#sorry about the wait as well!! hopefully this is alright

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty Five

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I AM SO FUCKING SORRY IT TOOK ME ALMOST TWO MONTHS TO UPDATE. I love you all for sticking with us through this terrible lull. But I promise(well hope to) not go so long in between updates again. Hopefully, it was well worth the wait.

Also, please let me know if the tags didn't work. Tumblr has been a pain in my ass with them lately and with how many of you wanted to be tagged, I want to make sure I didn't miss any!

FUCK YOU. EAT SHIT. KILL GOD. DETHRONE.

We are Fallenvvitch. Goodnight.

🪽🔮

Collaborating With: @thescarlettvvitch(better give her all the love as well)

Tags: @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @teenblues @bngurngheart @malice-ov-mercy @krisslee18 @xxkittenkissesxx @happi-goth @embracethereaper42 @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @bloody-delusion-expert @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @a1ex-ba1ex @sideeyenoah @emzandthevoid @badomensls @bellaboo967 @waake-mee-up @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave

READER

I hummed along to the tune that played on the speakers, swaying my hips, as I moved around the room helping Matt set up the equipment. 

“You don’t have to help, Y/N. You should sit and relax,” Matt said while I handed him a specific cord he was looking for to hook up to one of the speakers. 

I shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ve always been a workhorse so the idea of sitting on my ass while you all are working doesn’t feel right.” 

He smiled. “Have I mentioned that you and Noah are perfect for each other?” 

“Once or twice,” I shrugged with a hint of a smirk. 

There was a faraway look in Matt’s eyes, one I’ve recognized all too well; loneliness. 

“Hey,” I nudged him with an elbow. “Everything alright?”

He let out a long breath before adjusting his hat, keeping his eyes cast down at his laptop, the program he uses for mixing the songs up on the screen.

“Promise not to tell the guys? I don’t need them giving me shit for it,” he said. 

Immediately I nodded and crossed my heart so he continued. “I see what all of you guys  have and sometimes, a part of me wonders if I’ll ever get anything even close to it.” 

I frowned. “Matt, you will! I don’t want to sound cliche, but that person for you is out there. They’ll show up when you stop looking. Neither Noah nor I were looking for a relationship, and look where we are now. It wasn’t an easy or short road by any means but we got here.” 

“It might be too late for me,” he grumbled under his breath before clicking away at his computer. Just as my lips moved to say something, Noah’s voice came through the speakers in the room. 

“Angel, I love you.” 

My cheeks burned as I glanced over at him with a wide smile to which he shrugged. 

“I had to test if the microphones worked,” he said. 

“Right,” I giggled while walking over to the area of the room that was set up for band rehearsals. 

Bad Omens were going on tour in two weeks, the first one since they rebranded themselves with this new era. Everyone was nervous because they wanted to make sure everything went perfectly. Part of me felt sad and guilty that I wasn’t able to go on the first set of shows because Hollow Souls had media planned. 

That may be why I kept trying to help out any way I could with the rehearsals; to show Noah and everyone else that I supported them. 

However, I did plan on meeting Noah for the last three shows, which seemed to ease the sadness on his face. We’d only ever gone a few days without seeing each other since we got together, so now that we were about to go without seeing each other for nearly two weeks, my heart hurt. 

Cheesy, but it was true. 

Noah’s hands immediately found my hips and brought me close to him, my hands resting on his chest.

“What’s wrong with Matt?” He nodded behind me. 

I played with the strings of his Hereditary sweatshirt. We just watched the movie with Jolly and Astrid last night, and my brain was still swirling with the ending. 

“I think he’s starting to feel a little alone. He sees us, Jolly and Astrid, Jesse and Maxine, and starts to feel like he missed his time,” I said under my breath so others wouldn’t hear. 

The corner of Noah’s mouth pulled down on a line as he kept his eyes on Matt. 

“Maybe the tour will help clear his mind,” he said with a sad sigh. 

“Oh, about that,” I pulled the string of his hoodie again to pull his attention to me. “Are you still upset that I'm stealing Lana from you guys?” 

He chuckled before squeezing my hips. “No, angel. Hollow Souls need her more than Bad Omens do. Plus, she found a replacement for her so Bryan doesn’t have to do most of the photography. I think it’s Lana’s cousin.” 

“Good because Malcolm felt like shit. But we don’t have a full-time photographer and want to get these promo shots out as soon as possible. Lana accepted before she knew about your tour-.” 

Noah hushed my ramblings with a gentle kiss to my lips, one that we both smiled into. 

“Y/N, it’s alright,” he muttered against my lips.

Staring up into those almond eyes I loved so much, I eventually nodded and patted his chest. 

“Okay.” 

Linking our fingers together, Noah led me to the other end of the room where Davis was working on filling up the boxes of merch. 

“I want to show you the new look we have planned for our stage outfits,” Noah said. 

My eyes widened, almost forgetting that the guys talked about changing a lot with this new era. He showed me the pants, tank top, button-up shirt, and jacket; all black. But what kept my attention was at the top of the table, Bad Omens symbols calling to me. 

“Ski mask?” I questioned. 

Noah smirked while putting it on, those eyes darkening when I sucked in a breath. 

“What does the mask represent?” I now asked. 

“My vision,” he said while adjusting it. 

“Ah, yes the vision,” I emphasized while rolling my eyes playfully. 

Noah pointed to his head. “It’s all in my brain.” 

“You have a lot going on in there,” I chuckled but kept a careful eye on the mask, assessing it while feeling the burn ignite within. 

“When you don’t occupy over 95% of it,” Noah shrugged but then narrowed his eyes. “Is the mask doing it for you, angel?” 

Davis tossed down one of the shirts he was folding and began walking away, muttering something under his breath. 

“Can’t they wait until I’m out of the room?” 

I licked my lips, doing my best to appear not turned on by the image of Noah in the mask. 

“Maybe. But I still think you’re missing one thing,” I said with a low voice.

Somehow I could tell he raised a brow. “Yeah?” 

Slinking up closer to him, I raked my nails down the exposed skin of his neck while whispering over his lips. 

“Those grillz I found hiding in your bathroom drawer,” I nibbled on his bottom lip before walking past him, purposely putting a little sway in my hips knowing he was watching. 

For the next few hours, I watched them rehearse the new setlist they created for the tour. I stood next to Matt in his makeshift sound desk, every so often watching what he was doing, and when they started to rehearse The Death of Peace of Mind, I couldn’t help but smirk when I thought back to the memory of hearing the song for the first time. 

Noah must have been as well because as he moved in place with the microphone held tight in his grasp, his eyes met mine before winking. 

“I miss the way you say my name. The way you bend, the way you break. Your makeup running down your face. The way you fuck, the way you taste,” his angelic voice sang. 

“Woo!” I yelled while holding up a finger. 

Suddenly a warm hue crept over my face when I realized I had said that out loud and slunk farther down in the chair next to Matt. 

“Woo?” He asked with a teasing grin. 

“I don’t know,” I shrugged while playing with a piece of lint on my sweatpants. “It just works. Every time I listen to the song, I always add the woo.” 

Noah, whose own smirk was wide and prideful, leaned against the mic stand; they had stopped playing with my embarrassing outburst. 

“I like it, it’s cute,” he admitted. 

“Maybe you should do it on tour,” Folio suggested to Noah with a wiggle of his brows. 

Groaning, I gathered up my things before walking up to Noah and kissing him. 

“I have to go. I have my appointment with Dr. Poulos. I’ll call you after.” 

“Don’t forget about this weekend, angel,” Noah pointed a finger. 

I nodded with a pout. “Right, our super secret date that I don’t get any hints for.” 

When Noah bid me goodbye with a gentle pat on my ass, Jolly’s voice stopped me before I could leave. 

“Hey, Y/N?” 

“Hm?” I adjusted the strap of my bag. 

He scratched at the large bun of hair on top of his head. “Is your therapist seeing new patients?” 

“Are you interested in therapy?” I asked with a raised brow.

“No,” Jolly shook his head with a sigh. “For Astrid. The last couple of weeks, she’s not been herself. I think with the upcoming anniversary of her father's death, she’s taking it hard but won’t talk to me about it.”

My heart sank for one of my best friends. We just hung out last night and I hadn’t noticed anything was wrong with her. 

“Shit, I had no idea.” 

Jolly set down his guitar. “She hides it very well. I only know bits and pieces about what happened to her father but I think she had someone else to talk about it with, it would help her.” 

“Definitely,” I nodded. “I’ll grab a card from Dr. Poulos and put in a good word.” 

Jolly placed a kiss on the side of my head. “Thank you.”

NOAH

The songs of birds danced around us as I held tightly on Y/N’s hands, the waves crashing at the pier below us and she clutched something tightly in her chest. 

“You didn’t have to buy this for me, you know?”

Even though she tried to chastise me for spending my money on her, I knew from the smile on her face that she was happy to have a new wolf stuffed animal; one that mirrored the one I gave her back on our tour together. 

The one Trey threw out of the window of their tour bus. 

We spent our entire afternoon at the California Wolf Center, seeing different packs of wolves up close and learning about them. The smile that Y/N had on her face as she bent low in front of the fence to say hello to one of the wolves a few feet away from her made my heart flutter wildly in my chest. 

If I didn’t already know that I loved her, I’d probably tell her for the first time at that moment. 

After a long drive back into the city, we decided to walk onto the pier for some ice cream. 

“I want to take care of you, angel,” I squeezed her hand as I led her towards a bench on the white sand. 

We both sat and watched the waves for a few minutes while Y/N read her book. I had my arm wrapped around her, smelling the hint of vanilla in her hair and the floral scent of her perfume as it clung to her skin, and glanced over to the bench across from us. It was an older couple, the man reading a book to his wife, and I cocked my head to the left, something about them oddly familiar. 

“Angel,” I rubbed her shoulder. 

She hummed, not taking her eyes off the book she was reading. I glanced at the title when she pulled it out of her bag. 

The Dare by Harley Laroux. 

When I asked what it was about, Y/N’s face turned crimson before waving me off and muttered something about how I wouldn’t like it. But when I read a few sentences over her shoulder, I could see why she blushed. 

Something about the girl being bent over the guy’s lap in a movie room and getting spanked repeatedly. 

“Y/N,” I said her name this time, pulling her attention away from the book and up to me. “Haven’t we seen them before?” 

She followed my gaze over to the older couple and pursed her lips, trying to think if we had. 

“We have! In South Carolina. You joined me at that cafe when I went to order all of us coffee that day on tour. They were walking ahead of us.”

Suddenly the light clicked on and I nodded when that day crept into my mind. I’d been so nervous to be alone with Y/N at the time but being so close to her in line and having her scent engulf me for the first time told me that she would sink herself deep inside of me. 

“What are the odds,” I muttered with a smile. 

“He’s reading a book to her,” Y/N mused. 

I dragged my fingers up and down her arm while gazing down at her. “Do you think he’s reading her a dirty book like the one you’re reading?” 

She smacked my chest causing an uproar of laughter from me.

“Are you going to get me some ice cream or what?” She raised a brow with a playful smile. 

I brushed a kiss along her forehead. “What kind?” 

Y/N tapped her chin in mock thought. “I’ll take a fudgsicle, please.”                                                                                                         

With a sweet kiss on her lips, I let her by herself with the wolf stuffed animal and book and walked over to the concession stand, noticing a long line already. 

It was a cool autumn day and everyone wanted to spend the last few hours of daylight outside. I, however, needed to waste another hour until we were able to head back to my house. As the line moved up slowly, I glanced down at my phone to read the last text conversation in the group chat with my roommates. 

Michael: Where are we supposed to stay tonight? 

Jesse: I’m staying at Maxine’s and Jolly’s staying with Astrid. 

Michael: Oh way to rub it in. I guess I’ll bunk with Malcolm and Chase. 

Me: Salem misses you 😂

Michael: I swear, if that cat bites my feet again in the middle of the night, I’m going to drop him off with you guys. 

Jolly: Everything is set up, Noah. We’ll be out of the house in an hour. 

Jesse: I don’t want to know what you have planned tonight but all I ask is please don’t touch my strawberries. They’re from Matt’s garden. 

I laughed while stuffing my phone back into the pocket of my gray sweatshirt and moved forward in line. My hood was up and pulled low over the brim of my hat, making it hard for anyone to recognize me. We’d been fortunate enough all day not to be bothered by fans but now seeing how busy the pier was, I wanted to be extra careful. Y/N and I had yet to make our relationship public and we were hoping to keep it as quiet as long as we could since we were becoming very private people. 

As the line shifted again, I noticed the older gentleman was now standing in front of me. With a quick glance back over to the seating on the beach, I saw Y/N still reading her book then realized the older woman was by herself, only to realize that her husband was standing in front of me, muttering something about the prices under his breath. 

 “That will be $5.95,” the younger woman smiled. 

“My lord, how times have changed. What do we expect in this economy?” He said.

I stifled a laugh behind my hand as I rubbed at my jaw. “You’re not kidding.” 

The older man patted the pockets of his tan jacket and then his pants. “I seem to have forgotten my wallet. Here, let this young man go ahead, I think my wife has my wallet.”

While reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my wallet and waved to the worker behind the booth. 

“I’ll get it. Can you add a fudgesicle and vanilla cone, please?” I asked with a smile. 

As the worker went to work about getting my ice cream, the older man turned to look up at me; literally. 

“Oh, my. You’re a tall fella, you must have eaten your vegetables when you were a kid,” the man adjusted his glasses. 

“I’m a fan of tomatoes,” I shrugged with a laugh. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he nodded towards the concessions where the worker handed him his two vanilla cones. 

“It’s not a problem,” I smiled at the worker after dropping a twenty on the counter, telling her to keep the change.

“You’ve got a name, son?” The older man asked as we both began walking back towards the beach. 

“Noah,” I answered after a lick of my ice cream. 

The burst of vanilla bean pleasured my taste buds and exploded in my mouth. It reminded me of something I’d like to try later.

“Well, I’ll be,” he chuckled. “That’s my name although I had it a lot longer than you, but-.” 

He waved me off but then pointed to the exposed tattoos on my fingers. “So what do you do, Noah? You have those tattoos all over and a cool haircut. Let me guess. The arts?”

I nodded with a grin. “Yes, sir. You hit the nail right on the head! How about you?”

“Ah, what can I say? I know a thing or two about predicting things. And I’ve worked quite a few different jobs in my lifetime. Restored an old house and made an art studio for my sweetheart, even got myself in the paper. But now, the two of us are here on vacation.”

We came to a stop right where the sand and concrete met and Noah smiled while pointing over to the bench I first noticed them. 

“That’s my Allie over there. Do you have a sweetheart, young Noah?” 

“I do,” I grinned. “She’s sitting right over there, the one with the book and wolf stuffed animal.” 

Old Noah’s tired eyes drifted over to where Y/N was sitting, the wind blowing through her hair, and the sight of her looking so at peace made my heart swell. 

“You know,” I shifted on my feet. “We’ve actually seen you and your wife before. It was a few years ago at a coffee shop in South Carolina. It’s a little place called Palmieri.” 

Old Noah’s eyes widened. “Well, I’ll be. What a small world. There’s no way I’d remember a name like that.” 

I licked at the chocolate ice cream that ran down my hand from Y/N’s fudgesicle and shrugged. “It’s a place that means a lot to me.” 

“How funny is that?” Old Noah’s chuckle shook his whole small frame before giving me a wink. “If I learned anything over my lifetime, Noah. It’s that fate will always prevail.”

I couldn’t help but make a face at that, only because I was becoming such a private person so it shocked me that this older man could understand parts of my life without giving much away. All of the odds and chances were starting to feel very Twilight Zone. It made me feel vulnerable and shocked that things from the universe were real. Everyone had been saying it ever since I walked off the bus on the first day of the tour and shook her hand for the first time. 

Y/N was my soulmate and I was hers.

Old Noah must have caught the look on my face and patted my shoulder. “Don’t go too far in your head, son. It could be hard to get out of.”

“Yeah,” I muttered under my breath. 

“Well, all I’ll say is hold your sweetheart close, Noah. A woman like that is hard to come by. I promise, if the two of you treat each other right, you will live the best life together.” 

I nodded with a smile. “Thank you, sir.” 

Old Noah took a few slow steps before glancing back toward me. “Thank you for being so kind, Noah. You don’t see that much anymore. Have a great rest of your day.” 

“You too.” 

I made sure to watch as he made it back to his wife, slowly sitting down next to her and handing her the ice cream cone. There was something in the way she smiled at him; almost as if she was trying to remember something. 

Then, I glanced over to Y/N, who still had her face buried in her book with a deep crimson hue covering her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Whatever she was reading in that book had her flustered in ways that made her pull at the collar of her shirt and shift in her spot on the bench. My eyes cast downward to her wrist, the metal chain catching the setting sun and I peeked down at my own. A sudden flash of a hospital bed appeared in my mind but was gone just as quickly. 

Shaking it off, I reached Y/N and handed her the fudgesicle. 

“Thank you, mochi,” she beamed at me after setting her book down. 

We ate in silence for a few moments until I noticed a strand of hair falling into her face, nearly into the ice cream, so I brushed it away and tucked it behind her ear. 

“Your hair. It was going to get sticky.” 

She left a kiss on my cheek, the butterflies in my stomach having a whirlwind of a time. 

“You’re always taking care of me, Noah. Are you going to get ice cream out of my hair even when we’re old and gray?” Y/N asked. 

I pressed a cold kiss to her forehead. “That’s the plan.” 

Old and gray. 

“How do you think I’d look old and gray?” I wondered after finishing off my ice cream cone. 

“Oh, handsome as ever and wearing a black cardigan. I bet you’ll still have the Levi cut,” she mockingly teased, resting her head on my shoulder. 

The sounds of the waves crashing ashore and laughter from the families and variety of couples brought a weird sense of calm to my ever-racing mind and heart. I did my best to heed Old Noah’s advice to not get so far in my own mind and right now, with Y/N by my side, it made it easier. The last couple of years hadn’t been easy for either of us, especially the times we almost lost each other due to our own fucked up style of communicating. But because of therapy, we were learning and growing. 

When I watched a couple, no younger than us, splash each other in the water, I was reminded of a time, long ago, when Y/N and I did the same. 

"If you were a bird, what bird would you be?" She asked when she came to a stop in front of me. 

"Well," I ran a hand over my chin to show I was thinking deeply about this question. "According to the fanbase, they see me as a duck so I guess that."

"I love that! Oh, you know what would be funny?" She grinned. 

I shrugged. "No, but I have a feeling you'll tell me." 

"When you scream to Dethrone, you should be funny by saying this is dethrone you quacks, instead of fucks. It'd be a way of showing the fans you read everything online," she deadpanned before falling into a fit of giggles and looking up to the darkening skies above her. 

Seeing how much that small joke made her laugh made me make a mental note to say that next tour. 

"What about you? What bird would you be?" 

"A crow," she answered so fast, almost as if she thought about this question in depth before. "They’re mysterious, they’re misunderstood and always take care of the ones they love.”

I hummed with her answer. "I can see that. You'd make a lovely crow." 

She bumped her shoulder with me as the waves crashed harder around us. "You'd make a pretty cool duck. And we'd be bird friends." 

"Well," I glided my hands through the water. "If you're a bird, then I'm a bird."

“Angel,” I asked, pulling her attention away from her book. 

“Hm?” 

“If we were birds, would we be bird lovers? Because last time, we were bird friends,” I said. 

The corners of Y/N's lips curled up in a smile as if the memory was replaying in her mind like a movie. 

“We’d be the best bird lovers,” she breathed with a kiss on my lips. 

Wrapping my arm around her, we let the silence fall between us again, truly enjoying this moment together. Ever since we both released new albums, our work schedule had been packed with constant media or preparing for the upcoming tour. This was a rare weekend where we all had off so neither of us was in a rush to leave. 

Well, until I got a text from Jolly letting me know that the house was empty. 

“I think there’s a fireworks show tonight at the pier,” Y/N said while looking at her phone. 

Fireworks at the pier. 

“Noah! Stop!” Y/N giggled while wrapping her arms around my neck.

“What?” I stopped spinning. “Let you go?”

She shrieked as I nearly dropped her. “No, you idiot! Don’t let me go!”

As if I had just been slapped in the face, I sat up straighter when everything clicked into the constantly moving puzzle pieces inside my mind. 

“It’ll all connect, everything!” I muttered while chewing on my bottom lip. 

“Conjuring magic there?” 

Y/N’s giggles snapped my head towards hers as I did myself to calm my thoughts so she could understand. 

“Remember at breakfast when Jolly and I were telling you our future plans for Bad Omens?” 

She nodded, a pretty confused look on her face. “Yes?” 

“The comics, the music videos, all of it. It’ll connect,” I rambled on my idea when she still looked at me confused. 

“So, the covers would be what ifs?” Y/N asked after a moment.

I snapped my finger with an eager nod. “Yes, exactly!” 

There was still hesitation on her face as she turned to face me head-on, fingers meddling with the chain around her wrist. 

“Just Pretend? Don’t you think it kind of gives away the elusiveness of everything? Of us?” Y/N wondered. 

“Not at all, angel. Let me explain,” I linked our fingers together and then went about spending the next couple of minutes explaining my grand idea. 

READER

Oh. My. Gods. 

I came to a halt in the middle of Noah’s living room, all of my breath stolen by the bright and colorful sight in front of me. On every living room and kitchen surface were bouquets; of different sizes, colors, and kinds. On the mantle of the fireplace was a large purple bouquet of Violets. On the end table next to the couch was one of blue orchids. Spread out along the kitchen island were three large vases of pale pink peonies. Besides the flowers, candles were lit and spread out throughout the open space. 

Words felt foreign on my lips as I looked at all the other array of flowers, feeling the tears well up in the corners of my eyes and my throat burned when I tried not to let out a sob. 

“Noah,” I choked while turning to look at him. “What is all of this?” 

He was leaning against the front door with an apprehensive look on his face. Immediately, I could tell he was nervous with how tense his shoulders were. 

“We never spent Valentine’s Day together,” Noah stood up straighter and cleared his throat when it cracked. 

“But it’s March,” you giggled. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. But I wanted to give this to you. I’m trying to make up for our lost time together.” 

I walked over to the bouquets of Violets on the mantel and breathed in the sweet scent. “Do each of these have a significance?” 

This seemed to break Noah out of his nervous stupor because he took off his hood, shaking his hair before coming over to me. 

“I’m glad you asked, angel,” he smiled. “The orchids and peonies represent love and admiration in Asia. The violets, also known as the Sumire, represent life and sincerity. Its small size and delicate nature represent deep affection for someone. These flowers are very important in Japan.” 

You hummed while plucking one out of the face and twirling it between your fingers. 

“Can you guess which ones are my favorite?” 

When Noah shook his head, I plucked another one from the vase this time tucking it behind his ear. 

“The violets because my affection for you runs deep. But I think you already knew that,” you pecked his lips. 

Noah gave me a bashful smile while casting his eyes down at our feet, a crimson hue coloring his face. So I cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at me, and I could feel the nervousness almost burn my palm. 

“Mochi,” you breathed. “You’re more nervous now than when you showed me my art studio.”

He rubbed at his cheek before motioning to the flowers around us. “I’ve never done this before. Dates and being romantic. I guess I want everything to be perfect. You deserve it.” 

I brought the flower that was held between my fingers up to his nose, brushing it over the freckles there which in turn, made Noah scrunch up his nose with a quiet chuckle.

The sight of him like this, bashful and giggling, made me weak in the knees so I kept myself up by grasping at the pocket of his sweatshirt. 

“Noah, it’s just me. You don’t have to do all of this or be nervous. You know I’d be perfectly fine with a simple rose stem.” 

“It’s not just you, angel. It’s all of you, everything I do now is for you. I want to make you happy,” he said while locking his hands behind my neck. 

“You do make me happy, mochi,” you professed while playing with the flower behind his ear. 

“I know,” he nodded assuringly. “But I-I didn’t have a chance to express how much I love you and want to take care of you. You mean so much to me and whatever I can do to prove that to you, I will.” 

His smile was slanted slightly and his cheeks were still flushed as he twirled a piece of hair around his lock fingers before locking them behind my neck again; keeping me in place. 

Not that I minded. I had no reason to leave. 

“I know. I love you for it,” I kissed those lips that always tasted light and sweet, like honey. All I could taste now was how unbitter it all was. 

There was no goodbye. 

All him, all sweet. 

“You’re adorable like this, mochi. Bashful every time we kiss.” 

He playfully rolled his eyes before capturing my lips again. “Laugh it up you little brat. I need your lips like I need oxygen.” 

Little brat. 

Those two words made an inferno burn deep within my core and I let out a soft moan. Titling up my chin with slight defiance at him, I gave him a teasing wink. 

“Why don’t I show you how much of a little brat I can be?” 

My breath fanned over his lips, a tease to his words, then when something dark flashed across his eyes I knew that I had less than three seconds to create some distance between us. My laughter echoed through the space of Noah’s house as his loud footsteps chased after me. I ran from his living room, through the kitchen, and into his bedroom with his tall presence hot on my ass. 

I wanted him on me in more ways than one. 

Once inside his bedroom, I stayed on one side of the bed while Noah stood on the other, both of our chests rising and falling trying to catch our breath. His hair had become disheveled in our chase and it was falling into his face, him not making a move to brush it back. Those dark eyes stared me down through the even darker tendrils and my stomach flipped when Noah cocked his head to the side. 

“I’m waiting,” he held out his hands to the side. 

I raised a brow. “For what?” 

“For you to show me how bratty you can be,” the speed at which his tongue snapped out to wet his lips was astonishing. 

A devious smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth before I made quick work of stripping out of my clothes, letting them pool at my feet. I stood in front of Noah in nothing but a pair of crimson panties. 

“Angel,” Noah’s voice rumbled deep in his chest. 

“What?” I shrugged, innocently. 

These were his favorite pair of panties. He always raved at how they stood out against my skin tone. 

“I can smell you from here,” his nostrils flared. 

“You cannot,” I scoffed while placing my hands on my hips, purposely cocking my left hip out. 

Noah didn’t say anything, instead, he hooked a finger and beckoned me over to him. I shook my head with a wicked gleam in my eyes. 

“I’m actually kind of tired,” I stretched my arms wide, faking a yawn. “I’m going to take a shower.” 

As I stepped around the bed, Noah’s quick reflexes met me halfway causing me to scream and I jumped up on the bed to get away from him. I made it two steps on top of his bed until his strong arms wrapped around me from behind, tackling me to the bed. 

“Angel,” Noah grunted while thrusting his hips into mine. “You’re such a tease.” 

I bit back a moan. “I’m not doing anything.” 

“Really?” His long finger grazed over the lacey material of my panties, teasing my clit. 

This time I was unable to hold back the moan especially when his finger slipped underneath my panties to now gather my arousal to my clit. Noah’s teeth grazed over my collarbone, tasting me and humming in approval. 

Until some noise from his computer went off and made him groan before climbing off the bed. 

“What is that?” I asked while resting up on my elbows. 

Noah clicked on his mouse a few times. “Orie wants me to get in a game with him.” 

Suddenly, a thought came to mind and I tip-toed over to Noah, wrapping my arms around his chest from behind. 

“Play a game with him,” I breathed against the shell of his ear. 

He turned his head to glance at me over his shoulder, holding my hands against his chest. “Y/N, I can tell him no. It’s fine.” 

I shook my head with a wink. “Play a game with him, Noah. Make sure the camera is off and strip down.”

His cheeks turned a deep shade of red, almost mirroring the color of my panties before I urged him to follow my orders with a swift pat on his ass. While he accepted the game invite from Orie, Noah stripped out of his clothes and sat in his computer chair. 

“Don’t forget the headset and these,” I said while rummaging around the box underneath his bed before tossing one of the objects over at him. 

I had a box of almost the same things underneath my own bed back at home.

Noah caught what I threw him mid-air, the golden lenses catching the light from the LED lights in the room.

“I haven’t worn glasses in months, Y/N. Why would I need them now?” He questioned with a slight slant on his lips while twirling the gold round glasses between his fingers. 

Rolling my eyes, I stuffed the box back underneath his bed. 

“Wait,” he pointed a finger. “How long has that been under there? And why were my old glasses in there?” 

“Noah, please,” I semi-wined while running a hand through my hair. “Can you just-?” 

With a wave of a hand to the glasses, he eventually understood why I wanted him to put them on. 

“A little role play?” He teased while putting them on. 

I sucked in a breath at the vision of him in front of me. I’d seen streams and pictures of him wearing these glasses with his long hair and I thought he was breathtaking in them. 

Now with his short Levi haircut and all of his tattoos on full display for me, Noah somehow managed to be even more gorgeous. 

With the headset on, he fell onto the computer chair and spoke into the microphone. “Hey, Orie. Yeah, I got a little bit to play a round.” 

Once I slipped out of my panties and tossed them on Noah’s pillow, I held the black rose sex toy in one hand and when I reached the corner of the bedroom where Noah had his computer set up, I froze in place. His cock was thick, almost standing straight up with how he was sitting and I bit my lip when I watched precum ooze out of the slit. 

I noticed he was already in some game with Orie, his fingers working fast on the keys and mouse, so I pressed a finger to my lips. 

“Be quiet now, Noah. We don’t need to let Orie know what we’re doing,” I whispered while straddling him on his chair so he was able to see the computer monitor. 

“Y/N,” Noah warned. 

Ignoring him, I ripped open the condom and slowly rolled it over his cock which made him let out a low noise from his chest. 

“Shh,” I hushed while clamping a hand over his mouth. “Not so loud.” 

My stomach burned with arousal, igniting a part of me I never knew existed. My sex life had improved with Noah and I was able to find out new kinks. What we were about to do, sex with someone possibly hearing was new. I knew that Noah wouldn’t let Orie hear anything but even the thought of him hearing something turned me on. 

“Is that Y/N?” Orie’s voice sounded from Noah’s headset. 

I winked as Noah’s eyes darted from the computer monitor to me. “She’s yelling at Salem. We have him here tonight and I guess he’s being too loud or something.” 

“Wow,” I mouthed, proud of how well he came up with that lie. 

With his hands preoccupied, I adjusted myself over his cock and locked eyes with him as I sunk deep on to him. My groan caught in my throat at the fullness of Noah’s cock in my pussy. It felt fresh and new every time. 

I cringed a little from the pain due to my endometriosis but as soon as I started moving up and down, the pain began to subside. Noah’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he tried his best to keep his attention on his computer while I rode him, slow at first. 

“Angel,” he let out quietly through gritted teeth. 

Ignoring him, I flipped on the black rose, the vibrations sounding loud in the quiet room and when I touched my clit with it I wasn’t able to keep that moan quiet. 

“Fuck,” I dragged out while leaning my head back. 

“What’s that?” Orie’s voice asked through Noah’s headset again. 

“It's so good,” my body writhed against Noah’s. 

He quickly said goodbye to Orie before exiting the game and ripping off the headset. My squeals bounced off the walls when one of Noah’s hands snaked around my throat, using his thumb to hold my chin straight. 

“Such a fucking brat,” he hissed when I rolled my hips over his cock. “What if he heard you? No one is allowed to hear those pretty little moans. Just me.” 

I whined when he pulled the rose away from my clit, immediately missing the friction. 

“I didn’t-,” I was unable to finish my words because Noah wrapped his other arm around my back to pull me closer to his chest, the head of his cock hitting that spot. 

He bit down on my breast, right above my nipple, and I cried out in pleasure. 

“I should punish you,” he rasped, voice gone with lust, and began pulling his cock out. 

“No, no. I’m sorry,” I shook my head and desperately tried to stop him. 

Noah raised a brow while tightening his grip around my throat and pushed his cock in deeper. “You’re sorry?”

I did my best to nod in his grasp. “Y-yes. Please, I need you to move again.” 

He hummed and buried his face in the crook of my neck, breathing me in. His pace didn’t increase, instead, it was even slower than before. It was as if he wasn’t even moving and I let out a groan of frustration. 

“Do you know how long I wanted to fuck you in this chair, Y/N?” 

Noah flicked his tongue over my nipple. “I’ve sat in this chair and thought of you so many times. My hand wrapped around my cock and pictures of you up on my screen.” 

My stomach flipped at his words, the image he painted beautifully on the canvas of my mind. 

“Were you wearing these glasses?” I motioned to them with a raise of my brows. 

“This doing it for you, angel? My glasses?” He chuckled before moving over to the other nipple, mimicking the same actions as before with his tongue. 

Every one of my senses was burned alive. It was like this every time Noah and I were connected; our souls becoming one. 

My nails scraped along his scalp as I pulled on his hair, yanking his head back so he could gaze up at me, our pace always in sync. 

“You could wear a mask and it would still do it for me,” I moaned while rolling my hips against him. 

“I can make that happen,” he promised before crashing his lips to mine in a hungry kiss. 

It was one of pure adrenaline, his tongue fighting mine for dominance and his teeth sunk deep into my bottom lip. I shook in his embrace when I felt the vibrations of the black rose against my clit again. 

“No-Noah,” I cried in ecstasy when the familiar heat spread to my core. 

“Good girl,” he praised in between devouring my mouth. “Say my name again.” 

“Noah,” I sang when my orgasm was on the crest, begging me to let go. 

His cock was fucking into me with absolutley no remorse. The chair beneath us was creaking and I was sure we’d break it at any given moment. My breasts were pressed tightly against his chest and the sharp metal of his chain digging into my skin added more blissful pain. My body was pulled tight with tension, knowing any moment I would snap. 

“You know what to do, angel,” Noah spoke huskily as his cock twitched inside of me when he smacked my ass. “Don’t make me fucking ask.” 

Locking eyes with him, I cried out my orgasm as my body writhed in his tight grasp, and Noah created some space between us to glance down where our bodies connected. It was wet, more than usual, and his eyes snapped away from the soaked condom and lap. 

“Angel,” his voice was deep, dropping an octave. “Did you just squirt?” 

I couldn’t speak; my orgasm took every single ounce of energy out of me. Instead, I nodded while resting my forehead against his chest and smacked away the vibrator that was still held against my clit. The aftershocks were too much and I was afraid of crumbling in his embrace. 

“So,” Noah grunted with a thrust. 

“Fucking.” 

Thrust. 

“Hot.” He growled out his release, spilling into the condom, and held me tighter against him. 

Gentle fingers grazed up and down my spine, as we both came down from our highs and I hummed in delight when Noah’s lips pressed a kiss to my forehead. 

“I don’t think I could ever sit in this chair again without thinking of you,” he mused with a light chuckle. 

Sitting up straighter, I tapped his cheek. He was still wearing those glasses and it made my pussy clench over his slightly limp cock. 

“I wonder what else we can fuck on in your house to make you think of me,” I joked before climbing off of him. 

Noah’s fingers gripped tighter into the flesh of my hips to keep me in place and he winked. “Let’s find out.” 

The next morning, I woke to gentle kisses down my spine and I smiled in my sleep haze. 

“Mm, good morning,” I grumbled into the pillow as I tucked it deep under my chin. 

“How’d you sleep?”

Noah’s gruff and sleep-filled voice made my stomach twinge but then I internally groaned when the pain from last night started to creep back into my bones. 

“I’m still sore after last night,” I sighed while turning over in bed to face him. He was freshly showered, with water droplets clinging to his hair, and wore clean clothes. 

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asked while brushing away the mess of hair from my face. 

I shook my head with a lazy smile. “Not at all. I wanted all of that.” 

To reassure Noah, I kissed his lips tenderly; my essence still lingered. 

“Hungry?” He asked after pulling away. 

“Starved! Someone kept me up all night,” I exaggerated while sitting up in bed, clutching the sheet to my naked body. “I’m going to shower quickly.” 

 Ten minutes later, I stepped into the kitchen just in time to see Noah. I could see the blood rushing to his soft and full cheeks, as he continued talking with the guys who had gotten home. The mortification of knowledge was evident.

Jolly, Michael, and Jesse. 

“What’s going on?” I asked while stuffing my hands in my hoodie pocket. 

Taking a closer look at Jolly, a bright red material that was hanging loosely on his shoulder caught my attention and I stifled my gasp behind my hand. 

“Why was your swimsuit top hanging from the ceiling fan?” He questioned. 

My eyes darted to Noah. “I thought you said you cleaned up!” 

“I might have missed a few things,” he held up his hands in defense. 

I ran inside, giggles bouncing off the walls, as Noah chased me and nearly slipped on the kitchen floor due to his wet feet. 

“We can’t fuck in the Jacuzzi, Noah! The guys use it too,” I stood on the other side of the large kitchen island with my hands on my hips. 

Noah wore a wicked smirk. “They won’t know, angel.” 

I untied my swimsuit top and threw it up in the air, catching it on the ceiling fan in the kitchen. 

“If you catch me, you can fuck me where ever you want.” 

Michael came down the stairs with a troubled look in his eyes. “Why is there a folder on the computer in the studio labeled Y/N private?” 

“Oi vey,” I pinched my eyes shut while Noah rubbed my back. 

“You didn’t open it did you?” He asked. 

“No,” Michael shook his head but then his shoulders dropped. “Do I even want to know?”

“Louder! Say it louder, angel!” 

Noah grunted as he thrusted his cock into my pussy with such force, I screamed into the microphone. 

“Noah! Don’t stop. Please!” 

“Who do you belong to?” He demanded to know, sinking his teeth deep into my shoulder. 

“YOU!” I cried out with my orgasm. 

Jolly sighed while falling onto the couch and rubbed a hand over his tired eyes. 

“Everything alright?” I questioned while sitting next to him. 

He gave a half shrug. “Last night was rough for Astrid. She kept waking up with nightmares.” 

My heart dropped, knowing that her father's death was bothering her more than she would admit to anyone; even Jolly. 

“Has she talked with Dr. Poulos?” 

“No,” he ran his hands over his long thighs. “She told me she’ll reach out when she’s ready.” 

I patted his shoulder. “I’ll stop by Fika today and chat with her. I’m sure she’d like that.” 

Jolly smiled. “Thanks, Y/N.” 

The sound of rummaging around the fridge and a loud gasp made me turn my attention towards Jesse, who was holding up an empty crate. 

“My strawberries!” He exasperated while running a hand through his curls. “These were from Matt’s garden. Did you guys have to eat all of them?” 

Noah and I shared a look. “Sorry, man. They were delicious.” 

“Noah,” I breathed while pulling on my bindings. 

The cool granite beneath my warm skin brought shills to my body. I was laid spread out wide for him on the kitchen counter, blindfolded, and hands tied up above my head. 

I couldn’t see him but felt when he bit into the fruit, its juices spilling over my clit, then his warm tongue was there to clean it up. 

“Fucking divine,” Noah groaned. 

Jesse tossed the empty container in the trash before grumbling something under his breath while sitting on the couch opposite Jolly and I. Noah was finishing breakfast. When Jolly shifted in his spot next to me, my heart leaped in my throat when I saw what he had in his hand. 

“The mask, huh?” He smirked. “Didn’t think you’d be into the yellow one.” 

“NOAH SEBASTIAN!” I bellowed. “Did you just stuff the mask in the cushion hoping no one would find it?” 

He didn’t respond, simply humming along to the tune in his head. 

Michael began cleaning up the scattered mess on the coffee table when something fell out of the small black bag in his hand. 

A set of shiny grillz. 

“So good,” I murmured while running my hands through Noah’s hair as I lay on the coffee table. 

His dark almond eyes looked up at me as he continued the onslaught on my pussy with his tongue. The richness of his eyes stood out against the stark contrast of the yellow mask he wore. When he grazed his teeth over my clit, I hissed in slight pain. 

“Shit, mochi!” 

“Sorry, angel,” he whipped at his mouth, the shiny grillz on his teeth catching the light overhead. 

The slight pain turned to arousal at the sight of him and I pushed his head back towards my clit. “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Are those,” Jolly leaned closer to Michael. “Are those your show grillz?” 

“Fuck, they still look wet!” Michael dropped them to the table. 

I groaned while sinking further into the couch, hiding my face behind my hands. 

“Alright,” Noah sighed while setting down the spatula and I noticed his ears were beet red. “You guys are embarrassing Y/N! So I missed a few things, sue me.” 

“I’d like to,” Jesse grumbled while crossing his arms. “Ate all my strawberries.” 

“It’s alright,” I reassured them with a smile. “I’m sorry about the mess.” 

Micahel stomped up the stairs. “I need to take a shower to scrub out the images of you and Y/N fucking all over the house.” 

Standing up from the couch, I walked over to Noah and laid a soft kiss on his warm cheeks. “I think after breakfast we should head to the farmers market. Buy Jesse some replacement strawberries.” 

“Might as well invite Matt,” Noah suggested. 

I shook my phone in my hand. “Already on it.” 

As I helped Noah set up the table with the breakfast spread he cooked, neither of us heard the conversation between Jolly and Jesse; who were watching us with a smile. 

“You do know that when she moves in, it’s going to be like this all the time right?” Jesse chuckled. 

“Yeah, but look how happy Noah is. He deserves this,” Jolly said. 

NOAH

I bounced on the soles of my feet with excitement as I waited in the lobby, hoping to find that familiar face in the crowd of people. Y/N was joining me on the road for the last week of the tour and after being away from her for two weeks, my soul was yearning to feel complete again. This was the longest we’d gone without seeing each other and all of our Facetime calls paled in comparison to actually seeing her beautiful face. 

Throughout the crowd, a spot of aquamarine hair rushed past, only to stop when she recognized it was me. 

“Hey, Bryan said you were handing out the key cards?” The woman adjusted the camera bag over her shoulder while gripping her suitcase with her free hand. 

Our photographer fill-in for Lana. 

She tried to give me a small smile but knowing what she’d gone through the last two weeks, outside of work, I couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt for what I was about to do. It’d been a plan of mine and the guy's since the other day, hoping it would fix the issue that had been plaguing her. 

“Yeah,” I pulled out a familiar keycard, one I had just handed to Matt moments ago, and gave it to her. “We’re thinking of dinner and karaoke tonight if you’re interested.” 

She tucked a strand of blue hair behind her ear. “Y/N’s coming, right?” 

I couldn’t stop the goofy smile that spread to my lips. “Yeah, she should be here any minute.” 

“Cool, count me in. No offense but I’m sick of all the testosterone,” she giggled before giving me a wave and heading over to the elevators. 

“If this plan doesn’t work, I’m going to lock them up in a closet to resolve whatever they have going on,” I muttered under my breath. 

“Talking to yourself, mochi?” 

Swirling on my heels, I gazed down at Y/N who was smiling and wearing the communal gray Chief sweater. 

“Hi, angel,” I quickly wrapped my arms around her and breathed in her familiar scent. 

Y/N buried her face in my chest and her hands dug at the back of my shirt. “I’ve missed you.” 

Tilting her chin up, I left a deep kiss on her lips, not caring if anyone around us saw. 

“I missed you too,” I brushed my nose along hers, and with my arm wrapped around her, I began leading her toward the elevators. 

“You dyed your hair?” I asked as we stopped in front of the closed doors. 

She wrapped her arms around my midsection and squeezed. “My roots were coming in and I needed it to look fresh for the photos. But speaking of hair colors. The girl you were talking to, was that-?” 

I nodded with a sigh. “Yep. They’re still not talking though.” 

As we stepped onto the elevator and the doors closed behind us, I held onto Y/N’s suitcase as she looked up at me, still wrapped in my free arm. 

“Did you do what I suggested?” Y/N asked. 

“Yep, they’re sharing a room right now. So if we hear yelling they’re most likely working things out,” I said while stepping off the elevator and heading towards the hotel room. 

“YOU’RE INSUFFERABLE!” 

“REALLY? LAST TIME I CHECKED, YOU LOVED IT WHEN MY LIPS WERE ON YOURS!” 

Y/N came to a stop in front of our door and pointed to the room next to ours. “I’m guessing that’s Matt’s room?” 

“Yep,” I popped the ‘P’ as the door clicked open. 

Once we were inside, I let Y/N get settled with unpacking her things as I lounged on the bed to watch with a loving gaze. Sometimes I couldn’t believe that after everything we’d gone through to get to this point, Y/N still wanted me. 

I fucked up; a lot.

I made mistakes but those mistakes didn’t make me. 

I fought with myself, with her, with others, to finally get here. To finally have Y/N as mine and secretly in that moment, I vowed to continue to prove to her how much I loved her and how much she meant to me. 

A buzzing on the bed pulled my gaze away from Y/N’s beauty and saw her phone lit up with a message. 

“Can you check it for me?” She asked before stepping into the bathroom. 

Mom: Y/N, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the last week. Call me. I have something important to talk to you about. You can’t be busy with this job of yours so call me back. 

“It’s your mom,” I informed with furrowed brows. “She’s been trying to get in touch with you?”

Y/N sighed while plopping down on the bed next to me. “Yeah. It’s probably she got a new job or met some new guy that she's going to get bored with after a week. It’s nothing important.” 

I’d known Y/N for years now and I also knew when she was keeping something from me. 

I brushed away the hair that fell loose from her bun. “Is there something else going on? You know you can talk to me, angel.” 

Her eyes shone as she gazed up at me, laying a soft kiss on my palm. “I know, mochi. I know. I just don’t feel like getting lectured right now. I’m finally here with you, I don’t want her to ruin it.” 

“Alright,” I eventually nodded, and for the time being ignored the way her face fell when she deleted the text message from her mom. 

Y/N motioned to the wall opposite of us, where Matt’s room was. 

“Do you think they’ll hook up?” 

I snorted a laugh. “What’s with you setting up our friends?” 

She shrugged. “I just want him to be happy. I want our friends to have what we have.” 

“So you’re saying you’re happy?” I rested my forehead against hers, breathing in the familiar scent of her peach body wash. 

“I am very happy,” she breathed before kissing my lips. “What about you?” 

“Very,” a kiss to her lips. 

“Very.” 

Another kiss. 

“Happy.” 

Another kiss. 

When her giggles filled the room, my heart stuttered in my chest. “I love you, Y/N.” 

She twirled a strand of my hair around her finger. “I love you too, Noah.” 

I laid there with her in my arms for a long time, the never-ending silence becoming a bit of comfort to us. We could lay next to each other for hours, not saying a word to each other, but we both knew how much we loved each other. 

“Oh before I forget,” Y/N removed herself from my tight grasp, and her voice carried from the bathroom. “I brought some facemasks. I thought we could stay in and relax. I know you have a long day of rehearsals and the show tomorrow.” 

Facemasks. 

Hotel room. 

Suddenly there was a vice grip around my throat, caging in the oxygen I was desperate to take back. Its large claws dug into my jugular, making the room tilt on its axis. I couldn’t center on my breathing, I couldn’t focus on anything in front of me. 

“I didn’t bring any nail polish this time,” Y/N’s giggle barely broke through the haze. “And I can’t braid your hair.”

Nearly stumbling over the suitcases on the ground, I rushed past Y/N just as she stepped out of the bathroom and let the door to the hotel room slam behind me. The air in the hallway of the hotel was thicker, nearly making it impossible to catch my breath. The tight grip around my lungs and heart would not let up. 

"I know what I feel. It’s not you, it’s me, Noah."

I shook my head furiously when the past began to creep in.

"No. Fuck, angel! Stop! The future hasn't even happened yet. Please, don't-what do you need to happen?"

Y/N’s bottom lip trembled as a broken sob clawed its way through her throat. "I-I think we need to remain friends right now. I can't-I can't get lost in you, Noah. It's so fucking easy to. I think we need space."

How she looked that night, moments before leaving me, continued to haunt me. 

"I-I don't fucking want that, Y/N. I just want you!” My voice bellowed.

"Noah, please understand where I'm coming from," she begged.

"Angel-I. Please, just-," I eventually sighed in defeat.

Her broken eyes shined with her tears. "I'm going to head out."

I dug my palms into my eyes as I stood in the middle of the hallway, trying to stop letting my mind fall back into the past. All it took was two fucking words and I was back to that shell of a man I used to be. 

Face masks.

I immediately flooded to where I was before all this. I felt like a scolded child with aging wounds.

Embarrassing. 

Why did I just do that? Why did I leave the room for air? When the air I needed was back in the room? The emotional hurricane was in full force today. On the surface, it’s joking and light, but then it wants to pull me into the vortex. With each jibe, I feel the winds clipping wings of my own. I can’t allow it. 

I refused. 

I won’t circle the fucking drain. I began to feel my body relax and my voice flowed out calmly, instead of me being pulled in. 

I decided I needed to inhale the air I could never survive without.

“Keaton,” I cried softly while rubbing at the ache in my chest. “I need you, man. Please tell me everything will be alright.” 

With the feeling of someone holding me upright, a soft breeze blew through my hair in the middle of the hotel hallway. A door down the hall opened, catching my attention immediately was a man wearing an all too familiar band t-shirt. 

Too Close To Touch.

Along with the soft touch encasing me, I let out a quiet hum as a haunting flow of lyrics poured out of me. 

“If you still want to sing, fill in the blanks we need. You can do it through me while you're gone.”

Then as quickly as those arms wrapped around me, they were gone and I felt alone in the hallway. But not before a soft voice whispered in my ear. 

It’s okay.

Knocking on the hotel room door, realizing I didn’t have my key, I saw Y/N’s dark eyes staring daggers into me. All that inner rage inside those beautiful eyes made the guilt for walking away from her eat away at me even further; I deserved it. 

When the frustration builds and I think I might explode, I have to remember to take a deep breath. So many times I’ve wanted to say things, or say anything. It was a long process with learning how to deal with it. 

Her nostrils flared as I gently walked past her into the hotel room. Y/N needed to hear my explanation. I was ready to move forward. Reaching for a life I so badly yearned for with her. Here she was, in front of me. She was mine and she loved me. 

Say something, you idiot!

“Angel-.” I began. 

“What the fuck was that?” She whipped her head back at the door.

Oh shit, she’s mad.

The voice in my head didn’t sound like mine. Instead, it sounded like an old friend. 

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out on you like that. It’s just when you mentioned face masks and braids, my mind went back to a place, a darker place,” my hands shook as I stuffed them in my sweater pocket. 

The anger in Y/N’s eyes vanished when it clicked for her what moment I was talking about. 

“Mochi,” her voice wavered. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to go back to that night. I know how hard it was for you, for both of us. I just thought we could recreate that night, the positives, and make up for the negatives.” 

I linked our hands together to pull her into my chest, laying a chaste kiss on her lips. 

“I’m ready to create many positive memories with you, angel.” 

“Good,” she gave a small nod. “But next time something like this bothers you, please talk to me. Because you can't just run from sadness when it gets too hard to stay.” 

“Really?” I snorted. “You’re using my lyrics on me?” 

“Did it work?”

I wanted to kiss that hopeful smile off her face. 

Instead, I winked and then pressed my hips into her, my cock brushing along her pussy. “You tell me.”

“You know,” her fingers danced through my hair. “I do miss a few things about that night.”

I cocked a brow. “Yeah?” 

Y/N stood on her tiptoes to brush her lips across mine. “I missed how I rode your cock while pulling on your braids.”

I shook my hair in her face. “You can still pull, angel.” 

With one quick scoop, I had her in the air for a few moments before her body fluttered to the bed like the angel she was; her giggles bouncing off the walls. I was on her in a flash, attacking her lips with mine. Ravishing them like a man starved, wanting to lick up every last drop of the meal put out in front of him. Her tongue always molded perfectly with mine and Y/N hummed in delight when she tasted me. 

“Shit, mochi,” she moaned while arching her neck back as I attacked the sweet spot between her shoulder and neck. 

My cock twitched underneath my sweats and I rutted into her thigh. “Angel, I missed you.” 

She reciprocated the feelings by kissing me again and slipping her hands underneath my sweater to drag her nails down the tattoos on my stomach. I shivered under the touch, loving the feeling of the burn her nails left behind, and I stripped her of her clothes, me following suit—all the while our lips never left each other. 

Her skin on mine felt like the wings of an angel; soft and almost incandescent. 

Her lips were like honey, sweet and sticky with gloss. 

The arousal that I gathered with my fingers and sucked clean had a lingering tangy taste, something I found myself wanting more of. 

A scent and taste that was distinctively Y/N. 

“I love you,” I vowed in between kisses while I pumped my fingers in and out of her, using my other hand to lock her hands above her head.

“I love you,” she keened when my knuckle brushed over that spot. 

The last time we shared a hotel bed, it ended with two broken souls, desperate to be molded back together. They spent months yearning to find each other again and now that they were connected again, we both refused to let something so minuscule as face masks ruin it. 

READER

“Noah, stop!” I giggled when his lips brushed along the shell of my ear.

“Please, angel,” his gruff voice begged as his arms wrapped around me from behind. 

I turned in his embrace, linking my fingers behind his neck, and marveled at those almond eyes I adored so much. 

“No, Folio and Michelle are going to be here any minute,” I reminded him. 

Noah adjusted the glasses on his nose with a pout. He woke up this morning with irritated eyes and not wanting to make it worse with contacts, he opted to wear his glasses. 

Not that I minded, it reminded me of the time in his computer chair. 

The tour ended a few days ago and now that all of us were back home, we decided to meet up at the local aquarium so Folio could finally introduce us to his girlfriend. But Noah, however, had other plans; ones that involved us sneaking into the backseat of his SUV so he could fuck my throat. 

Tempting. 

“He’s been talking about introducing us to Michelle for two months now, are we sure today is the day?” Noah asked. 

I shrugged while pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I think so. Look how nervous he looks!” 

Both of us gazed over to the other end of the lobby of the aquarium where Folio stood alone, hands shaking at his sides. We could practically see his heart jumping out of his chest due to his nerves. 

“He’s never been this nervous before,” Noah murmured. 

“Can you blame him? Look what she’s about to walk into,” I waved a hand at our large group. 

Chase and Malcolm were looking at the large tank in the lobby that housed a variety of fish. Chase had his hand on Malcolm's lower back as he whispered something in his ear. 

Jolly and Astrid stood a few feet away from us, a small smile pulling at her lips when he braided her long white hair for her. 

Jesse and Maxxine stood with Davis, Michael, and Matt, conversing about something we couldn’t hear. But I watched with careful eyes as Matt’s gaze kept darting back to one certain area in the lobby; where a blue-haired girl was currently talking with Bryan. 

Most likely about cameras.

When Matt’s eyes locked with mine, I motioned with a finger over to the girl but he rolled his eyes playfully before going back to talking with Michael.

Nicholas had sauntered up to Folio, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

There were a lot of us in our group but we were family. All of us. 

“Folio! How did you and Michelle meet?” Davis questioned when all of us met in the middle of the lobby. 

“At the Harley shop,” he chuckled, his earring shaking with the rumble of his body. “She wore her Motley Crue shirt and these cheetah flare suede pants. Her lips were red as fuck, I’ll remember those lips anywhere.”

All of us could hear the dreamy tone in his voice when he spoke about her and how the first thing that caught his attention was how she stood up to the man behind the counter who almost refused her service because he thought she didn’t know anything about bikes. 

“I thought she was going to kick this guy's ass until I stepped in. We hit it off right away and she asked if I wanted to visit this Mexican ice cream shop around the block,” Folio smiled. 

Just then someone walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around him, and I could see all the nerves slip out of his fingers. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips with a kiss. 

Michelle smiled, showcasing off those red lips. “Hi, cinnamon.”

“Cinnamon? Really?” Matt teased when Folio’s cheeks turned a deep crimson. 

“Everyone, this is Michelle. My girlfriend,” he said with a proud smile. 

While all the introductions happened, I gave her a big welcoming hug, I left Noah with a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Where are you going?” He pouted while reaching for my hips again. 

I giggled and playfully smacked his hands away. “I’m going to talk to Matt quickly.” 

Immediately Noah understood and dismissed me with a gentle pat on my ass. I found Matt standing a few feet away from the group of girls, his own dreamy smile on his face as he watched her carefully. 

“Hey,” I tipped the rim of his hat. “It’s rude to stare.” 

“Like you’re the one to talk,” he playfully shoved me. “With all the staring you and Noah did before you got together.” 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Very funny, Dierkes. I just came over to see how things are going with a certain fairy?” 

Suddenly as if she heard me speak of her, that familiar airy laughter reached Matt, who clutched at his heart. 

“I’m so fucked,” he admitted with a slight lift of his lips. 

[castformation]

Galarian Ponyta/Rapidash Fun Facts

Though lone Galarian rapidashes will often flee when confronted by humans, they become extremely aggressive when their foals are involved, and are prone to lashing out in a very dangerous way. This behavior likely developed in response to the ancient practice of hunting Galarian ponytas for their horns, which were said to have magical healing properties. Though this practice has been outlawed for centuries and is no longer commonplace, Galarian rapidashes are still fiercely protective of ponytas; for this reason, visitors to the Glimwood Tangle that hope to catch a member of the line are encouraged to seek out solitary specimens rather than scouting for herds.

Galarian ponytas are both capable of sensing the intentions of humans, and very wary of approaching anyone that is actively seeking them out-- another result, most likely, of Galar’s ancient horn-hunting practice. Because of this, it’s often said that they, paradoxically, can only be found by those that aren’t looking for them.

Galarian ponytas or rapidashes with Kantonian ancestry display unique coloration, with coarse manes that take on hues ranging from sparkling orange to magenta. This “sunset mane” is considered highly desirable by some due to its unique beauty, and has resulted in several breeding operations with a focus on breeding between the two subspecies. However, these crossbred equines often seem to lack STAB for one or even both of their types (or any type, for that matter), a common issue faced when crossbreeding different varieties of the same species-- making them inferior battlers when compared to their standard Galarian or Kantonian counterparts.

Though Kantonian rapidashes are capable of reaching higher galloping speeds, Galarian rapidashes are much more prolific jumpers, and at times seem to “glide” short distances when jumping-- a feat no doubt aided by the Psychic energy stored in their hair and feathered fetlocks!

The hair of the Galarian ponyta line can glow for weeks or even months after falling out, depending on the psychic power of the specimen in question. It’s not uncommon for trainers to turn any discarded locks of hair into temporary keychains due to their colorful, sparkling qualities.

Due to their relatively small size, emotional intelligence, and their ability to easily understand the needs of their trainer, Galarian ponytas make for absolutely stellar service animals-- as would Galarian rapidashes, if not for their significantly larger stature.

Like many Fairy-types, the Galarian ponyta line possesses a powerful sweet tooth! Though feeding them exclusively sweet foods is certainly not recommended, an occasional snack of fruits, berries, or even sugar cubes will easily pacify most foals. They’re also very partial to mint.

Galarian ponytas and rapidashes are known to greatly enjoy soft music of the classical variety. One recent viral video features a small herd of them approaching a harp player in the woods, the latter of whom remained totally unaware of their equine audience for the entire duration of the herd’s stay-- the performer in question apparently only noticed their presence when editing the footage the next day.

[backwardsbread]

Hazbin Hotel Characters:

Forgetting an anniversary

A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—

Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.

Not really proofread

I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—

Lucifer:

To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.

This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.

You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.

For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.

He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.

So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.

When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.

However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.

You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.

Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.

(And he is)

He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.

All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.

It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.

This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.

“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”

Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.

This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)

Vox:

Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.

This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.

He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.

The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.

(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)

So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.

He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.

He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch

A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.

His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.

The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.

But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.

(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)

Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.

Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;

“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”

“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”

“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”

“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”

He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.

Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.

By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.

And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.

His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.

To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.

He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.

(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)

Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.

Alastor:

He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.

You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.

But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.

Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.

He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.

He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.

(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)

He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.

Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.

He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.

Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.

He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.

He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.

He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.

You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.

And this absolutely gets under his skin.

Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.

Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.

Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.

Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.

You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.

You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.

Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.

(At least that’s what it felt like)

The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.

“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”

Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.

But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.

Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.

His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.

(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)

He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.

The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.

He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.

[landitolover]

𝒈𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒄𝒂𝒓, in which, if charles didn’t care for you, maybe a specific red bull driver he doesn’t really like, will.. part one here! ౨ৎ max verstappen x famous!reader

INSTAGRAM DMS

maxverstappen1 replied to your story

maxverstappen1

hey, i’m sorry about the break up

charles never deserved you though

yourusername

haha it’s okay

he didn’t do anything wrong though 😊

it was a mutual break up

maxverstappen1

ohhh, alright

that’s nice to know 😃

TWITTER

IMESSAGE , MAX & LANDO January 4th, 2024

max

Lando

lando

Max 🤔

Rare text, what do you need mate?

max

by any chance do you have yns number

lando

oh my god do you

finally have the balls to (attempt) to pull her

max

i’ve always had the balls :/

charles just beat me to it

lando

he was quite charming

max

he’s a cheater, he isn’t very charming

lando

thats why i said ‘was’

max

ok but do u have her number

lando

duh? we’re like this🤞🏼

it’s xxx-xxx-xxx

max

okk thank you very much

lando

of course mate

goodluck you’ll need it

also u will be talked (possibly made fun of)

about in the gc. so be careful..

max

uhm ok mate

bye….. 😃

INSTAGRAM

yourprivate

Liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, landonorris, and 122 others

yourprivate new year, new me 💆‍♀️

fuck🖕🏼men 🤮

January 14th, 2024

View all 14 comments

alex_albon yk damn well ur the biggest lover girl

→ yourprivate uhmm wdym? i’m not

landonorris i know something u dont 🤫

lilymhe its okay baby 😔

→ yourprivate 😔😔💖💖 ily

georgerussell63 wake up

→ yourprivate get out my private bitch 🤮

→ georgerussell63 cunt

→ yourprivate something u never serve..

danielricciardo wow this post ate 🎀

danielricciardo it would eat even more if u reactivated the main

→ yourprivate i’ll be back in like 9 months

→ landonorris HOLY SHIT ARE U PREGNANT

→ yourprivate NO??? WHAT??? WHY WOULD U THINK THAT???

→ landonorris coz u said 9 months and thats like how long it takes to give birth Idk

→ yourprivate u are so slow gn

IMESSAGE , MAX & YOU January 14th, 2024

xxx-xxx-xx

are you a rose?

cause i think you’re a catch 😉

yn

oh my god 😂 that was such a sucky

pick up line.. who is this? 😭

xxx-xxx-xxx

your future boyfriend, hopefully

yn

how’d u get my number though

i rlly hope you aren’t a stalker 😭

or i’m gonna contact the police

xxx-xxx-xxx

WAIT NO 😭

it’s max

i’m sorry lol

yn

oh my god 😭

i didn’t see u as the corny pick up line type

you changed this contact to ‘max’

max

what can i say?

also sorry for freaking you out

i asked lando for your number, i hope you don’t mind

yn

nah its fine 😭

max

are you okay though?

you deactivated, saw it all over twitter

yn

yeah no, i’m ok

well not rlly but I don’t wanna like .. talk about it

max

that’s totally fine

but if you ever need someone to talk to

i’m always free

and i have cats so.. free therapy

yn

thats how u get the girl !

max

charlie should have taken some notes

unsent message

haha i guess i know how to get you now ?

yn

you’re a flirt aren’t you

max

only for you

yn

😭😭

i’ll be back in a minute someone messaged me

max

alright

IMESSAGE , CHARLES & YOU January 14th, 2024

don’t respond

hi angel, can i come over?

i miss your kisses, cherie

can’t we get back together

yn

no we can’t

charles stop it. i don’t want you

you’re the one who cheated on me

if you were going to miss my kisses so bad, why’d you cheat?

don’t respond

it’s a new year though, new us.

yn

no charles

you need to get over it

i mean, i did

don’t respond

get over it? you deactivated on everything

that isn’t getting over it. you’re avoiding your problems

yn

yeah I’m avoiding you, you’re my biggest one

get a new girlfriend

it obviously isn’t that hard for you..

Delivered

INSTAGRAM

yourprivate

Liked by landonorris, alex_albon, lilymhe, and 102 others

yourprivate men suck….. (i think he’s cute)

January 17th, 2024

View all comments

lilymhe u better not be talking about ch*rles

→ yourprivate no

landonorris is it ***

→ yourprivate 🤔🤔🤔???

alex_albon i thought u weren’t a lover girl

→ yourprivate i’m not

→ alex_albon caption says otherwise

georgerussell63 yw for the cake

→ yourprivate thanks georgie 😊

INSTAGRAM

charles_leclerc

Liked by carlossainz55, pierrepasly, arthur_leclerc, and 1,309,192 others

charles_leclerc overrated

January 23rd, 2024

View all 1,099 comments

user ohh ik yn is laughing at his silly ass

user he’s going dark 🖤⛓️

user he wanna be aesthetic so fuckin bad

user this is not it ‼️ archive this post ‼️

user yeah, ur overrated

→ user we luv a self aware king

user not everyone dragging him in the comments 😭

→ user cause we all love yn 💆‍♀️

lewishamilton be so fr you have no sense of fashion, m8 😂

carlossainz55 🖤

landonorris yeah this post is not ittttt

alex_albon alright mate….

danielricciardo who did not cheer! 😂😭

pierregasly 🔥

TWITTER

TWITTER

IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU February 14th, 2024

max <3

hey :)

happy valentines 🤍

yn

hii maxie

happy valentines! 💌

max <3

i bought you a little something

since you love snoopy

and me 😉

yn

you got one thing right

max <3

wowww

nevermind then

yn

kidding 🙄🙄

max <3

i’m picking you up

is an hour enough time

yn

yess

see you sooon 😊🤍

max <3

🤍

IMESSAGE, “YN FANCLUB 😊” February 15th, 2024

landoooo

how much r we betting that he did it

alexito

£100 he didn’t

lil 🎀

£100 he did

landoooo

i’m team he did it

georgie

he aint do shit 😂🔥

i’m team he didn’t do it

lil 🎀

is alex holding u gunpoint ???

landoooo

facts

max isn’t a pussy he def said something at least

yn

hi guyyyyssss

what are you guys talking about

georgie

we’re betting on ur little bf

did he ask you out

lil 🎀

ok wow 😭 straight to the point

yn

he did 😊😊😊

lil 🎀

HOLY SHIT

HAHAHAA

ALEX, GEORGE,

landoooo

PAYYY UPPP!!!! 💰

alexito

GTFOOO

georgie

🔥🔥 my ass is not paying

yn

u better pay them

also £100 is crazy???

look at what he got me 🥹 and he’s such a cutie

lil 🎀

SNOOPY 😭 I WISSHH

so down bad

🥹🥹 the cutest

yn

i cried 😔 he’s adorable

alexito

u guys are so cute

i hope it lasts!!

landoooo

daniel asked if u bringing back the main

cause like ur happy now

yn

2025 my year

plus u guys are in my priv why does it matter

georgie

right lmfao 😭

congrats on the bf though 🥳

hopefully he doesn’t turn out like our

good ol’ friend charlie!!!!

alexito

mate sthu

respectfully

georgie

wow that makes it a whole lot better, thanks m8

lil 🎀

how about u both sthu

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, redbullracing, and 1,220,218 others

maxverstappen1 and here’s to my baby :)

June 3rd, 2024

View all 1,101 comments

user didn’t expect a soft launch from max fuckin verstappen 😨

user HELLO???

user this girl has style.. dressing him up? 😍😍

→ user I noticed the style change, didn’t expect all this tho

user i just know shes hot

user stop soft launching i need to know who it is

danielricciardo lucky man

→ maxverstappen1 i am very lucky

landonorris cutie

→ maxverstappen1 😘

→ alex_albon it’s official: lando is the one getting soft launched

→ landonorris shhh people aren’t supposed to know

lilymhe she’s the loml

georgerussell63 🤮🤮🤮

→ maxverstappen1 get out - the girl

→ georgerussell63 🤓🤓☝️☝️

IMESSAGE, MAX & YOU June 13th, 2024

max <3

the sunset is in two hours

i’m picking you up

and we’re going to the beach to watch it

yn

😭😭 okay max

max

see you soon :))

yn

yeah, i love you 🤍

max <3

say that again in person

not over text 🙄

yn

okay max 😭😭

max <3

i love you though

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

Liked by lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing, charles_leclerc, and 103,021 others

maxverstappen1 starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights.

June 13th, 2024

View all 1,001 comments

user AAUGGHH IM GOING CRAZY

user why are the captions so romantic… secret artist ? 😨

→ user lol she’s probably writing them for him

user charles gtfo 😭😭

user i love them (idk who she is)

landonorris 4 months tmr cutie 😍

→ maxverstappen1 i love you baby 🥰

→ user 4???? WHAATTT

alex_albon tell her to stop talkin abt u bro 🤦

→ maxverstappen1 no can do buckaroo

redbullracing our driver sure has some pretty good captions

lilymhe my gf 💖💖

IMESSAGE, CHARLES & YOU August 5th, 2024

don’t respond

you aren’t smart

yn

huh

don’t respond

you’re dating max?

is this just some petty thing ? cause i don’t like him?

yn

uhm no lmfao 😭

yeah i’m dating him though

don’t respond

is he better than me?

yn

yeah lol

100%

don’t respond

you know, he isn’t really the type to commit

yn

noted ? pretty sure he would’ve left by now

if that were the case lol

don’t respond

ok.

yn

lmfao.

You have blocked this person

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)

Liked by landonorris, redbullracing, alex_albon, and 2,871,292 others

yourusername 🎀

October 1st, 2024

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user OH MY GOD

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→ yourusername mwa 😚

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maxverstappen1 last slide kinda kinky

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→ user LMFAOO

landonorris ooooo let the light innnn

georgerussell63 odd post for ur first one back

→ yourusername sthu

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

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yourusername redbull is my fav btw

October 8th, 2024

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user her smile ☹️🤍

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charles_leclerc drink company’s don’t suit u

→ maxverstappen1 lol

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→ user embarrassing urself...

redbullracing 💙💙💙

→ yourusername 🩵

landonorris papaya better actually ☝️🤓

→ yourusername errmm 🤓

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, landonorris, lilymhe, and 3,110,210 others

yourusername i want to wear his initial on a chain ‘round my neck.

October 10th, 2024

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user m.. suspicious

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user shes so cutesy

user IS THE CAPTION A LYRIC HELLOOO

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landonorris mmmmmmmmmm 3️⃣🏆

→ yourusername sthu😭😭😭

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→ yourusername IT WAASSS

danielricciardo my bf guys

→ yourusername 😍 -m

redbullracing 🐐🐐🐐

TWITTER

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yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, landonorris, redbullracing and 3,101,119 others

yourusername new ep soon. 6 songs. ‘solo, tiwwchnt, ciwyw, dbm, sdg, and getaway car.” i hope u enjoy it.. out the 12th ! <3

November, 4th 2024

View all 5,110 comments

user i’m in a getaway car too queen

user “and here’s to my real friends” 2019 rookies & lily 🥲

→ yourusername my babies 4eva

user DONT BLAAAMEEE MEEE, LOVE MADE ME CRAZY 😩

user who cried and screamed listening to this album

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user AHHHHHHHH

user thank u for yn’s not so mystery man but thank u for this ep ☝️☝️

landonorris used to being the GOAT

→ yourusername 🐐

danielricciardo getaway car on LOOP 🔂

maxverstappen1 but would u run away with me ?

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→ yourusername thanks pretty princess

→ georgerussell63 nevermind

alex_albon lily and i will be listening on repeat

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1

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maxverstappen1 you said you love me, i say something back.

November 14th

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user THE CHARLES SHADDEEE

user oh my hod. i adore them.

user ugh they’re the most bf gf couple ever

user charles could never LOOL

user these pictures im on the floor

user they’re my endgame

lilymhe she’s so cute in these pics

→ maxverstappen1 she’s always cute

danielricciardo FAVS

landonorris when they solo >

→ maxverstappen1 you’re the reason why i’m with her, thank you 😄

→ landonorris of course mate

christianhorner congratulations! happy for the both of you 🍾

georgerussell63 this is so goat coded

→ maxverstappen1 wow thanks

yourusername happy 9 months baby 💋

→ maxverstappen1 ik houd van je 🤍

→ user NINE. MONTHS.

→ user STOP NINEE…😭😭😭

yourusername wow we’re so adorable

arthur_leclerc thank you for making yn happier than my brother ever did 🙏🏼

→ maxverstappen ofc m8

→ user LMFAO EVEN HE’S TIRED OF CHARLES

౨ৎ finally… i posted… so SO so sorry for not posting in awhile, this took so long to post but 😭😭 here u gooo…. also thank u guys so much for 400 !!! i love u all <333 💋

taglist: @landovilla @moneygramhaas @ch3rryknots @amoosarte @1655clean @dark-night-sky-99 @kortneej81 @he6rtshaker ౨ৎ

[xhoneygirlxx]

WANTED U

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader

summary: when your date is ruined by your best friend, can you stay mad at him when he reveals a secret you've been dying to know?

warnings: fluff, slight angst, Eddie is deep in his feels, two idiots in love. Minors DNI 18+ ONLY! mentions of drinking, Eddie gets drunk. swearing. p in v, creampie (wrap it up kiddos), fingering, body worship and praise. Reader's race/ethnicity is not mentioned! she/her pronouns used. Both Eddie and Reader are in their twenties. Also not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing!

*if I miss anything please let me know!

a/n: Hi honey bunnies! I just want to thank @ali-r3n for this really cute idea! I'm so sorry it took me forever to post and I'm sorry about the shitty writing! Smut is not my strong suit and I've been plagued with the horrible writers block, so I hope this is okay! I hope you like this and thank you for being so wonderful and patient <3

All you wanted to do was to go on one date. One singular date. For the first time since your high school prom, you were going out with someone who was interested in you. A tinder match that led to multiple conversations, that led to having drinks, to hopefully going back to his place for a well needed time in the sheets. 

That was the plan for the night. Then your phone started to blow up with phone calls and texts, an apparent SOS that couldn’t wait. So you had to cancel, mid-date, telling your date that there was a family emergency. You knew walking out of there that Jordan wouldn’t text you back or ever take you up on the second date offer. 

It wasn’t like you were heartbroken over it, however you were a little bummed. The whole reason you even got on the dating app was because you were trying to get over your best friend. Eddie Munson stole your heart at the age of fifteen and had yet to give it back. It was a sick cycle that you have been going through for nine years. 

You were the lovesick best friend, who just couldn’t take the hint, following him around like a lost dog. Eddie had you wrapped around his finger and you didn’t care. Canceling plans just because he wanted to see you, doing whatever he asked just because, and never dating with the hopes of him finally falling for you. 

Those dreams were fruitless however, because Eddie didn’t see you as anything more than a friend. All the pining and unrequited love was killing you, a slow painful death that would put medieval torture devices to shame. It’s not like you could blame the brown haired boy, it’s not like you can pick who you fall for, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it would happen. 

So therefore you took the giant leap and put yourself out there, trying to ease the ache of your heart. In the end you ended up in Eddie’s apartment, helping him in his drunken state, get to bed. The emergency that Jeff blew your phone up for, was this. A night out with the guys turned into Eddie getting belligerent and refusing to leave until you came and got him. 

The whole car ride there you were disappointed in yourself, the whole reason for your dumb date was to stop yourself from running to the rescue every time he called. You were annoyed and heavily frustrated with the outcome of your night. It almost felt like the universe was against you, whatever god above watching you and laughing every single time you failed to move on. 

As much as you wanted to hate the grown man sitting in front of you, you simply couldn’t. His whiskey colored eyes round and glossy, nose and cheeks rosy with the heat of alcohol coursing through him, and his hair messy from the cold night wind. He was so pretty and it was hard trying to stay mad at him, especially when he had a deep dimpled smile adorning his face.��

“Alright Eds, I need you to change out of your clothes.” You say sweetly, the pile of his pajama’s hanging in your hands. 

Following your instructions, he tries to lift his shirt over his head, only for it to get caught on his head. “Sweets, I need help.” He sounds like a helpless child trying to tie his shoes, and you have to stifle a laugh. 

Placing the change of clothes next to him on the bed, you swiftly pull the stuck fabric off of him. When his head is released, he shakes his hair out of his face so he can see you. A childlike wonder flits in his eyes as he looks at you, admiring the way you’re being so gentle. 

A small thank you is whispered, you hum in response as you pull the new shirt on him. His eyes close as you gently tug his arms through the hole, soaking up the amount of attention you give to him. It feels like you’re changing a newborn, so docile and content with the way you handle him. 

“Can you take your pants off yourself or do you need me to help?” Your voice breaks his sleepy demeanor, droopy eyes looking up at you. 

“You gonna buy me dinner first?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he playfully smirks at you. 

“Ha ha, very funny.” You deadpan, yet your heart beat picks up at his innuendo. 

Surprisingly, he’s able to take his bottoms off and replace them with the pair you picked out for him. Pulling the jewelry off his wrist and fingers, you place them hastily on his bedside table. His eyes follow your every move, like a curious kitty watching their owner. Pulling back the covers on his bed, you gently lay him down and prop his head up with pillows. 

“So you have your bottle of water right here,” You show him by picking it up off the table where it’s sat, “And the bottle of Tylenol is right next to it. Now if at any moment you feel like you have to throw up, the garbage can is right next to you on the floor. Okay?” 

Humming to you in understanding, he closes his eyes once more. When you think he’s about to pass out, you turn on your heel to grab clothes for yourself. Not getting far, his big hand wraps around your wrist gently, bringing your attention back to him. This time his expression isn’t as content or happy. No, his eyes are glassy with unshed tears and his bottom lip jets out in a pout. 

“Please don’t leave.” It’s a whispered plea, innocent and childlike. 

“I’m not leaving Eds, just grabbin’ some clothes to change into.” Even with your assuring smile, he’s still frowning at you. 

“Please just, don’t leave.” Tugging your arm slightly, he brings you closer to the bed. 

“Eddie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” You’re now concerned with the state of your best friend and why he felt the need to beg you to stay. 

“Promise? What about Jacob?”

“Eddie, what are you talking about?” Although he closes his eyes again, you still press for answers. 

“I don’t wanna lose you t’some douche. You needa be with me, sweets cause I love you s’much. Don’t wanna lose you to him.” It’s all a slurred mess, his words mumbling together as they fall out of his mouth. 

“If you mean Jordan, no I’m not going to leave you for him” You giggle softly, “I left my date with him to come get you. Plus his stories about kayaking were starting to get boring.” You try to lighten the mood, but it only makes his lip wobble more. 

“I shoulda made a move, I wanted to b-but I-I was scared. Gareth told me I lost my chance with you and he-he was right.” A few stray tears fall down his cheek and you lift a hand to wipe them away. 

The same brown eyes you fell in love with, all those years ago, stare up at you. The heart that’s bleed for him for nine years is starting to heal, the words you so desperately wanted to hear are finally coming to light. 

With your own tears glistening in your eyes, you look down at him like you always do. With the biggest heart in your eyes and brightest smile on your face. “You should stop listening to Gareth, Eds. I think you still have a shot, but we’ll talk about this later. When you’re not drunk.” 

Bobbing his head the best he can, he squeezes your hand once before retracting it. With his eyes closed and steady breaths leave his parted lips, you get changed and turn off the lights. Maybe the universe wasn’t against you, maybe it was on your side the whole time and just had a funny way of showing it. 

__

The bright sun pouring through the window, wakes you up. The sight before you is one you’ve seen before. The side profile of your best friend’s face, wild hair sprawled over the pillow that lays beneath him. You take this moment in to study his features, the slope of his nose, the way his eyelashes kiss the tops of his cheeks, and how kissable his lips look. 

Not much later is he stirring, stretching his limbs out after his wild night out. Cracking one of his eyes open, he winces slightly before running his hands down his face. Blinking once or twice, he finally lets himself wake up, staring straight at the ceiling. You wonder if he remembers what he said or if you should bring it up. Instead you choose to play it cool, or at least try to. 

“Good morning drunky! How’d you sleep?” Reaching a finger out, you poke his side.

“Drunky,” he snorts,” I actually slept well, thanks to my wonderful nurse.” He takes a peak over at you, a smug smile already pushing his cheeks up high. 

You try to ignore the butterflies in your tummy when you hear his voice, thick and husky with sleep. The giddy feeling rushing through you is written all over your face, covered up by a bad attempt of biting back a smile. 

“Well, I’m glad you don’t feel so shitty.” You say, stretching your body to distract yourself from his burning gaze. 

“What time is it anyway?” His question comes out in a yawn, loud and exaggerated. Propping up on your elbow, you lean over him to get a look at your alarm clock. 

“A little past ten.” Eddie huffs, muttering something about it being far too early. “I know it’s too early for you but that just means we can go to Jerry’s and get waffles to soak up whatever's left in your system.” You coo at him mockingly, fake pouting as you look at him. 

“Ya know, I don’t enjoy your fake pity.” Eddie rolls his eyes at you, a frown pulling at the corner of his lips.

“Oh I’m sorry, Eds. Want some ketchup with those cries?” Eddie’s frown deepens like a bratty child, and you eat up every second of it. “Oh, I know! I’ll call a wambulance.” You throw your head back, laughing at your own joke. 

With your attention off of him, he sees the perfect opportunity to laugh. At lightning speed, he grips your hands, flipping you over on your back. With the weight of his thighs bracketing you and his hand gripping your wrists together, you’re defenseless. 

With a wild glint in his eyes, Eddie wastes no time in attacking you with a finger to your side. Relentlessly, Eddie tickles you to the point there are tears in your eyes from how hard you're laughing, and your pleas for him to stop are swallowed by the oxygen that’s being stolen from your lungs. 

“It’s not so funny when it’s your turn, huh?” Smirking down at you, his attack doesn’t relent. 

Thrashing around the best you can, you try everything to get him off but with the way his thighs squeeze your legs together makes it hard to do so. 

“Okay, Okay! I’m sorry, Eddie! Please!” The last word comes out as the softest moan, so soft that you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. However, Eddie was and his fingers stopped digging into your sides immediately. 

The sound of your heavy breathing is the only thing to be heard. Eddie stares down at you, eyes unblinking and cheeks dusted pink. The usually brown eyes are now dark, the dark pupil over taking the iris. You stare right back at him, chest rising and falling dramatically and lips parted slightly letting the air from your lungs flow out easily. 

It feels like the world has stopped, time frozen still for eternity. The mid-morning light painting the two of you in a portrait, cementing the moment forever. Two heart beats synching up together, beating against the bones of your rib cages. 

“Fuck it.”

Eddie rushes in to smash his lips against yours. Years of waiting and wondering if this moment would ever happen, now finally laying to rest. The taste of him has been the missing part of your life this whole time and you wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. 

It’s sweet and slow, his tongue slipping inside your mouth softly. Morning breath be damned, the two of you make out for what seems like hours on end. Parting from each other for much needed air, a small giggle leaves your mouth. 

“What?” Eddie smiles, his face as dopey and gooey as you feel on the inside. 

“I just wanted this for so long.” You admit, making his smile pull wider. 

Leaning back down to you, he peppers kisses all over your face. The snickering that’s leaving your mouth is slowly turned into a whimper when his lips find their way to your neck. A gasp pulls from your chest the minute he finds that spot, eliciting him to suck on it. Hissing when it becomes too much, Eddie is quick to soothe the sting with his tongue. 

Pulling his face away from the crevice of your neck, his eyes find yours as his hand glides to find the hem of your shirt. Tugging on it and raising an eyebrow in question, you nod overenthusiastically. 

Ripping the oversized shirt over your face, he takes his time to memorize all the details of your skin. The heat of his stare becomes a bit too much, worry overtaking your brain causing you to bite down on your lip. 

“I just want you to know that I’ve waited since freshman year to see these bad boys.” Attention still drawn on your bare chest. 

“Well, do they live up to the hype?” You question, tone not as confident as you think. 

Eddie’s head whips up to you, mouth agape and you swear you can see drool pooling from his lips. “Sweets, you have no idea.” 

Diving in, he kisses the doughy flesh of your breasts, going back and forth between the two. Like a magnet to a fridge, his lips find the hardened bud and latches on. Switching between sucking and flicking his tongue, you squirm underneath him trying to find some sort of friction for the ache in between your legs. 

“You have no idea how many times I jerked off to the thoughts of this.” Eddie mutters as he moves his attention to the opposite nipple. 

Between his admission and the feeling of his warm mouth on your sensitive skin, you moan loudly. The feeling of more wetness pool in your panties alerts you, the overwhelming feeling of need buzzing through you. A small whine comes from you and it catches Eddie’s attention. 

Pulling away from your breast and peering up at you, he cocks his head to the side. “What’s wrong, baby? Want some cheese for that whine?” 

When his canine teeth shine through his devilish smirk, you whimper. You hate that he’s using your game from earlier against you, teasing you like he doesn’t know what you want. 

“What is it, sweets? Tell me what you want.” Fake pity drips from his question and it only eggs you on more. 

Eddie’s got you so worked up that you can’t even speak. Lifting your hips to show him what you need, you frown harder when he laughs at you. 

“Oh, princess,” He coos, running his thumb along your lower lip, “Be the good girl I know you are, and ask. Can you do that f’me?” Nodding your head, he encourages you with an assuring smile. 

“C-can you touch me, please?” Your voice sounds so small and you’d honestly cringe if it weren’t for the fact that you know you’re dripping out of the fabric of your panties onto his bed. 

Sighing heavily, Eddie gives your bottom lip a small tug with his thumb, letting the bottom row of your teeth show before it bounces back up into place. 

“I would tease you more but you asked so nicely.” Shuffling down your body, he loops his fingers through the sides and guides the thin material down your legs. 

Pushing his way through your thighs, Eddie runs the tip of his middle finger up the slit of your sex. His finger grazes lightly over your bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt from the feeling. 

“You’re really fucking wet.” Eddie says breathlessly as he parts your glistening lips apart with his fingertips. 

Not waiting for your response, Eddie circles his finger around your entrance before plunging it in slowly. The stretch from his finger makes you arch slightly, a muffled moan falling from your mouth. Using the pad of his thumb, he swirls your clit in alternating circles and figure eights. 

“More, Eds. Fuck, please!” You beg and who is Eddie to deny you. Pushing another finger inside, he curls them just right and starts going faster. 

“Fuck you’re so greedy, baby. Isn’t that right, you’re s’greedy for me, huh?” With his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat and his cheeks a pretty burgundy shade, he looks just as fucked out as you. 

Writhing underneath him, you babble nonsense as his fingers hit that spot you always struggle to. “Yes! M’so greedy - Shit!” 

“You gonna let me taste you? Gonna let me eat this pretty cunt?” You don’t even get a chance to answer, your body already doing it for you by clenching around his fingers. “Oh she likes that, huh? You like imagining me in between these pretty thighs, baby?” 

“Think ‘bout it all the time.” You moan, hips rocking against his hand as you try to chase your high. 

“Yeah, sweets? Think about me when you play with this pretty pussy?” 

That’s all it takes for you to come undone, gushing around his fingers with a muted scream. Your back arches off the bed, eyes rolled into the back of your head, as the feeling of your orgasm washes over you. 

Eddie helps you ride through it, continuing his motions until your tense muscles relax into a jelly like state. When you come back down from your high, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. Moving your eyes to him, you watch as he sticks his middle and forefinger in his mouth, moaning when the taste of you hits his taste buds. 

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna have to eat you out.” Eddie grins at you and you roll your eyes playfully back at him. 

“That sounds absolutely wonderful, but” You begin to say and his face drops with the fear of rejection, “I’m going to need you to fuck me in the next thirty seconds.” You smirk and his jaw drops. 

After fifteen seconds of pure shock, Eddie shakes his head and tries to play it cool. 

“Yeah totally, let me just-” His sentence is cut off when he begins to struggle out of his own clothes. 

Once he’s stark naked and hovering over you, you laugh giddily up at him. Putting his forehead to you, he studies your eyes for any sort of regret or doubt. 

“Eds, I promise you I want this.” You reassure him, making sure to prove the point with a loving kiss.

With his confidence boosted, Eddie snakes his hand down to guide himself into you. When the tip breaches your entrance, the both of you gasp at the feeling.

Pushing in slowly, he brings his lips back to yours, swallowing your moans. Once he's all the way in, Eddie gives you a minute to adjust before he starts moving.

Nodding your head to let him know you're good, he pulls almost all the way out before ramming back into you, knocking the wind from your lungs.

"Fuuck, sweets. S'fuckin' tight." His voice trembles as he pounds into you.

"You're so big, I can feel you s'deep." You slur, drunk on the way his cock stretches you, hitting that sweet spot with every drag of his hips.

Eddie resituates himself, pushing your knees up to your chest, before bringing his chest back down to yours. This way you can feel him even deeper, which you didn't even think was possible.

You're on fire, belly burning bright with fire. Eddie's everywhere, he's all you can see, hear, smell, touch, think, he's invaded every single one of your senses and you can't get enough.

His eyebrows are furrowed, eyes closed with the pure bliss of being inside of you. It's so intimate yet so dirty and it's driving you insane.

Opening his eyes, he looks down at you like you've hung the stars that shine in the sky.

"I wanted this for so long, sweets. I wanted you, so Fuck-" He hangs his head, speeding up the movements of his hips. A roaring sob comes out of your mouth, the fire in you burning hotter with every drag of his thick cock.

"I'm so in love with you, sweets. Been yours since I was sixteen." Finally he confesses, letting the sacred secret out, only this time he's drunk off of you.

"I love you too! Fuck-I love you so fucking much."

"Tell me you're mine. Please, tell me." He begs and you comply, growing closer and closer to the edge.

"M'yours, been yours since I was fifteen." You confess and it feels like the weight of the world has lifted off of you.

With one last thrust, you come undone with a loud cry. Eddie doesn't let up his movements, now only focusing on his own release.

The way his hips stutter, you know that he won't last too much longer.

"I want you to cum in me, Eds. I wanna feel s'bad." You coax and that's all it takes for the metalhead to come with a stuttering grunt.

Lazily thrusting into you, he finally stops when he becomes overstimulated. The room is once again calm, the now afternoon sun blinds you as it seeps into the room. Heavy breathing and content hums fill the room, while the scent of sex lingers in the air.

Shyly removing himself from your chest, Eddie looks at you sheepishly. "Now what?"

If you didn't know Eddie you'd probably think he's being rude, but you know that he really is just overthinking everything that just happened. In his mind he thinks you're probably regretting everything, even though you told him you felt the same way.

Using your hand to pull some of the hair that sticks to his cheeks away, you smile affectionately at him.

"Well, I was thinking we could still go to Jerry's for breakfast," Eddie still looks at you like he's waiting for the ball to drop, "Then I thought you could keep your promise and eat your girlfriend out. That is, if you're not too full."

"Really?" He looks like a puppy who just heard its favorite word, excited with it's tail wagging back and forth.

Snickering up at him, you nod your head rapidly. Pulling out of you quickly, Eddie runs out of the room and you can hear the chaos of clattering from behind the door.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" More giggles fall from your lips as he races back in with a wet wash rag in his hand.

"Gotta clean you up before we go out to eat, baby. That way I can recreate our masterpiece later." He says wiggling his eyebrows.

Yeah this was the dork you fell in love with and who you were going to love for the rest of your life.

-

-

-

-

Thank you all for reading! I'm sorry it's not the best!

[distantdarlings]

PLAY IN YOUR MIND // t. nott

RATING: R / 3.3K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Reader Insert (No gender-specific details)

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* A couple of your friends describe a popular challenge spreading rapidly throughout Hogwarts, "No-Nut-November." You think it's the stupidest thing you've ever heard, until your boyfriend, Theo, bets you couldn't beat him at it.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! Masturbation, slight voyeurism, slight degradation, manipulation (?), one use of 'daddy' (sorry), dirty talk, language, dom!Theo

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Heavy Metal Lover - Lady Gaga

---

The golden light poured through the window almost as if it was made of the pure material itself. Hot and smooth and liquid, sliding past the panes in the glass, illuminating all in its wake. The motes of dust swirled peacefully just beside your head. Your eyes, still swollen from sleep, squinted in a small smile at the lovely sight. A hand came up to gently weave your fingers in and out of the little creatures.

It was Saturday, which meant, of course, no classes and no Quidditch practice until around noon. It was only eight o’clock now, which meant you had plenty of time to have a nice breakfast, catch up on some homework, and check in on your friends. A shock of dopamine filled your stomach. You loved Saturdays. 

The motivation born of the excitement to get started with your day had you ripping the comforters back and sitting up on the edge of the bed. You slid your toes between the shagged carpet, shuddering at the small tickle the material coaxed out of you.

You didn’t quite feel like getting ready to go down to the Great Hall so you settled for a robe over your pajamas and your fuzzy slippers, relying on the universe’s grace for the state of your breath and hair. Hopefully, your boyfriend wasn’t in a huge kissing mood.

For the most part, everyone in your dormitory had already left for the morning. You reckoned they were all downstairs grabbing some breakfast or headed to Hogsmeade for the day. You grabbed your wand, slid it into your robe pocket, and made your way toward the door. A small grumble came from your stomach at the thought of what might be waiting for you at breakfast.

You only ran into a few people on the way to the Great Hall, all of whom you didn’t know well enough to care about what they thought of your outfit. You yawned and rubbed a bit of sleep out of your eyes as you rounded the corner to the vast hall. The doors were already propped open, granting you a straight line of sight to the beautifully-lit room.

You crossed the threshold and found your entire group of friends gathered around the end of the table farthest to the left. You smiled as a couple of them caught your eye and waved you over. 

It looked like you weren’t the only one who had the same idea with the majority of them being decked out in the finest pajamas and robes. Enzo’s hair was still heavily ruffled from sleep, yet he didn’t care. 

“Good morning,” you suppressed another yawn. They returned the sentiment, some voices joyous and others grumbled from being up earlier. You smiled. 

“What’s for breakfast this morning, love?” A very familiar voice popped up from behind you as a pair of hands slid around your shoulders. You bit your bottom lip as butterflies erupted in your stomach. It didn’t matter how long the two of you were together, Theo never failed to make you giddy.

You turned and faced his beautifully well-rested face and examined it closely. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands crossed against your lower back.

“I was thinking you,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his lips. He smiled into the kiss and moved his lips along with yours. Fuck morning breath, you’d kiss him any time. A chorus of groans and fake gagging erupted behind the two of you. You both pulled away, chuckling childishly.

“Sounds alright to me,” he joked, guiding you to a seat between him and Enzo. You began surveying the options before you, the grumbles in your stomach building with every second. You eventually settled on a croissant with butter, a few selections of fruit, and some pumpkin juice to go with it. 

“Sleep well?” Mattheo asked, crossing his arms on the table just in front of his cleaned plate. Sleep weighed heavy beneath his eyes, rimming dark circles on the soft flesh there. You clicked your tongue in disappointment.

“Well, I’d say yes, but it looks like you didn’t,” you say. “Feeling alright?”

“Oh, he’s feeling more than alright,” Enzo chuckled, ignoring the elbow Pansy placed into his ribs. “Er, well, he was last night anyway…maybe not so much now.”

“Stay out late, did you, mate?” Theo asked, digging into the breakfast himself.

“Something like that,” the dark boy smirked in response. The conversation suddenly turned away from Mattheo’s late-night activities and on to some planning for the day’s Quidditch practice but you couldn’t help but notice the dark purpling that spread from the base of Mattheo’s throat down to beneath his white tee shirt. He caught you staring and sent a wink your way. Cheeky bastard.

“Alright, I’m going to head down to the pitch early and try to get some practice in,” Enzo announced.

“I’m sure,” Mattheo laughed, “probably just going to see how fast he can beat no-nut-November.” 

Theo and he broke out into uncontrollable laughter as a fiery red blush appeared across En’s cheeks and nose. Pansy stifled a laugh at the two’s response to the boy. It honestly kind of frustrated you.

“Hey, don’t tease him,” you scolded, giving a swift smack to Theo’s arm. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

It took a moment for the laughter to die down but eventually, the two of them had wiped the tears from their eyes and turned to face you.

“What, you mean you really don’t know what I’m talking about?” Mattheo smiled in obvious disbelief. You stared back blankly at him.

“Wait, are you serious, babe?” Theo turned more towards you. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, tapping your index finger against your skin in annoyance.

“We’ve already established this,” you spoke.

“Ah, shit, man. Maybe you should discuss this with her,” Mattheo shrugged. “I don’t feel comfortable explaining that to your partner.” Theo threw him a dirty look. 

“Uh, well,” Theo turned to you, “It’s like when a guy—or girl, I guess—tries their hardest not to….you know…” He motioned with his hands, indicating he wanted you to fill in the blanks.

“Oh, uh… ‘nut’?” you asked. He nodded.

“You try to go all through November without,” his voice dropped to a whisper, “cumming.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” you joked. Mattheo laughed. 

“Yeah, well, it’s part of the challenge,” Theo said.

“I’ve already lost, unfortunately,” Mattheo spoke. He pulled his shirt sleeve up and glanced at the watch placed around his wrist. “Twice since the first of November, actually.”

“But it’s November first today?” Pansy said, questioningly. Mattheo did not speak. Everybody suddenly made knowing glances as realization peaked between the five of you. 

“Then I’m going to beat you!” Enzo said, looking around the group. 

“Yeah, man,” Theo shouted, clapping a hand into his. “Me too!”

“Uh, you too?” you asked. “I’m sorry, where was my discussion about this?”

Theo turned to look at you, a slight look of disappointment printed on his face. He shrugged and avoided eye contact with you. You could tell you had embarrassed him slightly.

“I don’t know, it was kind of a sudden decision,” he said, “I didn’t really think it through, I just thought I’d help En out.”

“Okay, but he doesn’t need your help but someone else at this table occasionally does,” you spoke, crossing your arms. Mattheo choked on his pumpkin juice.

“Well,” Theo’s voice was lower and his head was bowed towards yours. “Baby, that doesn’t mean I can’t help you out. I just wanna show I’m, like, disciplined enough to do it, you know?”

“Theo, this is not a fucking Quidditch tournament. You don’t need to be ‘disciplined’ not to cum—just don’t do it,” you said.

“Easy for you to say,” mumbled Enzo. You glanced over at him to which he responded by dropping his eyes down to his feet. 

“If you think it’s so easy, why don’t you do it, then?” Theo asked, his jaw tightening and his eyes becoming challenging. You crossed your arms once again. If he seriously thought he was going to challenge you to something—a battle of will, at best—and win, he was sorely mistaken. 

“Okay, I will,” you said. “I’ll win, no problem. And not only will I win, you will lose so badly, it’ll be laughable.”

“Uh-huh, sure, whatever you say, little girl,” he retorted, rolling his eyes. Now he was just being a dick.

“We’ll see about that, little boy,” you mocked him. You got to your feet and began to head back towards the Great Hall’s entrance. Just before you got past the edge of the table, you turned back towards him.

“Oh, and Theo?”

“Yes, darling?” he replied sarcastically.

“When I win,” you smirked, “you’re going to do whatever I say in the bedroom until the end of November…you know, if you’re ‘discipline’ is so great.”

Mattheo choked on his drink once more and Pansy stifled another laugh. Enzo’s cheeks were reddened again. You all really needed to get him laid. Or maybe he already had been and was just really nervous about sexual talks. You weren’t sure.

Theo rolled his eyes and turned back to his friends. You suppressed a laugh and made your way out of the Great Hall, planning things for him to do for you all month long. 

xxx

After breakfast, you spent the majority of the rest of your morning finishing up some assignments and laying your Quidditch gear out. You figured you were going to rush out of here, per usual. Your punctuality wasn’t exactly hailed as the greatest known to Wizardkind. 

Your back was propped against a few of your pillows as you scanned through the assigned readings for Astrology, breezing through each chapter. You really did love that class and didn’t mind its assignments at all. It felt more like a hobby than required schoolwork. 

No matter how enjoyable the material was, however, your neck started to cramp after two hours or so. You tilted it from side to side, attempting to coax a pop out of each side. Just as you were beginning to work the pops down your spine, the door to your dorm swung open. From the angle you were at, you couldn’t quite see who was at the entrance but you assumed it was one of your roommates. You mumbled a polite “hey” and continued trying to stretch yourself out. When no reply came, you leaned around the bed’s footpost and tried to locate the intruder.

To your surprise, you found Theo standing before you, rather than a roommate.

“Oh,” you smiled, “hey, baby, I was just thinking of you.” You were excited to see him but after a few seconds of watching his face and getting no response, you realize he was not smiling nor did he seem happy.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You embarrassed me at breakfast,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Oh…,” you trailed off, staring at the floor. “I’m sorry. I don’t really see how I embarrassed you, though, it was just a joke.”

“After you left, everyone was talking about how I cum quickly, and have no control in the bedroom, and probably don’t please you.” Your eyes widened at his words.

“Aw, well that’s not true,” you spoke, placing a hand on his crossed arms in an attempt to be comforting. “I’m sorry they said those things about you, but I’m sure they were just teasing you. You have a ton of ‘discipline’ in the bedroom.” You tried your very best not to speak the word mockingly. You were trying to make him feel better, after all. 

“You’re trying not to laugh!” he shouted. You definitely were.

“No, I’m not!” you scoffed. A hand slapped his crossed arms playfully. “But, honestly, Theo, what does it matter if you are or not? I like it when you’re a little helpless.” You giggled at your words. He rolled his eyes.

“What is it?” you asked in a babied voice. “Are you still embarrassed, baby?”  

“I’m so annoyed with you,” he grumbled, turning away from you and facing the window. You rolled your eyes and got to your feet, standing just behind him.

“Baby, are you mad at me?” you whispered, sliding your hands around his sides and pulling him into a hug. He didn’t uncross his arms and, though you couldn’t really see his face, you were almost sure he still had that little pout plastered on. 

“Yes, I thought I made that clear,” he pulled away from your hug. You scoffed at his action. 

“Theo, please, it’s a dumb challenge some teenage boys came up with, and your friends teased you about cumming quickly,” you argued. “I’m pretty sure every other Hogwarts student that’s ever come through here has dealt with the same crap. It’s just stupid jokes.”

“Well, I’m still mad.” You rolled your eyes once more, suppressing a groan. 

“Oh, Merlin, help me,” you sighed, falling back down onto your bed. “Are you twelve years old?”

He scoffed and glanced back at you with an annoyed glint in his eyes. You knew it probably wasn’t smart to poke the bear but you thought he was acting very stupidly. Then, with just perfect timing, a thought popped into your head.

“Theo, baby,” you cooed, leaning back on your hands, feeling your soft comforter beneath your fingers. “If you don’t want them teasing you, how about you prove how much discipline you have in the bedroom.” You bit your bottom lip and slowly spread your legs, allowing the side-eye glances he was throwing you to catch the opening against your pajama shorts. His eyes snapped back to the wall.

“Away with you, devil! I’m winning this challenge!” he joked, though the frown remained fixed against his mouth.

“Are you sure you don’t want a little something?” you teased. “I won’t tell anyone you did it—we can still say you won…”

He grunted in response. You knew you’d wear him down, eventually. This ploy was never a particularly hard one to break. He’d start claiming he didn’t want to do anything because he was mad at you or something, then you would simply sit back and let his mind convince him to redirect all thinking ability to his dick. You smirked.

“Baby, don’t you wanna come down here and fuck me?” you whispered. You leaned back up and started to slip your tank top over your head. Your chest perked up as the chill in the air fanned over you. You saw his eyes sneaking glances at you.

Your fingers pulled at the tie cinching your shorts together. It came undone swiftly, loosening the fabric that lay loosely on your hips. You hooked your thumbs in the material and slid the clothing down slowly, revealing your bare lower half to him. 

“I guess I forgot to put something on under them,” you teased, spreading your legs to give him a full view of everything he was missing out on. At this point, he’d uncrossed his arms and turned more towards you. His fingers were clenching and unclenching into a fist, painting his knuckles white. 

“Theo, I’m so wet,” you moaned, sliding a finger down between your legs. You cringed internally at your words, knowing that they would harass you for months to come, but you were locked in now. You said you were going to win, and you were going to fucking win.

His lips parted at the sight, his eyes fluttering just a bit. The tips of your fingers ghosted over your core, pushing little shocks of pleasure up to your chest. You gasped softly at each touch. Your eyes found his once more. You plastered on the heaviest pleading look you could manage and bit your lip. This felt stupid, but he was eating it up. Your eyes never separated as you slid a single finger into your entrance. The sound it made caused a soft groan to spill from Theo’s lips. Your lips parted in a silent moan. Your head fell back, displaying your neck and collarbones. One of Theo’s favorite things about you. 

You heard an audible swallow from where he stood but refused to stop your movements. To be totally honest, you rarely pleasured yourself like this, as it didn’t do too much for you. But you figured this was just like pornography to him. Something he played in his mind when he stuck his hands beneath his trousers. 

“Touch your chest…and your neck, baby,” he whispered. You followed directions so fluidly, never losing the pace you had established with your other hand. You dragged your fingers over your chest and gently gripped your throat, sneaking a peek at him every so often. His trousers were becoming painfully swollen and every once in a while his hand would come down to readjust the fabric over himself. This was working a million times better than you thought it would. 

“What else, baby?” you moaned, making your voice breathless. 

“Put your fingers in your mouth, please,” he groaned out. You did just that, smirking as shudders ran down his arms. His eyes fluttered closed as he began to gently palm himself every once and a while. Never enough to do any true damage, just enough to give him a little bit of a jolt. 

You moved your lips and tongue over your fingers just as you would him. You even peppered in a few moans as the hand lined up with your entrance never ceased movement. You were not going to cum like this. You could do this all day…though you’d rather not. You had a few secrets shoved up your sleeve, but were saving those for last. However, considering how long the two of you had been here and how quickly Quidditch practice was approaching, you figured now was the time to pull out all of the stops. 

“Please come fuck me, baby,” you whined. “Need you so bad, please, Teddy.”

Number one, he loved that nickname, and, number two, he loved when you begged for him. You figured it was part of the boy mentality, they loved being needed. 

He groaned audibly, the pressure he was applying to himself intensified. He wanted to grab you and prove all of his stupid friends wrong. Half of them were probably virgins anyway, but he….he had the girl of his dreams spread out for him, needy and breathless and begging for him. Maybe this was just a stupid challenge….

That didn’t work. He barely even took a step forward. Damn it. Your fingers intensified and your mouth parted in a soft moan. You needed to use the one thing that always worked, even when he was the maddest he’d ever been. You knew what he craved to hear, though you didn’t use it often. To be honest, it sort of made you cringe, but you knew that it made him feel powerful.

“Please, I need you,” you whined. “Come fuck me, daddy…”

The hand palming himself halted and you watched, in live-action, as his eyes darkened considerably. He raised his hands to his belt buckle and made quick work of it. You giggled and leaned forward, removing your fingers from yourself. You helped him split the top of his jeans and slide them down. He shoved you back onto the bed and began to crawl over you. 

“You want me this bad, baby?” he placed a rough kiss on your lips. 

Your hands traced down his abdomen, feeling every taut ridge and valley. Your fingertips touched over his hipbones, across the waistband of his briefs, before slipping just beneath the material. His breath halted against your lips. Your cooled hands suddenly and beautifully wrapped around him, contrasting his intense heat with your wintery fingers. You slid your hand against him once, twice. Said his favorite name. And then he finished. With a desperate moan of your name and a clenched fist in your hair.

“Oh baby, good boy…,” you cooed and checked the time on his watch. “Really put those other guys in their place. You made it twelve hours.”

[in-my-feels-probably]

slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?

Slytherin Boys as Dads

Request: slytherin boys or mattheo riddle as a dad please?

Hi! So sorry for the wait, this one took me a while for some reason. I was kinda vague with these, but hopefully you like them. Thank you for the request :)

(Warnings: mentions of bad home lives, insecurity, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Theodore Nott:

deathly afraid of being anything like his own family or father. he’d be a little apprehensive about having kids in the first place, but he’d eventually be more open to the idea once you promised to be there every step of the way and take things slow. 

the proudest dad ever. the type of dad to clap and cheer once they use the bathroom on their own for the first time. he literally wouldn’t care (within reason) how good they’re doing at a sport or in school, he’s just proud that they’re putting in effort.

he’s got a short temper. i think he’d get a little snappy, and then immediately regret it once the tears started or they got angry and snapped back. he’d put on a brave face in the moment, but he’d for sure cry about it later to you.

he has such a way with words, and he’s so imaginative. they’d ask him kid shit that makes no sense, and he’s just deadpan answering them without hesitation. and it would be like that even when the kids were grown and moving out of the house. he just knows the right thing to say.

wouldn’t want a lot of kids. he’s too easily overwhelmed, and although he’s got the love to go around, he just can’t stomach the idea of being responsible for that many lives. one or two is enough for him, and he’d love them with all of his heart.

Every milestone your little girl met had Theo in shambles. No matter how big or small, he treated every single one of them like she had cured cancer or won an Olympic gold medal. When she started growing more independent and wanting to do things on her own, it wasn’t any different.

Theo came into your room after saying goodnight to your daughter, tears welling in his eyes. 

You stumbled out of bed to approach him, holding him steady by his shoulders when he wavered. “What happened? Are you alright, love?”

“She made her own bed,” he said, letting out a shaky breath. “She didn’t want me to tuck her in. She said she wanted to try doing it on her own this time. And she did it so well.”

You could feel your heart warm, wrapping your arms around Theo’s shoulders. You gently rocked him back and forth, running your hand through his hair. He pulled back, quickly wiping under his eyes.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, a sheepish smile on his face. “She’s just so smart.”

“Don’t be sorry, love. Just wait till she gets to Hogwarts. She’ll be top of her class, just like her Dad was.”

Your words sent him spiraling again, his cheeks paling. You chuckled, bringing your hand up to hook a finger under his chin, turning him to look at you. You spoke gently, giving him a warm smile.

“But that’s not for a long time. We’ve still got years with her before she does something substantial for us to fawn over her for. Let’s not worry about it yet.”

Theo groaned, shaking his head. “I’m always worried.”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his middle. You rested your cheek against his chest, listening to the faint thump of his heart.

“Did you ever see this coming for us?” He mumbled, resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Back at Hogwarts, I can remember wanting a life with you. But this isn’t what I was picturing. I used to not even want kids—Merlin, how could I have not wanted kids?”

You shrugged, closing your eyes and breathing him in. “I always knew you would be a good Dad. I pictured some sort of family with you.”

Before Theo could respond, your little girl came around the corner into your room, immediately running for Theo’s leg. She wrapped herself around him, playfully hanging from his pant leg.

“What are you doing out of bed, silly girl?” You asked, bending down to scoop her up.

“I have a question,” she babbled, absentmindedly reaching her hand up to squeeze your nose.

You laughed, passing her over to Theo. “Ask your Dad. I’m sure he’s got an answer.”

She wrapped her arm around Theo’s neck, tiredly rubbing her eyes. Theo looked down at her adoringly, patiently waiting for her to ask her question. 

“Why can’t I see my eyes? I can see your eyes and Mum’s eyes, but not mine. Why?”

You had to stifle a giggle, turning your face so your little girl wouldn’t see you laughing. But when you looked back up, Theo was just smiling down at her, like it was the most normal thing she had said to him all day. 

“I’ll tell you, and then it’s off to bed with you, darling,” he explained, brushing his thumb across her cheek. “You see with your eyes—through your eyes. That’s why you can’t normally see them themselves. But technically, you can see your eyes. Do you want me to show you, pretty girl?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes, nodding excitedly. Theo grinned, chuckling as he looked over at you. He nodded towards the bathroom where the mirror was, shifting your little girl on his hip. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said to you, before whisking your daughter off to the bathroom.

They giggled together all the way down the hall.

—

Lorenzo Berkshire:

the sweetest most dedicated man in the early stages. he would NEVER let you do more work than him. you’re not climbing up high, you’re not lifting something heavy, you’re not doing anything that keeps you on your feet. he’s BOLTING to beat you to it.

would give no fucks about gender. i think he’d absolutely adore having a little girl, but a boy is just as good. because he’d get to raise him up into a man the both of you are proud of.

gets overwhelmed easily for sure. would absolutely stress about not doing enough or upsetting the kids, and you’d have to remind him that he’s an incredible dad, and how he’s only human. making mistakes is gonna happen, there’s nothing you can do but keep going and try your best.

100% going all out for any sport/extracurricular they get involved in. he’s their number one fan.

probably the gentler parent. he’d try his best to be stern with them, but he just doesn’t have it in him to upset them. tears would literally break his heart, so you’d probably have to take on the more serious role.

You had two kids with Enzo, a girl and a boy. They adored their father—as they should. He was sweet and loving and hardly ever said no. But that was the problem…he hardly ever said no. 

And it got the best of him today.

The kids came bursting through the door, running into the kitchen with Enzo hot on their heels. He was carrying bags from the new toy store in Diagon Alley, a distressed look on his face as your children ran up to you to show you their new toys. You gave them a tight smile, faking enthusiasm.

“Very cool! How about we help Dad take them to your rooms, yeah? You need to eat before you play with them.”

“No,” your little boy whined, trying to dig in the bags Enzo was struggling to carry. “I wanna play now!”

Enzo let out a sigh, his voice strained. “Listen to your Mother—”

“We wanna play!” Your little girl screamed, her little cheeks flushing.

She turned around to root through the bags with her brother, when one ripped and the toys clambered to the floor. They scattered, and Enzo finally reached his limit. 

“That’s it!” He shouted, hoisting the bags up to set them on the countertop where they couldn’t reach. “That’s enough. You’re going to eat your dinner, and you’re never allowed to yell at your Mother again! Do you both hear me?”

Your kids stopped in their tracks, looking up at him with wide eyes. He might as well have slapped them—that was how they were looking up at him. Like he had hurt them worse than he ever had before. They were being dramatic, of course. You had scolded them far worse than that in their lives. But Enzo was never one to yell. He hardly ever raised the voice around the kids, it hurt him too much to do it. You looked up from their faces to Enzo’s.

And the look on his face was heartbreaking.

“I’m sorry,” Enzo stuttered out, unable to say anything else.

You could tell he felt terrible. His eyes were glazed over, and his hands were shaking at his side. You quickly scooped the toys off the floor, shoving them back into their bags. You bent down to speak to your children, grabbing each of their hands.

“Alright…everyone breathe. You two, I’m going to take you to your rooms. I expect you to be ready for dinner in ten minutes. And if you behave—and you apologize to your Dad and I for not listening to what we asked you to do—we’ll let you open up a few toys and play with them later. Your Dad was very nice to get you all of these things, and you both need to act like it.”

Your little ones looked up at the both of you, batting their eyes. You could feel your anger slip away as they watched you, their little cute faces scrunching up. 

It wasn’t fair—they were too adorable to be mad at.

“We’re sorry, Mum,” your little girl said.

Your boy nodded. “Yeah, we’re sorry Dad. We didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know, my loves,” you smiled, squeezing their hands. “Neither did Dad. It’s alright…everyone is just a little tired. Thank you for saying you’re sorry. Keep that attitude up, and your Dad and I will be happy to play with you after dinner.”

Your children giggled and ran off to their rooms with bright smiles on their faces, like nothing had happened at all. 

Your husband, however, was steel reeling. As soon as they were out of the room, you turned to him. His face was full of regret, his eyes sad. You frowned, opening your arms.

“Come here, sweet boy,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “You did so good. You’re okay.”

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he choked out into your shoulder, holding you tight.

You just shook your head, shushing him. “You had every right to. I love them to death, but they can be brats—and they know their Dad loves them too much to tell them no. You saw them, Enzo. They’ve already gotten over it. Don’t beat yourself up over this, love.”

Enzo sniffled into your shoulder. You held him tighter, gently rocking him back and forth as he leaned into you. It was quiet while you looked over his shoulder to the bags still on the counter, toys spilling out of the top of them.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re such a good Dad. They’re gonna be glued to you for weeks after they open all of those.”

“I’m sorry you had to take the lead. I should be better at this by now. I just can’t handle it when they look at me like that.”

You heard a clattering, and looked over to see your kids in the next room, politely sitting at the table. They were giggling to themselves, on their best exaggerated behavior so that they could earn back time with their toys. It was adorable, and it brought a smile to your face. You looked up to see Enzo smiling as well, despite his anxiousness.

“How do they look now?” You asked, reaching for his hand. “Because to me, it looks like they’re on their best behavior so they can play with their lovely toys that their even lovelier Dad got for them. It looks to me like they want to play with their Dad so bad, that they endured—Merlin forbid—washing their hands and setting the table just to do it.”

Enzo chuckled, squeezing your hand. “It does look like that, doesn’t it? Well, let’s not keep them waiting, darling. We have bags full of toys and two lovely children waiting for us.”

—

Mattheo Riddle:

girl dad girl dad girl dad

absolutely gonna have a meltdown raising little girls because it means he’s gotta start kicking some little shit’s ass for hurting one of his daughters. you’d seriously have to hold him back once they start showing interest in dating, because he’s not ready for them to be that grown up.

absolutely an affectionate parent. hugs and kisses before bed, he didn’t make the rules he just enforces them. he’d want his kids to feel like there was never a point in their life where they were too old for a cuddle.

deathly afraid of fucking them up. he’d rely on you in the early stages to help him along, but he’d really get the hang of it fast. later on in their lives he’d wonder what he was even so worried about.

would absolutely adore you after you give him kids. he would never whine about being stuck with diaper duty or homework because you already did so much giving him his girls. it’s only fair that he takes care of them—including you.

During Christmas break, your girls came home giggling. It took you days to get them to finally tell you what was going on, and you made them swear not to tell their Dad what happened. They had both met someone they liked over the term and had asked you to help them owl them.

“As a woman, I’m thrilled,” you explained, speaking in a hushed whisper in the kitchen. “And I want to hear all about it. But as your Mother, I’m begging you not to tell your Dad. Do you remember what First Year was like and you two came home talking about all the cute boys at school?”

Your eldest groaned in her chair, looking at her sister. “We’re silent till summer, got it?”

“Got it.”

—

You woke up the next morning to shouting coming from the kitchen. You rushed out of bed to find your two eldest sitting at the table, their heads in their hands. Mattheo was standing across from them, your youngest in his arms innocently looking up at him.

Your eldest looked up once you walked in. “Help. I’m begging you.”

“Mattheo,” you scolded, giving him a stern look. “They’re our girls—they’re smart, and they’re ready for this. You should be happy they came to one of us first.”

“But they’re my little girls,” he whined, shutting his mouth when your eldest piped in. 

“We’re not little, Dad. Not anymore.”

You watched his face fall, his chest tightening. You gently took your youngest from his arms, passing her to her sisters. You motioned to the living room, nodding your head. 

“Go sit down for a bit, girls. We’ll be right out, yeah?”

They nodded, filing out together. You could hear them whispering as they sat on the couch, giggling. You turned back to Mattheo, gently guiding him backwards until he fell into a seat. He looked up at you with a pout, heaving out a sigh. 

You smiled down at him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Do you remember when we met at Hogwarts? We were so lucky that I was smart enough for the both of us. Who knows what kind of trouble we could have gotten into if I let you lead.”

“We got into enough trouble,” he murmured, his tone sour.

You rolled your eyes, reaching down to grip his hands. You leaned forward, your knees knocking with his. 

“Listen to me. Our girls are smart—they’ve got their Mother’s intuition, thank Merlin for that. And one day, they’re gonna grow up. But that’s a far day from today. They’re not getting married, love. It’s just a crush. They want to send an owl.”

You squeezed his hands, nodding for him to turn his head to look out into the living room. He turned to see your girls all sitting on the couch together, the youngest in the eldest’s lap. Your older girls were making faces and sounds, trying to get the little one to laugh. She was looking up at her sisters with wide eyes and a bright smile, breathy chuckles pulled from her chest. You smiled, turning back to Mattheo. 

You hooked your finger under his jaw, turning him back to face you. “They’re still your little girls, Matty…they’ll always be your little girls. But we have to help them grow into women. And they need their Dad to help them do that.”

Mattheo sighed, leaning forward to rest his forehead against your stomach. You threaded your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

“You’re my best girl, you know that?” He murmured into your stomach.

A warm feeling spread through your chest as you smiled. Your daughters interrupted you before you could speak, the middle one shielding hers and the youngest’s eyes. 

“Ew! Stop being gross, Dad!”

Mattheo chuckled, leaning back to look up at you. He glanced over at his daughters, absentmindedly reaching for one of your hands. He interlaced your fingers together, letting out a—this time, content—sigh.

“You’re right. It is going to be a far day.”

—

Regulus Black:

i feel like regulus would be a very chill parent.

i don’t think he particularly likes children, but he would love his own. he’d adore them when they were all little and cute.

he definitely would be really good at disciplining them. he never has to raise his voice or get physical, he just gives them a look and calmly explains to them what he expects, and they’re content to listen to him. it’s so different than how he was raised, and he would promise you that he’d do better with them than his parents did with him.

he’d be really afraid of hurting them like his parents did. you’d have to assure him every time he felt like he was doing a bad job with them.

when they’re older, they’re totally momma’s boys and girls. when they’re children they couldn’t get enough of him, but as they get older they’d start leaning towards you. he wouldn’t even mind the favoritism, because you’re his favorite too, of course his kids would be smart like their dad.

You and Regulus had a little boy and a little girl together, the boy a few years older than the girl. Sometimes your little boy would play a little rough with her, not understanding that he was too big to be getting that excited with her. 

You’d catch them in the yard, him chasing her around while she dawdled and squealed. You watched through the window, calling Regulus over to come watch. Regulus smiled as he came from your bedroom, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he peered out the window. But your little girl tripped after a while, and your boy was quick to tumble after her, laughing as he fell. He was still giggling when he sat back up, but she sat up with tears streaming down her face.

You quickly rushed out the back door, panic settling in your chest. “What did I tell you about playing rough with your sister? She’s too little, darling!”

You tried your best to remain calm, but you just couldn’t do it. Regulus, however, was as calm as ever. He followed you out the door, walking over to scoop up your daughter. He sat down in the grass with her, cradling her in his lap.

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asked her, gently shushing her. “You’re alright, it’s okay. Just breathe.”

While you were too busy calming yourself down, you failed to pick up on the shock on your little boy’s face. He was wide eyed, taking rapid breaths. Once your girl was calm, Regulus held his arm out for your boy.

“It’s alright. Everyone is fine. We just have to be careful, yeah? Can you remember that?”

Your boy nodded, and Regulus gave him a grateful smile, pulling him in for a hug. You watched in awe, finally pulling yourself together. You took a breath, sitting down in the grass next to your kids. Your little girl was quick to switch to your lap, wrapping her arms around your waist. You hugged her tight to you, smoothing your hand over her hair.

“I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you said, reaching your free hand for your boy’s. “You just scared me. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Regulus nodded, giving you a smile before grinning down at his kids. “Lots of excitement this morning, huh? Barely nine in the morning and we’ve already given your poor mum a heart attack. I vote we spend the rest of the morning inside, yeah?”

Your kids nodded, standing up and running inside like nothing had happened. Regulus stood after, offering his hands to you before pulling you up and into his chest. You pressed your cheek into him as you hugged him, letting out a breath.

“You’re a good dad.”

Regulus smiled to himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re a good mum, darling. The best.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope you liked these! Thank you again for the request, I really enjoyed writing this :)

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕊𝕒𝕗𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: May I request the demon brothers with a reader who likes being with them because they feel safe around them?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hi! Absolutely! Headcanond seemed a bit too boring so... I did oneshot. I guess reader could be seen as shy in some? So sorry if this isn't what you wanted but hopefully, it won't interrupt much and hope you like it anyway!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

You were just walking next to Lucifer with coffee in your right hand and his hand in your left. It was late night and you were walking back home after a date, you honestly didn't even care about the fact you were just about to pass some clearly drunk rebels, unlike Lucifer.

You were walking on his right side two you were basically out of reach for them. You just continued your little chat while your boyfriend was the one being caucious about this whole situation.

When you finally walked out of their reach, you could hear him sigh and turn his attention back to you. Just from the posture, you could tell... it's not gonna be the happiest conversation.

"Y/N... you know I appreciate you having conversation with me but I think it'd be better if you could keep it down when we walk by more problematic demons."

"Why tho? I don't think we should have worse time because of them."

"Yes... but haven't you considered the fact they might not be the nicest? Not speaking about the fact they were intoxicated and may've hurted you."

"I don't think so. I really just feel safe around you and that's why."

You certainly made all of his arguments escape his head. You could see small sparkle of pride in his eyes as his expression turned from scolding to gentle smug.

Seriously tho, what made you think it was good idea to boost his ego even more?

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Mammon got you out of the house, mainly by claiming he's not gonna make you pay again this week because he won in casino last night so he's treating you today! Sure, money isn't everything but those little demon owns you thousands of Grimm by now... it's nice to see him pay sometimes too to know there are feelings on your relationship after all.

You were walking through city with one restaurant in mind when he suddenly stopped and pointed at the jewellery shop.

"Hey, wait for me here, alright? I'll just go grab something from that shop!"

"Can't I just come with you?"

"Well uh- you could but... it's gonna be quick, yeah? It's not like someone will steal ya!"

"And what if they would?"

You said it kind of jokingly but also with slight worry... you felt the safest around him, it was only natural you wanted to go with him rather than wait here.

He also changed his expression and he actually thought of it. It didn't even took him long before he grabbed your hand and walked with you on his side into jewelery shop.

"Alright human, THE Mammon has you covered! Just don't peek when I tell ya not to!"

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You tugged on Levi's shirt, trying to get him off his console for 3 hours now... you respected his dedication and fact he wanted to beat up the impossible boss but he's loosing his sanity and you're getting hungry. And since all brothers except you two are away, you wanted to go eat in the city.

"C'mon Levi!! Let's just go order a pizza, have a little walk and we can come back home!"

"You realize you coule just go without me? I'm not gonna run away from this room anytime soon..."

"Well yeah but I don't want to go alone! It's safer with you!"

"You could always ask Lucifer to go with you? Or Diavolo? Or-"

"No, none of them make me feel safe like you do."

You looked up at him, seeing flushed face, open mouth and widened eyes. It was clear you caught him off guard and you couldn't help but grin knowing it's gonna be so much easier to convince him now.

"So? Can we go now?"

"S-Sure... let me pause..."

He wanted to tell you to wait for him to calm down but he simply couldn't bring himself to it, so he just paused his game and followed you to the city.

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You were actually walking alongisde Satan from your little cat cafe date quite comfortably. That's untill you noticed some shady demons on your way. Your boyfriend seemed to simply not care so you just got on the side closer to wall and catched his hand.

You simply felt safer behind him and even tho he wasn't looking your way, it didn't go unnoticed to him. You maybe not realized it at first but after he sent you small smug right as you passed the other demons, you knew he had you all figured out...

"Feeling this paranoid?"

"What's wrong with going behind person I trust?"

"Nothing. I just thought it's cute act. Are all humans this cowardly?"

"It was more of a survival instinct than cowardness..."

"Call it however you prefer."

You could just look at him upset as he chuckled at your reaction. Seems like he knows what he'll rub into others faces for the next few days... but it's still the fact that's the most important to him. People are usually scared of him and you feel safe around him, avatar of wrath? You're definitely something...

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@miya-akane - come get your cat lover!

You were casually walking through streets and carrying Asmo's bags as Asmo was thinking of shop you haven't visited yet today. And we know, you HAVE TO visit all the shops around here!

But when you were walking past shadier alley, you felt slight shivers down your spine... not only it was looking like out of a horror movie, you also heard from news, just today that there were kidnappings and murders happening recently.

Pink haired devil seemed to notice your concern and immidietly grabbed your hand in attempt to reassure you a bit and calm you down.

"Hey now. No need to get so scared when you're around me! Let's just have fun!"

Maybe he knew about your opinion on him, maybe he said that just to tease you? Who knows? What's important is that his actions worker flawlessly!

"Right... thanks a lot."

But your answer left him with small gasp as if not believing you admitted it just like that. So he was just teasing after all!

"Oh my, really?! Awh~ Alright then, sweetheart, I'll fulfill my job as tour prince~"

That definitely made his day and it'd definitely be hard to restrain him from posting anything related to this situation on Devilgram. He even hummer an upbeat song for the rest of the day and took you with him absolutely everywhere even after coming back home.

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@vodka-glrl - come get your pretty princess~

Beel actually knew that his body shape and sin itself could scare others easily and that most of his brothers felt safe around him. Also, he'd always offer to tag along when you were a bit too scared to to somewhere. Even then he didn't expect to ever hear it directly from someone else than Belphie...

"Thanks again, Beel... I shouldn't have watched that horror movie at 1am I guess..."

"It's fine. You already thanked me with food. And as much as I don't mind... you really should go to sleep earlier. Don't human need like 8 hours of sleep?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know... But still. I'm happy it's you who went with me because I had no worries for the entire way! Out of all brothers, you're the one that makes me feel safest."

Beel stopped munching there for a second and looked down at you with slight surprise, but later on it turned into a grateful smile.

"No problem. I'm happy to put my reputation to protect ones I care about!"

What a cutie, he was smiling for the rest of the day too. All brothers thought it was just some delicious food but you, Beel and Belphie knew very well it wasn't the only thing that was causing it. It was honestly sweet to see him follow you with his legs or eyes like a little loyal puppy.

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Walking through city with Belphie looked like either him being carried on your or someone's back, or him looking like he's gonna drop and sleep on road any second. Even then, you took out no one else than avatar of sloth alone to accompany you.

Despite his lack it energy, you knew he could be dangerous. Heck, you alone probably know it better than anyone! So despite him being lazy as always, you actually felt safer than around anyone else! Well... maybe you could use Beel's company to feel even more safe but your boyfriend was still definitely enough. It was just trying to convince him to keep going that was hard...

"I'm so tired... you already have enough, let's just go home..."

"Just a while more Belphie. I still have one or two more shops to visit!"

"You said the same thing for last 6 stores... Couldn't you take Asmo with you instead?"

"Uhm... well technically but I prefered you. You're the one I feel safe around."

He suddenly stopped complaining and you could swear you just saw him getting slightly bit more energetic and motivated after hearing your voice. Also his pout changed into gentle smile as he finally wasn't walking like he'll collapse anymore.

"Oh... alright one more store. But I'm warning you, if we go through 2, I'll tell asleep on you..."

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@miya-akane - come get your sleepyhead~

[headkiss]

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

༄

You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“‘S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

-

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

-

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

-

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

-

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

-

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

-

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

-

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?�� Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

-

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

-

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

-

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

-

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

-

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

if you enjoyed, please leave a reblog or let me know what you thought! it helps loads more than you think <3

[cyanhydrangea]

Loneliness [Bayverse TMNT x Reader]

[Friendship Fic]

Summary: You feel lonely for the lack of friends you have in school, but the presence of the turtle boys makes you forget about it

You sigh for what it seems like a hundred time.

It seems like scrolling through social medias was the worst decision you made for the past hour this night. All you ever found was the posts that shows your classmates and friends happily hanging out without you.

You wondered why they never asked you to hang out with them anymore, maybe because they think you were boring. They never actually get to be your close friend, but still, having lots of best friends and gets to brag about it to the world seems fun.

The realization that you never actually have a close friend at school makes you feel lonely.

Turning off your phone, you decided to play on sad songs and cry yourself to sleep.

That is, until you suddenly feel a tap on your shoulder.

"Angelcakes?"

You jolted awake from the sudden touch, but relaxed when you see who the culprit was.

"Mikey, you scared me!"

"Sorry, sorry"

Behind mikey, you can see there are also the rest of his brothers, Leo, Raph, and Donnie.

"Sorry [name], we knocked on your window but you didn't respond", the leader in blue explained their sudden presence in your room.

"Right, it's okay", you responded.

"[Name], were you...crying?", The turtles noticed but Donnie is the one who asked.

You didn't realized there were some tears left on your cheeks and you wiped them and said "uh...no?"

"You were, anyone we need to beat up?", Raph ready to throw fist on anyone that hurted you.

"No!" You cried.

"Then, why were you crying, angelcakes?", Mikey asked

A brief silence fell in the room as you didn't answer mikey's question immediately.

"I...don't want to talk about it, guys, sorry"

The four brothers looking at each other, concerned of your well-being.

"Don't worry guys, it's nothing serious, I promise"

The boys weren't convinced, but at least you promised them, and you never break your promises.

"Alright, but we're all ears if you need someone to listen to your problems, okay?" Leo assured you.

"Thank you"

"Well, we bring something that hopefully can cheer you up", Donnie handed you something.

"No way!" You can't believe they just brought you the Blu-ray of the movie you've been dying to watch.

"What are we waiting for!? Let's watch this right now!" You excitedly leave your room and go straight to your kitchen to fetch snacks.

Raph sets the movie on your TV and you guys watch it together

It was in the middle of the movie when you realized you should be grateful the turtle boys being your best friends despite not having one in school.

You might not be able to hang out with the turtle boys out in the sun, not be able to post pictures of you with them on social medias, not be able to brag about them to the world, but with them you don't feel lonely anymore.

#CyanHydrangea

Date Written: 09/01/2024

[lou-struck]

They Said No... Part 3

Obey Me! Datables (minus Luke x MC!)

Featuring: Simeon, Solomon, Diavolo, and Barbatos

Part 1 HERE

Part 2 HERE

~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.

Warnings: MC gets propositioned and S*ut shamed by a demon, threats, violence, sass, discussion of pact making, and other things like that.

Diavolo

The enchanted orchestra plays a haunting waltz as the Prince’s golden gaze scans the ballroom. The hundreds of well-dressed guests don’t capture his attention at all.

 How could they?

None of them are you.

He has been so preoccupied with diplomacy and engaging with some of his more noble guests he hasn’t gotten to see you at all tonight. He misses you and your smile terribly, especially when a fake one has been plastered on his face all evening.

To help in his search and hopefully get a bit of alone time with you, he decides to drop his princely grin and walk about the room as if he has a set purpose. If he seemed preoccupied, no one would bother him for the time being.

It works like a charm and the crowded dance floor parts for him like the red sea. He passes what looks like Beel hunched over the buffet table, Satan chatting with a representative for the Animal Shelter, and Asmo playfully twirling a glass of demonus in his freshly painted nails as a crowd eats up every word that comes out of his mouth.

But where are you?

Finally, after minutes of searching the room, he finds you leaning against one of the pillars on the far side of the ballroom staring out the window at the purple-tinted moon.

He can’t keep his expression of indifference any longer; the grin tugs at his lips as he grabs two flutes of demonus from a passing servant. Ready to sweep you off your feet and hopefully into the gardens for a little stroll away from the party.

But someone beats him to it. 

A long-haired Demoness with long deep blue curls saunters up beside you, “Well don’t you look sinfully delicious this evening?” She draws gently, trailing one of her gloved hands down your arm. You tense under her unfamiliar touch and subtly move a bit further away from her.

“Tell me, Little Lamb,” she coos, flicking her serpentine tongue in your direction. “What does a demon have to do to get you alone for an evening?”

Wha, excuse me?” you blink.” Your behavior is uncalled for.” You take another, much larger step back. “You should go now.”

“Oh, come now,” she laughs, tossing her head back haughtily. “Don’t think I haven’t heard of your reputation MC, a mere human seducing their way through the Devildom. Surely you can make an exception for one more?”

The glasses in Diavolos’ hands shatter violently, and their contents drip onto the marble floor Barbatos took such care in polishing earlier. “What do you think you are doing?” he growls, filling the room with his overwhelming aura. 

“L-lord Diavolo,” the demoness shakes, her violet gaze wide and darting between you and the Prince, no doubt trying to figure a way out of the punishment that awaits her. “I was just joking around with them; that’s all; humans are too sensitive.”

“You continue to insult Mc,” he frowns. “Do you not wish to keep your tongue? Leave now before I take more drastic measures.”

They nod hurriedly and rush away from the ballroom, leaving you and the Prince surrounded by onlookers. Your eyes brim with unfallen tears, but you keep your composure beautifully. “Thank you, Diavolo.”

The rage inside him dulls as he shakes the demonus off his hands and escorts you away from prying eyes.

Barbatos

“Sorry for the wait, Mc,” Barbatos says, leading you into the lounge outside of Diavolo’s office. “The young master has been tied up in meetings all afternoon, but once he is done, the three of us can go out to dinner.”

You smile brightly as the butler, your hand lingering on his own, not wanting to let go. “That’s alright; I don’t mind waiting with you.”

You’re just too precious; it makes his ancient heart skip a beat. “I just have one last chore to do, and then I’ll be all yours.”

“Oh,” your slightly disappointed tone fills him with pride as you glance around the room. “Can I help with anything?”

“Absolutely not; you are a guest. All I require of you is that you relax and enjoy yourself until I come back,” he says, placing a hand on your lower back to lightly guide you into the comfortable seat in the room. “I promise I shall only be a few moments.”

He leaves quickly, making sure to be near enough should you require anything. With a steady hand, he wipes a vase far older than himself faster than anyone else would attempt to. The ancient porcelain still shines like new under his careful touch, but as he looks into the rich colors within, he can only think of your eyes.  

His ears twitch as the sound of footsteps is much heavier than your own. They thud down the hallway stopping at what seems to be the door to the lounge, and step through the freshly oiled hinges.

A weary feeling settles over him for two reasons, 

Firstly, The young master isn’t expecting any more guests today.

And Second, You are completely alone in the room with a strange demon.

Instinctually, he places the vase down and rushes down the hall to check on you.

He pauses just outside the door catching the scent of the son of a well-known Noble Demon. His green eyes peek through the crack in the grand double doors, it may be impolite to eavesdrop, but as a Butler, it is quite the perfected skill.

“You there, Human.” the pompously dressed Demon sneers in your direction. “Go make yourself useful and fetch me something to drink.” They smirk confidently at you and lounge back into the chaise as if they own the place.

It grinds Barbatos’ gears, but he doesn’t interfere yet; the mantra ’a good butler does not make a scene.’ replays in his head as if it is a warning, but his hand is already on the doorknob before you even reply to the rude Demon. 

“Excuse me?” you say with a composure that makes his heart flutter, “But I believe you have mistaken me for someone else; I do not work here; perhaps one of the Little D’s would be able to assist you.”

He scoffs as if he had never been told no before. “I am a very important guest of the Crown Prince; you are nothing. If I want you to grab me something, you will get it for me.”

“I already told you I do not work at the palace; I have business with Lord Diavolo just the same as you do,” you explain again. 

“You speak as if we are equals; perhaps I need to teach you a lesson,” they spit, uncurling their barbed tail and pointing it threateningly in your direction. Your eyes widen a bit, and you subtly shift in your seat; Barbatos spots thin tendrils of magic already at your fingertips in case the entitled demon attacks. 

He can watch no longer- Stepping into the room without his usual polite smile, “That’s quite enough; your disrespectful behavior is not tolerated in this castle.” At Barabatos’ entrance, the Demon begins to shake something fierce as whispers of what the butler does to threats to the crown replay themselves in his ears. 

Barbaots tries to hide the softness he feels when he sees the way the fear of your features falls away in his presence. 

Although it is immensely satisfying to watch someone who was once so proud and entitled backtrack and blubber out a seemingly endless stream of apologies and excuses to you, Barbatos is in desperate need of your quality time, and this imbecile is getting in the way of that.

“Furthermore, why would you ever ask them to do something for you that you are clearly capable of yourself,” he asks, smiling maliciously, leaning close to the trembling Demon’s ear. “Are You Helpless? If that’s so, why should someone as pathetic as you ever request an audience with the future king?”

“R-right, s-sorry,” he mumbles, scurrying out of the lounge as if he were a rat. The thought of such sends a shudder through him as he turns his attention back to you. Your shoulders are stiff and rigid, your breaths come out shakily, but you are unharmed, and that’s all that matters. 

“Little Rose,” he asks in a feather-light voice, crouching down to your eyes level and taking off his white gloves to hold your hands properly. “Are you alright?”

You nod slowly as he rubs gentle circles into the back of your hands. The contact soothes him just as much as it is soothing you. “I’m okay.” you say at last, “Thank you for being there for me, Barbatos.”

“When you need me, I will always be there for you- I promise,” he says softly, meaning every word.

Simeon

Simeon is all smiles as he walks down the cobbled streets of Majolish. How can he not be? He’s going to have lunch with you.

A part of him feels bad about not telling Luke about this little date, but he really wanted to have some alone time with you.

As of late, It seems as if everyone else has no problem getting you alone; it pulls at his heartstrings to know that he isn’t as present in your life as he wishes to be.

Some may call his feelings possessive, but in all reality, it is love, true unadulterated love. Every time he sees your face, he wonders if falling from the celestial realm would really be that bad of a thing.

Just as he approaches the Bistro told him to meet him, he notices you off in the distance. You walk quickly across his path, a look of irritation on your pretty features that has the Angel wondering if he himself has done anything to upset you recently. 

He hasn’t, but the feelings of insecurity persist, and he gets closer.

“No comment,” you say aloud, your hand swatting at the air around you as if there was a bug. “I told you I have nothing to share.”

He may not be able to see the other presence around you, but he can feel it. One of the tiniest Lesser demons he has ever taken note of buzzes around your head like a fly around a bowl of fresh fruit.

“Come on, sweetheart; you gotta tell the people what they want to know.” The voice says in a comically high-pitched voice. 

You stop and stare at the little bugger. “I have nothing to say to you about the brothers, the prince, or anyone else for that matter,” you say defiantly. 

“Listen, MC; I’m a busy demon. The kind of Demon who has deadlines. If you don’t give me something good, I’m done for.” He pleads, circling around your head once more. 

Simeon takes a careful step forward, more than ready to come to your aid when the Demon opens his mouth again.

“What about the Angel? You gotta tell me something about him. No one is that good, that pure. I’m sure my readers would kill for a story about how one of the highest-ranking angels of the celestial realm is being corrupted right here in the Devildom.”

Simeon stops in his tracks. The accusations may be false, but those rumors are dangerous, especially to him. If his superiors heard a story like that was gaining traction, they could take him away. He would never get to see you again.

The Angel knows he has told you many secrets in the late hours of the night that would satisfy this pest of a reporter. But those secrets were exchanged in hushed tones with many tears. You would never betray him like that.

Would you?

His heart feels so tight in his chest as you stare at the Reporter in shock. “at first, I thought you were just annoying. “You say calmly, “but it seems to me you are more than that; how stupid can you be? Simeon is one of the kindest beings I have ever met; your story has no substance; leave me alone.” 

The emotions that welled up in Simeon’s chest when you took his side were indescribable—making the sweet Angel feel as if he were falling for you all over again. He feels rejuvenated and ready to help you get rid of this Reporter once and for all. 

Despite the pissed-off look on your face, the Reporter does not back away, throwing up his tiny hands and changing the subject. 

“Okay, nothing special there. But how about Belphegor? Is it true he was kicked from his exchange program early as a result of sleeping through his classes?”

“I may not know too much about reporting down here, but I am fairly certain the best information comes straight from the source,” he says in his calm and cheery voice. With his presence known, he sees the Reporter fly out of your personal space bubble quickly. You look visibly relieved that there is no longer buzzing in your ear.

Now that you are feeling better, the Angel continues his lecture, “As for me, I have nothing to say to someone who works with such a lack of integrity. Please leave the two of us in peace.” Although he speaks with a smile on his face, his words are not a friendly suggestion. The lesser Demon flies away quickly, not wanting to face the wrath of the Angel.

With the pest gone, he turns and gives you the biggest, most sincere smile he has to offer. Feeling an emotion he cannot name with your knees buckle at the sight of him.

“I’m glad he’s gone,” you say softly, taking his outstretched arms for balance as you make your way back over to the Bistro. “I kept telling him to leave us alone, but he would just keep pressing with these awful questions.”

“I know,” he says, kissing the top of your head lightly, “But I would like to thank you for sticking up for me.”

“And you, me,” you giggle, glowing with a light all your own.

Solomon

The great sorcerer finds himself continuously drawn to the clock, the slow-moving hands taunting him as he comes to a disappointing realization.

You’re late…

You’re never late. 

He looks back at the fully prepped conjuring station and fiddles with the covers of a few of the jewel-encrusted spellbooks longingly. Your magic lesson was supposed to begin ten minutes ago, but you are nowhere to be found. He spots his DDD lying face down on the end of the clean countertop and reaches for it.

Perhaps you messaged him, and his ringer was off. He picks it up only to see his blank lock screen. Your pixelated smiling face does little to ease his mind. With one last glance at the clock, he turns and walks out the door. His cape flows behind him as he walks through the hallway of Purgatory and out its doors.

He’s out on the street, walking towards the House of Lamination with vigor, using his arms to propel his speed walk forward like he is a mom walking the track at their child’s soccer practice. 

The thought does cross his mind that he had forgotten a possible time change the two of you had agreed upon earlier, but as he rounds a corner, he is able to make out your figure through the light fog that settles on the ground.

But you are not alone; in front of you, there is something large in your path, the fog makes it difficult for him to see exactly what it is, but the aura radiating off of it reveals that it is a lesser Demon who is currently on their knees in front of you.

‘Well, this certainly looks intriguing,’ he thinks to himself, stepping closer. A wave of his hand sweeps away the fog, but neither you nor the begging Demon seems to have noticed his presence yet.

“Please, please, please. Mc. You just have to accept me.” it begs, a clawed hand creeping forward, trying to grab ahold of your shoe pathetically. “I’d do anything for you, Protect you, worship you, anything.”

Solomon has no clue what is happening right now. Is it perhaps another demon professing their love to you?

No, if that were the case, you would have politely turned this poor Demon down with a kind look on your face. But instead, he sees you look uncomfortable, very uncomfortable, as you take a step farther away from the Demon’s outstretched hand. 

“I have already told you no,” you say at last. “I am not interested in making any more pacts.”

Solomon immediately understands why you look so uncomfortable. When making a pact with a demon, it does more than grow one’s powers. It creates a bond. 

Many Demons do not understand just how draining it can be to have a pact with a demon who doesn’t deserve it. 

Although Solomon may desire pacts with strong demons so that he can be strong enough to protect the human realm should the need ever arise? You are different- you have your own reasons for making pacts with the brothers. These pacts are a symbol of your love. Something he is certain this little pest is undeserving of.

Solomon decides that he would like a bit of attention now…

“Oh my,” he says, walking around the Demon as if he were as insignificant as a fallen tree branch. “Do watch your step Mc; it looks like no one has come by to clean up these paths after last night’s storm.”

You look visibly relieved to see another friendly face, and Solomon kisses the back of your hand tenderly. The Demon stares at you both angrily but knows better than to say anything in response. Solomon smirks and looks down at the pushy Demon with a narrowed gaze. 

“Why would MC share a part of themselves with a demon who is too stupid to understand the meaning of the word no?” he says with his silver tongue. “They may be kind enough to turn you down politely, but me? Not so much I’d leave if I were you.”

Wordlessly the Demon picks itself off the ground and runs off with its curly tail between its legs. Not wanting to anger Solomon the Wise any more than he already has been the smartest decision they have made today.

As they scamper off, you look a bit embarrassed as you check the time. “I guess I’m running a bit late to our lesson today, aren’t I, Solomon?” A soft giggle slips past your lips, and Solomon wonders if he will ever get tired of hearing that sound.

“You had a good reason,” he replies simply. 

You groan. “Still, I had been trying to shake them for at least thirty minutes, but they wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Hmm, then how about we do something else today?” he offers. “Take a break, maybe, sneak up to the human world for some frozen yogurt or a soft pretzel?”

Your eyes light up at his proposition. “Could we get a drink?” you ask, “Demonus isn’t gonna cut it today.”

You’re just too cute sometimes. It makes him feel much younger. He looks at you with an almost boyish grin and laughs, “I think we can make that happen.”

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

Brave Enough

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

genre: kinda angsty

el's thoughts: this is part one! part two will be done soon (hopefully) :)

The young girl’s screams echoed through the Potter’s back garden as James forced the training broomstick to go faster. The cold spring morning air whipped through their hair and past their faces causing Y/N to bury her head between his shoulder blades. 

“James! You be careful with her!”

“Don’t worry, Mum! She’s just being dramatic as always.”

“I’m alright, Mrs. Potter! I promise!” Y/N called back after smacking the bespectacled boy in front of her. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his waist as they both sat on his brand-new broomstick– gifted to him by his father against his mother’s better judgment. 

“Why can’t you just ride the extra one if you don’t want to go so fast?” He grumbled.

Y/N rolled her eyes, “I don’t know how to ride it, you idiot.”

“Then learn how to,” he pointed out.

“I don’t want to,” she huffed. “Anyway, that’s why I have you.” 

James could feel her smiling brightly behind him as he chuckled. “Fair point I guess.”

The pair had been best friends since birth, given that their parents were all friends when they were at Hogwarts. The children had heard of all their fun stories and constantly looked forward to making memories as bright as their parent’s when they finally got their letters. They had a good few years before they turned eleven and each day felt like an eternity, but they always had their fair share of mischief and fun to pass the time. 

~

Footsteps pounded up the steps of the Potter’s manor. Giggles fell from the eleven-year-old’s smiling lips as she pushed open the heavy wooden door with a bit of a struggle. 

“I got my letter!” Y/N yelled into the house as she kicked off her shoes by the front door and slipped on the extra pair of slippers they kept for her. Euphemia’s laughter could be heard from the kitchen and the young girl quickly followed the sound. She ran into the kitchen and slid to a stop by the counter with a wide smile.

“Happy birthday, Darling!” Euphemia placed a kiss on the girl’s cheek. Fleamont Potter followed by placing a kiss on her head.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “I got my letter!”

“We know,” the youngest Potter laughed. “We could hear you from your house.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Well sorry for being excited.”

“No need to be sorry about anything, Y/N/N.” Fleamont chuckled. 

Euphemia served both children slices of cake before she and her husband left them in the kitchen. James was quick to finish his slice and had started pestering Y/N for hers. 

“Shove off, you had your slice.” She grumbled as she slid her plate away from him.

He sighed and laid his head on the counter, waiting for her to finish. “We’re going to Hogwarts.”

Y/N giggled excitedly, “I know! Isn’t it exciting?”

“We’ll be leaving home,” James muttered into his arm that he used as a pillow.

“Yeah…” she sighed. “But at least we’re going together. We’ll have each other!” She smiled brightly at him and moved her plate back in front of her, silently offering to share.

~

“You’ll never guess what happened today!” James nearly bellowed as he strutted through the common room door and made his way to the other marauders sitting on the sofa chairs and couch. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and threw herself down next to Sirius. “Lily looked at him!” She sighed dramatically with a hand across her forehead. “Can you believe it?”

Remus and Sirius snickered while Peter said words of congratulations. James glared at the girl as he sat on the floor next to her legs. “That was my news to share.”

“Too bad,” she teased and stuck her tongue out at him. 

The loud giggles of Y/N’s dormmates sounded from the door interrupted the guy’s conversation. Y/N was quick to jump to her feet, nearly kicking James in the side as she caught up with the girls. “Save me.”

“We heard that!” Sirius hollered back to her. 

“Whatever!”

The girls walked up the staircase and filed into the dorm. 

“Guess what I heard today?” Marlene asked as she tossed her bag to the floor beside her bed and walked to the bathroom. 

Y/N picked up her bag and placed it on the blonde’s trunk. “What did you hear, Marls?”

“McLaggen has a massive crush on you and rumor has it that he’s planning on asking you out soon. My guess is within the next day or so.”

The y/h/c-haired girl choked on her breath. “McLaggen? Quidditch, future ministry worker McLaggen?”

Marlene shouted from the bathroom, “You’ve spent so much time with the boys you’ve gone stupid.”

“Oh, lay off her will you?” Lily spoke up with a chuckle. “It’s not her fault they were her only friends.”

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard she gave herself a small headache. “Shut up the both of you.”

“Right. Anyway, I just thought I’d tell you so you would be prepared.” Marlene strolled out, shaking out her blonde curls. 

“Prepared,” Y/N nodded with a far-off expression. “Wait. This is the first time a guy has shown interest in me!”

The other girls laughed at their oblivious friend. “Oh, girl.”

“That’s far from the truth. But it’s the first time one has been brave enough to do anything about it.”

“Brave enough?” asked Y/N, surprised. “I’m that terrifying?”

“Not you,” Lily sighed. “James.”

“James!?”

~

Hogwarts hallways were always crowded between classes, so it was no surprise to Y/N that she could barely make her way through them to reach her next class. First-years ran between the taller students, and sixth-year students ran just the same. Y/N avoided every nudging shoulder while she flipped through her Defence notes as she walked to her Divination class. 

“Y/N!” A voice shouted over the chatter in the hallway. “Hey, wait up!”

She froze in her steps and looked around to spot the source of the voice. McLaggen waved his hand in the air to grab her attention as he shoved his way towards her. 

“Hi, McLaggen.” Y/N smiled politely.

“Hey, how are you?” His bright smile made her cheeks hurt just watching him.

“I’ve been good-”

He cut her off, nodding. “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

“Oh,” her eyes widened at his forthright question. “Um, I would love-”

“McLaggen!”

The boy’s face drained of all his color so quickly, that Y/N would have found it humorous if she hadn’t recognized the voice behind her.

“Actually, I think I have plans. Sorry! Maybe some other time!” His words were rushed as he quickly turned around and rushed down the opposite end of the corridor.

‘So much for being brave enough to do something about it.’ She spun on her heel within seconds and strutted over to the group of three who parted the sea of students as they walked. 

“You!” She jabbed her finger hard against James’ chest once she reached him. “You obnoxious, annoying, bothersome, appalling, troublesome, dreadful boy.”

“That’s a lot of words,” James muttered to Sirius and Remus who stood beside him.

“Not nearly enough to describe you and how I feel at this very second.” If looks could kill, James would be six feet under where he stood. “Just who do you think you are?”

“Euphemia and Fleamont's son?”

“Your mother would be ashamed of you right now.” Y/N raised her hand to slap his shoulder. “And your father raised you better than this.”

James caught her wrist before she could hit him again. “Woah woah. Hold up, firecracker. What are you talking about?”

She quickly raised her other hand and slapped him anyway. “I’m talking about you scaring off people who have an interest in me!”

The brunette shot a glance of pure horror to Sirius, to which he only responded with a shrug. Remus rolled his eyes and sighed, “You had this one coming, mate. I told you not to do it.”

Y/N turned on the tallest marauders and glared. “You knew he was doing it and did nothing to stop him?” 

“I-”

Sirius quickly cut him off in a weak attempt to save at least one of his friends. “We have class, so sorry, darling. And don’t forget, it’s James who’s been friends with you much longer than we have. Okay, bye now!” He reached for Remus’ hand and pulled him into a sprint away from the furious girl.

“Traitors,” muttered James.

The halls started to clear as classes went back into session. However, Y/N couldn’t bring herself to care about being tardy to her Charms lesson at the moment. Her anger cleared but settled into a tearful heartache.

James panicked at the sight of her teary eyes. “Y/N/N…”

“James, why?” she asked with a sniffle.

“I just didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

“But you can’t protect me from that. I want to go on a date and I want to be sought after like the other girls. I want to ask a guy out to Hogsmeade and not be turned down.”

“But Y/N-” James started but was quickly shut down.

“No James. You have chased after Lily every day for the last four years! How is it fair that you get to chase after my friend while I sit back and watch? The only guy I’ve ever hoped would show interest in me, only to watch him go after one of my best friends. Then I find out that you scare off everyone else.” A few tears had fallen from her eyelashes at this point. “How is that fair, James?”

He stared at her with wide eyes. “The guy you hoped would show interest?”

Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. “No… James, don’t do that to me.”

She groaned loudly. “That’s what you pay attention to?”

“Well, the girl I’ve had a crush on for years just admitted she feels the same!”

“Y/N…” 

“You don’t get the right. That’s just mean.” Her voice was so small and she felt so vulnerable. Before James could say another word she cleared her throat. “I’m late for class.” She walked away from him slowly, as if in a daze. She could feel her heart crack in her chest as she walked away. She knew that there were a million better ways she could’ve handled the situation, but now she had to deal with the cards she played. 

This wasn’t the end of the conversation, but she just needed a bit of time. Some time to breathe and straighten out her thoughts. She just needed some time. 

[moonstruckme]

hi love! could I request reader having a nightmare and Remus comforting her?

Hi gorgeous, of course you can! Thanks :)

roomate!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You wake when your own fist hits the window beside your bed.

You’re not sure if it's the feeling of the cold glass hitting your hand, the loud banging sound it makes in your silent flat, or the terror that’s been building as your dream reaches a climax, but you gasp as you wake, flinching away from the window. 

For a few moments, you just lie there. Staring into the darkness and listening to the pounding of your heart. You’re okay. You’re in your room, at home. There’s no one here. 

Until there is. Remus busts in your door, wild-eyed and rumpled, and you flinch back towards the window you’d been so eager to get away from a few seconds before. 

“Shit!” Your eyes fill with tears as your brain plunges from the treacherous peak of adrenaline for the second time in a minute. You squeeze them shut, covering your face with your hands. “I’m so sorry, Remus. I woke you?” 

“That was you?” He stops just inside the doorway, fisting a hand in his hair and blowing out a harsh breath. “Christ, I thought someone was breaking in.” 

“Sorry,” you say pathetically, sitting up and wiping under your eyes. “I think I was breaking out. I hit the window in my sleep.” 

Remus’ eyes flit to the window (you don’t think you came anywhere near damaging it, thank god), before landing back on your face. His eyebrows draw together. “Well, that’s a reaction. Everything okay?”

You swallow. “Yeah, just sorry I woke you. You should go back to sleep.” 

“Why are you crying?” He ignores the suggestion and comes to sit on the edge of your bed. You make room for him automatically, drawing your knees to your chest. 

“I guess I spooked myself,” you laugh wetly. “It was just a dream, though.” 

The space between Remus’ brows puckers. “Bad dream? Must’ve been pretty terrifying for you to jerk your arm like that.” He’s looking at you thoughtfully. “I’ve never known you to do anything like that before.”

You shrug, feeling your face heat from the attention. “Hopefully it’s the only time.” 

“Do you think it might help to talk about it?” 

“I’ve already forgotten most of it,” you say, but give him a small smile for his efforts. He really is the best roommate you could ask for, kind to a fault. “I woke up pretty freaked, but I’ll get over it. Thanks, though.” 

Remus watches you with those warm, caramel eyes of his. You get the impression he’s sizing you up. “Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep after that, love?” 

You’re sure he’s tacked on the endearment to imbue the question with extra sweetness (as if his voice isn’t enough), wanting to make it clear that either answer is alright. But even Remus’ special brand of tenderness can’t convince you to inconvenience him any more than you already have. Your heart is still half-stuck in your throat, and there’s no way you’re going to let yourself fall back asleep when you’re in this headspace—that’d just be asking for another nightmare. He doesn’t need to worry about that, though. 

“Yeah,” you fib. “I’ll be fine, thanks.” 

Remus looks dissatisfied, but nods. “Alright.” He reaches up, giving your knee an affectionate squeeze as he stands. “See you tomorrow, then.”

“Sorry again for waking you,” you say, voice pitched high with shame. 

“Don’t be,” he says, plodding sleepily out of your room. “It’s no problem.” 

You’re positive it was some problem, considering he’d been roused by your noise in the early hours of the morning and come charging into your room looking half-crazed, but you’re done arguing about it. Maybe if you still haven’t fallen asleep by six or seven, you’ll get up early to make him an apology breakfast. 

You track the sound of Remus’ quiet footsteps as he goes into his room, waiting for the click of the door closing. A few moments, and it doesn’t come. His footfalls have stopped, until they change direction, shuffling back across the hall. 

His head pokes into your room. “You’re not going back to sleep, are you?”

Your shoulders begin to curl towards your ears. “No,” you say in a small voice, “but it doesn’t need to be your problem.” 

He gives you a disapproving look. “Would it help to sleep in my room?” 

You startle. “I could never ask—”

“You’re not asking,” he says, seeming to have got his answer. “Come on.” 

“Remus, thank you, but I can’t stay in your room.” 

“Sure you can. My bed’s bigger, and the longer you argue the less time either of us gets to sleep.” He levels you with a hard look, and for a second, your quiet, polite roommate is nearly intimidating. “Come on.” 

You comply this time, slipping out from beneath your blankets. “Sorry,” you say, and then, unable to choose, “thank you. You’re seriously too nice.” 

“I’m not,” Remus mutters, waiting at the door until he’s sure you’re coming before leading the way into his room. “The problem is that you’re too nice, and so I can’t ignore you when you’re upset like I would anyone else.” 

You sincerely doubt that. You’ve seen Remus rush off at the drop of a hat whenever any of his friends needed him. He’ll give every scrap of himself to anyone he cares about, without hesitation. 

But instead of that, you say, “I’m not upset.” 

“That’s good,” Remus replies, lying down and propping himself up on one elbow. When you hover on the edge, waiting for permission, he gestures to the other side patiently. “It’s alright to still be a bit frightened, though, you know?” 

You gnaw on the inside of your lip as you crawl beneath the covers. It feels like such an invasion. “I think it’s more just the aftershocks of fear,” you tell him. “I’m still panicking a bit, but I can’t even remember what about.” 

He hums, his watchfulness making you squirm as you lay your cheek on his pillow, facing him. His sheets smell like him, cinnamon and clove and something heady that you’ve never been able to place. “That doesn’t mean the panic isn’t still scary, yeah? How’re you feeling now?” 

He asks like he really wants to know, and you believe him. There’s a particular sincerity to Remus. He likes to hide it behind gruffness and feigned insouciance, sometimes for so long that you can trick yourself into thinking you imagined it was there in the first place. He’s not hiding it now. 

“Better,” you answer honestly. “Kind of getting tired. Did I startle you awake too badly to sleep?” 

The smile he gives you is small for all the fondness it contains. “No, I’m getting tired too. Ready to try sleeping again? If I notice you stirring, I can wake you if you like.” 

You feel like you could cry again, but for completely different reasons. “I’d really appreciate that. Thank you.” 

“It’s nothing.” He sets his head on the pillow next to yours, the backs of his knuckles resting gently against the side of your hand. “Goodnight, love.” 

You let the weight of your eyelids win, the darkness behind them more welcoming with Remus beside you. “Goodnight.” 

You don’t wake again until morning. 

[sixosix]

PLASTIC FLOWERS | LYNEY

i. summary the great magician lyney wooing nine-to-fiver reader

ii. tags 1.8k words, fluff, reader is a little slow but hey that’s what 9-to-5 does to someone, pining lyney, awkward flirting, and a lot of wilted flowers im sorry…

You’ve heard of Lyney and Lynette in passing before. You might’ve rushed past one of their street performances once or twice, or maybe you stumbled upon flyers promoting their grand shows fluttering past. However, today, they are the center of every discussion, particularly Lyney, from your gushing coworkers. They swoon about how charming the young man was to them, and how exceptionally talented twins are.

You start to feel a little left out. You want to witness what all the excitement is all about, too. Your nine-to-five has you rushing back and forth the streets of Fontaine like there’s no tomorrow—and to your defense, with all the rumors and prophecies floating around, it might as well be that case.

Afternoon. Nearly evening. Your legs feel like water, liquid, and unable to keep themselves upright. You’re like a zombie walking back to your humble abode, drained of human life from too much human interaction.

A round of applause has you slowing your steps, your attention pulled towards a small crowd as if struck by a magnetic force.

A young man stands at the center, grinning devilishly as the crowd once again erupts into gasps of awe. He clutches a deck of cards in his hand, the classic image of what comes to mind when you think of magicians. Yet, you find yourself unable to move. It might be your water-legs; it might be how the man has everyone spellbound.

“Thank you, everyone!” he says, and the spell is broken at once. Was it a spell? It felt like one. “Be sure to come next week to Lynette and I’s performance at the Opera Epiclese, alright?” So he is Lyney.

Witnessing his elegance and heart-stealing smirk, you at least now know that your coworkers were certainly telling the truth.

The crowd filters out one by one. You do the same, wondering how much the tickets would cost. Hopefully no more than your usual dinner; that would mean you’d have to eat frozen bread for an entire evening.

“Wait, wait!”

You turn at the frantic exclamation, startled when Lyney is looking directly at you and rushing toward you. Panicked, you quickly scan your surroundings, only to find that there’s no one else he could possibly be referring to.

Just you.

“Hello,” you murmur begrudgingly once he’s at a close distance.

“Hi,” he says back, a little breathless. “You missed the show earlier.”

“I—I did.” Is he seriously talking to you? “But don’t worry! I saw enough. It was really cool!” Really? It was really cool?

He relaxes, his smile turning pleased. Lyney’s gaze feels heavy when you’re the only one holding onto it. “That’s a shame. I’ve seen you around before, zipping through. I won’t let you slip through my fingers this time around.”

His voice is smooth. You find yourself liking the lilac of his eyes.

At your stunned silence, Lyney continues, “Here, watch my hand closely, alright?”

You nod obediently, mostly to conceal how flustered his presence is making you feel. It feels as if his voice is right beside your ears, or it might just be how it seems like the world quiets down for this moment.

He closes his palm. You hear him huff a sweet laugh. You get distracted and glance up, though it seems it was a mistake. He grins at you knowingly, eyes twinkling—his stupid, dark eyes. You look back down, and a flower has magically appeared square on his palm.

It’s a flower you’re unfamiliar with, but it’s beautiful and smells sweet so you find yourself uncaring of whatever it could mean.

He stares patiently.

You blink, dumb-struck. “For me?”

“Of course,” he says with a dazzling grin.

“Oh, thank you, but I— I really don’t know how to take care of these things, and I’m so busy, I don’t know if I should—”

You reject it. Which, in hindsight, was most rude.

Lyney tilts his head, smiling like you’re some cute cat he found passing by—and that gaze has your words dying on your tongue. “I’m not giving it to you for you to feel burdened with the responsibility of taking care of it. Trust me, I just want you to have it.”

You look at him, uncertainty flashing in your expression. “You don’t want to give it to someone else…?”

“Why would I? I saved this one especially for you,” the sweet talker says.

You highly doubt his words, but it’s nice to hear nevertheless. With a bashful smile, you take the flower and vow to yourself to take care of it as much as you can. It’s the only flower you’ve received your entire life.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

He lights up impossibly, standing out so easily against the crowd. Just like that, you’re captivated.

The next day, Lyney reappears in your life. You're beginning to suspect that his hat conceals an infinite stockpile of these roses, and maybe that's the true magic: the enigma of Lyney's never-ending supply.

This time around, he’s loitering the streets without plans for any performances, however small. Though, he still entertains you in different ways.

“My work’s not too nice,” you tell him when he asks why you look tired, all too aware of your sore feet and cheeks from straining smiles all day. “I don’t know how you performers do it non-stop. I feel like I could just sleep on this sidewalk.”

“It might be helping that I love doing what I do,” Lyney supplies after a thoughtful hum. It’s still a little surreal having the man printed in posters and pictures all over The Steambird is now casually walking alongside you, but it’s nice. You feel your world has just brightened up a little—the new change of pace painting over the dull back and forth you’ve been living through for a while.

“Hey,” Lyney starts, as your eyes flick up from the ground to him. He’s holding another flower.

You smile as you gingerly take it from his fingers, skin brushing against his glove-free hands. “You’re helping the flower shops thrive, that’s for sure.”

“What can I say? I’m wonderful like that.”

You laugh, but it quickly dies down when you catch a glimpse of how Lyney is staring at you so openly with a bit of awe.

You clear your throat, looking away.

Lyney does the same as you find your face heating up. “Sorry.”

“Um,” scrambling for a change of topic, you say, “Are you trying to get me to watch the show you and your sister are holding next week?”

“What?” Lyney blinks, caught off guard. He smiles lopsidedly as you await for an answer. “No, I’m talking to you because I like you. And here I thought I was making myself obvious.”

“Sorry, I’m a bit slow,” you say, in a daze at his blunt confession.

That was nothing (that has to be). That was probably just your imagination, honestly—fantasizing about a handsome face, a small braid, and a mischievous grin. And you definitely don’t find yourself lying awake at night thinking about it.

As always, Lyney comes with a flower in hand. And you find out that he wasn’t lying when he said he saves a special flower for you.

You’re not sure how it seamlessly became a routine with him. At times, you wonder if he’s actually keeping track of the roses if you haven’t been throwing them to the trash. You wouldn't be able to deny it; you eventually would have to discard a once again graying rose, no matter how heartbreaking the parting is.

This time, you’re prepared. You've been studying up, like a lovesick high school student devouring dating magazines during your spare moments at work. The rose will still most likely wilt unfairly fast with how you’re barely a presence in your own home; sleeping soundly as soon as you arrive.

Lyney is smiling softly as he gives this one to you, silent. Though that’s probably because you’re raving on about how you swear that the next ones he’ll give will live longer if you figure out how to do it right.

He likes doing that—staring at you like watching a film play even though he’s the one on stage more often than not.

“Do you know what all those flowers I gave you mean?” he asks as you’re twirling it around and counting the petals. They’re still bright pink, fading to yellow at its tips. You shake your head. It could mean anything, really. You haven’t gotten to that part of the book yet. “My feelings for you,” he says. “I give them to you every day so you’re reminded of it.”

Your finger catches on one of the petals, your skin burning. “…Is that what you think? I feel horrible; the flowers you’ve given me all die in a day or two.”

Lyney laughs. “Is that what you’re worried about?”

“How else can I show you I’m not just casting your feelings aside?”

You turn to Lyney, wondering why he suddenly went silent. Only then, you see how he has his face buried in his palm, a dazed smile peeking out from what’s visible. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

“...Sorry.”

He recovers fast. “Don’t be sorry.” Lyney holds your jaw in a precise grip, keeping your gaze focused on him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

It’s only the next morning do you realize that the petals haven’t changed at all. You’re not sure why you haven’t noticed earlier.

Then again, you should’ve realized when he brought up what they mean so suddenly, that slick bastard.

Lyney sees you around the afternoon, and immediately he sees something new around your collar, probably because he keeps staring at it.

Lyney pulls you closer with a hand on the small of your back, and the other inspecting your brand-new necklace. “Is this…?”

It was a bit difficult to craft your own accessory, but you tried nevertheless. If Lyney goes out of his way to purchase different kinds of flowers, the least you can do is show him that each one makes you as happy as the first one did.

“You said they’re kind of like your feelings, right?” you say, unsure as to why you’re whispering. Lyney’s expression looks a little fragile. “So I made them into something to remind me of you every day.”

He presses his face onto your neck, and you nearly lose balance, holding onto the back of his head to keep yourself upright. “You’re too cute, amour. My heart can’t handle all of this,” he weeps dramatically.

( “Close your mouth, Lyney. You’re drooling,” Lynette says as she follows his gaze, watching you flutter past.

Lyney’s mouth snaps shut, wiping at his lips. He frowns. “I wasn’t even drooling.” He shakes his head. “Nevermind that—do you know who that was?”

“No,” Lynette says simply. “But I’m sure you’ll find a way to figure out eventually.” )

lyney went back to giving you real flowers after that btw

this was inspired by me daydreaming about lyney’s character quest and remembering that he literally gave us that flower accessory

[fernclans]

MOON 07. (part 2) (tw; trauma, cliffhanger AGAIN sorry)

Starring: Dashpaw (BuddingClan), Cliffstripe (BuddingClan), Amberpaw (BuddingClan), Cougarkit (BuddingClan), Cowkit (BuddingClan), Pinekit (BuddingClan)

The sound of frantic pawsteps could be heard first, Amberpaw growing alert and rising from her spot near Cliffstripe where they’d been chatting. Part of his hearing damaged by his loss of an ear, it seemed the ginger warrior was unaware something was approaching before his companions demeanor changed, looking up at her quizzically with his remaining yellow eye.

“Someone’s coming.” She meows simply, fixated on the camp's entrance. Cliffstripe pulls himself into a sitting position, trying to prepare himself for anything.

Dashpaw is a blur when he breaks through the clearing; had it not been for the unfamiliar scent he carried with him, the ginger warrior might not have been able to tell that he even had a kit held firmly in his jaws. The half-white tom locks his eyes on Amberpaw, making a b-line to her and promptly placing the kitten a tail-length in front of her paws.

“I need you to look after him.” Without waiting for a response, he turns his head towards Cliffstripe. “Cliffstripe, I need you to follow me. There are two more kits still. Flippaw is running a diversion, but I don’t know how much time she’ll have.”

Cliffstripe nods firmly. “Got it.” In an instant, he’s on his paws, muscles tensing and preparing for a run.

“A diversion!?” Amberpaw shouts, looking desperately at Dashpaw for more details. “Dashpaw what-”

“There’s no time to explain right now! I’ll tell you everything in a bit!” In typical Dashpaw fashion, he’s gone before she could finish her questioning. Cliffstripe shoots her an apologetic glance before taking off after the other tom.

Giving a sigh, Amberpaw slumps back onto her haunches and looks down at the young kit that was placed at her paws. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, kit. I’m Amberpaw.” She offers the tan tabby a kind smile, thinking back to the time when Flippaw was still this small and hoping to StarClan the molly was going to be alright.

--

“Explain to me what’s going on.” Cliffstripe says firmly between the pounding of his paws. “What do I need to know?”

Dashpaw was a few paces ahead of him, leading the way. He doesn’t spare a glance back at the warrior, and hopes that his voice can be heard well enough from his position. “Flippaw and I were in the outer fields -- she smelled blood, I smelled a wolf. I tried to leave, but she found these kits instead-” He stops for a second to catch his breath before continuing. “-she said she was going to lead the wolf away so we could get the kits! She didn’t even give me a choice about it!”

Were it not for the severity of the situation, Cliffstripe would almost find it humorous; perhaps Dashpaw had rubbed off more on the younger molly than he had thought. “Did you find their mother?”

“I’m guessing that’s the source of the blood-smell.” Dashpaw shouts back grimly.

Try as he did, Dashpaw couldn’t catch a single trace of Flippaw’s current whereabouts; maybe that was for the best? Hopefully that meant she was successful in leading the beast away.

When they reached the remaining two kits, one of them had started crying out for its mother, the sound of her tiny voice causing Cliffstripe’s heart to ache. To lose one's family so young… He approaches the kit slowly, lowering himself to appear less threatening. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” The other kit, the blue one, hisses and lashes a tiny paw out defensively. Her sister waddles forward on unsteady paws and sniffs at Cliffstripe curiously.

“This is sweet and all, Cliff’, but we gotta be going.” Dashpaw warned, tail twitching nervously behind him.

Drawing himself back up, Ciffstripe licks at his chest, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Ah- no, you’re right.” He turns back to the pair of kittens and picks up the remaining brown and white she-kit, Dashpaw following suit and grabbing the cranky blue one before making themselves scarce.

--

By the time they return, Amberpaw has put a nest together for the kits; lined with downy feathers from an earlier catch, it seemed the mottled tabby kit Dashpaw had brought in before had already taken up residency within. With the other two kits placed into the nest, they greet each other excitedly, the blue kit pouncing sloppily onto her brother.

“Is that all of them?” Amberpaw asks, looking at the toms.

“These are all the ones Flippaw and I found.” Dashpaw confirms.

An uneasy silence fills the clearing at the mention of the spotted apprentice’s name. Her plan was so hurried that they didn’t take the time to discuss where they’d meet up after, where she planned to goad the wolf into chasing her, really anything.

“She’ll be okay.” Cliffstripe meows, causing the others to look at him.

“How can you be so sure? She’s only been an apprentice for two moons!” Amberpaw’s voice is harsher than she intended it to be, and she flinches back from her own voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, I just-”

Cliffstripe shakes his head. “It’s okay, I understand. Just believe in her, okay? Dashpaw did, I’m going to choose to do so as well. If Flippaw thought she could manage this, then I trust her.”

Amberpaw looks uncertain still, but remains silent and simply nods. As confident as she was in herself, she struggled to find the kind of trust that Cliffstripe seemed to have in everyone.

Seeming uncomfortable with just sitting around, the molly turns her attention back to the trio of kits and tries to usher them off of the nest. “Come on, I’ll bring you inside so you can sleep.”

Dashpaw fights the urge to argue their nest placements; now wasn’t the time. He looks back to Cliffstripe, worry knitted in his brow. “When should we go out to look for her?”

“When the moon is high. I want to make sure we give her enough time and don’t meet the wrong end of a wolf.” Again. He nods back silently, light-blue gaze fixated on the stars beginning to fill the sky. ‘StarClan, if you really exist… you better keep her safe.’

[arachine]

warnings: canon-verse!ethan, male masturbation (not explicit), voyeurism (ethan listening to chad x f!reader), not proofread, literally typed this up before class >.< word count: 850 note: an idea that i want to eventually expand upon! hopefully people will be interested in a full fledged fic *ੈ✩‧₊˚

ethan who touches himself and listens through the wall whenever you’re over fucking chad. he can’t stand it. can’t stand that chad gets to have his way with you. can’t stand that the only sliver of you he gets is through a wall—and you’re so loud, every single time. all moans and drawls, equal parts pornographic and angelic. it’s fucking annoying is what it is.

sometimes he thinks you’re performing. making a show of it so that chad can finish, because chad couldn’t really be that good, could he? sure, he was a jock—had the brawn and stereotypical letterman jacket to prove it—but by no means did his reputation as a sex god actually hold any weight. couldn’t have. the guy doesn’t even know his right from his left—so there was no way in hell he knew where the clit was. or how to make a girl cum with his tongue in under five minutes. 

or maybe he did. maybe ethan wasn’t giving him enough credit—but he settled on the former. because, if it wasn’t a performance, and all those moans—all those noises were real—then ethan thinks you’re doing it for him. that you’re this loud because you want him to hear. and he tells himself that the things you’re saying to chad are what you’re really saying to him. that those cries of ‘too much, can’t take it chad’s and those ‘you feel so good’s are all for him. 

and if he really concentrates, he can hear you saying his name instead of his roommate’s. four letters turn into five. two syllables instead of one, and they drip from your lips in dulcet tones. 

ethanethanethan, is what he hears before you make it over your peak. and it’s also the last thing he hears before he’s making a mess in his boxers. until he hears the bed dip in the other room, and then nothing. a loud silence. it’s then when he’s roused from his reverie, and becomes suddenly hyper-aware of the mess he’s sitting in. fucking pathetic. but he doesn’t linger in his self-pity for too long. makes the decision to climb out of bed and fill the silence with his heavy footsteps to the bathroom. 

by the time he rounds the corner, he catches you slipping out of chad’s room. the hallway is dark, just barely illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window, but he can still see the wanes of your face, and the dejected expression you’re wearing. he doesn’t like it. 

“oh, hey,” you whisper when you notice his static silhouette, “he’s asleep. figured i’d use the bathroom before heading out—wait, were you gonna use the bathroom? shit, sorry, you can go first.” 

ethan steps out of the shadows and into the moonlight. “yeah, but it’s alright. go ahead, i’ll just wait out here.” you mutter a quiet thanks before walking in and closing the door. the first thing he hears is you putting the toilet seat down, then he hears you pulling down your night shorts, until finally, he hears you peeing. it fills his throat with bile just thinking about the reason why you’re peeing in the first place. to flush out chad’s cum. yeah, he was aware girls had to pee after sex—regardless of whether or not there was a condom used—but he knew chad didn’t use condoms. at least, not with you. 

he knew as much because the jock bragged about it before. told him that you were ‘on the pill’ and wanted him to ‘finish inside’ since your relationship was transitioning from friends-with-benefits to something with a little more commitments. you weren’t dating, per se, but you weren’t seeing anyone else—which makes him mad. furious, even. because ethan knew you, well, he was starting to get to know you. and he knew that you deserved someone who could feed your brain with intellectual thoughts. someone who could please you, who would protect you—kill for you. 

someone like him. you deserve…him. the turn of a knob pulls him from his thoughts, and once again, he’s flashing you that faux-sweet smile, only this time, the entirety of his face is illuminated from the light of the bathroom. 

“alright, thanks for letting me use the bathroom. i better go,” you gesture with a thumb pointing behind you, “have a good night, ethan.”

“you-“ he opens his mouth to speak, but promptly closes it. it was just barely above a whisper, and yet, you turn around again to face him. 

“what was that?” 

ethan sighs, something long and exasperated. he’s tired. of this, of chad, of you. he wants to sleep, to succumb to the deep-black darkness behind his eyelids when he lays his head down on his pillow later. but he does want to say something. 

you deserve better. that’s what he wants to say—what he was going to say. but instead he just says, “you too.” 

© arachine 2023