#my wallet cries enough

[clockspur]

Now it’s not just Snorlax telling me to eat regularly and go to bed on time; it’ll be Raikou too🌩️

[jagerstian]

Siiiiiiiggghhhh im so young... I shouldn't have to see so many doctors at this age...

[cecilogical]

I just bought a kris charm that lights up and... stars, im so excited for when it arrives!!! A glowing charm???? It's already cool. A glowing charm of KRIS DREEMUR? Even cooler! I just would need to figure out where to put them since my cats scratched up my corkboard.... haha.

[misspygmypie]

Park Panic to Crawling Crisis

Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader, Lando Norris x Baby Maebry Words: 1617 Request: lando and noah series request - noah getting hurt and lando just panicking or baby girl getting hurt and lando panicking Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

They had planned a simple Tuesday afternoon outing to the park, a rare chance for Lando to take a break from the demanding world of Formula 1 and spend some quality time with Y/N and five-year-old Noah. Y/N had taken Noah to the park earlier in the day, excited to let him burn off some energy before Lando joined them. Lando, always punctual in his professional life, was running a bit behind but was eager to catch up.

When he approached the park the sounds of children's laughter filled the air. Lando scanned the area and spotted Y/N and Noah near the playground. Noah was climbing the jungle gym and Lando had to smile seeing him. He waved and called out to his girlfriend and her son.

Noah looked up, his face lighting up when he spotted the young man. “Lando!” he shouted, waving enthusiastically.

The Brit felt a surge of joy as he started walking over but then he heard a loud, piercing cry that made his blood run cold. It was Noah’s voice and it was followed by a heart-wrenching sob.

Lando’s face went pale and his instinct took over. He sprinted towards the boy, his usual grace and agility as a driver replaced by sheer panic. He dodged a toddler on a tricycle and practically flew over a bench, his eyes wide and frantic.

When he reached Noah the scene was enough to make his heart skip a beat. The boy was lying on the grass, clutching his ankle and crying loudly. Y/N was kneeling beside him, her face worried but her actions calm and practiced.

“What happened?” Lando’s voice came out in almost a high-pitched squeak as he dropped to his knees beside them. “Is he okay? Should we call an ambulance? Is he-”

Y/N quickly intervened, placing a hand on Lando’s arm. “Lando, it’s okay. Noah twisted his ankle when he fell and he has a tiny scrap on his knee. It’s not too serious, just sore and his knee is barely bleeding. We can handle this.”

Lando’s eyes were darting around as if searching for a sign or a guide on what to do next. “Are you sure he doesn’t need help? Maybe we should-”

“No, Lando,” Y/N said firmly, though her lips were twitching with a hint of amusement. “It’s just a twist. We have everything we need, we just need to calm down. Can you please grab some ice from the cooler and a bandaid from my purse?”

Lando’s hands were shaking as he fumbled with his girlfriend’s purse, rummaging through the items and pulling out several things. Y/N tried not to laugh as Lando frantically pulled out her wallet but his panic led him to accidentally slap himself in the face with it. “Ow! I’m hurting myself now,” he yelped.

“Lando, focus,” Y/N said, trying to keep her voice soothing despite the situation’s absurdity. “We need to get ice on Noah’s ankle.”

Lando nodded vigorously, though he was still visibly shaking. He wrapped some of the ice from the little cooler back they had brought with some sandwiches in a towel but struggled to hold it gently against Noah’s ankle without slipping. “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m just really, really sorry.”

Noah, still sniffling but looking more curious than pained now, reached up and patted Lando’s cheek. “Lando, you’re making funny faces.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at the boy while Y/N was placing a bandaid on her son’s knee. “I was just really worried, Noah. I didn’t mean to freak out so much.”

“It’s okay, Lando,” Y/N rubbed Lando’s back reassuringly, “Noah is fine and you’re doing great.”

Lando took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. He glanced at Y/N, who was expertly wrapping the ice pack in place. “Okay, okay. I’m finally calming down. No more panicking. Just focus on making sure Noah’s okay.”

The boy’s cries had turned into soft whimpers and he began to smile slightly. “Can we go get ice cream now?” he asked, his mood shifting as the pain began to ease.

Lando’s face brightened. “Absolutely, ice cream is the best medicine!”

Y/N chuckled and helped Lando carefully lift Noah onto his back. When they started walking toward the park exit Lando was slightly embarrassed. “I think I made a bit of a scene back there.”

“Just a bit,” Y/N grinned, “but it’s okay, it’s nice to see how much you care, even if it means panicking like that.”

Lando laughed, his cheeks reddening. “Well, if you ever need someone to handle a twisted ankle, I’m your man. Just don’t expect me to stay calm about it.”

They reached the ice cream stand and Noah’s face lit up as he chose his favorite flavor. Lando, now much more relaxed and even a little embarrassed by his earlier performance, watched with a smile as Y/N and Noah enjoyed their treats.

Once they sat together on a park bench Lando watched how Y/N and Noah enjoyed their treats. Happily licking her ice cream Y/N leaned over and gave Lando a playful nudge. “You can be quite dramatic.”

“I guess so,” he chuckled. “But I’d do it all over again if it means making sure Noah’s okay.”

______

Lando had finally found some downtime from his intense racing schedule and he, Y/N and their eight-month-old daughter were all enjoying a few peaceful moments in the living room together while Noah was playing with the Legos in his room. Y/N had been organizing some things while Lando sat on the floor, playing with Maebry, who had just started crawling.

Lando was trying to coax Maebry to crawl towards him with a bright, crinkly toy that jingled when shaken and the girl was slowly inching her way across the soft carpet, giggling as she reached for the toy.

“Come on, Maebry! Almost there,” Lando cheered, hoping to encourage his daughter.

Y/N watched from the sofa, a warm smile on her face as she admired Lando’s playful side. “She’s getting really good at crawling,” she said, gently folding a blanket.

Just as she was about to reach the toy she wobbled slightly and lost her balance. Her tiny hands flailed as she tumbled forward, landing face-first on the carpet. The fall wasn’t far but it was enough to make Maebry let out a startled cry. The sound cut through the room and Lando’s heart immediately stopped.

“Mae,” Lando’s voice was high-pitched as he scrambled over to her, nearly toppling over himself in his rush. He reached Maebry and gently lifted her into his arms, his face pale with concern. “Oh no, are you okay, sweetheart?”

Y/N was already by their side, her face also concerned but trying to stay calm. “Lando, it’s okay. It’s just a little fall. She’s probably just startled.”

Lando’s hands were shaking as he checked Maebry over, his eyes darting around as if searching for an instruction manual. “But what if she’s hurt? Maybe she’s got a concussion or-”

“Lando,” Y/N said, placing a calming hand on his arm. “She’s fine. It was just a small tumble. Let’s not overreact.”

He was still holding his daughter as if she were made of glass. He looked at Y/N with wide, panicked eyes. “But what if she’s in pain? What if she’s-”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying not to laugh at Lando’s over-the-top reaction. “She’s not in any serious danger. Just comfort her and calm her down, she’ll probably start smiling again in a minute.”

Maebry was indeed starting to calm down, her initial cries fading into soft whimpers. She reached out for her dad’s face, her little fingers brushing his cheeks. 

Lando’s eyes softened as he looked at her. “I’m so sorry, Mae,” he said, his voice still slightly trembling. “I just got really scared. Daddy’s here, okay?”

“Here, let her hold this,” Y/N grabbed a soft toy and handed it to Lando, who gently placed it in Maebry’s tiny hands, “it might help her feel better.”

Lando held his daughter close, his heart still racing but his panic subsiding when he saw her starting to smile. “You’re so brave,” he said, giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. “I promise I’ll try not to freak out next time.”

Y/N settled back onto the sofa, shaking her head with a loving smile. “You know, for someone who’s so calm on the racetrack you turn into a bit of a drama king when it comes to our kids.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lando raised an eyebrow, a curious smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head as she looked over at him. “Remember when Noah hurt his ankle at the park when he was five? You practically turned into a wreck. I thought you were going to call an ambulance.”

Lando groaned, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his grin. “Alright, alright, point taken. I guess I do get a little more dramatic when it comes to the kids. I guess I’m just better at handling high-speed chases than small injuries.”

As Maebry began to crawl again, this time more cautiously, Lando watched her closely, ready to catch her if she fell again but trying to hide his lingering anxiety behind a reassuring smile.

Y/N leaned over and rested her head on Lando’s shoulder. “She’s doing great. And so are you, even if you are a bit of a panicker.”

“I guess I’ll need to work on my ‘calm under pressure’ skills when it comes to parenting.”

________

AN: I couldn't decide so I wrote something with both kids lmao Anon, I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶

Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya @sltwins

[lnfours]

massive congratulations on 11.8k!!! that is so amazing, so so happy for you!! and thank you so much for such a fun sleepover event💛

🍊 “i don’t think i’ve ever felt the way i do with you with anyone else.” “what does that mean?” “what do you think it means?” with lan🫶🏼 (almost cried reading that prompt actually)

thank u my love 🥺🤍 i also almost cried reading this prompt and then sobbed into my pillow after writing this SO i hope its everything you wanted it to be!

11.8k friends to lovers sleepover

the sound of the door of the hotel room shutting pulled you from your phone, your eyes looking up and meeting the boy dressed in papaya. he tossed his paddock pass, phone and wallet down on the small table in the corner, sighing to himself before kicking off his shoes.

you watched him sadly, not sure of how to start the conversation. you had seen the race, you knew everything people were writing. you say the 'max vs lando fued' headlines reporters were running with. it was hard to not see it, and it was even harder to let him know he had done a good job when he was like this. when he felt that everything he's done wasn't good enough, even if it was. when he blamed every single tiny mistake onto himself. it was hard. hard to see someone you loved and cared for so much beat themself up over something as tiny as a wheel to wheel combat.

so when he turned around, a tired, frustrated and sad look etched onto his face as he looked at you, your only response was to open your arms. and without protest, he climbed onto the edge of the bed and joined you, your arms wrapping around his neck as he laid on top of you, his cheek pressing against your chest, your chin resting on his curls.

"wanna talk about it?" you asked gently.

he shook his head, "tired of talking about it."

you nodded, "then we won't."

he played with the stitching on your shirt, keeping his mind busy from thinking about everything that went wrong. instead, he was thinking about how good it felt to be in your arms. how lucky he was that you'd show up every time he needed you, no questions asked. his heart tightening in his chest as he took in the smell of your perfume, a smell that was once just pleasant now feeling like home.

"i don't think i've ever felt the way i do with you with anyone else." his brain too tired of putting up a fight to filter what his mouth was saying. your eyebrows pulled together as you looked down at him.

"what does that mean?"

"what do you think it means?"

your heart pace skyrocketed and you knew he could hear it, but he didn't mention it. he didn't poke fun of you or say anything about it at all, instead he shifted so he was looking up at you.

"lando,"

"i'm serious," he said, green eyes almost swallowed by how large his pupils were, and now you were wondering how long they've always done that without you noticing, "you're it for me."

you smiled softly, reaching out a brushing his hair back from his forehead, nails scratching his scalp. he smiled back at you, tiredly but you knew the look in his eyes. the look of complete infatuation and love.

"i don't think i've ever felt this way with anyone else either." your voice was barely above a whisper.

that's all he needed to hear before he was cupping the side of your face and pulling you in, his lips meeting yours. a new feeling, but a good one. a feeling that had your body burning and heart racing.

he poured every ounce of pining and love into the kiss as he could as you did the same. pulling away with smiles on both your faces before he started placing kisses all over your face, your cheeks, your nose and your eyelids as you giggled.

[urwonnly]

— ꩜ ENHYPEN BF HCS !

# hyung line ver.

# genre : fluff

# format : bulletpoint

# warnings : none :3

# note : i'll be posting maknaes soon! there may also be a nsfw ver. for legal line... (these r my opinions, they are not meant to be an accurate portrayal of any of them. this is me being delusional lmao)

# tags : @hoonigiris @kimsohn bc i would not have finished this without them <3 thank u for helping me with this

⟢ HEESEUNG

loves seeing you get along with his friends. like it genuinely makes him feel like you can fit right into his life so perfectly 

wants something long term, looks to be with someone he can spend a long time with

casual intimacy; holding your hand in a crowd, hand around your waist when you stand next to each other, resting his head on your head. just likes to feel close to you :( 

likes taking you places, like you tell him you wanna try this new food spot and he says hes picking you up in ten minutes 

uses cheesy one liners just to see your face scrunch up before you laugh, thinks your laugh is the most beautiful thing 

rarely uses your name, he is always calling you some sort of pet name (and when he wants to be silly he calls you shit like “beautiful sweetie muffin cake”) 

he will pout if you dont use a term of endearment back

is also super supportive and encouraging; you mention slight interest in a new hobby and he’s immediately sending you videos of things you’d need and asking if you want him to get it for you

he loves seeing you succeed in whatever you put your mind to and loves to know that he can be a motivation behind those achievements 

you call him your muse one time and he almost cries 

hates to see you down, is the type to immediately try and cheer you up. but if you tell him you need space he will respect that (but he’ll still stay near you and fidget nervously because he doesn’t like not knowing what to do) 

⟢ JAY

the most supportive™︎, like you just know he's always there for you whenever you need him

wants to feel needed; he just wants to know that he's taking care of you well, i imagine him constantly checking up on you and asking if you’ve eaten or drank water etc

more of a quiet lover; his love language speaks through actions more than words 

loveslovesloves dinner dates, likes to see the both of you dressed nice and looking good and loves to take pics of you eating good food

i dont see him doing matching couple outfits but he Does do coordinated couple outfits; his tie is gonna match the color of your dress, matches his accessories to yours 

i dont think he frequently uses pet names but he says your name so gently, your name is a term of endearment in itself 

loves to buy you things!! especially stuff you can wear or use everyday. he spends so much money on you and wont bat an eyelash abt it

likes to take pics of you, has an entire album on his phone full of pics of you and keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet 🙂‍↕️

you Never have to ask to wear his things, he literally doesn’t care. he won’t even ask for them back, he wants you to keep it. you asked one time to wear a hoodie and he’s like “of course babe, whatever you want.” and then tells you you don’t need to ask ever

⟢ JAKE

he becomes head over heels so fast, just absolutely enamored 

he had a crush on you for soooo long, like all the other members were painfully aware of it way before he was and it lasted so long, u ended up realizing before he ever confessed

i think if he was a bit intimidated by you, you may have had to be the one to ask him out first

he loves going out just as much as he loves staying in but when you two do go out, he likes to be doing something fun 

also big on casual intimacy; wants to be holding you in some way at all times. he rests his head on you, has his pinky intertwined with yours, plays with your fingers while you're talking, keeps an arm around your waist or shoulders

wants to show you all the things he’s interested in; soon enough you start sharing interests just bc of how much he talks about them 

the most caring, is always willing to listen to you vent if you’ve had a rough day or celebrate with you if you’ve had a good day 

he will absolutely go on long-winded rants about some niche subject only he's well-knowledgeable in and you sit there listening to him with hearts in your eyes bc he gets so animated abt whatever it is (...even if you have no clue what he's talking about)

even after dating, he still acts like he has a crush on you; getting flustered when you call him baby, blushing when you catch him staring, etc

also loves to have pictures of you, any pic you’ve sent him is immediately saved in his camera roll and added to his collection; you’re probably his wallpaper on All his devices 

in a non idol au he would most definitely flood his insta story and feed with all the pics he takes of you

talks about you all. the. time. (save jayhoon atp) 

he swears he falls more in love with you every day. like if he looks at you for too long he starts having heart palpitations (real). every time he sees you smile he feels like he has a crush all over again and he can’t help but follow you around with hearts in his eyes.

⟢ SUNGHOON

takes his time; you two have probably established you like each other for some time now but he doesn’t want to rush into things

also wants something long term; has no patience for games lmao 

i think he’s cautious about his heart, he wants to fully know he’s ready before he dives into anything

once you do make it official, he brags about you to anyone who will listen any chance he gets 

so supportive and knows how to push you when you start to lose motivation, will always want the best and more for you 

wants you to confide in him, even about the little things; tell him what you did today or who got on your nerves at work he lives for it 

he is a listener; feels like he can never know enough about you so he’s constantly keeping you talking 

also likes when you show interest in him and his passions; he gets shy about it but underneath that he loves it

the pictures he takes of you are almost always you being silly or cute; you wear one of his hoodies for the first time and he cannot keep the smile off his face because he thinks you’re adorable 

power couple vibes; likes when people gawk at the two of you in public (he likes to show you off) 

is possessive but not in a “you're mine.” way….. like he thinks he's subtle about it and he's definitely not. he leaves his hoodies at your house in hopes you'll wear it one day or he keeps an extra jacket in the car for you in case you forget yours. and when the day comes and you complain about being cold he's like “you can wear my jacket… you know if you want to..” and of course you know he's been waiting for this but you think it's funny to see him try and play it cool. 

[cosmal]

Hi, could i make a request for Eddie Munson, an angst/comfort one where he cries the first time reader kisses him? Because he's never ever been loved like that, and he didn't realize how touch starved he was until the gesture overwhelmed him? 🥺❤️ Love your writing

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 — 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

thank you!!!

summary — eddies first date with you doesn't go how he'd planned and he hadn't even expected a kiss. still, you kiss him because you want to.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, touch starved!eddie, eddie's never been on a first date before

word count — 2.3k

In Eddie’s opinion, his first date with you goes to shit.

If he could sit here and say that he’s surprised, he would. But he’s not. He’s Eddie Munson, things don’t go to plan for him like they should.

He was a nervous wreck to begin with, how he’d even scored a date with you in the first place is beyond him. Though he can’t attribute much credit to himself anyways, you had asked him out.

Sitting in Steve Harrington’s backyard after a swim, you start to tell him about this new, fancy restaurant up behind the arcade. It’s just opened and,

“Would you want to go there sometime? I heard their pasta is delicious.”

He had to get you to repeat the question, his ears were full of water and he was sure he’d heard you wrong.

He psychs himself out for the better half of his afternoon, so not only is he late to pick you up, his old, dingy, stupid van breaks down before it can even make it out your drive. You tell him it’s okay, it’s a nice night, we should walk. Eddie tells you that he shouldn’t have you walking all the way into town in those shoes.

“What’s a few blisters if it means I get to spend more time with you?”

Your kindness does nothing for his thrumming heart.

Once you’re at the restaurant he forgets to open the door for you. You don’t seem to mind, of course, you don’t, but Eddie has a checklist of gentlemanly dues he feels he must achieve to impress you. It’s stupid, really stupid, but he’d be damned if he messed up such an amazing opportunity.

You sit and chat for a while, waiting for your meals, and the entire time he thinks you want to hold his hand. Your manicured hand keeps inching closer to his over the white tablecloth, knuckles almost brushing, and he’s too nervous about making the final move to tangle his fingers through yours.

Then you say something terribly, awfully kind to him. Something about his hair, how it looks really nice tonight. How you’ve always loved his hair.

Eddie spurts his soda out over his glass and gets it all down his white shirt. Yeah, his white shirt. Something he’d begged Harrington to let him wear.

“Please, man. I don’t have anything nice to wear tonight. I can’t exactly show up in my Judas Priest shirt that’s covered in bleach.”

“You could show up in a brown paper bag and she’d still think you were the hottest thing out.”

“It’s not that easy for me. I need to impress her.”

Eddie had wiped the soda from Steve’s shirt, feeling utterly stupid and you had laughed like it was the cutest thing you’d ever seen.

You’d laughed when he’d choked on his spaghetti. Smiled kindly when he offered you to try his food and you’d reminded him for the second time that night that you were allergic to tomatoes. To top it off, you’d pretended it was no big deal that he had accidentally left his wallet in his van and that you had no problems paying for dinner.

“Really, Eddie. It’s fine. Just get me back next time.”

The thought of a next time was enough to stop his racing thoughts for just a moment. Not for long though, because watching you pretend like your feet weren’t aching on the way home had Eddie cursing himself the entire walk.

How could he fuck up so badly and how could you be so calm and kind about it?

Now, standing at your front landing, he’s apologising profusely for how horrible he’s made your night.

“Horrible?” you question, eyebrows raised and skin glowing if it's entirely possible. The setting sun casts you amber.

“I don’t know,” Eddie stammers, “It didn’t go how I wanted it to.”

“It didn’t?” you question again. Your voice is pitched up and its melody has his brain spinning, “How were you expecting it to go?”

“I’d have expected not to forget my wallet. And maybe have a van that works,” Eddie can’t help but laugh at his stupidity. Especially when you’re making the same face you have been all night. A smile that looks like it could ruin him.

“I don’t know,” You reach forward and take the hem of his shirt in your fingers, playing with the thread. “I had a really good time.”

“You- you did?” Eddie stammers. Suddenly you’re really close, if it’s because he’s been too deep inside his own head he hasn’t noticed you inching closer, he’s not sure.

“Yeah,” you nod gleefully, hair bouncing.

“Yeah,” he echoes. More to set it in stone himself.

Eddie watches where your fingers play with his shirt, the closer they inch towards his skin, the louder he thinks his heart becomes in his ears.

There’s a silence that you hate, “Hey, Eds?”

Eddie’s breath hitches. You’ve never called him that before.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. Voice quieter than he’d like to admit. Any louder and he feels as if you’d step back from him.

He looks up and catches your gaze before you speak, “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie doesn’t know how to reply. He’s never even been asked such a question before so he can’t even pretend he’s got an answer somewhere in the back of his numb mind.

His heart thrums in his throat, feels as if it might escape, “You want to kiss me?”

You nod like it’s the most obvious thing ever. To you, it is, to Eddie it’s unimaginable.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

The moment your lips press into his, he freezes. Not in a bad sense, his mouth still moves. He still shows you how much he wants to kiss you with his tentative and loving lips. But he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flex at your side until you’re cradling his face in your own.

Your touch is warm, warmer than your lips and it almost burns. Burns so much that his eyes well with tears and he gasps into your opening mouth.

Your face suddenly feels wet and you can feel a sob making its way through Eddie's throat. You pull away, “Eddie? You okay?”

He slams his eyes shut to will away the tears, fisting at his hair when he pushes it behind his ears, “M’sorry,” he sniffles.

You reach up to cradle his face again, wiping hot tears away from his flushed cheeks, “Hey, it’s alright. I had a great night. Promise.”

He shakes his head, “No,” he swallows, “No, it’s not that. I’ve just. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

“Oh.”

Eddie feels stupid. That is until you say,

“Oh, Eddie. Hey, c’mere.”

Eddie lets himself fall too willingly into your arms. Has no problems this time when you wrap your arms around his back and pull him as close as possible. Close enough that his hair presses so hard into the skin of your neck that he expects it to be embossed.

He grasps at the back of your shirt a little too hard. Pressing his nose into the skin behind your ear, sniffling wetly.

“It’s okay,” you murmur into his head, “I had I really good night and I think,” you pause and let him rub his cheek into your shoulder, “I think I’ve wanted to kiss you for a really long time.”

He pulls back and you think he has the prettiest eyes. Despite them being glassy and the tiniest bloodshot. “Yeah?”

You lean in and peck him right above his top lip, overthe plush of his cupid's bow, "Yeah."

“You think you'll want to try it again sometime?"

You smile brightly, "I think I do. More than you think."

"Way more than I think."

[mooniiify]

what about tsukishima with a girlfriend who’s insecure about her glasses?

it starts off a little into their third year of high school. she keeps complaining that her eyes are burning during every study session, sometimes they even water up. and once tsukishima showed her something on his phone and y/n asked him to give her the phone because she couldn’t see, tsukishima pointed out she probably needed glasses.

she scoffed. “no, i don’t. the typing is just too small.”

“i see it perfectly fine with my glasses,” tsukishima pointed out. “when was the last time you got your eyes checked?”

silence fell between the two for a moment. y/n played with her thumbs. “. . . never?”

tsukishima sighed. “just go get them checked. you might not need them, but it’s better to know. otherwise you’re just straining your eyes.”

she waved him off, but decided to actually take his advice and book an appointment. tsukishima hadn’t heard about it, not until she called him on a tuesday two weeks later.

“i look so fucking ugly.” she cried dramatically on the other side of the phone.

tsukishima, who’d been sitting on his desk doing his homework at his house, put his pen down and furrowed his eyebrows. “what are you talking about?”

“you were right, my eyes are shit snd i got glasses but i hate them. i’m never wearing them.”

tsukishima scoffed as he leaned back in his chair. “they can’t be that bad. show me.”

“no. they’re ugly.”

“well, i can’t judge if i don’t see them.”

“you’ll never see them. i don’t need your judgement, too!”

tsukishima took his phone off his ear and tired to switch the call to a video call, which y/n immediately rejected. “don’t even try! i’m refusing to wear them.”

“i’m sure you look fine, dumbass,” tsukishima tried to reassure her. he touched his own glasses for a moment. “can you at least see better with them?”

“. . . yes, i can. the doctors said i should wear them all the time if possible so i don’t strain my eyes further, but i don’t want to.”

“you’re being dramatic, it really can’t be that bad.”

“dramatic?” y/n scoffed in the other side. “fuck off. i’m going to go and self-pity since my boyfriend won’t allow me to.”

before tsukishima could say anything the call ended. he sighed and got up, grabbing his wallet and keys on the way.

y/n, on the other hand, sat on her desk. a small mirror faced her as she held her brand new glasses — those ugly little things. she didn’t want to put them on, not again. those had looked good in the store but now they made her face look so odd; she hated it. she was never—

a knock. y/n stilled in her seat. “you in there?”

his voice. “how did you get here?”

“your mom let me in. can i come in?”

y/n sighed. “fine.”

she heard the door open, then close. she heard tsukishima’s footsteps approaching her, then saw from the corner of her eye as he placed a plastic bag on the desk, right next to her elbow.

“i got you something from the store.” tsukishima’s long finger pointed at the glasses still in y/n’s hand. “so that’s them?”

“yup.”

tsukishima took a moment, his eyes stuck on the glasses. “it’s just some average glasses. that you need to see.”

“yes, i’m aware. thank you.”

tsukishima sighed. “come on, put them on.”

“no.”

“you know, you’ll have to wear them eventually. if you don’t, you’ll strain your eyes more and your eye sight is gonna get worse and it’ll start to sting, and—“

“okay, okay! i get it,” y/n cut him off, grumbling as she opened the frames. “why do you always have to be so reasonable?”

normally, he would’ve teased her further, but seeing as she was finally feeling comfortable enough to put on her glasses, he didn’t want to ruin it for her. he was an asshole, but not that big.

the glasses were on and y/n stood up, looking at him. “there they are, ugly as hell. you happy?”

“do you see with them?”

y/n was taken aback. that wasn’t the response she was expecting. “huh? i mean, i guess so.”

“yeah? i see with my glasses, too.” tsukishima took a step closer. he didn’t touch her, keeping his hands on his hips. “and you know what i see with them? i see you, just as i’d see you every day, and you look as pretty as usual. if anything, in my eyes you look better, knowing your blind ass can finally see.”

y/n wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“why can’t you ever compliment me normally?”

“that’s not what you signed up for.”

still, his words stuck with her. he’d helped, in his weird, tsukishima-esque way.

[pricegouge]

Get Her a Dog (She'll be Happier For It)

Part One | master list | MDNI

Soap x reader, Price x reader, eventual PriceSoap x reader

series cw: cheating. dubcon. angst. cuckholding. pet play.

chapter cw: angst, pining for someone who isn't your husband

reader is fem and fat

You know where it's going. Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, get out of your house, scream and yell and pin everything on him - for always taking your husband away or for being an impossible standard to hold him to you don't even know.

It's raining in York again, the soft tatting upon the windows your only indication. It's evening, but you've still got the blinds pulled because you couldn't be arsed to draw them. In the apartment next door, a baby cries its head off and you sigh, turning up the volume on your b-movie romcom. It cries a lot.

You don't immediately reach for your phone when it buzzes against the coffee table because you can't think of any pressing reasons someone would be contacting you tonight, but it goes off twice more in as many minutes so you relent, unlocking it without really looking. Thumbing through to your messages, you find your husband's contact photo beaming back at you, top of the list. You pause, lip twitching slightly. Johnny's supposed to be halfway across the world, his phone inaccessible to him. It should be a good thing that he's texting you - returning from a mission early could go one of two ways, but if he was well enough to text then surely you should be excited for him. Except you're not, because you know what his message will read before you even open it.

Used to be, Johnny would stumble through the door after a deployment all battered and bruised, laughing when you yelped because you weren't expecting him - wandering the house in lazy day clothes because you thought he was supposed to be away another week. He always rushed home the second he could, never wasted enough time for so much as an 'I lived' text because he couldn't bear to be away from you one more unnecessary moment.

Used to be, you two missed each other when he was away.

>having the boys over for dinner

<you're back in town?

>got in yesterday yea

>can u make that pasta dish gaz likes? owe him my life

You sigh, torn between being more annoyed by Johnny's presumption, the fact he hadn't even let you know he was alive let alone at base, and the fact that you know you should be worried after a comment like that.

Mostly, you're just too tired.

The pasta dish Kyle likes involves heavy cream which you don't currently have. There's a small shop just two streets up and you'd hate to waste the gas so despite the weather, you grab an umbrella and some boots and head out, patting yourself down for the mandatory keys, wallet, phone check. It's dreary out. In addition to the rain, the season's coming to its long, slow end and bringing with it the cold sort of damp that soaks into everything, the whole world seemingly saturated with the miserable chill. Normally, this is your favorite kind of weather, but lately you've been too dreary yourself to properly enjoy it. So you amble along, unfocused. Unappreciative. Foggy. 

Identical brick houses line either side of the street, stretching out around the bends in either direction. The winding of the road lends a claustrophobic feel to the entire city, population density driving houses tall enough to obscure the movement of the sun throughout the day. 

It wasn't a bad place all told, but Johnny had chosen it for its proximity to base back when he was still just a young recruit and it had never really felt like your home. There'd been promises, back when the two of you were still engaged, ones you should've known better than to hold him to. Dreams of a house in the country, or talks of moving you out to Scotland. You hadn't been lying when you'd told him you didn't need any of that, but you'd never expected him to interpret that as you being content to live in the same dingy building the rest of your lives. It wasn't really your place to complain about it, though, given it was Johnny's income that paid the bills. You worked as well, though mostly just to keep yourself busy, as Johnny had insisted on your being a stay at home mom for the first few years of your babies' childhood. You weren't sure why you didn't find something more stimulating now, given how many years had come and gone without the man committing to the prospect of children. 

It used to hurt, the reneged aspirations. You've gotten used to it.

You're a regular at the shop by now, having lived in the same little apartment for the last five years. The owner greets you as you enter, the little bell above the door chiming as you close your umbrella, tapping it on the doorframe a few times to dislodge any excess droplets. 

"How are you now, Mr. Hudson?" you call, making a beeline for the kitchen staples. If there were still good things to be said about your marriage, at least you no longer cringed at convenience store pricing. 

"I'm well, yourself?" the old man croaks back politely. He's not doing well, actually, as his wife is wont to tell you anytime she's the one manning the counter, but you think it would be impolite to ask him how his prostate is out of the blue, so you don't call him on it.

Instead, you tell a lie all your own as you set your find in front of the register. "Can't complain."

"What's for dinner, then?" he asks, nodding at the carton.

"Smoked sausage alfredo." Not for the first time, you're grateful Gaz's favorite dish is consistent enough that you regularly have thawed sausage on hand. The last time Simon had saved your husband's skin in the field, Johnny had thought you'd be able to whip up a chicken dish in two hours and you'd had to run half across town for protein. 

"Mm," Mr. Hudon hums appreciatively. "Am I invited?"

"May as well be," you laugh, perhaps a little meanly given the poor man isn't in on the joke. You take mercy at his confused look. "My husband's inviting a few friends over. Wasn't expecting to cook for so many people." You weren't expecting to cook for anyone, actually, completely content to rot away with a bag of crisps but that's beside the point.

"Oh, yes… big man? With the… hair?"

"The very same," you grumble, taking your receipt.

"Haven't seen him in a while, how's he been?"

"Well, I gather he almost died recently, but I couldn't tell you much else. Haven't seen him either." The parting smile you give the old man feels rotten on your face. You bid him a good night and wave, scurrying out the door before he can properly respond. 

The sight of John standing on your stoop when you return startles you, although you should really be used to his early arrivals by now, as John tends not to linger in the company of his subordinates too long and often finds his own rides to and from base. He's also generally more eager to stop by than your husband is, though you can't think too long about that without feeling like you're going to walk off a pier. 

John greets you warmly as he always does, pulling you into a one armed hug as he kisses your cheek. With his free hand, he pulls your umbrella from your grasp, keeping you both under its protective circle as he straightens back up. 

You search your pockets for your keys, a good excuse to eye yourself over to be sure you hadn't accidentally worn something inappropriate out of the house. Like hosiery and a big graphic tee that said 'fuck me daddy' or something on it. John always brings out this paranoia in you, that same instinct that has people re-reading work emails to check for porn links four times before hitting send. But with him it's, 'Are you dressed? Is a dildo about to fall out of your shirt sleeve? Did you remember to put your wedding ring on?' 

You didn't.

"Hi John. Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn't realize anyone would be in so soon." 

"And here I thought I'd be the last to show for once," he counters, grabbing the cream from you and slipping it into the brown paper bag he carries on his hip. Something about his expression darkens minutely when he clarifies, "The boys left base a few hours ago. They still not in?"

Somehow, you don't find this as surprising as you maybe should. "No."

John hums, following after you obediently as you make your way to the lift. Normally, you try to get some exercise in by climbing the stairs, but you don't feel like huffing and puffing your way up with John in tow. Instead, the two of you pile into the small shaft where John does nothing to minimize the width of himself, standing directly by your side instead of slightly behind, squishing you between himself and the mirrored wall. You keep your eyes forward, glued to the metal doors. You can feel his eyes on you, shameless and assessing. Can even see his head turned toward you in the blurry reflection before you. He's always like this when he first gets home, as if he can ascertain how you've been spending the time without your husband's company just by staring a hole through your temple. 

Probably, he could.

John's an attentive man. Always has been. So it shouldn't surprise you when he huffs gently and pulls himself to his full height with an air of grim determination. He's gonna ask one of his questions again, you just know it - the kind that leaves you exposed, crawling back to your husband's familiar apathy with renewed appreciation. John draws a breath, you close your eyes, and then the lift dings, doors opening with a rush of air that rivals the relieved breath you take. You step out before John can motion you forward as is his custom, ducking through the door to prevent him saying a word.

Distraction comes with the general din of settling in. John tucks your umbrella away in the tiny entrance closet and brings his bag into the kitchen. You dip quietly back to your bedroom to make yourself more presentable, calling from the bedroom for him to make himself at home. It takes you no time at all to get ready, the casual dresses at the back of your closet all hanging clean and untouched. You check to make sure they've not gone musty before pulling one on and applying some basic makeup. Rotting on the couch hadn't called for mascara, but a houseful of men certainly did. 

You blink when you realize the implication of that, smudging the dark product all under your lower lashes. You only resist the urge to roll your eyes at yourself for fear of repeating the process under your brow.

John's in the kitchen when you emerge, sudsing up the dishes from your lunch to your horror. "John! You don't have to do that," you squawk, attempting to shoo him along with fluttering hands, as if he were an overgrown pigeon. 

Unflinching. "Of course I don't. Wanted to be helpful but I didn't know what you'd planned for dinner so I couldn't get started on that."

"You didn't have to do anything," you counter, still hoping that your defiant presence at his side would cow him away from the sink.

He just smiles at you, that overly cheeky one that crinkles his eyes charmingly. "Wanted to, love,"

Well, who are you to say no to that?

The two of you slip into companionable silence as you get to work, though you play it up when he completes his task, leaning his hip against the counter with that same intense expression from before. You're not ready for the question, whatever it is. Maybe never will be.

John seems to sense this, changing approach by making a show of unpacking his paper bag, setting the options he's brought for wine out in front of himself. He eyes the ingredients you've assembled carefully, and sets a white bottle aside for dinner before helping himself to the drawer where he knows you keep your corkscrew, popping open a bottle of red as he knows you prefer it. You collect glasses as he does so, watch him warily as he pours you a generous glass. Once he's served you both, he settles into  an island stool with an exaggerated air of relaxation.

When he starts, the question is blessedly easy, though you remain on high alert lest he pull some intelligence acquisition maneuver on you before you even see it coming. 

"Well, how's it been on the home front?"

You know where it's going. Part of you wants to tell him to fuck off, get out of your house, scream and yell and pin everything on him - for always taking your husband away or for being an impossible standard to hold him to you don't even know. Another part of you just wants to be seen. John's got his arms crossed in such a way to make him impossibly broad, imposing. There'd be no getting past him even if you wanted. 

The worst part is, you don't.

"All's well, John, thanks." A lie, despite knowing how you feel, how you want him to force you to talk, crack you open and pry your injuries from you with strong hands, get you back in working order. You both know it.

"You sure? Been looking a little blue of late." It's not judgemental. You remember the old tan line he used to sport on his finger - wide and pale on his weathered hand. It's long gone, a nicely healed wound. He doesn't even worry the space with his thumb anymore, a habit you'd picked up of late, as if the band itself burned. You wonder how long you'll try soothing it once the ring is gone and nearly bite through your tongue when you realize what you'd just thought.

A clatter at the door saves you from answering and you force a smile as you turn to greet Johnny. He roars through the door as is his custom, loud and singular and enigmatic enough to make you forget your qualms when he hoists you into his arms and peppers your face in kisses. "Oh, ah've missed ye, bonnie," he crows, only putting you down when Gaz insists it's his turn.

You're turned about between the two of them, a mess of 'missed you too's, and 'good to see you's, and 'come on in, can I get that for you?' Gaz kisses your cheek, tells you dinner smells lovely despite it barely being comprised of more than its base components yet and you grin at him, letting yourself be charmed through another boisterous night with the boys.

It's not until much later, as you're sending everyone packing with to go containers of extras and squeezing shoulders in parting that you notice your fingers gripped tight around John's bicep, finger conspicuously empty.

Next>>

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Bad moon rising II

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 2.9k

Poly!lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: I am gonna be 100% honest with all of yall, I have cried, yelled at myself, and threaten to throw my phone across the room. Because I had no idea how to get the reader and the boys to meet. So, this honestly will probably suck, but I have tried my hardest. Spent too many hours deleting and rewriting for this to be bad. So please enjoy if can

The board walk was unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. It was packed full of bustling people, everyone wanting to go through all the rides, shops and games that they had on display. 

Lights came from all around, aluminating your way through the crowd as you tried to decide what to do first on the boardwalk. Screams and laughter sounded from the rollar coaster ride, the bumps and spins tempted you, but you knew that you’d need to ease your way into everything. 

This would be the moment when you’d wish that Sam or Micheal had come with you, they would try to do everything at once. But, unfortunately, right as you three had arrived; the boys had caught wind of a concert, ditching you to go watch Timmy Cappello perform. 

Treacherous dicks. You called them, wishing that at least one of them would have stuck with you as you ventured where you’d be spending the remainder of your summer. 

You wiped your palms against the fabric of your shorts, the heat of the night air causing a faint sheen of sweat to coat your body. After you’d finished unpacking all the necessities from the car, you’d taken a quick shower and changed for a night out on the board walk.

And thankfully so, the gentle breeze against your bare legs cooled you down enough for you to actually enjoy the night out. 

Chimming bells suddenly grasped your attention, facing the noise, you saw a small shop that was isolated from the others. One of the stores windows was cracked, a piece of cardboard covered the inside to prevent the glass from falling out. 

It was a music shop. 

You remembered when your dad would take you as a kid, letting you pick out cassette tapes, and vinyl records for your room. The old record player would run all day from how many times you would listen to Elvis, Buck Owen’s, and The mamás & the papas. 

It was such a shame that you had to sell the record player and half of your vinyl collection to help out after the divorce. With such little money, you had to make sacrifices for your family. No matter how much you regretted it afterwards.

You glanced up at the sign above the door, a wooden guitar with the words Soundscape etched into the body, swayed against the gentle breeze.  A young couple walked out of the store, hand in hand, a paper bag with their purchase held tightly as they ambled away. 

Reaching into your pocket, you felt around for your wallet. The small leather bound material felt weighted as you pulled it out, the sudden urge to spend your money caused you to open the door of the shop. 

The bell rang above you, and a quick greeting sounded from the cashier. You politely greeted him back before wandering throughout the store. 

It was decently clean, a few stray cd’s littered the ground and a couple display posters were a bit too crooked. But, overall, it was perfect for you. 

You trailed your fingers over a couple of vinyls, picking up a few before putting them back in place. Not really looking for anything specific at the moment, you just tried to find something that would catch your eye. 

Stopping infront of the cassette tapes, you let yourself go through each row, the soft clicking as the cassettes bumped against each other drifted up towards your ears. That and the sound of Jeff Lynne’s voice singing Don’t bring me down, was the only noise that filtered throughout the store. 

Your finger graced an Elvis cassette, the image of him and his infamous guitar sat in the clear case. Picking up the tape, you flipped it over reading the listed songs that went with each side. It had a couple good ones; like Blue Suede Shoes, All Shook Up, Return To Sender, Burning Love and of course some others. 

It was his top greatest hits from each album. 

You tapped the plastic against your palm, debating if you should spend the money just to add to your Elvis collection. You actually had a lot of collections that you needed to complete, but, with this specific artist you only had small handful left to find. 

Kinda like Sam’s Batman comics that he’s been trying to find at every book store that you’d passed on the way down here. 

The bell suddenly rang once more, dragging your attention away from the shelf infront of you. A group of men walked in, each leather clad and mullet wearing. The smell of smoke drifted off of them, wafting through the store. It made you scrunch your nose in disgust. 

“Welcome to the SoundScape,” The Cashier told them, the rehearsed words falling easily out of his mouth. “If you need any help, please let me know.”

None of the guys acknowledged the worker, or, they did though they just didn’t pay him any mind. You watched as they each dispersed from one another, going to different displays around the store. Picking up random items before putting them back where they originally were. 

One of the guys walked down the same row you were on, his eyes trailing over the selection of cassettes. You returned your gaze back to your own tape, not wanting to be caught staring at the guy like a creep. 

Eyeing the rack infront of you, wondering if you should buy the Elvis tape or possibly another. If you’d had enough money on you. You kept your eye on a Boney M. cassette, the item practically calling your name. You reached forward fingers less than an inch away from the plastic when a sudden commotion caused you to freeze. 

BAM!

Your head instantly shot up, the sudden noise disturbing the once peaceful silence. It came from a guy in the leathered group, the small one with curly hair, he stood over a fallen display of cd’s. His hands held up in the air, a small smug grin tugging on his lips as he turned to the stores worker. 

“I’m sorry, man.” He told him, his apologie laced with sarcasm. “It just started falling.”

The cashier let out a deep sigh, his smile turning from genuine to forced as he eyed the scattered items. “It’s alright, accidents happen.”

You watched as the curly guy bent down and picked up the stand, purposely hitting the one right beside it as he did so. He let out another fake apology before the worker shooed him away, picking up everything himself before curly messed up the entire store. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the movement of the blond beside you shove something in his pocket. You turned you head slightly, to get a better view, and you watched as he took another cassette from the shelf and put it on the inside of his jacket. 

You glanced between him and the other three guys that he came in with, noticing that with the worker busy they were taking items off of their display and stuffing them deep into their clothes. Hell, the curly guy was trying to fit a whole vinyl record in the front of his shirt. A very prominent square outlined for everyone to see. 

It was a diversion, knocking over enough stuff for the counter guy to get pissed and pick everything up himself. It was clever, but still wrong. 

With your attention kept on the tapes infront of you, you opened your mouth. Voice low enough so that only the blonde next to you could hear. “You shouldn’t do that.”

The man glanced up at you, not at all ashamed of what he was doing. “What’s that?”

“You shouldn’t steal.”

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning his upper body against the shelf. “Oh, really?” He asked, voice drawing out into a tease. “Wanna tell me why I shouldn’t, babe?”

You gestured to the store around you, eyes meeting his. “Because, its wrong. And, just because you and your friends can’t see that, doesn’t mean that it’s right.”

“Well, me and my friends seem to think it pretty damn fun.” He told you, pushing off the shelf as he took a few small steps towards you. “So, your reasoning is pretty much useless in this case.”

The guy stood a mere foot away from you, his eyes trailing across your face. His smile growing ever so slightly as he took you in. “So, watcha gonna do about it?” He asked, voice soft and teasing as he held a tape infront of you. 

“Put it back.”

“Why? There is no fun in doing the right thing.” He waved the item in your face. “Is there, babe?”

You snatched the cassette from his grasp, eyes not once leaving his as you placed it randomly on the shelf. “Put ‘em all back.” You scolded, voice rising ever so slightly. “It’s shitty and disrespectful for the ones that try to make a living working in places like this.”

He glanced over the top rack, eyeing the worker with disinterest. “Yeah, but, it’s also disrespectful to have to work at a place like this.” He turned back to you. “So, if he gets fired then he’ll come and thank us.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate, wanting to tell him how much his point didn’t make since. When you notice how quiet the store had gotten, the music coming from the speakers and the worker picking up the cds were the only thing. Glancing around you couldn’t see the guys friends, all of them gone from where they originally were. 

“Yeah, Paul, put it back.” A voiced suddenly called from beside you, arm slinging itself across your shoulder. 

Peering beside you, you saw the curly haired guy, his eyes dancing between both you and Paul. You didn’t even hear him come up behind you, in fact you didn’t even know that he had moved from where he was across the store. 

You pushed off his arm, the feeling of his body pressed up against your own made your face heat up. Looking back at Paul, you noticed how his body seemed to get more ecstatic, smile forming into a friendly tease. “Oh, yeah? Why don’t you put up that vinyl of yours.” He tapped against the cardboard beneath the fabric. 

Curly swatted his hand away, pulling the vinyl from beneath his shirt and dropping it on the floor. You eyed the disc on the ground, annoyance seeping into your chest at the disregard of store. 

“Pick it up.” You told the smaller one, side stepping away from them both to give yourself some room. 

He tsked, eyes roaming your body up and down. “Well, aren’t you a bossy one.”

“I wouldn’t be bossy if you’d stop fucking-“

“Watch your mouth.” A different voice spoke up, stopping you from finishing your sentence. You glanced over at the voice, taking in his long overcoat and bleach blonde hair. “It’s not nice to treat strangers that way.”

You furrowed you eyebrows, “If your saying I’m being rude, than that’s really the last thing I care about right now.”

A few small snickers came from around you, causing you to look around at each men that surrounded you. The two blondes stood the closest to you, giving you just a foot of breathing room. Then there were the the bleach blonde and brunette. They stood the furthest from you, but their stares alone were enough to make you feel like they were everywhere at once. 

Your body felt like it was on fire underneath their gazes, that and your dignity slowly burning away as realized how much of a fool you must look like right now.  You quickly crouched down, picking up the vinyl and gently setting it on the shelf. Not really caring that it’s not where it belongs right now. 

Someone cleared their throat. You and the guys turned your attention towards the worker, who stood behind the counter with a wet rag. “We’re closing.” He told them, nodding toward the door with little patience. “If your gonna buy something, now is the time.”

You gave him a quick ‘ok’, forced smile gracing your features as you turned to face the men. You eyed them wearyingly, knowing that they could just easily walk out of here without doing at all what you’ve been asking. 

A soft chuckle came from the bleach blonde, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he placed a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “C’mon, Paul.” He said, turning to walk out of the store. “Put ‘em back, we got places to be.” 

You watched as he pulled out a cd, the front of the case covered in a band called Scorpion. He set it down on the shelf, his eyes not once leaving your own. “We’ll see you around.” He muttered, voice low and mesmerizing to hear as he spoke.

It was almost like a fly getting caught in honey. Alluring and sticky, but, it’s just a trap for the prey. 

You didn’t acknowledge his words, instead you just watched as he walked out, the others slowly trailing after him. The brunette hadn’t muttered a single word since entering the store, and apparently didn’t feel the need to as he stepped outside. 

Curly slowly wandered towards the door, turning swiftly to wave his fingers at you before disappearing behind the glass. A simple ‘Have a nice night’ spilling from his lips as he did so. Paul then turned to walked out, his arm resting across your shoulder slide off. Hand coming up to pinch your nose. “Yeah, we’ll be seeing ya around.” He told you, voice indicating that it wasn’t a suggestion, but more of a promise. 

Swatting his hand away from your face, you watched as he chuckled, walking away as he went to join his friends. Leaving you all alone in the isle, with nothing but your Elvis tape and flustered face. 

Engines revved outside as you walked up to the cashier, the sound of the fading bikes meeting your ears as you tossed the cassette on the counter. The worker rang you up, placed your item in a paper bag and thanked you for your purchase. You quietly wished him good night, before turning on your heal and walking outside. 

You were quickly met with the warm night air, the loud noises coming from the boardwalk surrounded you once more. You held on tightly to the paper bag, the cassette softly rattling inside as you quickly walked away from the Soundscape. 

You were still flustered from your interaction with the four boys. The feeling of their bodies pressed up against your own made the night heat all the more unbearable. What if I would have just left them alone? You thought, swerving through a group of people that waited patiently for the carousel. 

They still would have taken from the shop, and that guy would’ve probably lost his job from all the items missing. But, you wouldn’t have lost some of your dignity whilst doing so. 

A sigh left your lips, unoccupied hand going into your jacket pocket. Though instead of the feeling of the scratchy fabric, your fingers graced against a peice of cold plastic. You stopped walking, standing by your lonesome in the middle of the boardwalk as you pulled out whatever rested in your pocket. 

It was a Scorpion cd. The same one that you saw the bleach blonde pull from his coat. You hadn’t even felt him slip the item in your pocket, was it when you were getting on to him or when he was leaving? Was he even the one that slipped it in?

Stupid prick, you thought. Stuffing the disk into the paper bag with your Elvis one, there was no sense in returning it now. The shop was already closing up and how would you even explain that to the poor worker. 

You shook your head, the events of the night tiring you out. 

From a distance you could see both Sam and Micheal standing in the middle of the boardwalk, their attention caught on a girl and little boy. You made your way over to your brothers, the paper bag swaying in your hand as your feet picked up. 

Sam greeted you when you came near, his long over coat brushing against his shoes. “He’s been following her since the concert.” He told you, gesturing with his hand towards the pretty girl. 

“Mmh, hey, peeping Tom.” You tugged on Micheal sleeve, trying to pull him away. “I’m ready to go home.”

He didn’t acknowledge you, his eyes staring longingly at the back of the girls head. You pulled once more at his arm, barely getting him to move when the sudden loud noise of multiple vehicles rushed on the boardwalk. Glancing towards the disturbance, you watched as four familiar bodies stopped infront of the girl and boy. 

They each revved their engines, purposely scaring away anyone that too close. You watched as the little boy made his way over to one of the motorcycles, the brunette pulling him up to sit behind him. 

The girl placed her arm across the bleach blondes chest, hosting herself onto the back of the motorcycle. “C’mon, man, she played you.” Sam told his brother, pulling him away from his rooted spot on the deck. You stayed put for a second, slowly trailing after your brothers as the engines of the bikes faded from earshot. 

Your mind going to when exactly you’d be seeing them again. 

A/a/n: Like I said, this took so long to figure out how exactly the reader and the boys would meet each other. So, I honestly would understand if y'all don’t like this, but, trust me the other chapters are going to be a whole lot better.

[lovexjoe]

PENPALS Part 4

warning: smutty smut SMUT

Armando hearing you beg was enough to throw the self control out the window. The two of you helped in washing each other. He took a little longer cleaning you, as he massaged the body wash into your skin. He teased your folds with his fingers and you couldn’t wait to be in bed with him already. You felt like a little princess when he wrapped you up in your towel and carried you to bed. As soon as your head hit that pillow, Armando was between your legs. He lifts your left leg onto his shoulder. Kissing, licking and sucking his way up your leg from your ankle. He repeated the same with your right leg and you didn’t think you could be so sensitive from something so simple. Your clit was throbbing and you already felt so wet.

Kissing and sucking on your inner thigh, his lips placed little kisses on your folds and you couldn’t help the little sounds that you were making. He tasted your wetness already and you had his tip leaking. He had time with you tonight so he was gonna make sure to put you first. To show you how much he appreciates and loves you. He held your legs apart as he starts to lick and suck your clit. Your hand shot up to your mouth so you can compress your moans. Armando works two fingers inside you and you swore you were gonna lose it.

“Baby you’re so tight, fuck” He spits on your pussy just to spread it with his fingers and start to pump his fingers inside you.

“Baby!” You cried as you reach your first orgasm.

“Dejate llevar mami” (let go for me)

Oh the Spanish just made you wetter.

“I need you, I need to feel you please” You pulled him, kissing him. You felt his tip teasing your entrance and he slowly starts thrust.

“A-Armando stop teasing” He was only thrusting the tip in, you were aching for more. You placed both of your legs onto his shoulder and he lets out a little chuckle as he sucks a hickey onto your neck. Such a needy girl for him and loved it.

He thrusts all the way in, your warmth and wetness driving him to insanity. He’ll do his best to make sure you cum again, but he knew he wasn’t going to last long. You were made for him.

“S-shit mami, you feel so fucking good” he moans out for you.

“Fuckkkk!” You cry out as his pace gets deeper and faster

“Shhhhh princesa. We can’t wake the house up. Just take it for me.” He whispers in your ear, grunting against your neck to not wake the house up.

“I-I c-can’t it’s too big fuck fuck -“

“Shhhh be good for me and take it” he covers your mouth with his hand and your pussy starts to clench him. His pace becomes deliciously rough, the thrusts were deeper and harder. Your eyes filled with tears cause you never felt pleasure to this extent.

He removes his hand

“Cum inside me…” you look up at him and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

You both hold onto each other as you share the same orgasm. Armando filling you up to the brim and you couldn’t complain one bit. It was everything you wanted. You’ve touched yourself countless of times thinking of him, but nothing beats this.

His touch, his scent, and his love.

He collapse into your chest as you both come down, you played with his hair. It felt like a dream. A dream you both didn’t want to come to an end. Armando felt happiness for the first time in his life and he didn’t want to let it go. He’s done some bad things but he will spend the rest of his fucking life redeeming himself if it meant he could be with you.

“Armando?”

“Si mami?”

“I love you…”

“Te amo con toda mi alma” (I love you with all my soul)

You two drifted off into a peaceful sleep, holding each other all night.

The sun was peaking through the blinds, Marcus headed to the laundry room to see if he left his wallet in his jeans. He wanted to buy everyone breakfast. He was shuffling through the clothes when Armando’s Polaroids fell on the floor.

“Ahh shit” Marcus picked up the first one seeing it was a naughty lingerie pic but he didn’t see the face since it was cut off.

“Goddamn Mando I didn’t know you had it like that nephew.” He picked up the rest and noticed who the fuck it really was.

“OH. OH MY GOD. MY BABY. THIS MOTHERFUCKER. HELL NO. MIKE !!!!!”

Armando is DEAD

Taglist: @yeahnohoneybye @cardi-bre91 @onlysarang @romanreignsluver1 @minwn

@armandosbabymama @dyttomori @bbyplutosblog @vergilnelosparda @believeinthefireflies95 @ebsmind

@hopetookourvibe @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @poppetbaby02 @bitchyglittersuit @marley1773

@jacobscipioswoman @sunrisesfromthewest

@midnightheat

[thegnomelord]

Nobody can convince me otherwise that Price wouldn't cry if he was proposed to/proposing

He gives off similar vibes to my dad and he cried at his wedding cause he was so happy

Okay, 1) Ur dad sounds super sweet lol. 2) Price so would and have a surprise ficlet.

Would you?

CW: SFW, Price X GN reader fluff, proposals, crying

The thought of marriage strikes him as you two lay in bed one night. It's not a particularly special night; he's not fresh from the battlefield or hardening his heart to go back to it. It's just a regular Tuesday night — your arms around him, your legs a tangle of limbs in the sheets, your head resting over his chest so you can be lulled to sleep by the sound of his heart — when he thinks. . . Wouldn't it be nice to be buried under your name?

That maybe, just maybe, he'll have you to keep him from a pauper's grave. That your and his bones will be able to mix when time erodes flesh, wood, and earth between you two. That the only thing that will remain will be those gold rings.

He starts planning that morning, approaching the proposal like he would a suicide mission; he calculates every variable, scours his brilliantly sharp mind for every little detail he's catalogued about you, making plans upon plans for how it could go both wrong and right. Writing sessions of what he wants to say to you stretch long into sleepless nights, he cracks open that old dusty book of family recipes and scribbles little exclamation marks next to the dishes you enjoy, secretly taking your ring measurement so he can confidently go ring shopping.

His wallet is fat from his work, yet he picks up side jobs in the private security sector on his off time — He's happy to babysit overgrown brats if it means he can buy you a ring without blood money. He wants this to be something pure and free of the violence shrouding his life. He doesn't do it often, but some times he fantasizes of what will come next; he'd hate to wear a stuffy suit like he does his military blues to those posh military dinners, but for you, it wouldn't feel like a labour nor a penance. He's sure it wouldn't take much for Kate to get her officient license, and whenever he starts thinking of that Price finds himself smiling like a loon at the thought of you on your wedding day, bright eyed and with a big smile with his ring on your finger.

A simple question — what if you refuse? — always brings him back down to the ground and drags his heart to the pit of his stomach. He tries not to think about it (he thinks too much about it, the bloody fool)

He decides to propose on your anniversary.

He wakes up long before you, having barely slept a wink the night before with last minute thoughts running through his head. Breakfast is ready for you by the time you stumble out of bed, his beard scratching your chin as he gives you a goodbye kiss before you set out to work. He spends the rest of the day making sure the house is spotless, getting you flowers, picking out the nicest clothes you two have and then goes to make dinner.

And of course, the things out of his control go wrong on the one day he needs it to be perfect. He only notices the oven is busted when the roast he's making in it starts smoking enough to set off the fire alarm. He scrambles to salvage it but it's too late and he's left scurrying around the kitchen trying to figure out something else.

Price doesn't notice when you get home, the locking of the door and your tired footsteps betting lost in the sound of clattering pots and pans. He nearly tosses the pan he's holding when you sneak up and wrap your arms around him, pulling him back from the roaring fire of the stove to press your chest to his back.

You rest your head on his shoulder, lips brushing his neck. "Relax," You say, both an admonishment and a suggestion.

"Bloody git". Price grumbles to himself under his breath but relaxes into you, nuzzling his head against yours. "M' sorry love, the bloody oven broke and-" he clams up just as he's starting to explain, already rethinking the proposal as a whole because Christ, how can he be a good husband when he can't even make you dinner properly?

"Hey," You begin and kiss his temple, rubbing soothing circles into his side. "How about we dress up and I'll order take out huh?" You say, letting go of him and taking charge by calling both of your favourite takeout place before he even has a chance to refuse.

Price knows this proposal is dead in the water. He's seen far too many proposal videos on that TokTik app — the ones with extravagant locations and massive diamond rings gifted to the brides to be via doves — to know such a simple proposal would fly.

But he still goes along with your plan; At the very least he can enjoy the sight of you done up in nice clothes, in the knowledge you do it for him. And he's sure you love how he looks in his suit too, his beard can't hide how pink his cheeks get when you call him dashing or handsome as you fix his tie. He gets you back though, cupping your cheek when you're done with his tie so he can pull you in for a long and slow kiss. He wants to press further, proposal plans already at the back of his mind, but he's interrupted by the delivery guy. He's especially not pleased when you stick your tongue out at him like a child and scamper away to get your takeout.

After plating the food, you sit down to eat, and Price remembers to light the special candles he'd bought. The food is good even if it's not what he'd wanted, but it's easy to forget about this shortcoming of his when you're laughing and telling him about some thing that happened to you today. He listens intently, remembering why he loves you when you speak so passionately about your hobby.

Price decides this is it.

He had a speech prepared, written and rewritten a dozen times until it was perfect, the one he'd practiced all day until his throat was raw. But the words dissapear like a mirage in his mind, and even if he did remember them, it would feel too out of place. So he simply stands up, cutting your talk short. His back aches as he gets to one knee, hands shaking a bit and fumbling with the box before he presents the golden ring to you. "Do you. . ." He hesitates, takes a deep breath, "Do you want to spend the rest of our lives together?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the ring, staring, bewildered. The pit in his stomach grows with every passing second, only to swallow up his heart when you open your mouth and say "Are you serious?"

This is it, Price thinks, he's mistaken what you two had together for something it was not. He's already thinking of ways to backtrack, fat tears building at the corners of his eyes that he desperately tries to blink away.

He's caught unaware when you kneel down in front of him. There's a sheepish look on your face as you bring out your own little box. Inside is a simple golden ring, your and his initials carved into it.

You give him a wry little smile, "Surprise."

Price stares at the ring. A second passes. Then another. A third one is well on it's way before his mind finally realises what this is and a childish laugh bubbles from his chest. "You-" He reaches out and pulls you into a bear hug. "-bloody Muppet almost made my heart give out." He grouches but absolutely melts into your body as you return the hug. You feel his mighty shoulders shake and chest rumble as his laughter gets out of control, pulling you into laughing with him.

He buries his face into your neck, trying to say something but his hiccups turn the words into meaningless happy noise. He doesn't even notice when he starts to cry, but it's a good type of crying — the one where you just don't know how to express the light airy feeling gripping your chest. Price feels like his ribcage is stuffed with dandelion fluff, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

"I love you." He says into your skin, low and quiet, voice still raw as he nuzzles his beard into your neck. His hands grip you tightly, afraid to let go.

"I love you too." You say, kissing him with nothing but love and care and tenderness in your actions.

Price is running high on the buzz of getting engaged when you two settle on the couch, back in comfortable pyjamas and wrapped up in blankets and each others arms, your takeout on the table as you settle to watch a movie. Your hand finds his, two golden rings clicking together beneath the sheets, and Price feels fresh tears roll down his cheeks before you kiss them away.

Being buried under your name would be nice, but living under your name is much better.

[ghostssweetgirl]

I’ve always headcannoned ghost as not wearing his mask when he’s off duty. Idk I just think that he whould want to separate the two, maybe trying to find his identity as Simon back.

Love your storys btw there so *chefs kiss*

Can we get some married headcannons with our beloved ghosty. ❤️❤️❤️

I like to imagine that, too. Or at least that he doesn't wear his mask in the safety of his own home, he probably stays masked out in public (if he's ever in public). And thank you 🥺 I'm so grateful you enjoy my stories!

--

Ghost as a Husband Headcanons

At first, he was scared of marriage. Didn't want to risk anything happening to you, God forbid an enemy got intel of your name and location. He'd walk through the gates of Hell himself if you got hurt.

But, he knew from the moment your relationship started that he did want to marry you- you were the one, and he just knew it.

He's a big softie, you get princess treatment FORREAL. He doesn't let you carry anything heavy AT ALL, even if you are fully capable of doing it. And if he catches you carrying anything too heavy, he's scolding you (playfully).

If you're on a walk and come across a puddle, he's carrying you bridal style over it, no if's, and's, or but's about it.

He carries all of your bags around for you when you're out and about shopping.

And dammit, he will walk around almost every store with you. Even when he's sighing from exhaustion, nothing compares to the smile on your face when you're getting what you wanted.

Dreads going on deployment. Hates knowing you'll be alone even though he's taught you everything you needed to know about self defense. You know where all the guns, knives, and everything you can use as a weapon are in your shared house.

Loves, loves, loves coming back to you. Back home to your home cooked meals and tender environment, a safe place. A safe place to separate Ghost and Simon. Unmasked, and himself around you.

When he's on deployment, he stays up late at night thinking about you. Looking at pictures he has saved of you in his wallet, rubbing over it, cherishing what he gets to return home to. Sometimes Soap barges in his room while he's hunched over the side of the bed staring at the picture. Soap definitely playfully teases him about it.

If he returns home in the middle of the night when you're asleep, he doesn't want to wake you, or try to. He likes to watch you, your perfect face in such an innocent state, peaceful. He'll rub your cheek, soothingly rub your back until your eyes flutter awake.

Oh, how he just loves watching you groggily recognize him, you jump up no matter how tired you are, into his arms, squeezing him so hard. It just feels nice to know that he was missed.

You always cook him a big breakfast the morning after. He'll come up behind you, placing sweet kisses at the back of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist. He shuffles his huge body with you as you move around, causing you to giggle.

"Simon! I can't cook that well with you up on me like that!" you laughed.

"I just missed you s'much, luv," he kissed the back of your head. "Need to be up on you."

And even though he refuses to talk about his missions, his work, you didn't need to know that, he didn't want your perfect little head to worry about it, he loved to hear you ramble about what you did to the house, the garden, things you did with your friends, etc.

Almost cries when you bring out the gifts you got him while he was away, surprised that someone loves him enough to think about him like this.

--

A/N - I swear here lately I'm half asleep working on requests lol, I hope you enjoy these <3

[ggumjjun]

Yeonjun and creampies are the best combo ever 💓

# yeonjun + creampies (2)

eheh i agree~~

(minors dni + nsfw, creampies, first time raw, uhhh like yeonjun being cocky)

fuck,,, yeonjun smirks, a foxy grin crossing his sharp features at the wet, lewd sound of his thrusts, his gaze burning into your skin as you whimper and cover your face, heat flushing beneath your skin at such a shameful sight. legs pushed into a mating press, numb and sore with exhaustion,,, yeonjun’s unmatched drive the moment you shyly asked him to raw you,,,

i-it’s okay, you mumble, spread over the couch, panties soaked clear and visibly so, yeonjun’s fingers pushing into the thin fabric as he frowns at his condom empty wallet. fuck, could’ve sworn i had one, he groans, running a hand through his hair, bulge prominent in his sweats, i’ll— i- still… want to, you whisper, unable to meet his gaze as you hug a pillow tighter,,, as if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to be so wet and begging for his cock at the same time. want to how? yeonjun’s lips curling into a smirk, leaning over your vulnerable, exposed body as his hand traps you beneath him, using the other to pull the pillow away from your face. y-you can p-put it in, you shyly mumble. eyes on me, princess,,, yeonjun grins, feeling his cock twitch at your pretty words, tell me what you want. w-want you raw! you gasp, tears welling in your eyes with the embarrassment, feeling his heated gaze bore into your eyes as he groans with lust at your desperation, god, princess, so fucking hot when you say it, his hand swiftly unbuckling his belt, i’ll make you beg for my cum.

so shy, he grins, giving a hard thrust, could’ve asked me to fuck you full so much earlier, princess. and it’s so much more than you could’ve ever thought, the sensation of his hot cum filling you full inside,,, seeping out from your swollen folds as yeonjun fucks his seed inside, a creamy mess of his cum all over your pussy, a pretty white ring around the base of his cock. j-jjun, ‘m so full, you whimper, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust, unable to think of anything but the sensation of his veiny shaft and the full feeling he’s given you, heat coursing through your veins as a sob builds,,, because you know he’ll always make you ask so cutely.

words, doll, yeonjun smirks, beg for it. p-please, w-want y-your cum! you mewl, words muffled by your hands as tears spill down your cheeks, embarrassed by your ruined state, orgasm moments from bursting,,, good girl, his voice laced with lust,,, and a rush of his hot cum creaming your pussy as you sob and tremble, orgasm crashing down as your cute cunt milks his cock of his seed, clenching down on his cock as he fucks you through your highs,,, a cute sound of your wails and cries as pleasure and warmth fills you up,,,

hands down, princess, yeonjun pants, his chest heaving with exertion, grip around your wrist as he tugs your hands away to reveal the lewd sight,,, your pussy coated in his creamy white, the sensation of warmth seeping out as he pulls out in a mess of cum and arousal over his couch, cock drenched in your mixed release,,, your pretty thighs stained in ropes of cum, folds clenching around the cold air at the loss of fullness… fuck,,, ‘m never going back

[usernameforaboredcat]

Impressive (Monster Trio)

You’re always so nice and a little of a push over, being considered a member of the scared trio. You know, being scared and hiding away when there’s a big bad with Nami, Chopper and Usopp. Until one day, you get tipped and defend your beloved boyfriend.

This is a request, enjoy sweets <3

~

~

Luffy

It was a nice quiet day on the sunny, Luffy, Usopp and yourself sitting on the edge of the Sunny while fishing. Nothing had bitten any of your lines all day, and your captain was getting irritated. “I’m hungry”. He cries, looking like he was about to die. “Just a little longer Lulu, I’m sure we’ll catch something soon”. You reassure him, sending him a small smile. “Before it disappears again”. Usopp mutters, directed at Luffy but he didn’t hear.

All of a sudden, Usopps line started to pull. “I got something!”. He says happily, starts in Luffys eyes. The pulling gets more aggressive, yourself and Luffy rushing behind him to help pull it up. You three pull something up, but it’s not just a big fish. “SEEEAAA KIIING!!!”. You and Usopp scream, getting eyed down by the monster and alerting the other crew mates, followed by Nami and Chopper screaming.

Before Luffy could react and punch the sea king, you jump up. He watches with wide eyes as you punch down on its head, the sea kings limp body slamming to the ocean. The crew rushes over and sees you standing on top of the sea king, using your arm to wipe away the sweat off your brow. “Luffy! I got lunch!”. You yell out to him.

He reaches out his arms and wraps around your waist, pulling you back up onto the ship crashing onto the grass of the Sunny. “THAT WAS SO COOL!”. He cheers, stars in his eyes. “Of course, I like taking care of you”. You tell him. He gives you a classic smile and chuckles at your sweet words. “You’re the best!”.

~

Sanji

It was one of the days that the Sunny was docked at an island, adventure for some and restocking and repairs for others. You joined your boyfriend do some shopping, having to restock quite a lot especially with the endless pit that is your captains stomach.

As you two walk you spot a nice little drink shop, selling iced fruity drinks. It is a hot day, and it would be nice to get something nice and sweet for you and Sanji. “Hey Sanji”. You call, getting your boyfriends attention. “Yes, (Y/n) my love?”. He responds. “I’m gonna go get something, I’ll be back in a minute. I’ll catch up”. You tell him. “Alright, stay safe”. He tells you. You’d thought to keep it surprise, especially since he’s over working himself and carrying up to 5 large crates on his own.

After getting yourself and Sanji nice iced drink, you spot Sanji. More importantly you see someone lingering close behind him, too close and clearly getting ready to mug him. As the man reaches the grab Sanjis wallet, without thinking you sprint forward and punch the man in the face. The commotion caused Sanji to stop in his tracks and turn around, seeing a man withering on the ground in pain while you stood still from when you punched.

You notice him looking, you turn to him and giggle nervously. “He was about to mug you”. You just blatantly stated. He almost dropped everything as he looked you with hearts in his eyes. “AwmyloveyouresoconsiderateIloveyousomuuuch!”. He coos. He then straightens himself. “By the way, what did you want to grab?”. He asks. You now realize that you weren’t holding the drinks anymore, looking behind you and seeing your drinks on the ground. “Nothing”.

~

Zoro

The day is hot, burning even. And worse your boyfriend had gotten you two lost in the middle of the woods on a foreign island. You desperately wanted to say something, but you knew that he was already stressed enough cause not only did he get himself lost he got you lost. As you two walk, he turns to look over at you over his shoulder as he continues to walk. “You doin okay?”. He asks you. “Yeah, I’m good”. You reassure, even if you felt like you where gonna pass out from heat and exhaustion.

He looks at you with a blank face. “Let’s take a break”. He states, walking over to a nearby tree and taking a seat under it. “Good idea”. You huff, falling down and laying on the ground. Zoro chuckles at your antics, his smile then dropping when he thinks more about the situation. So stressed that he started to doze off a bit.

“ZORO!”. His eyes snapped open, seeing you as your fist collided with the top of the head of a snake ten times you size. You let out a sigh of relief, seeing that he was okay. “What happened?”. He asks, still in a kind of shock at the sight in front of him. “This guy went to eat you, kinda acted on instinct when I saw”. You explain.

Weird, usually he’d be able to tell if a threat that big or any threat at that was coming at him. He smiles softly at you, getting up from his spot and placing a hand on your head. “Thanks for having my back”. He thanks, sending you a soft smile. You beam a bright smile up at him. “No problem!”.

[stevieschrodinger]

Eddie finds King fucking Steve Harrington crying in a bathroom. It's the last fucking thing he ever expects to see and he really, really wants to laugh about it. Really, he does.

But Steve's a perfect Omega in his perfect cheer leader get up and even with his face blotchy and red he looks fucking beautiful. And Eddie might think King Steve is a bitchy piece of work, and he might think that Steve almost definitely deserves whatever is happening to him...but Eddie's just a weak ass Alpha, and the whole bathroom reeks of distraught Omega, and Eddie finds himself saying, 'hey, man, are you like, okay-'

'Just fuck off!' Steve snarls back at him.

And, yeah.

Okay.

Eddie gets it.

Just as the door is swinging shut on him he hears Harrington shouting suddenly, 'wait! Munson! Hold on-'

So Eddie goes back in, 'yeah?'

And Steve has his wallet in his hand and is pulling out a wad of cash and is fixing to buy every pill Eddie has. Which, wierd enough to maybe clang a tiny alarm bell in Eddie's head but also, like, fuck it. This isn't his problem and Harrington's cash is as good as anyone's, 'you planning a party?'

'Sure,' Steve replies, pocketing the baggies somewhere in his cute as fuck cheer skirt, 'it'll be a rager.'

'Whatever man,' Eddie says as he leaves.

'Oh yeah,' Tommy fucking Hagan. Eddie hates him, but it's hard not to overhear, 'he cried he was so fucking desperate for it.' And all the jocks laugh.

Turns out there is a party tonight; Steves not here yet though, not as far as Eddie can see, at least. Not that he'd thought about it. Not that he was worried about the Omega, or anything. Just stupid instinct.

'It'll be the end of the cheerleading, that's for god damn sure, no Omega of mine will be walking around dressed like a slut.' And Eddie paused, deliberately stops to listen.

'Where is Harrington then, since he's so yours then?'. Some stupid moron pipes up.

'Piss off,' Hagan snaps back, 'doesn't matter where he is; that's my pup in him. He's not gonna have a choice, I'll have him bit by this time next week.'

It takes about four seconds for Eddie to put it together, and then he's running, pushing and shoving people out of the way to get out. He knows Exactly where Steve lives. He's been there to sell at a couple of parties and he probably breaks fifty speeding laws on the way over. The house is dark and no one answers and panic is truly clawing up Eddie's throat now.

He's imagining Steve dead on the floor somewhere, mouth frothing from the overdose.

He doesn't think twice about throwing himself over the back fence, Harrington had big fancy sliding doors out onto the back yard and if those are locked Eddie will just smash them-

Steve's sitting there. Just sitting there. He's got a beer and his feet are in the pool and Eddie can hear gentle splashing where he moves his feet around.

As Eddie gets closer he sees a little pile of baggies and...they all still have pills in them. Eddie's never been more relieved in his entire life.

Steve startles when he realises Eddie's there, must have been so in his own head he didn't even notice Eddie scramble over the fence.

'Hey, Steve, sorry, I just- I was- I got worried.'

Eddie crouches next to Steve, sweet Omega who smells so desolate; he hasn't even opened the beer.

'I, ah, heard Hagan, you know, he, uhm, anyway, got a little- thought I'd check on you, you know.'

Steve's voice is cool and emotionless when he answers, 'he telling everyone about my heat?'

Eddie nods, Steve snorts derisively, 'didn't even want him, just got caught out and he swore he'd use a rubber, lying fucking prick.'

'You don't have to do this, though -' Eddie starts to slide the little stack of pills away, but Steve gets him by the wrist.

'No take backs no refunds, right? That's what you tell people?'

'Well, yeah, but, I mean, I'll make an...an exception.'

'No thanks. Not like I got a lot of choices right now.'

'Steve...there...there's got to be something-'

Steve kicks a little, splashing the water. It's dark now, the stars are out, and he cranes his head back to look at them. 'I'm pupped. Without an Alpha I'll get separation sickness and all that shit. He's going to want to bite me, so my choice is let him, die to the sickness, or just do it now. And like fuck am I letting Hagan bite me, that's a fate worse than death.'

Eddie privately agrees, 'but what about, like, a different Alpha?'

Steve snorts a laugh, 'someone I know? Going against Hagan?'

And Steve is right, there's no one around who would do that; pretty much the whole school would turn on them at Tommy's whim. They'd be a social pariah; Tommy would do his best to make their life not worth living.

Fortunately Eddie knows an Alpha who is already in that position. 'What about me?'