#not that all the songs are bad per say but if I have to pick between a bunch of taylor swift songs one more time Im gonna fucking lose it

[chisatowo]

I need ppl to stop putting "choose a song on my playlist <3" questions in their playlists, I'm so tired of having to chose out of generic pop songs and generic white gay ppl music fucking begging y'all to get some taste-

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part VIII)

Pairing | Eddie x shy!reader Warnings | 18+ only. Do not interact if you are underage. Roleplay (PrincessxWannabe Usurper lmao), sexual fantasies (including rockstarxgroupie), Eddie says some weird possessive stuff but reader likes it, oral (M receiving), P in V sex, dom!Eddie, sexual guilt as per, there’s aftercare. Word Count | 10,400 A/N | Nobody ask me about the timeline of this story, either in the fic or how long it takes me to write it. Taglist Previous Chapter

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The air is stuffy, despite the growing chill outside. The last days of Summer are at least a week gone now, and with Autumn comes heated stores. An ABBA song is playing on the main floor, filtering through enough for you to make out the tune. It’s the sort of thing your Mom plays in the car all the time, your mind following the words even though you can’t quite hear them over the buzzing ceiling lights. 

I try to capture every minute, the feeling in it. Slipping through my fingers- 

The curtains pull back, the sound of metal over metal dragging you to full attention. May’s eyes are bright with excitement as she twirls, showing off how the strapless black dress fits around her waist and flares out at her hips. 

“It’s perfect, right?” She says, smoothing it down only to twirl and puff the skirt up again. “Ooh, let me see with the jacket.” 

You search through the bag at your feet for the cropped jacket she’d found earlier, then watch as she pulls it over her shoulders. She fluffs her hair and poses in the mirror at the end of the changing room hallway. “I mean it actually is perfect, right?”

“For sure, you can totally see who you are already.” 

“Right? And then I can just backcomb my hair a little. My Mom’s gonna lend me her scarf. God knows what earrings I’ll wear, but I can work it out. Definitely can’t get anything new after this,” she finishes, turning her head and pulling at the tag on her back to double check the price. She pulls a face before tucking it away gingerly.

“That bad?” 

“That bad. Even with 30% off.” May smooths her hands over the skirt again, turning once more to the mirror. Her smile lights up her pretty face. “But totally worth it.” 

Once the dress is folded and wrapped in tissue paper by the woman at the counter, paid for with what seems like every spare penny in May’s purse, attention moves to your costume. “Okay, Fairy God Mother,” May says, linking her arm with yours. “Game plan. Where do we need to go?”

“I think just the costume store. I have a blue dress I can use. But I’d like some wings and a wand. Maybe a tiara, if I can afford it.”

“Ugh, you’re gonna look so cute. Are you sure you don’t want to come to Tommy’s party?”

“The whole reason I’m dressing up is for Grace,” you reason, spotting the orange banner reading City of Fright, which appears in the same spot every year mid-September and vanishes November first. 

Gone are ABBA’s lilting tones, replaced with stock Halloween music, the occasional creepy laugh and thunder clap. The entire front of the store is complete costumes, wrapped up in plastic and hanging on metal rods, but once you reach the shelves at the back, you are surrounded by an array of vampire teeth, witches hats and face paints. 

“Eddie’s renting Theatre of Blood,” you tell her, not waiting for a reaction before launching into a prepared defence. “It sounds really good. It’s about an actor who takes revenge on his critics by murdering them like Shakespearian deaths - drowning in Malmsey wine, that kind of thing. He picked it cause, you know, he thought I’d like it.” 

“Okay, but she’ll be in bed by what? Eight?” May asks, wandering around the table of paraphernalia as you start thumbing through fairy wings piled next to fake blood bags, searching for the right blue. “You could come after.”

There’s a moment of silence, then she sighs softly. “Okay, I will say it’s kind of cute that he picked that. In a weird, not really that cute cause it’s a horror movie about gruesome murders, sort of way.” 

You stifle a grin, chancing a look at her over the table. “That sounded…almost like a compliment?”

“Almost,” she agrees, walking back round to your side. Then, before you can answer, she has seized a shiny silver plastic tiara and is reaching out to place it gently on your hair. “There. Fit for a Princess.”

You shake your head, laughing. “What about a Fairy Godmother?”

May hums, grabbing a set of the net and wire wings and pulling them over her arms. “I’m the fairy now!” She declares, raising her chin and going up on tiptoes to whirl around the racks, wings shaking behind her. “Here to make all your Halloween costume dreams come true!” 

Your heart warms, a giggle escaping as she peers curiously at the rubber masks and cat ears in character, mumbling about the strange habits of humans. 

“Oh please, fairy godmother! I need a wand if I’m going to look anything like the real thing!” 

“A wand, of course!” She cries dramatically. “No true fairy would be seen dead without their wand.” You watch her scurry on tip toe around until she comes to a display of wands of various colours, topped by stars and hearts, sequined tassels and glittery handles. She wiggles her fingers above them, picks out one with a simple silver star and travels back to you gracefully. You take it from her with a flourish. “There, and now your wings.” She helps you into your own pair, then turns and throws a graceful hand into the air. “Now, we fly!” 

You flit about after her, laughing at her with every pause she takes to frown disapprovingly at fake scars and rubber spiders. She stops in front of a Tinkerbell costume, pointing with a surprised smile at the model on the package. “Hey, I know her!”

You snort a laugh and it sets her off, all attempts to stifle your laughter only making it worse. Your giggles are only beginning to settle when you feel the sudden awareness of being watched tickle the back of your neck. 

“Uh, hi girls.” 

Your heart drops. Caroline stands, a hand over her mouth, barely covering the smirk. “You look like you’re having…fun.”

Suddenly, the clear elastic of the wings is too tight around your shoulders. You can feel the crooked angle of the tiara atop your head, close to slipping off entirely. The wand in your hand isn’t silver now, just chipped paint on plastic. 

Next to you, May is wrenching off her wings, laughing airily. “Just messing around,” she assures, folding them up and holding them with a tight fist at her hip. “You costume shopping?”

Caroline looks around at where you are. “I mean, obviously. Not for me, though, for Ethan,” she sighs. “You know boys, no interest in shopping.” She sets her stare on you, eyes scanning from the crooked tiara downwards. “Are you girls dressing up together?”

Your throat feels blocked, leaving you just to shake your head. May answers for you both. “No, no. Like I said, we’re just messing around. So we should probably put this stuff back.” She slides her wings into the space between some hanging masks before elbowing you into action. You’ve abandoned the tiara and wand and are in the process of sliding off the wings when she adds, coolly, “I’m actually going as Madonna.”

Caroline’s smirk falls, replaced at terrifying speed with a deep frown. “What? You can’t, I’m doing Madonna. I’ve got a veil and everything. Ethan’s going to be Sean Penn.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m going as her in Desperately Seeking Susan, so it’ll be, like, totally different.”

“But I don’t think there should be two Madonna’s,” Caroline continues, almost sounding sympathetic. She crosses her arms, shrugging. “You’ll just have to go as somebody else.”

“Oh,” May says, shoulders falling. “Um, right. I get what you mean.”

You’re not in the habit of arguing with Caroline. It’s been easier, historically, not to contradict her or answer back. But you can feel May deflating beside you, and it tumbles out. “But you won’t look similar or anything, they’re completely different costumes.”

“They’re not though.” She answers with finality. “They’re both Madonna, and the last thing we want is comparisons, right? People talking about who wears it better all night?”

May nods. “You’re right. Totally. I’ll think of something else. No worries.”

“But May, your dress! You can’t return it now, it was on sale!” 

“It’s fine,” May snaps before smiling close mouthed at Caroline. “I can find something else to wear, no issue.”

“You could be fairies together!” Caroline says. “I bet the guys at Tommy’s party would love that.”

“No, no, like I said, we were just messing around,” May says. “Not really my thing. And anyway, she’s not coming on Friday.”

“Oh no!” Caroline pushes her bottom lip out into a pout. “But I haven’t seen you outside of school in ages!”

“I’m babysitting,” you explain, clutching your removed wings in your fists. 

“Oh sure you are, not spending the night with your boyfriend. We hardly see you anymore, I feel like there must be so much detail we’ve all been missing out on. You’ll have to come on the next girls trip, right May? So we can hear all about you and…Eddie.”

Your heart pounds as May nods. “Yeah,” she answers. “Eddie can’t have all your time.”

“Perfect. Well, let me know what you end up doing, May! See you later, girls!”

She flounces away, and May hides her face in her hands. “I can’t believe she saw me doing that.” 

“It’s okay-”

“It’s not!” She says, throwing her hands up. Her eyes shine with frustrated tears. “It’s not okay! Not for me, anyway. It’s different for you, people already think you’re weird.” 

You blink at your friend. Then you look down at the speckled linoleum floor, watch the spots fuzz and blend into each other as the lump in your throat builds. Before five seconds have passed, her arms appear at your sides, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean that.”

But you know that she did. You know that’s exactly what she thinks. 

For the moment you have to think about what you say now, you imagine calling her out on this. Pushing her away and telling her that she doesn’t have to spend any more time with you, given you embarrass her so much. You’d buy your fairy wings and your crown, walk out with your head held high. 

Maybe she’d call after you, apologise again, say that losing you isn’t worth impressing Caroline or sitting at the cheerleader table.

But maybe any pain she’d feel at the prospect of your friendship ending would only bring out her anger. Maybe she’d swear to never speak to you again. 

If you were somebody else, someone who didn’t love May, maybe you’d take that risk. But you are you, and you’ve loved May since you were five. To you, the only thing worse than feeling hurt yourself is the thought of hurting her back.

So you shake your head at her shoulder, blink away tears and squeeze her tight in your arms. “It’s okay,” you whisper. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, pulling away from her collar that smells the way being seven smelled. You release her, and in turn her arms fall from you. “I get it, you’re just stressed.”

“I know! I don’t know what I’m going to do about my costume!” 

Your heart pangs. You swallow the lump in your throat that’s trying to rise back up. “Well, at least the dress is black,” you say, sniffing quick and quiet. You drag your hands over your eyes, clearing away the wetness clinging to your bottom lashes. Stop it, you think. Stop crying. “Let’s return the jacket, yeah? Then you’ll have money for a witch hat or something.” 

May nods slowly as she thinks it through. “Okay, yeah. Yeah, that works.” She gives you a relieved smile. “God, what would I do without you? Let’s go.”

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“Well, I didn’t think I wanted glasses because Katie has glasses,” Grace explains, holding her plastic pumpkin, now close to overflowing with candy, in both hands at her stomach. She looks at you with a look too knowing for a seven year old, then continues. “Katie is a tattle tale.”

“I see,” you nod. 

“But I want ones like Jessica’s!” She cries, arms extending with the weight of her treasure trove before she pulls it back up. “They go dark in the sun!”

“It’s not the same,” she whines. “And then when we went to the optom- uhm.”

“But you already have sunglasses,” you reason, picturing the little red plastic pair you’ve had to run back for when out on walks many times. Grace hefts the pumpkin again and you give in, lifting the bag from her grasp and burying your wand in with the candy. You soften when she grabs your hand with a deep sigh.

“The optometrist?”

“Yeah, when we went to see him, he said my eyes were perfect!”

“Well, that’s good.”

“No!” She yells, dramatically, pulling on your arm with her whole weight until you have to  heave yourself back up. You stifle a giggle at her distraught expression. “Because now I’ll never get glasses, and everybody has them.”

“Well, first of all, I’m sure not everybody has them,” you say, smiling down at her grumpy face. “And secondly, you shouldn’t just want something like glasses because other people have them, even if it was everybody else. You can’t just live your life just trying to be like everyone around you.”

“I know,” she mumbles. Then, catching your raised eyebrow, “I know!”

You round the corner to her street, and by the time you’re approaching her house, she’s moved comfortably on to the next topic of her candy eating schedule for the next three days. “Because Jessica saves all her Skittles for last,” Grace explains, her position now firmly against being anything like Jessica. “Which is stupid, because you should have the best candy first.”

“Mm? Why’s that?”

Grace looks at you with a frown. “Because the best comes first,” she tells you, with the tone of somebody kindly trying to hold in their frustration with an imbecile. 

“Of course, silly of me to ask. Hi, Mrs. Miller!”

Grace’s Mom was clearly waiting for you near the front door, already out and standing on the front steps as you walk up the front path. Grace holds her hands out to take her bucket back, launching forward when she’s got ahold of it. “Mom! Look at all my candy!”

“Whoa! There’s no way you’ll be able to eat all that!” Her Mom says, eyes comically wide. “Think you need someone to help you out, hm?”

Grace shrieks indignantly, running under her Mom’s arm inside and clambering up the stairs out of sight without a bye nor leave for you. 

“Everything went okay?” Her Mom asks, smiling when you give her your usual answer, all fine. “Will you be okay getting home? I can get her back down if you need a ride.”

“Oh, um,” you check either side of the street, feeling suddenly warmed inside at the sight of Eddie’s van parked at the end of the road. Now that you’re concentrating on it, you’re sure you can hear the music blasting behind glass. “No, it’s okay. That’s my boyfriend.”

“Ah, Eddie.” She smiles, then smacks her teeth as she, too, registers his music. “Maybe tell him to keep it down next time? I don’t mind but I already get monthly phone calls from Mrs O’Hara about the sound of the lawnmower.” 

“Oh, sorry. I’ll do that,” 

“Okay,” she says, calling after you as you start up a fast pace towards Eddie. “You have a good night!”

You pull your cardigan sleeves down over your hands to fight the chill as you move, smiling when you can properly make out Eddie sitting in the front seat. He had a special D&D night planned when he dropped you off at Grace’s earlier. While your costume sat folded in your bag all day, he’d gone to school dressed all in black, even his white Reeboks swapped out for a pair of knockoff doc martens he’d launched himself towards when he caught sight of them at the thrift store. They’d fit him just fine with three pairs of socks.

This morning, sitting in his van, he’d barely managed to control his excited twitches while you lined his eyes with a cheap black pencil from the drugstore. Your work is a little smudged now, but on him, it looks even better than before. Which makes sense, you think. Eddie doesn’t suit neat lines. 

“Hi Princess!” He calls, turning the music down enough that his excitement is just audible through the glass as you approach. 

“Not a Princess,” you remind him as you climb in, turning your back to shake your shoulders and display the blue net wings. “A Fairy God Mother.” You settle back into the seat, shivering away the chill that had gooseflesh rising over your body. Eddie rubs your arm over your cardigan, and you take the opportunity to grab his hand. As much as you want to warm your cold fingers, it’s mainly just to touch him. “How was the game?”

His grin turns sharp as he leans back in his chair, chin tilted up. “So fucking good. I have them right where I want them. I thought for a second Lucas had me worked out. He hesitated when they were getting to the caves, but then he just went along with it. I can’t wait till next week.” He lets go of your hand long enough to start up the van before returning his open palm to the space between you for you to take hold of him again. “How is Princess Grace?”

“Increasingly despotic. She executed like five of her toys before we went out trick or treating.” 

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs. “What for?” 

“Well, her not-so-wise Fairy God Mother,” you start, gesturing to yourself. “Made the mistake of telling her about royal food tasters? Now there’s a poisoning attempt every few days.” 

“Very active imagination, this girl. Violent, but active.”

“Mm, I think most girls play that way. When I was little- Well, me and May, we’d act like witches sometimes? And make potions out of mud and sticks and stuff. And talk about who we would curse.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks. “And which poor soul had earned this spite, pray tell?” 

“Did you ever have Mr Gilmour?”

“Oh, Gilmour, yeah, I fuckin' hated that guy!” Eddie yells. His eyebrows furrow. “I threw up during gym in seventh grade and the sadistic prick made me finish running a mile.” 

“Yeah, I forgot about that till now.” His brows stay taught for a second longer, then he shakes his head a little, tapping his fingers along your knuckles. “Too bad I didn’t have you around then, coulda cursed him for me a little earlier.”

“Oh, Eddie, that’s horrible.”

“I would have,” you promise. “But you were telling me about the game. Did you get Dustin with the, um, venom troll?”

“Not yet. We didn’t get as far as I’d have wanted before they had to go. I mean, what fourteen year old has a curfew? I didn’t, and I turned out alright. But I’ll get him next week. I can’t wait to see his face - that little punk thinks he’s so smart, but he is pre-dictable.”

Eddie continues describing the campaign, the traps he’s set for them that he’s sure they’ll run into, the whole drive to his place, excited and animated as he usually is on the rare occasion you get to see him after Hellfire, wound up from the events of the day. He only slows down when you’re settled on his couch. Sneakers left at the door, wings, tiara, and wand abandoned on the kitchen table, wrapped up in his arms as the opening titles of Theatre of Blood play. 

Eddie’s so warm, and unusually still when you sit with him like this. Being cuddled up to him puts you in mind of your aunt’s black cat. She spends the first couple hours of every visit pretending that she isn’t interested in being anywhere near you. Then, after letting her sniff your hand, rubbing gently between her ears, she darts up on your lap, her soft heat spreading through you. 

Eddie might not admit it, at least not verbally, but he likes being petted the same way. You’ve seen his eyes flutter when you play with his hair, heard the gentle sighs he lets out when you touch his cheek. Now, leaning into his chest, rubbing lazily at his torso, you can feel the way his body relaxes into the couch under your touch. It makes you smile at the TV even as Vincent Price swears revenge on all his critics.

You turn your head just a little, trying to be subtle as much as possible so you can look at him properly. Eddie’s eyes, which in sunlight can be bright as copper, are dark and focused in the electric light of the TV. The light freckles that dotted the tops of his cheeks and nose during Summer have faded from the cloudy days and early sunsets, leaving only his soft pale skin. His lips, as always, are soft looking and pink, still shiny from the last time his tongue peeked out, set in a near constant subtle pout. 

You sigh gently, and in turn breathe in the remnants of smoke and laundry detergent from his shirt, the fading spice of his drugstore aftershave.

“You know I picked this movie out special,” he says, only his eyes moving to fix you with a mockingly suspicious expression. “Vincent’s a master.”

You’re surprised to find you’re not ashamed at having been caught. “M’just looking at you.”

“Therein lies the problem, sweet thing. One minute you’re just looking. Next thing I know my head’s trapped between your thighs.” This time he leans in properly. “Wicked temptress.” He whispers it, his breath warming your face. 

You think he’ll kiss you then, but instead he relaxes back into the couch with a sigh. “M’just lucky you weren’t dressed up all day.” His hand tugs at the hem of your skirt, then spreads out just above your knee. “I wouldn’t have been able to think about anything else. It’s a miracle I even got the movie playing instead of trying to touch you.”

“I wouldn’t have minded,” you answer, trying not to sound too eager. 

“I bet,” he says, eyes shining. Then his face turns serious, palm coming to his heart. “But Eddie the Chivalrous would never touch a Princess without properly wooing her first.” His eyes scan over your face quickly. “I guess that means we need to finish the movie.”

He’s teasing you. He wants to push, see how much he can get you to say, if you’ll ask him outright to just touch you the way you want. Warring feelings compete to decide what you do next. Maybe months ago, when you first started dating Eddie, you would have pressed your thighs together and settled in to finish the film. A part of you still calls for that, screams that whatever you say won’t be right. 

You stare at Eddie now. His eyes still lined dark, the smirk he’s trying to hide. Your toes curl just looking at him, and the thought escapes naturally. “You don’t look like Eddie the Chivalrous, right now.” 

Eddie blinks slowly. His head tilts. “No? Who do I look like, then?” 

Now, something like shame creeps back in, and you wish you’d just settled down to watch the movie.

You haven’t ever put a name to it before. In your fantasies, the ones that appear unprompted when you’re alone in your bed and you haven’t been able to touch him in a couple days, Eddie’s always Eddie, but sometimes just a little different. 

Maybe Eddie the Chivalrous is the right name for how you first thought about him like that, calling you Princess as usual but meaning it. You thought about him as your knight and guard, sworn to protect you, breaking all the rules by laying you down and treating you gently, better than any lord or Prince you could be promised to.

Then you’d think about his laugh, the one that comes out when you moan a little loud, or lose your patience and try to direct his hands or his tongue to where you need him. The mocking gasp and teasing tone that often comes along with it, you want it bad, huh, Princess? You think about an Eddie who’s like that all the time, teasingly mean with you, dark and dangerous to everyone else, finding you alone in your soft bed, holding your hands above your head and- and-

People already think you’re weird.

You give in to the sudden hot shame, pressing your face to Eddie’s chest lest he read your expression so perfectly that he works it all out. You whisper into his shirt, more to yourself than him. “I’m so weird.” 

“Well, s’a good thing you’re with me then, mm?” He says, big hand moving to stroke the back of your neck. “Cause if you got a fantasy, like, something you think about when I’m not around. You know I won’t judge you for it, right?” 

“I know.” It comes out muffled against his shirt but it’s certain. It’s instinctual, now. You’re as sure that you don’t need to worry about Eddie judging you as you are that the sun will rise tomorrow morning. More and more, you find yourself talking to him the way you talk to yourself in your head. Easy and free, not waiting for the other shoe to drop. But this is different. “It’s just- It’s like-” You sigh, searching for the words that won’t come. 

He hums, still rubbing your neck. “Maybe I could- I mean, do you…wanna hear one ‘a mine?” You emerge from your hiding place, leaning back into his hand to gauge how serious he is. Eddie’s eyes crinkle at the sides at having coaxed you into looking at him again. “Yeah?”  

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” he echoes. Eddie searches his side for the remote first, pausing Vincent in the middle of another monologue. “Okay. Well, yeah, sometimes I think about- Wait no, gotta set the scene. I’ve just played maybe the best show of my life. Nothing too big,” he continues, giving you a serious look. “I’m not a sell out. We’re talking the smaller arenas, you know? Anyway, after, when I get backstage, feeling like hot shit, there’s this girl. Prettiest I’ve ever seen. And she’s wearing the band’s shirt.”

“And she’s a little shy. Can barely look me in the eye-” He catches you just as your gaze moves to his collar, pulling you back to staring, helpless, into his dark eyes. Eddie takes your hand from where it was playing with the hem of his shirt, weaving your fingers together. “She’s kinda fidgety, too.”

You swallow. “Me?”

“You, sweet thing. S’always you.” You bite the gum behind your bottom lip, holding back from grinning too much. You squirm a little under his gaze, waiting for him to speak again. “And you tell me you’ve been waiting for me,” Eddie says, voice smooth and quiet. “You tell me you’re my biggest fan. And you can’t quite say everything you wanna say, but it doesn’t matter, cause I’ve got you worked out. So I get real close,” he says, his face disappearing as his mouth moves towards your ear, “and I ask if you want me to touch you?”

“And I do,” you continue for him, shivering again at the little groan Eddie lets escape from his throat. 

“Mm hm, real bad.” His eyes reappear, scanning over each part of your face. “So bad you wanna earn it. Wanna show me I was right to pick you and not some other girl. You get on your knees for me.” Eddie licks his lips quick. “And I know you’re kinda inexperienced, but it’s good, the best I’ve ever had. You know why?” You shake your head, gaze darting between his eyes and his mouth. You watch his lips move around his words. “Cause you’re so fucking grateful for it.” 

“Mm. And when I decide you’ve earned it, I lay you back on a couch somewhere. A green room or a tour bus or something. And I show you you were right to wait for me.” You shiver. It’s a delicious thrill to picture Eddie that way, completely new to you, a total stranger, yet so sure of what he can take. “And after that?” He says, giving the back of your neck a squeeze. “I keep you.”

“Eddie.” You feel your heartbeat between your legs, wishing he would touch you there now, or even put you on your knees the way he wants so you could show him you’re as grateful for him here and now as you are in his fantasy. 

The fantasy fades when Eddie kisses you. With the press of his lips, the taste of Dr Pepper on his tongue, he’s your Eddie again, familiar and perfect. You’re still floating back to Earth when he pulls away. “Your turn.”

You flinch, crashing to the ground instead. “What?”

“You like Latin, right? It’s quid pro quo, sweetheart. I show you mine, you show me yours. Tit for tat. That was the deal.”

“It was implied.” Eddie answers breezily. Then, with his thumb rubbing gently at the back of your hand. “C’mon. Try? You liked mine, right?” You give a barely noticeable nod, but Eddie catches it. “Yeah. And I bet I’ll like yours.”

“There was no deal!”

“I can’t- I don’t have it all, like, thought out the way you do.”

“Well, I’m a storyteller by trade,” he says, pressing his free hand to his chest. “All my sex fantasies have lore. And we can build on yours, if it needs it.Alright. I’m not Eddie the Chivalrous right now. Who am I?” He tilts his chin to where you have started playing with his rings, twisting each round his fingers in turn. “Apart from Eddie the Stress Toy.”

“It’s not- You’re just-” You swallow, rubbing your thumb over the metal skull sitting where a wedding ring would go. “You’re just somebody…somebody I shouldn’t want.”

“Intriguing. And you are?” Your face flames. You mumble it, barely opening your lips, and Eddie squints. “Mm?”

You sigh. “Princess.”

“Always,” Eddie replies, ducking his head to make sure you see his face, reassuringly still smiling. “Okay. I can work with this. Maybe I'm…Eddie the Banished. I tried to take power for myself by force but I failed.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kisses the thin skin at your wrist. “And I’ve returned, because I realised I don’t need to win a battle. I just have to…take the Princess?”

You clench around nothing. “Yeah.”

“Fuck, yeah. C’mon, sweet thing.” 

Your gaze follows him as he stands. “You want- Right now?”

“Why not? We’re all dressed up. The time is now.” Eddie pauses his excitement when he registers the fact you’re still sitting. “If…if you want.”

“I do,” you breathe. “But I can’t, y’know, talk like you.” You just know Eddie already has some dialogue thought up, things he can say as the character he’s just come up with that will make you dizzy. “I’ll get stuck.”

“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” Eddie says, squatting down in front of you, hands spread out on your knees. “I don’t mind taking the lead. Besides, the Princess would be kinda nervous anyway, right? If you’re not supposed to want me. The outlaw, the traitor. You’ve been told about all the terrible things I’ve done, what I tried to do for power. Now you feel guilty about what you really want from me. And I’ve been thinking about you while I’ve been on the run, living rough- You know, this is good stuff,” he says, interrupting himself and looking round. “You got a pen? I should maybe write some of this down- No. After, sorry.” He gives you a sheepish grin, then leans in close. “Don’t think there’s much chance I’ll forget this, anyway.” 

He stands then, hand extended to you with wiggling fingers for you to take and let him guide you through to his room. Eddie hums when his door is closed, shutting out the world beyond the frame. “Shoulda done this at yours,” he says, sitting you down on the mattress. “In your pretty Princess bed.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you say breathlessly, meaning it entirely. All that matters is it’s him. He’s the only person you could do something like this with. 

“Okay, I need a little more. You shouldn’t want me, I’m…morally grey, let’s say. Chaotic neutral. Am I mean?”

“Kinda,” you answer. “You’re…selfish?”

“Selfish,” he repeats. 

“Just like, y’know. It’s like-” Eddie’s hands spread at the sides of your thighs, teasing the skin at the hem of your skirt. You want them everywhere. “You know I want you. That I’ll…do things for you. And you take advantage. ”

There’s a pause. “I think I’m following. Things somebody like you shouldn’t do?” You nod quickly, cheeks burning as you watch him work it out. “You wanna get your mouth on me, Princess?”

You fight the instinct to hide, the urge to look away, the voice telling you to deny everything, take it back. Instead, you start playing with the hem of his shirt again, soft cotton between your fingers.  

“Mm hm.”

“Shit. Okay. Anything-” His voice cracks a touch, and he clears his throat before he speaks again. “Anything else?”

“It’s not like- Even though you’re mean, you still- With me, you feel-” Now you do have to look away, staring at where your fingers are fiddling with the black fabric. He can read you too well, and you don’t want him to see exactly what you want from him. “You-”

You love me. 

“I feel…how I feel about you?” He suggests.

You bite the gum behind your lip to stop yourself asking exactly what that means. “Yeah.”

“Okay, good. Hard to pretend anything else.” Eddie leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, long enough that your whole body relaxes into it, your mind settling on Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. When he pulls away, it’s easy to answer his question. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

Eddie stands to full height, his shoulders back. He tilts his head, expression shifting. From your Eddie, with chestnut eyes and his perfect, dimpled smile, to a smirking man with a dark gaze excited to ruin you. 

“I’ve been looking for you, Princess,” he says, voice smooth and confident. A thrilled shiver runs up your spine. ��Knew I’d find you eventually, but I could only hope I’d find you like this. All alone.” He takes a step towards you. “Unprotected-”

“Eddie,” you whisper. 

Softness peaks through with raised eyebrows. “Good?” You nod quickly, and it disappears again as he slinks closer towards you. “I missed you, while I was away,” he tells you, soft and teasing. “Did you miss me?”

“I-” You swallow. You’re used to repeating back what Eddie says to you, in times like this, letting him guide you through everything he wants to hear from you. But you don’t want to just watch him do this for you. “No.”

Eddie blinks, surprised, then he puts on a mockingly hurt face, hand over his heart. “No? You wound me, Princess.” That same hand reaches for your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb strokes gently under your eye and you can’t help but lean into him. “Or you would, if I believed you.” He tilts your head up to see him properly, standing over you. “You think I didn’t see the way you’d look at me, before I left?”

Your fingers twitch to reach out and brush at the ends of his hair as it falls towards you, but you keep them at your sides on the bed, curling into the sheets. “You didn’t leave, you-”

“Left, banished, driven out; it all comes to the same end, mm?” His eyes scan your face, down your dress and back up. “That’s you and me, Princess. Here, alone together. You gonna pretend you never wanted that?”

His thumb, callused and warm, keeps rubbing over your cheek. “I can’t want it”

“No, you can,” he presses. Eddie, your Eddie, would sit with you now, squat in front of you to talk to you at the same level. Now, his grip on your jaw tightens just enough to remind you that he could stop you looking away if you tried. “Cause I’ve had time to think about it.”

“While you were hiding in the woods?”

“While I was regrouping,” he corrects. “I realised something. I went about it all wrong.” he tells you. “It was foolish of me to try and use force to get what I want. Not when you were right here. Waiting for me.”

His thumb pulls at your bottom lip, then presses inside to the tip of your tongue. 

“If I make you mine, everything else follows. That’s right, isn’t it?” He nods slowly until you copy him. “The throne, power, vengeance on everyone who tried to hold me back. And you, in my bed every night. All day if I wanted.” He pulls at your lip again as he steals his thumb back, leaning in until his breath is warm against your cheeks. “That sounds nice. Doesn't it, Princess?” You glance at his lips, wanting him to kiss you now, to take it from you. Eddie shakes his head, drawing your gaze back to his. “I wanna hear you say it. You wanted me to touch you, just like this, and more, didn’t you? Wanted me to show you how to make me happy?”

You can feel your heartbeat heavy in your chest, your breath coming quicker. Only Eddie could do this, have you convinced of a story which before tonight only existed half formed in the fantasies of your bedroom. You can feel the internal conflict as if it really is your duty to say no, and your heart’s only desire to give your next answer.

“Yes, Eddie.”

He gives you a kiss that’s half teeth, dragging at your bottom lip. Even this is different. You’re used to the gentle start, feeling him smile on your mouth. He breathes deep through his nose, pulls from you so suddenly that you make to follow him until he presses a hand to your shoulder. 

“And I will. Get on the floor.” Eddie steps back, and it doesn’t even occur to argue with him now. You slide off the mattress easily, knees falling to the carpet without looking away from him. There’s a pause. He speaks quietly, as if he doesn’t want an invisible audience to hear. “You comfy? You want the pillow?” 

“No,” you answer, heart aching. “I’m okay.” 

“Okay.”

You watch the way he steels his face again, looking at you on your knees in front of him like that’s where you’re meant to be. His hands work at his belt, a soft hiss escaping when he presses his palm down the front of his pants. His head tilts back, displaying his thick neck, the rising pinkness across his pale throat, and he breathes a laugh. “Now, Princess- Wait!” You jump at the suddenness of Eddie pulling his hand from his pants only to clasp them at his waist as he half-jogs towards the door. “Just a second. Don’t move!” 

Eddie disappears through the door, mumbling to himself. His words are faint but it’s clear enough that he is looking for something. You close your eyes, focusing on his voice, however fuzzy. You never thought you could have something like this. Someone like Eddie. Someone safe. So safe that you can abandon yourself to fulfilling a silly fantasy thought up under the covers of your bed. 

Something catches your hair and you open your eyes to find him standing over you again. The tip of his tongue curls over his top lip as he places the plastic silver tiara just so on your head. When it’s as he wants it, his teeth show with his smile. “Perfect,” he says, pressing two fingers to your chin and turning your head each way. “My Princess, mm? I’m going to show you what it is to be mine.”

Eddie reaches into his pants to pull himself free. His hand drags over the shaft, quick and dirty, just for a moment’s relief if the clench of his jaw the second he stops is any indicator. 

You think you know what to do now, tipping your chin, opening your mouth, ready to take him. Only he angles his head away from your tongue. You peer up at him in confusion, watch the way his excitement plays out on his face. “C’mere, Princess.” 

Cupping your cheek with his spare hand, he guides you to the base of his cock, where he is softest. Your lips graze the fuzzy skin of his balls and Eddie makes a noise that has you squirming for the lightest touch between your legs. You kiss delicately, blinking up at him, watching his thumb rub over the head of his cock, catching wetness to ease the slow movement of his hand. He taps his fingers on your cheek gently. “Open up. Want your tongue.”

Your toes curl. You want to taste him here, aching at the smell of him; like his neck at the end of the day in Summer, his sweat and musk, fading body wash. You want to make Eddie feel good so badly, you think you might do whatever he asks as long as he looks at you the way he is now. 

You reach for him, palm settling on his knee where denim meets exposed skin. Opening your mouth, you lick quickly at the seam of his balls, taste salt on soft skin. He groans, fingers flexing around your jaw. “That’s it,” he encourages. “Fuck yes,” Eddie bites out when you lick broad and wet up to the base of his cock, thinking of his wide tongue drawing upwards from your pussy to your clit. “Fuck, yes.” 

He draws you back, smiling down at you. It makes your face burn, but you struggle between looking him in the eyes and staring at his cock. His balls are pink and wet from your attention, his hand moves steadily over his length, drawing folds of skin over his thick head and back.

“Want you to suck on them a little,” he tells you. The pause he leaves gives a moment for you to squeeze at his knee, as if presenting your open mouth wouldn’t be enough to show your agreement. He drags the weight of his balls over your chin to your wet tongue, listing off curses when your lips close just enough to suck gently. Eddie’s hand moves faster over his length, the curve of his fingers brushing your forehead with each tug.

Eddie’s groans are all that matter now. His sack is heavy, falling past your lips the wider you open your mouth. “So fuckin’ full cause of you,” Eddie bites. You hum, closing your eyes, his hips stutter. First towards the warmth of your mouth and then away entirely, replacing his sack with the head of his cock tapping against your tongue.

Eddie gasps when you lap at his leaking tip. “Can I-” He pauses, rephrases, puts on the right tone. “I’m gonna fuck your mouth now, Princess.” 

He watches you carefully, gives you time to tell him no. You squeeze his knee once more, gaze moving from his dark eyes to his cock. You press a quick kiss to the swollen head, a darker pink than the rest of him where it peeks through folds of skin, then let him press your head back against the mattress. 

Eddie’s cock glides smoothly over your tongue to the top of your throat. “Fuck,” he breathes, rolling his hips. “M’starting to think this is what you wanted the whole time.” He eases further, just past the entrance of your throat. It’s easier, like this. You are more open to him with your head tilted back this way. He holds himself in the warmth of your mouth, watching you blinking back tears to try and keep him clear in your gaze. Finally your throat protests, and Eddie draws back till you can suck at his head, the exposed length of his cock shining with your spit. You gaze at him, wanting him to be proud of you for taking him deeper than you have before. He makes a soft encouraging noise, but Eddie like this won’t give you the validation you want so easily. “Teased me for so long. I think I deserve to take what I want, now.”

Eddie thrusts slowly at first, easing you in despite his words. The hand that was on your cheek now stroking at your heated forehead. 

You like it like this. 

You liked having him in your mouth the first time, and every time after that. Like watching him shake, hearing him groan and whine, and knowing that you’re the one making him like that. You like focusing on him; lick here, nip there, let him feel you moan around him. Now, you don’t even have to think about how best to please him. You can focus on your breathing, taking air in through your nose when he pulls back enough. And on Eddie and how he looks as he takes his pleasure from you. 

Eddie’s so beautiful. His dark hair frizzes around his face, eyes crinkling at the sides when he closes them and groans into the air. His neck is pink, a pretty blush crawling up to his cheeks as his thrusts speed up. “We’re gonna do this all the time, Princess, you hear me?” He grits, fingers curling into the sheets at the side of your head. You moan in answer, pleased when it makes his cock twitch in your mouth, his tip dipping deep enough past the entrance of your throat that you can’t blink away the wetness that springs to your eyes. “You’re gonna be in my bed all the time, maybe I’ll tie you up, mm?” He presses deep again, then holds steady. When the tears collected at the corners of your eyes start to fall, he wipes them away before they can reach the apples of your cheeks. “Keep you here, just for me. Don’t need to see or talk to anyone else ever again.”

If your head weren’t fuzzy, you’d start questioning why that makes you ache. Eddie withdraws his cock from the top of your throat and you only take a second to gasp in the air you need before following him, reaching up to touch the inches of his cock your mouth still can’t quite cover. Eddie laughs through a moan at the feeling of you jerking his cock into your mouth, licking wet at the end of him. “You want that, huh? Hey-” He drags you away from his cock, leaving you with wet, pleading eyes looking up at him. “You want that?” Your mouth opens, then closes. Your hips roll, seeking friction you can’t get while kneeling like this. Eddie’s eyes flick down, lips turning up at the sight. “Get on the bed for me, mm?”

Eddie reaches a hand out to help you sit up on his mattress. Then he pulls his shirt off over the back of his head, exposing all the soft pale skin and dark ink of his torso. You pull your dress up too, knocking your tiara in the process. When the dress is off entirely, Eddie’s there in an instant to fix it for you, his fingers caressing your cheek when he’s done. “Hey, uh. Am I doing alright? Is this the sort of thing you imagined?”

“This is better,” you tell him earnestly, loving how pleased he looks. You’re learning that this, the pleasure gained from praise, is something you and Eddie share. You love it when Eddie calls you good, or smart, or sweet. When he tells you that you’re good at something he’s teaching you. In turn, Eddie likes it when you tell him how good he makes you feel, that he’s doing everything right, that he’s looking after you exactly how you want it. 

He kisses you, and it’s softer this time until he bites gently at your bottom lip as he’s pulling away. “C’mon and lie down, Princess,” he says, guiding you to lay down. You press your legs together, knees bent and feet flat to the mattress as Eddie climbs up after you. His hands stroke up and down your thighs, making you giggle softly as he passes ticklish spots. It relaxes you enough to let him guide your legs open and back, allowing him closer. Eddie tilts his head, thumbing the little blue bow at the waistband of your panties. “You really want me to tie you up?” 

Without thinking, you glance quickly at the handcuffs hanging from his door. You feel the beat of your heart against your chest, wondering if you’re ready for that, knowing really that you’re not. Eddie’s hand cups your cheek, directing your gaze back to him. He kisses your knee. “Not tonight, Princess.” He leans in, whispers. “And only ever if you really want, okay?”

“I know, Eddie,” you answer. And you do. You know that as much as Eddie is teaching you, seemingly leading you along to each new experience, in truth he’s making sure you set the pace. 

“Take this off for me,” he says, pulling at the strap of your bra. You reach underneath your back to unhook it, shimmying it off your arms and letting it drop to his floor. Once you’re settled, he takes both your hands in his, pulling them up over your head. You can’t help but giggle, feeling both nervous and giddy. “Hold onto the headboard?” You follow the instruction, wrapping your fingers around one of the wooden slats. Stretched like this, chest presented to him, you feel open and exposed, your nipples tightening from the cold air and from Eddie’s attention. “Don’t let go, mm?”

He leans down, kissing from the base of your neck down the skin between your breasts, his hair dragging behind him, tickling the sensitive skin. He leaves a wet mark on the curve of your left breast, the sting of his teeth quickly soothed by his tongue. When he takes the tight bud of your nipple between his lips, your whole body tenses. It’s a test of your submission, if you can last with only your memory of what it feels like to tangle your fingers in his hair. If you can bear not to tug at it when he flicks his tongue like that. 

Your hands tighten around the wood, hips tilting to find his cock where he tucked it back in his boxers, still hard and throbbing between your legs. The friction, however light, against where you have been waiting for him all evening, is too good to give up, and you keep searching for his hardness to rub against. 

Eddie releases your breasts with a grin. “You want it bad, huh, Princess?”

You whine, melting when he presses his hips forward to give you more delicious friction along your pussy. He huffs a laugh, sitting up and quickly reaching out for the pack of Trojans on his bedside. You watch him kneel between your legs, the way he fists his cock while he tears at the foil square with his teeth, his desperation to roll the condom over his length. Eddie shuffles forward on his knees and presses his wide hands to the back of your thighs. He gently guides your legs back, hitching your hips up for better access to your pussy, wet and swollen under his gaze.

“Wanted this for so long, Princess,” he says. “You’ve been waiting too, hmm?”

“Yes, Eddie. Been waiting so long.” You nearly cry from relief when his cock latches at your entrance, then from despair when he stills instead of filling you. The headboard creaks from your squirming. “Please,” you whisper, sounding pathetic in a way that would embarrass you if you weren’t aching from the emptiness.

Eddie stretches you perfectly as he presses inside your slick cunt. The tease of pain feels good now that your body recognises what it means, where Eddie filling you up leads. “Good?” He asks, once he’s deep enough inside that the curls of hair above his cock are teasing your clit. 

You mean to answer properly, but the intention is overtaken by the need for him to move. Waiting for him, your fingers tighten around the wood so much you swear there will be marks from your nails. “Eddie.” It comes out whinier than you intended, but he certainly doesn’t mind. 

“Eddie,” he mimics breathily, his teeth showing as the heat of pleasant humiliation crawls up your spine. He doesn’t keep you waiting any longer, snapping his hips to draw back and press deep again through your clenching cunt.

You’ve been under him every time, but like this you feel helpless. Hands voluntarily useless, body tilted up and legs opened by his hands, your body presented to him and positioned perfectly for him to set the pace. It feels right for this - you know now what the romance novels you hide under your bed mean when the heroine is taken. 

Your toes curl when Eddie’s hips roll just right, the heavy head of his cock hitting the end of you. When he reaches between you to press a thumb to your clit and rub in tight circles, your body tilts, hips trying to chase the pleasure, only for Eddie to press you back down to where he wants you.

“I like it,” you answer. “I like it, Eddie.”

“You like it, like this, hm?” Eddie asks. You blink at him slowly, wondering if it’s your boyfriend or Eddie the Banished asking. “Tell me.”

He shakes his head like he can’t believe it, hair shaking. “Knew you would. Pretty Princess just needed to be fucked right, mm?” You shudder, tightening around his cock enough that he gasps, “fuckfuckfuck. S’good. It’s so good, honey.”

You breathe a laugh. “Princess, to you.”

“My apologies,” he says, snapping his hips to land heavy against the spot at the back of your pussy. You gasp, legs kicking out against his grip involuntarily only for him to tighten his grip and push them back to where he wants them. You can hear how wet you are, the sound of him moving inside you as loud as the bed springs, as loud as your moans. “Mine now, aren’t you, Princess?” 

You nod easily. “Yes.”

“Gonna give me everything I want from now on, aren’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes-”

“Made it so easy for me. Should have just done this in the beginning, just taken you for myself.”

“Yes. Yes, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he breathes, head tilting back as his hips speed up. “Fuck, I can’t- Can’t get enough of that.” When he looks back to you, the detached, mocking look is gone. He’s all intensity and warmth, your Eddie again. Your whole body tightens. “Tells me everything I need to know when you say my name like that.” He gives you a mean thrust, tongue peeking out as he watches where you’re connected, the slick coating his cock, before his gaze returns to your pleasured, sweaty face. “You’re so fucking good, you know that? So fucking good, the way you talk to me. Telling me what you want. Not gonna hide anything like that from me again, are you?”

“Nuh,” you manage, legs twitching. “Eddie.” 

”Again,” he gasps. “Please. My sweet girl-”

“Eddie. Eddie-”

Maybe you keep chanting his name, maybe you cry it out, maybe you stop altogether to scream out instead. You don’t know. You just know he’s all you’re thinking of as the pleasure crests, spreading out from the back of your cunt through your body until it’s intense enough you think you might cry. Then it fades to the gentle delight of Eddie still moving inside you, the warmth and weight of his cock when he buries himself deep. You hear him groan, feel the potential for bruises blooming where his fingers dig into your thighs. Then it’s his weight easing down on top of you, the ache in your shoulders and your legs as you let them relax before wrapping yourself around him.

You finally get your hands in his hair. The roots are damp from sweat, his curls tangled in knots. Eddie’s face is pressed so fully to the space between your breasts that you’re not convinced he can be breathing. He mumbles something that’s lost to your ears, then tilts his head up till you can see his face, and his goofy smile. Your heart aches even as you giggle. Then he’s crawling up your body to kiss you, his mouth warm and tasting like the sweat from his upper lip. 

“I’m gonna pull out now but I want it known that it’ll take amazing strength of will on my part.” 

He does so, disappearing from the bed for less than five seconds to throw out the condom before flopping next to you again and opening his arms to let you clamber into his hold again, you try to fight the rising worries by pressing your face into his neck. He hisses at the scrape of the plastic tiara under his chin, taking it off himself before returning to stroke at your temple with his fingers.  “How do you feel, sweet girl?”

It takes you a minute to answer, sorting through all the complicated feelings that emerged the second Eddie wasn’t inside you anymore. “Good,” you murmur. Then, “weird.” 

You hate how fast it all happens so soon after something so special. You feel overwhelmed and tired, like you want to scrub yourself raw under hot water, like you want to curl up in Eddie’s arms and smell like him forever. You feel like you don’t want to ever be touched again, but the thought that Eddie won’t makes your heart sore. You wish you were normal. You wish you didn’t have weird fantasies. You wish you didn’t feel guilty about what you want. 

Eddie holds you tight against him, and you let yourself feel the comfort of that. Eddie doesn’t think you’re weird, or gross, or immoral. Eddie won’t ever leave you alone to cry and scratch at your crawling skin. 

He presses his lips to your forehead, mumbles against your skin. “Gonna let me look after you?”

He keeps you with him while he runs a bath. You’re wrapped in a towel while he runs around naked, giving you mock coquettish looks over his shoulder every now and then until he gets a giggle from you. As steam starts to rise from the tub, he searches through the cabinet under the sink before emerging with a bottle filled with suspiciously bright orange liquid. “We don’t have bubble bath but, uh, this is six-in-one.” 

You try sitting in the water together, wrapped up in him, but the pins and needles come too fast, eight limbs not quite fitting as they should. You end up facing him, legs tucked up to your chest, watching the water drip from dark ends of his hair. 

“Not as romantic as I’d hoped,” he says.

“It’s okay. I like looking at you.”

His dimples show. Sweetest boy on Earth. He splashes at you a little, waiting for you to smile before talking. “Feeling better?” 

“Much,” you answer honestly. Somewhere between giggling at Eddie rushing to his bedroom to fetch towels for you both, a hair tie for you, with his hands covering the crack of his ass while leaving his dick uncovered and him quietly insisting on taking the side of the tub with the tap at his back, the grey cloud hanging over you faded. “Cause of you,” you say, splashing him back. 

Eddie smiles, resting his face against his knee. “Is there anything I can do, you know, to make it better, like, before it happens?” He reaches for your hand in the water. “Cause it hasn’t, in a while. I know that this was, like, different, but if I did something-”

“No,” you interrupt. “It wasn’t you.” Eddie lets that sit for a while, waiting for you to continue. “When it’s just me and you, it’s like-” You swallow. “Sometimes I feel like I’m being really, actually myself for the first time in my whole life.” Eddie’s eyes are so soft, looking at you now. “And I know that you won’t ever judge me for…my fantasies, or whatever. But then it’s like, it’s almost like- Like without even wanting to, I imagine what other people would say, if they knew the stuff I told you. If they saw how I am, when it’s just us. And then I just feel like, even though they’re not there, it’s ruined it.”

Eddie squeezes your hand, sighs with his whole body. “That sounds exhausting.”

Tears prick in your eyes even as you laugh without real mirth. “It is.”

“Well, you know this stuff really is always going to be just me and you. Right?” 

“I know, Eddie.”

“I wish I could fix it for you, sweet thing.”

You close your eyes tight, trying to force back the tears. You swallow the lump in your throat, thinking, me too. Instead, you sigh, remind yourself that however hard it is now, you’re sure it used to be worse. Before you had Eddie and his humour, his touch, his kindness. “You make it better, Eddie. I promise.”

He’s perfectly gentle with you the rest of the evening, curling back up with you on the couch when you’re dry to restart Theatre of Blood. You let yourself sink into his chest, playing with his rings. You are just about engrossed in the story again, watching with sick fascination as the first critic is stabbed like Julius Caesar. Then, a thought suddenly occurs.

“Did…did you say the soap was six-in-one?”

“Sure did,” Eddie answers. “Face, body, hair, laundry, pets and dishes.”

“That’s why it smells like the terrier next door.”

Eddie hums, lifts your hand to his face and sniffs. “You mean that’s why we smell like the terrier next door.”

[euniveve]

𝐌𝐲 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞 — k. ayato

pairings: ayato x reader tags: christmas, modern AU, angst to fluff w.c: 839 a.n: this is a very very very very late christmas present for @fuoon as part of the @2023gisecretsanta event! I never back down never give up (also i was technically sick so i can latch on to that reasoning hahahhahah I'm still very sorry tho) merry christmas, happy new years, hopefully you like your gift!

“Sweetheart, I am so sorry but there’s an emergency meeting that can’t be delayed. I’ll be home as soon as it’s finished.”

You let out a sigh of defeat, looking at the bare Christmas tree in the corner of your living room. The spruce sits there, dreary and gloomy, void of life and celebration, just like your heart. The corner of your lips twitch and you swallow the growing lump in your throat, your eyes shifting back towards the fireplace.

“It’s alright,” you reply, your voice shaky before clearing your throat, “hopefully your meeting goes well.”

“Again my love, I am so sorry, I’ll try to make it up–”

You press the red button before you can hear him say anything more, sparing you the inevitable disappointment it would bring.

Ayato always does this; business before family, or perhaps in his mind it is one and the same. After all, the man has been brought up for the sake of the company, his parents burdening him with the knowledge that it will all be his responsibility someday. That “someday” came 3 years ago and it has been weighing heavily on your relationship.

Last year you were stuck with his sister, Ayaka, and housekeeper Thoma while the head of the Kamisato Corporation ended up coming home after the celebration was finished and the leftovers from the feast stored away. They aren’t bad company per se, you could even say their presence is enjoyable, but they aren’t him.

They are not Kamisato Ayato.

Granted, the previous years he had returned home in time, but this year is no different than that one. The only difference is that Ayaka and Thoma were busy this time of the year, something about helping with the business, so it seems like you will be celebrating alone. 

You suppose you are being selfish, seeing that his enterprise is the one managing the cultural aspect of the Tri-Commision, therefore they would be busy in the time of holidays, it is given. A sacrifice you would have to make, a taste for the coming years undoubtedly.

Wishing for it to change is a childish dream; you are only his fiancee after all. You ought to understand.

You look around the boxes, spotting your headphones before putting them on and arranging your favourite playlist to keep your mind off things, humming along to the tune of a familiar song. 

With absentminded singing, you pick up the tinsel and begin to wrap it around the tree, arranging tiny lights in between the branches. Your fingers twirl the ornaments before placing them in a neat and florid manner. 

Staring blankly at the now fully decorated tree, you took a couple of steps back, trying to admire your own work; that is, before your back pressed against something… warm?

You furrowed your brow, your lips pressed together as your heart began to beat faster in a panic. You quickly contemplate many possibilities; did an intruder manage to get past the property’s tight security? Are you going to get mugged? Will Ayato be sad if a bunch of stuff is missing?

You shook your head; the fiancee of the richest man in Inazuma shouldn’t be scared of such things– so you bite the bullet and turn around, only to be greeted by those dreamy blue eyes and an aloof smile, one you have the pleasure of witnessing every morning.

Ayato reaches over to you, his gaze soft as his hand gently grabs onto your headphones and removes them from your head, your heart beating out of your chest as you watch his every move.

“Ayat-”

Warmth engulfed you both as you felt his soft lips against yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, a tender touch shared only between couples; the happiest couple you know.

“But you said you wouldn’t?” You whisper with bated breath, “How.. why?”

“I will not miss another Christmas with you,” he softly replies before letting one of his mischievous smiles slip in, “After all, there are worse nights to miss than this one.”

“Pfft…”

His blue eyes shift away from your face, that smirk still sitting on his lips before his sights landed on the fully decorated Christmas tree, except for arguably, the most important part. “Where is the star?”

He slightly bent down, resting his chin on your shoulder, kissing your jaw before whispering into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your earlobe almost making you shiver. “Were you waiting for me to put it, darling?”

“As if!” You stifle a chuckle, eyeing the golden star on one of the boxes before tugging the fabric of his suit. “But could you perhaps do it?”

Ayato hummed, his arm’s grip tightened on your waist, peppering kisses on your shoulder before finally loosening and walking over to the boxes, picking up the star and placing it on top of the tree effortlessly. He then suddenly turned around, taking a mistletoe out of his pocket and holding it high up.

“Shall we complete the ultimate Christmas tradition, my love?”

[itsmewillful]

I will Always Find You

Main Masterlist

Character Masterlist:

(Vox x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5782 (i got too carried away)

Outline: You, the wife of the infamous media overlord Vox, falls from Heaven and you find yourself in a chaotic new world. You meet the Hazbin Hotel crew, but most of all, you met him. Your long lost love.

Warning(s): Canon typical violence, language, etcetera.

A/N: Heyy guys, I totally was not gone for an entire year. . .but, I'm done with High School now so I will probably start posting a little bit more often. . .*no promises though. my memory is absolute garbage*

Also, why am I obsessed with a TV?

Story below the cut:

Heaven.

The place all virtuous and 'perfect' people ascend to after living the life every good person is meant.

You don't even know how you got here. You always thought that you would go to Hell. (Not to put it lightly) Perhaps it was because you were widowed at a rather young age. Perhaps it was because you were murdered by your late husband's arch rival. Or maybe, it was a bit of all.

Your life on earth wasn't bad per se. In fact, you had a very happy life. You got married at the fruitful age of 20, to your best friend, and lived in a very comfortable home. Your husband, Vincent Holland, was a big-time news reporter in your hometown.

But, why was it in Heaven that almost all your memories regarding Vincent were blurry? As if someone with significant power was preventing you from reminiscing on your past life?

You could barely remember his face; his award winning smile. His sapphire blue eyes, and his dark hair.

You hated this.

You couldn't even remember how long ago you died.

Hell, you couldn't even remember how you died. Just that you were murdered one day and your body was left to rot in a random alley.

A hand waving in front of your face interrupted your sad train of thoughts, and your attention immediately shifted back to your friend. Or acquaintance, you weren't exactly sure where your friendship status lay.

"You alright there, partner?"

You sighed slowly and nodded your head in affirmation. You weren't sure if you were doing it to convince them that you were okay, or yourself.

"I'm alright, Kai, just a bit tired ," you mumbled pathetically. Kai was a very beautiful shark-like angel. You met them some time ago and instantly clicked with one another. But, Kai was one of those people that had a tendency of gossiping with their girlfriend Molly. And you were never comfortable sharing anything beyond your life in Heaven.

Which was a pity because you were sure if you shared it, you wouldn't feel so fucking stressed out.

The shark angel let out a small laugh and gently patted your head.

"Sure, sure. Whatever you say m'lady. You know if there's anything bothering you, you could always talk to me or Molly, right?"

You again nodded your head, even though you probably would never take up the offer.

"Hey you guys! How are you both doing?"

Speak of the devil and he shalt appear.

"Hey Molly! I see you're finally off of work?"

"Yup! And I brought a treat for you both!" Molly said in a sing-song tone of voice. Kai smiled with a nearly evil-like grin and made grabby hands at their girlfriend.

"Gimme, I can smell the baked goods!"

You chuckled at Kai's antics and stood up from the chair you were sitting in. Kai raised a brow at you and you motioned with your hand that you were going to get another drink. You picked up your now empty whisky bottle and began to head over to the bar where you and Kai find yourselves frequently whenever you both have had a long day at work.

The bartender, Mr Smiles (as Molly so lovingly named him) greeted you with a very drunken smirk when you arrived at your favourite destination.

"Hello there, Mrs. Holland. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You rolled your eyes and sat down on one of the barstools, placing your cup down and sliding it over to the bartender.

"Another, please." you said simply. Mr. Smiles blinked at you before grabbing your cup and pouring more of the golden liquid into it.

"The 'Another' for the lady." he said cheekily, to which you giggled. You snatched the cup up from the table and practically downed the strong liquid and forced back a gag when it burned your throat. The bartender chuckled at your silliness and leaned over the bar so you could hear each other better over the loud chatter of the Cloud Nine bar. (You and Kai always found the name of the bar to be hilarious)

"So, you never drink this much unless you have something to spill. Need to talk about something sweetheart?" he asked with a patient tone of voice.

You sighed dramatically and leaned back against your chair, deep in thought.

"I just. . ." you trailed off in thought before sighing again in annoyance at your capability of explaining your biggest problem.

"You just?" he tried to urge you to continue, but was rudely interrupted when a flock of angels came bursting into the room.

"His Holiness, Archangel Michael needs to discuss important matters in Town Square. Everyone present is required to make an audience immediately."

Murmurs began to fill the room in confusion of the sudden announcement. You raised your brow at the bartender, quietly asking him if he knew what all the commotion was about. He shrugged before continuing on with putting the remaining glasses away.

"Hey, partner, we need to head out to Town Square." Kai said, putting a webbed hand onto your shoulder. You nodded and stood up, following close behind your two buddies. Molly, like always, had a small hop to her step as if she was always happy and excited about things. Her partner smiled at her giddiness and soon began to also skip along with her.

Oh, how much you missed being able to have someone to be close with. And once again, your thoughts began to turn back to your late husband, Vincent.

You missed him so much.

And you were fully aware that your beloved Vincent was in Hell. The place you were also sure to go to when you kicked the bucket. But alas, here you are, in the city of silver and gold.

You stopped abruptly when you reached Town Square and noticed how big of a crowd was already there. Thousands of angels and souls alike, all stood cramped up around a huge balcony that belonged to Archangel Palace.

The chatter began to quiet down when the all-loved Archangel Michael stepped up to the balcony and waved to the crowd to silence their speech.

Kai bent over to you and whispered about how interesting things were going to get. You didn't respond, but instead gasped when a photo got projected onto the side of one of the Palace's huge spires. It was a really bloody scene: demonic-like creatures were sprawled all over the ground, torn to shreds from what you could tell. What made you feel faint, however, was the carcuses of angels. What the fuck were angels doing in Hell?

It seemed that a lot of other people were questioning the same exact thing, and Michael, once again announced order from the crowd and the only sound remaining were the hushed whispers.

"It has come to my knowledge that a secret organisation has been founded without my permission. Adam, the first man, and Sera, have been discovered sending down angels every year to kill them." He stopped mid explanation and waved his hand over to an angel that stood close to him. A scroll was placed into Michael's hands, and he unscrolled it and began to read whatever was written onto it.

"According to the words of Sera: Hell has become too overpopulated, and a risk of war could arise. Exterminations have been a necessity, and is, therefore required to keep balance between Good, and Evil." Michael immediately crumpled up the scroll, and threw it back at the poor angel that was beside him to catch.

"This is all tyranny, of course. Me and the Council did not agree to such lunacy, which is why, we are going to have a public vote as to whether or not Sera should be ex-communicated from Heaven."

A loud gasp came from the crowd.

Especially from Molly, who also seemed to begin to tear up.

"That means she'll be thrown to Hell!" she choked back a sob in surprise. Kai patted their girlfriends back to try and sooth her large and soft heart.

You, however, were enraged from the idea of angels going down and killing people. Your beloved Vincent was down there. What if he was killed?!

And like always, your spiral of thoughts was interrupted when Michael began to speak again.

"Just to be absolutely clear, this is never to be discussed with anyone ever again. After the vote is casted, anyone caught discussing this topic will immediately be casted from Paradise, and into the pits of Hell for treachery. I cannot be clear enough."

Murmurs filled the Square as everyone agreed to Michael's proposal.

"Great! Well, everyone better head off to vote now! Have a great day everyone." And like that, he vanished in a cloud of golden smoke.

You didn't realise your jaw was hanging open until Kai mentioned that you looked like a venus-fly trap waiting for a bug to land in your mouth. You clamped it shut instantly and glared at them.

"Chill! It was just supposed to be a joke!" They huffed in faux offence. Molly giggled at her partner's antics, and gently rubbed her fingers in between Kai's fins that decorated their body.

"Calm down, love. We need to head to a voting booth so we can cast votes. I know what I'm voting for."

"Yeah, I can't believe such a thing was happening behind our backs! Who knows how long it has been going on?"

Molly sighed and rubbed her fuzzy face for comfort.

"I don't know, but I hope it wasn't for too long. I believe some of my family is down there."

"Yikes, that's tough. I'm sorry for that." Kai said with sympathy laced in their voice.

You blinked back tears that were forming in your eyes. You would not cry over the possibility that your Vincent was double-dead.

You were strong.

+++

You sighed heavily when you arrived at your small apartment later that evening.

"What a rotten day," you mumbled to yourself. As if on command, your pet land-shark Vark came running into the foyer. You smiled instantly and picked up the little creature and began to pet him between his eyes.

You and Vincent loved sharks. It was a shared passion you both had that made you best friends instantly. When you first got married, you both always joked of getting a shark and naming it Vark.

Well, you had the shark, just not Vincent.

You were thinking about him again, and it was making you feel bad once more.

Why couldn't you remember some things? Who or what was making you forget?

You placed Vark back onto the ground, who of course, whined with the lack of affection from your part. You stepped over the land-shark and headed over to your balcony, that had a perfect view of the Embassy of Heaven. The place you go to whenever you have questions regarding the after-life and anything else.

Maybe there you would find answers.

With a new destination in mind, you grabbed Vark's leash and hooked him up to it. Vark began to wag his tail (well, his fin) in excitement about where you would be taking him. You smiled again at your pet's adorable-ness and began to head back outside once more.

The streets of Heaven were very peaceful. Just about no soul was out and about. It made sense since it was rather late. Around eleven o'clock actually.

Soon, the golden pillars of the Embassy came into view, and you let out a sigh when you realised it was still open. You approached the heavy double doors and swallowed back a scream when they opened up automatically. Vark found it hilarious however, when you just about died a second time from a mini heart attack.

You huffed at your shark and headed inside the golden-themed building and found that it was practically empty. I mean-duh it was empty, it was basically in the middle of the night.

A Cherub, from the looks of it, approached you and gave you a rather judgmental look over.

"Honey, I'm sorry to say this but no pets are allowed." the Cherub said with an irritating tone of voice.

You stared at the flying goat-creature and rolled your eyes.

"Vark, is a service pet. I am afraid you can't throw him out." you lied with a fake smile. One thing that Vincent taught you to do well, was fake things. You were especially good at putting on a fake show. One of the things that, once again, surprised you that Heaven looked over.

Wasn't lying a big sin?

The Cherub interrupted your thoughts when she cleared her throat rather obnoxiously.

"Alright honey. Whatever you say. To what do I owe the pleasure of assisting you with this evening?"

"Oh, well. . .I am not so sure how to explain it." you answered truthfully; slightly cringing at your lack of effort of just telling her.

The Cherub pulled out a clipboard from thin air you assumed (since she most certainly wasn't holding one earlier) and began to scribble something onto it.

"Well, Mr. Heart will be able to assist you with whatever, 'complicated' issue you have got going on." She handed you a piece of paper that had practically illegible handwriting on it, and pointed to a corridor that led to a couple of office rooms.

"Hope you find what you need, honey. Good night." and like that, she sauntered off to what you assumed to be her office. What a weird person, you thought with a click of your tongue.

You began your tread to Mr. Heart's office, and stopped when you reached the door. You lifted your hand to knock but stopped when the door was flung open and a rather energetic angel stepped out of the room.

"Hey there! You must be one of the 'poor souls' Chili sent to me! Come on in!" he moved aside and held a hand out for you to shake, to which he practically tore off yours when he shook it rather rigorously.

"The name is Heart! What's yours m'lady?"

You mumbled your name back and he let out a very loud laugh.

"Why, Mrs. Holland! Quite the pleasure to be meeting you!" 

You nodded your head and held back a gasp when he pulled you by the hand into the office.

"So, tell me what has troubled you enough to venture here so late in the night?"

You opened your mouth to begin speaking, but clamped it down when you couldn't find the right words to say. Damn it, you were nervous. You couldn't, however, pinpoint if it was from the very very close proximity of the Angel, or the lack of knowledge of how to explain your memories being jumbled up.

You could begin by telling the angel to take a few hundred steps back.

"Sorry, but um, could you step back a bit?" You asked with a shaky breath. The Angel smiled with pearly white teeth, but didn't seem to move an inch.

"I can't hear you clearly if I am too far back. It is best if I stay here." He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. (or Heaven)

You nodded, even though you doubt that was the truth. You mentally noted to never come back here again once you're down getting some answers.

"So, I have a question." You began.

"Everyone that comes here has questions. But I can't exactly be sure that your question is legal to answer or not."

Your eyes widened in curiosity. Some questions could be illegal to ask? Flashbacks from today's event clouded your thoughts, but you immediately shook them away. A traitor is how you would be viewed if you discussed with anyone about today. And you would be quite foolish to bring it up with an official member of the Council.

"So, you were saying, Mrs. Holland?"

"Why am I not able to remember some things about my life on Earth?" You may as well pull off the bandage and stop dancing around the bush in fear of being judged. Your worries worsened when the Angel's eyes seemed to darken a little.

"Whatever do you mean, darling? What memories?"

"That is the whole point! I know that I can't remember some things! I just don't know what." frustration was very clear in your voice at this point.

Mr. Heart laughed wholeheartedly as if your 'situation' was the funniest thing anyone has ever told him.

"Well my dear, no need to get all fierce with me! I only want to assist you. And it seems that you are treading on very dangerous waters. I would watch out if I were you."

You swear your eyes became fire. How dare he act as if your troubles were something scandalous! Vark began to lick your leg as an attempt to calm you down, which worked for a moment until the 'ever lovable' Mr. Heart reached a hand out and began to rub your shoulders as if he had any right to touch you.

Vark, being the wonderful pet he is, noticed this and bit his leg. The angel howled in pain and kicked your beloved baby and he began to wail in pain. At this point, all you saw was red as you lunged onto the man and began to beat him up with what some people would call a 'mother's fiery.'

Some raised voices from outside of the office eventually joined the chaos of the room, and you were dragged off the very-much battered up Mr. Heart. Well, Mr. Heartless to you.

"Mrs. Holland! How dare you strike a Seraphim! That is considered treachery to the Hierarchy of the Council!" the same Cherub from earlier screeched at you in a high-pitched tone.

"Well I'll be damned! He touched me without consent and kicked my pet! I was defending myself-"

"You lie! One sin after another! How could you!?" you felt yourself being picked up from two service angels, and being dragged to another room, your shark following you right behind.

"Where are you taking me?" You shouted, attempting to pull off the two angels that were holding you roughly.

"We're not taking you anywhere. You are going to be sent somewhere." the Cherub said with a malicious tone of voice. You bit back a sob when the words processed in your head.

They were going to send you to Hell

You eventually approached a door that read 'Employees Only' and met a room that had an arch that took up the entire floor.

The portal to Hell. The place they were going to toss you into for something utterly stupid. How hypocritical of them. Heaven, the place of love and peace? My ass!

The Cherub flew over to a panel on the side of the wall, and loud sirens were heard throughout the room. Hell, you bet the entire 'cloud kingdom' could hear the loud blaring the room was making.

A red coloured portal began to appear on the ground within the structure of the arch. You gulped and felt tears begin to dwell in your eyes.

This was it.

Good-bye Heaven. Good-bye Kai and Molly.

You could hear Vark wailing from the loud noises and you attempted at twisting around to look at him. Your last attempt at begging for your shark's mercy was cut off when you were tossed into the portal.

You fell for a moment.

Then everything went dark.

+++

What awoke you from your 'dreamless sleep' was the feeling of something wet being dragged across your face. You moaned in pain when everything came crashing down on you. Literally.

Your back hurts, your head hurts, hell, even your face hurts.

You opened your eyes and noticed your beloved land-shark was on top of you, licking your face. You didn't feel anything but pure joy at that moment when you realised your shark wasn't going to be left all alone up in Heaven.

"My baby! I thought I wouldn't see you again!" you cried aloud and clutched the shark tightly against your chest. Vark seemed to love the attention and began to get all giddy from your loving embrace.

You pulled away from him after a few minutes, and began to observe the scenery around you. You appeared to be in some sort of alleyway, noting that there was garbage and other things that you didn't care to find out what it was exactly. You stood up slowly, and nearly fell back to the ground when you felt your knees shake.

Damn, you fell hard.

(Not as hard as you fell for Vincent though)

Vark noticed that you were in pain, and began to lick you again as a way of comforting you. You smiled softly and patted his smooth head in reassurance that you would be alright. Vark got the memo, and jumped from your arms. You attempted to stand again, and lent against the wall for support.

"Vark, I need you to do me a small favour." You said with a small voice. Vark wagged his fin and his tongue poked out of his mouth in anticipation for what your next words would be.

"Can you go up ahead and see if there is anyone that can help me? I don't think I'm going to be able to get around."

Vark tilted his head to the side in slight confusion to your words, to which you sighed heavily.

"I'm hurt Vark. I need help." You said a bit more simply. Vark recognised the phrase from when you trained him years ago, and immediately ran around the corner of the alleyway in search of some suitable help.

Who are you kidding? This is Hell. Why would anyone want to help? You sighed and placed your fingers on the bridge of your nose to attempt to relieve some stress that was building up.

What a rotten day.

+++

Minutes turned into hours, and you began to grow weary that something had happened to Vark. That is until you heard the familiar pat pat of Vark's fins.

You looked up from the corner you were hiding in, and noticed a very tall demoness was approaching you with Vark and-was that Molly?

"Oh my gosh! Are you alright?!" The demoness exclaimed with pure worry in her tone. You smiled weakly and shook your head.

"No, I-I'm sorry if I'm a bit of an inconvenience. You see, I was kinda kicked out of Heaven? And I'm injured from falling. . ." You babbled on. Maybe you hit your head harder than you thought.

The demoness held a sympathetic gaze in her eyes, and she looked over to her companion who was observing you as if you were an anomaly.

"Wait, you're from Heaven?"

You nodded your head, and the fellow seemed to get all smiley. Why? Who knows.

"That's crazy toots! Ya know, my sister is up there, I wonder if you eveh got to meet 'er."

You shrugged nonchalantly.

"I didn't meet much folk up there. I'm not much for socialising."

The spider-like dude nodded his head in understanding.

"'Tis fine, we are all different. Anyway, the name is Angel Dust, and this is her majesty Charlie." He pointed to himself then waved one of his other arms to the blonde demoness, who you now know as Charlie.

She was beaming with complete and utter joy. Why do they both smile so much when they are in the fiery pits of inferno?

"You need to come back with us and tell us EVERYTHING! You could be so helpful for my hotel!" Charlie began, but then immediately stopped once she noticed you were very much lost.

"I'm so sorry for being so direct with you! I'm Charlie, as Angel said. I should've asked if you wanted our help first. I mean, of course you want my help! I mean, do you?" She awkwardly trailed off when she noticed that you were staring at her as if she had grown another head.

Hotel? What does she mean by that?

"What she is trying to ask is if you needed a place to stay?" Angel asked, brushing his hands through his hair (was it hair?) and smoothing it over. His hair (it was definitely not hair but you didn't know what else to call it.) reminded you of Molly, and your heart ached at the thought of Kai and Molly going to your apartment and not finding you there.

You felt tears welled up in your eyes, but you tried hard to not look like you were about to burst into a puddle of sadness and utter hopelessness.

Charlie noticed this, however, and she crouched down to your height and engulfed you with the warmest hug you've ever received in a long time. You felt the dam break, and immediately you began to sob. At this point, you don't even know what you are crying over.

Maybe it's for everything that has happened over the past-decade?

Decades?

You were not entirely sure at this point honestly.

You both eventually entangled each other from the hug, and she offered you a hand to help you up. You took it gratefully, and stood up slowly to prevent yourself from falling back over. Charlie smiled at you softly, to which you grinned back.

"Alright now, are we headin’' back to the Hotel?" Angel asked with a hint of impatience in his voice. Charlie nodded her head, but looked back at you to make sure that is what you wanted. You properly smiled that time, and they both took the answer as 'yes'.

+++

The hotel was nothing like how you imagined. You learned on the trip there that the hotel was a place where sinners dwelled to try and redeem themselves to earn salvation.

That was the most wholesome thing you thought you would ever hear in Hell. There's hope for you yet.

You were currently in the lounge of the hotel, where a lot of 'group activities' took place on a daily basis. You and Vark were on top of a very comfortable couch that was tucked away in a corner. You were honestly so comfy, that you felt yourself dozing off. Until you heard a voice that made you want to rip your ears off.

"Why, hello! I didn't know our beloved Charlie had once again found another unfortunate soul to try out her silly project!"

The man's voice sounded muffled, almost as if he was speaking through some sort of antique microphone from ages ago. You made eye-contact with the looming figure, and noticed he reassembled a deer in a strange and unique way.

Who the Hell was this man? And why is he so-red?

As if he could read your mind, he shoved his hand in your face to shake and practically announced to the hotel who he was.

"The name is Alastor! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!" You smile you returned was weak but you still shook his hand, and sighed when you realised he wasn't about to break your hand like the other guy. Mr. Heart or whatever his name was.

That stupid prick. You were mad at him again.

"No need to frown, dear! Smile some more! You're never fully dressed without one!"

This Alastor was starting to get on your nerves. And he seemed to be a staff member of the place, which only meant you would be seeing him a lot. That is if you stayed. Also, his own smile was slightly unnerving. . .not to mention kind of creepy.

"Alastor! Leave the poor girl alone." you heard Charlie call from another part of the lounge. Alastor rolled his eyes before he turned hot on his heels to argue back that he was simply 'introducing' himself.

Whatever, you didn't really care.

You stood up from the couch, Vark following closely, and began to sneak away from the chaos of the Hotel. You eventually found yourself on the sidewalks of the busy street of some part of town.

One thing you noted was how many bright neon lights decorated the sides of buildings and billboards. Vark seemed to be lost in the flashing colours and noises of the advertisements playing on TV's.

There were so many TV's. Which triggered a long lost memory that you never remembered from your time in Heaven.

It was a year or so after you and Vincent got married. He had just landed a job as a news reporter for a small company that was local to your hometown. You were aware that he loved all the new technology that was being released too quickly to follow up on. But you never expected him to one day bring back an extremely expensive TV for your living room.

"Vincent! What on Earth did you get this time?"

He rolled his eyes and rolled a portable box TV into the kitchen for you to examine.

"I got us a TV. It's especially for you so you can watch me when I'm on the afternoon news." He said with a cheeky smile. You chuckled at his antics and headed over to him to give him a hug.

"You're such an attention seeker, and you're also adorable."

He only laughed at that, and hugged you back just as tightly as you.

"Only for you doll, only for you."

The memory faded, and it left you standing idiotically in the middle of the sidewalk. That was new, and not to mention, so heartwarming.

You missed Vincent. A lot. And you were aware you kept thinking about him. Must be because your memories are no longer blocked.

Vark began to bark at an advertisement when you noticed a man with a TV for a head appeared on one of the TV's close to you. He was talking about some sort of security system, but you didn't care. What you did care about was how familiar his grin was to you.

That wasn't a coincidence, was it?

Vark distracted you from your thoughts when he began to run away when the scent of seafood wafted through the air. You out called after him and began to spring after the shark.

How does an animal run so fast with fins?

You once again got lost in your thoughts and didn't notice that you and your runaway shark were headed towards a huge crowd that was forming in front of a building nearby. Vark, being so small, ran in between the demons of all sizes and continued on his way. You were about to do the same until you ran into someone and knocked yourself and the stranger down.

"Woah! Careful where you're running off to!"

"I am so sorry!" You squealed when you realised that you had unintentionally caused a scene. You had landed completely on top of a random person; in front of a huge crowd; and it was the same man with the TV head.

Ah, what luck you had. Your thoughts were cut off when the TV headed man began to look you up and down, which made you very...uncomfortable? But his gaze felt familiar, as if instinct was telling you you knew this strange man.

"I feel like I've seen you before, do I know you?" He began, but you cut him off when you scrambled to your feet when you noticed Vark returned to you with some fish in his mouth. Or what you assumed was fish.

"Vark! You are in so much trouble!" You announced, bending over to pick up the mischievous land-shark that has caused oh-so-many problems with you today.

You heard people around you murmur, to which you raised your brow to, but decided to ignore. You turned back around to again apologise to the man you so rudely knocked over, but found him staring at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

What was his deal?

You heard him mumble your name, which definitely made you jump a bit.

"What was that?"

He rushed over to you instantly and immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you into the building the crowd was forming around, completely ignoring all the commotion that began to arise outside.

You both eventually reached a secluded corridor, and you found yourself standing in close proximity with the man.

Who even is he? And what the fuck gave him the right to drag you around like a doll?

He called your name again, and you felt his hands gently cup your cheeks. You met his artificial gaze, and you all but gasped when it all finally clicked.

Vincent Holland. Your long lost and beloved husband.

"V-Vincent?" You stammered, completely bewildered that you had somehow found him in a city with millions of people. Maybe luck was truly on your side finally.

"H-how?" You started, but got cut off when a pair of digital lips met yours in a sweet kiss. Your eyes widened in shock: you were kissing a TV. But this was also your husband. (Who had a screen for a head somehow…)

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, humming softly when he began to bite and suck at your lips. You pulled away, however, when Vark began to cry from the lack of your attention.

"Vark! Stop it!" you scolded him. Vincent chuckled at the interaction to which you raised a brow.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh nothing. I also have a land-shark named Vark." he stated as if it were the most obvious thing. Your eyes widened in disbelief.

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes, doll. I got him as soon as I found out you could have one. And I named him Vark because, well, we always joked about it."

You smiled so sweetly at this. You and Vincent coincidently having a pet shark and naming them the same was just too heartwarming to you. You pulled him back into another kiss, to which Vincent welcomed whole-heartedly.

You pulled away after a minute when your lungs burned for air, and noticed Vincent was staring at you adoringly.

"What is it?" You asked.

"I thought I would never see you again. You don't know how much I've missed you. I looked for you everywhere as soon as I was able to to it safely. Even though it didn't happen as fast as I wanted, I knew I would always find you." he whispered. He kissed your head gently, which you leaned into slightly.

You felt your heart ache a little, when you realised that he probably didn't get to live in an oblivious bliss to your absence. A perk of living in Heaven, you supposed, was the lack of memory of anything that could make you wish the fiery pits of Inferno.

"Me too Vincent, me too. I'm so glad that I found you again." you placed your forehead against his (screen), and shared a loving embrace.

You and your beloved Vincent, was once again, united. 

i finally looked over it, and part one of the prologue is up. if there is any mistakes i didnt catch, feel free to let me know!

also, i love vark. he carries this story ngl.

But I still will because this story felt very. . .rushed. even though it's so DAMN LONG HOLY SHIT.

-will

[yoongiseesawmp3]

made for this - wooyoung (m)

part of the church boy series. 

summary: you’re volunteering for this year’s vacation bible school, and wooyoung’s little brother just so happens to be in your group. is it wrong of him to use kyungmin as his wing man? eh, who cares. wooyoung is just determined to get you to fall for him before the week is over, and he’ll do whatever it takes.

word count: 10.5k 

warnings: light smut!!! afab reader. wooyoung is whipped.

“kyungmin, come here!” you shout, shortly followed by a sigh. he’s not a problem child, per se, but whenever he sees his older brother he goes running.

wooyoung, said older brother, is a vbs volunteer, like yourself. except he’s with the older kids, and you’re stuck with the younger group. you’re still dealing with some criers, some biters, and some brats, while wooyoung’s biggest issue is keeping his one fourth grader off her phone. 

his brother, kyungmin, is one of your youngins. he’s sweet, and funny, and smart. all things he shares with his brother, but you’d pick kyungmin over wooyoung any day. wooyoung makes your blood boil only slightly, so you sigh again as you head his way so you can peel kyungmin off his leg.

“come on, bud, we gotta go outside for games,” you say politely, patting kyungmin on his back. you don’t make eye contact with wooyoung, trying to keep this interaction short. 

“listen to your leader, kid,” wooyoung encourages, shaking his leg and jostling his brother. “y/n.”

“wooyoung,” you smile curtly. “kyungmin, seriously. i’m not even gonna count i’m just gonna leave you here.”

“no please, take him,” wooyoung begs, and you have to laugh. kyungmin looks up at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes and you tickle him under his chin. his giggle makes you and wooyoung smile, which warms wooyoung’s heart. you have a soft spot for the little one, even if you didn’t want to admit it. it made him happy seeing someone else dote on his brother the same way he does. 

“ok,” you sigh. “guess i’ll have to eat your snack if you don’t come with me.”

“no!” kyungmin yelps, detaching himself from wooyoung’s leg finally. “i’ll come with you.”

“great choice,” you smile. “say goodbye to your brother.”

“bye,” kyungmin waves sadly, and you take his free hand and give it a squeeze.

“bye smelly,” wooyoung replies, and kyungmin shouts “hey!” to which wooyoung says, “i wasn’t talking to you, that was for y/n.”

“yeah, y/n stinks!” kyungmin laughs, and you groan. you shoot a glare at wooyoung and he waves sweetly.

“thanks,” you tell him. “that’s gonna be fun to deal with all day.”

“have fun!” wooyoung sing songs, finally following his class to their next station as you usher yours outside. 

you really don’t like wooyoung, you think to yourself.

too bad though, because wooyoung really likes you. 

-

your relationship with wooyoung is complicated. well, let’s not call it a relationship, because if he knew you even used that word in relation to him it would make him levitate. no, your, uh, friendship? with wooyoung is kinda weird. you grew up together at the church, but went to different schools and therefore had different friends and different lives. but you saw each other a few times every week for the past 20 or so years, and that constitutes some kind of situation based friendship at least. when you were kids, he’d swap snacks with you when he got animal crackers and you got pretzels. he’d save a seat for you at choir practice, and you’d make sure to find him during worship on youth nights. a couple times you even did joint costumes for the pg halloween parties the youth ministry held, so yeah, you were friends with wooyoung. but had you ever seen him outside of church? no, absolutely not. 

that hasn’t stopped wooyoung from utterly falling in love with you, though. he was in denial for a few years, initially thinking his prepubescent feelings for you were just side effects of his changing body. but as he went through high school and now into college and adulthood, he’s realized there’s always been a part of him that hoped you’d be into him too. so far you’ve given him no reason to think you are, especially as of late. when you were younger your friendship was lazy, sure, mostly by proximity than anything else, but now you barely talk to him. it took an act of god for you to end up as kyungmin’s group leader for vbs (not really, wooyoung just learned you could request a certain leader and the kid would pretty much end up there). but it still made his heart leap when he got the email about volunteer assignments and he saw your name paired with his brother’s. 

so why does wooyoung get the vibe that you don’t like him anymore? well, earlier this year he broke your best friend’s heart. she went off to another university while you stayed close to home, and she kept telling you about “the most amazing guy” who “might just be the one” and come to find out, it was wooyoung all along. he wasn’t aware that your friend even liked him, he thought they were just really good friends, and wooyoung just happens to be super touchy with the people he’s comfortable around. so what your friend construed as wooyoung being into her was just wooyoung being wooyoung. that went on for about a semester before wooyoung finally broke it to your friend that he had feelings for someone else, and it took you a while to help your friend repair that damage. that’s left a bad taste in your mouth toward wooyoung since, plus he just seems to be more annoying lately, too. you were thrilled to have kyungmin in your group for the week, but it irked you that you’d be around wooyoung so much against your will. everyone outgrows their childhood friends at some point, right? maybe this was your chance to leave mr. elmo laugh behind. 

-

even though this is just the second day of vbs, you’re exhausted when your final kid is picked up at dismissal. well, technically your final kid. kyungmin is still in your care, and he’s excitedly kicking his feet trying to stay still while he waits for his brother to finish up with his group and take him home. your other volunteer already left, so you take a seat next to kyungmin and ask him about the day and what he liked most. he said he liked snack the best, because you traded with him so he could get pretzels and you’d get his animal crackers, just like you used to do with wooyoung. he hears this as he’s walking up, and his heart warms at the sight of you and his lil bro sharing stories and giggling over the day. wooyoung would stop and admire the scene in front of him longer, but you turn just slightly to settle in the chair and see wooyoung from the corner of your eye.

“oh, hey kyungmin, your ride’s here,” you say, nudging your little buddy, and instantly he’s out of his chair and in wooyoung’s arms. 

“hi,” kyungmin smiles and wooyoung just laughs. 

“where’s your stuff, kid? don’t leave anything behind,” wooyoung warns, and his brother hops down and gathers his goods from the day. wooyoung catches your eye and asks, “how was he?”

“i wanna say he was perfect, but that would just give him a big head,” you joke.

“yeah, and it’s massive already,” wooyoung joins in. 

“just like his big bro,” you counter, and wooyoung feigns insult as kyungmin reappears at his side. 

“ready!” he shouts, then looks up at his brother. “can we get mcdonald’s on the way home?” 

“no, we have food at the house.”

“you sound just like mom,” kyungmin whines, and then he turns to you. “i bet y/n would let me go to mcdonald’s. y/n is more fun than you.”

“that’s true, i am more fun,” you agree, “and i would totally take him to mcdonald’s. you know they have adult happy meals right now?” 

“then let’s go,” wooyoung says, catching you off guard.

“what?”

“let’s go to mcdonald’s,” wooyoung says again with a shrug. “my treat. consider it my thanks for holding min’s sticky hands all week.”

you try to protest but kyungmin is so excited you don’t think you can turn the offer down. you quickly grab your things (and one more thing kyungmin almost forgot) and follow wooyoung to his car. he’s got kyungmin on his back, so when you see wooyoung’s beat up hand-me-down car, you walk ahead so you can open the door and help get the little one into his car seat. wooyoung’s heart warms again, and you share a sweet smile as he slides kyungmin into the seat and you get him buckled. 

“thanks for coming with us,” wooyoung says as he opens the passenger door for you. 

“you said you were paying, so how could i turn it down?” you tease.

“oh, so you only want to spend time with me because i’m buying your lunch? low blow, y/n,” he whistles. “i thought our 20 plus years of friendship meant more to you than this.”

“but how much of that time were we actually friends?” you ask once wooyoung has made it to the driver’s side of the car. “we only ever hung out at church.”

“and you didn’t cherish every moment?” wooyoung asks, shocked. 

“you guys are talking too much,” kyungmin pipes up from the backseat. “i want music.”

“hum to yourself, kid, the adults are talking,” wooyoung tells him. 

“we can put some music on,” you offer. 

“do you keep taking his side because he’s your favorite or is this payback for you still being mad at me?” wooyoung whines. 

“both, actually. i’m a multitasker,” you tell him. “you want me to take the aux, or?”

“nothing with cuss words,” he sighs, handing you the cord. 

“nothing with cuss words,” you mock as you plug your phone in, frantically turning the volume down just in case. you pick your babysitting playlist, which has plenty of kid-friendly songs from your favorite artists, and wooyoung chuckles when the first song plays.

“you still listen to them?” he asks, noticing the paramore song playing softly through the car.

“uh, yeah,” you reply. “they’re my favorite band, why wouldn’t i still listen to them?”

“they haven’t made an album in years!” 

“they have one coming out next year-”

“y/n, turn it up!” that was kyungmin.

“not too loud or i can’t see,” wooyoung says.

“that makes no sense,” you respond, blasting the music only for wooyoung to turn it back down.

“no, seriously, there’s a weird turn to get into the parking lot so i need to focus,” wooyoung says as he checks his mirrors. “mom would kill me twice if i got in an accident with you and kyungmin in the car.”

“wooyoung is no fun, right little man?” you ask, craning your neck back to kyungmin. he nods in agreement and you start to say something else, but wooyoung flooring it to make the turn yoinks you back into your seat, and wooyoung can’t help but laugh at the pathetic sound you let out at the seatbelt holding you in place.

“you good?” he asks calmly, parking quickly so he can get out and help his brother before you have time to hit him for inadvertently choking you. 

“you’re lucky your brother is here,” you grumble as you get out. 

-

you all get your food, and kyungmin inhales it faster than you can even open the toy from your big kid meal. once he’s done, you both agree that he can play in the playplace if he washes his hands really good after, and then you’re alone with wooyoung. you pick at your fries for a minute, not realizing how awkward it would be without kyungmin as a buffer. you’re trying to still be mad at wooyoung, just a little bit, but he’s making it really hard. being away from him because of school made you forget how warm he made you feel, and how easy it is to be around him. he makes you want to be his friend, but you have to remind yourself that your actual best friend had her heart broken by the man sitting across from you. the man who’s currently putting fries into his mouth to make him look like a walrus. he gets your attention, hoping to make you laugh, and when you just stare back at him he sighs. 

“tough crowd,” he mumbles, eating the fries quickly like that will make you forget that he just made a fool of himself. “so you are still mad at me.”

“just a little.”

“i’ll tell you the same thing i told her: i didn’t know she liked me. if i had, i wouldn’t have acted like that. i didn’t mean to lead her on, i swear,” he explains. 

“yeah, but you still really hurt her,” you say. “i guess that’s what i’m still mad at. you’re not really recognizing that she got hurt because of what you did even if you didn’t mean to do it.” 

“i really messed up, yeah,” he says. “i really liked being her friend, so i just got comfortable and didn’t think about how that would look. i just like being touchy with my friends.”

“yeah, but she told me you would like, hold her hand and walk her to class? kiss her forehead? like i know you’re a touchy but damn. and the whole time you were interested in someone else?”

“yeah, wonder who that could be,” wooyoung mumbles quietly, sipping his sprite as you go on. he notices that you’re using your hands a lot while you speak, and your elbow is dangerously close to the ketchup on your tray. he carefully pulls it to the middle of the table, and you stop midsentence.

“what are you doing?”

“you were about to dunk your arm in ketchup,” he explains, sneakily taking a fry as he speaks. “nothing else.”

“so not fair,” you reply, stealing a fry from his tray. this leads to a childish fight where one of you might have, maybe, thrown french fries across the table (it wasn’t wooyoung) but the mess was interrupted by a woman walking up to your table.

“um, excuse me,” she starts politely. “are you his parents?” she points toward the playplace, where you see kyungmin on the ground with his lip quivering. you don’t wait to hear what’s wrong from the woman before you’re springing up to help kyungmin, and wooyoung just watches on. he listens intently as the woman tells him kyungmin and her son were playing and min just lost his footing and fell, but it must have knocked the wind out of him because wooyoung sees you helping kyungmin breathe. he politely thanks the woman and joins you in the playplace, kneeling down to be at eye level with his brother.

“are you good, man? you fell pretty hard?” wooyoung asks, and kyungmin nods. “do you wanna go home?”

“yeah,” kyungmin nods, voice still shaky. 

“ok, let’s go,” wooyoung says, picking min up easily while you grab his shoes. wooyoung takes him to wash his hands as you go back to the table and eat in silence. they come back as you finish your food, and you watch kyungmin not only eye your last chicken nugget but he seems very interested in the toy from your happy meal as well. you slide them both over to him, assuring him that he can have them, and then you start to clear the trays. 

“i’ll go pull the car around,” wooyoung says as you help kyungmin throw away his things. you nod and grab kyungmin’s hand, trailing behind wooyoung. while you wait outside, you try to make kyungmin smile but the best you can get is a little giggle here and there. 

“you need to eat lunch with us more,” kyungmin says. “you’re my favorite leader, and wooyoung really likes you too. so i think he had fun just like me.”

“you think so kid?” you ask as you ruffle his hair, and wooyoung pulls the car around. he smiles at you from the front seat as you help kyungmin into the car, his little words bouncing around your head. wooyoung really likes you too.

-

the next day at vbs is a rough one. you’ve got two kids that keep crying throughout the day (one periodically remembers her mom isn’t right next to her and the other keeps getting scared by his own hiccups) so you’re doing just about as well as you’d expect for this many kids of this age. but it’s a tough day for everyone, it seems. this morning wooyoung was made aware that one of his kids was bullying another older kids, and they made plans to go fight in the bathroom. at church! so on top of wooyoung needing to watch that one kid like a hawk, the rest of the group is afraid of this kid, and they also want to know every minute detail and therefore won’t shut the hell up. wooyoung looks frazzled, to say the least, and he doesn’t even pick on you when you pass by each other in the hallway. he gives a simple nod and waves to kyungmin before yoinking his line into the correct classroom. so you and kyungmin devise a plan.

you’re currently taking your kids to snack time, and that means you get to head to the volunteer snack room, which is perhaps what heaven actually looks like. people from the church donate all kinds of delicious food throughout the week, and it’s some of the best food you’ll eat all year. wooyoung’s group had snack first, which is decidedly the worst time to have snack because all that they set out for the volunteers is granola bars and maybe some fruit. you know that he needs a little pick me up, so you tell kyungmin that you’re going to make an extra plate and sneak it to wooyoung (food can’t leave the room because kids have allergies, lame) but you need kyungmin to fake a stomach ache so you have an excuse to go get wooyoung in the middle of a session. 

“so you understand the plan?” you confirm with your mini-conspirator as you walk into the snack room. 

“yep,” he says with a nod. “i’ll wait a few minutes-”

“how many exactly?”

“i’ll count to 300,” he informs you, and you do the math quickly.

“five minutes?”

“sure,” he shrugs. “i’ll count to that many and then tell one of the snack leaders i have a tummy ache. and then they’ll take me to you, and we can get my big brother.”

“perfect, kid,” you tell him, a smile on your face at how proud he looks. you lean down so you can whisper in his ear, “i’ll try to sneak a brownie just for you.”

“please!” he shouts out of excitement, and you have to shush him quickly. one of the snack room leaders looks at you funny and you assure her it’s nothing as you ruffle kyungmin’s hair before heading to snack paradise. 

they’ve got a good spread today: sandwiches, cheese dip, those meatballs people only make for baby showers, and so many desserts. you try to quickly gather your plate without drawing attention, and just as you sit down there’s a knock at the door. everyone looks in that direction, and you see kyungmin hiding behind one of the snack volunteers. he’s putting on the show of his life, lip quivering, hand on his stomach, everything.

“y/n? sorry to bother you, but your friend here says his stomach hurts and he won’t let any of us help him,” she says sweetly. 

“oh buddy,” you coo, heading toward the door then squatting in front of kyungmin. “what’s wrong sweet boy?”

“it’s my tummy,” he says in a shaky voice. “it hurts really bad.”

“like bathroom hurts or hurt hurts?” you ask, hoping kyungmin can continue playing along. 

“i don’t know,” he says, and you nod before standing back up. you put your free hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze. 

“is it alright if i head out and find his brother? he may need to go home,” you tell one of the snack room volunteers. he immediately eyes the plate of food in your hands, and kyungmin chooses that exact moment to whine. somebody give this kid an oscar!

“just don’t bring the food around the other kids and you should be fine,” he says, and you thank him quickly. you usher kyungmin down the hall, stopping at the cooler to grab a sprite which you pass to kyungmin, and a coke for yourself. 

“maybe this will help settle your stomach, bud,” you say as you walk off, and when you’re far enough down the hall you let out a laugh. kyungmin looks up at you proudly, and you smile back. “dude! you did great! where’d you learn to act like that?”

“wooyoung and i pretend like that sometimes so we don’t have to do things with mom and dad,” kyungmin says easily, and you laugh at the idea of wooyoung using his little brother to get him out of unwanted situations. as you near the big kid’s hallway, you find a quiet spot to deposit your little sidekick and place the food on an abandoned nursery chair. 

“i’ll go get wooyoung really quick, you stay right here, ok?” you tell kyungmin, and he nods solemnly, playing his part through till the end. you head around the corner and slow down, peeking past doorways to see if you can spot your target. you finally find him, and lightly knock on the open door. wooyoung immediately catches your eye and you motion for him to come with you, and he’s on his feet in seconds. 

“what’s wrong?” he asks, worry evident in his voice. “did he get hurt? is he sick? oh i hope he’s not throwing up, i couldn’t handle that right now-”

his rambling is cut short by the sight in front of him, his brother happily swinging his legs and sipping a sprite with brownie crumbs around his mouth. wooyoung looks at him and back to you, mouth unsure what to ask first.

“we thought you could use a break,” you say with a shrug. “plus today was meatball day and i remember those are your favorite.” 

“i could kiss you right now,” wooyoung says, and kyungmin’s little “do it!” in the background makes you both laugh. you make a gagging noise and ignore the way wooyoung is looking at you to continue explaining what snacks you brought, mostly so you can tell him explicitly which are his and which are just for you. kyungmin also fills him in on the whole plan, and wooyoung looks on with a smile as his brother gets excited to let him in on the secret. 

“yeah how’s that tummy doing now, min?” you ask once he’s done explaining everything. “we might need to head back.”

“no,” he whines. “a few more minutes?” 

“just a couple,” you sigh, and wooyoung laughs. “what was that for?”

“he’s got you wrapped around his finger, you know,” he says matter of factly. 

“no,” you scoff. “he’s a kid, i have the power here.”

“oh so you’re telling me you didn’t just cave at him whining once? and he didn’t convince you to come do this for me?”

“no he didn’t, actually.”

“what?”

“it was my idea,” you tell him. “you looked miserable last time i saw you so i wanted to do something nice. y’know, since you bought my lunch yesterday.”

“hm, sure, sure,” wooyoung nods. “kyungmin still has you in his pocket. he could ask you to bring him the moon and you’d do it.”

“wouldn’t you?” you say with a laugh.

“depends on who’s asking.” 

“ok, we can go back now,” kyungmin says with finality, like he’s the one that makes decisions around here. which apparently he does, because you stand as soon as he says that. wooyoung catches your eye and he quirks an eyebrow, but you shut him up quickly.

“i was about to say the same thing!” you explain. “he and i are just on the same wavelength. we get each other. he’s my partner in crime.”

“crime is bad, y/n,” kyungmin pipes in.

“yeah, crime is bad, y/n,” wooyoung parrots, and you stick your tongue out at him. “but thanks for breaking the rules for me. i really needed this break.”

“anytime friend,” you tell him, grabbing your trash and beckoning kyungmin to follow you. 

-

later that same day, you and wooyoung find yourselves being volun-told to stay longer and help prepare one of the big group activities for tomorrow, and this is another one of those rare moments nowadays where kyungmin isn’t there to wingman himself into the situation or act as a distraction if things get awkward. he’s spending the night with the oldest jung brother, and he seemed so excited about it that you could tell wooyoung was a little jealous. dare you say it was...cute? no, snap out of it. back to work. 

you and wooyoung aren’t the only volunteers staying longer today, but you’re probably the only ones under the age of thirty so you’re sticking close together. because of your young, spry state, they’ve given the two of you the job of laying tape down on the gym floor because you can “get up and down faster than us” so currently you’re secluded in the corner with wooyoung as he opens a new roll of neon colored duct tape. 

“so did your day get any easier?” you ask while wooyoung focuses on finding the start of the new roll.

“yeah,” he says, tongue between his teeth and concentration clear on his face. “gimme a second though. no distractions.”

“didn’t know i distracted you.”

he wants to say that you do more than distract him, but he literally bites his tongue to stop himself. instead he lets out an “aha!” and pulls the tape out before handing it to you. you bend down and add it to the mess on the floor, hoping you’re doing this the way the children’s minister explained. 

“so my day. yeah, it got better,” wooyoung starts again as he watches you work. “i don’t know what happened while i was with you guys, but it’s like everyone’s attitude in my group just...disappeared.”

“weird,” you say, and wooyoung hums in agreement. “maybe they just needed a break from you as much as you needed a break from them.”

“hey, i’m a lotta fun, y/n,” wooyoung says sternly, finger pointed at you accusingly. “those kids love me.”

“not as much as mine love me though,” you say with a fake pout. “did you see my bestie started crying when her mom said they had to go? she didn’t want to leave her favorite leader.”

“since when is this a competition?” wooyoung laughs. “i’m sure your kids like you enough.”

“oh come on, you used to make everything a competition when we were kids,” you remind him. “we couldn’t even walk down the hallway without you asking me if i wanted to race.”

“that’s because i wanted to show off how fast i was.”

“too bad i never caved and saw it then.”

“we could race tomorrow with our kids,” wooyoung offers, and you laugh.

“yeah, and then neither of us would have an easy day. encouraging these kids to race each other indoors would be asking for trouble.”

“i think it’d be fun,” wooyoung says with a mischievous smile. “i say we just have one day where the kids need to figure it out on their own, lord of the rings style.”

“you mean lord of the flies, you dork?” 

“whatever. i didn’t read either of them.”

“of course not.” 

“hey, you messed that one up,” wooyoung points out, and you sigh. you move from a crouch to sit completely on the floor, and you start picking away at the strip of tape that doesn’t want to come off the floor. 

“can you help me?” you whine, and wooyoung is down at your level in a heartbeat. he joins you in picking at the sides, hoping that you can get enough up to get a grip and yank it all in one go. there’s an unusual moment of silence as you work, but wooyoung has to break it.

“so,” he begins. “i think you being nice to me today proves that you don’t hate me anymore.”

“it may seem that way, yes,” you agree with a nod. “but i’m not all the way there yet.”

“and what’s stopping you?”

“i don’t know,” you sigh. “i guess i just have one more question about the whole thing, and then i’ll be okay.”

“shoot.”

“who was the other girl?”

what?

“huh?” wooyoung asks, so shocked by the question that he pulls the tape up on accident.

“hey, nice,” you grin, pulling at the last couple pieces. “didn’t expect that to shock you so much.”

“why? what do you mean?” he asks incredulously. “the other girl when?”

“the other girl you told my friend you liked all along,” you say. “the one you wouldn’t date her because of?”

“oh, that, right, um. well, i don’t know,” he rambles. “it was just-”

“if you don’t wanna tell me, that’s fine,” you shrug. “i can just keep not liking you until you tell me.”

“hey, at least you’re not saying hate anymore,” he points out.

“baby steps,” you tell him. “who knows, maybe one day i’ll get back to saying the big one.”

“that you like me? how very elementary of you, y/n.”

“no, the real big one. the love word. we loved each other when we were kids, right? we were close enough that we would say that to each other.”

“oh, haha, right,” wooyoung laughs. “probably didn’t know what it meant but yeah, i bet we did.”

little do you know, but wooyoung could still say it now and mean it more than he ever did before. 

-

you kept talking to wooyoung as you worked, and after a while you finished taping up the gym floor. you started warming back up to wooyoung the more time you spent with him, and you forgot how bright his personality is. spending time with him is like sitting outside in the sun, you could do it all day and you definitely feel a difference when you’re done. 

making small talk, wooyoung asked what you had planned for when you got home, and you told him all about the exciting world of online grad school. he didn’t even know you were taking classes. so he’s shocked to hear that you’re doing that on top of volunteering and work. 

that being said, wooyoung knows you had a late night yesterday. and he knows you’re probably going to be super tired today, and since his older brother is dropping kyungmin off this morning, that means wooyoung has a little extra time to himself. he decides to use it wisely, and sets out early enough to get himself a little treat while he’s at it. 

when you come into the church that day, you are exhausted. staying later yesterday meant you had less time to decompress after being around the kids, so you really had to jump right into coursework and it kept you up for a while. you’re mid yawn when you notice wooyoung standing with your other leader and the one kid that always seems to get there super early. it’s not out of the ordinary to see wooyoung mingling, but it’s what’s in his hands that has you confused. 

“hey,” you call out, and he turns around with a sunny smile. “whatcha got?”

“breakfast,” he says proudly. “for me, you, and kyungmin.”

“none for your older brother?”

“nah, he’s a big boy, he can get it himself,” wooyoung scoffs. “here, sit.”

you do as he says and sit down, noticing wooyoung doesn’t just have a tray of drinks but there’s a bag of food, too. he hands you a drink that you hesitate to sip, still waking up honestly, and unsure of whether or not you can accept this kindness so early and so unwarranted.

“i couldn’t remember what kind of donuts you like, or if you even like donuts at all, so there’s a couple different ones plus a bagel and cream cheese in there,” wooyoung says, opening the bag and peeking in. “you can take what you want and me and min will have the rest, we can eat anything.”

“thank you,” you say meekly as he goes on.

“and then i got you coffee because you said you had an assignment due last night,” he begins, handing you the warm cardboard cup. “but i only got one because i remembered what you like.”

“latte with oatmilk?” you ask with a smile, and wooyoung nods.

“made them add some cinnamon too, you like that right?”

“love it,” you confirm before taking your first sip, and you sigh at the warmth it brings you. you glance over at wooyoung and he’s just smiling back at you. “thank you, really. this was too nice.”

“thought we could all use a little treat,” wooyoung says, brushing it off like he didn’t just make your entire day better with this gesture. “besides, you need your energy for our race later.”

“very funny.”

“i mean it, my kids are ready-”

“wooyoung! y/n!” a little voice shouts, and you share a look because you know who it belongs to. you wait while wooyoung grabs his little brother up and brings him over to you, waving goodbye to the oldest as he stands by the door to make sure kyungmin found the right people. 

“welcome back best buddy,” you tell him, patting the seat next to you. “big bro got you a present.”

“a new car?”

“what? no, you don’t need a car,” wooyoung says sternly. “i got you breakfast.”

as wooyoung explains what he got for kyungmin, you take a moment to appreciate the man in front of you. you’ve always known wooyoung was caring and thoughtful, but you let a little scuffle take away all the good things you used to feel for him, and that’s not fair. you find yourself admiring him for too long, actually, noticing not just how sweet he is with his little brother, but also noticing how handsome his side profile is. wooyoung catches you off guard with a question, and when you ask him to repeat it there’s a blush on his cheeks. he knew what you were doing, but you don’t know that you just got caught.

“i asked how the donut was,” wooyoung repeats himself, and you assure him it was delicious. you watch as he splits one with his brother before heading over to his group area, but not without a final look in your direction and maybe a wink too, just to keep things fun. 

you don’t know where this change has come from exactly, but you find yourself daydreaming about wooyoung all morning. your mind might just be clouded by the bribery in the form of the perfect coffee, but you’ve had plenty of time to think back on how sweet wooyoung has been to you all these years. you’re in the middle of the bible story session when it hits you: wooyoung has liked you all along. like, the big one liked you. like, you were probably the girl he rejected your friend for liked you. how could you not know this? he was so obvious. sure he was shy about it, but that doesn’t mean he was slick. the signs were there, you just didn’t notice them until now. 

you’re also noticing just how..thrilled? excited? the thought of wooyoung liking you is making you feel. it might have taken all this time for you to admit, but you had a crush on him when you were kids, you just tried to make it go away once you both started getting involved with your friends at school. those childlike feelings are back now, butterflies flapping around in your guts as you make eye contact with wooyoung during a transition. he smiles at you like always, but you panic and look away. that’s not un-normal for you, but it does have wooyoung thinking for a minute that you may not be as warmed up to him as he thought. and you simply can’t have that.

during the next session, you find some time to slip away to the restroom and set up a game plan for yourself. how could you tell wooyoung you know he likes you? how do you tell him you think you might like him too?

all of this is swirling around your head when you crash straight on into a strong chest that steadies you immediately. wooyoung’s signature giggle lets you know your target is closer than you thought, and you look up at him innocently as he looks down with a smile in return. 

“hi,” he says simply.

“hi,” you respond, and there’s a beat of silence while you process how close you are and the fact that wooyoung hasn’t let go of you yet. you look up at him and glance down at his lips, deciding in the moment this is what you need to do. you peck him quickly, just to see if you could, and when he looks at you with those big, surprised eyes of his, you lean back in and do it again, but this time you mean it. when you pull away the second time you detangle yourself from wooyoung as he’s left blabbering about what just happened. you give him a quick “bye!” in response, and then you’re gone. 

-

after you kissed wooyoung, you half expected him to tell kyungmin since he’s been so involved in your friendship lately. but the little guy doesn’t say anything or act differently the last two days of vbs, so that’s good. wooyoung does, however. suddenly he’s not bothering you as much. in fact, he’s not bothering you at all, and that’s incredibly out of character. you realize the last two days are going by so slowly because you don’t have wooyoung breaking up the day by asking you a stupid question or blatantly flirting with you, and you miss it. the first day post kiss he was almost business like dropping kyungmin off and picking him up, and that was really weird. the last day was a little better, he at least joked with you this morning, but nothing since. you’re wondering how you can get a chance to talk to him before the day is over, but then you remember you have snack at the same time today. so that means you’ can ambush him on your way to the snack room in hopes that he’ll at least acknowledge you exist again. 

when it nears the end of the day and you’re dropping your kids off at their snack area, you step to the side and wait in the hallway so you can see wooyoung coming. when you hear his boisterous voice coming closer, you act like you’re looking for something in the bag they give to each leader, and when wooyoung rounds the corner you look up and stop him.

“hey! do you have any extra bandaids?” you ask him. “i’ve got a kid with a paper cut and i’m fresh out.”

“uh, lemme check,” he says, patting his pockets quickly.

“you don’t have the bag?”

“if we were paired together, would you trust me to keep track of the bag all week?”

“valid point,” you reply. “so i’m guessing you don’t have one?”

“nope, i do,” he says, pulling the ziploc of bandages out of his back pocket. “just one?”

“yeah, i just need it to shut the kid up until his dad comes to get him,” you explain.

“he’s a whiner?” wooyoung asks, and you nod. he hands you the bag and you dip back into the snack room to find the kid (you really did need a bandaid) and you’re back outside in seconds. wooyoung is waiting for you, hands in his pockets and a sheepish smile on his face.

“thanks,” you say, handing him the bag as you start the walk to the volunteer snack room. 

“sure,” he says, and you fall into an awkward silence. it’s not a long walk to the snack room, and you want to get something out of him before there’s a bunch of people around so you stop abruptly and wooyoung follows suit.

“sorry, but i have to ask,” you start. “did i kiss you wrong? i mean, wait, sorry. was me kissing you wrong? should i not have done that? because now you’re acting all weird.”

“so you noticed something was up?” wooyoung asks shyly. “sorry about that.”

“it’s ok,” you tell him. “just give me a clue as to whether or not i just messed up by doing that.”

“no, it was good,” he assures you. “very good. nice. it was nice. i liked it.”

“ok, good.”

“i’d like to do it again.”

“right now?” you ask. “the kids could see us, and you know we’d never live that down.”

“no, not now,” he laughs. “but later. eventually. if you want to.”

“definitely,” you nod. “but not at church?”

“not at church,” he confirms. “the lord is watching.”

“that’s pervy of him,” you say, making wooyoung let out an elmo pitched laugh. the sound lights you up, like the sun is shining just on you for that moment. you want to make him laugh a million more times just like that. 

“remind me why i like you again?”

-

at the end of the day, kyungmin begs you to get lunch with him and wooyoung again. he’s sad that after today he’ll go back to not seeing you every day, but you assure him you’ll be around, sending a wink up to wooyoung as you say so. 

“actually, i think i’m supposed to babysit you one day this weekend,” you tell kyungmin, and his face lights up.

“really?!”

“yeah, really. your mom asked me about it last night,” you say, and wooyoung looks confused but you don’t notice because kyungmin is literally jumping with glee.

“i can show you all my TOYS and we can watch my favorite MOVIE and can we get pizza? mom lets me get pizza when there’s a babysitter, i swear!” 

“calm down, buckoo, we’ll see what happens,” you laugh. “but i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

“ok!” kyungmin shouts happily, and he runs off to say goodbye to his friends, leaving you with wooyoung. 

“who knew my little brother would take you from me the weekend i wanted to ask you out,” he says with a smirk, pulling you in for a proper church side hug. he places his lips to your forehead ever so lightly as he whispers, “guess i’ll have to tell you about my undying love for you another time.”

and then he pulls away, waving over his shoulder as he walks off to find his brother. you’re left sputtering, much like wooyoung was the other day after you kissed him, and you have to reset before you remember how to act like a human again. 

-

it doesn’t feel like long before saturday night comes around and you find yourself heading to the jung residence. vbs wore you out so bad that you cancelled plans with friends last night so you could just sleep the week off, and you barely feel rested enough to be around kyungmin for a few hours now, even if he is one of your favorite people. 

it’s been ages since you’ve been to their house, too, so it feels a little weird walking up the path to their front door. it seems oddly quiet, but you pay no mind as you reach for the doorbell and...wooyoung? answers the door. 

“what?” you ask, surprised. “sorry, where’s your mom? she said you were all going to a wedding tonight and...” you trail off, thinking back to what ms. jung really said. “the wedding is next weekend, isn’t it?”

“no, really?” wooyoung asks in fake shock. “that would explain why my family went to the beach for the weekend.”

“really?” you ask, and wooyoung nods. “why didn’t you go?”

“i wanted to see your face when you realized you had the weekends wrong.”

“no, seriously,” you laugh as you push his arm, and he shrugs.

“i needed to rest, honestly,” he says. “and spending most of the weekend in the car with my family is not my idea of rest. laying in my bed for 12 hours straight is, however.”

“that sounds nice,” you say wistfully, thinking about how warm your bed was before you had to leave to come here. 

“it is,” wooyoung agrees. “wanna try it for yourself?”

“are you inviting me up to your room, jung wooyoung?” you ask in disbelief, and wooyoung simply quirks an eyebrow before disappearing into the house, giving you no choice but to follow him and close the door behind you.

the last time you were here, kyungmin was much younger, and wooyoung was still off at school, so his room was converted into min’s vacation home. seeing it in wooyoung’s style was a stark difference, but it made you smile to see this detail of his life. you note the movie posters plastered on the wall, laughing at the childish posters they’re obviously covering up.

“was that your toy story poster or kyungmin’s?” you tease.

“hey, that was a great franchise,” he scolds, finger pointing at you and hand on hip accordingly. “stop standing there so awkward, come inside.”

“sorry,” you laugh nervously. “what should we do?”

“wanna watch a movie?”

“how bout toy story?”

“okay, never mind, you can leave,” wooyoung says as he pushes you toward the door, and you push back. you both lose your footing, and you tumble into his chest, but thankfully wooyoung catches you. you brace yourself on his chest and look up at him with a smile.

“hi.”

“hi,” he smiles back. “deja vu.”

“yeah,” you laugh, holding his gaze for a moment before glancing down to his mouth. this time though, wooyoung makes the first move, cupping your cheek and bringing your lips to his. it’s tentative at first, but the more you lean into it the more you enjoy it. you catch wooyoung smiling into the kiss before you pull back to take a breath. you share a look with wooyoung before you both dive back in, this kiss different from the others. this one is hungry, wooyoung’s gripping your face with both hands, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he doesn’t keep you right here in his grasp. he licks at your lip, and you let him in, moaning softly when his tongue explores your mouth. you pull back briefly and ask, “still wanna watch that movie?”

“hell no,” he growls into your mouth, and then he separates from you for a moment, staring deep into your eyes. “let me make love to you.”

“wooyoung, i-”

“please,” he begs. “i’ve loved you for so long i don’t think i could put it into words. let me show you how i feel. please.”

“ok,” you nod, pecking his lips sweetly before connecting your forehead to his. “but when you’re ready i’d really like to hear about this whole you loving me thing. i’ll do my best to explain me loving you, too.”

“it’s a date,” he says with a smile that reaches his eyes, and it’s like the warmth radiating from that smile transfers to you through every spot where your bodies are connected. wooyoung is your little piece of sunshine here on earth, and he’s about to show you why you should never let him go.

he starts with a tender kiss, cupping the back of your head to angle you just right so he can pick up where he left off. his other hand slides down your arm and settles on your waist, giving it a squeeze before backing you up to his bed. the back of your knees hit the mattress and he helps you lay down gently, asking you to crawl up the bed while he takes off his shirt. when he settles above you, your hands graze his abdomen and he giggles as he leans in for another kiss.

“tickles,” he whispers, and you pull your hands from his waist to wrap around his neck as you deepen the kiss. wooyoung’s hands slide under your shirt, tracing lines over your hips and you gasp when they travel further and trace lines over your stomach. wooyoung pulls back to tug at your shirt and you nod, helping him slide it off your arms. he helps you out of your bra next, gluing his eyes to your chest and how delicate you look beneath him. 

“i’m up here,” you tease, and wooyoung tears his eyes from your tits for a second to roll his eyes at you.

“yeah, but i’ve seen your face like a million times,” he scoffs. “let me look at your boobs a little bit more.”

“how romantic.”

“shut up,” he mumbles into your chest, kissing from your collarbone and further down. he stops to place a kiss around each breast, sucking on your nipples to get them hard before he continues down. he’s kissing across your stomach and you hope he can’t feel the butterflies in there threatening to break out. he keeps going, and you know where he’s going to end up. after placing a final kiss under your belly button, he looks up at you and you tell him to keep going. he’s barely done anything and you’re already breathless. he kisses along the waistband of your panties, and instead of taking them off like you expected, he continues down to place kisses over your covered core, drawing out whimpers from you the more he focuses on your pussy without making actual contact.

“wooyoung don’t tease,” you whine, and he shakes his head.

“nope, gotta take it slow or it won’t be right,” he tells you. he places one more kiss on your clothed clit before pulling your panties to the side. he ghosts his finger over your folds before rubbing lightly at your clit, and you gasp at the contact. he lets his hand go further, finding your entrance where he collects some of your arousal before finding your clit again. he looks up as you let out another breathless gasp and asks, “you doin okay up there?”

“mhm,” you squeak out. “want more though.”

“greedy baby,” he smirks, replacing his hand with his lips as he kisses at your nub. his hand trails back down and strokes into you softly, and your hips keen at the feeling. he pumps his finger a few times before adding another, mumbling against your pussy that you’re doing so well. he starts curling his fingers inside you, tearing a moan from deep within your chest. you realize you’re closer than you’d like to admit, because you don’t want him to stop. at the same time, you think you might die if wooyoung doesn’t make you come soon.

“faster please,” you whine, bucking your hips again to get a little more friction. wooyoung takes the hint and picks up the pace, pumping into you faster and lapping at your clit in a way that has your legs shaking. he keeps going, and just when you’re about to warn him of your release he adds a third finger, stretching you so well that you come with a silent scream, his name squeaking out at the end as he watches in awe. 

“you’re beautiful,” he whispers, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you come down. 

“come up here and say that to my face,” you challenge him, and he wastes no time climbing back up the bed and trapping your lips in another kiss. you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, his tongue venturing past your lips in a heated kiss. he pulls away for a moment to whisper again.

“you’re beautiful,” he says, holding eye contact with you long enough for you to get shy from the attention. it’s like he’s looking straight into your soul and you’re a little afraid of what he might find in there. 

“what happened to you making love to me?” you ask, breaking him out of his concentrated gaze. you watch as he snaps out of it in real time, and he gets up quickly to rid himself of his pants and his boxers. you didn’t notice how hard he was before now, but it must have been painful. his tip is so red, and the veins are so prominent that you catch yourself staring only to be interrupted by wooyoung’s own hand pumping himself a few times for relief. “hey, let me do that.”

“no, need to find a condom,” he says through gritted teeth. “need to be inside you like right now.”

“we don’t need one,” you tell him, and he stands completely still. his eyes find yours and he quirks an eyebrow.

“we don’t need one?”

“no,” you almost whine. “i’m clean. i trust you. i’ve got protection. please just have sex with me.”

“i love you so much,” wooyoung says in one breath, basically pouncing back on top of you to reconnect your lips. he mumbles in between rushed kisses “i’m clean too, by the way,” and you just nod and urge him to get to it.

you both watch as wooyoung pulls back and guides his tip to your core, rubbing against your clit so deliciously it has you moaning pathetically, begging him to fuck you already. he slides between your lips a few times before guiding himself to your dripping entrance, and he slides in with ease. he bottoms out completely before letting out a moan of his own, and he stills for a moment so you can adjust. you take a moment and nod, reaching down to squeeze his hip to let him know he can continue. he pulls back with a shaky breath and bottoms out once again, trying his best to hit your innermost wall with each thrust, it seems. he’s so deep, and he settles so that he’s holding himself above you in the perfect position to connect with your g-spot every time he pumps in. he spends plenty of time thrusting all the way in and pulling out as much as he can, but you’re clenching around him so well there’s no way he’s going to last. he pumps in one more time before he stills, making sure to take deep breaths to calm himself down. 

“are you okay?” you ask, worried at his sudden change. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong baby,” he assures you. “you’re just so warm. and tight. don’t think i can take it much longer.”

“come whenever you’re ready,” you tell him. “i wanna feel you.”

“you’re literally perfect, did you know that?” he asks before ducking down to bury his head in your neck. he lazily kisses at your skin as he fucks back into you, his thrusts a little shorter and sloppier but still perfect. you wrap a leg around his waist to keep him from going too far, and you grab for one of his hands to reconnect with your clit as you warn him that you’re close. 

“i’m almost there,” you gasp, hips rising to chase every touch. “wanna come with you.”

“okay, shit. warn me before you do, i’ll pull out-”

“no.”

“no?”

“i said i wanna feel you,” you say sternly, pulling his chin up to look in his eyes. “give me everything you’ve got baby.”

“really?” he asks, hips picking up speed again until he’s fucking you so fast that you’re practically bouncing on his cock. “that’s so hot, y/n. gonna give you everything. gonna start a family with you one day, gonna come, fuck-”

“wooyoung, i’m coming,” you whine as he picks up speed rubbing your clit and his hips give you one final thrust that sends you over the edge. it feels like every ounce of you is on fire, and the warmth radiating off wooyoung and shooting into your core heightens your senses so you feel everything ten times more. wooyoung pumps into you slowly, riding out the end of his release. he’s pushing his come back into you as it falls out, and he groans at the sight, getting turned on again. 

“how soon can you do that again?” he asks sheepishly, and you shake your head. he falls to your side as he waits for your response.

“gimme a few,” you reply. “you took my breath away.”

“okay,” he says, propping his head up on your shoulder. “i’ll be here.”

you lay still for a moment, eyes closed and focused on regulating your breathing. it’s in this silence that something wooyoung says passes through your mind again, and you decide you should address it now.

“wooyoung?”

“yeah?”

“did you say you wanna make a family with me?”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“i didn’t think you’d remember that,” he says shyly, and you laugh at the blush gracing his cheeks.

“it just happened!” you shriek. “what, you thought your dick was so good i’d completely block out what you were saying?”

“a little?”

“so obviously you’ve thought about this a lot,” you say, getting back on topic. “about us?”

“yep.”

“and what will our kids be named?”

“i dunno.”

“yes you do,” you insist, rolling onto your side to look at him directly. “tell me.”

“later,” he says, pecking your lips sweetly. “i think there was mention of a round two?”

-

due to no fault of your own, you ended up spending the night at wooyoung’s house. you were honestly so tired you didn’t want to leave anyway, so when he offered to make you breakfast in the morning you couldn’t pass it up. 

spending the night also gave you a chance to be intimate with wooyoung in another way. after the promised second round (and maybe a third in the shower) he helped you get ready for bed, offering up his comfiest clothes and insisting on helping you get dressed and into bed. he wrapped you up in the covers just to mess them up as he wormed his way under the blankets right next to you, immediately wrapping himself around you and burying his head in your chest. you absentmindedly played with his hair as you talked quietly, and the topic of feelings came up again. 

you already knew how wooyoung felt, so it was really your turn to grab the mic, but wooyoung being ever the gentleman assured you he didn’t need a love confession just because you had slept together. he was okay with waiting for you to process as long as you’d agree to be with him while that happened. 

you easily fell asleep, tired and at peace in wooyoung’s arms, but when you woke up the next day to an empty bed you panicked. almost as if he knew you were awake, wooyoung poked his head into the room a few minutes later and reminded you of the meal he promised you, asking how you wanted your coffee. he scoffed when you didn’t say cold and straight black (like him) but he still took extra care to make it just right for you. it takes you another minute to get the will to get out of bed, but when you make it downstairs to the kitchen you’re left speechless. 

“you did all this for me?” you ask quietly, noticing the pancakes, eggs, sausage and the assortment of cereal boxes wooyoung laid out in case you wanted something really sweet. there was a bowl of fresh strawberries, your carefully crafted coffee, and a beautiful vase of flowers too. 

“i was hungry too,” wooyoung shrugs. “so i thought i’d do it right.”

“you’re so concerned with doing things right around me,” you start, “you know you don’t need to do all of this to impress me.”

“but i want to,” he pouts. “i’m tinkerbell, i live off of attention.”

“that explains so much.”

“just shut up and eat.”

you do just that, forgetting that wooyoung is probably one of the best cooks you know. maybe he is tinkerbell because he did something magic to those pancakes.

“what did you put in these to make them so good?” you ask, pointing to your plate.

“love,” he replies with a dreamy sigh and you laugh, but wooyoung was being serious.

“oh come on, tell me,” you whine. “cinnamon? vanilla?”

“not everyone knows this but love is in fact cinnamon flavored,” wooyoung says matter of factly. 

“you’re annoying.”

“you like it though, admit it!” he says, pushing your shoulder. “you wouldn’t have been my friend for so long if i annoyed you that bad, and you definitely wouldn’t be dating me if i annoyed you so much.”

“wait, so are we dating?” you ask, and he nods in confirmation. “we haven’t had a real date though.”

“um? i took you to mcdonald’s.”

“yeah, with your little brother,” you laugh. “that’s not a real date. that’s like a trial run.”

“for when we have kids.”

“sure, but that’s not a real date,” you say again. “you need to plan something.”

“why do i need to plan it?!”

“because i kissed you first, so it’s your move, jung.”

“that doesn’t make sense.”

“too bad,” you say as you pop a strawberry in your mouth. “think of something good, my little chef.”

wooyoung falls silent as he thinks about what he could plan, and this gives you a chance to look at the clock.

“oh shit, i need to go home,” you say quickly. “i have to meet my friends for lunch.”

“and leave me here all alone?” wooyoung pouts, and you kiss him to make it go away.

“yep, sorry sweets. it’ll give you more time to plan the perfect date,” you say with a wink as you head to the stairs to grab your things from wooyoung’s room.

“hey!” wooyoung calls out as you’re collecting your clothes (but conveniently keeping the hoodie he let you borrow). wooyoung appears at the door and leans against the frame as he continues. “you know what i just thought about?”

“hm?”

“kyungmin is gonna be so thrilled we’re finally together,” he says, and you smile. 

“he sure put in work to get us here, didn’t he?”

“yeah, that little rascal,” wooyoung shakes his head. you stop, making sure you have everything before you walk to the door and put your hand on wooyoung’s cheek. he leans into your touch and you smile, giving him one last kiss.

“i’ll see you later?” you ask, and he nods.

“can we do what we did here but at your place?” wooyoung asks hopefully, and you pretend to think about it.

“if you tell me what you put in the pancakes, then yes.” 

“it was brown sugar,” he says quickly, pulling you closer to him by your hips. “so i’ll see you tonight?”

“sure,” you laugh, kissing him one last time. “see you later, love.”

[renardiererin]

two: vicious

you dated rintarou suna for a little over a year. everything was so picture perfect-- retrospectively staged to get you too caught up in his shallow, strategized acts of "affection" to notice what kind of a guy he really is. he's in a band; a pretty popular one, at that. he's the lead singer/guitarist, and half the internet is in love with him. every red flag you excused as typical male behavior. every problematic response to a fan's message or an article making him look bad, you just brushed off as the hate getting to him. you kept trying to look for the best in the worst, but every time you defended him it just turned the hate towards you. it caused quite the commotion. after you broke up, you decided to be private about it. keep your feelings to yourself-- and your best friend who came over with ice cream every night for 15 straight days-- and quietly carried the burden of the relationship you devoted an entire year of your life to. he started going to therapy, as per your advice, and started being nicer to his fanbase. all of it was forced by his management team to stop the bad press he was getting left and right, and it worked. the world stopped fighting against him, and he turned into a rock god. beloved by people all around the planet. he turns up at hospitals every couple of weeks to hang out with his fans there in order to make himself look good-- he won't do it if there's no press--, he started donating to charities, advocating for climate change (and by advocating, he was just reposting shit on his social media. hey, at least he's using his platform!), etc. the world treated him like an angel. you're not so sure that's true, though. you knew him for three years despite only dating for one, and you know rintarou like the back of your hand. if he's an angel, he's lucifer on a redemption arc. rintarou suna is the most cunning, machiavellian, cryptic, self-motivated, vicious man you've ever known. every girl he's seen with in public-- and it's a new one every week-- all have reputations for being "smart," yet all of them clearly neglect intuition if they're dating somebody like him. he's called you drunk a couple times since the breakup, whenever he gets insecure, and always ends the voicemail by pouting about how you don't love him and then some girl is pictured half naked leaving his house the next morning. he just runs to whoever's convenient. it's like he doesn't remember that night when he said it was you and him for life, because now he's kind of acting like you died. he stopped reaching out, moved on with his life after a week or two, and when he gets asked about your breakup in interviews he just furrows his eyebrows and says: "i'm sorry, who?" it's like he doesn't even feel remorseful. does he really regret nothing? maybe he doesn't think he hurt you. he wrote one song about the breakup, ending with the closing line: "wish you the best," so maybe he thinks that's his apology and you've forgiven him. maybe you were only the next one of his victims to take his love songs as a promise. you really just feel sorry for whatever girl he chooses to take advantage of next, because when she breaks he won't come back to pick up the pieces.

masterlist

taglist: @alienvarmint @kiyoily (raine ik you didnt actually ask but i <3 u so youre here anyway)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Only Yesterday 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, voyeurism, intimidation, isolation, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Isolated and lonely in your life as your grandmother’s caretaker, you find yourself living vicariously through your neighbour.

Character: Nick Fowler

Note: A special thank you for those who waited on this. I was like tripping myself out about this.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like a love song, baby. Take care. 💖

You put a coaster down before you set down the glass of water. The apartment door is propped open, letting in the stuffy air from the hallway as Nick carries in his tools. While you still don’t believe him, he’s committed a lot to keeping up his ploy. He is actually going to clean the windows and for that you won’t complain.

“Dearie?” Your grandmother calls from her bedroom as Nick nears you.

You go to brush by but he fills the space with his body. You recoil and step back, folding your arms under your chest. “Excuse me.”

“I figure clean windows are in high demand,” he muses as he bends his knees to put down the bucket and the heavy bag. He stands, an intimidating figure that has you wanting to cower in his shadow, “easier to see… won’t have to go out on the balcony.”

“Please,” you breathe.

“Did you enjoy the show?”

“Stop. It was a mistake. A bad judgment–”

“How long were you out there, hm? How much did you see?”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to. I should’ve gone inside sooner. I’m sorry.”

He chuckles and it only stirs your frustration.

“I know you're not who you say you are but you don’t have to do this. I’m very sorry.”

He hooks his thumbs in the loops on his jeans and leans in, “did you like what you saw?”

“What?”

“Come on, admit it. It’s lonely here with just the old lady, isn’t it?”

As if on cue, your grandmother calls for you again. “One second, nan,” you call back and try to move past Nick.

“Wait,” he grabs your arm, “I didn’t get to the most important question.”

“Let go,” you hiss as you try to shrug him off.

“Should I fuck you on the balcony too? Or do you think someone will see us?”

You scoff and shove him away. You let out a noise of disgust and elbow past him. You rush down the hall, wiping the sweat from the back of your neck. He’s just taunting. He’s not serious. He just wants to see you suffer, then you’re sure he’ll leave you alone.

You enter your grandmother’s room. She’s on her bed looking gaunt. She has a dress sprawled out beside her as she tries to catch her breath.

“Dear, won’t you help me get dressed? We do have company and all.”

“Yes, nan,” you go forward and pick up the dress. It’s a violet piece with roses patterned across it and a lacy collar.

“Did you get that man a drink?”

“Of course, nan.”

“Of course?” She blusters, “she says as if she hasn’t forgotten her manners.”

“I’m sorry, nan, I was just surprised by the man, that’s all.”

“You must be nicer,” she girds you as you unbutton the back of the dress, “you’ll never catch a husband the way you are.”

You sigh but don’t respond. You’ve had this conversation before. Not just with her, your parents are particularly fond of the topic. You won’t repeat yourself again and again.

“Put your arms up,” you move in front of her, “let’s get this on.”

She does as you say and you get one sleeve on then the other, pulling the collar past her head. You’re not very worried about her marital concerns, you’re much more bothered by the man you can hear in the front room. 

🪟

Nick wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his head. You can see it dampening the fabric of his ill-fitting shirt and beads of it in his dark hair. He retracts the long squeegee and squeezes out the excess water.

“All done,” he declares, “I’ll just dump this and pack up–”

“Oh, it looks wonderful,” your nan preens, fixing her glasses, “I can see the birds now.”

You don’t say anything. Her intonation is clear. The windows were dirty before, neglected. You stare at the wall, refusing to speak to either of them.

“Thanks, ma’am,” Nick says as he uses his arms to wipe away more sweat, “last call of the day, think I got the hang of it.”

“Ah, yes, what is the time?” Nan searches until her eyes focus on the hanging cuckoo clock, “why, dearie, it’s been such a long day, I’m sure you’re starving from all that hard work. Why don’t you stay for supper?”

“Nan,” you hiss, stunned by her invitation. Ever since her episode, she’s been less than fond of other people.

“It would be rude to let the man go with an empty stomach,” she insists, “in my day, we wouldn’t dare–”

“I couldn’t impose,” Nick says gallantly.

“Impose?” Your grandmother waves her hand at him, “I couldn’t send you off without showing our gratitude. Oh my, look at you, sir,” she leans forward and blinks through her lenses, “honey, why don’t you fetch him one of your grandfather’s shirts?”

You look at Nick. He’s playing up the flattery. How could you do this? How could you have drawn this man into your grandmother’s home?

“Really, that’s so generous…” he begins.

“Now, sir, I must insist,” she says, “were my mother still alive, she’d be appalled to think I wouldn’t even offer you a meal. Even during the depression, she’d offer the farmhand a plate at the table.”

He smiles and you glance at Nan. Her mind is set. For the first time in a long time, she is putting her foot down. It’s a glimmer of the old matriarch that once held it all together. You resign yourself with a repressed sigh and as you stand, surrendering, Nick’s cheek dimples in victory.

You go down the hall and into your grandmother’s room. Hung in her closet are several of your grandfather’s old shirts. She refused to let them go, they made it past the culling of her life’s collection. You take out a short-sleeve button up in a brown and yellow plaid. It will look ridiculous on him.

You go back to the front room as Nick puts the empty bucket by the door and moves his bag beside it. He stretches as he stands at the end of the entryway, causing you to graze against him as you pass. You can smell his sweat and the tinge of his cologne.

“Here,” you push the shirt against his chest gruffly, checking that Nan isn’t looking.

“You mind if I wash up a bit?” He slithers as he grabs your hand around the shirt.

“Of course, dear,” Nan chimes back, “honey, why don’t you check the pantry?”

She reaches for her walker as Nick clings to you. You stare him down as he squeezes with all his strength. You gulp. He is terrifyingly strong. The tip of his tongue points out as he lets out a deep exhale. Finally, you rip away from him.

“Nan, be careful,” you spin and rush to her as she tries to stand. “I can take care of dinner.”

“Don’t baby me,” she grips her walker, “I can manage to put water in a pot.”

“I’m not, Nan…”

“I’ll let you ladies figure it out,” Nick excuses himself with a coy lilt and you listen to his footfalls trail down the hall.

You huff and help Nan steady herself. You follow her to the kitchen as she clacks her walker ahead of her. As she goes to the fridge, you stand tenuously in the doorway, glancing back towards the hall. You hear the bathroom faucet squeak and the pipes hum.

“Do you recall how to make chicken croquettes? I showed you when you were a girl, didn’t I?” She leans between her walker and the fridge door, “we’ll need the cream of celery from the pantry–”

“Yes, Nan, I remember,” you sniff and cross your arms, “let me get you a chair.”

“I am just fine,” she takes out the package of chicken and hobbles to place it on the counter. “Why don’t you go put some lipstick on?”

You furrow your brow as she faces you. What?

“Don’t make that face, it’s not very pretty,” she girds.

“Nan,” you reproach, “please–”

“He’s a very handsome fellow,” she trills, “I think he likes you.”

“I don’t wear lipstick.”

“You can use some of mine,” she suggests.

“I’ll grab the cream of celery,” you say.

She clucks and shakes her head. If only she knew. If only you weren’t a coward.

🪟

Nick sits at the table. The brown shirt strains across his broad shoulders and his hair is tidy. You can tell he wetted it and smooth it out from the humid curl that formed during his work. Nan lets you sit her down with him once the chicken is in the oven.

You busy yourself with the sides as the main cooks. Mashed potatoes and some peas. Plain. Nothing special.

You peek in as you hear her talking to him, regalling him with tales of her youth. He humours her well but it lends you little comfort. There’s a sinister tint to every word. He is being nice, but you know well he can be mean.

The oven dings and you portion out three plates. You just want this over with. You want the man gone. 

You bring out two plates, one for your nan, the other for the intruder. You go back to reclaim your own before joining them at the table. It’s unusual. It’s been months since you sat down for a meal like this and with the extra body, you feel even more upended.

“Isn’t this nice?” Nan beams.

“I can get your chicken,” you offer and use your knife and fork to cut up her piece. She lets you but you see the glint of humiliation in her.

“My granddaughter has a degree,” she chimes proudly, “did you know that, sir?”

“I didn’t,” he says.

“She’s very smart. And so helpful. She came to live with me to keep me company,” she continues, “and she’s not very old. Not too old.”

“Nan,” you pull your utensils away and turn to your own plate.

“She’s a bit shy,” she whispers loudly behind her hand.

Nick chuckles as he takes his fork and knife. You poke at the potatoes, drawing lines through the mash with the tines.

“And I see you have no ring,” Nan grins.

“Please–”

“I’m flattered, miss,” Nick smiles, “really, but I’d hate to be too forward. Your granddaughter…” he pauses and looks at you, “is very nice.”

“Isn’t she?” Nan sings.

Your eyes round and you stare at the wall. This isn’t happening. She isn’t trying to set you up with someone. The proudest she’s ever sounded of you and it’s trying to barter you off like cattle.

“Hon,” she looks at you, “why don’t you tell him about your degree? She loves books, you know?”

You cringe and shove your mouth full of potatoes and shrug. Nan’s smile falls and she manages to kick you with her toe. You gulp and make yourself look at Nick. He wears a taunting smirk.

“I did literature,” you say plainly, “nothing very exciting, like most girls, I was an Austen fanatic.”

“Austen…” he mulls it over, “I read Pride and Prejudice in school. Not bad.”

You nod. Really? You can’t imagine him doing that.

“I’m afraid it’s all my fault,” Nan chuckles, “I gave her a few books when she was young and she ran away with it.”

You twirl your fork nervously as Nick’s eyes drift away from you slowly, “can’t blame her. All that romance, bound to draw you in.”

🪟

You clear up after dinner as your grandmother continues to chatter. It’s been ages since she’s been this lively. You would be elated if it was for any other reason than that man.

You pack up the leftovers and rinse off the dishes. As you tidy up the counters, there’s a sudden silence that makes your heart drop. You hear Nan groaning oddly. You rush over to look in on her as she slumps at the table.

Nick stands and hurries over before you can reach her.

“Wait, be careful,” you gird.

He sits her up as she lets out a gasp, “dearie me,” her glasses hang at an angle, “I think I’ve overdone myself.”

“Nan,” you come close, forgetting about the man, not worrying about how close he is, “what happened?”

“Just a dizzy spell,” she assures, “must be my meds.”

“Just– I should call Doctor Harmon.”

“At this hour, don’t be silly,” she chides as Nick holds her up. If he didn’t have a hand on her shoulder, you’re certain she’d be on the floor, “I just need to lay down for the night. Have my tea.”

“Alright,” you acquiesce and drag her walker to her, “come on.”

You elbow Nick away and get your arm around Nan as you turn her in the chair. You lift her and try to get her feet set. Her legs are jelly and you nearly drop her. He quickly swoops in and catches her, scooping her up with almost no effort.

“Here, I’ll help,” he always has her in his arms. She looks even frailer cradled against his chest. “Show me where to take her.”

You stop and look at him. Nan murmurs and rests her head against him. You point him down the hall, “her bedroom is at the end.”

He goes ahead of you and carries her down to her room. You trail him and watch him lower onto the bed with care. You cross your arms as he backs up.

“Nan, I’ll get the tea on and come back to help you into your nightgown,” you promise.

“Such a gentleman,” she taps Nick’s cheek as he pulls away, “you be sure you offer him some dessert.”

You shrug her off and point Nick out of the room. He struts out, eyes boring into you until you draw the door shut behind him. You turn to face him in the cramped space of the hall. You don’t know what to say or do. He needs to leave but you know telling him won’t do much.

“What’s for dessert?” He asks.

[utilitycaster]

What are some of your favourite podcasts / podcast recs?

It's hard to pick a favorite though I will say at the moment Midst is the one I think I look forward to the most, so I'm just going to go through basically all podcasts I currently or relatively recently previously listened to and sort them by rough genre. Note that as with all recommendation requests it helps to know the vibe of what you're going for and what's important to you (I know I just was like hey I'll take most music recs but the commitment for music is like the length of a song, whereas podcasts/books/movies/tv are a bit more time put in)

Actual Play:

Longtime listener of NADDPod and TAZ which I'm guessing if you follow me you are broadly aware of but if not feel free to ask more; I also post about Worlds Beyond Number enough that you might know what it is. I checked out Burnt Cookbook party a while ago both because I liked Jenna Stoeber's work with Polygon and because someone asked me for Actual Play podcast-only recs with more than one woman or nb player that weren't RQG and I was like oh I should find some. Anyway it's quite good! it's definitely lower production values than bigger podcasts but the plot is highly original and really good, the vibes are fantastic, the characters are a lot of fun, and all in all worth checking out. I also do listen to the Re-Slayer's Take which I've really enjoyed! Everyone's good but while I was familiar with (and a fan of) Jasmine Bhullar and Jasper William Cartwright's work, Jasmine Chiong as Farah speaks to the Grouchy Old Hunter Woman fan in me and has been a personal standout. It is very heavily edited, which does take some getting used to. Also, I mentioned RQG (Rusty Quill Gaming). It comes with the caveat of "very good but slow to start and then doesn't really stick the landing, imo, though the epilogues help" but I can recommend with that warning.

Scripted Fiction

Camlann. Modern post-apocalyptic Arthuriana/Folklore of the British Isles, with some hints of other folklore as well. 1 season; hoping they get funding for a second because it was very well done and also I want Gwen and Morgan to kiss.

Midst. Hard to describe but if you follow me you've seen a lot of posts that might help. Extremely good! About to finish in a bit over a week's time! Check it out and I advice you check out the first 3 episodes at once to get a feel for it; the three-narrator thing is also "get used to it and it will be fine".

The Penumbra Podcast. Originally envisioned as an anthology podcast but then two specific settings (noir-y space opera and medieval court monster hunters) were very popular. Also nearing its end.

The Silt Verses. Quite literally everything on this list would be described as "New Weird" and "has queer characters" and this is maybe the New Weirdest. Anyway, set in a world where gods are real, require human sacrifice to live, and society is both very complicit and also uses the gods to sell shit. I think people who are mad about D20 or CR not being explicitly political enough should listen to it. Extremely good. Also in its endgame, but they've had a very drawn out schedule as of late.

Welcome to Night Vale. You are on Tumblr; presumably you know the drill. I can't say I'm like...super following what happens but it's one of those things that's been a constant in my life for over a decade and takes up a very pleasant hour-ish per month. This feels like damning with faint praise but the earlier stuff was great and it's still strong, it's just, you know, the inevitable slowness of an indefinitely long slice-of-life-ish show vs. the more plot-driven ones above.

Within the Wires. By one of the Night Vale Creators. I have a post about it but it's set on an alternate history Earth where a cataclysmic war/plague/various other bad things absolutely destroyed the population in the early 1900s, leading to a very different global society. Some people say the seasons are very uneven in quality. They are incorrect. The seasons follow different people and all are in the form of found audio, so they are all quite different, but it's entirely a matter of personal preference if you like a season or not; it's not that some are Objectively Better.

Wolf 359 finished a long time back and I haven't relistened since my original listen in like...2018, but of "podcasts that have finished" it's worth it. Weird space stuff.

Informative(?)

Home Cooking by Hrishikesh Hirway and Samin Nosrat; was a pandemic project that now only airs yearly, really, but worth checking out if you like cooking.

I found out about Home Cooking via Song Exploder, which is just Hrishikesh Hirway talking about songs. Great podcast; the editing is fascinating and I have found a lot of good music from it!

I Only Listen to the Mountain Goats. Has only two seasons but they are both very good if you like The Mountain Goats as a band.

No Such Thing as a Fish: the QI (British quiz show) (if you're British you know this better than I do) researches talk about weird facts and riff on them.

Sawbones: Justin McElroy and his wife Dr. Sydnee Smirl McElroy talk about weird medical history and dumb wellness trends on tiktok. This is one of the earliest podcasts I subscribed to back when I did not drive nearly as much.

The Anthropocene Reviewed by John Green. Has also completed and there's a book that's basically covering the same ground. It's not like, purely informative; it's very anecdotal (as is I Only Listen to the Mountain Goats) but I learned a lot from it.

Honorable mention: I just didn't have the time or energy to keep up with Ologies by Alie Ward but what I listened to was fun and interesting and my sibling is a big fan.

Comedy and Miscellany:

Beef and Dairy Network: also British, on the Max Fun network with the McElroys. Fucking weird. I debated putting this in the scripted fiction because it's basically "what if Welcome to Night Vale was a little less story focused but still had throughlines and was specifically about the cattle industry in some absurdist alternate version of our world" but stuck with comedy bc the absurdity outstrips the plot. It's weird!

My Brother, My Brother, and Me: you probably know this one; either you love it or you don't.

My Dad Wrote a Porno: also British and from what I understand a bigger deal over there. Has uh. reached completion, in that they decided they were done, but the books apparently go on (sorry Rocky I'm not buying them). A guy and his two good friends read and roast his father's self-published erotica e-books about Belinda Blumenthal, Pots and Pans saleswoman, ft. bad accents, corporate espionage, and, of course, The Duchess.

The Empty Bowl: Justin McElroy and Dan Goubert of Cerealously's ASMR podcast about cereal. legitimately has helped me calm down when anxious at night. I am not even a big cereal eater it's just entertaining and chill.

Anyway any other podcasts I have listened to I've either forgotten, weren't good enough to recommend, just disappeared without any conclusion [*cough* king falls am] or involve way more reservations than I am willing to go into without knowing more about what you are looking for.

[djarins-cyare]

Get to Know Me tag game

Rules: Answer + tag 9 people you want to get to know better and/or catch up with!

Thanks for the tag, @mosssbawls. I'm sorry it took me so long to do this (I literally save everything I'm tagged in until I've got time to do it, lol). Maybe it's been so long that this will restart the tag game??

Favourite colour: Teal when I'm feeling bold, duck egg blue when I want something softer (she says, putting up a pink-themed post).

Last song: It would've been on the radio in the car last night, but I don't remember the last one. I know I was singing along to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman at one point in the journey, so I'll say that.

Currently reading: I'm hopping between some great fanfics right now. Let's see... Lovers' Crest by gingerlurk, Second Chances by DjarinMuse, and Back to You by Kyberblade. All are fabulous!

Currently watching: Well, The Acolyte is premiering… like, now, so despite it being the early hours of the morning here, I’m gonna check it out. Otherwise, I'm rewatching Bones from start to finish (one ep per evening while making dinner), and my current commuting entertainment is The Bad Batch (rewatching season 1 so I can binge seasons 2 and 3). I don't watch nearly as much stuff as I used to; these days I spend most of my time writing.

Currently craving: Sleep! Always tired, never sleeping!

Coffee or tea: I had to give up caffeine last year when dental surgery forced me to drink nothing but water, so neither these days. But I hate the taste of coffee, and I'm British, so I have to pick tea. It’s, like, the law.

I'm going to tag the folks whose fics I'm reading, bc ily guys: @gingerlurk @djarinmuse @kyberblade (no pressure 🫶🏻).

I know the rules say 9 tags, but I'm too tired to choose any more, so anyone else who sees this, consider yourselves tagged!

[brandogenius]

neeed more phoebe and ya similar to spiraling fic i love their relationship so bad

(this has been in my drafts for a while + not proofred. was contemplating on posting it or not but have y’all phoebe & younger artist crumbs)

‼️RPF‼️

ONE SHOT - phoebe & younger artist - frustration

word count: 673

“i can sense tension” you stopped strumming your guitar, hands sweaty, fingers callused, frustration and anxiety settled deep in your chest. phoebe was stood at the opened door to the backstage room, staff and crew were flying past phoebe at a million miles per second, busy and in a hurry to get ready for the show tonight.

“the vision.. isn’t visioning- this stupid guitar” you grumbled, roughly setting the guitar down onto the ground by your feet. your notes app was opened on your phone, disregarded to the side of the couch. phoebe walked over, sitting down beside you. “im sure it is-“

“it’s really not.” you cut phoebe off with a heavy sigh as uou ran a hand through your hair in frustration. it wasn’t working and it had you stressed- nothing was working. everything was wrong. lyrics written in the notes app but no cords or pattern seemed to fit the vibe. you gave up

“the struggles of being a musician. we’ve all been there.” phoebe chuckled to herself. picking up the acoustic guitar and propping it into her lap. she busied herself by messing around with chords she heard you play.

“how can you just..pick up from me and create a good melody? why doesn’t it work for me?” you huffed in defeat, slouching back on the couch, eyes scanning phoebe, analysing what she’s doing.

“practice makes perfect. it’s a cheesy saying but it’s true. every musician gets frustrated or burnt out like you are right now. but, that’s what makes a good musician. progression” she stopped strumming, turning to face you with a serious look on her face.

“you can’t force things to happen. it’ll happen naturally. i usually look at stuff for inspiration. go on writing trips, listen to other music. if i find a song that has a good melody, i’ll write down the chord progressions and take inspiration from them” she turned back to the guitar and started to tune it.

“yeah- i get that. sometimes i just feel like.. i’m not a good musician. nothing works right, lyrics are shitty. i look at other songs by i don’t know- muna and i think woah- how can they do that but i’m here like-“

“i’m stopping you right there, kid” phoebe talked over you, sensing where this is going. “i’m not having a repeat of last month. we do not compare ourselves to other musicians and singers. each to their own uniqueness and individuality” she placed the guitar down, turning to face you directly, sitting criss crossed on the couch.

“yeah but-“

“respectfully dude, shut up. you’re an amazing and super talented singer and musician. you put yourself down too much and i don’t like that. that’s not a healthy mindset to have. comparing yourself to other people isn’t good either.”

you looked down at your hands, picking at the nail polish.

“everyone has their own flaws, i do, you do- julien and lucy do too. you let yourself spiral from overthinking about something small to getting yourself worked up and then put yourself in a bad mood which is not good. you can’t be doing this kid, it’s not good for your mental health”

“i don’t really need a lecture from you” you sighed, looking up and staring at the ceiling.

“i’m not gonna lecture you. im only stating the obvious. you’re young, you have so much ahead of you, so much to live for and see. you don’t need to put yourself down. you don’t understand how cool and talented you are. when i first met you i was like ‘damn, that kid’s cool as heck’ and im right!”

you couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head a bit. phoebe grinned.

“see? i made you laugh” she patted your thigh and stood up. “don’t spiral into negative thoughts alright? if you find yourself doing it, just come talk to me. don’t bottle shit up until you get frustrated and take your anger out on the poor guitar, alright kid?”

“yeah- i guess so”

“good”

[ghoulangerlee]

Mushy May 9 - warming them up

Aeon and Dew navigating the beginnings of their relationship - this is set somewhat shortly after Aeon takes Aether's place in the band. As per usual, my Aeon is pre-summoned, works between the grounds and the infirmary and was hand picked by Aether himself to take his place.

this was a last minute thing so aldkjf please enjoy? <3 special thanks to @forlorn-crows for putting this together. I was too shy to join in on the fun last year.

-

Aeon's hands are a strange amalgamation of warm and cold; his fingertips frigid like ice while his palms get tacky with sweat.

He thinks its mostly to do with his dual lineage; earth and quintessence.

It had never been much of an issue before joining the Ghost project full time; his hands spent most of the time buried in dirt in the gardens or sorting through tools and packaged first aid products in the infirmary.

Playing guitar, by extension, sometimes kept his fingertips from going icy, somewhat numb with it—but it wasn't an all the time thing, he thought, maybe when they'd start the tour, playing outdoors in the sun, he wouldn't have to worry about it, but in the somewhat frigid practice rooms at the church—

"Aeon," Dew's voice is sharp, cuts through his thoughts as he hits another sour chord, "Pay attention, we're trying to get through a new song," he says, trying for patience but coming across a bit mean instead.

Aeon's good at compartmentalizing, mostly, he had to be in the pits, and it's carried over through his summoning and his duties at the church, so when he catches Dew's tone, somewhat annoyed at him, he turns and looks at the fire ghoul, curls his fingers around the neck of his guitar, "Fingers are cold," he says, "Hard to feel where I need to go if I can't feel anything," he shoots back, somewhat snippy.

It's been building between them, since Aether's announcement and him bringing Aeon aboard—he'd searched him out before he'd actually told anyone about his plans, offered up his place and well, Aeon had always loved music, so why wouldn't he take the opportunity?

Dew had been mostly unhappy about it, he wasn't outward about his dislike most of the time, but he made it known in other ways—but again, Aeon had picked up on it after a couple of times, Dew's unhappiness.

He'd even asked about it, but Dew had just waved him off, said something bullshit about creative differences—whatever that meant, and continued on with this somewhat one sided feud.

And well, Aeon hadn't been trying to replace anyone. He'd made it very clear at the beginning, that Aether had asked him to step in, this wasn't Aeon shoving Aether out of the spotlight.

Dew's eyes dart from Aeon's face down to his hands, the dusky color of his skin not giving away the tingling coldness in his fingertips, before Dew's lips curl up into something unpleasant, just as his eyes do something complicated that Aeon can't quite place.

Silences stretches over the practice room, the others had sort of shuffled off to the side, watching carefully, making sure there wasn't anything bad happening, but for the most part keeping out of it, trusting the two of them to deal with their shit in a decent manner.

And then, Dew finally sighs and pulls his guitar off, moving across the room to place it down carefully, "Let's take a break now. Reconvene in about fifteen minutes," he says, his voice tired, so tired.

Aeon removes his guitar as well, placing it down with care—it had been Aether's, one of his spares, a rush of magic woven into the strings, a good luck charm for him, and he rubs his hands together, moving to go take a seat on the low stage, letting his legs dangle off of it.

The others clear out, though Aeon can see that Swiss stops by Dew, leaning down to speak into his ear, but when Dew's eyes go hard, Aeon focuses on something else, rubbing at the tips of his fingers individually to try and coax warmth from his palms back up into the stiff joints.

"The coldness is part of your nature," Dew says, stilted and jerky, he's standing just in front of where Aeon's sitting now, arms crossed over his chest, "Quintessence, right? Aether said you were half that at least, probably why it's just your fingers that get the worst of it."

Aeon watches him warily, flexes his fingers a bit, though the feeling doesn't seem to come back any, "Just my fingers," he says, "Sometimes my elbows and knees, but moving around helps keep that from happening," His fingers stop for a moment, and he tilts his head, "What is your problem with me."

A pinched expression takes over Dew's face again, his brows furrowing a bit, "Change this close to a tour has me on the edge," he says, it's robotic and somewhat a lie and he can tell the exact moment that Aeon sees through it.

"I'm not trying to replace Aether," he says, "I'm not trying to step in and step on anyone's toes. I'm just here to play some music for the band and for Papa. I'm doing Aether a favor while he takes some time away." He presses his lips together, "Whatever is going on with the two of you, I'm not going to be an outlet for your anger. Not if we're supposed to work together."

Dew makes a somewhat frustrated noise and rubs both of his hands over his face, "There's no fight," he says, "I'm dealing with this, whatever it is, but Aether and I have been on stage for many, many years and this will be the first time that—"

He breaks off, but Aeon knows where he's going with it, can smell the way his scent sort of goes sad, at the prospect of leaving behind someone so important, "Ah," he says, trying to tread carefully, "I don't think taking out your...misplaced feelings on me is how to get over it though?"

He's always been blunt, but even he winces at how blunt he sounds, the words slipping out before he can stop them and he expects a push back, for the sadness to bloom into anger, but Dew just snorts softly, amused.

"The mouth on you," he says after a moment, shaking his head, "But, as much as it pains me to admit, you're right." he moves closer, sits down on the stage beside Aeon—there's space between them, and Aeon feels a bit on the edge.

"Can I?" Dew asks, holding his hands out expectantly, wiggling his fingers towards Aeon's hands, "I'm not going to bite, even if my previous attitude says different."

Warily, Aeon offers one hand as a sort of peace offering and Dew just snorts, grabbing at his wrist and tugging it closer—there's a brief rush of brimstone before the warm tips of Dew's fingers make contact with Aeon's cold skin; almost instantly, warmth seeps into him.

"Oh," Aeon says, looking down at where Dew's got their hands in front of him, each fingertip pressed together as he gently pours magic into him, "Neat trick."

"Aether gets cold hands too, not just his fingertips, so I guess you might be a little lucky you don't have to deal with the whole thing, but we figured this out shortly after my transition. Fire magic heats up quicker and neutralizes the quintessence that causes the cutoff." Dew says, his voice low and slow, almost like he's lost in thought.

"So its a magic thing?" Aeon asks, he's offering up another olive branch, another token of peace, "Is there a way to uh. Help? Other than the fire."

Dew shrugs and lets go of Aeon's wrist slowly, allowing the other ghoul to pull his hand back, easily offering up the other one, "Might have to ask Aether. You're used to using mostly earth magic, right? That's what I can smell on you. Maybe if you give your quintessence an outlet more, it'll gather up in your joints less."

Aeon hisses at the rush of heat into his cold fingertips, shoulders sinking as he relaxes into it; "I'll talk to him," he mumbles, "Not too good at the quintessence stuff, but I suppose I could try it out." He hums, wiggles his newly warmed fingers. "Thank you."

Dew looks up from where he'd been focused on Aeon's hand, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"For warming me up," he says, rolling his eyes, "And I guess, for finally talking to me about the shit in your head." He nudges his knee into Dew's, "I know I'm not Aether, but I'd hope that my time in the band could be something fond to look back on one day too?"

"Oh," Dew says, licks his lips, seemingly out of words, "I, yeah. I think so. I think we can create something good with this."

The answer comes out a little weird, but Aeon feels Dew's fingertips press tighter against his own and Dew's knee come to rest against him and it sort of dawns on Aeon then, a secretive sort of smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he presses his knee back into Dew's, a hesitant step towards a new beginning.

[not-goldy]

I'm open to discussing Jimin or Tae or any other member not getting as much push as Jungkook- in a way that does not negate JKs achievement.

But rather than look at things in a one dimensional way where Hybe is the big bad wolf and everyone else is being treated unfairly i like to look at it as a multilayered complex situation bearing in mind I have limited access to the inner workings of the company and the fact I, none of us, are Privy to the contract between the boys and the company.

Because at some point we have to recognize that Jimin is not quitting hybe or firing hybe and keeps renewing his contract with them choosing on his own volition to have them serve him as his agent, management, record label.

At some point he would have to pack his bags and walk away.

He has agency and autonomy and any analysis of his situation should factor that in.

Then there is the external factors such as whether Like Crazy is the song Jimin wants to break through the western market with.

Whether face is the album he wants to put on out there.

For a company that picks and chooses which songs to push and which to let simmer- if you've been in the Fandom for more than a year- you'd know it's not all songs of BTS the company pumps money into or pushes hard into the west.

We can talk of Dynamite or most of their recent English songs that were intentionally produced to get them into Grammy. I recall Koreans complaining heavily how disconnected they'd felt as they couldn't connect with those songs.

I also seem to recall people out in these streets mocking them and calling them Anglo pop Koreans and sell outs and how they missed their Korean songs and blah blah blah.

None of those English songs were marketed heavily in korea.

Compared to Be, which most of us felt was not pushed much in the west because the lyrics and theme spoke better to the Korean Japan markets.

At some point, we need to THINK about these METRICS and how they influence the decisions of the company and the direction of the member's promo.

I really be losing my patience explaining some of these things over and over I swear.

Like crazy came in two versions which seems to imply Jimin was well aware of the fact there are different markets and the two versions, an all English version and Anglo kpop versions suggest he had intended LIKE CRAZY NOT PRIMARILY FOR A WESTERN AUDIENCE BUT THE GENERAL AUDIENCE.

He is credited as the 1st Solo kpop artist to hit a BB1 with a Korean song....

The only other artist to achieve this to the best my knowledge is BTS with their life goes on which wasn't even marketed to the west per se.

do yall see how fucked up yalls rants are or do I have to spell it out further

Bts, hybe they cater to different markets at different times. They have specific markets and general launches or markets. There are times they target a specific market other times- like in JMs case with like crazy original, they target a general market.

Being pushed in the western markets does not make one a global superstar. If it were the case them BTS WOULDN'T BE THE BIGGEST BOY BAND IN THE WORLD because where is their push into the western market show me. SHOW ME.

RM has talked about this too.

When they make songs in Korean they don't intend it as pop songs or hype songs as he puts it.

English songs are meant to help them break into the US or western markets.

They could make Spanish songs or Japanese songs in order to break into specific markets but that comes at a cost of their brand and their identities as explained above by RM.

Safe to say they know and understand the market implications of the songs they make and the target audience of those songs.

Jimin gave us an English version of LIKE CRAZY not as his MAIN ORIGINAL SONG

His original was in Korean- DO THE MATH AND TELL ME WHY HYBE SHOULD PUSH A SONG NOT INTENDED FOR A SPECIFIC MARKET INTO THAT MARKET WITH ALL THEIR RESOURCES

Like I said, yall jx seem to have zero understanding of the inner workings of the entertainment industry, basic marketing and common sense is lacking 🙄

Talking bout Jimin can be the next big thing too- if you don't shut up

HE IS ALREADY THE BIG THING NOW

Tired of yall

IF JIMIN COMES FOR THE WEST YOU'LL KNOW

MARK MY WORDS

Yall cannot in one breath praise him for remaining true to himself and his roots while in the same breath complain he's not being westernized enough by his company to push him into the west.

You are the same people who will come crying about Jimin selling out and selling his soul and not singing Korean songs and how you miss his Korean songs if he goes full on west mode just as you doing to Jungkook.

Also just because an artist is heavily marketed in the west don't MAKE HIM A GLOBAL SUPERSTAR.

TP BE A GLOBAL SUPERSTAR YOU MUST HAVE GLOBAL APPEAL.

Your over emphasis on the west as measure of success is nauseating.

BESIDES I'M THE LAST PERSON OUT HERE YOU FOLKS SHOULD BE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION WITH.

I ALREADY PREDICTED THEY'D GO SOLO AND JUNGKOOK WOULD BE PUSHED IN JAPAN OR THE WEST GIVEN AS HE DIDN'T HAVE MUCH LOCAL APPEAL WITH KOREANS CONSTANTLY SCRUTINIZING HIM FOR HIS TATTOOS AND NON CONFORMING CHARACTER.

To me it's a win win situation fuck off

Leave me alone

[jensengirl83]

You’ll Accompany Me- Chp 12

Jensen x reader

Word Count-2453

Warnings- Language, Fluff, ANGST

A/N- I’m sorry for this chapter, but I’m not lol

Y/N and Jensen had been settled into their home in Austin for a few days. Everything had gone well after the little argument about her apartment, all that forgotten. She was in the kitchen drinking her morning coffee, looking over emails and trying to finish up the little details for the con they were leaving for in two days.

Other than her doctor’s appointment later that morning, and Jensen going to pick up the kids, this was the last thing on the to-do list. They could relax and enjoy the next couple of days with the kids and each other. She was still engrossed in her phone when he walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and walking over to sit beside her, making her jump.

“Damn it, Jay. You’re always scaring me,” she groaned.

“It’s not my fault that you don’t pay attention to your surroundings,” he chuckled, leaning in to kiss her.

“Fair point. I’m trying to get the last of the con details ironed out before I leave, so we can just enjoy the next few days with the kids, and I won’t be distracted.”

“How’s that going?” he asked, sipping on his drink, laying his hand on her thigh with a light squeeze.

“One more email to send, and I’m done. Other than my appointment later, we’re all set to chill now,” she smiled up at him.

“And this is to have your birth control changed?”

"Not changed, per se, but replaced. I have the implant in my arm. It has to be replaced every three years, so I’m having it done before the con season.”

“Damn. Doesn’t that hurt?” he winced, thinking about what they had to do to get the implant in her arm.

“It’s not pleasant, but that’s what needs to be done,” she shrugged.

“Men have it so easy,” he huffed, thinking about everything he didn’t have to go through that women did.

“You got that right, Ackles,” she laughed.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing, Jay?” she asked curiously.

“It just sucks what you have to go through to not have a kid. I don’t like the thought of that thing in your arm hurting you.”

“It’s fine, babe. It’s really not that bad. It will be sore for a few days but a lot less painful than childbirth,” she giggled when he nodded his head in agreement.

“Pregnancy didn’t seem too fun, either. I remember Dee throwing up a lot and saying how bad her back, feet, and pretty much everything else hurt.”

“Yeah, doesn’t sound like a good time,” she agreed.

“Well, what time do you have to leave?”

“In about twenty minutes,” she said, glancing at the time on her phone.

“Okay. I’ll just wait on you to get back before I go get the kids, and you can go with me,” he said, then shook his head, “That’s if you’ll feel like going. It’s okay if you don’t.”

“I’ll be fine, Jay. It’s not like I’m having major surgery or anything,” she giggled, kissing him quickly before she stood.

“Fine. I worry about you, ya know?”

“I know you do, and that’s just one of the many reasons I love you,” she winked, kissing him once more, “I have to go get dressed. I’ll be back soon. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. I’ll be here waiting when you get back.”

“I’m holding you to it,” she pointed at him with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t expect any less, my love,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully.

“They’re going to get stuck in your head like that,” she yelled in a sing-song voice as she walked away.

“Go get ready and get the hell out of here, would ya?”

“I’m going, I’m going,” she cackled, Jensen joining her, not able to fight it anymore.

Y/N was lying on the uncomfortable table in the exam room waiting on the doctor. She’d already been checked in, peed in a cup, and all the things they make you go through at the gynecologist. Now it was a waiting game for the doctor to come in, confirm she’s not pregnant, and then take out the implant and insert the new one. She wanted to get it over with so she could get back home to Jensen, and they could go get the kids. She loved when they were there with them. It was always a great time laughing and playing. The knock at the door made her sit up, seeing her doctor walk in.

“Hey, doc. Let’s get this show on the road,” she laughed. She had a great relationship with her doctor and had known her for years.

“Uh, Y/N, I need you to have an ultrasound first,” Dr. Williams said with no hint of a smile on her face.

“Why? What’s wrong?” she asked, scared that she had an anomaly with her lab tests.

“Your pregnancy test came back positive.”

“What?! That’s impossible. It has to be a lab error. I’m not late coming in to have this replaced.”

“It’s a rare possibility, but not impossible. It’s not likely, but I want to do an ultrasound to make sure. If not, then we need to figure out what’s wrong with your hormones.”

“Then let’s do it. Don’t make me panic for no reason longer than I have to,” she grumbled.

“Y/N, there is a minimal chance that you’re pregnant. But, it’s almost a certainty that it will be ectopic. It’s so very rare to have an actual intrauterine implanting on the implant.”

“Well, if it’s an ectopic pregnancy, I need to get it taken care of ASAP. We leave in two days for the convention season.”

“Okay, well, let’s see what’s happening.”

Dr. Williams sat beside her, getting the wand and gel, squirting it on Y/N’s lower abdomen, and bringing the wand down to start scanning. Y/N held her breath as she watched her doctor’s face, looking for any sign on her facial features that something was wrong. Unfortunately, she had a superb poker face and wasn’t showing any emotion on her face as she continued to move the instrument around on Y/N’s stomach. After what seemed like an eternity, Dr. Williams turned to face her and sighed.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to tell you this, but you’re pregnant.”

“Okay, well, how quick can you remove it out of the tube? It’s not a major surgery, is it?”

“No, uh, it’s not ectopic, Y/N. It’s an actual intrauterine pregnancy. From the looks of it, you’re around nine weeks along.”

“No! That can’t be right. There’s no way!”

“I know it’s a shock. But, listen,” Dr. Williams said softly, hitting a button and a loud rhythmic sound filling the room, “That’s the baby’s heartbeat.”

It was like a tidal wave of feelings rushed over her. She was shocked into silence as she listened to her baby’s heart. Her baby. She never thought this would ever be an experience she would have, never thinking she wanted kids. But, now, hearing that beautiful sound, she’s never wanted anything so bad in her life. She realized she had never wanted kids because she had never loved a man like she loved Jensen, and that meant everything.

Tears slid down her cheeks as the doctor pointed out the baby’s heart on the screen. She didn’t know how she would break it to Jensen, but she knew that it would all be okay in the end. He loved her, and after the initial shock wore off, he would be happy too.

“Here,” the doctor handed her a few prints of the ultrasound, “Come back and see me in six weeks, so we can keep a check on the little one. Now, we have to get that implant out.”

Y/N was a nervous wreck as she walked into the house. She knew she had to tell him, and she knew he would be shocked, but she hoped after a little while, he’d be okay. He had said on numerous occasions that he didn’t want any more kids, but sometimes life throws you a curveball, and you just have to go with it. He was sitting at the island in the kitchen, and she took a deep breath in preparation for the conversation they had to have. Her breath alerted him to her presence.

“Hey, honey. How’d it go?”

“Well, not as expected…,” she mumbled.

“What? What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Jay, I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to say it bluntly,” she sighed, squaring her shoulders and looking him in the eye, “I’m pregnant.”

The silence was eerie as he stared at her as if he was waiting on her to say it was a joke. The longer he looked at her, she could see the realization set in on his face, but she wasn’t prepared for what was coming next.

“What the fuck, Y/N?!” he yelled, making her jump back, “How in the hell did this happen?!”

“Do you have to ask that question?” she huffed, “We had sex, Jay, and now I’m pregnant.”

“No shit! I’m not an idiot. I meant, how did you get pregnant when you were supposed to be on birth control?”

“Supposed to be? What are you trying to imply? That I lied about having the implant?” she replied angrily, pissed off that he would even imply something like that.

“That’s not what I said, damn it.”

“Sure sounds like that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Y/N. You know what I meant. How did you get pregnant on birth control?!”

“I don’t know! It’s rare for it to happen. Nothing is one hundred percent effective, though. I know you’re in shock right now, so I’m not going to be upset at your reaction, but we have to talk about this.”

“What do you want me to say? I told you I don’t want more kids, Y/N!”

“I didn’t either, damn it!”

“Wait. Didn’t or don’t, two different meanings there…,” he glared at her, his emotions taking over completely.

“Didn’t….”

“Fuck, Y/N! I thought we agreed on this. No kids! Now you’re changing your mind? What the hell?”

“I heard the heartbeat, and…,” she began to speak, but he interrupted her.

“Heartbeat or not, I don’t want more kids! How much plainer do I have to be?”

“Well, too late for that now, huh?” she quipped, getting angrier by the minute.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” he growled, walking away to the bedroom.

“Where are you going? We’re still having a conversation!” she yelled at his back.

“Conversations over for now. I need to be alone for a while. And this stays between us.”

“Whatever,” she groaned, “I guess I’ll just sit here and wait on you to finish having this discussion.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he bit back, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

She sank down onto the stool at the island, hanging her head in her hands. She knew he would be shocked, but she didn’t expect him to have that reaction. He had never spoken to her like that in the sixteen years they had known each other, and it broke her heart. She would give him his alone time, but they had to finish having the conversation. She was pregnant, and there was no changing it.

She hadn’t realized how long she had been daydreaming when he walked back into the kitchen, walking past her and to the fridge to get water. She shook her head and looked away, and that’s when she noticed his overnight bag sitting on the living room floor.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you supposed to go get the kids?”

“No. With what’s happened, I don't think it’s a good idea for them to be here while we’re like this.”

“They’re going to be disappointed not to see you. So, if you aren’t getting the kids, what’s the overnight bag for?”

“I’m going to be seeing the kids. I’m going to go stay there with them until I leave for the con.”

“What? I tell you I’m pregnant, you scream and pick a fight with me, and now you’re going to spend the next two days at your ex-wife’s house? Wow,” she scoffed, his words cutting her to the bone.

“Don’t start. I need some time, and I want to see my kids. I love my kids more than anything, and I don’t want anything to get in the way of spending time with them before I’m gone again.”

“You can be a real asshole, you know that?” she hiccupped on the sob building in her throat.

“How’s that?” he huffed, crossing his arms.

“Nevermind. Just go. Spend the next few days at your ex-wife’s house,” she sniffled.

“Quit throwing that up! You knew she was my ex-wife when we got together, and she’s the mother of my kids, for fuck’s sake!”

“And I’m not?!” she shrieked, losing her patience with him, “Oh, I guess she counts because she’s the mother of the kids you actually want.”

“Y/N…,” he growled.

“You’re right. The conversation is over. Go. I’ll see you in Denver.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N.”

“Jensen, I can still travel for quite a while. I’m fine.”

“I know that. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go because I need some time away.”

“Are you serious right now?” she whimpered, a tear betraying her and sliding down her cheek.

“I am. It will do us both some good to have time to think,” he sighed, walking over and picking up his bag.

“Okay…,” she agreed, dejected, no more fight left in her at the moment, her heart too broken.

“I’ll be back next week,” he said with a glance at her as he began walking to the door and stopped, “Bye, Y/N.”

The sound of the door closing was the proverbial straw. She sank to the floor in sobs. How had they been so loving and affectionate just this morning, but as soon as something big happened, he walked away. She pulled her knees to her chest as she continued to cry, silently deciding what needed to be done, and it hurt. It hurt so damn bad.

Jensen had made it through the con, but barely. His mind wasn’t in it like usual as all he could think about was Y/N at home and pregnant. Jared and the others could tell something was off with him, but he had kept silent, not wanting to talk about it. Once on the plane, though, Jared wasn’t going to give up until he found out what was plaguing his best friend. He knew Jensen well enough that he could tell something significant was bothering him, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“I’m going to ask you again what’s wrong, and this time, you’re going to tell me the truth,” Jared said, staring at Jensen until he gave in and decided to tell him.

“Fine, but this stays between us. No one else is to find out.”

“Okay, man. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s pregnant,” he huffed, flopping back against his seat.

“Congratulations, dude!” Jared excitedly gasped, giving him a hug.

“No, not congratulations. You know I don’t want more kids. This isn’t good news.”

“Are you that dumb?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jensen asked hatefully, a little pissed Jared called him dumb.

“It means, how in the world are you going to sit here and pout like a little girl when the woman you love is going to have your baby?”

“I already have three kids. Unless you don’t remember,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, you do. But not with her. Didn’t you consider what that might mean to her?”

“She said she didn’t want kids either, well, until she found out she was pregnant. Now, she’s changed her mind.”

“And what should that tell you?”

“I don’t know, Dr. Phil. What should it tell me?” he griped, starting to get upset again.

“It should show you that she wants to have a baby with the man she loves, and that’s you, you idjit,” Jared laughed, shaking his head at his friend.

“I know she loves me. But, Jared, man, I’ll be in my sixties when this kid graduates high school! I’m too damn old to be having another kid,” he sighed, wanting to end the conversation.

“Do you not realize that the twins aren’t even five yet? It’s not that much more time than it would have been before all your kids were grown, anyway. So, why make such a big deal about it? Is that why she didn’t come to the con? Because she wasn’t feeling well or something?”

“I guess you’ve got a point, man. I’ll talk to her when we get home. And, uh no, she didn’t come because I told her not to. I, uh, told her I needed time away to think.”

“Wow, how did she take that?”

“I don’t know. I left and went to Dee’s for a few days before I came to Denver,” he whispered, starting to feel ashamed at how he acted once he thought back on it.

“You did what?!” Jared asked, utterly shocked at what he heard, “Dude! Please tell me you didn’t make a big deal out of her being pregnant and then left her by herself for almost a week?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, my God, you did! I bet she had a lot to say when you called her this weekend,” he chided, still not sure what to think about how his friend had reacted.

“I haven’t talked to her since I left.”

“Jay, buddy, you better get off this plane and go straight home and grovel at her feet. I’d be praying she’s still there if I was you.”

“Damn, man. Thanks for the support,” Jensen grumbled.

“I am supporting you! I’m telling you to go fix all this so you don’t lose the best thing that’s happened to you since Dee.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks, dude. Seriously, thinking back, I was an asshole.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Jared chuckled.

Jensen rushed home as soon as the plane landed. He knew he had a lot of begging to do to get her to forgive him. Jared had made him realize that one more kid wasn’t that big of a deal. Not with his youngest being only five years old. It wasn’t like all his kids were grown and now was starting over with a baby.

Once he parked his car in the garage, he flung open the door, in a hurry to get inside and see her. Even though he hadn’t spoken to her since he left, he missed her terribly. Even when they were fighting about her having a baby, he never doubted the love he had for her. He wished he could take it all back, but all he could do now was ask her forgiveness. He didn’t see her in the living room or kitchen, so he ran for the bedroom, but all he saw when he opened the door was an empty room, a piece of paper on the bed.

Jensen,

I’ve had time to think about all of this, and I’m doing what I need to do for the baby and me. I’ve sat here and tried to think of every possible reason why you would talk to me like you did, but I can’t think of anything other than you don’t want our child, and that’s where the problem lies. I’m having this baby, Jay, but I’ll do it alone. Just like you left me when I needed you the most. I was in a relationship with the love of my life, and I’d never felt so alone as I have the last few days. I’ve never been as heartbroken as I was when you left me here in tears. That’s not what a partner does. They are supposed to be here for you no matter what, but I guess I found your hard line. Your key is on the kitchen island, and you can drop my key off with the apartment manager, as I don’t live there anymore. Please don’t look for where I’m at now. Let me go, and let me move on. I’ll love you until the end of my days, Jay, but I can’t stay and have you look at me like I ruined your life like you did before you walked out. And did you notice that you said goodbye and not that you loved me? Well, I did.  I’m sorry that it had to end like this, but it’s for the best.

Y/N

Jensen was in tears, having read the letter three times. He couldn’t believe that she had left and refused to tell him where she had gone. He had really fucked it all up. Not only had he lost the woman he loved more than anything, she took their unborn child with her just when he had accepted that he would have another baby. Hell, he had actually started to get excited about it, and now, it was all gone. All because he ran instead of staying and dealing with it. Guess Dean Winchester really was a part of him, and now he was alone and devastated. He grabbed his phone, dialing Jared and waiting on him to answer. When he did, Jensen could only say one thing through his tears.

“You were right, man. I fucked up. She’s gone.”

@flamencodiva @foxyjwls007 @waywardbeanie @emoryhemsworth @valsworldofcreativity @hardcoresupernaturalfans @msmarvelouswinchester @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @ellewritesfix05 @winchest09 @defenderrosetyler @hobby27 @whatareyousearchingfordean   @atc74 @superfanficnatural  @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @xhannahbananax03 @coffeebooksandfandom   @malfoysqueen54 @deans-baby-momma @lovelyrocker @fablesrose @maralisa124 @wayward-dreamer @aimee-ginge @anathewierdo @donnaintx @screechingartisancashbailiff @itsdesiree86 @kyjey @roxytheimmortal @briagallen @aubageddon91 @lunarmoon8361 @that-one-gay-girl @stoneyggirl @kitkatd7 @writercole @brilovesdeanwinchester @allonsy-yesiwill  @krazykelly @440mxs-wife @rebelemilu @sarahbaker2010 @tyferbebe @metalfangirl @redbarn1995 @thoughts-and-funnies @izzathequeen @heavensangel45135  @entersand-man   @supraveng @percywinchester27 @hintsofhoney @bobbie3939 @waynes-multiverse​   @watermelonlipstick @katelynw931-blog @soaringeag1e​ @thinkinghardhardlythinking​ @treat-winchesterswith-kindness​ @deandreamernp​ @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad​  @pink-sparkly-witch​ @samsgirl93​ @maliburenee​  @thelastpyle​ @nancymcl​ @marvelouslyme96​ ​

[panqueen]

The Other Mayfield

Part 4: Car Light

Steve Harrington x Fem Mayfield Reader x Eddie Munson

Warning contains themes of: Substance use, Strong language, Neglect, Mention of death/injury.

☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽

It's close to 3pm and Y/n finishes up her shift saying her goodbyes to Robin and Steve. Hawkins High is out but Y/n doesn't have to worry about picking up Max or the other kids because they're all taking their bikes.

Y/n continues to drive nodding her head to the music looking at the passing street signs and the "Leaving Hawkins" sign until she gets to the place she's staying for the night. Argyle's apartment just outside of Hawkins.

She shuts her car off leaning her head back rubbing her tired eyes.

Getting out of the car walking up the pavement to the beat up door and knocks on it waiting for a response.

The door flings open and Argyle stands on the other side with a joint between his lips with a big smile on his face and slightly red puffy eyes.

"Mayfield!" he exclaims bringing her into a bone crushing hug.

"Hey Arg" she laughs hugging him back.

"Here for the night?" he asks pulling away.

"Yeah if that's okay?" she asks nervously.

"Hey you're already here man and besides you and Jonathan nobody comes around here" he smiles taking a puff of the joint.

"So how was work?" he asks her flopping onto the couch.

"Shitty per usual" she replies with a small laugh.

She walks over to the small kitchen opening the fridge grabbing a Coca Cola and walking over to the couch falling onto it sighing.

"That bad huh?" he asks with raised eyebrows.

"Better than yesterday" she replies taking a drink of her soda.

"Nick again?" he asks pointing towards her bruised cheek.

"Yep" she nods.

"You look like you need this" he holds the joint out to her.

"I brought one but yours are always stronger" she takes the joint taking a long puff inhaling the stronger substance.

After the two are done talking on the couch Argyle goes to his room for the night and Y/n lays on the couch wearing the pyjamas she keeps there with a blanket draped over her. She stares at the ash stained ceiling until her eyes begin to close letting sleep take over.

Argyle walks into the kitchen turning the coffee machine for his famous burnt coffee. He then walks into the living room opening the curtains.

Y/n groans turning over to shield her eyes from the bright sunlight shining into the room.

"Time to get up Mayfield, you've got work" Argyle tells her walking to the coffee machine pouring two cups.

He walks over with the two cups sitting on the other side of the couch nudging her leg.

Y/n sits up stretching rubbing her eyes and takes on of the cups of coffee from him.

"Thanks" she takes a sip.

"Mhm" he nods taking a drink.

After talking with Argyle Y/n makes her way to work with her vest laying in the front seat while the stereo crackles with a soft song of AC/DC. She sits in the silence staring at the road in front of her in a daze with memories running through her mind.

Y/n runs down the stairs towards where Billy is being attacked by The Mind Flayer. She runs faster trying to get to him while Max lets out a blood curdling scream. She runs up to the Flayer muting out the people yelling after her as she walks up to the monster with a cold stare.

She grabs the firework she brought down and lights it throwing it at the monster while it withers in pain and Eleven uses the last of her powers making it fall down dying with a loud screech.

Y/n runs over to Billy holding her hands to his side putting pressure where the Flayer stabbed him with its tendril. She sobs telling him to hang on and that he's going to be okay. Max runs over throwing herself onto her knees beside Y/n sobbing.

Y/n looks up feeling the pairs of eyes watching the three of them and she looks at Steve nodding towards Max sadly.

Steve runs over grabbing Max while she screams at him to let her go as she thrashes around trying to get out of his tight hold until she turns around collapsing into his arms uncontrollably crying.

Y/n looks down at Billy letting out a loud sob as she feels his heart stop beating and his eyes drift off as blood leaks out of his mouth. She steps away raising her shaking hands to try and wipe her tears away.

She snaps out of her thoughts wiping a loose tear and focuses back on the road sighing heavily when she sees Family Video up ahead. Once she pulls into the parking lot she grabs her blue vest throwing it on and walking into the store not saying a word to anyone that's a customer because she's too lost in thought to care.

Steve notices her distant look and nudges Robin to get her attention earning a jab at his side because she's with a customer until she notices what he did.

Y/n is standing still putting tapes onto their shelves muting everything around her until it now sounds like muffled voices. She closes her eyes rubbing her face tiredly and sighs continuing to put the tapes away not noticing her two friends/co workers watching her concerned.

Robin walks around from the counter walking over to where Y/n is silently putting away the tapes with a blank look on her face.

"Y/n...hey are you okay?" Robin asks putting a hand on her shoulder.

Y/n flinches looking over at her with a scared look until she realizes it's Robin and her face softens with a small smile.

"Huh?" she looks at Robin surprised.

"I asked if you are okay" Robin repeats with a small shrug.

"Oh..yeah I'm fine" she nods turning back to the shelf with a small sigh.

"Y/n...me and Steve noticed that you look upset and I don't want to overthink anything but you're starting to freak me out a bit I mean the whole zoning out with a blank look reminds me a little too much of you know who" Robin rambles about Vecna.

"Rob I'm fine okay...I'm just tired, I didn't sleep well" she smiles trying to assure her.

"Slept at Argyles again?" Robin asks quietly.

"Yeah...Max slept over at the Hoppers so I slept at his place" she nods sighing.

"What about Noah's?" Robin asks concerned.

"Noah's out of town until tomorrow" she tells her avoiding her eyes.

"Is everything okay with him?" Robin asks softly.

Truth be told that Noah is Y/n's so called perfect boyfriend who she's been with for almost a year but everyone can see him for who he really is...well all but Y/n who thinks he's perfect for her.

Noah is a mechanic at the shop Eddie works at and let's say that the two guys don't get along mainly because Eddie is protective of Y/n and he doesn't like how Noah treats her and because Noah's ignorant. Noah is a stoner just like Argyle or Eddie but the biggest difference between them is that Noah isn't the nicest guy and he knows how to manipulate people into thinking he's great but everyone in Y/n's life saw through his bullshit.

"We're fine Rob...just tired is all" she smiles at Robin walking past her.

She walks to the back of the store into the lunch room where she flops onto the couch letting out a loud sigh closing her eyes for a moment before everything goes black.

☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽——☽

Word Count: 1285

Wattpad: Graywrites06_

[autisticempathydaemon]

your match up game looks so fun ‼️‼️‼️‼️ i wanna try it out hehe (rambling ahead)

1. beast of blood by malice mizer :3 i honestly don't have a reason other than it being chaotic enough that it fills up empty noise in my brain lol

2. 5w6 !!

3. ohh i LOVE youtube essays/analyses whether i'm fully listening or have em as background noise, i love horror youtube deep dives, particularly about analog/digital horror series and that one creepypasta iceberg hehe

4. i don't think i've ever had one ? to be honest i don't think i ever thought abt it until i saw it in like . cartoons n shit , never rlly knew about the concept of imaginary friends as a kid 😭

5. recently i use redacted sleep aid audios but most of the time i just . stay awake until my brain shuts down 🤞

6. honestly? i never thought abt this . but the first thing that came into my mind was veronica (idk either!!) though if i genuinely wanted to change my name i'd want it to be gender neutral, and tbh i doubt i'd have any important meaning behind it i'd just pick whatevr sounds nice

7. guy's sleep audio !!!! i joke about wanting guy angst a lot but to be real . this audio of his is so vulnerable .. like before that we only saw him being a goof and stuff yaknow . . idk that one forreals hit different 4 me

8. as much as i love every character, i do not understand why gavin is the most popular😭 don't get me wrong , love him, maybe it's because i haven't listened to the fl series but i do not get the hype💔

9. i don't know all the words per se but i would have to say mean girls . . as problematic as that movie is now its iconic and i love it and i need to rewatch it BAD .

10. damien tbh . haven't gotten to his other audios but i think i would want 2 be besties w him i relate 2 him a good amount (he also seems like the type id be intimidated into doing well in school for)

11. to be real i wld not be able to ramble if im tired LOL i think i'd be more quiet bcz i have a hard time sleeping to begin with

12. tbh just a soda (coca cola bcz i am basic) i go to convenience stores n stuff after school so im only there to pick up something quick before i go home so im in and im out 🔥🔥

13. the 2007 sweeney todd soundtrack 🤞 i cannawt find the movie ANYWHERE and its nostalgic to me so listening to the songs is the closest i'll get to scratch the itch in my brain

14. fnaf tbh EHWHEHW i've been into fnaf ever since i was a kid and it's stuck with me because it's what got me into horror n stuff  🫶

15. i'm a saggitarius, my mbti is INTP, i love horror and fashion, despite wearing a lot of darker alt fashion, my favorite color is pink (my phone case is decorated to the gods its very ridiculous) i like doing my own nails (funnily enough in bright colors) , i think i relate to honey the most in terms of personality, and i like to analyze most of the media im into!!

So part of my thought process is based on your personality types, the Troubleshooter and the Logician. However, I have to admit a bigger part of my reasoning is I think Asher would love your fashion sense and would contrast you so cutely.

Like, on a deep, core level, your personality types give me the impression of someone who’s thoughtful and analytical and capable of solving problems. Those are good traits for a beta’s mate, especially when Asher can have more social, impulsive tendencies. On a funsies level, I imagine Asher dresses like your typical So Cal dude, kinda surfer chic, and he loves your style and what an odd pair you make. Like, on all levels but especially physical, you are the embodiment of the black cat/golden retriever couple.

Asher loves everything about you, so many things about you he finds it hard to pick a favorite. He loves the contrast between your dark clothes and your bright nails, loves asking you to paint his while you’re at it so y’all can match. He loves watching FNAF theories with you, because he was definitely a FNAF teenager. He even loves watching scary movies with you though he’s terrible with them. (Asher’s the type that loves the adrenaline rush while it’s playing but regrets it once it’s time to lock up the house.)

Song:

In the car, I just can't wait/ To pick you up on our very first date/ Is it cool if I hold your hand?/ Is it wrong if I think it's lame to dance?/ Do you like my stupid hair?/ Would you guess that I didn't know what to wear?/ I'm just scared of what you think/ You make me nervous so I really can't eat/ Let's go/ Don't wait/ This night's almost over

Given we canonically know Asher to be a FOB fanboy, it’s hardly a leap to assume he’s a Blink fan, especially this song. I think this particular track is not only fun and nostalgic to him but captures his energy and vibes, how he felt when he first fell in love with you. It’s also catchy as hell, so you know he’s singing this at you full-volume all the time.

Runner-ups:

Anytime someone says they’re a horror fan, I’ve got to put Guy in their big three; one of my top headcanons is that he writes some gripping horror and loves it as a genre. (I also think he loves FNAF lore and finds it so fun, though he was not impressed by the movie.) I also love Lasko for you because I think he admires your bold, authentic fashion choices and finds them inspirational.

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[francesderwent]

tagged by @lilaccatholic to post my favorite Taylor song per album! thanks!! I'm notoriously bad at picking favorites so we'll see how this goes...

Debut -> I love so so so many of these songs, but in this moment I think I've gotta go with "Tim McGraw". (special mentions to "I'm Only Me When I'm With You" and "Mary's Song")

Fearless TV -> nothing hits every single time like the bridge of "Love Story", forever. (runner up: "You're Not Sorry")

Speak Now TV -> too hard to choose. I'm going to say "If This Was a Movie" because it's a perfect song and because I'm salty it isn't on the album. (it could also have been "Back to December" or "Mine", which are both pure Taylor, or "Electric Touch" which is very personal to me)

Red TV -> "Better Man" combines being a technically perfect song with being a 100% pure Taylor song that only she could have ever written. I believe it is one of her very very best. like, maybe top 3.

1989 TV -> "Out of the Woods" (runner up: "Say Don't Go". and a special mention to "Is It Over Now", for which I have a special place in my heart, for exposing the lie at the heart of the original standard-length album and at the heart of the hookup culture)

Reputation -> I love this whole album but for once there is an absolute stand-out favorite: "New Year's Day". I do love everything else but nothing comes close.

Lover -> "Paper Rings" (could have also been "Daylight" or "Cornelia Street")

folklore -> this is another album I love everything near-equally but at this moment I have to give a shout-out to "illicit affairs" for being such a good piece of ethics. it does show its truth one single time but it lies and it lies and it lies! (also "betty" and "mirrorball" and "peace")

evermore -> "tis the damn season" is soooo evocative. (runner up: "right where you left me", because "help I'm still at the restaurant" rewired all our brains for better or worse)

Midnights -> "Hits Different", baby!!! (special mention to "Labyrinth" and "You're Losing Me")

The Tortured Poets Department -> it's still settling but my instinct is "The Black Dog", because it just feels like the best song on the album. (close runner up: "Peter")

tagging anybody who wants to, but especially my followers who aren't huge swifties but have their few songs they like! tell me what they are :)