You’d giggle, looking him dead in the eyes as his cock spurted streams of hot, white cum all over your hands and his stomach. He’d struggle underneath you, both from the overstimulation you’d begun and the over powering urge he feels to reciprocate. He hates to be greedy, and after the first orgasm, he feels you’ve taken care of him plenty, but you wouldn’t let up though, forcing him to sit through another orgasm or two before you decided he’d had enough.

In the moments following, you either licking his cum from your fingers or feeding it to him, all that Art can think about is getting his mouth on you. He has quite the oral fixation, and you shoving your fingers past his lips, letting him suck on them to his hearts content, only triggers it more than it already had been.

So, you’re never surprised when he turns around in your arms, pulling you by your thighs until your back rests against the floor, legs splayed out and pussy on full display.

Art eats and eats like a man deprived of nutrients, lapping at your swollen little clit like a depraved dog of some sort. He sucks up all your juices, eyes rolling back as he tastes you and cock only growing harder at the position he’s in. To have your thighs wrapped around his head, pressing tighter and tighter around him the closer you get; to have your moans ringing through his ears, getting louder and more high pitched the more that he goes; it’s a dream come true for him, and an extremely big fucking turn on, showcased by his desperate humps against the floor.

The second you tell him you’re on the edge, so close to letting it all go for him, is the second he really starts to lose it. His grip on your thighs gets impossibly tighter, keeping them locked around his face as he ravages you, and his moans and groans get even more intense, sounding like something straight out of a porn, to be completely honest. He keeps his eyes locked up towards you, desperate to see every second of you falling apart for him, and the second you do, a sense of pure and utter euphoria runs through him.

He lets you pull and tug on his long, shaggy locks all the way through your climax, releasing your clit just long enough to place long, gentle kisses against your pussy. He doesn’t even realize that the bottom half of his face is covered in the sheen of your juices once he’s done, nor does he care, far too brain fucked to even register it.

What he does register, though, is your restless hands in his hair once again, pulling him up from in between your legs as you sit up from out of your position on the floor. He registers how you pull him in for a slow, deep kiss and push your tongue past his lips, massaging his own with soft, gentle flicks. He does register how you push yourself on top of him, grinding your pussy against him back and forth as you two get even more high off of each other.

You continue that for a while, grinding and kissing until you can feel him making a new pool of pre-cum underneath you. Then and only then do you break away, much to Art’s dismay, and look down towards the space in between you two.

He’ll beg and beg for you to touch him again, kiss him, grind on him, fuck him— something, anything— but you don’t pay him any mind, instead opting to take his cock in your hands and run it between your folds. The way you rest your hand against his stomach as you do this, pressing down on his lower belly, is enough to make him finish right there, but he tries his best to hold out. Nothing feels as good as cumming inside you, that he knows.

When you do finally decide to fuck him, having had enough of the silly little games, you really give it to him. He’s not the biggest guy in the world, an inch or two above average, so it doesn’t take you long to get adjusted, and once you finally are, you waste no time bouncing on him like your life depends on it.

He always loves when you fuck him like this— like a dildo or a sex-doll just meant for your pleasure. You’ll tug on his hair or grab on to his tight, broad shoulders for a better grip, leaving imprints and scratches all across him, and it just drives him wild. He loves being marked by you, covered in your love bites, hickies, and scratches. All just a reminder that he was useful. All just a reminder that he’s yours.

Once your hands find there place back against Art’s lower stomach, he knows he’s a goner. You’ve made him cum in a matter of seconds with that move every single time you’ve done it, and this times damn sure not gonna be the exception.

What really pushes him over the edge is the way you practically keen as his cock goes up further, hitting your g-spot at the perfect angle to have you practically singing. The shit that leaves your mouth then is something that he’ll play in his mind forever.

“Fuck, you’re gonna do it, baby. You’re gonna make me cum, mmhm.” You moan out, head nodding off as you bounce even harder against me.

“Tell me you love me,” you’d demand as neared your climax, words all slurred from how good you feel. He does, of course, whispering sweet praises and declarations of his love for you as he gets closer and closer to that sweet relief.

“God, you’re so—fucking—good,” you’d call out as you finally came, body shaking and twitching above him as you struggled to hold yourself up. He’s not far behind you, tight coil in his stomach finally snapping as he sees you bottom up on top of him.

He’ll moan, beg, shake, and cry as his orgasm crashes into him like a roaring wave, knocking his brain off kilter as the pleasure overtakes him. He shoots such a big load, watching as your bounces spread it up and down his cock in such a pretty mess that’s so satisfying to him.

You’ll give him a few more bounces, riding through the rest of your highs before your lips are on his again, this time in a much softer, sweeter way. Your hands would rake through his hair, finger pads massaging over his scalp in efforts to ease the tension from your pulling earlier, and your other hand would move down to grip his hand in yours, just how he loves.

“I love you, baby.” You’d whisper as you pull away, hand coming up to rest against his chest, feeling his heart beat still pounding.

“I love you so much more,” he’d respond, soft smile crossing his lips as he stared up at you through his lashes, “I promise.”

[coolgrl111]

okay my brain is telling me that art would meet reader at a party, have a super awkward conversation and think he fumbled a baddie (💔💔) and then before he leaves she gives him her number and you’d swear he’d seen god bc of how happy he was

oh my god yes 😭😭 like we KNOWW he has game, we know he has skill when he wants to, but also he’s a loser and a little starstruck too… he can’t help but be so shy and awkward. it’s not his fault. i’m gonna try my best here for you anon…

—

art meets her at a party, the kind where the music is too loud and the air is thick with the scent of cheap beer and shitty perfume. he isn’t even supposed to be here—he doesn’t really do parties, not when he has a game the following day. not like patrick does—but then he sees her, and suddenly he’s rooted to the spot.

she’s radiant, effortless in a way that makes his chest ache, his stomach churn, laughing at something someone else said, and for some reason, he gets it into his head that he should go talk to her. so he does. tries to.

it’s a disaster.

he stumbles over his words, says something about the weird drink he’s holding, and she just looks at him, amused but unreadable. he tries again, asking something about her classes, her major, her thoughts on the terrible dj. she humors him, but the conversation never quite finds its rhythm, stalling in awkward silences and half-smiles. it’s kind of adorable, but to him, it’s hell.

he leaves feeling like he’s just fumbled the biggest moment of his life. she was so cool, and he was so not, and now he has to live with the knowledge that he had a chance and fucked it up.

just as he’s about to slip out the door, she finds him, slipping a small piece of paper into his hand, her fingers brushing his for half a second too long.

“you should text me,” she says, and then she’s gone, back into the swell of the party, leaving him standing there staring at the number in his hand like it’s some kind of holy artifact.

he swears he’s just seen god.

[liveforever7]

we were robbed of byler in highschool together before but we're getting them in season 5 !!!!