#now that im over that writers block things should go better i hope

[tommysversion]

hello!! i saw you were taking requests and i couldn’t find any set rule list, so please ignore this if it’s not something you’re comfortable with ❤️ but what maybe some smut where they’ve been in jackson for a bit and the girls there don’t get the hint that he’s taken and reader gets jealous and is the dominant one? also totally marks him so they know. (sorry i don’t usually request smut so im not really sure if i should add more or not but i really like your work so i wanted to try) anyway, thank you if you get to this and again, truly no issue if you don’t. i hope you have a fantastic day/evening 🥰❤️

Hi anon! Sorry this took so long, I had the big writers block for the last few days! I hope this is what you’re looking for!

You don’t get irritated easily. It’s one of the things Joel likes about you, actually. You tend to be the level headed one, the one people go to in a crisis because you’re damn near impossible to piss off. Damn near, but not quite. And lately, people have been pushing your damn buttons. Everyone has a weakness, and yours is Joel. 

You know he’s handsome. Hell, you’re not the only one who knows it. If he wasn’t so caught up in… well, being Joel, he’d probably be able to have any of the women in Jackson that he wanted. Somehow, he wanted you. Long before you even arrived there, too. Your relationship is concrete. Infallible. Only, there are a few women who don’t seem to have gotten the hint. 

They flirt with him, right in front of you sometimes. He doesn’t seem to notice, doesn’t seem to care, and whenever you bring it up? He’s dismissive of it. 

“I don’t care who’s lookin’ at me, darlin’, I’ve only got eyes for you.” 

Sweet words, yes. And it’s not that you don’t trust him. You do. With your life, with your heart and your soul. 

It still gets to you. Especially when he gets so pissy whenever anyone so much as looks at you. Oh, sure, you like it, and you love the possessive way he fucks you whenever it happens… but it’s given you an idea. Everyone knows now not to flirt with you or touch you, because you’re always, without fail, covered in love bites or have Joel with you, his hand on the small of your back in a not so subtle possessive way. 

It’s your turn. Time to flip the cards, as it were. 

——

Sunlight streams in through the window; it’s snowed overnight again, of course, but it looks to be a beautiful day. 

You’re awake first, for once; you’ve noticed that he sleeps better beside you. Oh, he still has his nightmares, and you’re certain he always will, but you’ve noticed a definite improvement. 

Your idea still bounces around your mind, a way to keep those pesky women away from him for good. Maybe if they know, without any reason to doubt, that he’s yours… they’ll back off. If he was anyone else, you might be nervous. But he’s not anyone else, he’s Joel. Your Joel. 

The thought gives you courage as you curl your body into his, press slow kisses up his chest. That’s new, too. Since settling in Jackson, you’re both far more at ease with sleeping in very little clothing, or, in this instance, naked. 

Your fingertips trail along his arms as you kiss over his heart, keep kissing up to his throat, along his jaw. 

“Hmm? Mornin’, darlin…” His voice is always so much more heavily accented first thing in the morning, sleepy and content. You like that, the change from being instantly alert to allowing himself a moment. 

“Hi there.” You keep on kissing, along his jaw to his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth. 

“Didn’t get enough last night, huh?” He doesn’t sound annoyed, not at all. For all he comments about being fifty six and not able to keep up with such a pretty young thing, he does a damn good job. Honestly, his stamina is fucking impressive. That, and you can feel him, hard against your stomach. Time to put your idea into practice. 

“Never.” You agree, before you roll, catching him off guard enough that you can straddle him, keeping him flat on his back on the soft bed. 

He raises an eyebrow, amused at your sudden movement. He’s used to you being the submissive one, begging him to be rougher, harder, being pinned beneath him or on all fours, occasionally against a wall or on the couch if you can’t make it to the bed. It happens. Even when you ride him, he has the control, and you both know it. 

He’s not used to this, to you straddling him with a sense of purpose, a glint in your eyes as you lean down and kiss him again, a searing kiss to his mouth that’s all passion, all desperation, like he’s the purest drug left in the world and you’re addicted. 

Without breaking the kiss, you grind down against him, letting his hands drift to your waist, guiding you. Slowly, you brush your bare folds along the length of him, enjoying the way he watches you, pupils blown wide. 

You can’t let yourself be distracted, no matter how much you want to be. 

“What’s gotten into you, huh?” His voice is hoarse, heavy with arousal as you kiss the corner of his mouth again, circling your hips, teasing the tip of his cock with your wetness. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You reply, kissing his throat, finding a nice spot to leave your mark. Before he can answer you again, your kiss turns to a bite, sucking a deep purple mark into his throat as his hands shift lower, settling on your ass. 

You can feel his cock throbbing against you; it’s almost embarrassing how much you want him, how easy it would be to simply cave, beg him to roll you over and pin you to the bed. But this isn’t about you, not right now. This is about Joel, and about making sure those damn annoying women in town know that he’s yours. He’s yours. 

“Gonna tease me all morning, baby?” His tone makes it clear he doesn’t mind, not in the slightest, even if the haze of sleep has been replaced with lust. 

“Maybe.” You concede, leaving another mark on his collarbone. “I can see why you do this to me, now…” 

It certainly looks nice, the contrast of the purple marks against his olive skin. 

“Usually I fuck you, too.” Joel comments, and you laugh. 

“Is that your way of begging?” You ask, admiring the string of marks on his throat. Not bad, honestly. Not bad at all. 

“Sweetheart, if I was begging you, you’d know it.” He tries to sound stubborn, but you choose that moment to tease him again, brushing yourself against the tip of him once more. There’s a slight catch to his voice as he says it. 

“Are you sure?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Really, what’s gotten into you?” 

You smirk, lean down and press a kiss to his lips. 

“Maybe I just wanted to prove a point.” Your own resolve is failing slightly, just enough to cut your teasing short; maybe if you had slightly more control, you’d tease him for longer. But you know him, know his patience is limited, even for you. 

“And what might that be?” His hands are still on your waist; you move your own hands to his arms, keeping his movement limited; he’s not taking control, not this time. 

You don’t answer him for a moment, shift yourself, guide yourself to him, sink down onto him slowly. 

“That you’re mine,” you say finally, as every inch of him fills you; it takes a fair bit of effort to sound so in control, considering. He’s not exactly small, not so big he hurts you either, just right, perfectly filling you, the tip of him stroking against your sweet spot. 

“That so?” If Joel had his arms free, he’d be torn between crossing them behind his head, lazing back and just letting you have control, or seizing your waist and flipping you over, taking back control. He’s used to being the dominant one, but this? He could get used to this. There’s something appealing about the way you’re acting. 

“Yes.” You don’t dignify him with a drawn out answer; there are much better ways to punctuate what you’re saying, like circling your hips slowly, letting him feel you tighten around him. There’s an advantage to this position; you can use his arms to brace yourself as you start to ride him, slow at first. 

You can’t help the surge of confidence that comes with having him in this position. You know what sort of man he is, know exactly what he���s capable of. The fact that he’s willingly submitting to you, even if it’s just for curiosity sake… it definitely makes you feel good about yourself, encourages you to keep going. 

“C’mon, sweetheart, this all you got?” There’s an amused glint in his eyes; he knows you’re holding back on him, knows there’s strength in you that you keep hidden away. He’s seen glimmers of it, like when you marked him, but honestly, he wants to see how far you’ll go before you break. 

“Shut up, Joel.” You roll your eyes, lean down to kiss him. He meets you halfway; props himself up so you can change positions, so you’re more sitting in his lap than anything. You have to admit, you like the intimacy of it, the way his chest is pressed against yours. His arms encircle you, but he doesn’t try to take control of the situation, content with letting you ride him, setting the pace, trailing kisses along his chest. 

Even like this, you still have the control, are still the one calling the shots. You wrap your arms around his neck to steady yourself, riding him faster, finally allowing little sounds of pleasure to fall from your lips when he moans. 

“I dunno where this came from, sweetheart,” he mumbles into your ear, “but I kinda like it.” 

You laugh, curl your hands into his hair, your laughter fading into moans and mewls as he starts to buck his hips up to meet you as you ride him, getting deeper, bringing you into a perfect rhythm. 

You need something to do with your mouth to quiet you; you suck another mark into his throat to occupy yourself, satisfied when he groans. 

“Fuck, darlin’, you’re getting good at that…” Joel’s hands caress your waist, up your back, as though he’s trying to memorise every inch of your skin. He could spend all day touching you, and it wouldn’t be enough. 

“Learned from the best,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder as you pick up your pace. He meets you each time, rocking his hips up to match your pace, for once keeping his filthy mouth to himself in place of a string of moans and growls. 

“You’re mine.” You remind him as you kiss him once more, as close to your release as he is to his own. 

“And you’re mine,” he confirms, hands settling on your waist, holding you in place as he bucks up into you, drawing your climax out of you, satisfied by the loud gasps and moans that fall from your lips. He doesn’t get long to be smug, though; your tightening around him is enough to bring him to his own release; you bear down on him, keeping him inside you, taking every drop that he has to give you. 

He shakes his head, half amused, as soon as he can catch his breath. 

“If anything comes of that… that’s on you.” He warns you. Not that he’d ever abandon you. Never. 

“Oops.” You wriggle on him, getting him deeper, proving your point. 

He drops a light kiss to your lips. 

“You should show this side more often,” Joel says, and then smirks, “you’re cute when you’re jealous.” 

You scoff, admire the string of bites and marks along his chest, collarbones, and throat. 

“Somehow, I think they’ll get the message.” 

[assortedgoods123]

Severus Snape x chatty!reader Soulmate AU

Writers block with stardew valley stuff so im trying something totally different to shake the cobwebs loose

do ppl still need to say they dont fuck with jkr or is it a given at this point? (genuine question)

*meet-cute!!!*

*this reader has titties and gender neutral pronouns*

Walking quickly, your eyes are glued to your phone as you round the corner of a street in London. You are already running late for a meeting but you absolutely refuse to deal with your coworker's bullshit without something caffeinated in your hands.

Just as you are about to look up and find the entrance to the cafe you frequent, you slam into something. You squeak out a nervous gasp when you realize it wasn't a lamp post, but a person.

"Ohmygosh I am so so so sorry!" You say, frantically digging in your bag for your horde of cocktail napkins. Your eyes flit nervously over the stranger, realizing you're both covered in his drink order. Dabbing at his torso with your little napkins, his silence makes you about a thousand times more anxious.

"I really am so so sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going, it's totally my fault." You stammer out, glancing at up at his face while you pat pat pat his chest with your napkins.

Your poor little heart, already beating like a hummingbird in your chest, leaps into your throat at the sight of the hottest fucking guy you've ever seen in your life. The kind of hottie you would chase down the street to throw yourself at. You've done very embarrassing things to get a chance to know people who are far less good-looking than this man in front of you now. And because you were too preoccupied with your phone, you're almost certain you won't be walking away with his number.

And he's frozen, staring at you with a weird look on his face. Definitely the worst first impression you could have possibly made.

Never one for fits of grace, you frown and say, "People as attractive as you should come with an escape lever." You throw the soggy napkins in the trash nearby and add, "I hate embarrassing myself in front of hot people."

Still not getting a response, you turn and look up at him. "You gonna say anything handsome?"

-

Severus Snape has never been rendered this speechless in his entire life.

The day the courts ruled him not guilty enough for Azkaban was certainly shocking, but even that paled in comparison to what he was experiencing now.

He was leaving his favorite coffee shop when he bumped into a muggle. People are clumsy, it happens. But then, instead of apologizing and running away from the tall scary man, they started talking to him. The sweetest, softest voice Severus had ever heard, telling him he's... hot. Attractive. Handsome.

Every single time anyone has ever shown interest in him in public, Severus has immediately and viciously shut them down. Far better to come across as an asshole upfront than to be humiliated and heartbroken later.

But now, he had this sweet little muggle running their warm hands all over his chest in a matter of seconds. Before he could snarl at them to back off, he looked down and, well.

What was already a very low-cut top was now soaked with tea, becoming slightly translucent. Half of Severus was now laser-focused on the stretch of the damp fabric over your tits, while the other half was screaming at him to get a hold of himself.

You asked him a question, he realizes. Jerking his head around to face you properly, he blurts out, "Huh?"

Oh he's doomed, he thinks.

-

You gasp and grab his arm, "Oh no I'm already so late I need to go right now but listen, here's a bit of money to buy yourself a new drink it's the least I can do I'm so so sorry for running into you and dashing away but I really am late it was nice to meet you bye!"

Hustling away, you sigh and hope you run into him again. Such a shame you couldn't stay and flirt longer. Checking your watch, you growl and break into a jog. Fuck this day, you think.

-

"Fuck this day" Severus mutters, before heading down an alley to dissipate home. Just like him to meet someone who actually thinks he's attractive only for them to be so late they have to literally run.

It was only a fraction of a moment, but Severus knows it'll be the thing keeping him from falling down a pit of despair some nights.

Hating himself as he does it, he sniffs the money you handed him. It smells like your perfume. He sets it aside on his dresser.

Pathetic virgin, he thinks.

Later that night, however, he wakes with a gasp. "Idiot idiot idiot!" He snarls, yanking the covers away from himself. "You were so focused on them you forgot to check your soul mark" He glowers at himself in the mirror before lifting his tongue. There, on the underside, is a swirl unique to him and his soulmate.

His heart skips a beat when he sees it glitter in the dingy bathroom lighting. It's activated. And the only people he spoke to yesterday were you and the exhausted-looking barista.

He thinks of the look on your face when you saw him, how you pouted so cutely when you threw the napkins away. The way your clothes stretched over your body.

I've gone mad, he thinks, as he throws on some clothes and dissipates to an alley in London.

-

I am literally insane, you think.

You've been sitting on a bench outside the coffee shop you almost went in yesterday for about half an hour now. It's too early for anyone else to be up and about yet, it's about 3 in the morning. You woke up last night realizing you didn't check your soul mark after meeting that stupidly hot guy. Sure enough, it was activated.

You twist your fingers anxiously, hoping and hoping that he will show up eventually. You'll be so sad if it's not him.

Suddenly, you hear an odd noise in a nearby alley. Nervously, you run your hands along your pepper spray.

Turning your head to look, you see him. Disheveled and breathing heavy, he locks eyes with you and storms over.

Feeling slightly lightheaded, you rush towards him and lift your tongue up so he can see. Tears of happiness and overwhelm run down your face when he nods and shows you his activated mark.

"Can I...?" You open your arms, asking for a hug.

Hesitating, he steps into your embrace, standing like a stiff board while you sniffle into his shirt and squeeze him tight.

You have a good feeling about this.

(not sure how to end it so ill call it here 🤗)

[harringtown]

in the sea that’s painted black

a/n: it took an obscene amount of time to finish this fic and even longer to get around to this request so im so sorry for the wait, but me and writers block are currently duking it out in the ring lmao 

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader 

summary: vecna kidnaps the reader, and once they’re rescued, steve helps pick up the pieces (aka how steve and reader lose each other, and how they find their way back) 

word count: 7k

warnings: cursing, violence/torture mention

-

As far as Steve knew, you were a hundred miles from Hawkins when Vecna’s infection bubbled to the surface. You were at your aunt’s helping out with her new baby for Spring Break, far from the incoming chaos.

As far as Steve knew, you were safe.

As it would turn out, though, Steve didn’t know a damn thing.

Steve has broken his ribs more times than he can count, and the same can be said for his nose, and he’s had at least four concussions, but none of that pain comes close to this.

To the avalanche that lands on his chest when they bust through the locked door behind Vecna’s flaming corpse in the Creel house and see you, pale and bruised and bloody and unconscious. You’re alive, but barely—eyes shut, fingertips and lips blue, pulse so slow that Robin initially thinks you’re dead.

The decently laid escape plans every one of them came through the gate with dissolve, and in minutes, everyone on the wrong side of the gate is at the Creel house. Eddie is more blood than boy, and Dustin is limping, and Steve can’t tell who is holding up who. But they’re alive, and they’re awake, and that’s better than Steve can say for you.

“Can we move her?” Robin asks.

Nancy purses her lips. She’s purposefully not looking at Steve.

“I don’t know,” she says. “I think her arms are broken. Legs, maybe.” She shakes her head, and her next words are hopeless. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not leaving her here,” Steve snarls.

“No one is suggesting that, Steve,” Nancy says. “But if we just… run in there and lift her, we could hurt her even more.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do, then?” He asks, and he knows he’s raising his voice, and he knows Nancy doesn’t deserve it, but the girl he loves is half-dead on the floor.

He spent three days believing you were safe and sound, miles away. And for three days, you’ve been trapped in hell.

He should have known. Should have sensed it. Should have taken the damn time to call your aunt, who would have told him you never made it.

“We’ll make a stretcher,” Eddie says. He sways a bit as he comes forward. “We need a big fucking slab of wood.” He sweeps a gaze around. “And anyone with a belt, take it off, and hand it over.”

And though a few days ago, Steve didn’t care who Eddie Munson was, right now, he could kiss him. Instead, he just meets Eddie’s eyes, and gives him one of those dude-nods, hoping he’ll understand. Eddie nods back, already unthreading his leather studded belt.

Nancy and Robin end up ripping the front door straight off its hinges, and Steve, Eddie, and Dustin get to work making something sturdy enough to get you out of here.

You haven’t moved, have barely taken breath, since they found you, but for the moment, Steve lets the task distract him, and pretends it isn’t the girl he loves on the floor, but a faceless person he doesn’t know. It’s the only way he’ll get you and himself and everyone else out of here.

The radio chatter has been nonstop with the kids on the other side of the gate trying to figure out what’s going on, but not a single hand is free to answer the call. Within minutes, a decent looking transfer board with straps is being placed beside you.

Nancy and Robin take one side, Steve and Eddie another, with Dustin at your head to secure your neck.

“Ready?” Nancy asks. Four sets of hands slip gently beneath you. “Three, two, one—”

Your eyes snap forward, wide open, and the whites are almost entirely red from broken blood vessels. The others shift back on instinct—Steve’s instinct pushes him forward, has him reaching for you.

Your gaze finds his, and Steve doesn’t ever think he’s been so relieved in his life. You’re alive, and awake, and—

And you lunge for him, fingers wrapping tight around his neck.

And Steve can’t breathe.

“Get. Out. Of. My. Head.” Your voice is raw and ragged and breaking, and with each word, your fingers close a little tighter around Steve’s throat.

“Oh, shit!” Dustin yells, and if Steve had the capability of speech, he’d agree with him.

“Wheeler!” Eddie calls, in motion while the rest of the room is frozen, taking one of your arms. “A little help over here!”

Nancy lunges, Robin behind her, and it takes all three of them to tear you off Steve. Steve, who just spent a good ten minutes with a vine around his neck, is in no state to help, and even if he was, he still can’t breathe. He can’t breathe, and all he can see is your eyes, red and angry.

Eddie wrangles you back, but you shove out of his arms, throwing yourself back into the corner like a terrified animal.

“Steve—” Robin kneels to help him to his feet, but he shakes her off, hands flying up to rub at his neck.

“I’m fine,” he spits. And he isn’t, and everyone knows it, and maybe that’s why they don’t push it. Or maybe it’s you, trembling in the corner, staring at all of them like they’re monsters.

He takes a step toward you, and Nancy takes his arm.

“Steve, I wouldn’t—” She starts, but a glare from Steve silences her. She removes her hand.

“Y/N, it’s just us,” Steve says. He doesn’t get closer, despite every cell and nerve ending telling him to. “It’s me. It’s Steve.”

You shake your head so violently, Steve wonders if it hurts.

“No,” you say. “No. You’re not him. You’re not him.” You shake your head again. Draw your knees to your chest and loop your arms around them. “You’re not him.”

Steve looks back at his friends. Robin, her eyes glittering with tears. Nancy, who won’t look at him. Eddie, with his jaw clenched. Dustin, trying to shift his weight onto his bad foot and failing.

He doesn’t know what to do. After everything he’s been through, all the battles he’s fought, Steve Harrington has finally come face to face with a wall he can’t begin to imagine climbing.

In the end, it isn’t Steve who saves you from the Creel house. He doesn’t carry you out to safety. He doesn’t comfort you on the way through the gate and to the ambulances; one of them already has Max inside.

Eddie does. The only person you didn’t know before all this started—the only person Vecna didn’t use to torture you for three straight days.

Steve doesn’t have to ask to know that he was the center of the nightmares. The throbbing pulse around his throat is answer enough.

He was forced into a check up alongside everyone else when they got to the hospital—you, Max, Dustin, and Eddie were immediately taken back to rooms to be treated for your more severe injuries—but with so much chaos and carnage to deal with after the alleged earthquake, he’s told he’s free to go within the hour.

He doesn’t go, of course. He can’t. You’re still here. One of the nurses gave him your room number, said you’d be released in the morning. Which means Steve will be here until the morning.

Steve isn’t sure what else to do, so he ends up on damage control. He stops by Eddie’s room, where the Munson boy is wrapped tight in gauze and being pumped full of morphine, and asks if you said anything before he handed you off to the EMT’s. From what he could get out of you, you’d been intercepted on your way out of town. A cop found your car just a few miles from your house, down a gravel road, like you’d followed something.

Something. Someone. Vecna.

Thinking about it makes his blood boil. Makes him want to march back through the gate and burn every inch of the Upside Down back to ash.

He puts off going up to visit you as long as he can. But eventually, he’s called your parents and aunt to update them—your parents left in the evacuation, and your aunt was absolutely panicking, but as far as they know, you were minorly injured in the earthquake, and will call them all in the morning—and he can’t find any more excuses not to go.

It’s almost like part of him believes that the longer he waits, the more likely he is to walk into that hospital room and find you just the way you were when he kissed you goodbye three days ago.

Steve hesitates at the door. Room thirteen. He takes a breath, and steps inside.

He sees you jerk and straighten before he sees your face. It makes him stop a foot from the door.

You sit rod straight in the hospital bed. Both your arms are in casts. You have two black eyes, and more bruises and scrapes than he could even begin to count. But the worst part is the way you look at him. Like he’s a monster.

“I, uh, I wanted to make sure you were—” Steve stops. He should have come in with some game plan. “I wanted to see how you were doing.” It feels kind of like it did before you started dating, when you both walked that awkward tightrope until you realized you were both heading in the same direction. But even then, you never looked at him like this.

Your gaze trails up and down, and when it returns to his face, your expression is tight and tense.

“Steve?” you ask, like you doubt it.

“Yeah. It’s me,” he says. “It’s Steve.”

You gather the blankets up in your lap. “How do I know it’s really you?”

Steve’s lips part, but nothing comes out. He doesn’t know how to prove himself. He doesn’t know how to get rid of that panicked look in your eyes. He sure as shit doesn’t know how to fix this.

So, he just says, “I don’t know.” It’s almost impossible to talk past the choking sensation in his throat. “I would say that you'll have to just trust me, but—” He gestures at nothing. Closes his eyes for a long second. Opens them, and asks, as softly as he can, “But you can’t do that, can you?”

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head. Tears spill down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” You lick your lips and avert your gaze. “But I can’t—I don’t—”

Steve’s heart cracks open in his chest. He swallows the lump in his throat and says, “That’s okay.”

“It’s not—” you say.

Steve makes to move forward, but at your abrupt flinch, he freezes. Reroutes. Tries to cull the pain he knows is infecting his face with every breath.

“It is,” he says gently. “It’s okay.” He jams his hands in his pockets as if that will get rid of the urge to wrap his arms around you, protect you the way he’s supposed to. But right now, the only protection you seem to want is from him.

Steve licks his lips. “Look, I know that the last thing you want right now is to see my face—” Your expression twists, but you don’t counteract his words, so he knows they’re true. “—but I’ll be here. If you need me, or whatever, just…” He clears his throat. “I’m here, okay?”

You don’t say anything. You just nod.

And that’s it. Just like that. Steve turns and heads for the door before he breaks down at your feet, but a soft, “Steve,” stops him with his hand on the handle. He catches your eye over his shoulder.

Tears run rivers down your cheeks. A few days ago, Steve could have wiped them away.

“I’m so sorry,” you say.

The knot in Steve’s gut coils tighter, and rage sparks along his skin, but he’s not angry at you. He’s angry at Vecna or Henry or whoever the fuck he is. He’s angry at himself for not taking you up on your invite to get out of town for the week. Most of all, he’s just angry. Angry because he loves you, and he can’t help you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Steve says, harsher than he means. He tries again, softer, “None of this is your fault. If you can trust anything right now, trust that.”

Then he slips through the door and pulls the door shut behind him.

With everything that happened, the Byers trip has been extended—Steve doubts they’ll go back to California for anything more than packing up and selling the house—and because half the houses in Hawkins were obliterated, Steve’s house becomes the hotel for the Byers, Hopper, and Eleven. He’s pretty sure Eddie will be taking over his couch when he’s discharged from the hospital, too.

He told them he’d be home later when he handed off a key, but he has no intention of going anywhere.

Steve drags two chairs from down the hall, positions them against the wall outside your side, and settles in. He’s immediately uncomfortable, and his back is going to wage war on him in the morning, but laying crookedly on those chairs is the closest he can get to you. After the last few days, he wants to be as close as he can be.

And so, he stays, staring up at the tiles of popcorn above him until he falls into a fitful sleep, full of empty, hollow dreams.

-

You were giddy the first, fifth, and five hundredth time you walked up the Harrington driveway. Tonight, though, the only thing you feel is dread.

To your relief, Steve is at work when you’re discharged, and since your parents are towns away with relatives—and unaware that you had to stay in the hospital at all—it’s Joyce and Hopper who drive you. They, too, are residents at the Harrington halfway house that popped up in the last day.

Jonathan, Nancy, and Argyle took the kids for a lake day to get their minds off things before Argyle has to head back to California, so the house is quiet, but it wouldn’t matter how full it was. Anything you touched or looked at or loved prior to three days ago is drenched in blood no one else can see. Even Joyce and Hopper, who featured less in the rampage of nightmares, make you want to crawl out of your skin.

But they seem to get it, or are just weighed down by their own responsibilities and losses, because they don’t stop you when you head out to the back yard. Sitting on a rusted lawn chair, it takes a second to realize why you chose this spot.

Because Steve doesn't come out here anymore. He hasn’t come farther than the doorway since Barbara Holland died.

Another barrage of tears lines up behind your eyes. If anyone would understand, empathize, it would be Steve. Steve, who has seen more pain than most people realize, and who has shouldered more than anyone should.

Steve, who you love more than you thought was possible.

And yet, when you saw his face in the Creel house, and again in the hospital, you could think only of the sick, maniacal grin on his face as he broke you in every way possible. As he spit venom and broke your bones and twisted every beautiful thing he ever told you.

Steve. Vecna. They are not the same, and they are.

You swipe the tears out of your eyes. The skin is dry and flaky from all the crying, and aches where you irritate the bruises.

But it could be worse. At least you’re alive, and awake, and walking around.

You’re not sure how long you sit out there, staring at the empty pool. It’s been empty almost as long as Barb has been dead. Steve begged his father to have it professionally done, and when the man ignored him, a frantic Steve went at it with buckets until his dad agreed.

At some point, the sun begins to set. A little later, a figure in the window catches your attention.

Steve stands at the back door, his arms folded over his chest, but he doesn’t make any attempt to come outside. You’ve no idea how long he’s been standing there.

He sees the line you’ve drawn in the sand. And it’s obvious how much it hurts him.

You take a breath and look away.

-

The nightmare yanks you out of sleep sometime past four in the morning. Tugging the damp, twisted covers off your legs, you slide out of bed—Steve’s bed, minus Steve, a fact that is both a relief and a disappointment all at once—and pull the hoodie from the end of the bed. It, too, is Steve’s, but it’s been yours almost as long, stolen months ago.

You pad to the door, eager to splash cold water on your face like it’ll wash the nightmare clean. Easing it open, you slip into the dark hallway, and almost trip on the dark figure sprawled outside the door.

Steve Harrington, in all his glory, a spot of drool on one side of his mouth, sleeping on a yoga mat with a ratty pillow and an old quilt.

“Steve?” you ask, louder than you should this late at night.

Steve’s eyes snap open, and he retrieves a knife he has tucked under the pillow, jerking upwards. At the sight of you, he sighs. Tosses the knife aside. Swipes at his eyes.

“Jesus—you scared the hell out of me,” he says. His voice is thick with sleep, and it tugs on soft memories; mornings across the same pillow and warm skin against yours.

“I scared you?” you ask, incredulous. “What are you doing out here?”

He flops onto his back and throws an arm over his face.

“Sleeping,” he grumbles. “Or, I was.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” you say. “Why are you curled up outside my door like a golden retriever?”

“If you wanna get technical, it’s my door—” He removes his arm from his face and scrunches his face up at your expression. “—which, clearly you don’t.” He pushes up to a seated position, shifting to lean his back against the wall. “Look, I get that you don’t want anything to do with me right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just…” He shakes his head. “Ditch you.”

You can do nothing but look at him for a long moment, battling between the urge to run and the urge to stay.

Steve’s gaze falls to the wall across from him, as if he already knows what you’ve decided. A muscle ticks in his jaw. A few inches south, a scabbed line circles his throat. He almost died back there, too.

No one escaped this uscathed.

Maybe that’s why you decide to sit down across from him. Or maybe he just looks so miserable. Maybe you miss him. Maybe it’s all of those things.

You stretch your legs out, and Steve does the same. He rolls his ankle to tap your socked foot with his once before he shifts his legs away. His expression is twisted, a little hesitant, like he’s not sure what’s going on, like he’s worried he’s walked into a trap.

The silence holds longer than it ever has before. No one wants to be the first to break it.

Even before you admitted your feelings, as you skirted around each other like orbiting planets, it never felt like this. Awkward in a heart-wrenching way.

A few minutes, or an eternity, later, you voice the question bouncing around your skull.

“You’ve been sleeping out here every night?”

Steve pokes his tongue into one side of his cheek, making it bulge like he jammed a lollipop in his mouth. A memory of a candy store and sticky, taffy-flavored kisses drifts around you like a breeze.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says. He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing it up even further.

“Why?”

Steve clears his throat. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he says, “I guess I don’t know what else to do.” His gaze darts to yours, a sad half-smile playing on his lips. “I mean, I don’t really ever know what to do, if the current state of my life didn’t make that clear enough, but I’ve always been able to… bullshit my way through it, you know? Enough to get by.” He shrugs a shoulder. Tips his head back against the wall. Closes his eyes. “But here, with you, I have no idea. And it kills me.”

You let out a breath. “It has nothing to do with not wanting to be around you,” you say. “It’s not that I—I don’t—”

Steve opens his eyes and says, “You don’t have to.”

Once again, patient. Patient like he’s been for almost a week. More patient than you think you deserve.

“I want to,” you say. “I wish I could. I just…”

Steve nods. He goes quiet for a long time, but it isn’t an awkward silence. It’s worse. It’s heavy with grief and wanting and old sentiments for the old version of you both.

You slide your leg across the scratchy carpet and tap his foot with yours, drawing his attention back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I’m sorry I don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, well, we have that in common, at least,” he says. “Because I have no clue what to do, either.”

And while his actions the last week have made it clear he doesn’t plan on giving up, as he slides down onto his back on his sad little bed, it looks and feels a hell of a lot like surrender.

-

After three weeks, the Byers have vacated Steve’s house—Hopper and Joyce went Westward, back to California to sell Joyce’s house, and the kids with Jonathan at Hopper’s cabin now that it’s been done up.

The only other occupants of the Harrington house, since the actual Mrs and Mr Harrington are still out of town, are Eddie Munson and his uncle, though next week, they’ll be gone, too.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here. Your parents asked if you were planning on meeting them at your relatives house, and you told them no.

As much as it hurts to be near Steve, at the same time, it’s also the only thing that feels normal. Which makes no sense.

“We need to talk,” a familiar voice says. You hadn’t even heard him come outside—hadn’t figured he would, since he hasn’t once in the last three weeks. But when you turn, there he is, arms folded, jaw tight. Steve.

You shift on the rusty lawn chair, and Steve doesn’t hesitate before he comes to sit across from you.

“Steve, I’m really not in the mood—“

“Enough.” He shakes his head. “I’ve spent three weeks tip-toeing around you, and I’m done. You have to talk about it. Talk to me—”

Your lips form the beginning of a protest, but Steve presses on before you can say it, like he already knew you were going to.

“—or don’t talk to me. But talk to someone.”

“What do you want me to say, Steve?”

“Anything,” he says. “Anything at all. Because anything has to be better than this. You’ve been walking around like a goddamn ghost for weeks, and I’ve tried to give you space, and then I tried to be there for you, but all you’ve done is push me away.” He lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard. “And then, I hear you on the phone with your parents. I know they asked you to come up to Indianapolis. And I know you told them no. Which doesn’t really make sense, because anytime I’m around, it’s like you can’t stand me.”

“That’s not true,” you say.

“Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

Your heart wrenches.

“I’m serious,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat.  “I still love you as much as I did three weeks ago. But for three days, a… demon wearing your face tortured me. Took every beautiful, kind thing you’ve ever said to me and twisted it. And it wasn’t just that. I saw everyone I love die a dozen times. I saw you die a dozen times.” You press your lips together. “I still love you, Steve Harrington, but I also see the end of the world when I look at you. I don’t know what to do with that, and I don’t know how to make that go away.”

Steve falls quiet, and for a long time, you’re afraid to look him in the eyes. And when you do, you regret it. All that pain and anguish and anger in his eyes, reflected back in your own.

“You can’t save everyone, Steve,” you say softly.

“You’re right.” Steve rakes in a breath. “I can’t save everyone. But I can save you.” He swallows. Grits his teeth. “And I will save you, Y/N. Whatever it takes.”

“Why? Why won’t you just give up?”

Steve goes quiet for a moment. His voice is low when he speaks again. “When you and I—” His brows furrow. “After everything that happened with Nancy, I was no good for anybody. I sure as hell wasn’t any good for you when we first started all this. I was a mess, but you stayed. You never stopped fighting for me.” Steve sniffs and swipes a hand under his nose. He pushes to his feet, and jams his hands in his pockets. “So if you want me to stop fighting, then look me in the eye and tell me, and I will.” He shakes his head. “But I’m never giving up on you, kid. I love you too much.”

The old nickname—you said an eight month age gap hardly warranted the term—from the months you both pretended not to feel what you did for each other, for your own stubborn reasons, stings like a slap.

Then he stands up, takes a tentative step toward you. When you don’t move, don’t even look up, he bends down. Presses his lips to the top of your head. Lingers, just for a second, long enough for your gut to lurch. Walks away.

And when you say, “Don’t stop fighting,” you’re not sure if he hears you before he makes it inside.

-

Another week passes. Steve moves back into his bedroom, and you into the guest room that shares a wall. Steve’s mother returns home, though even when she’s there, she’s not, so it still feels like it’s just the two of you. Circling each other.

On Friday night, you’re settled on the couch under the biggest blanket you could find, when Steve walks through the living room. He slings a jacket over his shoulders and drops onto the couch opposite you as he laces his sneakers.

“Hey,” you say.

Steve’s head snaps up, like he’s shocked you acknowledged him at all.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” he asks. He’s asked it a thousand times. And each time, you consider lying. And each time, you don’t.

“Just tired. Haven’t slept well in like a month.”

Steve nods grimly. “Well, if you feel like getting out of the house, I’m heading to Robin’s to watch some cheesy movie she picked out. She invited you, too.” Steve clears his throat. “You should come. It could be fun.” He shifts his weight, tries a smile. “I mean, not that fun, because Robin insists on that disgusting popcorn, milk duds thing, but, still.”

Your pulse leaps. You’ve barely left the house in the last month, but when you have, it’s been alone.

Your lips part, an excuse lining up behind your teeth, but before you can release it, Steve sighs, and says, “Yeah, I figured.”

He pushes to his feet and jams his hands into his pockets.

“If you change your mind…” Steve trails off, like he knows just as well as you that you won’t. He nods. “I’ll see you later. If you need something, call me, okay?”

You nod, and even though it breaks your heart to let him walk out the door, you don’t stop him. You never do.

That doesn’t mean you don’t wish you had. Wish you were brave enough. Wish that you and Steve were the same versions of yourselves as you were a month ago. But you’re not. He’s not. And there’s no way back to those people.

There’s just before and after.

-

A knock on the door half an hour later rouses you from the couch. You head to the door, expecting to let in Steve’s mom, who forgets her house keys more times than she remembers them.

It isn’t Steve’s mom at the door, though. It’s Eddie Munson.

No longer standing at death’s door, he doesn’t look like the guy who was more blood than boy when he carried you out of the Creel House. And while you’d never spoken before all this, a friendship was born out of the whole endeavor, during late nights on Steve’s couches.  

“Eddie?”

“In the flesh,” he says, sweeping an arm. He flashes you a lopsided grin. “You look disappointed. Expecting someone different?”

No. Yes. You’re always hoping it’s Steve coming through the door, and a little relieved when it’s not. A little sad, too.

“No,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Just figured you had better things to do on a Friday night.”

He shrugs, and steps around you and into the house like it’s his own. With another eye roll he can’t see, you close the door behind him.

“Kind of you, sweetheart, but I’d guess our social schedules look pretty much the same these days.” He leans into the staircase banister. “I’m just here to grab some stuff I left. Harrington said he left a doggy bag just past the foyer.” He says foyer all fancy, an ay instead of an er, and you can’t help but smile.

You jerk a chin.

“Come on. You know where to go.”

“That I do,” he says, and heads into the living room. He locates the plastic bag stuffed with clothes on the coffee table, but instead of grabbing it, he drops down onto one of the couches.

With a sigh, you cross the room and sit on the other couch.

“Make yourself at home,” you say.

“What can I say? This couch and I got close last month.” Eddie grins, but it falters. “So. Elephant in the room. How are you?” He asks. “And don’t give me some bullshit answer. My lie detector is off the damn charts.”

You huff, sitting back on the couch and folding your arms across your chest.

“I’m…” You sigh. “I don’t know how I am. How are you?”

Eddie frowns, and the furrow between his brows is deep.

“About the same.”

“I haven’t slept more than five hours a night in a month. Every time I close my eyes, I’m back in that house. And the nightmares—” You stop, shaking your head.

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” Eddie says, jaw set. “My dreams aren’t exactly rainbows and daisies, these days.”

“And they were before?”

He lets out a soft laugh.

You take a breath. “Sometimes, I think they’re never going to go away. The nightmares. And not just the nightmares, but all of it.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a long moment. He just stares at the coffee table between you like it has something to tell him.

And then, he looks up.

“You know, my whole life, I felt like I was at war with the entire world. I had to fight so much, so long, that when I finally didn’t, I had no damn clue what to do.” Eddie licks his lips. “And I know that you’ve been through hell. But you’re not on a battlefield anymore. You have to come home. Get off that damn field before you get stuck there.”

You shake your head. “I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

Eddie purses his lips. He sits forward, leaning his elbows into his knees.

“Welcome to the club,” he says. “But you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Lucky?” You scoff.

“Yeah. Lucky.” Eddie sits up. “Back in that house, four people who had every reason to run for their fucking lives stayed behind because you needed help. I mean, if it were up to me, I’d have gotten the hell out of there.” He shoots you an apologetic grin. “But not them.” There’s an unspoken not-him in there, and you’re not sure what surprises you more: that he’s defending Steve, or that you’re having this conversation at all.

The you of a month away would never have believed a word of this. Any of it.

“Look, I’m not saying that anyone is gonna walk in and make all the bad shit go away. Nobody can do that. But you’ve got people that want to try,” Eddie says. “Do you know what I’d have given to have that? What I’d still give?” He shakes his head. “Yeah. I’d call that pretty damn lucky.”

“You have people, Eddie,” you say. “At least, you do now.”

He gives you a wan smile, like he’s not sure he believes it, but he appreciates the sentiment.

“Whatever I have, it isn’t that.” He shrugs. “So, as the person who carried you out of that place, do me a favor and make it worth a damn.”

It’s a sincerity you’re surprised to find from him. Maybe it’s that, or maybe it’s the fact that he’s right, because all you can say is, “I will.”

-

“Look at me.” That voice, the one that you know better than your own, but it’s wrong, all wrong. He is all wrong. Dark and coated in rot.

You squeeze your eyes shut, hard enough to hurt. But that voice just gets louder, and louder, so loud it’s like it’s being projected directly into your brain.

“Look at me.”

“You’re not real,” you say, but you’re saying it yourself more than anyone.

This isn’t real. You know it isn’t real.

But it feels real. Looks and smells and hurts. And that makes it real enough.

A massive force slams into your chest and sends you colliding with the brick wall, but you don’t fall, your limbs stuck to the

Your eyes snap open.

Steve who isn’t Steve smiles.

“There we go,” he says. “I wouldn’t want you to miss a second of this.”

He lifts a hand. Steps forward. And lights every inch of you on fire—

“Wake up. It’s not real. Wake up.” That same voice, but this time, it’s gentle. And the hands on your shoulders don’t pin you down, but guide you up, keeping you from falling right off the bed as you jerk up and awake.

Steve pulls his hands back as soon as you’re steady, but he stays, perched on the edge of the mattress, his expression concerned.

“There we go. You’re okay. It was just a dream,” he says.

You rake a hand through your hair, huffing a breath.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?”

Steve’s lips pull thin, and he gives you a sheepish smile.

“Thin walls,” he says. “I don’t sleep that great these days, anyway.”

And he doesn’t voice the unspoken, the reason he doesn’t sleep well.

Not for the first time, you consider Steve’s side of all this, but for the first time, you’re able to follow the train of thought without panic riding along.

You’re able to see how much he’s been hurting, too. You’re able to see that you broke his heart.

“Thank you,” you say, but you don’t just mean for this, but for all of it. For what he’s given up and left behind because you needed him to.

He nods. Pushes to his feet.

“Anytime,” he says. He clears his throat. “Try and get some rest, okay?”

He starts toward the door.

“Wait.”

Steve stops halfway to the door. He turns, his expression unreadable.

“Don’t go,” you say.

Steve hesitates, like he’s waiting for you to change your mind. But you’re thinking about Eddie, of all people, and what he said earlier. About walking off the battlefield before you’re stuck on it.

And it isn’t as simple as just stepping off, but it’s the only option worth anything.

“I’m so sick of letting you walk away from me. So mad at myself, and mad at Vecna, and mad at you for—for not telling me to screw off.” You rake in a breath. “But mostly, I’m just tired. And I miss you.” You shake your head. “I miss you so much, Steve, and you’re right in front of me, and all of this—it’s all my fault. I messed it all up.”

Steve frowns. Crosses to the bed and drops back onto the edge.

“None of this,” he says fiercely, “is your fault. Do you hear me? None of it.”

You close your eyes for a long moment. When you open them, Steve has his gaze locked on the fraying edges of the quilt curled in your lap.

“I don’t want to miss you anymore. I don’t want to keep pretending I don’t love you as much as I did a month ago just because I’m scared. And I know things can’t go back to the way they were, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish they could.” You stretch a hand out, touching his own. He stills. “I wish like hell they could.”

Steve lifts his gaze to yours.

“Just tell me what to do. Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

You press your lips together. Inhale, and thread your fingers through his.

“Don’t let me go,” you say, and lean closer, dipping your forehead against his.

“Like that was ever possible,” he says. His breath is warm on your chin, and he smells like lemon shampoo and aftershave, and god, you’ve missed it. Missed him.

“Promise?”

“I promise,” he says. “Always.”

You tilt your chin up, just a bit, and press your lips to his. It’s a cautious kiss, but Steve answers with another, steady and sure.

He pulls back a bit. Licks his lips.

“Do you still see the end of the world when you look at me?” he asks.

Yes. And no. Both choices and none of them.

You take his face in your hands, and he exhales softly, leaning into your touch.

“I don’t know what I see,” you whisper. “But I know what I want to see.” You give him a tiny, sad smile. “I want to see the boy who risked his own life to save mine. Who refused to give up on me, even when I gave him every possible reason to.” You lean forward, just a bit.

“And what do you see right now?” he asks.

“I see you,” you say. “Just you.”

Steve shifts back. He’s clearly reluctant to ask, his voice low as he says, “What about tomorrow, when you wake up, and that’s not what you see anymore? When you remember the monster under your bed has my face?”

It’s a valid question. And you don’t have a good answer, because there’s no way to know. There’s just this second, right now.

But really, now is all you have.

You trace your thumb down his cheekbone, to the corner of his mouth, and back up. His eyes flutter shut.

“You fought for me. So, I can fight for you,” you say. Steve opens his eyes. You incline your head and give him a half-smile. “Even if I’m fighting myself a little to do it.”

Steve shakes his head. “Why? Why not just walk away? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. You can’t tell me it wouldn’t be easier to just leave Hawkins, and all of this shit, behind.”

You nod. “You’re right. It would be easier,” you say. “But I can’t. I can’t walk away, because that’s not what we do. You and me, we save each other.”

Steve pulls his bottom lip into his teeth. After a moment, he says, “Okay. Then we do what we always do. Take it one day at a time.”

“I think I can manage that,” you say.

Steve hesitates, then gives you a smile that makes your stomach flutter.

“It’s not the worst plan we’ve ever come up with,” he says.

And you surprise yourself by smiling.

“Don’t go lumping your bad ideas with my good ones, Harrington.”

“Don’t go crapping on my well-intentioned, but ultimately bad ideas,” he says.

You laugh, probably the first time in a month, and shake your head.

“God, I missed you,” you say.

“I missed you, too,” Steve says. Shakes his head. “So much.”  

There are a dozen more things you should say, but there’s also the time to say it. You’ve been squeezing your eyes shut for so long, you couldn’t see it. The second chance laid out at your feet.

There will be time to say everything. Right now, though, you lean in, and kiss him. A real kiss. You thread your fingers through his curls and draw him close, and he kisses you back.

You’re not entirely free of everything that happened down there. Maybe you never will be.

But you can walk off the battlefield. You will. And this is the first step.

-

taglist: @milkiane​ @spideyboipete​ @robiin-buckley​ @robinbuckleyssgf​ @la-fille-en-aiguilles​ @sunlitide​ @cityofidek​ @isshecrazyorissheclever @peanutbutter-y-jams​ @hellfire1986baby​

[etsuven]

rating: fluff cw: none includes: childe, kaeya summary: the month of love has just passed, but i still can't help but wonder what type of kisses fit these genshin men...

note: was this supposed to be a valentines day thing? maybe... but its out now! just a tadddd bit later than originally intended... this was ALSO originally supposed to include venti and kazuha as well as four others but i really need to force myself to post since its been over 30 days and get over this awful writers block please someone tell me HOWWWWW this is awful im so sorry ill try to do better in future posts

Childe: I Miss You Kiss

you're waiting for him at the docks of snezhnaya, your heart pounding in your chest as the sound of the ship horn reached your ears. bouncing on your toes, you rubbed your hands together, trying to preserve some kind of warmth in your already numb hands.

the ship is getting closer, and you can only feel yourself getting more and more worked up as time went on. why were you so excited? you were able to finally see your fiance after weeks of sending letters of love back and forth. it was a coincidence that the ship was coming back right on valentine's day, it wasn't something you were complaining about.

you watched in excitement as the ship docked, a bridge laying out in preparation for its occupants to walk out. and walk out they did, but one seemed to be a bit more eager than the others, his ginger hair standing out from the pale white you had quickly gotten used to.

before you knew it, you were enveloped in his arms, his signature scent reaching your nose and making you inhale sharply. he was finally home... a gloved hand found its way onto your cheek, and you were quickly pulled into a kiss that made you let out a silent sigh. it was a sweet kiss, something that told millions of words without actually saying anything at all.

how are you? how have you been? i've missed you.

though you couldn't say anything right now, you were more than willing to do so later- however many times it took for him to truly understand it. you were going to spend your whole lives together anyways, ten thousand more 'i miss you's' wouldn't be that hard of a thing to achieve.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Kaeya: Tension Kiss

you and kaeya had a strange relationship, something bridging on the gap between friends and lovers. the tension between the two of you wasn't normal, and you've always hoped that behind those teasing words- were actual feelings.

kaeya was a naturally charming man. a fan favorite amongst the citizens of mondstadt, he indulged in the attention, though he never seemed to take it further than a few sweet words. at least, that's how he was with everyone else.

he was different with you... light touches that made your heart flutter in your chest, teasing words that made you retaliate back with words of your own. you weren't the only one who noticed how the (in)famous cavalry captain acted around you. in fact, one of those people was his own brother.

having grew up with the man, diluc wasn't a stranger to changes in his brothers' behavior. under the guise of wanting to keep kaeya from coming from him once more in a drunken rant (that's the reason he used to explain why he was doing what he was doing. it was a lie.) diluc decided to subtly reveal to you how strange he thought kaeya was being.

"he seems to be different around you, but i can't seem to figure out why. perhaps you should ask him." those were the words he told you, and while you did feel that there was some sort of ulterior motive as to why he even mentioned that, you still decided to listen to his advice.

and that brings us to tonight. kaeya was walking you home after a long night at the bar, and his reason as to why he wanted to do this was, "you had a few drinks, it would be improper of me to let you walk home by yourself, no?"

you initiated small talk, the conversation flowing smoothly between the two of you. eventually you made it to your front door, a small sigh leaving your lips once you realized that your time together was almost done. but you still had one more thing to do.

the question left your lips slowly, almost as if you were scared that he would shut you down the second you spoke. perhaps you were scared. you asked if there was a reason as to why he seemed so different with you. kaeya's uncovered eye widened with every word, eventually settling on looking to the side as you finished speaking.

you gave him time to process your words, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you closed your eyes. seconds later, you were startled by the feeling of a slightly cool hand on your cheek. peeking an eye open, you watched as kaeya leaned in, a slightly flustered look on his face as he glanced down at your lips.

oh. so that's why he was acting this way.

"may i?" he asked, a slight tremble in his voice. you nodded slowly, taking the initiative and leaning in to kiss him. his lips were soft, and it almost seemed like they were made to perfectly fit yours. you shivered a bit, both because of the cold and because you were a tad bit nervous. but still, you didn't dare pull away.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

[tooweirdforyou]

Will u not come back? :((((

hello, anon! hope you’re doing well and apologies for the late response. I hope you see this! ❤️

so, I guess this will be my answer and also my first post in about a year or so.. Im not gonna make any excuses or whatever, and cut straight to the point.

Bit of a long post but it will explain most things without being too personal just because it’s been a long time and part of me feels as though I lost that respect and privilege of being comfortable and being myself around you guys. Anyone and everyone who stayed or is a newcomer to my account.

It’s the new year. Here’s how I’ll answer you.

Do I wish to come back? Yes.

Have I been actively attempting to come back? Yes and no. I have been attempting to work on chapters for my Quotev books, but lots of writers block and just pure unmotivated to continue with where I am. Knowing it can be better if I were to redo it, continue with force or if I simply make a new book, (( which due to my imagination and inspiration by things I’ve come across, I keep wanting to start new books. ))

Have things drastically changed for me as I’ve been away? Yeah, kinda. I mean, things are getting a little more difficult for me, I won’t go into too much detail but it’s been really difficult for me personally the last several months. I’ve never been consistent in my feelings and almost always ended up more numb, empty and sad. And some days it would be so bad that I couldn’t be alone and had to be in a room with another person I knew. I’m really working on it but it really isn’t something that just goes away, as most of may or may not understand.

Am I still dating? Yes! I’m still very happy with the guy I’ve known and started dating last year and in fact, we’ll be hitting our two years very soon. I know this may be personal but I kinda just wanted an excuse to talk about him, haha.

Now, am I still writing? / interested in writing? Definitely. I just have huge motivation problems but I definitely still love that creative form of expressing your imagination into words and making a story. The problem is that I have all these ideas and it just sucks to have to do all this beginning stuff instead of making the reader or OC in love with the person already!! 😂 but yes. I honestly do love to write still and my boyfriend tries to encourage and supports me but it’s really my own fault.

do I still Roleplay? I remember mentioning this and then making an separate acc for this but never really interacted with it often because at the time I was busy. And now, I don’t anymore because it makes my boyfriend jealous, haha. I do miss it though :)

Do I still go on tumblr? Every once in a while, which is like every two weeks or so? Or just under two weeks or sometimes longer. It depends. But yes, I do check and I do love to read every new comment and message I get, I just don’t respond to it because I’m honestly a little scared.

Will I come back? I want to. I really do. But there’s a few factors that come into play-

- so much time has passed that I worry I no longer have like a mutual bond with you all and that it’s too late for me to come back and just pretend like everything is fine. It’s not. I’m worried it’s too late to just start writing again, I guess I’m nervous? I missed being able to be comfortable and be myself on here but I don’t know. I think my time has passed.

- not only that, I don’t quite know how to use tumblr anymore.

- I can’t stick to one fandom, just like my mood swings, my current obsession changes so often that I’m worried I won’t be able to keep up with certain works or keep everyone happy with my work.

- I don’t know if I should continue mt old works ( ones on Quotev )?

Start new ones?

Go back to scenarios and oneshots like I used to?

Refresh on tumblr and continue here again?

Move to AO3?

It’s the new year and I do want to better myself and change and I really hope that that means I can start over with myself and my writings once again.

I missed all my comments and messages and having mutuals and interacting with everyone. It makes me feel connected and honestly little less lonely when my boyfriend has his long busy hours..

But to finally answer properly. Yes, I want to come back but I honestly don’t know where to start or if I can.

I’ll be checking tumblr so if anyone has any questions, comments or suggestions or whatever you wish to tell me, I will be here. Maybe by next month I’ll have an answer of what I’ll be doing in regards to writing. Whether I take any advice from you guys or make my own decision.

im very deeply sorry for my absence. I hope this answers everyone’s thoughts.

sending lots of love. ❤️ thank you to everyone.

[hexitca]

Rant about Puritan fandom culture!

Well I typed it on twitter but then I had more to say so tumblr it is!

Under read more

WARNING: Long as fuck

Here's some pics

I know I basically said the author of Heartstopper "brought it on themselves" but yea they kinda did.

You can disagree with BL/Yaoi you can hate the shipping discourse or shipping in fandom in general but you cant frame it in a "i hate [that] bc it's sinful/fetishistic and I'M ABOVE THAT BC I'M WHOLESOME AND BETTER THAN THOSE DISGUSTING SHIPPERS"

bc that's gonna bite you in the ass...as it is doing now. The fucking image of their character's google history is so tame and normal, esp in LGBTQ+ spaces! Yet they are being called a pedo? Crazy. In the end, you only hurt yourself!

I never bothered with HS bc i just wasnt interested in it but thats just my preference. It's sad to see ppl, esp young ppl, turn on a series of LGBTQ+ representation just bc of the author's past (or current? idk) stance on the BL/Yaoi or MLM or whatever genre just bc their stance wavered a bit in a simple comic image. Something that is so fucking normal also! but they will grow up and realized how limiting it is to restrict themselves just to appear pure within a group.

Yet the artists/writers/creators are traumatized by the witchhunt. I know I said the author brought it on themselves for supporting anti but damn I don't want them being accused of being a pedo! Or ANYTHING! NO ONE DESERVES THAT. I dont know anything about the author other than surface knowledge but at the end of the day, all this online shit, doesnt matter. It doesnt! Me saying that is ironic bc im typing this post up right now!

but it's something we care about! I care about fandom spaces, I care that creators are getting attack for something as mild as this even if they invited these ppl into their circle. We're human and we change our views a million times a fucking day. I could agree with one thing and disagree with it another. That's why anti discourse pisses me the hell off! It's just a bunch of bullies looking to make themselves feel better by shaming others! I don't respect that type of behavior. And I hate that they just run around saying shit like "kys" over a two characters fucking?!? It amazes me beyond words.

Fandom has never been without its discourse. But the puritan bullshit is not even fandom discourse, it's just straight up bullying and harassment. It doesnt take much to tailor your fandom spaces to your preferences, i should know ive been in fandom spaces since I was fucking 13 years old. I didn't explore nsfw/porn/anything until I wanted to when I was 18. That is MY personal experience. I never put that on anyone else BUT MYSELF. If I saw nsfw and didnt want to see it I blocked the person. Not make a fucking witch hunt out of it. You are in charge of keeping YOURSELF in check not some person who shared nsfw art/fanfic. How fucking hard is it to turn the "don't show me nsfw" toggle on??? Bc it's not about that. Y'all just wanna be mad and be above someone so why not ppl minding their own business.

And guess what? There ARE ppl who are bad and support nsfw art/writing. They fucking suck. They are outliers and deserve to be called out when they get exposed. But many times, ppl always go "see i told you all the ppl in THAT fandom were pedos/freaks/etc" hmmm sounds like when conservatives go "see...that queer person turned out to be bad, SO all queer ppl are bad" DO YOU GET IT?? It never works out with that line of thinking. You are harming innocent ppl minding their own business. You are harming yourselves when you grow the fuck up and realize that "OH actually...I am curious about sex" and have ppl who you thought were your friends eat your face. PLS wake the fuck up.

If you're an anti:

I hope you recover from that

go fuck yourself

if you're offended by me saying "go fuck yourself", pls take that as a sign to log off the internet and go touch grass. As someone who has done that many of times, it's very refreshing.

[moroneur]

Pick up, move on.

hi there! this is a little continuation of Wishing upon shooting stars! I originally wanted to leave it be as it is but had to get over my writers block somehow! Also some readers requested a happy ending for our dear Y/n, so heres a little one shot to show you thigs are going good :) its very short but im quite happy with how it turned out . Heres PART 1 {} PART 2

It had been a month or so since your breakup with Wine. You moved out of your apartment, stayed away from any and all bars, got a new job. Things have changed, and you’re too busy to tell if it's for the better or not. At least you don't have to think about any dismissive boyfriends now. Currently at the mall, you try to stay focused on picking the best tomatoes. 

You try to focus on this mundane task but sometimes, when your mind decides to mess with you, it strays away. To that night, at grillby’s where your last date with Wine had transpired. Where he met another woman, where you met rejection. In your drunken stupor you’d almost have a mental breakdown, but another skeleton was there to set you on the right path again. He’d been there for you, heard you out, and even called you cab. You were grateful and you hope to get a chance to see him again, maybe give him a thank-you gift. He had been the last push you needed to set yourself free afterall, and it meant a lot to you. 

Ah, these ones are good enough. You put the last tomato in your plastic bag and tie it. Next stop will be the pasta section. You sigh. I do wonder how he’s doing right no- 

“ow! fuckin’ hell! watch where ya goin’ you... human?” His angry voice fizzled out into one of confusion. “Red!” You’re pleasantly surprised, even if half of your groceries are on the floor. Did you manifest him? You should think about money more then. You reach to pick up your fallen things as he stands up. “Sorry for bumping into you.” You notice something else on the floor, that isn't yours. A bottle of mustard. You reach for it and hand it over to him. He didn't notice anything fell, and accepted the bottle with a little grin. “s’nothing. glad ya remembered m’name, human.” 

You went home a lot later that day. You didn't mind though, at least you caught up to Red, his 

number saved on your phone (and yours on his).

Work has been getting increasingly difficult lately, and you just can't help but crave for a break. An actual break, not a quick smoke or a 5-minutes coffee break. It’s not healthy, and you’re so frustrated because your stupidass coworkers can't seem to do the stupidass job right and– 

Safe to say that your only friend who's awake after 11 p.m. is Red. You both went to each other to vent about work and life in general, and the knowledge of someone having almost the same problems as you makes you (selfishly) sleep better at night. You hope Red feels the same. 

Tonight was one of those nights. You didn’t really feel tired, so you were on your phone, talking to Red about the things that transpired today.

Dumb edgy bitch

Yo.

Me: Sup

Dumb edgy bitch: Im heading to grillbys in an hour, dyou feel up to joining me?

Me: If this is a scheme for a date then i must decline

Dumb edgy bitch: Im not just a flirt yknow. Thought u knew me better smh

Me: Just makin sure. Ye im up to it. See u there :)

It’s a good thing you weren't very tired tonight. You were invited to the same Grillby’s as.. That time. But that's fine. You’re not going on a date this time and you will make sure you enjoy yourself (because you know you're gonna hate yourself the next morning once you wake up for work with a headache). You make yourself a strong coffee, just in case, and get dressed in a casual outfit.

You arrive at Grillby’s in no time. Actually, right on time, it's 11:55 p.m., might as well order a beer or whatever. You take a deep breath, nervous. The last time you’ve been here, you’d gotten plenty of pitiful looks from Grillby. Perhaps you’ll flirt with him to see him embarrassed (he seems so stoic, is that even possible? Well, you’ll find out!) as a little bit of revenge. 

Determination fueling your steps, you open the door.

[arthurtaylorlester]

BONUS EP LIVE BLOG

spoilers obviously

warning I get a little heated about calliope

A DREAM OF A THOUSAND CATS LIVEBLOG

starting at 2 minutes in

PAUL DONT YOU FUCKING DARe

HE DROWNED KITTENS

I FUCKING HATE BREEDERS

SHE FUCKING UNDERSTANDS

YEs SLAY GIRL CATS ARE BETTER TAKE OVER HUMANS

ooooh dreams? dreams you say

skeleton vulture go mrrrp

aww poor kittens

siamese you dont deserve this

we love a dedicated cat

THE ARTSTYLE IS SO COOL

cat of dreams?

dream is a wet cat confirmed?

CAT DREAM IS SO COOL

GENDER ENVY OHOHOOHIHJOHI

oh my god eye imagery

i love it everytime

GIANT KITTIES!?

hahahaha cat and man

ooh dream man disciple

WHAT TTHE FFUCK

dreams do change the world

timelines realities this show keeps getting better and better

EAT PAUL EAT PAUL EAT PAUL

ok you should leave instead that makes more sense

i love you siamese i love you siamese i love you siamese i love you siamese i love you siamese i love you siamese

can you tell I like cats

cats are chaotic true

wait

shes hunting yall

THAT WAS EPIC

CALLIOPE LIVEBLOG

mysterious lecturer man talking about writing

who's lady

research?

girl hes uninterested

that was mean

nora aight

what the fuck did you give him nora

nora you like him it's so obvious

girl he isn't writing hes in writers block

mysterious man 2

he reminds me of remus lupin tbh

richard i mean

A YEAR!?

and the thing nora gave him was

a bezoar?

interesting get to the point old man

ooh greek mythos you say?

"ooh calliope is a muse

they summon her

get her trapped like dream

he save her"

<- prediction for the ep

what thhe ffu k

BITCH MR FRY OR QHATEEVR THE FUCK YOuR NAME IS

CALLIOPE PLEASE KICK ONE OF THEM IN THE BALLS

shes hot though, nothing to do with the show, but I'll let her fuck me

FUCK YOU MEN FROM THE SANDMAN TV SERIES BONUS EPISODE "dream of a thousand cats/ calliope" (i hc dream as nb)

richard you need to free her idc about your book

YOU TELL HIM CALLIOPE

BUT WHAT RICHARD

YOU FUCKING KNWO YOU WONT

im a writer i confirm writers are liars

BITVH WHAY RICHARD FUCK YOu

I HATE WHITE MEN LIKE RIXHARD

reddit user too? really?

NOT TWITTER

YOU CANT EXPECT INSPIRATION TO HIT YOY LIKE A BAT YOU NEED TO GO PRY THE INSPIRATION FROM DEATHS COLD HANDS. WHICH DOES NOT MEAN KIDNAPPING AN ANCIENT GREEK GODDESS

if you freed her she wouldve given you inspo immediately

Richard im sorry but your book /=/ someones freedom

ok youre drowning go on break

also no one is forcing you to write a second book just tell them you dont wanna

ok so someone is forcing you to write it

still doesn't put you in the right

free her shell give the goddamn inspo a

NONONONOJONINONO

RICHARD IF YOU FUCKING DARE

I WILL

youre a fictional characters i wont do shit but

NONONONON

calliope you fought back you did well

fucking incel

HEAR HER PRAYER

HEAR HER

hecate!!!!!!

call dream call dream call dream call dream

my favourite white boy rn call him call him

bitch what did yall do to eachother

OJSGJSJDKD

husband?????????

YES

YOU NOTH GOT TRAPPED WHAT

HOPE = DREAM CALLIOPE DO IT DO IT DO UT

jo rowling ?? ew like joke rowling is better

DREAAAAAAM PLEASEEEEE SHOW UP.

also what is it with dream and badly ending relationship with women wno deserve better

RICHARD??? WRITING STRONG FEMALE CHARACTERS BITCH YOU RAPED A GOD

i hate him

FEMINIST

YOU ONLY WANT YO FUCK YOU INCEL

WOMEN IN YORU LIFE YOU MEAN THE ONLY ONE IS HELD AGAINST HER WILL

OUR SUCCESS????

shes trapped what are you on ffs

they are people not objects you cunt

oh woc poc boohoo fake rep

escape girl

pause im eating lunch

DREAAAAAM HES HERE

ric getting the authors wrong because hes guilty and only naming women was deserved

glad fry guy got what he deserved

inspire him dream if you dont ill fight you

PUNISH HIM DREAM

DREAM AND CALLIOPE BEING BESTIES IS SOMETHING I NEED NOW

ok but dream what did you do

ooh lingering feelings?

ya are kinda really close

OHOHOOHO DREAM SLAY

your ideas arent evn your fucking own you bitch

60 YEARS!!!!

DREAM KNOWS THAT PAIN

OH IT WAS A DREAM YEAH THAT MAKES SENSE

smile calliope look hot owning him

yOu had A SON

wow divorcees calliope and dream being friends pleasepleasepleaseplease

nora nooooo hes a rapist

CURSE OF IDEAS YES

SLAY MORPHEUS AND CALLIOPE

morphlliope?

calliopheus?

dreamuse

SLAYYYYYYYY

REWRITE IT

yes dream my fav feminist

oh so calliope left dream

what happened

dream growth yesssssss

no dont release him

keep like that forever

fair enough calliope, i get your point

SHAPER OF FORMS???? BITCH ITS MORPHEUS

pathetic little man (derogatory)

pathetic little man (affectionate)

yk who is who

yes who is your son

oh hes dead

dream needs space, i get him

fun fact i changed my tumblr other user for oneiros

hes so cool

CALLIOPE GETS HER HAPPY ENDING :D

[upwardwrites]

In Search of Pause

The best metaphor for my first draft (and the subsequent “Draft 1.5″) is a drunk flailing person streaking the quad and running into a tree.

I knew the second draft would entail a great deal of rework.. I had learned a lot about the characters and world I wanted to create in the discovery phase and while it rested. I made a scene list and a plan, and eventually I reached the point where I was writing everything new instead of revising. 

Then a week ago, I stared at my screen and couldn’t write. I chalked it up to a bad day. I was tired. Then it happened again the next day. And the next. Every night, I sat down and let my characters loose and they did nothing. I had everything spelled out and they just refused. 

I called it writers block, hoping it was, but I’ve known something was broken. I was repainting cracks in the walls when I should have been looking at the foundation. Because I never actually let it set. 

Over the last few months, I have tightened my story and strengthened the links and upped the stakes. I have deepened the world and found better connections that make it both leaner and richer. I changed the outline ahead, but I didn’t go back. I just made a note. Little things mostly. “Make this plant life weirder” or “Actually she’d be funnier here”. Filled in backstory. They keep happening 10k, 30k, 42,309 or 84,148 words in and I just keep grabbing at them and I keep working them in. 

But now ...  Sadie didn’t leave because her father kicked her out with no reason. She left because he’d lost their home, gambling away what money he’d spend on the mortgage. And he didn’t tell her, confident as he was that he’d get it back. She came home to the eviction notice on the door.

And tweak after tweak to Eugene means that one of his goals -- “convince her to stay in Snowbird because she’s pretty” -- changed to “she knows how to make ammunition and we’re out of it even though she’s obnoxious” and then LATER it becomes “clever girl can make us these high tech defenses, we won’t have to worry about aliens ever again! Maybe she can teach me”. He still thinks she’s pretty but it’s more now. It’s better.

Except when I throw them into a scene rooted in the concept of “a sense of place,” they don’t follow the paths I’ve laid out for them anymore. They wouldn’t. They’re different. And the next scene was even worse. It cracked and cracked and cracked. 

Oh and remember this?  https://www.tumblr.com/upwardwrites/701834091099766784/im-consolidating-my-notes-over-the-next-few-days

Just me changing the ENTIRE WAY humans react to the world and treat the things around them -- AND ALSO the motivations of the alien race that kickstarted all this bullshit. 

OH! OH! Didn’t even get a chance to mention that I changed the entire definition of a Butcher Bird in the world lore two weeks ago. I -- literally -- changed the meaning behind the title while I tapped away 81k words in.

And I’m here googling “why stuck on write words??”

I am staring at a blank page because one hand is writing one book and the other is writing a different, worse one. I know that first book could be really good. Great even. But not if I keep going like this. I also know I’ll keep having really good OR really questionable but maybe brilliant ideas that change things. That’s a problem for later.

It’s time to hit pause.

Time to finalize the world, including my characters, and set it. Really set it, so I have the rules. Time to outline each scene in depth and find what works and what doesn’t and what needs to change according to these new rules. All the way through to the end. I’ve known how Butcher Bird 1 ends for a while, but right now, the path there is as washed out as the road up the mountain to Snowbird. 

Then, and only then, I will open a new Scrivener document and I will start again at page 1.

[dojunie]

as a writer myself too, i definitely get the frustration of writer's block. ur better than me tho could never write fiction this good. if it's a script maybe i can stumble my way towards it but like- prose, prose??? scary stuff HAHAHHA. i'm wayyy more used to writing features, editorial and stuff like that so writing creatively paralyzes me fr probs should get over it HAHAHHA

speaking of writing tho, recently got my first ever job (full time over the summer and part time when i get back to school!) helping this creator write content for a website she's launching and probs gonna be helping her with her podcast too hehe (i'm also more of a broadcast person too over like publication writing so that's gonna be fun). so life's been reallyyyy busy. like i started preparing for freelance work since may and after like- 11 applications so glad i finally got a job but damn being paid to do something is a whole different kind of pressure. doing my best but sometimes i'm scared it won't be good enough and i'll just get fired HAHAHAH the days are starting to get blurry too bc i've kinda just been cooped up at home. anddd been trying to ✨adult✨ too by getting my driver's license, tax number, social security and all that but ghad with a job? idt i'll have the time to fix all that anymore. and i'm hoping to take the topik too so :">

times like this are when im rlly glad i got dream. like they rlly just give me that energy boost HAHAHAH (AND WITH THE NEW COMEBACK SOON??? AHHHH) r they like that for u too? i swear this is the first time i've wanted to get a tattoo for an artist like woah

oh and SPEAKING OF i was in the manila concert day 1 all the way in the farthest section. actually got really determined to work bc of that experience bc i am determined to go both days vip the next time they're in manila HAHAHHA. happy to say i'll most likely earn enough to do that by next month hehe. gonna treat myself for the hard work by getting mark's bubble HAHAHHA

haven't gotten to reading the new renjun fic updates (unless my eyes are deceiving me and i read that wrong & there r not updates) but! i'm rlly looking forward to it. hoping both of us have enough writing juices to finish up the things we're working on HAHAHHA. and i hope you're doing well with school or work or whatever your doing too! and when things get tough hope u have a support system there for ya :>

anywayy i'll go skidaddle now HAHHAHA worked 8hrs today so 💀 byee

(p.s. by any chance do u have any plans of writing any series for mark? would KILL to have ur writing bring his character to life if not that's SUPERRRR chill too frfr jus curious hehe)

frm the biggest phatest markf,

-covid anon 🤒 HAHAHAH

you calling my 'ripping my hair out slamming words into the keyboard at 1am' writing prose is such a huge compliment my dear covid anon, you have no idea. never in my life have i considered anything ive written to be like... serious... because i just enjoy writing about a bunch of singin dancin boys, but. i do put an obscene (and embarrassing) amount of care and work and thought into this little fanfiction thing and i just. thank you? blowing kisses all the way to your timezone

anddd been trying to ✨adult✨ too by getting my driver's license, tax number, social security and all that but ghad with a job? idt i'll have the time to fix all that anymore. and i'm hoping to take the topik too so :">

GODDAMN! you have your plate full, but frankly those are all really, really good and important and STRONG steps towards adulting!! you're further than me, i dont have my license yet (haven't even started, rahh, uber is my best friend) but whenever i come on here i think of you, covid anon, so hearing this makes me feel like an irl just told me they accomplished something big LOL i'm actually so happy for you. these are big steps. AND THE NEW CB IS ALREADY FUCKING ME UP! IDGAF RENJUN IN THAT LITTLE PAPERBOY CAP, LEAVE ME ALONE LEAVE ME ALONE I'M UNWELL!!!!!! today the second theme dropped (idk if you'll see this on the same day as i send it) with the energy drinks and such, and the fuckig... neon concept...!!!!!!!! i wanted to get a tattoo for my bts era like a 7 or something like that on a very tiny part of my body but then i remembered how i genuinely thought i would be a 5sos fan forever and i was like 'lets hold off on that very, very permanent decision lmfao'

AND TO ANSWER YOUR MARK QUESTION! you messaging me this actually did make me go through all of my potential wips (all.... very very many of them) and one that i found for mark that i'm actually still very interested in is an exchange student concept! little plot: mc is a part of a university exchange student program, and with that comes staying with a host family; the uni that mc is from does it in a raffle/blind matching style where you get put with a family who's profile matches with yours best, and mc gets.... the lee family! with eldest brother and vaguely famous rockstar taeyong, awkward and endearing middle child mark lee, and the night and day '00 twins'; sunshine incarnate lee donghyuck, and 'doesn't speak unless spoken to' lee jeno!!! it takes place over six months in the summer to autumn season, the first semester; and love blooms in the damndest places!

if this sounds like something you'd like, maybe i could fandangle this for my next wip...? winky face

anyway i love you lots covid anon, i hope your adulting goes on without a hitch!!!! until you message again <3

[brutal-nemesis]

End of Summer: Einn Captures One (1) Boy

Ohoho boy I finally got inspiration and finished my dang WIP!! Months of staring at a google doc I tell ya...

Thank you very much for beta reading @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi​!!

Masterlist - Next→

Ingredients: Burning, electrical shock, stabbing/impalement, dehumanization, slight drowning

Jairus looked at the note he’d found in his room earlier that day. Midnight. The field outside of the East Gate. We will end this one way or another. He was sure he was in the right place, and it was likely a few minutes past midnight. Sighing, he looked at his left arm and watched the moonlight glint off the black dragon scales that covered it. The night was clear and warm with summer’s fading heat, making it a good night for a fight to the death. Not that there was any chance of him losing. He hadn’t left any sort of note for his friends before he snuck out, but there was no need. He was going to beat that witch to a pulp for everything she’d done. She’d turned an innocent child into the first demon hybrid and kept her captive for years. Even after Jairus and his friends rescued her, Einn kept coming after them. It was his job to end this, to keep Nekurai safe from her clutches forever. He was the first dragon hybrid, the undefeated hero, after all.

“There you are, hybrid.” Jairus turned towards the sound of her voice. Einn sauntered up to him, a sly smile on her face. “The fact that you’re here means that you’re ready to lose everything you hold dear, yes?”

“Just because I’m willing to lose it doesn’t mean that I will. I’ve beaten you countless times before and I’ll do it again. But this time,” he leveled his spear and pointed it at her heart, “I will kill you.”

“What a lovely future you’ve dreamed up.” Einn turned and walked a few paces away before turning to face him again. “Unfortunately, we don’t always get what we want in this world.” She spread her arms wide. “So let’s see if you can do it. Come at me with everything you have, little dragon. I won’t stop your first strike. Show me that you have what it takes.” 

“Oh, believe me, I do.” Jairus readied for his assault, electricity racing along his spear. “Letting me have the first hit will be your last mistake.” He lept at her, yelling out, “You’re already dead, witch!” The attack connected, sending out a spray of blood as waves of electricity coursed through Einn’s body. Jairus pulled his weapon out and jabbed her again and again in quick succession, each hit sending another shock through her. He aimed his final strike at her heart, stabbing it in as deep as he could before using the last bit of magic he could spare for one last shock. Panting, he stopped for a moment as the dizziness that accompanied magic overuse started to wash over him. He had given that his everything. It had to have been enough. 

Einn stared at the spearhead buried in her chest, smiling. “Not bad,” she said as she grabbed the spear and wrenched it out, tossing it away, leaving another gaping hole in her chest. “Not bad for a half-human.” Jairus watched in disbelief as her flesh slowly knit itself back together. That’d never happened before. It shouldn't even be possible for her to use water magic, especially of such a high level to heal a wound like that so quickly. Her magical attribute was fire, and wizards should only be able to use spells associated with their attribute and its two sister elements, and fire’s were earth and lightning, not water. But there was no time to dwell on it, Einn had already finished healing and she was glaring at him hungrily. “Now it’s my turn.” As she began the chant for a spell, Jairus slowly backed towards the place where she’d thrown his spear. It was taking so long to cast, he might just be able to get his spear back before she finished. He reached out-

FIRE.

Jairus cried out and yanked his scorched left arm out of the wall of flames that had burst up between him and his weapon. Cradling his arm as it healed, his gaze of disbelief flicked back and forth between Einn and the fire she had cast. It was way more advanced than any spell he’d ever seen her use. Before he even had time to process, the ground beneath him began to shake violently and three walls of earth rose up around him, effectively trapping him. He tried to run away, but a blast of air slammed him back into the wall. Darkness clouded his vision for a second, clearing just in time for him to see a huge wave of water roaring towards him. It crashed into him, tossing him around like a ragdoll in its currents. When the water receded, Jairus ended up on his hands and knees, coughing up the water that had filled his lungs as his thoughts raced. How was this even possible? It would take lifetimes to master elements not associated with your affiliate, and Einn hardly looked older than thirty. Only the great sorceresses of old had been able to use more than three elements of magic, and Einn had already used four, two of which she shouldn’t even be able to. 

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted his spear. The water had washed him outside the earth walls Einn had created, giving him an opportunity to get his weapon back. He got up and dashed towards it. If he could just get it back, he could fight back, he could defeat her. He had almost reached in when something slammed him in the abdomen, stopping him in his tracks. Something cold. 

Jagged spikes of ice pierced his stomach, their crystalline surfaces coated with his blood. Einn retracted the ice with a wave of her hand, and he collapsed on the ground, staring in disbelief at the gaping hole in his abdomen. It had been less than a minute and Einn had completely overpowered him but she didn’t defeat him, there’s no way she could, that wasn’t possible. Oh god, there was so much blood. He didn’t know he could bleed that much. Waves of dizziness washed over him as he tried to beat down the fear rising in his chest. Was he actually going to die? Here? Now? Because of her?

“That’s all it took? I was hoping you would be more of a challenge,” Einn said condescendingly, bending over him. “Oh well, you’ll still be plenty useful. And don’t worry, I won’t let you die.”

“What...what the hell...are you,” Jairus gasped, one hand clutching his stomach as he struggled to rise. Einn stomped on Jairus’s back, digging her heel in to keep him on the ground.

“Well, let’s see. I am a liar, for sure. A sorceress. And,” she leaned down, electricity crackling between her fingertips, “your worst nightmare.” 

A cold hand grabbed the back of his neck, and the world dissolved into white-hot pain.

[havin-a-wee]

If Only She Knew

pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader

word count: 4.2k

warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap

hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY

“Geez watch where you’re going!”

You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.

Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.

High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.

“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.

“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.

Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.

After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.

But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.

You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.

You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.

You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.

It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.

However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.

You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.

It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.

“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”

“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.

“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”

“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.

“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.

The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.

Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.

“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.

Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.

The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.

“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.

Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.

Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.

“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.

“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”

“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”

“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.

“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.

In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.

At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.

The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.

“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.

“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”

“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.

“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”

“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.

Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.

And now you wait.

Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.

He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.

When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.

Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.

“Y’can’t do that.”

Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.

“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.

“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”

“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.

“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.

“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.

You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).

He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.

“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.

“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.

“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”

The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.

Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.

“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”

“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.

You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.

You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.

“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.

“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”

“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”

“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.

“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.

“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.

“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”

“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.

All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.

As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.

You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.

“Harry?”

He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.

“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”

“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.

“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.

“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”

“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.

You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.

“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.

“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.

“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.

“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.

“Ugh! What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”

[starglow-xx]

hello! may i request headcanons for chuuya having a crush on someone who's dense? like he could ask them out in the most straightforward way possible and it would still go over their head?

yes, yes of course you may!

sorry this took so long! my computer was out of commission for abt a week (or two..??)

but this is also my birthday writing piece for chuuya!! (4/29/21) i even added a small drabble thingy in addition to the hcs for the occasion hehe

from where i am, it is about fifteen minutes past midnight so it’s officially chuuya day here!!

happy birthday chuuya i love you! you deserve the whole world and everyone is willing to fight tooth and nail to ensure your happiness! we love you! 💗💗

anyways, i hope you all enjoy this! i kinda had some writer’s block but it was still a lot of fun to write! there might be some mistakes, but i’ll scan over it again later. reader is gender neutral! have fun!

chuuya having a crush on a dense! reader

nakahara chuuya x gn! reader

im cackling somebody help him

he’s frustrated bc you can’t take a hint or a thousand but he can’t even be mad bc he’s whipped

“look at you all dressed up today, wanna go out later? my treat?”

“oh really? thanks chuuya-san! you’re such a nice friend. i’ll go invite the others right now, i’ll see you later!”

“...”

fast forward to later in the evening and he finds himself at a little restaurant with the black lizard + higuchi and akutagawa

sigh

in unison all of them go, “thank you for the meal chuuya-san!” (except aku and hirotsu are quieter & and gin just a nods hehe)

“no problem” (ꐦ ´͈ ᗨ `͈ )

gin only pats him on the back in sympathy

he spends a lot of time trying to think of ways to make it absolutely and undeniably clear that he has feelings for you

he always fails

“(y/n) i like you”

“i like you too chuuya-san”

“really?”

“mhm”

“t-then will you—”

“you’re a really great friend! and superior too”

“...nevermind”

“oh were you saying something?”

“nah, just forget about it”

tachihara is laughing in the corner of the corridor

dont worry, chuuya made sure to get back at him

chuuya’s been pinning after you for years and frankly, his failed attempts to woo you has lead everyone to the breaking point

and i mean everyone

yes, even aku

hell even dazai

but dazai also thinks it’s funny, so he doesn’t mind all that much

okay bye bye dazai-san this headcanon set isn’t abt you rn

PLEASE EVERYONE FEELS SO BAD FOR HIM

they knew even if he kissed you, you still might not get it

so they decided to help him

super secret mission get chuuya and (y/n) together is a go!

they’re still working on a proper mission name, don’t mind them

they had a super secret strategy meeting!

you can bet your ass that they nearly got nothing done

akutagawa & kaiji weren’t much help, neither was higuchi, mori, or elise

tachihara nearly got killed for a thoughtless comment

“just tell them chuuya-san!”

“i already fucking did you ass!”

gin, hirotsu, and kouyou were the most helpful !!

hirotsu and kouyou both agreed on the idea that chuuya should try courting with bouquets of flowers instead of flat out asking you bc they knew you found them pretty

(even if you don’t identify as a female, flowers are for everyone no matter gender or sexuality! so let’s normalize giving flowers to everyone <33 )

gin didn’t speak but she used cards to communicate

everyone knew that you weren’t stupid (you wouldn’t have survived in the mafia if you were) but they did know that you were only stupid when it came to all this lovey dovey stuff

i mean, if chuuya gave you flowers every so often, there’s no way that you wouldn’t piece it together at some point

right...??

but kouyou assured him that even though you wouldn’t get it right away, you’d appreciate the gestures and that he’ll stand out more

she even said that if someone gave her flowers, she would appreciate it, whether or not she reciprocated their feelings

it takes guts to be so up front with your feelings after all

gin and hirotsu only nodded with her explanation

once again, this only provoked a reaction out of tachihara

“what do you know gin? i get the old man and kouyou-san, they’re grown, but you? what do you know abt courting? or flowers? what are you a girl?”

akutagawa choked on his cough, higuchi on air, and on the other side of yokohoma at the ada, dazai is cackling

yes, dazai somehow placed a listening device onto chuuya’s hat and was listening in

don’t ask how, it’s dazai

“DAZAI GET YOUR BANDAGED ASS OFF THE COUCH AND STOP LAUGHING”

anyways

the next day, chuuya did what was barely discussed and for once, things actually started to look up

until they started look to down again

at first, it actually looked like you understood his intentions after he gave you a bouquet of flowers

literally everyone was leaning against the opposite hallway you two were in and then they got excited !!

especially chuuya !

but then your expression sort of changed...??

and then in their heads they simultaneously went, “oh no”

they knew that expression

it was very familiar when you tended to friend zone chuuya

but boy let me tell you what you said next made them facepalm and or make their jaws drop

“ah, so you really are friend zoning me huh chuuya-san; what a shame, i really did like you”

LEMME TELL YOU WHEN I SAY THAT CHUUYA WAS DISTRESSED I MEAN HE WAS DISTRESSED

you liked him??

him of all people??

he wasn’t complaining, no of course not, but he still couldn’t believe it

but that wasn’t what he was really focusing on right now

what in any form or language did it say he was friend zoning you?!

flower language apparently

chuuya chose to buy the bouquet of yellow roses, pink carnations, and yellow carnations bc he thought you would appreciate the brighter colors, and so that you’d remember them better (because remembering them, meant remembering him)

but ooh boy

altogether, they meant the exact opposite message he wanted to send

someone help him pls

“you see chuuya-san, yellow roses mean friendship, pink carnations mean gratitude, and yellow carnations mean rejection; sooo in a nutshell, these pretty much say ‘thank you for being my friend, but im rejecting you”

no one can tell if tachihara is crying or wheezing

and dazai is having the time of his life

yes, he started listening in on him again

and chuuya is just stunned

like speechless and unmoving stunned

is he just bad at this whole courting/dating thing?? it’s only been one day and of it and somehow he was the one doing the rejecting??

“thank you for the flowers chuuya-san, i’ll be going now; i’ll make sure to let this affect our friendship. i’ll see you tomorrow!”

you passed by the not so subtle group of people

“tachihara-kun..?? are you alright?”

just for context, he was leaning his forehead against the wall using his forearm

again, it was hard to tell whether he was crying or wheezing

“i-im okay (y/n)-san...i think c-chuuya-san has it worse than me”

“...okay..?”

BACK TO CHUUYA

he’s still frozen poor baby

but it’s okay bc after like 5 more seconds he’s chasing you down the hallway you were walking in

kouyou, with a knowing smile on her face, ushers everyone away towards the opposite direction

she received some whines (ahem, tachihara and mori) but silenced them by summoning golden demon

but it’s okay

if they run fast enough, they can see what happens through the security cameras

chuuya caught up with you and tried to explain everything but he was exhausted

emotionally, physically (bc since when did you walk that fast??), and generally just tired with the whole situation

he just wanted to call you his; was that too much to ask??

as explosive as he can be, he can be calm and collected too

and he really did try to be that way as he talked with you but it was very difficult at the moment

the dumbfounded and confused look on your face his face twitch with annoyance and his heart started beating faster bc god you were cute

BUT THATS BESIDES THE POINT RIGHT NOW

thank goodness after what seemed like years, you finally somewhat understood what happened

you didn’t understand completely but it was something

The two of you stood in the middle of the unusually empty hallway facing each other, you with the bouquet still in hand. It was quiet as you and Chuuya assessed the situation.

You looked at him skeptically and he stared right back you with his gorgeous blue eyes.

“...So you do like me Chuuya-san??”

“Yes”

“And you were trying to court me just now, not friend zone me??”

“Yes”

You got most of your questions out of the way, but there was something that you’ve been wondering about for quite a while.

“...So you’re not gay for Dazai-san??”

“Yes, im not wait—GAY FOR DAZAI?? THAT MACKEREL??”

Chuuya did a double take. What in heavens name made it seem like he liked that suicidal maniac?? Why would he choose him if he had you?

Like he would choose him anyways; or ever consider him as a possible romantic partner.

“Oh, so you are?”

“NO! I SAID I LIKED YOU DIDN’T I?”

“Well yeah, but I thought you liked Dazai-san too. As annoying as he is, he can be quite charming—”

He was out of patience at this point (nope definitely not because you were talking about Dazai who told you that?) and just decided to kiss you.

You immediately melted into the kiss and kissed him back with the same amount of love and feeling.

Letting the bouquet fall to the ground, you wrapped you arms around his neck and his put his on your lower back and brought you closer to him. After a few more moments, the two of you broke apart for air.

The two of you, slightly out of breath, leaned your foreheads against each other and just basked in each others presence.

Chuuya looked into your (e/c) eyes and asked you just a little bit above a whisper, “Now do you get my intentions and feeling?”

You blinked at him before breaking out into a grin, “Hmm I’m not sure; do you wanna do that again Chuuya?”

The red head only blinked back at you before rolling his eyes, a smile present on his handsome features, his heart fluttering at you using his name with the honorific.

“Dumbass”

Smiling cheekily at him, you pressed a kiss on his cheek and started dragging him towards the lobby to take a walk around the building perimeter, knowing that the two of you can’t be too far from work.

The way down to the lobby was mostly in comfortable silence until you said something that made Chuuya want to bash his head against the wall.

“You know, you could’ve just told me you liked me Chuuya. It’s not like I would’ve said no.”

Once again, as the rest of the more power mafia members watch from security cameras, it is hard to tell whether Tachihara is crying or wheezing of laughter.

omake !!

The two of you just started making your way around the building when suddenly a very familiar voice came from Chuuya’s prized hat.

“Chuuyaaaa!! It was about time you stopped being a chicken, Chibi!”

Removing his hat from his head, he started yelling at it not knowing exactly where the listening device was planted.

“TEME! HOW DID YOU—”

“And (y/n)! I would congratulate you, but I think I would rather offer you my condolences. Why him?! He’s just a slimy slug. OOH OOH how would you like to join me in a double suicide?! A shame it won’t be a lover’s suicide but it’ll annoy Chuuya so I think it’ll be worth it! ”

“YOU—”

“And please don’t kiss while I’m listening in. You made me lose my appetite! And it was such a shame! I was eating crab using Kunikida-kun’s money! Do you know what you’ve cost me?!”

“DAZAI YOU PIECE OF—”

“Ah! Kunikida-kun is here! I have to go!”

You can hear something is the background that vaguely sounds like, “DAZAI YOU WASTE OF BANDAGES STOP USING MY MONEY”

“DAZAI DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE IM NOT DONE WITH—”

*Click!*

The click sound from the hat revealed that Dazai disconnected.

Chuuya twitched and glared furiously at his signature hat hating that the voice he hated the most came out of it.

“Aww, I didn’t get to talk to Dazai-san”

Chuuya whipped his head towards you, a look of mock (or real) betrayal showing on his features.

You laughed at him before taking the hat out of his hands and placing it on his head.

He shyly looked away before muttering a thanks making you smile wider. Just as the two of you were about to start walking, a small explosion erupted from his hat; it was likely that Dazai made the listening device self destruct.

“DAZAI YOU BASTARDD”

At the Armed Detective Agency, a certain suicidal maniac hid from the wrath of his current partner as he thought about the wrath his old one.

“Hmmm I wonder if Chuuya would finally stop wearing his ugly hats if I blow all of them up...”

as always, reblogs and shares are appreciated! i hope you all stay safe! and just in case nobody told you they loved you today, i love you! you are enough! <3

writing belongs to me! please do not plagiarize! the reblog button is there for a reason

[technowoah]

hey hey hey! i really really really love ur works and wanna reuwest a purpled x reader one. also since purpled said hes only comfy with his character what about the reader losing their last cannon life to dream and purpled gets really really sad until like- a month later, she comes back from hell. kinda like c!jacks revival. If your not comfy with this pls ignore <3

My Mission

Purpled is still trying to figure out how to deal with your death, but before he can you come back.

- Platonic Purpled x Revived!Reader

- Anon Requested!

- blurb

- italics = flashback (except the last few lines)

- the "hes" out of italics are referring to Purpled.

⚠︎: slight swearing, angst to fluff-ish, gore, no dsmp spoilers.

An// I know this is late but I'm having major writers block lol ✌🏾😛 I hope you like it love!

The night was cold as he sat on a hill away from the kingdom Dream had made himself. The tall grass flowed around him like a blanket on his bed he wish he could be in right now, but he chose this, he chose to be here. His blonde hair whipped around his face harshly, but he didnt bother move it out of his eyes he could still see the destination ahead of him.

The kingdom looking like a bright star the fell to the ground. He used to love sitting and watching the lights of the kingdom at night flicker like a fallen star that still had its glow. The small smile he had on his face fell when his mind reminded him of the tragedy a month ago.

The night was cold and dark and that couldn't resemble how he was feeling right now. Anger, resentment, betrayed flowed through his heart. He wanted revenge.

The swords were already shined and ready for blood, arrows sharpened to the point, and potions made to kill the second it envelopes you. Months of preparation was right there next to him, ready to be finally used.

He wanted revenge for his best friend.

He left the kingdom for an hour grabbing every weapon he had before finding a place he used to go with his best friend.

----------------

"The kingdom looks beautiful!" You said while standing up in the tall grass.

Purpled had taken you to a far away spot out of the dsmp kingdom just for fun.

"I know, I come here often when I want to clear my head." Purpled said while sitting down in the hill letting the grass tickle his skin.

It was the middle of the say and almost sun down. You two had hiked up away from the kingdom and up a semi huge hill that gave a great view of the lights.

"How did you find this place?" You smiled to the boy sitting down to the side of you.

"Just was hiking I guess!" He laughed. "Well I was looking for more caves outside of the kingdom and stood on this hill, and looked back and saw the beautiful view."

"Now this is your spot now?" You smiled and nodded.

"I mean it's our spot now. You're the only other person who knows about it." Purpled motioned for his friend to sit down and you did.

"Great." You smiled at him and he shared that smile.

"Great."

------------------

He finally stood up from his spot on the hill and made his way back to the kingdom, weapons at his mercy and ready to be used.

The walk back to the kingdom was long, but he wasnt in a rush. He just wanted to keep his mind calm before he finally faced the man who he wanted to kill. The man whos blood should be on his arrows and swords he just sharpened for this occasion.

He walks with purpose and in stride. He always does, he was always busy around the kingdom. Making something new or not even saying what he was doing, no one would want to cross his path because no one would want to know what trouble he was gettng himself into. But they always knew he would come put alive in the end.

He walked along the prime path keeping his gaze forward. He sped up his walk trying to get to the place he needs to go faster to get this feeling out of his body. Sadly him staring straight ahead made him bump shoulders with someone passing by. He didn't have the time to look back and stop, but a familiar voice made him stop.

"Hey! Watch where the fuck you are going!"

Damn it.

He tried to walk away, but he heard the footsteps get closer and the protests get louder.

"Hey asshole! You know Im talking to you Purpled?! Stop!"

"What do you want Quackity?!"

"Damn it took that long for you to turn around?!" The scarred man laughed as the blonde started at him blankly.

Quackity had a small smirk on his face before he looked around to make sure no one else is spying on them. Quackity chuckled while crossing his arms looking at the impatient blonde infront of him.

"What. Do. You. Want. Shouldn't you be in Las Nevadas?" He scoffed.

"I should! I should. But I heard about your little predicament." Quackity still had that taunting smile on his face.

"I wouldn't call it a predicament I would call it a missi-"

"A mission. Yeah I know, that's what you call every thing now-a-days." Quackity shook his head in disbelief. "Even when your best friend dies..Its a damn misson."

Purpled stayed quiet and let the older man talk. He didn't need to hear this, but at least this will hunor him before his miss- plans.

"Its a shame! It really is. But you know what Purpled?" Quackity's voice got quieter.

"If this is about Las Nevadas, you should leave. I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"I bet you do." Quackity looked away from the blonde. "Its a shame that you dont even know where Dream is to kill him."

--------------

"Y/N! Get out of my way!"

"I will not let you hurt him!"

"Get out of his way!"

Purpled was injured, pretty badly at that. He was clutching his side in pain where a arrow had struck him. His face had long cuts across it, and so did his body. The only way you could see the cuts along his body is because the cuts Dream had made tore through his clothes.

Purpled looked like he couldn't stand back up. You didn't want to know why they were fighting so brutally, you only showed up when Dream stood above Purpled about to take the final blow, sword clutched tightly in-between his hands.

The only thing you saw was that and you ran in the middle of the two blocking Dream from doing anymore damage to Purpled. Now the two men are yelling at you to get out of Dream's way.

"You're really stubborn aren't you?" Dream dropped his sword to his side, but still kept that tight grip on the handle.

"For my friends, yeah I am." You said with your head held high looking at the masked man.

"Y/N." Purpled groaned behind you. "Go, please."

You turned your whole body around to face him. He couldn't get up, still kneeling on the ground he tried to move and stand to his full height. It was impossible for him to do so. You saw a keep gash where his knee is. Dream must've stabbed his knee, through his knee.

"You stay down! I can handle this!"

"Where is your armor?! Huh?! Where is all your gear?! You're vulnerable!"

"You are too!"

"As much as this pains me to see the two bestest friends fight, Move." Dream said sternly while placing a rough hand on your shoulder.

"Dream get your hand off of them!" Purpled yelled.

"At this point you cannot tell me what to do." Dream chuckled. "This state that you're in! Its pathetic!"

Purpled hung his head low while Dream kept on running his mouth.

"Y/N! Do you even want to know why we're even fighting?! Its all his-"

"I dont want to know. Frankly I dont care just stop hurting him." Your words came out calmer than you wanted because you really were vulnerable at this point.

"I haven't even finished the job, my misson." Dream scoffed.

"If you wanto to finish "your mission" go through me first." You said while finding Purpled's sword on the ground next to him and gripping it tightly just like Dream.

"Y/N stop this!"

"Fine then."

Dream had grabbed your shoulder again so hard it could leave a bruise and brought your shoulders forward. You didn't have any time to react and the next thing you saw when you looked down was his sword going through your stomach. It hurt to breathe, and you felt yourself coughing up blood onto the grass beneath you. He had finally let go of your shoulder and you fell to your side letting your body go numb.

"NO DREAM!" Purpled tried to reach you, but ended up getting kicked down by Dream.

"Im done with you now. Its no point. I thought killing you would be better, but watching you suffer after your best friend gets killed is good enough for me."

"My mission is done, and they were right. You are vulnerable."

-------------

"Where is he then?" He asked trying not to sound rushed.

"You would like to know huh? Well Let me tell you about this thing I have first. I mean if you want to know where Dream is for your little mission" Quackity proposed and he stayed quiet waiting for the older man's response.

"I have this book, it was given to me by an old ally of mine. It has all of the lives of everyone in it. The whole book is filled with names and if they are dead or not-"

"Where are you going with this?" He interrupted.

"Im saying that not everyone knows of Y/N's death. Its not any big headlines. So I read this book often and I so happened to see their name and underneath it, it said they were dead."

"And?"

"I have a proposal-"

"No." He started to walk away leaving Quackity to stand and yell at the younger one.

"Oh come on! Dont you want your friend back?!" Quackity yelled as the other walked away briskly.

"Fine! You'll owe me!"

----------

It was over. He ended up back on the same hill again, but this time it was pitch black and the only light available was the light in the stars and the light from the kingdom. He could hear faint noises of mobs in the distance, but they didn't dare come near him.

His eyes started to water and his vision began to get blurry. He didn't kill Dream, he couldn't. That's not what you would've wanted.

Dream was right all along. He was vulnerable, he was always vulnerable.

He closed his eyes letting tears drop onto his cheeks. He was upset that he couldn't fulfill his mission, the one thing he knew he could do for the one he misses the most in life. He failed. And now Dream is sitting somewhere, he didn't even take Quackity's proposal. He didn't even know what Dream was to kil him.

Still, even if he wasnt discouraged, he would've still tried to hunt Dream down. He didn't care if it took him months to a year, he didn't care if it killed him. One day.

He looked out to the kingdom once more with eyes full of tears. The kingdom now looking like a ball of light and not as detailed.

"Purpled?"

He sighed brushing the call off, he was hearing things.

"Hey, Purpled."

He shook his head with his hands cupping his face. He was convincing himself that his head was playing tricks on him because there is no one that could be out here at this time.

"I thought I would get a warmer welcome than this."

He felt the grass moving beside him and he quickly turned his head to his right where he saw the person he wanted to the most. You.

It was you, but you had a white streak in your hair, your stomach still had a bigger scar still on it. It was you, it was finally you. He hesitated before reaching out to hug you, there was some tall grass in between you two but it didn't matter, he had you back. You had to feel tears fall on your back because he was crying, he tried to keep his sobs quiet but they slipped out.

"Are you okay?" He asked while sniffing.

"Im alive now. Thats progress." You responded hesitantly before continuing. "I wanted to stay dead. I mean it had to be my time right? I was in hell and I don't know why. Why was I there?!"

You started sobbing on his shirt as well and you took a big breath before starting to talk again.

"And then I just showed up not that far from here. It was horrible, like an out of body experience. I dont know who brought me back either! But now I found you here and Im okay enough." You smiled with tiredness in your eyes as you pulled away from the long hug.

"I tried to kill Dream." He confessed.

"Because of me?"

He hummed in agreement "I couldn't, thats not what you would've wanted."

"Why would you know what I wanted?" You asked the blonde. "I was dead for a month."

"You wanted me to kill him?" He asked with a bit of excitement in his voice.

"Consider this a new mission." You smiled while standing up and him following suit.

"My mission." He whispered while looking at the ground. "It'll take a while, but we'll get him. I promise."

You two locked pinkie fingers together to seal the promise. A promise that would be sealed to the end of time. No matter how long or who dies, he never fails a mission.

"Oh! Also, I have a note for you." You handed him a small torn note that you found lying next to you when you reappeared.

--------------

Dear Purpled,

You're welcome. They're here now.

Remember that favor I never got to ask you?

I suppose you should listen to me now.

Q

[niskoo]

Memories kept in the pink hoodie

pairing: Ex! Heeseung x reader

genre: angst, fluff in the end ig, breakup! AU

warnings: swearing, uhhh they like break down together

word count: 2.2k words OMG

a/n: another one of my requests!! thank you all for the ideas its really helping!! mmm this one was very interesting to write because i usually write crack/fluff, aaannndd ive literally never done anything ive written IURHWIU thank you for the great idea anon <33 THIS HELPED SO MUCH OMG USUALLY MY ANGST SUCKS BUT IM PRETTY PROUD OF THIS AAAA ALSO IM SORRY IF THIS WASNT REALLY WHAT YOU WANTED IDK THERE ALWAYS HAS TO BE FLUFF IN MY IMAGINES IG 😓😭

feel free to request and help get rid of my writers block!!

a bit based off of 'try again' by jaehyun and d.ear

You should've known the consequences of dating an idol, you should've been careful. Of course they wouldn't let you be together, he's in one of the rising groups, heck, he was in one of the biggest companies.

It wasn't necessarily the company's fault you were so heartbroken, it's both your faults. You couldn't help but blame each other for how careless you were. You know better than to make things worse, and yet you did.

The evening you go back to his dorm after being confronted by the company, you two started a huge argument of who's fault it was. Either it was his fault for not taking caution during work, or your fault for always checking up on him. All loving actions in the past became reasons for why you should break up, thus cracking your relationship further.

When you went home that night, with your backpack full of your things, you did nothing. You didn't cry, you didn't rage, you simply thought that this was the end, you felt guilty that it had to end like this, instead of just working it out and breaking it off peacefully.

Your heart was left cracked and hurt for sure, but this time, you blame yourself. You shouldn't have met him, you shouldn't have got to know him, it's all your fault. And for the first time that night, you cry.

Your heart clenched at every thought of having to leave Heeseung, more tears falling at the fact that he's not gonna be a part of your life anymore. He's gone, and it's all your fault.

It's when you unpack your things when you realize you still have a bunch of things left at his place, you realize you never want to go back and face him.

You leave your stuff there for the next 2 days, your heart still unready to confront and be reminded of the fact that Heeseung is gone. Unfortunately, he has other plans.

Your phone lights up, and the last name you want to see is lighting the phone up.

'Hey... you left some of your stuff.'

You instantly turn your phone off, breaths picking up as you quickly look away from it and finish your lunch. You can feel the anxiety filling your body as you notice it light up once again, and it swarms in your chest even more when your mother winces at the next text.

You put down your spoon, quickly glancing at the text.

'If you want, you can come by and pick them up? I'll pack them for you...'

Your heart clenches yet once again, you know it's true, literally half your stuff is still there and you have to pick them up. You unlock your phone, quickly sending an 'okay' before completely shutting your phone down. You wouldn't stand a second more looking at his contact.

You decide to go at 11, because that's when the other members are at the company training. You don't know if Heeseung's gonna be there to give you your things, a part of you hopes he is, another hopes he's not there. But then again, who else would open the door for you?

You stand outside the familiar door nervously, picking on your nails and the lint on the hem of your cardigan. Just as you were about to knock, the door swung open, and instead of your ex boyfriend standing there it's the youngest of the group, his eyes wide and puffy lips parted.

As usual, he woke up late. You can't help but chuckle as he picks his shoes up and scurries down the stairs, bidding him a friendly goodbye.

You almost forget about Heeseung, but as you hear shuffling from inside, it all comes back.

You two share awkward glances, the tension slowly building itself back up. Instead of the heated, rage filled tension, this time the tension is guilty, and without each other knowing, yearning.

“T-this way,” Heeseung mutters tightly, eyes glued to the ground as he shuffled quickly to the living room. You follow along just a few seconds later, still processing the fact that this is the end. He could be gone out of your life after this, it’s your last chance to speak.

Your eyes slowly travel up when you stop, the beating of your heart quickening with the slight burning in your eyes. Lo and behold, there your things laid, ready for you to bring back home. You can’t help but notice how it’s packed completely how Heeseung would pack, neat and with care. It’s not too stuffed, it’s in the perfect place.

Biting at the dead skin of your lip, you trudge towards the duffle bag—his duffle bag—and kneel down to grab the handle. The moment you pick it up, you notice how the bag isn’t fully zipped, and a certain pink sleeve peaks out from the tiny space.

All too familiar, the pink sleeve was. It was the one he took from Daniel in I-land. He knew you loved it, for you loved the kid like your little brother. But, he can’t. It’s his, it’s his favorite, he can’t just give it to his ex.

You instantly place the bag down, the tears starting to well up in frustration and sadness. You zip open the bag and take the pink hoodie out, before shoving it into Heeseung’s chest, “Take it, Heeseung, Please don’t give it to me.”

It takes him a few moments, before Heeseung is shaking his head and handing it back to you. “No, it’s practically yours anyway. And you really like it right? It’s just a-“

“Don’t tell me it’s just a hoodie!”

You both are shocked at your sudden burst, frozen in your spot. Your breathing is heavy, like a weight is holding it down and slowing your breathing. There are tears keeping your cheek moist, warm, they stream down continuously, the sensation as if there was fire dripping from your eyes and burning your skin.

Heeseung’s just on the verge of crying himself, the grip on the pink hoodie deathly, he feels the material ripping against his skin. How did it come to this? When did it even happen? It all feels surreal, to think what you two had could fall apart.

All the happy moments in your relationship fading to memories, the hoodie representing the fact itself is true. None of you wanted to take it, afraid it would remind you of the other.

Deep down, you wanted to keep it, keep the memories it held, keep the tears that once soaked it when you vented all your stress to him, keep the scent of Heeseung that lingered on the fabric. You were just too afraid of being reminded that along with the happy memories, came the sad memories of the night you fought and broke it off.

Your grip on the poor hoodie eases, as you slide to the floor helplessly with tears messing your face up. You desperately wanted to hold the pink piece of clothing and keep it forever, and another part of you cursed at you for being too vulnerable.

Your hand quickly wipes away the tears on your cheeks and chin harshly, almost hitting yourself for being so sensitive. Before you could do the action again, a softer grasp is stopping your hand, Heeseung’s other hand reaching up to brush the tears away dearly, blowing your hair away from your face.

Before you could even bring yourself to stop, you’re already reacting to his touch, cowering into his hold and placing your hand over his on your cheek, almost intertwining them together.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper into his palm, your other hand reaching up to grasp at his t-shirt. You’re sorry for so many reasons, for not being careful, for all the things you said in the argument, for making a sudden commotion just because of a stupid hoodie. “I’m so sorry...”

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s alright.” Heeseung grabs you into his infamous embrace you would hate to leave, stroking your back with patterns just the way he knew you loved, just the way it would calm you down. “We’ll be alright.”

More tears fall between your eyelashes, dripping and soaking into Heeseung’s shoulder as he himself sniffles quietly into your hair. None of you want to leave each other behind, it’s the painful truth that you both can’t have, the truth you’ve always feared.

A sudden feeling of relief fills you up inside, his words reassure you in a way, we’ll be alright, you’ll be okay, it just had to leave his lips for you to believe it. You crawl closer to Heeseung, squeezing yourself in his bear hug, “We’ll be okay, we can make it right,”

A hoarse and hearty laugh leaves Heeseung, it shakes right by your ear as you press it against his chest, and he nods, “Yeah,”

He gently pulls your head back right in front of his, wiping the last of your tears and tucking the stray hairs back to the back of your ear, “Let’s just talk,” his whisper tickles your nose, causing you to lightly giggle at the feeling, his lips pressing softly against the pink tinted skin, “Make everything better?”

You nod, finally grasping at the pink hoodie and holding it tight to your chest as Heeseung laughs and bonks his forehead right on yours.

For the next few hours, you talk, make up, talk some more, maybe even a small cuddle, but that’s a secret. You make ramen for when the other members come back from practice, you feel happy to see the members thank you and eat with enthusiasm, you feel glad this is how your last moments together last.

Now you have the (practically ripped) pink hoodie in your arms as you bid the boys goodbye, slightly tearing up at the sight of them sadly waving, but you keep it in and continue your way back home, where you would tell your mom how you ended it on good terms.

And that night, you slip on the pink hoodie before you sleep, and you feel a piece of paper poking at your arm. You’re surprised to see a crumpled envelope poking out, your name written messily in blue ink.

You pull the envelope out quickly, opening it out with something bubbling in the pit of your stomach as you notice the handwriting as Heeseung’s.

‘My dear Y/n,

Hello there! I don’t know if i got the guts to make it right with you or if i pussied out and watched you as you drove away with regrets, but that’s what this letter is for. hopefully you didn’t throw this letter away hehe

i just wanted to thank you. for everything. your love, your care, your trust, Your happiness, thank you for everything you’ve given me. im sorry we had to end our journey, but know that you’ll be in my mind everyday. when we practice, I’ll remember your encouraging smile, when we win, I'll remember the fact that it’s you who gave me the courage to start this whole career.

i love you y/n. we’ll both probably find our other person in the future, but you’ll forever be in my heart as my first love, my first heartbreak, my best memory. thank you for helping me through my hardest times, thank you for helping the other boys through their worst times, especially jungwon, he’ll miss you the most.

i guess this is goodbye, y/n. not forever, of course, but for some time. thank you for everything, i hope you enjoyed the times we had together as much as i did.

with all the love in my heart,

Lee Heeseung :)’

You wipe at your tears for the nth time that day, folding the paper back into the envelope. “Fuck you Heeseung, you’ve ruined my makeup again!” You curse under your breath as you slip the letter into a certain box at the corner of your bedside table, patting your cheeks one last time.

You truly cherish the memories you had with Heeseung. You hope he does too.

[youngbeezer]

hi!! can I please request something?

going to a lake house, maybe friends to lovers with bowen byram?

thank you! 💗.

A/N: HI IM SO SORRY THIS LITERALLY TOOK 4 EVER!!! i was having such bad writer's block with also zero motivation, but i eventually put a little something together and i hope whoever requested this first off actually sees this bc seriously its been a good month of this sitting in my inbox but also i hope you like it :)

Word Count: 2940

Warning(s): kinda angsty in beginning, curse words, ends fluffy !!!

masterlist || join my taglist

These next few days is either going to turn out to be the best week of the summer, or the most awkward week of the summer...

I’m currently stuck in a car surrounded by couples on our way to a lake house in Colorado. Somehow I ended up being lumped into this chaotic group of professional hockey players and their drop-dead gorgeous significant others.

About a year ago at my local salon, I just so happened to be seated right next to a woman named Grace, who I immediately hit it off with. We became fast friends and are now basically inseparable at this point. Her boyfriend just so happens to play hockey for the Colorado Avalanche, Cale Makar. Now I have also grown quite close with Cale as well, since I am always at their shared apartment for Grace. At this point Cale is basically third wheeling us, instead of it being the other way around. Therefore I was also always invited to team parties and get-togethers, which prompted more friendships with most of the guys on the team and their respective partners.

Someone I have surprisingly grown super close with is Bowen Byram. As soon as Cale introduced us two, his blue eyes and raspy voice immediately drew me in. Straight away we bonded over common interests and that night we talked for almost three hours. After that, we were thick as thieves. So thick that recently I have come to the realization that I have caught major feelings for him along the way.

It has only been a few weeks since I have come to this realization and it has already started to affect our relationship. I definitely started to ignore Bowen a little bit when I first figured out my feelings because I was scared he would somehow find out or I would just end up blurting it out at some point. And the last thing I want is for my silly feelings to ruin such a great friendship.

Thus why this week can either turn out to be the best or the worst.

I’ve decided that at some point during this trip I need to confess my feelings for Bowen. He’s also seemed to notice the shift in my attitude towards him. I have become more closed off and not as touchy as we used to be. Bowen and I are both very touchy/feely types of people. So what seemed like just some harmless cuddling and play wrestling with each other, to me did very little to quell down my feelings.

For example, this morning when we were packing up the cars for the trip a group of us are taking to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse, Bowen went to wrap his arms around my middle from the back and I subconsciously flinched away at his touch. I know he definitely noticed my mood shift from the defiant pout that was resting on his face. After that I did what I do best, and ran away to the other car that was driving up and basically begged Nate to switch seats with me.

Which now leads to my current thoughts. The entire car ride up I have been contemplating on ways I could tell him, but each scenario just ended up with him telling me that he doesn’t feel the same, and our friendship essentially being over. Obviously I was just overthinking just a little, but I’ve never been stuck in a situation like this before-- and now we are going to be stuck in a lake house together for an entire week, so I am going to be forced to face this situation whether I want to or not.

“Yo. Earth to y/n?” Tyson draws, trying to gain my attention. I snap out of my thoughts as soon as I hear my name, and bring my gaze to the rearview mirror to meet Tyson’s questioning look. “We’re here.” He announces.

Susanna, Mikko’s girlfriend, adds on, “You alright? You seemed kind of out of it the entire car ride.”

I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts and notice that we are indeed here at the lake house we will be staying at for the next week. I clear my dried up throat before croaking out a weak, “Yeah, I’m fine. Just don’t like long car rides.”

Both of them nod, content with my answer and exit the car to join Mikko in unloading all of the luggage from the trunk. I take a few more moments to fully get my head together after dealing with all my jumbled thoughts throughout the entire three hour car ride.

Jumping out of the car, the first thing I see is Bowen letting out a yawn and stretching out. As his arms raise over his head, some of his shirt rises up with it and immediately my eyes are drawn to the small portion of skin and v-line that is in front of me. Bowen then notices my presence and makes eye contact with me, giving me one of his adorable little smiles. I advert my gaze as quickly as I can so my obvious ogling isn’t as obvious and go to finally retrieve my luggage.

Yeah this was gonna be a long week.

…

After everyone got pretty much all settled into their rooms, we all ended up coming back together to sit around the firepit to chat and enjoy some drinks. For this trip that Tyson orchestrated there are in total ten people staying in the house. Me, Tyson, obviously since it’s his house; Bowen, Cale, Grace, Alex Newhook, Mikko and his girlfriend Susanna, and lastly Nate and his supposed new girl who will be joining us later on in the week.

Apparently a group of the guys and their partners have been taking trips together at the end of the hockey season for a while now, and since growing closer with the team this year, I graciously got an invite.

Since it was getting later and a little bit more chilly, I grabbed a random sweatshirt that I saw already laying around in the living room before making my way outside to join everyone by the firepit. Getting closer I noticed that the only seat available just so happened to be next to Bowen.

Cale and Grace give each other a not so inconspicuous knowing look when they see me approaching. As soon as I sit down, a question is being thrown at me.

“Whose sweatshirt is that y/n?” Cale brings everyone's attention to me with a growing smirk on his face.

“I don’t know, I just found it in the living room.” I give Cale a questioning glare, trying to figure what his endgame is right now.

“It’s mine.” I hear that same raspy voice that I love and know so well. I feel my face start heating up at the idea of wearing Bowen’s sweatshirt. Am I wearing his name on my back right now, and I just didn’t even think to check earlier?

“Oh, uh. Sorry, I can give it back to you, if you want it.” I stumble out, now feeling awkward and a little embarrassed about how flustered I am getting over a simple sweatshirt.

Bowen gives me a little smile before replying back, “Nah, it’s fine. It looks better on you anyway.”

I clear my throat and stumble out an awkward ‘thanks’ at Bowen and then turn my attention to Grace right next to me so I don’t embarrass myself even more. What I don’t see though is the way Bowen's face immediately falls when I turn my back on him.

…

Around midnight is when everyone started to make their way back inside the house to start getting ready for bed. I was mindlessly scrolling through my social media, so I didn’t notice that mostly everyone had already gone inside.

“Y/n.” I look up at the mention of my name to notice that Bowen and I are the only ones left outside.

Also noticing the intense gaze I am receiving from Bowen, I quickly gather my things and stumble out, “Oh my gosh I didn’t notice everyone left already. I should head inside as well.”

Bowen is quicker though because he grabs ahold of my wrist, halting me in place before I make my very obvious escape.

“Hold on, please. Can you please talk to me?” Bowen pleads out.

“What do you mean? We’ve been talking all night.” I countered, trying one last time to get out of this conversation.

“We’ve been talking as a group all night yeah, but you couldn’t even make eye contact with me. You know what I mean. What’s been going on? Did I do something?” Bowen frowned.

At that moment I felt so guilty. I’ve been so focused on trying to ignore my feelings that I have developed that I ended up pushing my best friend away and hurting him in the process. I close my eyes and let out a deep breath. I knew I would eventually have to have this talk with Bowen during this week, but I just didn’t expect it to be on the very first night.

“Okay. Yeah, let’s talk.”

I lead the way down to the dock overlooking the lake and sit down to dangle my feet into the water. I know for a fact that Grace and Cale realized that we both haven’t come in behind them, so they are most likely snooping by the backdoor wondering what we are doing.

Bowen joins me, after slipping his shoes off and dangling his feet in as well.

“What’s been going on y/n?” Bowen asks again.

“I-I think I’m in love with you.” I blurt out. I can feel my heartbeat pounding in my ears as I await any type of response from Bowen. Taking a peek over at him, I see the pure shock on his face. Probably wasn’t the best idea to start off the conversation with that.

Taking his silence as a bad sign, I start spewing out whatever I can to try and calm the anxiety coursing through my veins. “I-I think I have known for a while and I just tried to ignore it, I guess. But then I realized that I was just pushing you away, an-and I never wanted to do that. Our friendship means that absolute world to me, and I would hate myself if anything I did, or-or my stupid feelings jeaporized that.” At some point during my little rant, a few tears escaped. I turn my head away as I try to hold back on a full on sob breaking loose.

“You think?” He eventually breaks the silence.

Confusedly, I turned my head back around and let out a strangled, “Huh?” I see the corners of Bowen’s mouth start curving up into a tiny smile, confusing me even more.

“You said, you think you’re in love with me.” He pointed out.

My eyebrows raise in question and I give him a little shrug, prompting him to elaborate more.

“Well… I’m pretty damn sure I’m in love with you.” Bowen softly declared.

My breath catches in my throat and my mouth turns as dry as the Sahara Desert. Those were definitely not the words I was expecting to come out of his mouth. He chuckles at my surprised face and scooches a little closer to my body to wipe a stray tear on my cheek.

“Are you serious?” I whisper out.

“Of course.” He whispered just as softly back to me as his head inched closer to mine.

My heart pounds in my chest as Bowen’s hand comes up to cradle my cheek. All of our pent up feelings and emotions that we both have been too afraid to admit all come crashing together as our lips finally meet. He kissed me gently, almost carefully, but after all this time gentleness was not what I wanted right now. Bowen let out a low groan as I pulled him flush against my body, my fists bunching up the collar of his shirt.

Before this could go any further, we both pull away breathlessly, basking in what truly just happened-- just now realizing how much our relationship is about to change.

“Fuck.” Bowen breathed out, running his hands over his face. “If I knew that was what it was like to kiss you I would’ve blurted out my feelings the day I met you.”

My ears perk up at his last few words and it seems like he also realizes what he just admitted, as his cheeks immediately turn a rosy color.

“You’ve liked me for that long?” I bashfully question.

Bowen runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath of air before answering, “Yeah, I-I mean… yeah I have.” He stumbles out, awkwardly letting out a laugh.

I lean my head on his shoulder and connect our hands, feeling super content and never wanting this moment to end. We take a moment to just sit on the dock-- with our feet hanging in the water, hands intertwined; and bask in the feeling of finally letting our feelings out into the open.

“You know everyone in that house is going to have a field day when they find out.” Bowen mumbles against my shoulder, before leaving a lingering kiss on the exposed skin.

“Oh I wouldn’t be surprised if they all had a bet going or something.” I chimed. I raise my head that had previously been resting on Bowen’s shoulder back up to look at him, and see that he is already smiling at me. “What?” I drawled, feeling my cheeks heating up under his gaze.

“You wanna sleep in my bed tonight?” He asked hesitantly.

My cheeks now feel on fire as I ponder on how I want to go about this. I raise my eyebrows up at him in question as I ponder out, “Do you want me in your bed tonight?”

Bowen gives me an almost incredulous look as he voiced, “Of course I want you in my bed.”

I just give him a simple nod and push my body up in a standing position, reaching out my hand to prompt Bowen to join me. “Okay, let’s go.”

Bowen immediately shoots up from his sitting position, clinging onto my hand as we make our way back up the yard to the sliding glass doors of the lake house. Just as I predicted earlier, Cale and Grace were totally snooping. Actually, the entire house was snooping. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen trying to act casual as we walked in, but as soon as they noticed our conjoined hands, all hell broke loose.

“I fucking knew it!”

“Aw you guys look so cute.”

“Bout time.”

“Ha! Nate, you owe me fifty bucks.”

I looked over at Bowen with an unimpressed look, “Told you they probably had a bet going on.” Meanwhile Bowen has an incredulous look coating his face watching his friends freak out over his newfound relationship. Instead of questioning our oddball friends, Bowen just simply shakes his head, letting out a little chuckle.

“Alright I’m heading up, I can’t deal with these idiots right now.” Bowen gives me a quick peck on the lips before announcing his departure for the night. Most of the others also start making their way up to their respective rooms for bed, the guys putting on a show of making kissy noises and making a few chirps as they follow Bowen up the stairs.

Grace joins me by the counter, making a show of wiggling her eyebrows at me. I’m smiling like an idiot as Cale also joins us, chuckling at my lovesick expression.

“You’re welcome.” Cale smirked.

I scrunch my face up in confusion as I question him back, “For what?”

“For introducing you two, duh.” Cale teased. Grace smacks him on the arm with a tut, making a show of rolling her eyes at her boyfriend. “Alright, seriously I am happy for you guys though.” He eventually relents.

My cheeks heat up from the attention but also from the thought of Bowen and I’s new relationship. Grace grabs me by the shoulders and starts pushing me in the direction of the staircase.

“Obviously I’m happy for you too. All I’ve wanted is the best for you and I think Bowen is just that. And with that being said, go get your mans!” She sends me off with a quick smack on my ass. I giggle the whole way up the stairs on the way into Bowen’s [now our] room feeling extremely giddy and content.

When I enter the room, all the lights except for the bathroom are already off, and it looks like Bowen is already settled into bed. So, I quickly do my night time routine and change into my pajamas before making my way over to the bed I will now be sharing for the week.

Bowen is awaiting me with his arms wide open, which I happily cuddle into the second I am under the covers. He buries his head into my neck, leaving featherlight kisses here and there.

“I love you.” Bowen mumbles into my neck. I card my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head as I mumble back those same words, in complete awe over how fast my life has changed in one night. We both knew that we would eventually be together, it just took a little time and a trip to Tyson Jost’s lakehouse for us to figure it out. This week will definitely be one for the books.

Taglist: @barzysandmarnersbitch @handwrittenheroes @hockeyplayerstories @barzy-xoxo @gnemgn @joelsfarabees

Tagging some mutuals as well so this doesnt flop,,,

@2manytabsopen @bb-nhlqueen7 @frederikanderson @simon-edvinsson @coltonndach @carepriceisgoodathockey @lovereadinghockeyy @pettypeteys @kentjohnsons @joekellys @mattybenierss