#pls clap I spent so long on this

[adxmanial]

There's a room where the light won't find you Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

[sunlightmurdock]

When All Is Said and Done | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader (18+)

In which Maverick’s best man and his daughter come together to plan a wedding, then celebrate the success of their endeavours.

Warnings: smut, porn w very little plot, unprotected pinv (use protection pls), oral (f receiving), choking, drinking

“I do.”

“I do.”

“And do you, Penny Benjamin —“

“I do.” Your mother beams, smiling at the love of her life from across the alter. She has been waiting for this day for a long time. Pete was her first real love. They had met when she was wild and he was even wilder. They’ve been on and off for decades, but this time, they’re making it official.

You were a result of one of their on times, followed by some pretty bumpy offs through your childhood. They did their best to keep you out of the ugliest parts of it, you know that they’ve loved each other for as long as you’ve been alive.

But, not always like this. There was Stu, your Mom’s second husband, Amelia’s dad. He was there through most of your adolescence. Not to mention the countless women that Mav has introduced you to.

Your parents reconciled about a year ago. It’s been a whirlwind, you’ve never seen them this in love. So, when they announced two months ago that they were engaged and wanted to be married as soon as possible — you had known that the pressure was on.

This was your seven year old dreams coming true, it had to be perfect. Unsurprisingly, you were chosen to be maid of honour. More surprisingly, Maverick chose Bradley Bradshaw to be his best man.

As kids, you saw Bradley frequently. Whenever you would stay with your dad, he would drop you over at Aunt Carole’s house often. Bradley was a couple of years older, he wasn’t ever really that interested in playing with you but Carole adored having you around.

As teenagers, you barely saw him at all. He was always at sports, or in his room with friends, or out of the house. Then he and Maverick had had that huge argument. You hadn’t seen him since he was maybe seventeen.

Then he had come strolling back in to your life.

Taller than he was back then. Stronger. Broader. Tanned, wearing a Hawaiian shirt, a neatly groomed moustache on his face, calling himself Rooster now. At first, you had thought he had shown up in costume.

You were quickly corrected by him. That had been an embarrassing mistake to make.

Your parents lasted through a week of wedding planning before they were butting heads and arguing about different shades of green for the chair covers. Sitting at the kitchen counter, looking between the two of them disapprovingly, you had known that you would have to intervene.

“Just relax, Rooster and I will take care of everything.” You had breathed, stepping between the two of them.

“We will?” Bradley frowned.

“Yes, we will.” You had insisted.

The two months that had followed had been hard. Planning the wedding that your parents had wanted in two months had proven to be damn near impossible. You had to take time off work, stay up late. The majority of your early summer had been spent arguing with venues and coordinators to make sure that the wedding went off without a hitch.

Bradley had been busy with work. Unable to take time off like you could. Too busy to help with decorations and suit rentals, even though that was what you had allocated. Somehow not too busy to plan your father’s bachelor party.

Things had changed at the end of May. You had cornered him and told him that things had needed to change. He insists that you had threatened his life — you aren’t so convinced that you did, but either way, it had worked.

Now, in the middle of June, your parents lean together and kiss softly. The church, filled with your closest family and friends, cheers for them. You clap, grinning at your parents.

“I want to start off by thanking everyone who helped out, and worked hard to make today special for my beautiful wife and I,” Mav begins, smiling softly. He turns his head and looks at you and Bradley individually, “Especially our incredible daughter, and my best man over here, Bradley.”

You lean back in your seat and extend your champagne glass behind Penny and Maverick’s chairs, towards Bradley. He smiles softly and takes his, leaning around them to clink his glass against yours.

“We did it.” You mouth across to him.

“Told you we would.” He whispers back. You grin, bringing your glass back and taking a sip from it.

You sit there politely, listening to your father’s speech, feeling Bradley’s eyes on you every couple of minutes.

After Maverick has thanked everyone for their part in the wedding, the band takes over for a while to give your parents some time to talk to each other and to their guests. You get up to stretch your legs, Bradley heads over to his friends to greet them for the first time since the reception.

You walk out onto the patio, the buzz from the champagne and the breeze from the dropping temperature hits you all at once, but it’s a pleasant feeling. The stress from the past few months fades as you walk down the steps and into the garden. The decorations from today’s ceremony are still up. You look around at them, proud of yourself for the work you did.

You walk up to the front, taking a seat on the bench closest to the arch. You sit down and take a drink from your champagne glass.

The peace and quiet is nice, you sit with your sense of accomplishment and mild buzz, listening to the wind in the trees.

“Hiding already, Mitchell? — Mav’s not even rapping yet.” Bradley teases, calling back to the Eminem incident at your father’s fifty-eighth birthday party, as he follows along the same path towards you. You cringe at the memory, unable to stop yourself from letting out a soft groan.

“Oh, don’t,” You complain, letting out a dry laugh. You shake your head as he steps around and sits down next to you. “He was so wasted that night.”

“So were you, if I remember right.” Bradley comments, taking a sip of his beer, stretching his legs out in front of him. He’s handsome in his tux, especially under the twinkling lights strung above the garden. He turns his head to you, his expression a mixture of amusement and challenge.

“I was not!” You insist, shaking your head again as you sip at your champagne.

“So you dance like that when you’re sober, good to know.” Bradley comments, lips quirked up into a soft smirk. You scoff and drive your elbow into his ribs playfully. He laughs and shifts closer to you. He extends his arm along the back of the bench.

It’s not technically draped around your shoulder, but it’s also not not around your shoulder.

You turn your head to look at him. He bumps his beer bottle against your champagne flute gently, “You did good. Today was incredible.”

“We did.” You correct him, fully aware of how close you’re sitting. You’ve never noticed that he’s got soft brown freckles dotted along the bridge of his nose before today.

He shakes his head, lifting his hand from the back of the bench. His thumb strokes along your bare bicep and makes you shiver, “This was all you and we both know it. Your parents are so lucky to have you.”

“I can’t believe those words just left your mouth,” You scoff playfully, leaning your head back to look at the twinkling lights above both of you. There’s a soft breeze tonight, you can still hear the music playing inside. Bradley’s warmth radiates onto you. This is nice. “Aren’t you the one who called me a control freak a couple of months ago?”

Rooster smiles, caught.

“I didn’t think your Dad was going to snitch on me, in my defence.” Bradley replies, stroking his fingertips along your arm. “I don’t think that anymore, anyway. You’re just bossy.”

“I am not—“

He raises an eyebrow at you, challenging you to go ahead. You bite your cheeks to keep from smiling, staring him down. Rooster smirks. His eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips.

Oh. This is happening. He leans in, closing his eyes, tilting his head, pressing his lips to yours. You lean slightly into him, lips tenderly moving against his.

Rooster leans closer, resting his hand against your knee, trailing it along your skin. It slides along your thigh, trailing the slit in the side of your bridesmaid dress.

“Hey - woah, oh no - oh, ew!”

You pull apart sharply to look at your younger sister. Amelia raises her eyebrows as she looks between the two of you.

“Were you two…?”

“No!” You answer sharply, Rooster looks between her and you. “What do you want?”

“Can I use your ID to get a drink?”

“No.” You frown at her. She groans, rolling her eyes and walking away from the two of you. Bradley takes his hand away from your thigh and shifts back slightly.

He covers his mouth with his hand, brushing it over his jaw and sighing, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—“

You curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pull him forwards again, pressing your lips to his. He nips at your bottom lip, the taste of champagne on your tongue as it slides against his.

He slides his hand up your back, curling it around the nape of your neck and pulling you closer against him. Your chest presses into his as he caresses his tongue into your mouth.

You pull apart abruptly again at the sound of footsteps behind you.

“Not here.” Rooster mumbles. You slip your hand into his, leaving your drinks on the bench as you pull him up and guide him back into the building. Trailing your fingers along the wall, you push open a random door on the right of the hallway.

It’s a small room, someone’s office maybe. A desk in the middle that’ll work just fine for what’s about to happen. You round on him as the door closes behind him. Rooster’s hands find your waist as yours drape around his shoulders.

His hands wrap around your waist and trail down to cup your ass, causing you to let out a small gasp. Rooster presses himself into you, walking you back until you bump into the desk. You tense up as he grabs your hips and drops you onto the desk.

This has been a long time coming. All those bickering arguments, late-night phone calls, all those hours you’ve spent planning today. Deep down, you had known this was coming.

Rooster lips his tongue into your mouth once again, grabbing your knees and parting them, moving to stand between your thighs. His fingertips trail up along your legs, as far as the slit in your dress will allow him. Not far enough.

This time, not skipping a beat, he hikes up your dress. Thick thumb swiping over your cleft, eliciting a soft purr from your lips. The honeyed sound has him growling softly in anticipation, pressing his mouth hard against yours, picking up his movements.

You reach forwards, tugging at his bow tie, loosening it in one movement. Your hands fumble with the buttons on his white shirt. Rooster presses himself against you, nipping at your bottom lip as you tug his shirt out from under his belt to finish unbuttoning it.

Rushing to get him out of it, he works with you, shrugging his suit jacket and his unbuttoned shirt at once. He tugs hard at your knees, almost making you slip off of the desk as you’re pulled to the edge of it.

“Holy shit.”

Leaving him in just his trousers, you take a moment to marvel at his bare chest — god, he’s so much hotter now than he was when you were kids. He pushes your dress up further around your waist, grabbing the back of your knee with one hand, cupping your throat with the other.

“So wha— god,” Rooster breathes out as you pepper a dozen kisses over the length of his neck. “What are you into?”

Your brows furrow slightly, grabbing onto his bicep for leverage as he pushes the thin strap of your dress of your shoulder, attaching his mouth to the skin.

It’s hard to think when he’s nipping at your skin like this. Your head lulls back, a soft moan slipping your lips.

“Uh — I — I’m pretty into reading, and s-stuff— um —“

“In bed, Mitchell — I meant what are you into in bed?” Bradley interrupts, pulling back and giving a soft shake of his head. You stare at him, letting a moment of silence fall between the two of you.

“Choke me.”

“Huh?”

You grab the back of his neck and pull him in again, humming softly as he relaxes into you. The kisses grow more passionate, there’s a certainty between the two of you about what’s going to happen here.

Braldey’s hand found its home back between your legs, pulling your panties to the side this time. You’re dripping for him already and he has barely touched you.

Circling his digits around your sensitive clit, you mewl quietly. Dipping into your wetness, he pushed the tip of his finger into you and lifts his head to look you in the eye. Your head just about spins, met with soft honey coloured eyes and parted lips.

Pushing deeper until his entire middle finger is in you, Bradley groans out. He works the digit into you, stretching you open more and more. Dripping onto his palm, you gasp for breath. Rooster eagerly presses another finger into you, making you whimper out softly.

He picks up the pace, kissing your lips as his fingers massage that spot inside of you that makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open. His other hand brushes the other strap of your dress off of your shoulder.

His attention quickly focuses on your exposed breasts, nipples peaked from the cold air. He groans softly.

You lean back on your palms, lips parted as his mouth works its way along your bare chest. Open-mouthed kisses, leaving a warm trail along your collarbones and down your chest.

You gasp as he curls his fingers especially deep into you.

“Fuck, Rooster — like that.”

He palms at your breast softly with his free hand, rolling your nipple between his index finger and thumb. It hardens further under his touch as his mouth attaches to the other, flicking his tongue softly over the sensitive bud.

“Oh my god…” You lean your head back, sliding your fingers into his neatly styled hair as the knot in your stomach grows tighter.

Rooster lowers himself to his knees, parting your knees further. You gasp as his teeth graze the inside of your thigh, fingers curling into his hair. He sucks softly at the tender skin, his mustache scratches softly, in the best way.

He pulls back for just a moment and hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear, you lift your hips, he slides them down your legs, trailing their path with his mouth. He kisses your ankle tenderly and guides it over his shoulder.

Bradley shoves them into his pocket and nestles himself between your legs, glancing up at you. You look so beautiful, staring down at him so eager, but he doesn’t have time for heartfelt proclamations. He wastes no time in tasting you. Licking a stripe over your folds, he groans softly against your core.

You jolt at the feeling, watching him between your legs. He continues lapping at your core, thick fingers curling into you. You spread your legs wider for him — he grabs your thighs and guides them around his shoulders, pulling you impossibly closer.

He takes one hand away from your legs and palms himself over his dress pants, uncomfortably hard against the already tight fabric.

The wet muscle of his tongue dips inside of you, his nose brushing against your clit as he drags it slowly up again to the swollen nub. He traces the tip of his tongue around it before sucking hard then soft and letting go.

Your fingers curl tighter into his hair, panting out. Bradley groans against you, repeating the movements again and again until you’re crying out.

He grins against your skin at the shattered cry that slips your lips, sucking harder. You tug hard at his hair as his teeth gently scrape over it, your thighs squeezing around his ears. Rooster sucks at it softly again, fingertips digging into your thighs.

“What’s my name, baby?” He murmurs against your skin.

“Rooster, fuck!”

Bob and Fanboy stop walking at once, turning their heads to look at the door and then to look at each other. Mickey grins as he slips the joint between his lips, both of them shake their heads as they walk by the door.

They both laugh as they continue outside.

Your toes curl, heels pressing into his shoulders as he draws your orgasm from you. You cum, shuddering against his mouth. Rooster doesn’t ease up, lapping up your release, giving hums of approval as he guides you through the aftershocks.

He pulls away, raking his nails along your thighs. His eyes seem darker as he looks up at you this time. You push yourself upright, breathless. Rooster’s hands go for his belt as he stands up, tugging at the leather.

The sound you make is almost a growl. You pull him closer to you by his belt. He sighs contentedly as you pull it open, lips pressing hungrily to his throat. You leave his belt open, yanking down his zipper, pushing his boxers down just enough to expose him.

He rests one of his palms down on the desk, the other wrapping around the base of his cock. You both gasp softly as he pushes into you. You look up, met with pretty brown eyes. You whine softly.

“Oh fuck,” Rooster shivers, cupping your throat with his hand, pulling you in for a heavy kiss. You groan softly against him as he presses forwards until he’s buried into you completely. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

He rocks back, pulling almost all of the way out. Rooster rests his forehead to yours, lips parted as he looks down between the two of you, watching as he slides slowly back in. You whine through bitten lips, brows knitted in focus as your body stretches to accommodate him.

Forehead to forehead, your eyes meet for just a second. He curls his fingers tighter by just a fraction, guiding you in by your throat until his mouth is on yours. He nips softly at your bottom lip and uses the surprised gasp that follows as an opportunity to slip his tongue in against yours.

You moan softly against his lips, the sound catching in your throat as he squeezes at the sides of your neck and drives his hips forwards sharply.

“Ah - oh my god.” You whimper out, breathless, your eyes focused solely on him. He squeezes slightly tighter, setting a pace that has your head lulling back in pleasure.

“Look so fucking pretty, Mitchell.” He murmurs affectionately, lips brushing your earlobe as he fucks into you, constricting the airflow just enough to dizzy you without it hurting.

You smile at him, taking your bottom lip just slightly between your teeth. Rooster’s lips part. He takes in the sight of you, grinning devilishly at him, his hand around your throat as he fucks you.

“So pretty.” He breathes out unsteadily. He releases his hold, wetting his lips with his tongue as you gasp for air.

“Bradley - R-Rooster - fuck, fuck - that’s so good.” You whimper, grabbing onto his bicep for leverage, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He leans forwards and presses his lips to your hair, snapping his hips forward and making you cry out.

He goes right to setting a brutal pace, ruthless as he fucks into you. Just how you need it. You’re gasping, moaning out for him as he grunts in your ear.

“You gonna cum again for me, honey?” Bradley teases, punctuating his question with a hard snap of his hips that draws a pleasured shriek from your lips. You nod eagerly as his hand wraps around your throat once more.

A strangled moan slips your lips, your heel pressing into the small of his back. Rooster growls softly into the curve of your jaw, tugging at your hair as he pounds into you.

Your nail drag sharply down his back, leaving scorching red marks in their wake. Rooster’s hips stutter slightly at the feeling, he squeezes his fingers tight at the sides of your throat as he rams himself into you, hard. You cry out into his shoulder as your vision goes blisteringly white.

“Bradshaw? You in there?” Three heavy knocks rattle the door. Rooster takes his hand from your throat and clamps it over your mouth. Jake bangs at the door again.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck.” Bradley whispers. You squeak against his hand, the sensitivity making you tremble through the aftershocks of your second orgasm. You nod hurriedly, moaning against his palm.

You're vaguely aware of Rooster’s praises raining over you, telling you how good you feel — how good you’re doing for him, as you tremble under him. His hips stutter to a stop as he releases inside of you, pressing himself as close as he could possibly be.

He rocks his hips a little, riding out his high, groaning against the curve of your jaw.

“Bradshaw!” Jake pounds at the door again. “Maverick’s looking for you!”

Rooster blinks, looking down between your bodies and then back up at your face. You watch his adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“One second!” Bradley answers, curling his fingers around your hips. He rests his forehead against his shoulder, both of you whining just slightly as he pulls back and slips out of you.

“Oh my god.” You breathe, legs trembling. You push yourself up from the desk, hurrying the straps to your dress back up your shoulders to cover your chest.

“Rooster — you have a speech to give, man, you have to get out there!” Jake insists, knowing that Maverick is happy and smiling now but that things are likely to take a turn if the best man doesn’t show up soon.

“I’m-“ Rooster tucks himself back into his pants and rushes to buckle his belt. “I’m coming! — Just hold on.”

He looks to you and finds you smirking as you fix your hair. He’s not coming now, but he was a couple of seconds ago. Rooster grabs his shirt and jacket, slipping them on in one motion and fumbling to button up his shirt.

You turn around and look into the reflection of the candle holder, fixing up any smudged make up. You smooth your hair out once more, making sure there aren’t any indents from Rooster’s fingertips.

Rooster finishes buttoning his shirt and smooths out his hair, knowing it must be fucked up from how you were grabbing it when he was between your legs.

“I gotta go, I’ll - Just let me do this, I’ll come back-“

“Rooster, wait!”

He turns quickly.

“Rooster!” Jake calls again on the outside of the door, smacking his fist into it. Rooster’s eyes widen as you dip your hand into his pocket. You pull your underwear from it and hold it up.

“Oh, shit - sorry, honey. You look beautiful. I gotta go.” He leans in quickly and kisses your cheek. You step back, making sure Jake won’t spot you when the door opens.

Bradley opens it a fraction, slipping through the gap and slamming the door shut behind him.

Jake steps back and furrows his eyebrows, “Mav’s going to fucking kill you.”

“What? — Why? — I didn’t do anything.” Rooster rushes out, his cheeks flushed, eyes wide. All in all, looking fairly disheveled. He tucks his shirt into his pants.

“Because speeches started fifteen minutes ago and you were supposed to start. You’re going last now, but there’s only so long that Penny’s dad can stall for you, man — where’s your tie?” Jake frowns. Rooster looks down and realises his bow tie is still on the floor of the room he just exited. He shakes his head.

“Doesn’t matter. I have to pee, two seconds and I’ll be right there.”

“What? — I thought that was the bathroom, what were you? Oh. Oh, Bradshaw, you were not fucking one of the bridesmaids!”

“Shh!” Bradley hisses. He glares at Jake. “Go, stall for me, two seconds.”

Bradley rushes into the men’s room to clean up. You have the same plan. Jake’s handing Bradley the microphone when you step back into the room and cross to take your seat at the head table. Bradley’s on Mav’s left, you’re on Penny’s right.

“Where did you disappear to, honey?” Penny whispers as Bradley cracks jokes about Maverick’s wild, younger days.

You swallow, adjusting your dress slightly, lifting your head to look at Bradley. “Had to get some air.”

“Hm,” Penny hums, nodding her head softly. She smiles and pats your knee, “Amelia already told on you, sweetheart. Is that your lipstick on Bradley’s collar?”

You pick up the glass of champagne in front of you and take a long gulp.

…

[biblio-smia]

Hiiii! Love your work! This is gonna be a lengthy I apologize in advance lol. Do you think you can pls do a tasm! x fashion designer reader? (I’m a fashion major lmaooo) Like where the reader has a big debit show coming up and Peter misses bc he’s out on his spiderly duties. The reader doesn’t know he’s Spider-Man. Very angsty then very fluffy. Love confessions. Thank you!!!!!!

thank you + thank you for the request!! i loveee this idea <3 also definitely watched barbie a fashion fairytale while writing this LMAO

masterlist | requests are open!

Emotions swirled in your chest - beginning with anxiety and just a touch of nausea.

Then came the elation - it was like the feeling when people praised you for your designs only intensified by about a thousand.

You'd spent hours on the pieces now being carried on the runway, survived on less hours of sleep than you'd thought possible, and worked through headaches you were positive where going to split your skull open. You'd pricked your fingers, created permanent callouses on your fingers, and probably caused irreversible damage to your back to make your patterns and ideas come to life. It was one thing to draw them out on paper and another to create them, altering them and scratching out ideas that had looked good on paper but had not ended up liked you'd imagines - and something completely different to see them on models, to watch the audience awe and clap for what you'd created.

Your heart pounded with each excited congratulations! and hug after the show had ended, still reeling a little from the experience. It'd been over so quickly for all the time you'd poured into the preparation and how long the show would take to clean up, but you were sure your work had made an impression that would outlive the night.

But as the crowd died down and people filed out, you stood, waiting, for the congratulations you'd been anticipating all night - the one that'd probably mattered the most to you.

But as the crowd thinned into only a few heads of people that had begun occupying themselves with cleaning up, so dispersed there was no way Peter could've possibly missed you, that's when the realization had set in.

Peter hadn't come.

Now, there was a new feeling a chest. Your heart hadn't stopped pounding, but now there was a pain accompanying it in your chest and a lump in your throat you were struggling to swallow down.

You turned when you heard your name called, not sure what you were expecting - it was only one of your colleagues, asking if you'd like to grab drinks to celebrate.

You teeter, almost let the idea persuade you, but ultimately decide against it with a small maybe next time! - because you're not really sure if you'd be able to hold the tears in if you got intoxicated.

Plus, a little piece of your heart holds out hope that maybe your boy would still show up - maybe he got pushed out by the crowd, or couldn't find you and decided to wait for you outside.

But as you stepped out into the dark night and looked around at the empty street, any last hope died.

The journey home created an ideal environment for your disappointment to brew into a strong, dark anger, scowl on your face sure to scare any strangers on the sidewalk off and away from you. You were nearing furious by the time you reached your door, shoving your keys into the lock and hurting your hands with the intensity you pulled them out with, cold metal painfully digging into your hot fingers.

Your anger didn't mellow as you turned your phone off, refusing to let Peter have any way to contact you - at least for tonight. You needed a few hours away from him. Maybe longer. You'd decide that later.

A shower tamed your flames, water burning you out and leaving behind something that craved only the soft comfort of your bed.

You'd only made it a few steps into your room when your ears perked at the sound of tapping at your window. Your eyes followed, trying to identify the source of the noise, and you jumped when you saw Peter on your fire escape.

If it hadn't been so cold out, you would've left him outside.

At least, that's what you told yourself afterwards.

But that searing rage had returned, warming your entire body and making you resistant to the cold air that blew in along with Peter the second you opened the window.

"Did you climb up here?" You spat out, immediately backing up and crossing your arms, scowl making its way on your face again.

Peter didn't need to look at you to feel your anger.

He'd been so close to making it this time - but, like always, something had come up. That'd been his excuse so many times, to so many people, it was starting to become pathetic even to Peter. He'd paced for close to an hour, biting the inside of his cheek raw while wondering how he was going to make it up to you. Peter knew how much this night had meant to you. He'd promised to be there, to support you and all the work you'd put in; the long hours you spent beside Peter, refusing to accept his help. The days where Peter had to force you away from your desk to have a break, all the snacks he'd made to fuel you and your beautiful brain.

And now, as Peter was so famous for doing, he blew it.

"W...what? Oh, yeah, I just-" Well, Peter had swung here, but he'd get around to explaining that. For now, he was more focused on trying to get his words out without stuttering pathetically. "I just- I needed to tell you something."

You stood, silent, arms crossed and eyes dark. Peter didn't need a translation to know you were telling him to spit it out.

Peter swallows thickly. He takes a deep breath. He forces himself to look straight into your eyes.

"I'm Spiderman." Peter goes the extra mile and tugs on the neckline of his shirt, revealing a sliver of the suit in case you don't believe him.

It's silent, which Peter begins to believe is the worst outcome with each second it drags on. You falter for just a few moments before your eyebrows furrow, somehow even angrier this time, because you, in all your hot anger, cannot bring yourself to fully process the information Peter has just thrown at you - or, frankly, care.

"So? You think that's just gonna fix everything?" You step closer to Peter, words like venom.

"I-"

"You what? You think I'm just gonna forgive you because you're Spiderman? Peter, you know how much this meant to me. And now you show up, hours after you're supposed to, telling me you're Spiderman?"

"Well, I brought these," Peter offers weakly, pulling a bouquet of flowers out of his bag. Crushed. Peter watches as a petal falls lamely to the ground.

"Impressive," you say so sarcastically it hurts, rolling your eyes with a sigh. "God, Peter, you are such a dick!"

Peter can sense you're about to send him out of that window flying, but he just can't leave before saying everything he needed to say.

"W-wait! Please, just hang on, I... I am so sorry," Peter starts, hands on your shoulders desperately. "I really am. Truly. I wanted to be there tonight, I tried so hard to be there, something got in the way... but that doesn't matter. I should've been there, or at least texted, or something, you're right, I'm sorry. And this," Peter motions to his chest. "is not an excuse, at all. I just wanted to tell the truth. I owe you at least that."

"Yeah, you owe a lot more than that," you scoff, shoving Peter's shoulder. It's not hard but Peter winces painfully in a way that fills you immediately with guilt. You roll up Peter's sleeve but see only a pattern of red and black. You look at him expectantly and he does his best to slide his arm out of his suit from under his shirt - all to reveal a nasty bruise, right where you'd hit him.

"Well, now I feel bad," you murmur, dragging Peter to your kitchen for some ice, trying not to think about how dangerous the things he got involved with as Spiderman probably were - how he'd clearly been doing something more important while missing the show.

"Don't," Peter insists, letting you sit him down and press ice against the bruise, focusing on not wincing. "I deserve it."

"You don't, Pete," you sigh, careful not to let your eyes wander to Peter's - it's hard, though, feeling him stare at you so woefully from your peripheral.

But you slip eventually, Peter catching your eyes before you can look away.

"I'm sorry," he says again, reaching for your hand slowly, tenderly, wondering if you'll let him.

You do.

"I know you are, Peter."

It's quiet for a few moments before you sigh, examining Peter's arm for any other bruises.

"It's just the one," Peter confirms, before asking shyly, "Kiss it better?"

You roll your eyes but you push Peter's sleeve up further, careful not to touch the bruise as you place your lips on the top of Peter's shoulder, right next to a small freckle.

"I meant here," Peter taps his lips with a smile.

"Don't push it." You move away from Peter and he stands, following you around as you stop at a cupboard and dig around until you find an empty vase. Peter watches silently as you fill it with water and wordlessly back into your room, where you pick up the flowers from where Peter had left them on your nightstand and place them carefully inside the vase.

"They were beautiful when I bought them," Peter mutters.

"They're still nice," you insist. "So," you begin, taking a seat on your bed. "Do I really want to hear the details about all the dangers Spiderman has faced?"

"Depends on how much you still hate me," Peter replies, opening up a drawer full of your sleep shirts, sure he'll find one (or a few) of his among them. He does, and he's quick to start pulling his clothes off. Unfortunately, Peter hasn't come up with a better way of getting his suit off just yet.

"Is watching people undress part of the job?" Peter asks with a grin, slipping his head through your (his) shirt.

"No, we usually watch them get dressed," you hum.

"So it's just me then?" Peter drops next to you on your bed, pulling your laptop from its place on your nightstand.

"Okay, you were the one who started taking your clothes off in front of me."

"You looked."

You rolled your eyes but you smiled as Peter pulled you into his side, balancing your laptop between the two of you. He's quick to pull up clips of the show and you're surprised to see it already online; you're also surprised to see the few hundreds of views already, considering it had only been a few hours since the show.

"Tell me everything," Peter insists, propping himself up to focus his attention back on you.

So you do.

Peter has always been a good listener when it came to you, captivated by the way you speak. He's told you before that he could listen to you talk about nothing for hours, but he makes an extra effort to really pay attention tonight. He asks questions about the show and about intricacies that he doesn't quite understand.

You can tell when you're beginning to lose him, at some point where you're talking about the different stitches you had to use to create a certain design on one of your pieces.

Some of it Peter has heard already, but he listens regardless. He's set the laptop aside now, fingers drawing figures on your arm as he hums and nods.

You've gotten to the end, where you casually mention the invitation for drinks you got. Peter frowns, head propped on his hand so you can see the severity of his pout.

"What would you have done then?" You ask curiously.

"Waited," Peter said like it was obvious.

"What if I stayed out all night?"

"Well then I would've had to break in," Peter grins.

"You're a nuisance."

"The person you've turned me into," Peter rolls onto you, pressing his head into your neck.

"I have a feeling you've always been like this."

"Maybe," Peter hums against your skin, pressing his lips into your skin.

"I haven't forgiven you yet. You're still a dick."

"I am," Peter agrees, pulling his head away to look at you, arms caging you in at your sides. "The worst. Call me Penis Parker."

You can't help but laugh at that one, which of course makes Peter grin.

"You still owe me," you say sternly, hands meeting at the back of Peter's neck, capturing him in a loose hold. "For, like, the rest of your life."

"I owe you," Peter nods quickly, pressing a kiss to the inside of your arm. "For the rest of my life. Just as long as you're in it."

Peter's voice goes quiet towards the end, implicating something you hadn't intended for originally. Peter notices how your eyes widen slightly and he bites his lip.

"Uh, well, I don't think this is really the best time to tell you, but... uh," Peter hesitates, moving off of you, choosing to sit up next to you instead. "I... I love you."

You're sitting him, mouth slightly agape. All you'd expected tonight was a congratulations from Peter, not a love confession.

The silence scares him until Peter manages to hear your elevated heart rate (only barely over his own). Your face is hot and Peter's about to insist that you don't have to respond right now when you're pulling him in, slowly. Your hand is on his cheek and Peter's arms have shyly wrapped around you. Your noses bump and Peter tilts his head, not quite shutting his eyes just yet. His breath comes out a little strained and you know he's not gonna go for it until you do.

"I love you, Peter," you whisper. "But don't ever do that again."

Peter nods, moving to place a hand on your chin. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good."

And you lean in, finally, capturing Peter's lips in a kiss he was terrified he'd never experience again. He savored it now, hungry, refusing to let you go. He relished the funny feeling that your words created in his chest, pulling you close and making you feel every little ounce of love he had for you.

Peter wouldn't risk losing you again as long as he could help it.

[tieronecrush]

hot & heavy

chapter eleven: star-spangled eyes

neighbor!joel x f!reader

series masterlist

series rating: E (18+ MDNI)

series summary:

over the course of three summers, joel miller becomes woven into your life. the first summer is spent falling for him; nannying his daughter and sneaking around with him in a burning love affair. you know how you feel about joel, he isn’t so sure about how it all is gonna work. the second summer is brief. a month spent at home after graduation and before you move to boston for your dream job. one look at you, one time hearing your voice, and joel is hooked again. he pines over you for that month, but you think — how is long distance of over a thousand miles going to work for a single dad? the third summer, you return home burnt out and pride bruised from your post-grad life. you need time to feel at home again, like your complete self, so you’ve come back home with no return ticket booked. it’s only a matter of time before joel seeks you out, slowly spending more time with you. without an inevitable end to the summer looming over you both, what chances are you willing to take?

word count: 7.9k

warnings: NO OUTBREAK (don’t need to worry about the mushies), no use of y/n, inexperienced reader, age gap (joel is 30/31, reader is 22), canon-divergent (sarah is 7 y/o), nanny au, pet names (sweetheart, darling, sweet girl, mariposa, etc.), polite southern manners, feeling familial and self-pressure, ESTABLISHED relationship FINALLY, spanish cause joel is latino, unprotected p in v, dirty talkkk king joel miller, soft (and soft dom) joel, possessive joel, mentions of depression and symptoms, struggling with self, discussion of parenting, angst, MAJOR doubt! and displays of nationalism! yay!

a/n: thank you as always to the bestie/cousin/sister wife/sweet, sweet gf @northernbluess for beta-reading this chapter, seriously i can't write without you so don't ever leave me pls. also thank you all for being so patient with this chapter while i was away! enjoy xxx

“Morning, Millers! Happy Fourth!” Your dad’s voice booms in your ear from where he stands behind you at the garage door, waving to the three Millers as they walk over to your driveway. “Y’all ready for a day on the lake?”

“Sure are. Thanks again for invitin’ us, can we pack up the cooler and everything in my truck? Might make it easier to access since you’ve got the boat hitched up here.” Joel glances your way, the slightest curve of his mouth when you catch his stare, turning toward your dad.

“Well, that’d be just great! We’ve got a couple more bags inside, but think you can take care of these things for now?” Your dad gestures to the things behind you both, clapping his hands when Joel confirms and steps forward to grab the supplies. Slipping back into the house to help your mom with last-minute prep, your dad leaves you with the Miller crew outside.

“Long time, no see, Posey.” Tommy teases as he grabs a tote from his older brother as Joel gives him a glare, earning a smile and shrug from you. “Definitely didn’t hear you sneaking out the kitchen door this mornin’ from my place sleeping on the couch.”

“Get all of that out now before we’re constantly around my parents all day, Thomas.” Joel straightens up at the slightest edge of your voice, masked with teasing as he walks away from you standing with Tommy, grumbling to himself as he goes to load everything for the festivities into his truck.

“Yeesh, somebody’s in a mood. Sometimes he wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, but you probably know that.” Tommy hikes the bag onto his shoulder further, grimacing slightly with a familiar furrowed brow — you can see even more of the resemblance with that.

“I’ve seen him crabby, but it’s honestly been pretty rare. He was fine this morning.” Watching from your driveway, Joel’s shoulders move underneath the navy t-shirt he’s got on, lifting everything into the bed of his truck. Tommy follows over there, loading up the rest of the things that your dad brings out from the house. You pick up one tote, Joel approaching behind you and skimming a hand over your lower back.

“I can take that, sweetheart.” He holds a hand out at your side, giving you a tight lip smile as you nod and stutter out an agreement, handing the bag over to him. Your parents walk outside at that moment, your mom rifling through her purse while your dad calls into the house for your brother, Chris, before shutting the door.

“Everyone ready to go?” Your mom looks up, meeting your eyes as Joel gives her a nod and a smile, walking over to his truck to get Sarah in. “Oh gosh, we really overpacked, didn’t we?”

“You always pack for the boat as if we’re going on a sailing trip out to the Gulf. But at least we’ll be prepared,” you say with a laugh, adjusting the strap of your swimsuit underneath your cover-up dress, turning around, and exchanging another look with Joel as he climbs into his car.

There’s the smallest flash of those ‘what ifs’ that plagued your mind a few nights ago, tamped down for the last few days. You clear your throat of the acidic burn, climbing into the back of your dad’s truck and watching Chris shuffle out of the house still half asleep, climbing in next to you with a mumbled greeting.

After you ignore it, he asks, “What the hell has you in a mood?”

If only you could say something.

You climb out of the back of your dad’s truck once you reach the docks, making your way over to Joel’s truck parked in the lot to help unload while your dad and Chris drop the boat in. Sidling up to him at the back of the cab, you reach for your personal bag that you packed with your things like a book and extra sunscreen and a change of clothes. His hand intercepts yours, looking at you with one side of his mouth lifted.

“I got it for you, Mari. D’you mind walkin’ with Sarah?” He nods to where she’s stood on the sidewalk nearby, observing all of the boats in the small lakeside harbor. Glancing back at Joel, you give him a gentle smile, reaching to give his arm a squeeze.

“Thanks, J. I’ll take Sarah down there. You sure you and Tommy don’t need any help?” You suspiciously eye the amount of stuff occupying the truck bed, quirking a brow at him.

“Positive, darlin’. Y’all head down there, we’ll be right behind you both.” He leans in a few inches as if he’s going to kiss you, halting in his movements and letting out a barely audible sigh before straightening up again and looping a few more bags onto his arms. Your stomach flips around with the need to complete his motions, to close the gap that was there between you, but you respect the boundaries he wants to keep around your family, instead walking over to Sarah and taking her hand. 

Guiding her down the winding path, she tells you all about how excited she is to go swimming and to see the fireworks later, swinging your joined hands. You stop at the end of the dock, waiting as your dad and Chris pull around to where you and your mom are; Joel and Tommy come up behind you with all the goods, loading them onto the boat with your dad and Chris when they come around. Tommy hops on after swinging the cooler over the side, Joel stepping down after. Your dad offers your mom a hand while Joel picks up Sarah easily and sets her down, reaching a hand out to you afterward.

Gingerly taking it, you swing one foot onto the seat, bringing the other over and tripping a bit. You sway back and forth, a heavy hand tightly gripping your side to steady you.

“Y’alright? Nearly fell in there, sweetheart.”

Nodding and taking a breath, Joel drops his hand from you and helps you the rest of the way down and onto the seat. Your mom digs out a child’s life jacket from one of the storage compartments, passing it to you.

“D’you mind getting that on Sarah, honey? She’s gotta wear it to stay safe. Too many nutcases out on the water today.”

You call Sarah over, smiling as she stands in front of you and explaining that she has to keep this on while everyone’s on the boat. Easily slipping her arms in, you close it in front of her chest, clipping and securing the clips one at a time. Joel sits next to you, a few more inches apart than normal, patting Sarah’s curls and giving you a sideways glance.

“You wanna sit here between us, mija?” Joel pats the spot, helping Sarah scoot back onto the bench. He stretches his arm behind her, grazing your arm and brushing his fingers against the knit material of your cover-up. Joel relaxes for the first time all morning, content to stay like this all day if it was his choice. Both of his girls next to him, as close as he can get to you without breaking the boundaries he set himself.

With everyone seated, your dad at the helm, the boat lurches to life when the engines turnover and it idly cruises out of the harbor area before picking up speed to drive around the lake for a bit. The wind blows against all of you, Sarah giggling at the excitement of the ride. You turn to look at her, beaming a smile as she holds onto your arm. Joel watches the small interaction, his heart pumping the subtlest bit harder in his chest.

You’re so patient with Sarah, so kind, compassionate, silly, and serious — you’re exactly what she needs right now, what she’s missing that Joel can’t quite ever be no matter how hard he tries.

The words burn into his mind, sitting in his throat where he holds it back on his tongue. Later. He can say it later. At some point.

After a few laps and weaves around the lake, your dad idles the boat up to a cluster of fellow lake-goers, dropping the anchor and turning off the engines. Everyone shuffled around, Sarah popping up and asking to go in the water straight away.

“Gotta put some sunscreen on ya first, Bug. How about we do that, wait a few minutes for it to dry and you can drink some water and then go swimming?” Joel stands up, glancing around for their own bag they packed. You’re still seated, sorting through your own tote and pulling out your sunscreen.

“Here, use mine. Sure we’ll find your bag in a minute but don’t think Sare-Bear here wants to wait any longer than she has to for swimming.” You smile at her before handing the tube off to Joel, a quiet “thanks” in response. He gets some on Sarah, asking her to sit and wait for it to dry before handing the lotion back to you. Joel steps around you to find their bag on the other end of the boat, walking back over with spray sunscreen and stripping off his shirt to apply some himself.

Stealing glances at you, his mouth dries out when he watches you peel off the cover-up, setting it aside and leaving you clad in your bikini. The sight of you applying the sunscreen sends him back to that first summer, the view from his window into yours of you naked and applying body lotion — a show only for him. He swallows hard and shakes himself out of his thoughts, ignoring you off to his side until he hears you speak up.

“Hey, Tommy, d’you mind gettin’ my back for me since you’re waitin’ on the sunscreen from Joel?” He watches you cross over to Tommy before he can call out a protest, the words dying in his throat when he knows he doesn’t have any claim over you today. Tommy shrugs at Joel, helping you out while he watches on enviously.

Huffing out a sigh, he finishes his own application, throwing the bottle back in the bag and sitting back down in the sun. He slips his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose from the top of his head, closing his eyes and basking in some of the warmth before Sarah begs to get into the water.

Joel hears you mumble a curse under your breath, feeling your presence next to him. Tilting his head down and opening his eyes again, he glances at you sideways and questions, “Something wrong?”

“I stupidly left my sunglasses in the car. I set them down next to my bag instead of putting them inside of it,” you sigh and look around the boat in hopes that some sort of idea pops into your head. Joel reaches up, takes off his own pair of glasses, and hands them to you.

“Here, y’can borrow mine. Won’t need them in the water with Sarah anyway, just gonna lose ‘em if I wear them in the lake.” He gives you a shrug and a thoughtful smile, your fingers brushing his when you exchange the sunglasses. Your own smile that you give him flips his insides, a knowing look shared that says ‘I’d kiss you right now if I could’.

And he desperately wants to.

“Thanks, J—oel. Joel,” you catch yourself with the affectionate nickname, stuttering out the rest of his name and making him chuckle as he stands up.

“Anytime.” A flash of a wink nearly makes you stutter again, slipping the glasses on as Joel, Sarah, Tommy, and Chris all get in the water to cool off from the already blazing heat.

About a half hour later, Joel and Tommy rumble up the ladder back onto the boat, leaving Chris in charge of entertaining Sarah by spinning her in the inner tube that’s been inflated. The Millers measly dry off before Tommy wanders over to the cooler. Joel steps over to where you’re lying out on the bench, shaking his curls out over you with your eyes closed behind his sunglasses. The cool water drips over you, opening your eyes in a flash and sitting up.

“Rude,” you mumble as you wipe the drips of water and Joel sits next to you where your thighs once were. He chuckles and shrugs casually, leaning back against the side of the boat and propping his elbows up behind him. He’s sitting only a few inches away, and with your parents sitting and chatting at the other end, they don’t hear as he leans in and speaks low to you.

“Y’looked hot. I was only tryin’ to cool you down.” He winks and smirks smugly, dragging his eyes up and down your body when you stand and patter over to the cooler where Tommy’s retrieved a beer from.

“You want a drink, Joel?” you ask over your shoulder, nodding in confirmation when he says yes.

“Probably should get some water as well. You, too. Gotta stay hydrated in the heat.”

“Hm, guess so.” You grab a plastic bottle and turn around, lobbing it to him to catch. You pick up another for yourself, grabbing a can of beer for Joel and a popsicle for you. As you turn around with your pickings, you take the beer can in one hand, heading straight on for Joel and press it into your skin against your sternum, sighing a bit extra as the icy cold aluminum sits against your sun-warmed body.

Dragging it across, the condensation drips across your body, dropping the can down in between your breasts as you stand with your back to your parents. Another sigh breathed directly towards Joel, the slightest pitch change up at the end indetectable to Tommy across the boat but unignorable for Joel.

He clears his throat, taking the can from you gingerly as you hold it out for him, equally as smug of a smirk on your face. You take your seat next to him again, setting your water bottle to the side of you and unwrapping the popsicle as Joel cracks his beer and takes a sip.

“Lucky it’s still cold,” he grumbles under his breath, making you laugh quietly and a smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

Between your thumb and index, you grip the wooden stick of the red, white, and blue rocket pop, bringing it up to your lips and starting to lick it as you make conservation with Tommy, a thought popping into your head as ‘Fortunate Son’ by Creedence Clearwater Revival starts playing over the boat’s speakers.

“D’you get a lot of people thanking you for your service when they find out you were in the army, Tommy?”

“Eh, some really. Fellow veterans really don’t, and I don’t care to mention it that much to people. Most they notice is the sticker on my car in like the grocery store parking lots and they’ll say it quickly or give me a nod,” he shrugs and waves the question off, “Plus, you definitely don’t get people saying it to me on the Fourth. People gettin’ too drunk outta their minds in the name of their freedom.”

“Well, if no one else says it today, then thanks, Tommy. War is the stupidest thing man invented, but m’glad you made it home safe.”

Tommy holds up his can of beer and tips it toward you while you pop the icy, sugary treat out of your lips and hold it up with a laugh.

“Cheers,” he says with a smile.

Joel merely listened to you two the whole time, chatting back and forth while Tommy pounds his beer and tossed it into the recycling bag before jumping back into the lake. You’ve still got your popsicle, sliding it between your lips absentmindedly next to Joel, who keeps glancing to the side as you.

At the next, admittedly overdramatized, suck of popsicle between your lips, slurping the sugary juice before a drip slips out of the corner of your mouth. You wipe it up with your thumb, about to turn to Joel to ask if you’ve got food coloring on your face when he shifts next to you, one hand attempting to adjust himself before he grumbles a few curses and stands up. The water and beer are left ignored in cup holders, the small, subtle bulge in his trunks giving you a smirk that you bite back as he stomps over to the side of the boat and jumps in to cool off.

Throwing out the popsicle stick, you drink some of your water before meandering over to the side of the boat and climbing down the ladder and into the lake water. An instant chill is spread across your body, relaxing your muscles and washing off the slight sweat that built up under the blazing sun. Paddling over to the rest of the group in the water, you exchange a quick look with Joel before Sarah and Chris pull you into some sort of game. Twenty minutes go by before Sarah gets bored of the water, hungry and thirsty, and when Joel moves to help her out of the water and onto the boat, Tommy offers to get out with her to have another beer and some snacks himself. Chris gets out along with them, leaving you and Joel alone in the water.

He swims over to where you’re treading water, a soft, friendly smile on his face. “Hi, Mari.”

“Hey, J.”

A wider grin spreads across his lips, swimming away for a moment to fetch the inner tube that Sarah was using bringing it over and slipping it over your head. A laugh leaves your lips when you can’t see over it for a moment, pushing the tube down and climbing onto the side to lean on it. You float above Joel’s eyeline, his neck slightly tilted to look into your eyes hidden behind his sunglasses.

“You look nice today, darlin’,” he hums and treads water in front of you, reaching out a hand underwater and toying with the material of your swimsuit at your hip.

“Only nice?” you tease, leaning over the side of the inner tube a bit more, biting your bottom lip.

“Well, I could say more but probably don’t want my thoughts overheard,” he mirrors your smirk and snaps the elastic of the swimsuit against your skin, fingertips trailing down your thighs, “You do look more than nice though. You look beautiful. S’a pretty swimsuit and, uh, that dress thing—”

“My cover-up?”

“Yeah, yeah. I like your cover-up. It’s nice. A shame it covers up all this, but y’know you still look gorgeous either way.” He gives you a wink and squeezes one of your thighs.

“Thanks, J. You look pretty, too. But you always look pretty — got your curls and your tanned skin and broad shoulders and big brown eyes,” you giggle quietly as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head bashfully.

“You’re always pretty, too, Mari. You always look beautiful. La mujer más hermosa del mundo (The most beautiful woman in the world).”

It’s quiet for a moment as the two of you look at each other, silently admiring before you break first, your voice covered by all the commotion of the lake around you but audible to Joel right in front of you. “I wish I could kiss you right now.”

His shoulders sag underwater and his brow creases subtly, bottom lip pouting, “M’sorry.”

“It’s okay, J. Wasn’t a good time to tell them. Later, right?” You give a sad smile that he returns, squeezing his hands against your thighs with a short nod.

“Later.”

After floating around and chatting with Joel until you were turning pruney and nearly falling asleep in the water, he pushes the inner tube toward the boat and follows behind you to get back.

“Y’need to get some water and somethin’ to eat, sweetheart. Probably dehydrated at this rate cause you look like you’re about to pass out.” Joel pats the tube with his hand to silently ask you to get out to go up the ladder.

“M’just sleepy, the sun feels warm. Like a cat, jus’ wanna nap in the sunlight,” you mumble out, stretching your arms up and your legs toward Joel underwater, pointed toes hitting his thighs. He grabs you by the ankles, tugging a bit to move you closer before he nods to the blown-up floaty.

“Maybe so, but you still haven’t had any water for at least an hour and you haven’t had anything to eat besides the popsicle. Let’s go up, Mariposa.” His voice is decided — filled with care and not control. It compels you to follow what he says, slipping the tube over your head and wading over to the ladder. Joel follows you out, dripping on the boat and grabbing his towel as your brother tosses yours from the bench.

Drying off and wrapping your towel around you, drops of water trail off of you all the way to the seat where you plop down next to Tommy. Joel heads to the cooler, grabbing out water for both of you. He asks around if anyone else wants one, getting a few hollered answers as he throws them all around. When he returns to sit down again, he hands you yours along with a snack — one of the Tupperware filled with some chopped fruit. Sarah wanders over when you open it, standing in front of you to share. Joel throws the bottle of sunscreen over to you, asking to reapply for Sarah and reminding you to do it for yourself. 

“Alright, everybody, heads up. The plan right now is to move the boat and park up by a friend of ours’ house on the lake here. And there we’ll grill out and have some dinner and then come back onto the boat for fireworks before headin’ home,” your dad explains as he moves back into the driving seat, “Sound alright for y’all?”

Everyone’s in agreement, kicking it into gear as you let Sarah next to you to continue sharing the snack while your dad lifts the anchor. Holding onto her while you ride over, Joel takes in the sight of you two across from him, a steady flap of butterfly wings smack dab in the middle of his chest.

Su Mariposa y su mariposita. His butterfly and his little butterfly — his Bug. His girls.

He finds himself thanking the universe for leading him to someone as nurturing and patient and kind as you to love. A lonely road ending with you.

It’s a thought he continues to have throughout the rest of the evening, small moments that he sees of you with his daughter, his brother, your own family and friends. Effortless. You make it all seem so effortless and natural, but Joel knows how much energy a day like today will take from you; from your spirit. He can’t claim to know exactly what’s on your mind, but all he can do is fight the urge to blurt out a loud ‘thank you’ in the middle of the lawn.

Even through everything, you have a smile on your face for him and your loved ones. You’re strong, perseverant. Someone he looks up to, and hopes that you can be that type of role model for his daughter. Not perfect, not idolized. Real.

“She’s just completely enamored with Sarah, isn’t she?” your mom’s voice pulls Joel out of his thoughts, realizing his eyes were trained in you and Sarah as you help her make a plate for dinner from the large spread on the deck tables. Joel looks up to his left, a gentle and sheepish smile on his face as he nods slowly.

“She’s great with Sarah. Has been since that first summer. I think Sarah has way more fun with her and listens to her way more than she does me,” Joel chuckles softly and your mom laughs with a nod.

“That’s how it always is. The kids always loved their babysitters and looked up to them in a different sort of way. We were lucky to have the sitters we did to help raise the kids right, y’know?”

“I do know. Feel the same way since we moved in next door. The whole family’s been a real help—“

“But there’s just something about her, isn’t there?”

“Exactly. Can’t quite put my finger on it. But there’s something special there. Maybe she should consider it for a career, nannying I mean. Always seemed to be happy with Sarah during the summer.” Both sets of eyes are still on you across the way, focused on Sarah and guiding her through the muck of people to keep her from getting overwhelmed.

“I think there might be something just special there. In all of her babysitting and nannying years, can’t say she’s had as much fun as she did with Sarah.”

“Guess I should thank you for volunteering her that first summer. Probably the best recommendation I’ve gotten from a neighbor,” Joel laughs to himself, shaking his head subtly as he thinks of all the time you two have had together over the years.

“Thank me later, how about that? End of this summer, you can thank me for getting her to do what she was too chicken to do,” your mom laughs quietly, “Talking to the new neighbor and getting a job.”

“Uh, yeah, alright.” Your mom shares a smile with Joel before walking off to chat to some friends, leaving Joel to wonder what she meant by that exactly.

Back onto the boat after dinner with the larger party, your family and the Millers caravanned into the middle of the lake with a bunch of other boaters, dropping anchor in the cluster.

There is a platform in the middle of the lake, installed there with taut chains to the bottom where the same family lights off an impressive fireworks display every year. Helping your mom hand around the last bit of drink and some cookies for dessert, you finally are able to snag a spot by Sarah and Joel on the other side of her. Once you get settled, Sarah looks over at you with her sun-kissed face and big brown eyes just like her dad’s. Wordlessly, she scoots closer to you before deciding to simply climb onto your lap, you accepting her company with open arms.

“You comfy?” you wrap your arms around to hug her to your chest and keep her on your thighs, smiling as she nods with a quiet yawn. Her head leans back on your shoulder, one of your hands coming up to run your fingers through her curls.

Joel slides over a few inches, a hand’s width away from you, relaxing with you close by. The sight of Sarah so comfortable with you, and you her, brings back those butterfly wings stronger than before. What he would give to be able to put his arm around you and give you a kiss — to have his little unit of three together.

Damn, maybe he should have said something to your parents…

No, no. This was the smart choice. It’s the smart choice to keep it this way around them until things are certain. He’s all in for you, but there is still a small whispering of doubt that he feels every once in a while.

Are you going to resent him at any point? Will you want to leave again at the end of summer, to leave him behind and continue your life somewhere else? He knows you care about him, he knows how much you care about Sarah. But does he rely too much on you? Is it too much to sign up to be with him and also sign up to have a daughter along with it all?

Every time he thinks about telling your family, all he can imagine is the worst scenario. Disowning, no contact, moving. Joel’s insecurities fester in these imaginings, finding out how to make every new thought worse than the last.

It’s not fair to you, he knows that. But he needs time. Time to find the right words, to make the right promises.

A small, pathetic pop of a firecracker grabs everyone’s attention, the fizzle of the main display filling the air. Sarah sits up in your lap, eyes turned up along with yours as the fireworks start to go, drowning out whatever you’re saying to her as you point and smile widely. The reflection of the lights dissipates in your eyes each time, short explosions fading out to the night sky again.

Joel seems to be the only one with his gaze turned away from the opening in the clouds, a thought flashing into his head like one of the fireworks before he acts on it. Fingers brush your hip, catching on the open-knit and your head turns to face him, the same smile you had with Sarah still on your face. He leans in behind her head, his nose brushes against yours before he kisses you — soft and delicate and not nearly enough for what he needs in the moment but it satiates something for him.

You’re smiling against his lips, stealing one last quick peck before pulling back, the same wide grin from before spread across your cheeks as you whisper to him.

“Naughty.”

“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for it with the teasing all day. Better be coming over tonight after all of that,” Joel responds back, the noise drowned to everyone else on the boat by the repeated launches of large fireworks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, J. I thought I was being peaceful and relaxed all day.”

At that you turn your head up again, listening to Sarah as she talks about the bursting lights and starts pointing at all of the cool moments again. Joel continues to watch you fall back into the moment with her, he content with being an observer — and for giving you a tiny token of all that he’s been feeling today.

But damn is he eager to get you alone.

It was a long while to get home and get everything unpacked from the car and into the garage, but you’ve finally managed to shower and change; behind you, you slowly pull the sliding glass door closed to your basement studio, wandering across your backyard and into Joel’s to his backdoor.

Knocking lightly, it isn’t long before the door opens, and Joel’s hands find your waist to tug you inside, tripping over your feet across the threshold.

“Hey, J—” Your words are cut off by his lips on yours, a heavy kiss enveloping your breath while your hands search across his arms and up to his chest. Returning his kiss gives more energy behind his movements, fingers digging into your hips and directing you backward until your lower back hits the edge of the kitchen counter. There’s a split second that he pulls away to help you up onto the surface, his large frame leaning in again to catch your lips with his.

Pressure at his chest from your palms keeps him a few inches away from your face, eyes meeting his as your breaths recover shallowly.

“What a greeting,” you laugh, voice hoarse as you keep your volume low.

“Missed bein’ able to kiss you, Mari. Holdin’ you. And you were such a fucking tease all day, darlin’,” he rasps out, brow creased as he holds your gaze.

“Was not.”

“Was too, Mari.” Joel slips his hands into the bend of your legs, spreading them apart to step between them. He pulls you further to the edge pressing his bulge into your thigh as he sighs, letting his breath fan over your face, “Feel what you do to me, pretty girl? Been wanting you all day. Need you so bad, Mariposa.”

Your own sigh matches his, eyes closing for a moment as he starts to grind against your clothed center, stuttering out a response, “Cou—Could’ve touched me today. Maybe we should’ve snuck off at the barbecue…”

Both of you chuckle, Joel’s much darker than yours, “Don’t tell me that now, baby. You’ve got no idea what I would’ve done to you if we had a second alone.”

“We’re alone now. Show me what you would’ve done.”

“Yeah? You wanna know?” His parted mouth trails warm breath against your skin, his nose ghosting against your cheek before he presses kisses into your jawline.

“Please, J,” you whine, mouth right against his ear as he leans over to kiss your neck. One hand tangles into the curls at the nape of his neck, damp from the shower that you can smell on him — the sandalwood musk scent of his body wash. A deep breath of the scent races your heart along with his wandering hands, him standing fully in front of you again.

“Gonna have to be quiet, baby. Have a full house tonight. Silent, got it?”

All you do is nod in response, holding his head as you close the gap between you two with fervor. Joel rumbles out a moan into your mouth, tugging you close and off the counter, his impatience reeling after the day.

Fumbling around with cheeky grabs and gropes over each other, you get turned to face the counter and Joel’s hands hook into your waistband — sleep short and panties — to tug them down just enough to drop them down your legs and let you step one foot out. He pulls himself free from his shorts and boxers, a handful of your ass in his palm as he quietly moans to himself. One swipe of his fingers through your folds tells him exactly how much you want him, devilish smirk crossing his face.

“Felt like this the whole day, pretty girl? Must’ve been so needy, Mari. Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. Déjame cuidarte, cariño. Déjame sentirte. (Let me take care of you, darling. Let me feel you.)”

“Please, please, J—“

“Shh. S’alright, sweet Mari. Think you can take me, want to take my cock like the good girl you are?” He questions you in a raspy whisper, taking himself in one hand and guiding the head of his cock through your wetness.

“Fuck…” you draw out quietly, nodding quickly as you look over your shoulder at him, “I can take it, please give it to me.”

“Pretty girl jus’ begging for me, yeah? Got to be quiet,” Joel reminds you before he lines himself up, slowly opening you up with his cock. The stretch is painful at first, whimpers echoing in your closed mouth while you grip the counter’s edge and bite the inside of your cheek.

With slow, shallow thrusts at first, Joel works you to relax around him, nodding to himself when he sees your shoulder relax and your head fall forward out of pleasure when he starts to pick up the pace behind you.

“That’s it, baby, such a good girl. Mi buena chica. Sabes cómo tomarlo, Mari. (My good girl. You know how to take it.)”

A moan slips from your lips and cuts through the relative silence, your head snapping over your shoulder to Joel. He shakes his head, sliding one hand up your side to hold around your mouth, covering up any more noises and giving him leverage to arch your back for him as he fucks you harder.

“Shit, pretty girl, not gonna last—Fuck, muy apretado y mojado. (Fuck, so tight and wet.)” You nod behind Joel’s hand, gripping his wrist when his free hand reaches for your clit, rubbing hurried circles that push you to the edge further, teetering there while his hips hit into you harder and brush your g-spot. Feeling yourself clench around his cock, you move your own hips to meet his thrusts, eyes rolling back as the top of him hits your g-spot square on.

“That’s right, my girl, can feel how close you are. Give it to me, baby, please—“ A vibrating moan interrupts his rambling thoughts when you come, walls gripping around him and fluttering inside. Your own noises are stifled by his palm, body limping in his hold while he rocks his hips as deep as possible and ropes of his come fill you up. “Such a good girl, goddamn…”

Breathless, he holds you up and presses you against the counter as he hunches over your body from behind. Using whatever energy is left in him, Joel peppers your neck and profile in lazy kisses, lingering around your ear.

“Love you, Mari.”

Once you’ve both recovered enough from the quick, hasty fuck, limbs regaining their abilities to move, Joel leads you up to bed and drags you under the covers. The two of you chat about the day and plans for the rest of summer while he lays his head on your chest, eyes closing while you run your fingers through his hair. Index twirls some of the rare ringlets, nails scratching his scalp soothingly.

In a few moments of you talking to him about bringing Sarah to the aquarium, his breaths have leveled out and his lips have parted, a large muscular build curled around you sleeping. It’s a few moments that you steal while continuing to play with his hair, admiring how young and boyish he looks. The perpetually creased brow of his has relaxed, his parted lips giving him the slightest of pouts.

Joel, your strong, independent, capable, protective, caring, loving man, is still a boy at times. When you feel young around him, you know you’ll think back to this moment — when you realized he’s just as much in the ‘figuring how all this shit works out’ stage. Permanently.

The last two or so years have been filled with moments that it seems that you took what Joel had to think or say as written in stone; his confidence and decisiveness was something you were envious of at times. But it also meant that all those times, even if he knew what he was doing, he was still a young boy, a teenager, a man, all the ones in between — figuring it out. Wondering if the choices were right. If it would all work out in the end.

That first summer, when you fell completely in love and let him know before you were leaving for nearly a year. It was genuine, of course, but it was naive. Thinking about long distance, a single father trying to make that work. It probably scared him at the time, and was too much to attempt to work with.

And the next summer, when he had his time to figure out what he was feeling. His confession of love that had your heart in your throat, terrified to admit anything close to the feeling before you were thousands of miles away. The feeling was there, it was always there. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say it back, to open up for the pain you felt the year prior.

His denial of you, yours of him — looking back, you can’t blame Joel for these hiccups, just like you can’t blame yourself. He was only trying to figure it out. It was all new to him, navigating a life with you in it was something he hadn’t had to do before, hadn’t imagined before.

You’re in the exact same state, each and every day. And it made you so afraid to be all in, the uncertainty of life blinding you to actually opening up.

Fingers have paused their movements in his hair, Joel stirring awake against your chest when your touch leaves him completely. His head is tilted to face you, masked in an expression that you can’t quite read. Comfortable, drowsy, affectionate. Half asleep, droopy eyes find your own, holding your gaze as he breaks the quiet and stillness of the bedroom with a gravelly voice.

“Was thinking about you in my sleep just now.”

“Oh yeah? What were you thinking about, baby?”

“How you’re my best friend.” The arm slung around your middle tightens as a goofy smile finds its way to his lips. “D’you know that, Mari?”

Looking at him, in that simple moment, a realization dawned on you as if it was the most obvious discovery.

He’s the only one you want to be figuring it out with.

“I love you, Joel.”

It comes out meeker than you wanted for this first-second time around, almost inaudible if it weren’t for the complete and utter quiet of the early morning hours.

A dreamy but wide grin stretches across his face, waking him up a bit more in the moment. He picks up his head from your chest, sitting up a few inches to look you properly in the eyes as he asks, “Yeah?”

“Mhm, I love you,” you can barely get it out without a happy giggle tagging on the end, barely squeaking the last syllable out before Joel’s skittering kisses all over your face, that same wide grin on his lips.

“Say it again, please, Mari.”

“I love you, J. I’m so in love with you.”

His attack on your face and neck continues, his own chuckles mixing with your giggles, his arm tightening around you and fingers tickling your sides.

“Am I still asleep? Am I dreaming right now?” he questions, pausing his peppered kisses to give you a tender one on your lips, that same goofy grin knocking your teeth together.

Before you respond, or he asks for you to say it again, Joel takes a pause to look into your eyes head on. Silence overcomes the room again, goofy grin morphing into a sweet, softened smile of his. Disbelief painted across his face as he took you in, shaking his head.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Siempre. I love you, Mari. Always.”

“I love you, Joel.”

Holding your eyes for a moment longer, there’s a shift in the air from the giddy confession. Joel inches down, connecting your lips in a ghosting kiss, your lips following his to feel more. After a beat, the kiss heats up, slow and sensual. His hands roam your sides, hiking up the material of your sleep shirt and pressing his palm against your exposed skin.

There’s no break in the embrace, only pushing further to feel each other closer and constant. The slight lack of oxygen, the breathlessness of it all, is making your head airy and dizzy, limbs tingling with electricity when you slip your fingers under the collar of his t-shirt. In the moment, you could drown in the feeling of Joel’s lips against yours.

The only breaths you get are when he separates from your lips to pull your shirt over your head and then follows it with his own, easily sipping your elastic waistbands down your legs again. You kick off the material from your ankles while he strips out of his own shorts and boxers, messy kisses shared while your hands skate over his bare skin. Fingertips work to memorize the dips and peaks, the trail of hair from his belly button down. Joel’s own hands explore your curves, relishing in the softness of your skin.

He pulls away from your mouth, breathless and blown pupils before he rasps out, “I love you so much, Mariposa. Got no clue who I’d be if I didn’t meet you…You’re it for me.”

Your voice is thick with emotion, one hand tangling your fingers with the hair at the back of his head, “I love you, J. It’s only you, s’always been you.”

Joel’s hand lifts one of your legs to bend next to his hip, lining himself at your entrance before he slowly thrusts in, savoring the feeling of you around him, body pressed against his skin in every place possible. Airy moans muffle into and against each other’s lips as he fills you up, the rhythm of his movements languid and steady. The pace is reeling your brain into a building of pleasure, whispers from Joel adding to the euphoric adoration between the two of you.

“My beautiful girl, so perfect. Love everything about you, sweet girl. M’so lucky to have you…Mine forever, right Mari baby? Mi hermosa, mi amor. I love you, fuck, I love you so much, Mari. Always got me feeling like m’floating around you, like I got a butterfly flapping it’s wings in my chest with how giddy you make me feel with just one look. Mi mariposa. My butterfly. Mine…”

The words are absorbing with each shallow breath you take, nodding along to his ramblings and feeling tears well against your waterline. Hands grip hard onto his shoulders, folding yourself around him tighter as you leave lingering kisses along his profile.

“Yours, J, yours always. I love you so fucking much—Oh my god, you’re everything to me, baby.”

“Never letting you go again. My girl, my fucking beautiful girl. Gonna make you mine forever, gonna make you my wife, mi esposa, one day, sweet, perfect girl. You’re made for me, Mari. Mi media naranja. (My other half.)”

His thrusts pick up only slightly, but enough to spill the tears waiting at the brink of your eyes, Joel’s mouth catching each one with featherlight kisses. Sitting right at the edge, your eyes lock with his, vision slightly blurred from the tears continuing to fall. Joel’s features fill the vignette, hooked nose, pillowy lips, soft brown eyes, olive skin sprinkled with crinkles around his eyes, subtle lines at his forehead. Nothing more beautiful to you than those parts making up the whole of him.

“Te amo, te amo, J. I love you, baby…”

His breath catches in his throat, smile spreading as his nose nudges against yours to speak against your lips.

“Te amo, mi Mariposa. Los amo a todos, cada poco. Eres todo lo que podría haber soñado y más (I love all of you, every bit. You're everything I could have ever dreamed of and more). I will spend every day earning your love and giving you all of mine.”

The words you understood have your frayed edges pulled taut, snapping one at a time as your brain floods with pleasure. Your walls flutter around his cock, your leg hooks into his ass to drive him further inside to fill you up. It is only a moment longer before he’s spilling into you, your name falling from his lips over and over as he searches for your lips in his state of ecstasy.

One last heavy kiss is shared before he slumps onto you, similar position to the start of all this; his head on your chest, strong form curled around you and his eyes closed. It last for a moment, your fingers playing with his hair, before he’s pushing himself up to hang over your torso, tender eyes studying your messy hair and blissed out face.

A smile crosses your lips, eyes sparkling even with the lights out in the room and the curtains only cracked apart to let moonlight stream in.

“Gonna make me your wife one day, huh?” you tease as you look up at him from your spot laying back on the mattress, crumpled sheet pulled over top of your naked body.

Joel rolls his eyes playfully, leaning over you and smiling, “As if you didn’t know that from the first time I spoke to you. Knew you were trouble from the start, just turned out to be the best kind of trouble.”

taglist: @beskarandblasters @undrthelights @swiftispunk @joelsversion @asirenbyanyothername @ellenmunn @ja-ehyun @sw33tp1xie @marisemonteiroo @brunetteeras@bongsrconfusing @addictedtotlou @angie2274 @pedrostories @pedroholicx @theelishad @johnwatsn @elissaaa @felicityofbakerstreet @atinylittlepain @northernbluess @cannolighost @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @thereaperisabitch @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic @xyzstar @cumberpegg

[mybiasisexo]

HI! Happy New Year!

Can I request #51 with Chanyeol pls? Wishing you all the best for 2024! Thanks in advance!

Distraction 🏋️‍♂️

Genre: fluff | personal trainer!au Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Length: 2.3k Warnings: Chanyeol is a warning all in himself boy!!!

a/n: I said i was gonna make a gym drabble and baby here it is!!! This isnt really fluff, but its def not angst. What other genres are there??? I could've made this 6k is2g lmao i want the smut 😂. but ayye these are just drabbles! I'll behave. Sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for the request 😚 this gif of him alwaaaays makes me crazy like if i stare at it for too long ill scream. no im not ok thanks for asking

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

Dread filled you as you gazed at the building looming in front of you. Your worst enemy—the gym.

You despised the place for two reasons. The first was simple, it was a gym, pretty self-explanatory. The second reason was your personal trainer, Park Chanyeol.

You swore from the moment he was assigned to you he made it his mission to make you never come back. He had to have a torture kink or something, with the stuff he had you doing. You’ve pushed yourself to the point of puking a few times under his care, and still he would make you keep going.

And sure, you were seeing results. And, yeah, it was getting easier. You felt yourself growing stronger with every session. He was good at what he did, even if his practices had you questioning the legality of it all.

With a withering sigh, you got out of your car and made your way to what was your personal hell.

You spotted Chanyeol as soon as you entered. He was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, legs spread apart, looking rather unimpressed as he hovered over a guy struggling to do pushups.

You tried not to stare too long at those exposed arms, the massive muscles bulging over his just as firm chest. He always wore the same thing: black basketball shorts with a black muscle shirt that left little to the imagination of how much time he spent at the gym. You’d only ever seen him work out once yourself and…. You refused to let your thoughts wander to that moment.

As if he could hear where your mind was attempting to go, his eyes flickered up to where you were scanning in your membership badge. A wolfy grin split his face as he took you in, the heat of his gaze made you shiver.

He only acknowledged you for a second. It took you a beat too long to realize he was counting his client’s reps. Ignoring him, you headed over to a secluded corner and started your warm up stretches. Chanyeol helped the poor dude up, that strength of his coming in clutch when his client’s knees buckled and he almost hit the floor.

You winced, knowing that pain. Luckily, this gym had darkly painted walls and dim lighting to give its customers a sense of privacy. It helped that it was later in the night, nearing eleven, so there wasn’t many people present to watch him struggle. As well as yourself. That was why you preferred coming late. Less people, less judgement, and it wore you out enough that you could go straight to bed as soon as you got home—after a post workout meal, if Chanyeol were to ask.

He clapped the scraggly man on his back, making him cough, and gave some uplifting words as they slowly made their way to the front door. You were just finishing your stretches when thick bowlegs were in front of you. You were sitting on the floor, so you had to look up, up, up that firm trunk of a frame to meet those round eyes of his alight with humor.

“You actually showed up today?” Chanyeol asked, tilting his head curiously. His shaggy hair fell into his stare.

You glared at him as you climbed to your feet. “Well, I figured you haven’t killed me yet.”

“Yet.” His grin was a warning. He nudged his head to the rather empty machines. “Come on. It’s leg day.”

You let out a relieved breath. It was torture for sure, but leg day was your favorite. He led you to a machine and you got to work.

You tried to focus on the tasks given to you. To focus on your posture, your breathing, on keeping your core tight. But, it was rather difficult when something, or rather someone, was far more distracting.

That was another thing about Chanyeol that you despised. When you first found out he was going to be your trainer, your immediate thought was ‘hell no’. You were hesitant to have a male trainer to begin with, but this one? He was fine as all hell. Too fine. And with that smirk he gave you when you first refused his help—the one he still gave you, mind you—you knew he was going to be a problem.

Matters were only made worse when you actually trained with him. During your sessions, he was nothing but professional. His goal was to help you through your workouts and he did. His large hands would skim over your body as he fixed your posture, or added pressure against your legs so that you knew where to put your weight. His voice was deep and he would use it to encourage and praise you. There was never any teasing or animosity while you trained. His voice would sink into your brain, scramble your thoughts and leave your body boiling. Especially when he’d hit you with a ‘good girl’ or ‘just like that. Perfect’.

He had to know what he was doing.

It was near the end of your session, you had one last work out to do.

“Save the best for last,” Chanyeol said as he took you to a bizarre looking machine.

“And what the hell is this thing?” You asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“It’s called a hip abductor,” he explained to you like he thought you were dumb.

You ignored his tone. “How’re you supposed to use it?”

“Sit on it and I’ll show you.”

You brushed off the innuendo, and prayed he didn’t catch the heat on your face. Instead, you bumped the machine with your shoe, warily taking it in. You were exhausted, and didn’t want to do another set of nothing.

“Why don’t you demonstrate for me?” You suggested.

Chanyeol lifted an eyebrow and you shrugged in response. “What? I’ve never seen you work out before. How do I know you’re qualified to train me?”

He barked a laugh at that, knowing you’re bullshitting now. “I imagine your glutes are enough proof of my teaching abilities.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And why are you looking at my glutes?”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Just making sure I’m doing my job.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and hummed, unable to think of a good comeback. Instead, you nudged your chin towards this ‘hip abductor’.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said. Despite his words, he didn’t call you out. You watched as he plopped onto the machine with a sigh. You couldn’t help but grin victoriously, eager to see the man at work.

He adjusted the weight, settled into the seat, and then pushed his thighs against the pads, spreading his legs out wide before bringing them back in. He began explaining what he was doing, what muscles he was working, and the proper way to move, but you could barely hear a word over the way his thick thighs flexed, the muscle underneath stretching the skin.

You realized then that your roles were reversed, and a brilliant idea popped into your head. He was always teasing you during your sessions, and now was your turn to have some fun and return the favor.

You took a couple steps closer to him, studying him more, like you were invested in getting everything right. Then you ran your fingers down his arm and he faltered for a second.

“Am I supposed to hold on to the seat like that?”

You didn’t miss the way his grip tightened, his knuckles whitening.

“Yeah,” he said between clenched teeth.

He pushed his legs out again, and you’re quick to fill the new space, forcing him to keep them open.

Your name left his mouth in a warning. That only made your grin grow wider.

He glared up at you. “What are you doing?”

“Testing to see how long you can hold this position.”

He said your name again, but you interrupted him before he could finish. “You always push me. Why don’t I test your limits for once?”

Something ignited in his eyes and the lights ahead shown in them hauntingly. “Who says you don’t already do?”

“What?” You asked, startled by how gently the words left his full lips.

He didn’t repeat himself, but he appeared to give into your challenge. He sunk more into his seat, eyes never left yours as he held the position, too competitive for his own good. Though it worked in your favor.

You’re not sure how much time passed, but it felt like hours of you standing between his legs, both never looking away from the other.

Finally, you decided it was time to up the ante. Sweat had started to gather on his forehead and neck, but most importantly, a slight tremor had started in his legs.

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a fake pout. “Can’t hold it anymore?”

“I’m chilling,” he replied back, but you heard the strain in his voice.

“Is that so?” You grinned again and rested the palm of your hands above his knees on either side of you. “You’re shaking.”

You took your time scaling his body before meeting his eyes again. He was holding his breath, but something in his expression was begging you to continue.

So, you did.

Slowly, you dragged your hands further up his legs, remembering all the times he had done the same. Although he was always professional about it. He only touched you when he had to. There was nothing professional about your touch. All the sexual frustration you’ve felt because of this man had seemed to bubble over and took control of your limbs. In this moment, you wanted him to understand what he did to you, wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

His eyes fluttered as you dragged his shorts up with your wrists, wanting to feel his warm skin.

You quickly glanced around the gym, noticing you were the only ones left, and that made you even more bold. Nearly at his hips, you went to move your hands to his crotch.

Chanyeol was fast. Before you knew what happened, he had snatched your wrists with one hand, putting a halt to your little game and causing you to gasp in surprise.

Your ministrations had you bent over him, so your faces were only an inch or two apart. He leaned forward, brushing his nose against yours, the hair on his forehead tickled your own.

“You’re playing with fire here,” he warned, voice a steady grumble against your lips. When he pulled back to take in your expression, you saw the burning inferno ready to wreak havoc in his gaze. You knew that if he were to let go of those flames, it would burn away all pretenses, all politeness, and rules.

And you wanted that. You wanted his fire to consume you, wanted his desire to engulf and burn and hurt.

There was a pause as you both study each other, waiting to see who would break first. You found your arms shaking in his grip, not with the usual soreness you’d usually be shaking with at this time of your appointment. It was adrenaline, your own desire raised to meet his.

Of course, he felt it too. “How long have you wanted me, Sweetheart?”  He sounded deceitfully sweet, and it made your sore legs weak. He gathered that much, so he gathered you. Large hands went to your waist, easily lifting you up so that you were now straddling him. With you on his lap, he could finally close his legs, and he did so with a relieved huff. A mocking laugh left your mouth, but he put an end to it by pushing you down so that you were seated fully on him—right on his bulge.

“Oh!” You startled. You blinked up at him innocently before throwing back at him, “how long have you wanted me?”

He hummed thoughtfully, running his hands up your thighs to hold your hips. He pressed his lips to your ear, “from the moment I first saw you.”

You shivered at both his confession and his warm breath on your skin. It took everything in you not to roll your hips into him, the pressure of him just as much a tease as his expression and words and touch.

“That being said,” he started, and you already knew you weren’t going to like what he was about to say. “You have a workout to finish.”

“I can think of a few alternatives that are just as effective,” you said, giving into the temptation to gently grind against him.

He bit his lip, holding back a moan as he forced you to stop with his hands on your hips. His attention fell to your chest hovering in front of his face. “You’re not getting out of this one. Nice try though.”

You groaned and straightened, slumping dejectedly. He chuckled before wrapping an arm around your waist, standing abruptly. You squealed, holding onto him as he turned around to sit you down onto the seat of the machine.

“Chanyeol,” you whined.

“Hey, I let you stall, didn’t I?”

“I mean yeah, but we were in the middle of something.”

“I tell you what. Finish this set and I’ll reward you.”

“Reward me how?” You questioned skeptically. His idea of a reward usually benefited him more than you.

As an answer, he stuck out his tongue, wagging it quickly at you. Your eyes widened in shock, scandalized. But the burning in your abdomen and the way your legs pressed together was a dead giveaway to how enticing a reward that was.

“Fine,” you grumbled, adjusting the weight and starting doing your reps.

Chanyeol’s loud laugh echoed throughout the building at your eagerness.

“If I knew that was all the encouragement you needed, I would’ve incorporated it sooner.”

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“Make me.” He smirked.

“Oh, I will be as soon as I get that reward you promised.”

When you left the gym some time later, you couldn’t help but to think maybe your trainer wasn’t that bad afterall.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟒 (𝟏/𝟐)   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   THE DEN, AUGUST 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

   ❛  Leonor relished the daytime emptiness of The Den almost as much as the bustling nights she spent within it. Unlike most of Nakawe’s bars, it didn’t open until the sun went down, and it didn’t close as long as someone with the keys was willing to stick around. The first time Renzo asked her to stop by in the middle of the day, Leonor expected to find the place occupied but robbed of its liveliness. If not catering to the needs of drunks, daytime bars in her imagination were for desperate lunchtime breaks and closing business deals, neither of which Renzo’s private hideaway seemed to welcome. She was surprised to find him lingering on the sidewalk, waiting for her with a cigarette in one hand and a set of keys in the other. He pushed the door open and revealed The Den as she had yet to imagine it: empty, silent, still. 

❧ goes without saying but, if you're not reading the prose, you're missing half the story !!! part two soon ... (i am also proud bc i made many poses, pls clap)

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Renzo laughed at her, breaking the quiet. “One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” he said, mimicking a voice in perfectly unaccented Simerican that Leonor didn’t recognize. She had been standing, unmoving, while she soaked in the surreality. 

He was going behind the bar, hitting lights as he went, but knew to clarify, “You look like you’re in outer space. New planet. New dimension.” 

That was, in a way, how it felt. The soundproofing was impeccable. She couldn’t hear the boulevard just outside the door. Renzo began messing with bottles and humming to himself, but the few seconds after the door had shut were enough to make an impression. She liked being there during the day. She liked this version of the place, one that looked like a true escape from the world, where she could feel the residual good vibes of the previous night with the perfect clarity of a new day. She liked fanning her work out across the bar or on a couch. She liked pretending to be occupied with it while Renzo sat on the stage with a pencil behind his ear or colored block letters on handmade posters or laid, completely unmoving, on the dirty floor. Sometimes he worked, too. Leonor liked those instances best, and she allowed herself to be distracted by his miming of scenes and murmuring dialogue and tuning guitars across the room. 

“Why is no one else here?” she asked him one day, once this had become something of a once-a-week routine. 

They were curled up together like cats but were each engrossed in their own work. Renzo was reading a script, muttering words silently to himself. Leonor had a stack of policy briefs and a red pen. He took the pen from her after she spoke and began scribbling it against the flesh of her palm, gentle at first but then hard enough to draw out the ink in streaked lines.  

“You keep coming,” he said, enunciating each word. On her palm’s heel, he drew the glyph of his name. It was faint, so he traced and retraced the details. “I keep asking.” Then, looking up, he posed his own question. “Who else do you want here?” 

She shrugged, and he nodded. 

“If you’re worried this means something,” Here, he paused and angled the pen with purpose, tilting one end toward himself before pointing it toward her. “It doesn’t.” 

Renzo continued, sitting up, “Besides, I don’t wanna be around everyone all the time.” He said it as if the mere thought was an affront unable to be stomached. “God. Some of the people who come in here sometimes? Fuck.” 

“Why do you let them?”

Renzo reacted as if it were a question he had never pondered, and Leonor quirked an eyebrow as he sat there considering it. How foolish, she thought, if he hadn’t. She decided it was possible he was a fool, but she also decided that she should wait for his answer to really know—and, even if he was, that she would probably think it was endearing. He was the kind of famous that meant he had to be talented, not wise. Although he preferred providing a stage on which others might perform, she had seen enough to know he had talent. He made use of it. She already knew, too, that he wasn’t wise. She’d seen that when he’d said rude things to cameramen outside the bar or, on a different night, when he’d shoved another so hard he dropped his camera. That was inadvisable. It was even more inadvisable than Leonor having been there, at his side, walking slow to avoid stumbling, when it happened. At the time, she laughed. She could practically hear herself in the memory, giggling while a scuffle threatened to break out. 

Enough time passed for her to wince at the recollection before Renzo spoke. When he did, it was definitive. “I’m cool,” he explained. “I’m a cool guy. I have to be cool. You can’t be yourself if you aren’t cool, you know?”

She did know. That was one of the key distinctions between royalty and celebrity. 

Renzo elaborated further, “I start policing the door, that’s not cool. People make it into a problem. It’s just not the kind of problem you can have—not with people who are, as it were, your peers.” He sneered that word, and Leonor could picture who he meant. If she had come through that door with Kore during any other year of her life, she would have been one of them. “The more famous you are, the more you’re in rooms with fucking assholes. It’s just,” He rolled his eyes. “Sometimes the assholes want to come into your room.” 

He gestured around with a grand flourish, and Leonor snickered. “Gotta let ‘em,” he sighed. 

She nodded, quipping, “You let me.” Immediately, she regretted voicing the thought, but Renzo found it amusing. 

“Not the same,” he responded, shaking his head.

With some success, she played an earnest question off as a tease. “Why not?” 

He shrugged, “You’re not a problem, Leonor. Nice girl, that’s what everyone said. I was, uh, excited you were here.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, adding, “Squeaky clean and incorruptible—they said that, too. Excitement, anticipation, same thing.” 

“Sure, okay,” Leonor chuckled. “I’m a real good-time girl now, aren’t I?” 

Renzo regarded her thoughtfully, and Leonor resisted the urge to squirm away. Their conversations always teetered on the edge of confessional, whether because Renzo spoke with such bluntness or because his openness encouraged her to respond in kind. Leonor never allowed herself to speak so freely as to admit everything, but she made honest admissions that Renzo accepted without judgment. He wasn’t wise, but he had, in some ways, lived more lives than she had. Usually, he just knew what to say. She took that as solid in some essential way, as a support to lean against. 

“You’re happier that way,” was his ultimate reply. 

Leonor sat with that thesis for a moment, debating whether it was true—or, for that matter, if the veracity of it mattered at all. She wanted it to be true. That had to be enough and, in that moment, it was. 

Now it was August. Months had passed since that conversation, but Leonor still felt the same way. She felt the same way, too, about the quiet of The Den on a weekday afternoon, which is how she found it now. She let herself in through the unlocked front door, knowing she would find Renzo somewhere inside. There were big plans looming. He might be stringing lights, or testing microphones, or standing with his legs wide apart and a hand pensively cupping his chin. On the phone earlier, he had sounded busy. He was instead at the bar, hunched over with a pen in his hand. Whatever he was working on demanded great concentration. Leonor allowed the big, heavy door to close slowly and gave herself a few extra moments. Partly, she wanted to delay the conversation. Another reason was to observe him. If he’d heard her enter, which she doubted, he made no indication. Through the dim lighting, she could see him chewing his lip. He tapped his fingers in a simple rhythm against his thigh.

“Writing?” she called, emerging from the shadowy entryway. The last sliver of sunlight disappeared as the door finally closed, hard but muffled, behind her.

Renzo didn’t look up as he replied, “Wrote. Done now.” 

“Is it for the reading tonight?”

“Did you write anything?”

Leonor wasn’t feeling light enough to laugh, so she made an approximate noise instead. “Why would you ask that?” 

Now, he eyed her with a look of provocation. “You’re an artist, Nora,” he said. “Everyone has their medium, sure—I’ve seen yours, very nice—but I think you should take the written word more seriously. It doesn’t have to be an endpoint, really. Maybe a translation.”

At this bit of persuasion, Leonor scoffed. “I can be creative; I am not an artist. Besides,” She paused, settling in on a stool beside him. “Everything for everyone is not the kind of world I want to live in.”

Renzo scoffed now, but he was smirking as he said, “Well, fuck, if that isn’t the most hereditary monarchist thing I’ve ever heard. Alright, my princess, if you say so.”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” she protested, but he waved her off. 

Solemn, he admitted, “It’s true. I’m jobless in that world.” Renzo held up his paper and inspected it. “Can’t host private poetry readings with free booze for my friends if I’m as poor as I was in ‘87, that’s for sure.” 

“Wouldn’t know me,” she said, lowering her head. It was meant as a gesture of mock sadness but, in this moment, she did find the notion disquieting. 

“You don’t know any poor people?”

Leonor’s rueful smile faltered as she considered that. “I don’t think so?”

Instead of laughing, Renzo looked at her with an expression that was neither quite amused nor fully bemused. She waited for a joke that never came. Instead, he turned back to looking at his paper. Tension mounted within while he sat there looking focused once more but otherwise relaxed. Finally, as if remembering they were in the middle of a conversation, he said simply, “I’m glad I know you, yeah.”

Leonor shifted on her stool. It was a motion of discomfort, something she could do while she thought of something else to say. In the process, she caught a good look at the words on the page. Her lips parted to pose the question—‘Will you read it to me?’—but she stopped herself. Renzo had gotten caught up in this occupation, it seemed. He must have forgotten why she called. She had half-expected him to be waiting, face toward the door, for her arrival. Usually, he was curious when she indicated she had something to share, not nosy or greedy for insight but possessed with sincere interest. He was a listener. He enjoyed it as much as whatever conversation ensued. Once, she decided to imitate his way of jabbing people with questions—incisive and direct, not pointed. His questions flowed without pretense. They were bare inquiries, genuine as his interest. Her question was just so: did he think himself trustworthy—did he want to be a confidante? 

His answer surprised her, and she had felt a kind of awe as he’d replied, ‘Honestly, no, that would be a bad idea. I know myself, so I don’t stop others from knowing me. User beware.’

Now, she leaned against the bar and heaved a sigh. Renzo looked over at her and let the paper slide unceremoniously back onto the surface. 

“What is it?”

Leonor snapped back to earlier that day. No longer sitting on a barstool beside Renzo, she found herself at a table that abruptly felt too small. Her father sat across from her, his hands folded on top, the thick band of his favorite watch visible under his sleeve’s cuff. It matched his wedding band. It was almost afternoon, and he arrived late to the early lunch he had requested of her. For twenty minutes, she sat at the table with her bare arm pressed against the warm glass window. She could have left at any point. It wouldn’t have been rude; better still, she could have imagined no reason to regret it. Yet, she didn’t. She sat and waited, staring out of the window or across the restaurant’s bustling dining area with an expression so forlorn that it compelled the server to stop by for a check-in several more times than was necessary. Each time, Leonor glanced up at her with a forced smile. ‘No, thank you,’ she would say. ‘It’s fine. I’m waiting.’

“Do you remember, I told you I was meeting with my father today?”

Renzo thought for a moment, then nodded. “Right, yeah, breakfast.”

“Lunch,” she corrected, before laying her head on the bar. It was cool, if sticky, and the embrace of her forearms easily blacked out the low light. “It went awfully.” 

“You said it was going to be weird,” Renzo responded. “Did he tell you what you wanted to hear—I mean, what he said he needed to talk about, was it worth it?”

Leonor closed her eyes. For a moment, she wished she could just drift off into a deep, unbreakable slumber, right then and there. She imagined herself slumped over on the bar as evening began, a curiosity rudely ignoring the raw, vulnerable poetry that a string of performers offered. Someone would try to shake her awake when the night’s end came. ‘Leave her,’ Renzo would say. ‘She’ll be okay here.’ And, she would be. Night after night, day after day, she would rest there. She would become more than just a fixture—she would be a unique decoration, a conversation-starter, really and truly part of the bar’s collection of interesting things. Becoming a thing wouldn’t be so bad. People would tell stories about her even after she had rotted away and crumbled to dust. ‘A sleeping princess sat here,’ they would say. ‘Her prince never came along, I guess.’

That didn’t happen, and Leonor lifted her head. “It was kind of hard to follow, honestly,” she said. “He was late, and he kept trying to rehash—well, he wanted to tell me about it again, you know, what happened?” Leonor sighed. “I wanted to cry. It was so embarrassing. It wasn’t even new information.”

“None of it?” Renzo asked. He had angled himself toward her, leaning against the bar while he gazed at her perturbed face.

Leonor, feeling pitiful, shrugged. “I didn’t really want to listen,” she admitted. “I kept thinking about Mother Beatriz the whole time.” 

Renzo’s heavy-lidded eyes ordinarily conveyed one of two sharply contrasting states. At times, he looked bored out of his mind—entirely removed from whatever was happening, on another planet even when his pupils weren’t giving away a convenient reason why. He had an almost unsettling kind of attentiveness other times. When they first met, Leonor found the way he had looked at her from beneath long, dark eyelashes alluring. She felt looked upon or looked through most of the time; with his heady stare, Renzo looked at her. She hadn’t fully appreciated the distinction until their regular conversations. Now, as she waited for him to respond to her admission, she appreciated it more. 

Finally, Renzo posed another question. “Do you think he was responsible?”

TRANSCRIPT:

LEONOR | Writing? RENZO | Wrote. Done now.

LEONOR | Is it for the reading tonight? RENZO | Did you write anything? LEONOR | Why would you ask that?

RENZO | You're an artist, Nora. Everyone has their medium, sure—I've seen yours, very nice—but I think you shoudl take the written word more seriously. It doesnt' have to be an endpoint, really. Maybe a translation.

LEONOR | I can be creative; I am not an artist.

LEONOR | Besides, everything for everyone is not the kind of world I want to live in. RENZO | Well, fuck, if that isn't the most hereditary monarchist thing I've ever heard. Alright, my princess, if you say so.

LEONOR | I didn't mean it that way. RENZO | It's true. I'm jobless in that world.

RENZO | Can't host private poetry readings with free booze for my friends if I'm as poor as I was in '87, that's for sure. LEONOR | Wouldn't know me … RENZO | You don't know any poor people?

LEONOR | I don't think so?

RENZO | I'm glad I know you, yeah.

[Leonor sighs] RENZO | What is it?

LEONOR | Do you remember, I told you I was meeting with my father today?

RENZO | Right, yeah, breakfast. LEONOR | Lunch. It went awfully. RENZO | You said it was going to be weird. Did he tell you what you wanted to hear—I mean, what he said he needed to talk about, was it worth it?

LEONOR | It was kind of hard to follow, honestly. He was late, and he kept trying to rehash—well, he wanted to tell me about it again, you know, what happened [sighs] I wanted to cry. It was so embarrassing. It wasn't even new information.

RENZO | None of it? LEONOR | I didn't really want to listen. I kept thinking about Mother Beatriz the whole time. RENZO | Do you think he was responsible?

[sugar-omi]

werewolf Derek in heat with a breeding kink. That's it. Go wild with this.

didn't expect it but ty because this is the first post for kinktober LMAO but pls the way this sent a rush thru me... i'm going crazy

DAY ONE — BREEDING

*kinktober masterlist | *ao3

tags : NSFW, fem/afab readers, mindbreak, creampie, scratching, biting, overstimulation, knotting

synopsis : werewolf!derek is in rut. you help him through it, even if it leaves you sore, but especially if it means he'll stuff you with his cum and breed you.

you're so dazed.

he's been fucking you for hours, thrusting his fat dick into your poor, abused hole. you whine loudly, drool slipping from your open lips.

derek licks it up, growling into your shoulder.

you shake, overwhelmed with pleasure. you can't even think, the only thing on your mind is derek and pleasure.

his grip on your hips tighten, his claws digging into the fat of your hips and your hiss at the pain, blood pooling to the surface.

he's going to bandage it up later, as he will with many of the other scratches and bites he's left on your poor body already.

"so warm..." derek huffs, the movement of him shifting his knees to fuck you deeper makes a loud moan rip from your throat.

all you can hear is the dull clapping of his hips meeting your ass, fucking you deeply. his tip is bruising your cervix, leaving your insides aching and it should hurt but it feels so good.

you've become a slave to the pleasure, letting yourself drown in derek's arm and let your mind focus on nothing but opening yourself up to take his dick and help him through rut.

after this though... you'll definitely be different after this. usually derek makes love to you, gentle and caring and so sweet. but his rut has turned him into an animal in bed and you love it more than you should.

derek's hips stutter, finishing inside you for the nth time that night. your loud whine mixes with his growl, derek's sharp eyes focused on how the cum leaks from around his dick.

you pant, shaking on your elbows and drop your head.

but you don't have long to bask in the afterglow or catch your breath, derek easily manhandles you so that you're on your back and he pushes back into your spent puffy hole.

you yell, not even having time to think about your sensitivity before he's back to fucking you with abandon.

he leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue in your mouth. his fangs catch on your lips but you ignore it, basking in every bit of pain and pleasure. it all feels good and it just brings you higher.

"sorry... almost done. promise..." derek mumbles against your lips, but his hands are pushing your hips down so he can fuck into you with quick thrusts, the bed sliding and bumping against the wall from the power of his thrusts.

you pant, dragging your nails down his back. you don't have the energy to call him out, you don't even have half the brain to at this point.

"i-i'm.. i'm gonna knot!" derek grunts into your ear, leaning over you and your legs are forced up to your shoulders from his body on top of you, easily slamming his dick into your weeping insides since he's practically on top of you.

you gather your remaining sense and beg, "knot me! please, please, please-"

you're turning into a mess, babbling and begging to be knotted.

derek has the nerve to try to use sense, "are you sure? i-" you snap, ignoring him. "you've came in me already! fucking knot me, you dumb dog!"

you've bitten off more than you can chew with those words, derek accepting your pleads and he starts kissing and nipping your neck as his knot starts to grow, catching on your hole and the tugging makes you whine.

you don't even realize you're crying until derek licks and kisses it away.

you lock your legs around derek's back, forcing him to go deeper.

he growls, the sound reverberating through you and you tangle your hands in his scruff, pulling him back from your neck. "knot me, 'wanna.. wanna have your pups."

derek groans, trying not to bite through your shoulder that he was marking before you forced his hand.

your vision shakes, your hands tugging on derek's hair, catching the fur of his ears and you can feel his voice rumble against your shoulder, a threatening sound to anyone else but a clear sign of pleasure to you.

the stretch burns, you've never been knotted before but after this you can't see this being the last time.

he can't move like this and you can't decide if that's a blessing or a curse, his fat tip pushing against your abused cervix and your stomach swells a bit now that his cum as no where to go.

you both moan loudly, you clinging onto derek as he cums inside you again.

he pants, his weight pushing down on you and you weakly slap his shoulders to get him off you.

derek kisses your cheek, as if to apologize for such an assault on your poor cunt. he mumbles something you don't really catch, probably something about moving you since he moves your limp body so you're on top of him.

you blink, still dazed and letting him do as he pleases. but you finally look down to see where you're connected and you can't help the moan that falls from your throat.

"derek..." you mumble, bringing your hand to your abdomen, taking in your swollen stomach and how full you fill..

you barely register derek mumbling apologies, you're so lost in thinking about how good it feels to be stuffed with his dick and cum.

"it should go down soo-"

you look at him with a loopy smile, "can't wait to have your puppies..."

derek's jaw tightens, his hands fisting the already ruined sheets. he's silent but the look in your eyes hypnotize him, "you're gonna be so pretty taking care of my pups..."

you're in for a long week.

[covenofwives]

The Counting Game

DreamXD and Dream are enjoying their new life in the Overworld, though it takes time to adjust to certain things. During a thunderstorm, Dream is scared of the loud noise so DreamXD keeps him distracted.

Hello. Surprise. Just a quick fic to post. This was finished in under a week but it was just a quick vent/comfort thing to write for myself. I adore settings where there's a thunderstorm and the characters are cosy. It's just so nice.

Also a little bonus story of Dream and XD in their early days in the Overworld. I'd say Dream is about 10 years old in this fic.

Pls Enjoy

---

The transition to the Overworld had been pretty seamless, all things considered. DreamXD's worry for Dream adapting was quickly eased. His little brother absolutely loved the realm. He was fascinated by all the colours, and ran after every sheep, pig and rabbit; which was a nightmare for XD in the first couple days.

Before he’d left the End, XD had gone to the Kept Library and taken every book he could to learn about the Overworld. He knew it was a different world but he never realised just how different. There was no cold surface of endstone, but instead there was soft grass. XD knew this but he was shocked to see how many different shades of grass there were. He read all about the different flowers but the colours of them all were more breathtaking in real life than just an illustration in a picture. The close, stillness of the End was nearly forgotten on the first night. The warm air and cool night breeze was too pleasant.

Dream was not just okay with the move, but he was excited to learn. His days were spent running around the meadow biome and at night he was curled up in XD’s arms, reading some new book about the Overworld.

Today a sudden rain storm had struck, so Dream’s exploration had ended early and he came home drenched. After a quick dry off and given extra blankets, he fell asleep faster than usual as XD was reading him a book about the ocean monuments. Assured he was safe to go, XD carefully shuffled himself free and retreated to his own room.

XD never needed to sleep but he had made his own room in their house regardless. When they first came to the Overworld the siblings had travelled mostly until XD saw it was straining for Dream. They settled up in a birch forest until Dream wanted to travel again. So the routine became travelling, setting up for a few months and then travelling again.

For now they were set up on a mountain meadow. With XD slowly getting used to the Overworld blocks he set up a cosy house for them. XD’s room was modestly small, just enough for his bed. He had a book open on the villages of the Overworld, learning the different cultures and clans of each biome village. XD knew it would be important for Dream to make friends his own age but anxiety prickled his thoughts. It had been so long since XD spoke with mortals, and he needed to learn their cultures if Dream was to have a chance.

A flash of white filled the room and then there was a clap of thunder. XD gave a look outside to make sure nothing caught fire, and lamented a thunder storm was to be expected from the rain today. He was about to turn a page when his ears flickered to the sound of scuffling.

“XD!" Dream screamed as he burst into the room.

The relaxing atmosphere was instantly gone as XD shot up in his bed. “What is it?!” He opened his arms as Dream jumped up into the bed. A thousand terrible thoughts ran through his head as Dream scrambled into his arms. "What happened?!”

"A-a-a noise! Th-there was a loud noise!" Dream cried out. His eyes were wet with fresh tears. "Something c-crashed!"

"Crashed?" XD tilted his head. Relieved but still cautious he cupped Dream’s cheeks and wiped the tears from his cheeks. “What… Oh! Do you mean the thunder?"

As though given an example there was another crash of thunder, bathing the room in white again and Dream screamed. He buried himself into XD’s side.

“Shhh, it's alright, it's okay Dream." XD soothed their brother. "It's just thunder. We learned about this, remember!”

Dream shook his head into XD's side. While petting Dreams curls, XD waved their hand and materialised another book. They flicked it open at the right page and lowered it to Dream still in their side.

"See? Remember the book about the weather?” XD coaxed. Dream pulled his head from the safety of his brothers side. His green eyes were still wet with tears, and he sniffled as he tried to read.

"See? It's a thunderstorm." As XD's lower set of arms held Dream, he used his upper hands to hold the book steady and trace a finger along the words. “Thunderstorms occur in a type of cloud known as cumulonimbus. They are accompanied by strong winds and often produce heavy rain. They are characterized by the presence of lightning and it’s acoustic effect on the Earth’s atmosphere, known as thunder.”

Dream sniffled as he peeked out of XD’s side. His shaky breaths calming as he pulled himself out. XD smiled to his brother. One thing XD realised early on was a combat of Dream’s fear was knowledge. If he was scared or anxious, XD took him to the library where he’d lose himself in books; fiction or not.

Now it seemed to be working the same way. Dream was carefully reading the book and wiping his eyes clear until another sound of thunder boomed through the house and he retreated back to safety. He only squeaked this time instead of screaming, so it was some progress.

“Come on, Dream. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” XD hushed. “It’s just thunder.”

“I-It’s loud…” Dream sniffled.

XD couldn’t argue there. They closed the book and waved it off to disappear again. Of course it was different learning about something than actually experiencing it. “It won’t be here for long.” XD assured him and brought up the covers to Dream’s shoulder. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”

Dream nodded frantically into XD’s side, peeking out just slightly to ask. “Can-Can I have your cloak?”

XD’s heart warmed and of course he agreed. He waved one of his hands not wrapped around Dream and summoned his long green cloak. It worked well as a blanket, especially for young Dream and it became a comfort to him. Even with the fear of another thunder strike, Dream pulled himself back and reached for the cloak, making grabby hands at it before XD wrapped it around him.

The cloak was far too big for Dream and absolutely engulfed him, but he smiled for the first time since the storm started and cosied into the warm green fabric. He nuzzled himself back into XD’s side, not catching the slight twitch his older brother made. XD had to to hold himself back from giggling, but as the tickling feeling faded, it sparked an idea in XD’s head. A distraction.

“Dream.” XD started innocently. “Do you want to play a game to pass the time? Just until the storm is gone.”

Dream peeked out of the safety of his blanket and looked at XD with wet but curious eyes. “A-A game…?”

XD nodded. “The counting game.” He grinned.

Dream’s eyes lit up with a delighted sparkle and broke out into nervous giggles. “Y-Yehesss…”

XD’s grin widened as he moved himself to sit up. Dream sat up too, though still keeping the cloak wrapped around himself.

The counting game had served well in the past to tire Dream out and put him to sleep. XD figured it would work just as well to keep him distracted until the storm past.

“How many eyes do you have?”

“Two!” Dream squeaked and happily giggled as XD tapped over both his eyelids as he counted.

“One… Two! Correct!” XD praised. “How many noses do you have?”

“J-Juhust one!” Dream giggled when XD booped at his nose.

“So smart you are.” XD cooed. “So how many arms do you have?”

Instead of answering, Dream fell into sweet giggles, and wrapped the cloak tighter around himself.

“That’s not an answer.” XD grinned. “How many arms do you have?”

“T-Two…”

“Show me them.”

Dream squeaked and bundled himself up, as through trying to sink into the cloak blanket.

“I need to count them, Dream…” XD tried to keep his voice serious, but he was smiling too wide to seem actually serious. “Show me your arms.”

The young Dream giggled again but he slowly unwrapped his arms. He carefully brought them out, not really stretching them but enough to show them off. “S-See? Two.”

“Two!” XD agreed and before Dream could pull his arms away, XD stuck his hands into Dream’s armpits and scribbled his fingers in.

Dream squealed, immediately trying to kick away as he pleaded through his high high pitched laughter. XD pulled his hands back, not wanting to overwhelm the little one so soon. “Good job! Two perfect arms.”

XD could see Dream wanted to huff, but his cheeks were red and he smiled so wide. He was too happy to complain.

“Now. How many hands do you have?” XD asked.

Dream answered, showing off his hands and giggling when XD poked them with his claw. He answered ten for his fingers and giggled again as the God slowly counted them out.

“So smart. So smart.” XD praised. “How many legs do you have?”

“T-Twoho…” Dream had the cloak fallen around himself instead of wrapped. He kicked his legs forward just a little bit as though showing them off.

“Good. And how many knees do you have?”

Dream’s head tilted, as it wasn’t usually a question XD asked. “T-Two?”

“You’re right!” XD clamped his hands just above Dream’s knees and squeezed. His other hands held around Dream’s ankles, keeping his legs straight when he inevitably tried to kick them. Dream’s laughter came out in a surprised yelp. He threw his head back into a high pitched squeal and tried to bat XD’s hands away. It of course did no good but XD was merciful and let his hands be pried away.

“Y-Yohou’ve never cohounted my kneeees before…” Dream panted out.

“Well I should. I have to make sure all is right with them.” XD reasoned, though of course it was a lie. The truth was they and Dream recently just found out Dream’s knees were tickly and they wanted to test it out. “Now… How many ribs do you have?”

The squeal Dream made did very little to deter XD from tickling him. In fact it made him want to tickle him more. His little brother fell back from the knee tickling and was now wrapping his arms tightly around himself. “No!” He squeaked out.

“No? Do you not know?!” XD put on an overly dramatic voice and they gasped. “Well we have to find out!”

Before Dream could run, or plead. His hands were easily unwrapped from him and XD’s extra set of arms swooped in. They started at the top, latching on and kneading into the top two ribs.

“Two… Foooour.”

“EHEHEX DEHEHEHE!” Dream laughed as he shook his head side to side. He made weak little kicks into XD’s chest which did not hurt or deter the God at all.

There was another clash of thunder which faltered XD’s tickling a little. It was further away and the room never flashed, but XD waited almost expectedly for Dream to realise. But it seems in the tickling Dream hadn’t heard it. He still laughed over the tickling over his ribs, and screamed with laughter when XD’s fingers kneaded in again.

“I have to count and make sure they’re all there, Dream. Siiiix. Eight.”

XD terrible count stopped eventually, and he pulled back, letting Dream curl up to protect himself. He was panting and tired and XD knew he wouldn’t last long. Time to wrap it up.

“Well you have a perfect amount of ribs. Now how many toes do you have?”

Dream’s panting ended with a gasp as he curled up tighter. He tried to shield his socked feet with his hands, like it was any kind of protection. “T-Ten! I have ten! N-Noho nehehehed to cheheck!”

“Oh but I must check! What if you’ve misplaced one?”

Before Dream could sputter out how impossible that was, his ankles were snatched and he was yanked almost upside down. His socks were pulled off and tossed aside and XD was already grabbing at one of his toes.

“XDEEEEEEE!” Dream squealed as he tried to reach for his feet. It was impossible to reach and trying made Dream giggly from how silly it was.

“You are just making this longer Dreamie~” XD cooed. His fingers wiggled just slightly over Dream’s toes before he grabbed at one again. This time tickling his nail just slightly under it and grinning at Dream’s howl.

“EHEHEHEX DEHEHEHE!”

“One...two...three… You know it’s really hard to keep track of these toes when you’re wiggling them so much.”

“StohOHOP TihihihIHIcklihihing meheHEHE THEHehehen!”

“I am not tickling I am counting your toes. And now you’ve made me lose count again.” XD sighed dramatically as he restarted his counting, much to Dream’s screaming dislike.

Despite XD’s want to restart the count again, he could hear Dream’s laughter grow wheezy and weak. Instead he finished the count, giving a small skitter over Dream’s foot while he let go of his ankle, and watched the foot be yanked back into safety.

Dream was tired, giving out weak giggle between his laughs. His cheeks were rosy and eyes sleepy. XD gave in to his overwhelming love and bundled Dream up in his cloak again, wrapping him tightly in the makeshift blanket.

“N-Noho mohore tihicklihihing.” Dream giggled.

“No more.” XD promised. “Time for sleep.”

The two brothers settled in the bed again. XD looked outside to see the rain slowly letting up and the storm had for the most part moved past them. XD settled on the bed with Dream against the chest. The younger brother let out a loud yawn, and could barely keep his eyes open when XD started purring in his chest. It was like an immediate off switch, knocking Dream out and sending him into a peaceful slumber.

The lanterns in the room dimmed from XD’s magic before turning out completely. The room fell into a nighttime darkness with the sound of the rain softly hitting off the window. XD took in a breath and shut his eyes, letting the calm night atmosphere overtake him before he too fell asleep.

Yes. Moving to the Overworld had been one of the best ideas DreamXD ever had.

[luvring]

Hi, do u write for Sugawara?-

If yes, could u pls do some relationship hdcs w/ him?

It's alright if you don't btw!<3333

SUGAWARA RELATIONSHIP HCS

gn!reader | i don't write for suga much but he's very lovely!! :)

one time there was a cheesy love song playing over the speaker and suga said "this is like us" and now it's become a habit anytime he hears one. doesn't even realize he says it sometimes. he's just like me fr energy

suga shares his food with you easily (as long as he can have some of yours) sometimes he teases you by doing the little airplane noises, laughing when you push his shoulder

he asked if you had a favourite flower/colour before your first date so you know,, his plan was so incredibly obvious after the question. but it's fine because he made it a habit to surprise you regularly !! flowers or a bracelet that's your favourite colour on a random tuesday kind of deal :')

he keeps extras of any small things you might need on a regular basis. hair ties, lip balm, a charger—he's ready for anything. he'll pass them to you wordlessly with a knowing grin or soft smile; it just depends on the mood

if he sees you watching something, he'll lean up against you and rest his head on your shoulder and ask what it is. even if it's something he has no idea about, he'll watch with you. if you don't mind him asking questions he'll definitely ask some

^ he may or may not end up getting way more invested than originally planned, but now you always have someone to watch with

somehow always finds new text stickers/gifs to send you ?? like the little cute animals with hearts. you keep asking how the hell he has so many and he always says its a secret (has spent at least 7 dollars buying sticker packs and 20 minutes finding key words to search)

he doesn't mind being big or little spoon, but he will sometimes cling to you in his sleep. why are you trying to leave him rn?

he likes holding hands but also like, when you hold onto his arm? something about it y'know

he's made a plan to take a photo together in the same place every couple of months :') he has a specific album for all of them and plans to print them all out or put them in a timelapse

if you asked him to do a little cheer with the pose (you know the one) he would, especially if you're upset and he knows it would cheer you up. he'll do it unprompted if he notices you're stressed and tired. like literally sitting next to you and making up a silly cheer while clapping until he gets you to laugh

^ if he's ever feeling down and you do it for him ? immediate smile to his face. takes a deep breath and thanks you

really good with words of affirmation and talking in general. if you're looking for empathy and sound advice he's your guy fr

adores when you dote and cheer him on!!! call him lovely and strong and amazing and the best boyfriend ever he's putty in your hands. goes "i am, aren't i?" as if he isn't blushing

will ask why you're up late as if he isn't also up late. says "this isn't about me" that's easily refuted by an "it is now." now you're both going to bed and pretending this didn't happen

suga surprises you with little gifts he saw while he was out! there's always a little note with each of them; they're usually just a reminder to take care of yourself or a cheesy joke to make you smile

the first time you get him a big gift—something he's wanted for ages or has a lot of sentimental value—he (almost) cries. it hits him you care enough to remember and do something for him and it means a lot

he keeps any cards from you in a specific drawer and scatters your gifts around his room. that one toy you got as a joke 2 years ago? still on his dresser

everyone knows when you're coming to watch a game. everybody. /lh they all adore you,, they just find it funny how bright/energetic he gets knowing you'll be there

he tells them not to bother you when you visit and is shocked when you join their schemes and acts if he hasn't also joined in. "i've never played a prank in my life," he says before getting tackled

makes "you'll understand when you're in a relationship" jokes with the others while he's planning things for you . gets "okay old man?" / "why would you say this" (/j) energy in return

suga will do a new move they've been practicing in front of you and act so so confident / nonchalant after they succeed. you clap and he does a little bow, saying it was nothing. everyone reminds him he's been practicing for weeks and he pretends they're lying

loves little photobooth places and having matching accessories!! thinks they're super cute and keeps the photo strips on his wall/in his wallet

tricks you into looking away from the card reader so he can pay for your things . watch out fr

if yoy have an appointment, for hair or nails or a tattoo or whatever else, he'll come with if allowed ! comments on how nice it looks and offers his opinion

hugs you without question if you ask for one. Will cocoon the both of in with a blanket if he notices you're sad

you succeed with something ?? he's running toward you with both arms raised to 1) high-five you and/or 2) hug you and jump around in a circle

kind of specific but he loves shopping for home decor with you. if you ask him to join you on a little thrifting or ikea adventure he's always in

suga's grateful he has access to your phone solely so he can look at your different wishlists on etsy or amazon or whatever. he's able to surprise you with things you want until you inevitably catch on because how did you even find this very specific listing i've had liked for 4 months ??

he likes those apps you can get to share notes with each other on your phones if you know about those . does his best to think up new doodles every morning for you to see

he also likes taking walks . doesn't really matter where or when, maybe after dinner or to do some chores but he just likes walking with you

suga's a really good person to go to if you're anxious about doing something. if you want him to go up and do it, he will. if you ask him to convince/motivate you, he will!! he just wants you to be comfortable

goes with things you say even without knowing what you're talking about. suga i'm just a little cat in rain boots standing in a puddle and he responds with yeah sweetheart you are (immediatelu looks up what photo he assumes you Must talking about)

^ calls you lovey-dovey cheesy pet names if you don't mind. keeps thinking of new ones (that don't even really make sense) to surprise you. "hello my sugar plum angel honey nut cheerio" what are you saying to me rn ?

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten

[ohthatstragic]

You Made It - b.s

a/n: this was different to what i usually write, and i loved it. unfortunately there is no gif of a young jon hamm so please, enjoy this dramatic one above ;) thank you for the request!!

also pls don’t repost or translate any of my work.. i don’t give you permission to do that.

pairings: young!cyclone x reader

warnings: fluffy hehe :3

wc: 1,802

the request: 'fluff with a young Cyclone? Like maybe he didn’t think that you’d be able to make it to his Top Gun graduation, but you surprise him!'

Cyclone stood surrounded in a sea of white uniforms; cheers and whoops echoing in his ears. The young pilot was thrilled to have graduated top of his class - his heart was full with pride. However, there was an emptiness he felt as he glanced around his milling classmates, their faces beaming with glee. That emptiness in him could only be filled by one person, and that person was you.

You and Beau had known each other since high school and you made sure to stay in touch with each other when he had told you he was joining the Navy to become a pilot. You were ecstatic for him, of course, but you couldn't help the pit of sadness that grew in your chest as you realised your best friend would be leaving you. For a long time. You'd see him now and again when he had a break, but it wouldn't be enough to fix the growing hole in you.

Beau made sure to tell you when he was graduating, he called and sent you letters, multiple even, but he never got a reply. The young grad assumed you had moved on with your life - maybe you'd finally got that dream job you'd always gushed about, or maybe you'd found the love of your life. That last thought drove a knife into Cyclone's half-empty heart and he grimaced at the thought of you finding someone other than him to make you happy. The man had fallen for you, and hard. For the entire time he spent at Top Gun, he kept a photo of you in his F-14 for good luck, and that reminder to make sure he came home.

"Why the glum face, Simpson?" Berlin asked with a smirk, clapping a hand on Cyclone's back. The future admiral glanced at his classmate and a small smile picked at his lips. Berlin had gotten his call-sign when he taxied his aircraft into a wall whilst making a turn - it was a hint to the Berlin wall in Germany. It was utterly coincidental that the man was also from German descent, his name being Lucas Schmidt. He had grey eyes with a pale complexion, a messy mop of brown hair strewn across his forehead.

"It's nothin'," Cyclone shook his head, his eyes flying back to the entrance to where the graduation was being held. "'Suppose it just feels surreal that we've graduated." He added with a brief laugh, trying to seem genuine.

Berlin frowned at his classmate, his thick, wiry eyebrows knotting together. "Yep," He sighed. "Shit's gettin' real now!" The other pilot chuckled, and Cyclone joined him in his laughter, trying to push away the thought of you not being here to finally see him graduate - top of his class too. That hurt the most.

"Hey, Berlin, get over here!" IRIS yelled from across the lot, throwing out a hand to wave at the aforementioned pilot. Cyclone held back an amused smile, his mind wandering back to the many times that IRIS, also known as Jack Loweman, had gotten black out drunk and wandered away to do utterly stupid things. It stood for I Require Intense Supervision. Berlin looked to Cyclone, holding out a hand for him to shake.

"Hope to see you in the future, man. Good luck with everything!" Berlin flashed a bright grin at his classmate, and Cyclone smiled back extending his hand out to take Berlin's, giving him a firm handshake.

"Thanks, man, you too." Cyclone nodded, his light blue eyes watching the fresh grad jog away. He pursed his lips as he tore his eyes away from the group of chattering pilots and down to his hand that fished out his worn, leather wallet from his pocket. He popped it open, fingers gliding between the folds to pick out a sun-damaged photo of you. Cyclone's face twisted into a sad smile as he stared at the messily-trimmed photo of you, the emptiness in his chest suddenly feeling bigger than it first did. "I did it, Y/N." He whispered to himself as his thumbs grazed across your pictured face, a feeling of deep sorrow and regret suddenly enveloping his body.

"Disappointed that you graduated, Lieutenant?" You teased with a brief laugh, staring at the back of your best friend's dipped head. He suddenly perked up, his body turning around like a gust of wind. The sad smile that was on his face soon contorted into one of surprise, his mouth falling agape as he stared at you, speechless. "Don't look too happy to see me, then, jeez!" You laughed again, slightly awkward, a little unsure of why he was reacting the way he was. Didn't he want to see you? What were all the letters for then?

"Y/N...?" He uttered quietly, stepping forwards. You bit down on your lip, nodding gently. "You made it." He breathed out, his face still completely shell-shocked. "But... you didn't- you never..." Cyclone stumbled over his words, unable to comprehend a normal sentence due to the malfunction taking place in his brain currently. How were you here? How? You never replied to any of his letters or calls for months?

"I told you I was coming in a letter I sent you, I ran out of money so I couldn't pay for my phone bill," You explained, a shy and bashful smile reaching your lips as you gazed up at Beau, the feelings you tried so hard to dispose of returning within an instant. He didn't reply, he just kept staring at you, dumbfounded. "You didn't know that I was coming?" You whispered, suddenly understanding why he was so shocked at your presence.

"No- I mean, I-I called you so many times, sent you so many letters, I-I thought you'd forgotten about me," Cyclone stuttered, blinking rapidly, his eyes never leaving you. "I never got your letters." He muttered and reached a slow hand up to grasp yours; your heart racing at his touch. You swallowed thickly in an attempt to bury the familiar feeling of fullness that threatened to consume you.

"Well, I guess that explains the awkward situation right now," You joked, a dry laugh leaving your lips. Cyclone's lips finally perked up into an amused grin as he stepped forwards once more to embrace you, his arms tightening around you like a vice. You squeaked at his strength as he squeezed you, and Cyclone quickly let go of you, your hands sliding to his chest. You felt tears prick your eyes as you gazed up at him, an uncontrollable grin reaching your lips. "You look great, Beau." You choked out. The naval aviator chuckled, his hands coming to rest lightly on your waist. "I'm so proud of you."

"I feel great." He joked as he reluctantly took his hands away from your waist and placed them on your arms, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. No matter how long he had been away, his humour stuck with him. "Thank you, Y/N/N." Cyclone said with a proud smile, your hands staying on his chest. Your teary eyes fell from his glossy ones to where your hands laid, sucking in a shaky breath as you caught a glance of the golden aviator pin that sat above his military badges. "I missed you." He mumbled, catching you off guard. Your eyes flew to his.

"What?" You blinked.

"I missed you." He repeated with a gentle smile. "I thought you were done with me, Y/N," Cyclone said, his eyes softening as he stared at you. You only stared back at him, the tears that had bubbled at your waterline suddenly threatened to spill over. "I'm really happy that you're here." He added quietly. His hand reached up from your arm to brush through your hair, sending a jolt through your body.

"I missed you too, Beau," You sniffled, unable to control the oncoming tears. "I missed you so much, Beau, I was so goddamn worried about you." You cried quietly, making Cyclone's smile twist into a sympathetic one.

"You didn't need to worry about me, Y/N, I was fine," He chuckled, the pads of his thumbs quickly rushing to wipe away the tears that fell from your reddened eyes. Your brows quickly knitted together at his words. He so desperately wanted to kiss your tears away, but he knew he couldn't. You weren't his. Yet.

Vigorously, you shook your head at him. "I didn't know that, this is the Navy, Beau, anything can happen! You could die in an accident, or fall off the ship, or-" You gasped, feeling your throat tighten as you spoke. It was easy for Cyclone to say those things, he wouldn't have to deal with the aftermath of him dying in a tragic accident. He wouldn't have to deal with the overwhelming grief and sorrow that would plague and riddle your body, the regret and the what ifs.

"It's alright, Y/N," He hushed you, pulling you against his chest gently to soothe you. You quietly sobbed against his smart, white uniform, a dark patch of your tears pooling against it. "Everything is completely safe, there's many safety procedures to prevent such accidents." Cyclone said as he stroked your head, pressing a soft kiss to it. "For the record, I don't think anyone is stupid enough to fall off the ship, Y/N/N." A deep, chesty laugh left his lips and you rolled your eyes at him, pouting your lips.

"You know what, next time you get deployed, I don't care what happens." You folded your arms against your chest in a defiant manner, clearly unhappy with what Cyclone had said. Despite your best friend being quite intelligent, anyone can slip and fall...

"You don't mean that." He gasped, trying to bite back the laugh that threatened to fall from his lips. You were so cute, and he almost couldn't handle it. He had forgotten how adorable you could be after all this time without you by his side.

"I do!" You exclaimed, still staring at him with narrowed eyes. Cyclone rolled his eyes at you, a playful smile on his lips.

He curled an arm around you, his hand coming to land on the small of your back. His thumb gently brushed against you, and a shiver ran down your spine, shaking you from your playful tantrum. Cyclone felt his smile widen as he felt your body relax against his touch. Suddenly, he realised his heart felt full again. "C'mon, Y/N/N, let me introduce you to everyone else." Cyclone chuckled, leading you towards the large group of his classmates who were currently laughing at something Berlin had said.

"Fine. I still don't care what happens to you next time."

"Y/N!"

i hope this was okay, it was a little hard but i enjoyed it!!

my masterlist

how to request something

[unicyclehippo]

Museum au!!!!!! Thank you for writing, I love it very much! :) happy holidays!

i love museum au i have been trying very hard to write it but life & time & my perfectionism have conspired against me. regardless here is a short snippet from what may be chapter one pls enjoy

//

The Letter arrived on a Thursday evening.

Not by itself, mind you.

It had help in the form of one Claudia Hup, Emon Postal Officer, Third Class, who delivered it to the manor herself. It was the first time she’d had to head out there in the three weeks since trading her rural truck route for a cushy city job; most of her deliveries were contained to Greyhunt and the Shoreline, the northernmost suburbs of Emon, but the manor was a peculiar exception. It stood a mile or so outside city limits—close enough that the job fell to her to cycle all the way out there to deliver the weeks’ post but far enough, imposing enough, that doing so felt like entering a world all its own.

Older.

Menacing.

Save it for last or it’ll ruin your day. Don’t mess around. Drop the post and scram, said the shivering postie who’d traded for her old truck route.

I don’t go out there. Just send ‘em a message saying it got left at the collection, said the postie who ran her route on her off-days.

Oh yeah, it’s extremely cursed, said her trainer, with a bracing clap on her shoulder. Good luck.

The comments were easy to shrug off as tomfoolery, maybe light hazing, from her coworkers until her GuideDot glitched and she had to ask a Shoreline baker for directions. The pitying look that garnered, like he wasn’t convinced she’d make it back, made the whole thing rather less funny.

It was a perfectly lovely afternoon. Claudia whistled as she cycled. The sun would set soon so she didn’t linger beyond a photo or two for her son. Rusted sunlight poured over the Ozmit to her left and the vast wheatfields to her right. The wind was brisk, whipping up the cliffs from the churning sea. Ahead of her rose a tall, grey hill. By the time she made it to the top, she was no longer whistling. The hill was steep, after all, and she wasn’t yet accustomed to the effort of cycling after several years spent driving her truck around the countryside. It had nothing at all to do with the sudden quiet of this place, the wind abruptly falling still as she made it to the manor. The way the sky seemed awfully low, dark clouds hooked on the spires of the roof and the grasping branches of the trees that stood guard at the fenceline. Claudia shivered. Mopped the clammy sweat of her forehead with a sleeve and dismounted her bicycle. She kicked the stand down and crept forward to the iron-wrought fence and the mailbox bolted to it. It opened with a shriek of rusted metal.

From the well of shadows that was the front door to the manor appeared an enormous hound as if summoned.

Red fingers of light reached through the gaps of the fence and brushed over deep black fur. It shone bloody across a long, pointed snout full of glistening teeth and it lingered, caught, in a pair of amber eyes that glowed in those deep shadows like specks of fire.

Claudia Hup - Emon Postal Officer, Third Class - had met dogs before. She had one of her own—a small yappy thing she didn’t like all that much but her son adored. She also knew that dogs were the natural enemy of postal workers worldwide and that this dog, loping down the steps of the creepy manor toward her, did not want her here. As it drew closer, Claudia could only stare in horror. It was a wretched looking thing—tall and lanky, its fur mottled, patchy, and a mess of white and pink scars across one side of its face that drew up the lips, exposing the teeth on that side. Each one had to be as long as her finger. She gulped.

But she had a job to do, and Claudia Hup was very good at her job. She would be made Postal Officer Second Class within two years, something of a meteoric rise in the industry, and in ten she would be Head of the Emon Division. Consider this her first gauntlet.

From the pocket of her uniform, she pulled a small box. It popped open. The dog’s ears shot up. Its nose followed after a moment, snuffling in her direction.

‘Good dog,’ Claudia murmured, eyeing the mailbox. It was uncomfortably close to the enormous dog and suddenly the imposing iron-wrought fence didn’t seem that sturdy. ‘Want a treat?’

Most dogs knew the word treat. Staring into this ones amber eyes, Claudia knew that it knew the word treat…and that it wasn’t impressed. Still, it was worth a try. She tossed the treats past its head. One ear twitched but its attention remained fixed.

Claudia stared back.

‘Right,’ she said after a long minute of losing a staring contest with a dog. ‘Here’s how this is going to work. I’m going to take a step forward.’ The dog growled. Claudia gave it a powerful glare, one she’d pieced together after fifteen years of raising her son. ‘Stop that.’ It stopped. ‘I’m going to take a step forward. I’m going to put these,’ she lifted her handful of mail, ‘in that mailbox. You aren’t going to growl or try to bite me. Got that?’

The dog blinked.

‘Gonna take that as a yes. Great. Good. Talking to a dog. Wonderful.’

Claudia Hup sucked in a deep breath. She stepped forward—well, it was more of a nervous inching forward. But she made it to the gate and the mailbox and with another deep breath—eyes still locked on the dog—she lifted the top and dropped the mail inside.

The moment the papers dropped, the dog began to growl a growl that started in its belly and made its way up to the tip of its creased, snarling snout. Its hackles lifted like black spines.

Claudia’s courage, already strained, packed up and left and she was quick behind it, hurrying to her bicycle and pedalling away, down the tall grey hill and back up the long path to the city ahead of her, as fast as she was able.

The hound watched until she was out of sight. As soon as she was gone, it turned its suspicions on the mailbox. He investigated with a wet nose, sniffing all of the mailbox he could. Smelling nothing, he growled. Low at first, then one loud bark. The moment he did, he leapt back into a crouch, ears pinned flat to his head…but the mailbox merely sat, ever so slowly rusting in the sea-air. The contents of the mailbox—a thick glossy PLEXUS catalogue, the kind they sent out only twice a year; a stack of coupons for the landfill; two fridge magnets from local businesses; a handful of bills; and a postcard, slightly weathered, featuring a golden sun; and The Letter—did not respond to his challenge either, neither growling back nor biting. Harmless, then.

Satisfied, duty done, the hound—Mortadella, according to the bone-shaped tag on his purple collar—sneezed, proud with his victory. Then, he turned and walked back to the steps of the manor, pausing to snuffle at a few patches of moss and bite playfully at the grass that peeked up through the brickwork path. He made his way back to his bed laid out on the porch and turned in a circle once, twice, before settling back down to sleep.

The Letter sat in the mailbox for several more hours.

[lovingvalentines]

Hello! May I request Atticus x reader who’s a bit of a theater nerd themselves, and the “Poison-type prince” (lol) first properly meeting them after hearing them sing “Once upon a dream” in Tagtree Thicket pls? Oddly specific, but that’s my dream romantic meeting right there lol, and I need more Atticus in my life! Btw love your stuff!!!

(I don't remember if I've done any writing for Atticus so I'm just going to use a new emoji for him. Also I'm so sorry this took so long, I could never find the right inspiration to write this and I wanted to do it good.)

🧵 Atticus was wandering in the forest one day, trying to clear his head and maybe get some new inspiration when he heard some of the most beautiful singing he's ever heard.

🧵 He followed the singing to a clearing in the forest, he hid behind a tree as he watched. A person he'd never seen before was dancing and singing with all of their heart, unaware of their audience.

🧵 Atticus wasn't the only one there, many of Pokemon had gathered to watch and listen. It was an amazing sight.

🧵After they were done singing, Atticus walked out from behind the tree, clapping slowly.

🧵 "That was very beautiful, it seems that even nature was transfixed." Atticus said.

🧵"Oh my Arceus, you were listening!? Wait, where did all these pokemon come from!? " Y/N panicked, starting to freeze up.

🧵Atticus laughed a bit, "Don't worry, your singing was amazing. My name is Atticus, what's yours? "

🧵"Y/N...My name is Y/N. Wait aren't you a Team Star boss? "

🧵"Yes I am, but that doesn't matter. What matters is you're singing. Have you always been able to sing like that?"

🧵Y/N blushed, looking away. "Well... I've practiced a lot. I sing quite a bit. I love musicals and stuff, and I have a lot of time to practice. "

🧵"Sounds like time well spent. Your practice has definitely made perfect. Do you act in any performances?"

🧵"No I haven't, but I'd love to! I plan on moving to Unova one day and try my hand in acting."

🧵"Do you have an acting teacher or something? "

🧵 "No, I don't. I wish I did, but I am entirely self-taught. "

🧵"I don't really know that much about acting. How about we learn together?"

🧵"Wait, really? That'd be amazing! I've always needed someone to practice with. Are you sure? "

🧵"Of course! I think it'd be fun, AND I'd get to listen to more of your beautiful singing. "

🧵 "Heh... Okay! Let's do it! "

[eddiescorrodedcoffinxo]

Party Etiquette

Warnings: language (cursing), slight alcohol usage (not enough to delegitamize consent), making out, sexual situations(?)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!Henderson!reader

Summary: Eddie asks if you’re going to a party. You decided you’re definitely going now. 

Word Count: 4,633

AN: in this universe, Eddie’s still an outcast but it’s a little less extreme, also Chrissy and Jason aren’t a thing (not super important but makes sense). P.S. this is my first time writing so constructive criticism pls <3

You glance over at your brother, Dustin, while Amelia gushes over the flowers Jason brought her that morning. Your eyes fall onto the boy Dustin’s sitting next to: Eddie Munson. 

You’d gotten to know Eddie through Dustin the past few months after school started. Eddie Munson who apparently used Aqua Net Hairspray to control his frizz on humid days. Eddie Munson who’d only ever spent time playing his guitar and hanging out with his friends (with the occasional “business” deal here and there). 

You realize you’d been staring in their direction when your brother waves over to you from across the cafeteria with a smile. As you wave back you notice Eddie looking over at you after Dustin’s attention was given to someone other than him. He gives you a confused look as he regains Dustin’s attention. 

Amelia gains your attention by clapping in your face asking, “(y/n), did you even hear what I said?”

“Um, no sorry,” you said apologetically, “What’d you say?”

“I asked if you wanted to come to the party Jason invited me to tonight,” she says exasperatedly. “I don’t even know why you keep looking at Dustin, he’s practically sealed his fate sitting with the Hellfire club everyday. Don’t even get me started with those shirts they wear. Ugh.”

“Hey, from what I’ve heard, they’re not all that bad. Apparently all they do is play Dungeons and Dragons, talk about girls, and drive around,” you defend them, trying to divert the conversation from her question.

“Mhm, sure, so what about that party tonight?” she asks again.

“Are you sure Jason would even want me coming? I mean, I’ve barely even talked to him, only when I’m with you.” 

Amelia rolls her eyes as she says, “Oh please, I already asked him when he invited me. He said I could bring anyone as long as I brought myself. I think he really wants me there,” she says sighing. 

The bell rings as you start to pack everything back into your lunch box. “Umm, I don’t know. I’ll think about it and call you after school but I have to get to history.”

She stands to walk out of the cafeteria with you, “Ok, ok, I’ll be waiting by the phone stewing in anticipation,” she says through a laugh, waving goodbye, and turning left while you turn right.

--

You sit in the back of Mr. Ronon’s history class, coincidentally a few seats down the row from Eddie. Maybe you did it on purpose the first day of school, wanting to sit next to the hot third-year senior, maybe not. Picking at your manicured nails while Mr. Ronon drones on about the passengers of the Mayflower, a note is placed on your desk. 

“your brother talks about you a lot. you coming to jason’s party tonight?”

-eddie

You look up to see Eddie paying attention to the lesson. That’s a first, you think to yourself as you scribble on a new piece of paper. 

“I was invited, maybe. Why?”

It gets passed back to Eddie by the two students sitting between you. He smiles to himself and writes a response on the back of the paper you sent to him. 

“got a couple clients asking me to be there. wanted to see if someone actually cool was going to be there.”

When the note makes it back to you, you think of something good to respond with. You were going to play into whatever game he was playing.

“Guess you’ll just have to see.”

Trying not to pay attention to his response, you focus back onto the lesson while counting the seconds tick by on the clock above the chalkboard. 

--

Dustin races out of your car and up to the front door. “Dammit!” he screams, “(y/n), hurry up! I forgot my key.”

You unlock the door for him and ask, “Jesus, why are you in such a rush? Got a hot phone call with Suzie you’re late for?” 

“Ewww, gross, but no. I’m waiting for a call from Eddie. He says he got invited to a party tonight and might bring me and Mike along so we can see what a real high school party is like. Isn’t that so fun? He said he’s be doing ‘business’ deals the whole time, whatever that means. But, (y/n), my first high school party, I should call Steve to see what to wear.” he rambles on as the two of you make your way to the kitchen to make a snack. 

“I’m sorry, Eddie’s taking you to the party?” you ask, shocked. “And he’s going to be doing ‘business’ deals while you’re there?!”

“Yeah, what’s the big deal?” Dustin asks cluelessly.

“Oh, buddy, you’ll learn when you’re a bit older,” you laugh, “Ask me again when you’re sixteen. But hey, luckily for you, I’ll be at the party too. You know, to keep an eye on you,” you say with a wink.

“Ugh, fine, whatever. Who invited you anyway?”

“Technically, Jason. But I’m going for Amelia.” And for Eddie you think as you explain things to your brother. “Did Eddie mention what time the party started? Because Amelia failed to mention that today.”

“Yeah, it starts at 9, but Eddie said all the cool people don’t show up until like 10:30,” Dustin explains to you while you pour two bowls of Cap’n Crunch.

“Ok, well, Jason only lives like two blocks away so we can start walking at 10:15. Does that work for you?”

Dustin grabs two spoons from the silverware drawer and says, “Oh, actually, Eddie said he’d pick me up. He told me he doesn’t drink while doing ‘business’ and that’s the only thing he’s doing tonight so it’ll be all good. I can ask him to take you too if you want?” 

A look of indecision crosses your face, “Oh no, I’m sure Amelia or someone else could take me. And I could always walk too,” you say as you grab your bowl and take it down the hall to your room. 

--

In your room, you’re holding the phone to your ear and eating the Cap’n Crunch. The phone rings while you wait for Amelia to answer. 

“Hello, this is the Richardson household,” you hear her mom say.

“Hi Mrs. Richardson, it’s (y/n), could you ask Amelia to answer the phone?” you say to her.

“Oh of course darling, one second,” you hear a muffled scream of Amelia’s name as Mrs. Richards puts the phone back to her ear. “How’s your mom sweetheart? Is she still upset over Mews?”

“Oh, no ma’am, me and Dustin got her a new cat and she’s so happy now. I’m sure she’d love to get together with you and the girls. You know, maybe play some bridge tonight?” you suggest to Amelia’s mom.

“Aww, honey, you’re so sweet. I’ll be sure to-” Mrs. Richardson gets cut off.

“Hello, (y/n)?” you both hear Amelia say over the line.

“I guess I’ll go now, nice talking to you (y/n),” Amelia’s mom says as she puts the phone back on the receiver.

“Hey bitch, what’s up? You coming to the party or not?” Amelia asks.

You sigh into the phone, setting the bowl on your bedside table, “Yes, I am. Dustin’s going and this cute guy from my history class is too. I have to keep an eye on Dusty and this guy asked me if I was going and I said maybe and I-” Amelia cuts of your rambling. 

“This cute guy, does he happen to be Eddie Munson?” she asks with a hidden smile on the other side of the phone.

“W-what, girl what do you think you’re talking about?” your voice is suspiciously high-pitched as you respond. 

“It’s kind of obvious, (y/n). I mean, think about it. You’re always staring over at Dustin. Who sits next to Dustin? Eddie. Who’s in your history class? Eddie. Who goes to parties? Eddie. Who do you definitely have a crush on? Eddie.” she explains. You know there’s so much more that she could go into and you’re thankful she didn’t. You’re reminded why she’s your best friend all over again. She can know everything about you without you even saying a thing. 

“Jesus, am I really that bad at hiding my crush?” you ask with a huff.

“No girl, trust me, no one else can tell. I just know you that well,” she laughs.

“Ok, then yeah, I’m going because Eddie asked if I’d be there. Which, surprisingly, you’re ok about? I thought you hated Eddie?” you asked.

“I mean, I don’t hate him. He’s a little weird that’s for sure, but he seems to make you happy, and I love that he makes your little brother happy. In fact,” she continues, “I respect him a little bit. He’s so…himself no matter how anyone treats him. And he’s always so nice. I’ve definitely never had a negative interaction with him.”

“Hold up. When have you ever had an interaction with Eddie Munson?” you ask out of confusion.

“Oh, you know, after him and Jason worked out their issues, Jason became a regular ‘customer’ and I’ve gone with him a few times after school.”

“Wow, Jason Carver, one of Eddie’s ‘customers’. Who would’ve thought,” you wonder aloud. You continue, “But yeah, I’m going for Eddie but also mostly for you and Dustin. How are you getting to Jason’s?”

“Oh yeah, I’m sorry but I’m riding over with Natalie early to hang out with Jason and Patrick before the party starts. We’re also spending the night. I’m sorry, I would’ve told you earlier but Natalie and Jason ambushed me after 7th period today.” she apologizes.

“Babe, it’s ok, I’ll just walk or catch a ride with Dusty. Spending the night with Jason? Do you have protection?” you ask seriously.

“Oh my god, (y/n), you’re so embarrassing. But yes, I do. Don’t worry, you won’t become an aunt anytime soon. Do you have protection?” she asks jokingly.

“Don’t even try with me girl.” you warn.

“Ok, ok, well tell me more about what you like about Eddie. We need to come up for a plan for you two tonight. He’s obviously into you if he asked if you’d be there. We gotta get you two together. Tonight.” she emphasizes the end of her sentence with a snap. 

As you go on and on about Eddie you don’t notice Dustin standing outside your door listening to you. He plans to tell all of this to Eddie as soon as he calls. Speaking of Eddie, he’d been trying to call the Henderson household for about an hour as he gives up and just heads over. It’s not like he’d never been over before, he’d just never been over uninvited. He hoped your mom wasn’t home, she always seemed a little scared of him. 

Dustin hops in the shower to start getting ready for the party as Eddie hops into his van. You continue on the phone as you hear the shower start and tell Amelia you’ve got to go to get ready. 

The doorbell rings and Dustin yells from the shower, “(Y/N), GET THE DOOR I’M NAKED!”

“Woah, you’re naked in the shower? I didn’t know you were supposed to do that,” you shout back obviously, adding on, “You better be out in 10 minutes. There’s only 2 hours until we have to leave and I have to shower too!”

You jog down the hallway to answer the door. Swinging it open to reveal a rosy-cheeked, droopy-eyed Eddie Munson. He stops picking at his jacket when he hears the door open, surprised to see you. He’s too busy taking in the jeans and t-shirt you’d worn to school that day and the way your eyes are shining in the moonlight that illuminated your door step.

“Umm, hi?” you say.

“O-oh, yeah, hi. I’m, um, I’m here for Dustin. To take him to the party.”

“Aren’t you like,” you look down at your watch, “2 hours early?” you question; keeping your cool obviously better than he is. 

“Yeah,” he clears his throat and stands taller, leaning agains the door frame on one arm. “ I came early, phone line was busy, needed to talk to him about party etiquette, you know.” 

“Umm, sure. He’s in the shower but you can wait in his room. I’ll let him know you’re here,” you say while stepping back and opening the door to let him in. 

He walks past you, “Thanks sweetheart,” he says with a wink.

You hope he doesn’t notice the heat rush to your cheeks as you close the door and head to the hallway with him hot on your heels. Eddie abandons you halfway down the hallway to go into Dustin’s room. Noticing the shower had turned off, you walk into the bathroom, bypassing the unlocked door. 

“Heyyyy, dude, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Dustin asks, shocked and luckily already wrapped in a towel.

“Oh, can it. What is Eddie Munson doing in your bedroom right now? I thought you said he wouldn’t be here until like 10? I have to take a shower, Dustin, how am I supposed to do that with him right down the hall?” you huff at him. 

“I don’t know why Eddie’s here but it’s fine, you can still shower. I’ll make sure he stays in my room. Do you need a ride?” 

“Yeah, I do, thanks. Amelia’s leaving early and staying the night.” you explain.

“Ok, I’ll ask Eddie and let you know.” 

“Cool, thanks, now get out. I only have 2 hours to get ready. Bye!” you say as you close the door on him, still trying to talk to you about tonight. 

--

You take your shower with no more issues, planning out your outfit in your head. You decide to go mostly casual: high-waisted, ripped jeans, a red tanktop, and your white sneakers. The perfect outfit for going out in November. 

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap a towel around your still dripping body and go to brush your hair in front of the mirror. While brushing, your mind wanders to Eddie. Eddie Munson who’d asked if you’d be at the party. Eddie Munson who was in your little brother’s bedroom teaching him party edicate, whatever that meant. Eddie Munson who had to pee. 

--

“...Ok, and that’s how you always win at pong, literally always, never been defeated.” Eddie finishes his tangent.

“Yeah, dude, I get it. I’ve gotten it for the past 30 minutes,” Dustin laughs.

“Whatever, Dustin, you just don’t understand. Hey, dude, I gotta pee. You think your sister’s done in the bathroom yet?” he asks.

“I don’t know, probably. The water’s been off for like 10 minutes. Just go knock and find out,” Dustin huggs while looking for an outfit to wear.

“Ok,” Eddie says as he pushes himself off the bed and walks out the door. 

You don’t hear his heavy, booted footsteps coming towards you down the hall and swing the bathroom door open, a cloud of steam following you out of the room. Your steps halt as you see Eddie, halfway down the hallway staring at you. 

Eddie can’t believe his eyes. (y/n) Henderson fresh out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, and still dripping wet. He tries to keep his cool as he says, “Hey sweetheart, sorry, thought you were in your room already.” His eyes roam your body as he explains. 

“Oh–um,” you cough, “Yeah, all good. No worries,” you mumble as you look anywhere than at him. 

“You know, we leave in 30 minutes, I hope you don’t plan on wearing just that towel. Might attract a bit too much attention,” Eddie says slowly as he walks towards you, backing you into the wall next to your bedroom door. 

He’s looking down at you now, leaning on his arm above your head, as you finally meet his eyes. He licks his lips as he looks down from your eyes to your nose, down to the cleavage visible from the top of the towel, back up to your face: scanning your features like he’s trying to memorize them. You scan your mind for something witty to say back. He might’ve caught you off-guard but he doesn’t need to know that. 

“Just wait, Munson, I’ve got something much better than this old towel planned,” you whisper to him. 

He lowers his face even closer to yours, his other hand coming to hover over your waist. His lips brush over yours as he whispers, “Good, I can’t wait to see it.” He turns around to go to the bathroom leaving you breathless right outside your bedroom door. 

Inside your bedroom you decide two things. One: you need to find a way better outfit to wear to the party. And two: you can’t ride with Eddie and your brother after what just happened. Plus, you want him caught off-guard by your outfit at the party, not in your living room. 

Looking through your closet you decide to keep the jeans and shoes from the original outfit. For your top, you decide on a Madonna-esque black, mesh crop top with just a red bra underneath. 

After finalizing the outfit, you call around to see who else you could get a ride from this close to the party starting. Leslie, from your English class, is going and isn’t planning on showing up until 11. She offers you the last open seat in her car as you mentally check that last task from your list.

“DUSTIN, COME HERE!” You yell across the hallway, still dressed in a towel.

Dustin comes running out of his room, “What?” he asks, exasperated. 

“I’m not riding with you and Eddie anymore, I’m riding with Leslie. Don’t wait up for me,” you say, eyes drifting up to land on Eddie standing in Dustin’s doorway. 

You close the door and start getting dressed. While your doing your makeup, you hear Eddie’s van peel out of the driveway and get started on your own little pre-party. The KISS record on your record player gets turned up as you pull the bottle of vodka from under your bed. 

Finishing the last strokes of mascara, you pour yourself a shot and take it. As you feel the burn in your throat, the sound of Leslie’s station wagon’s horn sounds from the street. Your shoes are pulled on in a rush and you’re bounding out of the house and into Leslie’s back seat. 

--

You’d been at the party for about half an hour, eyes constantly scanning the sea of people. You don’t want to admit that you’re looking for Eddie, but you’re looking for Eddie. Deciding to do anything other than stand in the corner, you head towards the kitchen to grab a drink. 

In the kitchen, you run into Dustin. A drunk Dustin, apparently. 

“(y/nnnnn),” he whines, “I feel funny. Eddie said I shouldn’t have too much but I don’t know how much is too much,” he spills what’s left in the cup all over the floor as he stumble towards you. 

You take the cup and cringe at how strongly the left-over contents smell of alcohol. “Jesus Dustin, how much of this have you had to drink? Who made it?” you fire out questions to him. 

“I’ve only had one cup, Eddie made it,” he hiccups to you. 

You lean down a little to help him stand as you sigh, “Ok buddy, let’s just get you to the couch and you can leave with me or Eddie, whoever leaves first. Does that sound good?” 

He nods as you lead him toward the couch, “Yeah, sis, sounds good.” 

After setting him down, you run into Chrissy and Natalie on your way back to the kitchen; catching up with them as you pour yourself a drink. The three of you chat in the kitchen for a bit when Amelia comes walking up to you. She invites all of you to join a game of spin the bottle that’d started in one of the guest bedrooms upstairs. Natalie and Chrissy head upstairs as you hesitate. 

“Come on (y/n),” Amelia pleads, “Jason got Eddie to stick around and play?” She knew saying that would make you perk up and follow her to the bedroom. Not before making sure Dustin would be ok for a little bit and ensuring someone would be checking on him every few minutes. 

Following Amelia up the stairs has you nervous. You down the rest of your drink and prepare to face Eddie Munson. Amelia pushes the door open and you follow behind her, taking in everyone else. You don’t know everyone but you recognize Natalie, Chrissy, Patrick, Jason, and Eddie. You take in Eddie as he seemingly takes you in as well. He’s wearing the same thing that he was at school: his Hellfire shirt, leather jacket with a denim vest over, ripped black jeans, and his black boots. 

He notices you immediately. You were right he thinks to himself you had something way better than that towel planned. He can’t help but drink in your appearance. You’d curled your hair and done your makeup, but that wasn’t what caught his attention. That shirt. You had on a practically see-through shirt with just a bra underneath and he was not happy about it. He was so not happy that everyone else got to see you like that. 

You take a seat in the circle across from Eddie, still looking at you, as Jason explains the rules. 

“Ok, so it’s like 7 minutes in heaven and spin the bottle. Someone spins the bottle, them and who it lands on go into the closet for 7 minutes. We’ve got 2 closets up here so 2 groups can go at once. Got it?” Everyone nods after he asks the question. The first person to spin is Amelia. As fate would have it, the empty wine bottle lands on Jason. You give her a nudge and she smiles at you as she gets up and follows him into the closet in the room. 

Patrick speaks up, “Ok, (y/n), you spin next. The other closet is right outside the door to the left.” 

“Ok,” you breathe shakily as you reach out to spin the bottle. Your eyes are locked on the bottle as it spins and spins. You’re shaking in anticipation, silently praying, as the bottle comes to a stop: pointed directly at Eddie. Everyone looks at each other and snickers, smiling as Eddie looks up from the bottle: eyes glued to you.

You look at him across the circle, as he stands and walks towards you. He steps between you and Natalie and extends his hand to help you stand. You take it and follow him out the door, closing it behind you. He leads you left down the hallway, still holding your hand and opens the closet door for you. 

The silence behind the closed closet door is suffocating. “Sooo,” you whisper, looking up at him pressed against you due to the size of the closet, “I think you gave my brother alcohol poisoning.”

He laughs and you can feel his breath across your face. “Please, I only put like a shot and a half in that drink. It was mostly lemonade.” 

“Mhm, sure,” you mumble, stealing a glance at his lips. 

He notices, as he does the same thing, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip. His hands come to rest on your waist as he lowers his face to yours. 

“This ok?” he asks, nudging your nose with his. 

Words seem to fail you at this moment so reply by grabbing his shoulders and slamming his lips onto yours. The kiss burns. It’s hot and it’s fast, his teeth slamming into yours. Lips moving together with fervor, wanting anything they can get. His tongue brushes against your lips and you let out a breathy moan. Eddie takes advantage and pushes his tongue into your mouth as he presses his body into yours. Your hands are reaching into his hair and pulling. He grunts and presses his body imbossibly further into yours, allowing you to feel the hardness in his jeans press against your stomach. 

His hands are racing all over your body. They move up from your waist to hold your cheeks, then down to cup your upper thighs. He picks you up to hold you between him and the wall, the kiss deepening even more as he massages your thighs through your jeans. You tug his hair again and his hands land back on your waist, squeezing and kneading the skin there. They come up under your mesh shirt and begin to tug on the bottom. He pulls away from the kiss, tugging your bottom lip along the way. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” he says pulling away to lift the shirt off your body. His lips return to your skin, making his way along your jaw as his hands come up to cup your ribs. 

“What?” you huff, squeezing his shoulder with one hand, “gotten locked in a closet with me?” 

Eddie kisses and nips his way from your jaw down your neck. Leaving little red splotches to mark his path that you knew you’d have to hide from your mom later. His hands ghost higher until they’re squeezing and massaging.

He sucks hard on the juction between your neck and shoulder, making you gasp, “You know what I mean. Can’t believe you let other people see you like this. Nope, mark my words, you’re mine now,” he promises roughly, “And God, these tits, can’t believe you hid these from me,” he hisses, pinching you’re nipples through the padding of your bra. 

You whimper at his actions and pull him back up to your mouth by his hair, Jesus Christ this man you think, and begin to take off his denim vest when you hear the doorknob jiggle below you. 

“There’s no way it’s been 7 minutes,” he mumbles against your lips as you both freeze.

“(y/n)! Eddie! Are you in there? I want to go home. Someone told me you’d be in here,” you both sigh as you hear Dustin yell from the hallway. However, Dustin realizes the door wasn’t locked, it was just jammed. He pushed with all his strength and broke his way into the closet. He was met with the glorious sight of his sister, shirtless, and held up against the wall by his best friend. 

“WHAT. THE. FUCK.” he screams, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SISTER DUDE? THAT’S MY SISTER! LITERALLY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU. OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS ACTUALLY HAPPENING. EDDIE THIS IS SO NOT GOOD PARTY ETIQUETTE! YOU TOLD ME GENTLEMEN ALWAYS FIND A ROOM AND MAKE SURE TO LOCK THE DOOR. THAT DOOR WAS NOT LOCKED. OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE I JUST SAW THAT! EWWWW” 

“Dude,” Eddie says, still holding you against the wall, “I’ll be down in a sec, just go wait in the van. Oh my Jesus.” 

Dustin walks out of the closet, fake gagging all the way down the stairs. Eddie looks down at you, takes in your bra-clad chest as he kisses you one more time. Hard. He’s pushing his tongue back into your mouth before pulling away and pecking your nose. “See you at home sweetheart. I think I should stay the night since he’s gonna need a babysitter,” he says before turning around, winking, and disappearing down the hallway. 

You’re left panting in the closet and stumble to put your shirt back on, not that it does much, as you prepare for what waits for you, later, at home.

[dr0wning-in-hell]

Mate pt.3 - Jed

Summary: Jed tires to gain Y/N’s trust and wants her to know that there is nothing wrong with her, Y/N think’s its all a game until she doesn’t.

Word Count: 4.6k+

Warnings: cursing, some angst, fluff

Pairing/characters: Jed x heratic!reader, Hope, Lizzie, Josie, Landon, MG, Raphael, Kaleb, Dr. Saltzman

Prompt: a/n

A/N: I honestly did not think I was going to get so much feedback on this mini series! I do apologize for how long it’s taken me to write literally anything, but I’m trying to get back into it. Also!! If anyone has any ideas for part four pls let me know! Comment it or send me a message!

new masterlist| prompt list| color prompts| ko-fi

A few days after the incident in the cafeteria Y/N began to slowly talk to the witches and vampires, but still kept her distance from the werewolves. After what happened she didn’t want to give them any ammunition against her. For whatever reason, she noticed that Jed was constantly trying to talk to her or apologize for the events that happened days prior. She really didn’t want anything to do with him or his pack considering they were just trying to pick a fight with her for no reason, but Jed really did want to apologize to her.

Y/N had a study hall, which she generally spent with the twins and Hope. She was already sitting at their usual spot in the student lounge, working on her homework and waiting for the girls. Jed just so happened to have a study hall as well, but most of his were recently trying to figure out what he was going to say to Y/N. Today was the day he decided to pull on his big boy pants and just talk to her. Taking in a deep breathe he walked over to where she was sitting and sat in the chair opposite of her. 

“I know you probably don’t want to talk to me but I want to get to know you and apologize for what my pack did the other day in the cafeteria.” Jed said quickly. Y/N looked up from her notebook, a clear ‘I’m not interested’ look plastered on her face. “Please let me make it up to you.” There was a moment of silence before she let out a sigh and nodded in agreement. Jed grinned as he stood up, clapping his hands together. “Great, uh okay, tonight around seven?” Y/N agreed and Jed finally left her alone just as the other three girls showed up. They all eyed Jed, giving him a death glare as he walked by them.

Jade let out a breathe of relief as he went to go find Landon, Kaleb and M.G. After walking around the school for a few minutes he found them in Landon’s room, all of them arguing about which Superman actor was the best. 

“Nah man, Henry Cavil as Superman was the best, he just embodied it more.” M.G argued with Landon as he shook his head at him. 

Landon let out a grunt as he leaned back against his head board. “The original Superman was the best, I don’t get why you can’t understand that.” Their stupid banter was cut short as Kaleb looked over at an awkward Jed standing in the doorway. “Uh, hey man, can we help you?” Landon said as looked just confused as his two vampire friends. 

“I need your guys’ help with setting up a date tonight to make it up to Y/N.” Jed spoked quickly, his nerves starting to get the best of him. 

Kaleb snorted as he shook his head, “And why should we help you? You’re the one that fucked up with your little crush.” Kaleb rolled his eyes.

Jed balled up his fists and clenched his jaw. “She’s not just a crush.” He said as he began to calm himself down, “She’s my mate, and I feel horrible about what happened in the cafeteria.” He said softly, sincerity was laced in his voice which told the three boys that he was serious about making it up to Y/N.

As much as the three boys didn’t like Jed for everything he had done to them and how he treated all of them, they could tell by the way he was fiddling with his hands and tapping his feet, he was nervous and really wanted everything to be perfect. 

M.G. nodded as he stood up, “I’ll help, but only because Y/N deserves to know that she has people that care about her.” Jed nodded in agreement and glanced over at the other two students. They groaned as they grumbled a ‘fine’, all three of them going along with whatever was about to happen. 

“Do you at least have any plans? You’re not just gonna get her and not having anything to do right?” Kaleb questioned as he raised an eyebrow at the werewolf. Jed stayed silent. “So not only are we helping you get this ready for Y/N, we’re helping you plan the whole thing because apparently you can’t plan something as simple as this.” 

Jed rolled his eyes, “It’s not as simple as you think. She’s my mate and I messed up with what happened the other day, she deserves to know how I feel and everything needs to be perfect.” The three boys sighed as they put their belongings to the side and made a spot for Jed in their group. Jed walked over to where they were, taking a seat on the floor and pulling a notebook out from his backpack.

The four students planned the nights events during their off period and during lunch, making sure that Jed had all of his bases covered. They had decided to go with a night time picnic, making one of Y/n’s favorite dishes but also making sure to keep a blood bag cooled in the basket. They were going to set it all up in the witches hang out spot, thinking that it would be more romantic and secluded there than anywhere else. Everything seemed good so far, they had the place, time, meals, it seemed perfect. 

That was until someone told the rest of the werewolves and they were making it their mission to sabotage the evening. 

Jed and the other three boys began putting everything together for the nights events once school was over, which was around three o’clock. MG and Landon were on decorations out in the little witch hide out while Jed and Kaleb were on meal prepping. Though Kaleb hated the boy, he did have to admit that what he was doing for Y/N was sweet and he thought it was almost honorable that he was going to such lengths to apologize to Y/N. 

Kaleb let out an awkward cough as he walked across the kitchen to grab some ingredients for his side of the meal he was making. “You know man, I think it really is nice what you’re doing for Y/N. It shows that you really care about her.” Jed was taken back a bit, surprised that such kind words came out of Kaleb’s mouth.

Instead of saying some snarky comment he replied with a simple ‘thank you’, before the two fell back into silence. 

While the boys had been preparing for the night, they had managed to rope the girls into their plans and got them to help Y/N get ready for the evening. Yes she did know that her and Jed were having dinner that evening, but she didn’t know just how far he was taking it. When Lizzie began pulling out these fancy dresses she thought the girls were really just out here trying to get her laid. It aggravated Y/N that everyone else knew what was happening but she had no clue. Being left in the dark was her least favorite thing, it meant she couldn’t prepare for things.

“Hello, earth to Y/N.” Lizzie snapped her fingers in front of the heretic’s face, causing Y/N to snap out of her daze. Her eyes locked onto Lizzie who had an annoyed expression on her face since Y/N wasn’t paying attention to what she had just asked her. 

Y/N hummed looking at her like she had been listening, tilting her head to try and make it more convincing. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” Y/N asked. 

Lizzie rolled her eyes as she held up two dresses.  One was a longer floral dress with a slit up the side, and the other was a slightly shorter floral dress as well. In Y/N’s eyes she didn’t see the difference between the two dresses, they were just clothes. Lizzie handed her the first dress since Y/N didn’t want to make a decision and told her to go put it on. Y/N did so with an annoyed groan. Did she think something spontaneous was going to come out of this? Y/N was only being nice to Jed and that’s why she accepted his offer for dinner tonight, there was nothing else to it. 

Y/N slid into the dress, sighing as she didn’t want to see what she looked like in it, she was never one to dress up and draw extra attention to herself. She got enough that being a heretic. She stepped out of the bathroom, smoothing down the sides of the dress and looking up at the three girls were gawking at the sigh in front of her.

“What? Does it not look good?” Why was she stressing over this? It’s not like this was a date or anything. “Maybe I should just put my other clothes back on.” As she went to reach for the outfit she wore earlier that day Josie stopped her by gently grabbing her wrist.

“You look amazing, Y/N. You should see for yourself.” She said as she turned her friend towards the mirror. Y/N looked up at her reflection, her own gasp almost escaping her lips. She did look good, really good in fact. The dress hugged her just right, every curve, roll, and dip of her body the dress perfected it.

Y/N could see the girls smiling behind her causing her to smile herself. She had never felt so.. happy with how she looked before, this was a first for her. The girls continued on their quest to help Y/N get ready for the rest of the evening. 

About an hour and half later, Landon came knocking on the door to see if Y/N was ready yet. Thankfully they had just finished up her hair and she was ready to go. She hugged the girls and thanked them as she walked out and followed a very speedy Landon down the stairs. He didn’t walk her all the way out to where Jed had set up their evening. 

Y/N followed the trail of fairy light along a pebbled path until she reached the witch’s hiding area. It was decorated quite nicely, even she would have to admit that the boy had put in a lot of effort to make the place look nice. Y/N’s doubts about the werewolf hadn’t completely faded as she hadn’t seen any sign of him, that was until she saw him lighting a few more candles around the edges of the small building to give it some more light.

“Looks like you’ve really out done yourself, huh?” Y/N said as she stepped under the roof. Jed quickly turned around, nearly knocking over a candle and setting the place on fire. She chuckled at his clumsiness and walked over to the table. 

Jed cleared his throat as he smoothed out his blazer. “You look amazing.” Jed’s breathe seemed to have a hard time returning to his body after his first look at the girl in front of him. Of course he thought she was beautiful anyways, but this? This was something else. Jed walked over to where Y/N was going and pulled out the chair for her to sit. She did so, mumbling a soft ‘thank you’. The werewolf walked back over to his seat and smiled awkwardly.

Yes, Jed had been on dates before, many dates to be honest, but this was his fist date with his mate. The person he’d be spending the rest of his life with if the world would to be so kind and allow that to happen. He reached into the center of the table and unveiled the nights meal, Korean beef bowls with fried dumplings. Y/N was a little shocked to say the least, Korean food was one of her favorite foods so the fact that he made her something she enjoyed was pretty unexpected. 

“Kaleb said you liked Korean food and I remember my parents teaching me how to make this so I thought it was a good idea.” Jed nervously explained as he handed one the bowls to Y/N. She took with a smile.

“It’s great thank you.” She said softly. Her hard exterior was finally starting to come down, something that rarely happened even if she was with close friends and family. Jed smiled as the two began to eat and make small talk, the two finally learning new things about the other. 

There was no doubt in Y/N’s mind that something was.. different when she talked to Jed. She felt safe, which was a new feeling for her since she had literally been hunted down and despised her whole life. She felt like she was able to talk to him about anything, though she knew she wouldn’t because of how bad of an idea it was, she still felt like she could. 

As the night went on Jed kept trying to figure out how he was going to tell Y/N that she was his mate. The one she was meant to be with forever. It’s not something to take lightly, and lord knows what a half witch, half vampire would think about this. Y/N would for sure thing Jed was playing another sick joke on her, something the pack put him up to. It was eating away at him on the insides, he just wanted to blurt it out and clear the air.

That’s kind of what happened.

Jed was about to explain everything to her, from why he was so mean to her on her first day, to the moment he invited her to eat lunch with him and the rest of his pack, to that very moment of the two teens sitting and enjoying a meal. That didn’t happen though. 

Somewhere around them there were pack members ready to pounce on their prey and ruin Jed and Y/N’s night. The girl from before, the one who had started trouble with Y/N in the first place, wanted revenge for being humiliated in front of the whole school. In the midst of her anger, she and a few other werewolves who weren’t too fond of the new girl, hatched a plan to completely ruin Jed’s wonderfully planned evening and to make his mate hate him forever. 

She nodded to her pack members as they emerged from a few bushes, all of them holding a dark colored liquid that resembled blood a little too well. As soon Y/N caught their scent she had stopped talking and narrowed her eyes at Jed. He was confused at first, and then he saw his friends. 

“Well, what do we have here?” The girl hummed. She swung the bottle around haphazardly, not having a care in a world what would happen if it splashes onto the two. 

Jed stood up in a protective type stance, his hands bawled at his sides. “What are you doing here?” Jed was pissed, that much was obvious. Y/N watched as they slowly became surrounded by the small group of wolves, all of them holding identical bottles. 

“Just came to see if you told your mate, what she is to you.” One of the other wolves sneered, “wanted to see if you told her the truth yet.” 

Y/N was beyond confused and looked at Jed with raised eyebrows, her arms crossing over her chest as she waited for a response. There was chuckling all around her as the wolves drew closer, encasing them in their circle. 

“It looks like you haven’t yet, have you?” They mused towards Jed, he looked at Y/N with a wary glance. Y/N looked at them, wondering if any of them were going to spit it out or not. They looked her dead in the eye as the opened up their bottles with a wicked grin. “He thinks you’re a nasty bloodsucker that he’s stuck with as a mate.” Without any further hesitation they doused the teens in a waterfall of the deep red liquid. It wasn’t blood, probably watered-down fake blood, but it still triggered Y/N.

Her dress, the one that wasn’t even hers to begin with, was now stained red as if she had just gone on a ripper rampage, she was just told this was all another joke and everyone basically thought of her as a monster. She couldn’t hold back anymore as her fangs released themselves and she made her way towards each of the werewolves.

The scene unfolding before Jed’s eyes could have honestly been from a horror movie with the way everything was moving. Before Jed had even realized, Y/N had put two of the werewolves on the ground in a whimpering mess. They were hurt, badly as it seemed to be. She took them out one by one, switching between her strength and then spells. She had the last wolf corned against the wall as they tried to back away from her as far as they could. Her hand wrapped around their throat, squeezing slightly as she growled at them, “You come near me again I’ll rip your hearts from your chests and use them as sacrifices, do you understand me?” Her voice was terrifying, menacing even. 

The wolf nodded as she threw him against the wall then skirted off with the rest of his pals. Y/N was never one to lose control the way she just did, but after all this torment from the wolves they needed to put into place. 

As if it was second nature, she calmed down with a few mumbled curses under her breathe before she turned to face Jed. This would not be easy to recover from. He saw her lash out, he saw what she could do and how utterly terrifying she can be. She was a monster, one that didn’t deserve a mate like Jed. 

The boy was still stuck in his original place, the blood drying to his clothes and staining them. Jed went to go move forward to Y/N, but in return she stepped back even more. She was trying to stop the tears forming in her eyes, though it seemed her body and emotions were getting the best of her. Jed looked sad, he felt sad. Why would his pack, his friends ruin this? They all go to same school, they all share the same walls of the school. Why was her being his mate so horrible to them?

Before Jed could even get a word in to Y/N they heard rapid footsteps approaching, turning their attention to the group of friends that stood behind them. Y/N turned around to look at their faces, sure that they’d all hate after how she lost her temper. 

“Oh my god,” Josie covered her mouth in shock as she looked at the scene. Though the wolves were no longer present, the blood stained clothes and tears in Y/N’s eyes said enough. 

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N whispered softly as she looked at the group, tears now falling freely down her cheeks. “They ruined the dress- I’m so so sorry. I can pay to have it cleaned, or buy a new one, I’m so sorry.” Y/N was rambling about something that didn’t even really matter, but yet she was still worried about it. 

Josie, Lizzie, and Hope walked towards Y/N as she stayed still in her place, not daring to move. “Y/N, we don’t care about the dress.” Lizzie said softly, “We wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 

At that moment she lost it, crying so hard her knees almost gave out below her. She shook her head rapidly, sobbing as loud as her chest would allow her to. “No, no I’m not okay. I don’t understand why they hate me so much, I haven’t done anything to them!” She exclaimed rather harshly. “I hate it here, I hate this.” She sobbed.

Hope looked at Jed who was still standing their quietly. The tribrid was giving him the death stare, and boy if looks could kill he’d for sure be dead. Jed was staring at his alpha, Raphael. He was begging for help, any help in fact. He didn’t like seeing his mate in pain, sobbing that she hated their school and possibly him. This was his chance to make up for what his pack had done the other day at lunch, but here they were again, his pack ruining everything for him.

Anyone with a good pair of eyes would be able to tell that Kaleb and M.G. were pissed beyond belief. Their eyes locked onto the young wolf, and if it weren’t for Raphael being there they would’ve ripped him a new one. 

Y/N turned towards Jed after a moment, her tears mixing with the dried fake blood, her mascara running down her face. “I no longer wish to be your mate.” She said in a dead tone. “I will not be treated like this, and if it is true that you are my... mate, I do not wish for this to go any farther.” She didn’t think that saying those words would have hurt as much as they did, but now she felt like she was having her crushed with a mallet over and over again. 

Jed’s heart fell to his stomach at her words. He was losing his mate, all because his stupid pack wouldn’t accept the truth. “No, no please I promise you they were lying. Not about you being my mate, that is true, but I don’t think you’re a monster. I want you as my mate, please.” Jed had managed to get within a few feet of Y/N and now she could see that he was also crying. Y/N looked down at her feet, refusing to look him in the eye.

“This was a mistake,” She mumbled towards so the ground, “it was all a mistake and I’m sorry it put you through so much trouble.” Jed’s heart was breaking, he felt like his life would end right then and there. Y/N turned back to her friends who were shocked that she had just ended with things, and more importantly that Jed was pleading for her to stay. 

Without another word Y/N began the walk back to the school, cloaking herself in the invisibility spell as she walked. The group followed, leaving Jed there in the dark to cry to himself. 

-

Days passed after that horrid night and no one had seen or heard from Jed and Y/N as the two had locked themselves in their rooms. They stayed there all day and night, only occasionally coming out to get food or shower.  

While the vampires and witches were trying to console Y/N and reassure her that she did nothing wrong and was not a monster, the werewolves were out spreading rumors about that night. She heard everything of course, between gossip and her advanced hearing, it wasn’t hard to miss

Jed wanted revenge. He was angry, pissed off beyond belief. These people were supposed to be his family, his pack, and they went out of their way to make his life a living hell so that he wouldn’t have his mate. No matter their reasons behind it, they were all probably insanely stupid anyways, he was going to get back at them for what they did and get his mate back. 

Most of the time he’d spend in his room he was hatching a plan to get back at his pack and teach them a lesson. He knew that practically all of the pack had not met their mates yet, the few that have had not gotten involved in the fighting over his mate. He’d hit them where it hurts and then go plead with Y/N to get her back. 

Meanwhile, Y/N was looking at other schools for the supernatural. She really didn’t need to be in a school for the supernatural, but she figured it’d be easier to go there then to a regular human high school. She no longer wished to be within the same walls as her mate, even if she barely knew him, having told him that she did not want to be his mate made her heart ache in ways she didn’t know were possible. 

Y/N’s music was playing softly in the background of her room as she looked at the dark web for the supernatural to find another school to go to. Any would be fine, there were a few out there, not a lot took heretics or mixed the species, but there were a few that did. Too lost in thought as she scrolled through a school in London had she missed the knock on her door. She ignored it, turning her music up a bit to drown out the person on the other side of the door, but unfortunately this person seemed very persistent. 

“Go away!” Y/N shouted to the person on the other side of the door. The knocking continued, making Y/N more agitated. She got up, slamming her laptop shut as she marched to the door and threw it open. “I said ‘go away’, do you not understand that?” She growled, her anger get the best of her and turning her eyes that vibrant purple. 

Jed stood there, mouth dry and heart racing. It took Y/N a moment to realize that it was him standing there and one her anger stopped blinding her, she shrank back a bit and stepped further behind the door. Jed was holding flowers and her favorite candy, the saddest most desperate look crossing his face as he looked at his mate. 

Slowly he held out the gifts as he stuttered out an apology, “I’m sorry for what happened the other night, I want you to know that and I want you to know that- that I don’t see you as a monster or anything like that. I see you as my mate, someone I want to be with until the day I die and I will do absolutely anything for you to understand that.” 

Y/N looked down at her slippers, the only shoes she had been wearing since that horrific night. “I- I don’t know, I don’t think this- whatever it is, would work. It’s just not in the cards for either one of us.” She mumbled as she was about to turn her back and close the door, but Jed’s foot got in the way of that. 

“Tell me you don’t feel anything, and if you don’t then I’ll leave you alone but I know you have to feel something.” His eyes were pleading for her to say that she felt something like he did, that she felt the connection but instead she shook her head and lied. 

 “I- I don’t feel anything for you. I’m sorry.” Before Jed was able to get out another word Y/N had the door closed and locked. The pain they both felt was enough to make them stop breathing for a few seconds. Both of them waited on their sides of the doors, hoping the other would continue to fight for their mating bond, but that is not what happened. 

Too much pain and heartbreak had been endured by these two teens, but there was still more to come..

[maddstermind]

I'm crying at some of these titles - but also Lemon Demon is making more sense now knowing you know Homestuck (this is a compliment btw, I'm adding some of their songs to my list (Knife Fight)) ANYWAY - pls tell me more about howie dies dot jpeg and 999 999 laughing for real right now- On a more serious note - we're doing it man, we're making this happen You've been updated to Warheads cause my face currently resembles sucking on one I'm losing my fuckin mind rn

Yes, YES, I highly recommend pretty much everything Lemon Demon has every done. Listen to Bustin', it's hilarious. (As far as I know, Lemon Demon/Neil Cicierega has nothing to do with Homestuck, but they do have a similar vibe lmao. Also I'm honored to be upgraded.)

OKAY WRITING THINGS YEEHAW.

howie dies dot jpeg Snippet:

President Howard Goodman sat at his desk in the Oval Office, alone. The orange light of the setting sun filled the room, silhouetting him with his back to the window. He was alone. He kept telling himself that.  There was no one else in the room, hadn't been for hours as he demanded to be left alone for the rest of the day, but he could not convince himself that he was actually alone. He felt watched. Every shadow out of the corner of his eye looked to be a person, or a beast, or some horrific fusion of the two. It was worth mentioning that Howard hadn't been sleeping well lately.

About: The other (joke) working title for this was "Howie's Hot Girl Summer." The real title was "I'll Find You In The Next Timeline." It was meant to be for the 2023 Hatchetfield Big Bang (which I host!), but I got swamped and wasn't able to work on it for long. It's a timeloop story about the (fictional) President of the United States, Howard Goodman. And also he's in love with the mysterious military man, General John McNamara. I'll probably eventually get around to finishing and publishing it. Someday.

999 999 laughing for real right now Snippet:

"When I meet my soulmate, I'll tell you about all the colors, okay?" Light teased her about how she'd be able to describe colors without using examples, but she was stubborn. She swore she'd tell him what colors were like. "Alright," Light ruffled her hair, "you better keep your promise, then." "I will!" She grinned, though he didn't see it. He didn't have too, though. He just knew.

About: This fic is from [claps] 2017! I always meant to get around to finishing it... It's called "Prism of Light," and its a Zero Escape soulmate AU, the one where you start seeing color when you touch your soulmate for the first time. It's Light/Aoi (Snake/Santa) and I only got about two chapters in, but it is on AO3 for the curious. (It's not very good.)

we're doing it man, we're making it happen Snippet:

At age nine, Max saw a picture of Mothman and decided that was what they wanted to be when they grew up, and they've been working towards it ever since. Their desire to discover the bizarre often led to them believing too easily — luckily for them, Lizzie was always there to balance the scales. While she also had a keen interest in the weird, she was more skeptical, thinking things through more thoroughly before deciding whether or not to believe them. Together, the two had spent their years of friendship exploring the island town of Saint Hazel, following every possible lead in hopes of finding any scrap of strangeness in the sanitized town. They'd had their fair share of successes, even if it was never anything as grand-scale as Max hoped.

About: The actual title of this one is "The Conspiracy Gang," and it almost belongs in the "mix of both" category. It's an original work that is based on a roleplay of Starkid's Hatchetfield series done by me and my friends; the main characters are/were our OCs for the universe, but I love them so much I wanted to write a version of their story on my own (with my friend's permission, of course!) Max is my character, and Lizzie belongs to my good friend @cosmic--static! I haven't gotten that far into writing it, sadly, because I've been so heavily focused on Auberon. But someday!!!!!! OH ALSO ITS A COSMIC HORROR STORY FORGOT TO MENTION LMAO

[nylarac]

pls clap i spent so long on this lol