#when we spend time on tumblr we think out loud on tumblr

[eveningsandcoffeespoons]

I feel like if my mid-to-late 20s were about exploring possibilities and saying yes to things that scare me, my early 30s are about identifying my boundaries and saying no to things that don’t serve my values

like. not all challenges (difficult things) are challenges (summons to the test) and also not all summons are worthy

[sjywrites]

༊*·˚ Prada & Versace

: ̗̀➛ 𝓢ugar 𝓓addy!𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung x 𝓕!reader. 𝓖enre smut, fluff, age gap, s2l. 𝓢ypnosis where reader is a broke and single college student celebrating her best friends birthday, and at said party she meets someone who might solve more than just one of her problems. 𝓦𝓒 estimated 5-10k. 𝓒𝓦 age gap, oral (f! and m! receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), pet names (good girl, baby, slut in an affectionate way!), mentions of alcohol, both hee and reader smokes, reader is a bit intoxicated but still fully aware of what she’s doing.

𝓝ote this is a sneak-peak of the actual story, this is the first story I’ve ever posted on tumblr so if you see anything that I can improve, please let me know. I want the first story I post to be good enough for me to be motivated to keep writing!

This is purely fiction and is not meant to interpret how the idols act in real life!

,, not proofread + english is not my first language ! ೃ⁀➷

Flashing lights, loud music and the smell of sweaty bodies. That’s what most clubs look like, and this one was no different.

It was Ryujins 19th birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it with just her closest friends and her girlfriend. That’s why Y/N agreed to it in the first place. She’s not used to social settings and spends most of her time stressing over finals, so being forced into a social setting wasn't making her any less stressed. Her and Ryujin are the complete opposite of each other and she can’t really remember how they became best friends, but somehow they did. And that’s why she’s in this position right now, pressed between strangers in a club that reeked of alcohol, dressed in a skimpy black dress that barely covered her up.

“Hey Y/N, get me another drink will ya’!” Ryujin shouted and laughed, fully intoxicated. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea Ryu” I said, a little worried about her condition “you’ve had a lot already” I tell her, hoping she would just give up “It’s fineee, I’m fineee, trust!” She laughed and grabbed another beer. I tried to stop her but she was too fast. I just gave up and sighed, trying to reason with her when she’s drunk is like trying to argue with a wall “You’re gonna throw up later I’ll tell you that.” I grabbed my lighter and walked outside for a smoke, leaving her to Yeji, her girlfriend. I love Ryujin, but sometimes she can be a handful to look after.

I walk out on the balcony, leaning against the rack and admire the glowing night sky, letting the cold wind run over my body. It’s a relaxing moment until I hear someone approaching and I assume it’s either Ryujin or Yeji, until they lean against the rack beside me. Build too big to be either of them, I look over in their direction. A tall, hot guy with glasses stands there. He lights a cigarette and looks over to me. I forgot how to breathe for a moment, embarrassed, I looked away slightly. When I look back to see if he’s still there, we make eye contact. He’s close enough that I can feel the heat roaming around him. And I can't tell if it’s the embarrassment or the close contact with the man that makes my cheeks heat up, but I’d rather not find out.

I take a look at the man in front of me, scanning him up and down. Dressed in a suit too fine to be worn at a basic club, hair styled in a way that makes it look almost untouched, and his eyes, his eyes were so easy to get lost in. I snap out of it when I realize I’d been staring for a while, a slight smirk on the man's lips as he leans down to my level.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”

✩ ♬ ₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N please let me know if you want me to finish it! Likes and reblogs are very much appreciated ♡ (Also someone please teach me how to make my posts aesthetic I've never posted on Tumblr before so I don't know how it works 😔)

[chaoticloving]

idk if you write smut so if you’re uncomfortable totally ignore this!!! but!!! imagine y/n and recently fiance!harry and him fingering you with his ring finger talking abt marriage and shit 🫣🫣

future husband

Harry styles x reader (masterlist)

summary: Harry proposes and it leads to sex

warnings: smut

a/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK TOO LONG I JUST NEEDED TO BE IN THE RIGHT MOOD TO WRITE SMUT AND THEN TUMBLR DIDNT PUT IT IN THE TAGS AHHH

Harry's ring obsession started when he was in his early twenties.

He rarely wore any type of a jewelry or anything flamboyant when he was younger. He painted his nails on occasion, something to relax himself with or whenever Y/n was doing hers, but nothing too grand.

But a simple silver chain given by his one and only changed that.

He started getting a little more into jewelry, necklaces, earrings, and his favorite, rings. He liked the intricate designs that rings ment; they could be loud and a stable piece, or they could be a subtle addition to the outfit.

They could also symbolize love.

After dating Y/n for three months, he knew he was certain that he wanted to stay forever with her, he just didn't allow himself to think of marriage this early into a relationship--at least not until his mother asked when he was going to propose after meeting her around their six-moth anniversary.

Finally though, after just under two years, he popped the question. He got a beautiful engagement ring, a band with beautiful engravings throughout, and of course, a huge fucking rock.

"Harry." Y/n sniffled, seeing Harry on his knee, ring in hand. "Of course, yes!"

A lovely proposal in a quiet and quant cottage away from civilization was perfect and exactly what they needed, not only for their privacy but for the ability to have sex in the middle of the woods. Harry bought this property not too long ago and waited for the right moment to take Y/n there, a proposal seemed like the best time.

The kissing of course led to more, how could it not? Harry was always a passionate lover, always eager to please, so it was honestly no surprise when the soft kiss turned more sensual.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you finally asked." Y/n mumbled softly as their lips kept touching, coming back for more. "Can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you as my husband."

Harry moved onto her neck, biting softly as he went down. "It's all I've ever wanted." He groaned as Y/n's hand trailed down to his pants, she teased him slightly, earning a moan from him. "And to please you again. Lay down."

Y/n made herself comfortable on the blue and white picnic blanket. Harry moved the basket and wine bottles out of the way. He pulled flipped her dress up, revealing her lacy set on panties.

"Planning to seduce me today?" He asked with a raised brow.

"I had a hunch you might be asking me to marry you." She shrugged her shoulders, biting her lip to hide, poorly, a cheeky smile.

"How?" Harry gasped, his fingers tracing the band of her underwear. "It was top secret!"

"Oh come on, H." She giggled, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "You take me on a surprise getaway, no one around, to a cottage that is darling... It's the most romantic thing you have ever done."

Harry blushed. The midday sun gleaming perfectly on his skin, twinkling his green eyes and highlighting the freckles that scattered his slightly tanned skin. Y/n couldn't help but feel so lucky. This beautiful man, inside and out, is now her fiancé; she started to tear up, which, of course, caused Harry to tear up as well.

"No don't start baby." She told him. "We need to focus so we can have sex. No tears now."

She wiped her tears then Harry's. "You started it." He mumbled, smiling as he finally pulled her panties down. "We just love each other too much."

"I guess so-" Y/n gasped as Harry entered a figure into her. The familiar feeling was welcomed as the subtle feeling of pleasure began to buble up inside of her. "Fuck that feels so good."

Harry was leaning half on and half off of her, his right hand fingering. her while his other held him up so he could kiss by her ear.

"Don't get one of your rings stuck in me." She warned, looking sternly at her love. Harry shook his head and kissed her softly.

"I would never."

Harry had on a simple band, one similar to the new one adorned on Y/n's finger. He figured while he was buying the engagement ring he could buy a matching one for himself.

"I can't wait to marry you." He spoke softly, creating a new hickey just under her ear lobe. "Gonna wanna fuck you again when I see you in that dress, don't know if I could wait till the honeymoon."

He added a finger, adding to the pleasure.

"And seeing you with that ring...It's going to be as sexy as your lingerie. Just knowing you're mine and I'm the only one that can ever see you like this."

"Fuck, H. Gonna come."

"I'm the only one who will get to see my wife like this. And everyone will know I can only to this do you...I'm the only one capable." Harry's words were possessive yet reassuring, the constant validation that he was the only one for her pushed her over the edge, leaving a gasp from her mouth.

"Har I need you inside." She yanked him fully on-top of her, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down after Harry quickly pulled his fingers out of her, but not before a little taste.

He helped her strip himself, knowing she is just as possessive as him but just doesn't always vocalize it, but her actions speak louder than her lack of words.

Harry entered Y/n, the euphoric feeling washing over him as he let out a loud moan, mentally thanking himself for buying the isolated land. "Feel so good."

"You stretch me out so much." She gasped. "My future husband."

Harry thrusted, a reflex from her words in her sexy, faint, voice. "Don't say that or else I'm going to come in less then a minute." He paused, staring into his loves eyes. "Want to impress my future wife."

"You impress me every day. Every time I see you I have something new I love about you." Y/n leaned in a kissed him, it was mainly teeth, but still perfect nonetheless. "Today it's your cock."

Harry stopped thrusting briefly. "You mean it hasn't impressed your before today?"

"It's the first time I've been impress by my fiancé's cock, I was already impressed when he was my boyfriend." She assured. Harry rolled his eyes and got back to thrusting, moving his ring finger down to her core and rubbing soft circles on her clit, making her jolt slightly.

"I'm gonna cum again, H."

"Me too."

They both moaned as they climaxed at the same time. Harry collapsed onto Y/n's chest, arms exhausted from keeping himself up. They stayed like that for no more then five minutes, Harry's cock softening inside of her as they relaxed.

"I can't believe you're going to be my wife." Harry thought out loud. "Never thought I'd work up the courage."

"Why? You knew I'd say yes."

"I dunno, just all the what-if's got inside my head. You know how that is." Harry mumbled, nuzzling his face into the side of her neck. He kissed over her blooming hickeys too, soft contrast between his sexual and romantic desire for her.

"Well your next biggest concern is finding were to go for our honeymoon." Y/n said. "Might have to go all over."

"I'll pay for every penny of it."

"Most defiantly. You know I have expensive taste." Y/n joked. "The wedding is going to cost half a fortune on its own."

Harry smiled, kissing her cheek then her lips. "I'd spend all the money in the world to make you happy. I'd go broke to see you smile."

"Stop, you're going to make me cry again." She whispered, tears starting to form.

"I'll just kiss them away, my love." He sighed. "It's my job as your future husband."

[yxngbxkkie]

ramen in the cold room (h.h)

okay 😭 this is the third time i've written this 😭 tumblr hates me. the sauna video was so cute, and i'm falling deeply into hyune's arms 🥹 i hope you all enjoy this cute little thing 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 💓

~

You stand on your tiptoes, resting your chin against your boyfriend's shoulders. "What are you getting?" You ask him quietly, tilting your head to look up at him.

"Well, angel, I thought we could get some ramen and eat it in the cold room," Hyunjin mentions to you nonchalantly.

"Excuse me?" You ask, your eyes widening at his suggestion as you move your body so you're standing beside him. "You want to eat in the cold room? Why?"

Hyunjin laughs embarrassingly, turning his head to look down at you. "I just think it'd be romantic, don't you?" He mutters sweetly.

"It's an idea for sure," you cry a bit while glancing towards said room. You pout your lips as your eyes meet his again. "If I get too cold, can I sit on your lap?"

The black-haired beauty laughs but nods his head in agreement. The two of you decided to go to the nearest sauna place. Hyunjin's been really busy with the other members, and his muscles are starting to ache more and more. You wanted to spend time with him, so you suggested this place, stating that it'd be a cute date.

After he orders the two bowls of ramen, you stand behind him off to the side, tying his hair up in low pigtails. You giggle at how cute he looks and gently massage the back of his head.

Hyunjin hums, leaning into your massaging. One of his arms reaches back to you, feeling his fingers gliding along your hip. "I love you, you know," he sighs before turning his head to look at you.

"I love you too, Hyune," you grin widely, standing on your toes to kiss his lips.

The staff member comes back with your food, handing one to each of you. You both thank the gentlemen before making your way into the ice room.

"You go first," you giggle, stepping aside so Hyunjin can step forward.

"Don't be a baby," he jokes with you, sticking his tongue out. You shake your head as he steps into the glass box. "It's not too bad."

You groan once more before making your way inside. A shiver runs down your spine as you sit down beside him, your thighs touching. "It's a little chilly," you whisper loud enough for him to hear.

Hyunjin watches you as you begin to eat the steaming noodles. He subconsciously mixes his ramen together as he stares, not being able to take his eyes off of you.

You scrunch your face as you shove the noodles past your lips, humming contents at the taste. You quickly take in another batch when you feel Hyunjin's eyes on you. You're in the middle of chewing when you glance up at him.

He smiles at your full cheeks, noodles hanging past your lips as you stare at him so innocently. "You're breathtaking," he tells you, his dark eyes full of love for you.

You can feel the tips of your ears getting warmer. You hope that they're already red from the cold. The two of you have been together for almost a year, and you've never seen him look so… smitten.

"I'm just eating noodles?" You question him, shoving him to the side with your arm.

Hyunjin chuckles and buries his face into your neck. "You're breathtaking twenty-four seven, angel," he kisses your skin.

"Baby," you whine, looking down at his ramen, which is currently getting cold. "Eat first. You can praise me afterward."

You go back to eating your noodles, glancing towards Hyunjin every few seconds. You both eat in silence. The only sound echoing off the walls is your slurping.

"Thank you for doing this with me," Hyunjin mentions suddenly, causing your gaze to move to him again. He finished his bowl and set it down on the bench beside him. "I can see you shivering."

"I'd do anything for you, Hyune," you confess to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "I want to fulfill all of your romantic dreams."

He hums, dipping down to kiss the crown of your head. "I am so in love with you," Hyunjin confesses as well, lacing his fingers with yours. "There's nobody better than you, angel."

"Guess you're stuck with me then."

Hyunjin grins ear to ear as you tilt your head up. "I am two hundred percent okay with that," he whispers before kissing your lips.

~

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together.

afab!reader x aged up Clapton Davis

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 3.9k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, p in v, fingering, hair pulling, porn with plot, no use of y/n, hard dom, unprotected (wrap it please), angst, exes, daydreamed violence, aged up character

A/N: I’ve never posted my writing before due to being insecure, but now that I discovered this fandom on Tumblr, I decided to suck it up and see where it goes! I’m sorry if this is bad, I wrote it at 3 am two nights in a row. I just had to write something before I forgot all my ideas. Enjoy!

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You hated him. You hated him so fucking much. All you wanted to do was watch him wear your hands around his neck like a necklace. And there he was, standing outside the vacant apartment beside yours, cardboard boxes surrounding him.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You're running late to work, having slept through your alarm. You quickly hop out of bed, jump into the shower, and throw on whatever clean enough clothes are on your laundry pile.

As you run out your door, you pause, noticing the piles of boxes lining up the wall of the apartment next to yours. You smile, waiting for whoever it is to walk out. You honestly didn’t mind your previous neighbors. By all means, they weren’t the friendliest of people. They’d bang on your walls if you even played your music one digit too loud.

So, honestly, you couldn’t help but admit you were pretty happy when they moved out. As you eye the boxes that take up half the hall, you feel yourself getting excited.

After a few moments, you see him.

Your heart drops, and you feel your whole life falling apart in just one second. He turns to look at you, your eyes locked on each other. Both of you pause, not a word leaving your mouths.

Almost exactly 2 and a half years ago, the love of your life, the man you pictured spending the rest of your days with, left. He didn’t warn you, he didn’t even call. You came home, and all of his and his sister's belongings were completely cleared out of your apartment, gone without a trace. All he left you was a text. A single text.

“I found someone new, I’m sorry. I truly wish you the best. I hope someday you’ll forgive me.”

After a few months of rotting in your bed with mascara-stained pillows and tear-soaked bed sheets, you got tired of wasting away. You moved away to a new, cheaper apartment, not warning anyone of your departure. You wanted a fresh start. A new job, a new home. A new you. All you craved was a way to forget the past, and you were so close.

Except after 2 years, the past was standing in front of you, only a few feet away. Anger bubbles within you, the deep cuts he left when he abandoned you all of those years ago tearing open and filling with nothing but pure, burning hatred.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You say, his face twisting.. into god knows what. You want to ask him so many questions. You want to get on your knees and beg him to tell you why he did what he did. At the same time, you want to sock him in his mouth. Instead of doing either, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as you possibly can.

He doesn’t call after you, he doesn’t chase you. Instead, you hear the faint click of a door shutting behind you. Your anger turns to anguish as you hurry down the hallway, trying desperately to put as much distance between him and you before breaking down. You find a maintenance closet, slam it behind you, and sink to the floor. You sob until your throat is destroyed and your eyes are dry.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

All you can think about while you work is him. Are you grading your students' homework? Mike. You’re yelling at your class for being too Rowdy? Mike. He lives in your head the entire day, and no matter how hard you try, all you can think of is the look on his face when he saw you just a few hours ago.

The school day is finally over, but you dread going home. You wish you could curl up under your desk and live there for the next few decades. But you can’t, so you suck it up and drive back to your apartment.

You get to your door, fumbling with your keys as you quickly try and escape the hallway. You hear the door next to yours click open. You rest your head against your door in defeat. He walks by you quickly, not even glancing towards you. You clench your fists, swinging your door open as soon as you unlock it, slamming it so hard behind you the frame shakes.

You want to cry, just like you did before. But no tears spill. Your eyes don’t even water. All you feel is rage.

You decide right then and there, you're going to make him suffer for what he did to you. Besides, maybe if you truly make him miserable he’ll move back to wherever the hell he came from.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Later that night, you start plotting different ways you can get him to pack up his shit and run away with his tail between his legs. You think of hundreds of possibilities ranging from glitter bombs in his mail to… Clapton. You shake the thought out of your head immediately. You can’t do that to him. He’d probably be down for anything, to be honest.

Despite that, you tuck the idea into the back of your head, writing it off as a last resort. You want to start with more petty things before immediately jumping to the most extreme idea your mind can muster.

You quickly form a short list in your head, smiling as you daydream the look on Mike's face as you go through each scenario. Around midnight, after you finish coming up with every possible insane revenge plot you can think of, you crawl into bed.

After tucking yourself in, you Bluetooth your phone to a speaker, turning it up. You play the most infuriating, mind-numbing song you can think of. It starts blasting out, the speaker shaking on your bedside table. You sigh, sinking into your pillow as you hear Mike’s old bed springs creak through the wall.

You sit there for what feels like hours, the same song looping repeatedly. He doesn't knock on the door. You don't even hear him speak, let alone breathe through the wall. You groan, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you realize it might be pointless.

Despite your failure on the first night, you continue to blast the same song night after night, all with the same result. After almost 3 nights of getting only a few hours of sleep, you give up. You have to step up your game if you want to get results.

A few weeks pass without you tormenting him. You want to make him feel safe. You want to make him feel like you realized it was all a waste of time. Well, you also waited a few weeks since that's how long it took for the prank package you ordered to come. Sure, the package was a bit pricey, but you decided it was worth it either way. As soon as the post office stops by your apartment, you snatch up the box, almost ripping it out of the poor mailman's hands.

You quickly customize it so Mike believes not only is it his mail, but that some random man from Florida sent it. At first, you had thought to sneak into his apartment and throw glitter over everything, just like you'd do back in high school. But, you need to be careful about how you go about this. Unless you want a lawsuit to land in your lap, you need at least some amount of deniability

After deciding it's perfect, you leave it directly in front of his door. He might think the placement of the box is a tad suspicious, but you rationalize it by telling yourself he’ll feel so special he’ll open it on the spot.

After a few hours, Mike comes home from what you assume is work. A part of you wonders why in the world he works on the weekends as well. You forget about the thought quickly as you flip open your phone, watching through the camera that comes with the box. You watch in anticipation as you hear the sound of tape tearing off of the cardboard. Your smile widens as you see Mike's face appear in the frame, peeking into the box.

After a few heartbeats green, blue, and pink glitter explodes directly into his face. He yelps, dropping the box immediately. As soon as the box thunks against the door, more glitter explodes out, covering his entire living room. You hear him groan through the wall, grumbling about how petty and childish you are.

You’re laughing way too hard to even care he knew it was you. Tears start streaming down your face, and you clutch your stomach as you try to breathe. You finally got him. You feel on top of the world as you look at the camera through blurry eyes. All you see is a beet-red Mike decked out in sparkles. You start laughing even harder as he flips off the camera before stomping on it, destroying the feed.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Despite how his misery made you feel at first, you start to get a little less happy as the days pass by. He hasn’t talked to you about it and he hasn’t told anyone what went down, not even the landlord. A fraction of you begins to feel a little worried he might be planning. As you ponder the thought, you hear a knock on your door.

You creep over to the peephole, seeing no one standing at your door. You crack it open, worried Mike might be standing outside, waiting to ambush you. Instead of Mike standing around the corner with an airsoft gun, there's an Amazon package.

You smile, realizing exactly what it is. You ordered soundproof headphones so you could sleep while also torturing Mike. You quickly take it to your kitchen, tearing it open without a second thought.

What. The. Fuck.

Glitter sprays everywhere. Directly into your eyes, all over your dining table, all over the countertops. It even reaches the sink. You scream as you try and claw the glitter away from your face. As you stumble towards the sink, glitter continues to coat your entire kitchen.

This means war.

You immediately flip open your phone, not even bothering to clean the mass of glitter that’s coating your kitchen. You text the one person you know would do anything for you.

“I need you, Clapton.”

He found someone new? Well, so did you. And you’re going to do everything in your power to make sure he fucking knows.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

During your high school years, you and Mike became inseparable. It was the two of you against the world... Until Clapton Davis came along. The three of you became the best of friends. You always knew Mike was jealous of Clapton and how much he captured your attention. Despite how you felt towards him while you were younger, you chose Mike. And he threw it all away for some random bitch.

So, now you’re choosing Clapton.

A month ago, you two decided to reconnect and reminisce about old times. You had him over a few times just to watch a few movies, but the most you’ve done is kiss. Every time he’d come over, you knew he wanted more. And he was getting exactly that.

You lay in bed, waiting for just the right time. Around 2 am, you smile to yourself as you faintly hear Mike shuffle into bed and sigh as he sinks into it. Thank god for the paper-thin walls. You reach over to your bedside table, squinting into the light. You flip to Clapton's contact and text, “Do you think you could come over right now?” You had originally told him to come over the next night, but it had to be at an ungodly hour, or it wouldn't be as satisfying. Almost immediately He texts you back, “Are you okay?”

“I just need to see you sooner.” He immediately texts back a thumbs up, and after a little over 10 minutes you hear a knock at your door. You unzip your hoodie, quickly making your way to the front of your apartment. You open the door and there he is. He clearly had just woken up, wearing a tank top and grey checkered pajama pants. A fraction of you feel bad for calling him over like this, but you push it aside and remember who’s sleeping just on the other side of your bedroom wall.

He raises his eyebrow, unsure of how to ask why you ‘needed him.’ You don’t give any explanation before you throw yourself at him. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. He sucks in a breath, clearly confused. That confusion vanishes when you press yourself against him, pulling his waist against yours.

He wraps his arms around your waist, walking you into your apartment. He walks you backward, your back hitting the kitchen counter. You whimper as you feel him hoist your thigh up, holding it as his hip. Suddenly, he pulls away. Your eyes flutter open and you look up at him, your eyebrow furrowed. You sigh as you see him looking at your kitchen in utter confusion. “What in God's name happened?”

The kitchen is still completely decked out in glitter. The moonlight slithers its way through the window, illuminating the sparkles, making it look like a thousand stars splattered against the walls. You laugh a little, brushing it off. “Nothing Important.” He seems like he wants to say more, but as you grind your hips against his, he immediately forgets it. He groans, bending down to press his lips against your neck.

You tangle your hands through his hair as you feel his lips brush your neck. He starts sucking the skin below your pulse, making you whine into his ear. You gasp as you feel his teeth meet the plush skin, nipping at the sore spot. You slowly start grinding against him harder as his tongue swipes across the already numb skin. He groans against your neck, his breath hot against it.

His fingers slowly brush down your body, leaving goosebumps erupting on every inch he touches. His hand reaches your waistband, fiddling with the elastic. You whine against his shoulder as his fingers dip lower, rubbing your clit through the thin fabric. You slowly grind your hips against his finger, desperate for more friction. He picks you up by your thighs, his fingers digging into the skin. You wrap your legs tight around his waist, holding onto his neck. He quickly carries you to your bedroom, throwing you down as he reaches your bed. He lays you down, sliding next to you.

He presses his lips against yours again, this time wasting no time to dip his fingers into your panties, not even bothering to remove them. He drags his digits through your folds, circling your clit. “Shit, you’re already so wet.” He gasps out. His middle finger teases your entrance before slowly sliding in. He slowly pumps in and out of you, curling his fingers on the spongy parts inside of you, hitting all the right spots.

“You like that?” He asks, and you nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. You feel him add another finger and your walls clench around him. “Fuck!” You cry out, frantically grinding against the palm of his hand begging for more.

He adds a third finger, and you see stars. He pumps faster and faster, bringing you dangerously close to the edge. You just barely overplay your volume, remembering Mike. As soon as your legs begin to shake, he removes his fingers, ruining your orgasm and leaving you feeling empty. Your eyes flutter open and you stare at him, whimpering.

He slowly puts the fingers that were just inside you in his mouth, cleaning them off. You bite your lip as he blinks at you through his long eyelashes, savoring the taste. He smiles down at you once he’s done, sliding your zip-up off your shoulders. He slowly undresses you, a pile of clothes beginning to form on the floor. He leaves you in nothing but your panties. His breath hitches in his throat as he studies every curve of your body.

You do the same to him, helping him pull his shirt off his head. Your hands quickly fly down to his jeans, unbuttoning them and sliding them down to his ankles. His tight grey boxers leave little to the imagination as you see the outline of his hard-on, begging to be free. You do exactly that, pulling them off of him. His dick springs free, hitting his stomach.

Your eyes trail along every vein and detail, taking him in. He’s average, but somewhat girthy. The tip is hard and red, already leaking with pre-cum, slowly dripping down his shaft. You reach out, your thumb collecting it. You stare into his eyes as you suck it off of the pad, a bittersweet taste spreading across your tongue. As soon as your thumb pops out of your mouth, he grips onto your hips, pulling him on top of you. He slides your panties to the side and you moan feeling the cold air hit you. He slides his tip through your folds, collecting the wetness.

You slowly sink down onto him, gasping as his tip enters you. He grips your waist harder, holding you down. “You can take it.” He moans out. He slowly pushes himself in a little more, and you swear you hear him whimper. You cry out, laying down on his chest. “Shit!” He goes inch by inch, and you groan louder and louder as he fills you out.

He pushes in, faster this time, and you finally feel his hips meet yours. “You’re such- Shit! You’re such a good girl.” Suddenly, he grabs you harder by the waist, flipping you over. You gasp as your bare stomach meets the rough sheets of the bed. He grabs your hair, pulling you against his chest, somehow hitting so deep you see white.

You moan out his name louder and louder as each thrust inside of you quickens. He shoves you back down against the bed, thrusting so hard the headboard begins to slam against the wall. You smile into the sheets realizing the torture Mike must be going through right now. “You’re taking me so well…” He grumbles out, pushing deeper into you.

The smile is immediately wiped off your face as he moves one hand away from your hair and slithers it down to your clit. He rubs circles on it with 2 fingers. You grip your fingers into the bed sheets, screaming into the mattress. Your vision starts getting blurry as the knot in your stomach gets tighter and tighter. Pure euphoria tears through you as his fingers quicken as well as his hips.

“I’m close-“ He groans out as your walls clench around him. He rubs faster and faster circles on your clit and your legs start to shake uncontrollably. You scream louder and louder, and your walls start to spasm. Quickly you hurdle over the finish line, coming all over his dick. You feel tears running down your cheeks as you feel him release inside of you, his hips stuttering.

You call out his name one last time before he pulls out of you, lying down next to you. He looks over at you, tears spilling down your face and your fingers still bunched up in the bedsheets. He laughs as you give him a shaky smile.

“I’ve imagined that since grade 12..” He whispers out. He reaches towards you, brushing your hair that’s plastered to your face with sweat. “Me too..” You smile, moving forward to press your lips against his. He kisses you back, pulling you on top of him. He smiles up at you, his face flushed.

“Round two?”

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Your eyes flutter open, the warm sun creeping through the blinds, bathing your room in a warm orange glow. You slowly reach next to you, feeling the muscles on Clapton's back. He stirs, turning onto his back. His eyes slowly open, and he slowly looks over at you. He stretches up, propping himself up on his elbows.

“I better go…” You get up as well, turning and placing your feet on the cold wood floors. You gather up his and your clothes from last night, handing them to him. After you're both dressed, you lead him to your front door. He opens it and steps out into the hallway, starting towards the elevator.

As soon as you hear Mike's door click open, you quickly grab Clapton's wrist, pulling him back towards you. You get on your toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. He grabs your waist, pulling you against him. He slips his tongue in your mouth, his hand untangling your hair. After a few seconds, you pull away, resting your forehead on his.

“I’ll see you around?” He says, smiling. “Of course.” You grin, pecking his cheek. He unwraps himself from you, turns around, and walks away. He doesn’t even seem to notice his old best friend who is standing just a few feet away, watching.

Once Clapton’s out of sight, you turn to look at Mike. Oh, he looks absolutely wrecked. His curls are a tangled mess and the bags under his eyes are even deeper than you’ve ever seen them. He has the same look on his face you’ve seen him have when men would flirt with you on your dates. But, he also just looks.. sad. You expect him to turn back into his apartment and walk away but he speaks instead.

“The glitter wasn’t enough for you, huh?” You scoff, anger filling inside you at his audacity. “A girl can’t have fun?” He raises an eyebrow at you and a small smirk creeps onto his face. “You think I don’t know how purposeful that was? Do you have any respect for others?” You laugh, right in his face. His mouth twists into a nasty scowl, his stupid smirk wiping immediately off his face.

“Mike, I lost every bit of decency I had towards you when you abandoned me for some..” You don’t finish the sentence, instead letting his mind fill in the blank. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks disappointed. He looked at you like that when you were still together.

You’ve always hated that look.

He opens his mouth and closes it, clearly wanting to say something important but deciding against it. He shakes his head and turns back into his apartment, closing the door behind him softly.

You do the same, opening your door and sliding down with your back against it. You pull your knees up to your chest, rubbing the bruises on your sides that Clapton left. You rest your head on your knees and sigh.

“God, what am I doing?”

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

[teethondafloor]

Bill Kaulitz x gn!reader ~ Taking off Bill's makeup after a show.

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Year : 2006

Summary --

You and Bill have been best friends for over three years now and are completely inseparable. You two are partners in crime, ready to mock and poke fun at each other any chance you get, and even more ready to comfort each other right after. Tonight, the band happens to have a gig in your hometown, where you and Bill first met. You attend the concert and text Bill after, thrilled by the band's electric performance, when Bill has other plans in mind...

Bill Kaulitz x gn!reader

Cute friends to lovers arc

Warnings --

basic fluff (touching, kissing, etc)

Note --

This took me way too long to write but IM SO EXCITED TO POST IT AA. this is my first tumblr fanfic (I'm sadly a wattpad user) so sorry if it's bad :D

________.✮.________

{{y/n}} : dude! That was awesom! You rocked!

{{BILL}} : I hope. My throat hurts lol. Where r u?

{{y/n}} : headin home. U?

{{BILL}} : WTF no! I want to c u b4 u leave!

{{y/n}} : cope. Where r u??

{{BILL}} : backstage dressing room. I can sneak you in!

{{y/n}} : I will get caught!

{{BILL}} : no! I am comin for u. Where r u?

{{y/n}} : at the exit doors :P.

{{BILL}} : STAY.

{{y/n}} : OK.

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Standing near the exit doors of the venue, I wait for Bill to emerge from his post-show hideaway as I look around the empty room, which just moments ago was overflowing with screaming fans. I gaze up at the dim lights above, now painting the room in a slight yellow wash which my eyes peer at weakly after standing in the dark for almost 3 hours. The air-con is blasted through the room, the cool air brushing up against my bare arms and slapping me in my face momentarily as it passes me and continues lingering around the room.

After spending some time taking in my surroundings, I snap out of my thoughts and feel the hair on my arms rise, reacting to the cool air circling the area. At the other side of the room near the stage, I hear a sudden rummaging sound coming from the corner, casted with a dark shadow. I squint my eyes a little, wondering if it's Bill that's making all the noise. From the loud clanks and banging sounds, I can tell that the person is struggling through their journey. Must be him, I smile to myself. I slide my hands into my front jean pockets, continuously glancing over to the security who are stood by the doors, surprised that they don't hear the ruckus. I look back at the noise, which now grows fainter as I hear soft footsteps tiptoeing into the concert venue.

As I hear this, I notice a tall, dark figure slowly emerging from the dark corner, the black fog lurking behind it. I smile and take my hands out of my pockets, knowing that its Bill from his giant spiky hair sprouting from his head, which is the first thing I see as he steps into the room. He takes a few light steps closer, just enough to keep himself hidden from the security guards scouring around the area. As he comes closer, his face is lit up by the soft lights above us, making the ends of his dark hair glow beneath the light, and revealing his wide smile as he sees me at last. He's so bad at sneaking around, I scoff gently.

Not wanting to be seen by the employees, Bill stays behind the stage and out of their sight. I look up and see as he nods to the ground beneath him, signalling me to walk over to him. My eyes widen and I look over to the security, trying to communicate to Bill that I can't just walk up to him without being stopped. A puzzled look washes over his face and he bites the inside of his cheek, thinking. I point at the watch that's tied to my wrist, knowing that the doors will soon close for the night and I will be kicked out of the building if we don't hurry. Bill looks down at the ground before turning back to me and nodding, determined to get me backstage with him. At once, He runs back into the black void behind him, leaving me alone in the room again. I inch forward a little, wanting to run after him, before I stop myself, trusting that he has a plan.

One of the security guards at the doors notices me when I shuffle forward and calls to me form afar. "Excuse me, we need you to leave right now." Shit, I think. I freeze up for a second as he calls to me, glancing over to the corner for any sign of Bill one last time. Agitated that he fled, I look down at the floor and back at the guard. "Yeah sorry, I thought I lost something." I lie as an excuse for my long stay. Just as I'm about to take my first step towards the exit, all of the lights in the room shut off by the click of a switch, the dark swallowing everything and everyone in the room. All of the sudden, I hear firm and heavy footsteps running towards me from the opposite side of the room. Before I can even put my other foot on the ground, the footsteps are cut off and I feel as someone grabs my hand and pulls me, running back with me latched onto them. As I feel their hand in mine, I instantly know it's Bill, his many bracelets which cover half of his forearm rubbing up against my wrist as we sprint ahead and disappear behind the stage. The security guard is left clueless when the lights shut off, and speaks to the black void, only getting the sound of his own echo in response "...did you find what you were looking for? Excuse me?..."

________.✮.________

With a tight grip on my hand, Bill leads me into a tight alleyway, between the back of the stage and the dressing room which he climbed through before. The space is shielded from any light and trashed with clutter from previous bands performing at the venue. We giggle as we stop before walking through it. "Hey" he says with a smile, huffing from laugher. I can tell he is facing me, even in the complete darkness that surrounds us. "Hey" I say, lightly breathless from the excitement. We both peer through the tight gap, trying to spot an obstacle to look out for from afar, however, the shade absorbs any object inside, turning them invisible. I hear Bill turn to me again, his breath on my forehead. "Follow me, come on!" He giggles as he lifts up our hands which are still in a warm clasp. "Go!" I whisper whilst still laughing, nudging him forward playfully. Bill starts taking long and cautious steps through the alleyway, hesitating a little when he hits any object beneath us. I follow his lead, being cautious myself. I run my hand across the wall as we walk to keep myself balanced. Halfway through the black tunnel, I hear as Bill kicks an object at his feet. Still walking, I bump into his back, causing me to flinch a little. "Dude. what is it?" I whisper to him. I hear Bill rummaging gently through the junk with his feet, clearing a path for us to walk through. He laughs "I don't know, it scared the shit out of me" We both try and hold in our laughter and continue through the gap.

As we reach the end of the alley, a streak of light peers through a crack in the wall, revealing some of the junk that is spread out on the ground around us: Magazines, cigarettes, a white laced bra....I turn my head to the back of Bill's as I speak. "What is this? your sex dungeon?" I say, smiling with sarcasm in my voice. I hear Bill scoff and smile. "If it is, it's definitely not mine." We both giggle quietly. At last, we reach the end and I step back as Bill lets go of my hand and starts messing with the crack in the wall, which to my surprise, turns out to be a secret doorway to the venue's dressing room. He pushes on the heavy object which blocks the doorway, sliding his fingers under it, trying to shuffle it to the side. Seeing him struggle, I step forward and push the object forward to help, successfully forcing it out of the way.

Before stepping into the dressing room, we take a minute to catch our breaths; I lean on the wall next to me, and look at Bill as he pants. We lock eyes and burst into quiet laughter, still a little breathless. "I need to see this stupid fucking room" I say, smiling. I step away from the wall and finally enter the dressing room. The overhead lights gleam, almost blinding me as I step in, forcing me to raise my hand and shield my eyes from them. I look around, never had been backstage of a concert venue before.

A faint smell of cheap makeup and pungent nail polish lingers in the room, the sharp chemical scent burning my nostrils as I inhale it. I admire the lit up mirrors lined up along the wall, covered in stickers left behind by other musicians however long ago. Bill's and his bandmates' belongings are spread across the room, creating a small pile of clothes and bags on a large bean bag, pushed into the corner of the room. "Where are the others?" I say, referring to his bandmates. I turn my head to look back at Bill who steps into the room with his head titled down, before looking around the room himself. "They're at some party right now." He slides his hands into his pockets.

"They went without you?" I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion, knowing Tom would not leave him out like this. "no no...I didn't want to go...I don't even know where it is, and I'm exhausted." He says as he stretches his arms out gently. "Dude!" I exclaim "We could've went there!" I punch him on the shoulder playfully, causing him to shoot his hands up to his face in defence. "You can go! I'm not going" He says with a judgemental look, teasing.

I hover around the room and view the splash of graffiti on one of the walls, seeing the signatures of hundreds of bands and musicians from the past, piled on top of each other into a barely legible scribble. "How did you even find the sex dungeon?" I'm still looking at the wall when he takes off his leather jacket and throws it at me without warning, as he says with a smile "I got bored waiting for Gustav to set up." a look of surprise bursts onto my face as I catch the jacket in my hands, which I then throw onto the pile with the rest of their junk, laughing.

"So, how do you like my dressing room?" He gestures his arms, showcasing the space and waits for my response. "You are really living the life here...I mean damn. "My eyes follow the walls, stopping to observe the space again. I raise my eyebrows. "You can't help but make it a shithole though." I say sarcastically, picking up a pair of boxer shorts I saw hanging from a chair next to me. He gasps and laughs, stepping towards me and snatching his boxers from my hands before throwing them onto the pile in the corner. I snicker when I see his red cheeks, blushing furiously from embarrassment as I infect him with my laughter. "Shut up! They're gonna hear us in here!" He whispers with a smile stretched wide across his face, still blushing. He walks over to me and gently grabs me by my shoulders, shaking me to stop me from laughing. As he holds me, I put my hand up to my mouth, covering it and muffling out the sounds of my giggles. I then push him away playfully, to which he steps back. "Stop touching everything, you're gonna break something." He whispers in a joking tone.

"Especially not your trunks." I huffed from laughter. Bill blinks slowly, visibly annoyed from my teasing. "I'm serious though, don't break anything because they'll make you pay for it." I notice how he avoids my eyes and tries to change the subject. "Oh come on...I'm not that clumsy. They should make you guys pay for trashing this room so bad." I smile. He looks down, smiling at my comment, his red cheeks growing fainter.

Bill walks over to the vanity across from us, cluttered with his makeup and endless hair products. He sits down, adjusts himself on the chair slightly and looks into the mirror, which reveals a tired face, caked in makeup and hairspray, looking back at him. I walk over to him and sit on the counter next to the mirror, kicking my feet which hang from the tall surface. I take a moment to look at him, as the vanity's warm lights glimmer in his eyes.

"The concert was unreal." I say, breaking the thin silence between us. "I'm glad you came back to play here. You're everything anyone talks about round here since you got so famous." I look over to him, rubbing my arm that is propping me up on the table. I feel a little bitter-sweet about Bill's fame. On one hand I am so proud of what him and the boys have accomplished, in like what...a year? It's insane. Though, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss just hanging out. Being able to sit for hours and do nothing together. They always have something to do now, with no time to sit in the moment. The guilt of this pools inside me. It makes me feel like a brick wall that's cutting him off on his path. My biggest fear however, is Bill not knowing how to break down this wall, quietly tolerating my burden instead. "Really? I noticed so many people from school there, I really didn't want to fuck up." He says, now looking up at me with his head resting on his palm. "I'm pretty sure I saw Leon all the way at the back, poor guy got pushed out of the crowd." We laugh.

"As much as I like traveling around and playing, this feels better. I can't explain it." He smiles as he begins to stumble over his words. "I don't know, it only feels right to perform here you know?" He looks to me.

"Nah I get you, and we're glad you did." I smile at him and my eyes are suddenly drawn to his eye makeup, now rubbing off on his cheeks after every blink. "What?" He says and quickly turns to the mirror, now seeing his smudged eyeshadow. His eyes widen in shock, seeing how messy he looks after a show. "Dude, you look insane." I burst out laughing, placing my hand over my mouth as I holler. "Shut up!" He groans, laughing with me "I'm too tired for this".

I control my laughter and wait a moment before nudging one of the chairs at the vanity with my leg, sliding it closer to Bill. I hop onto it, now directly facing him. "Come here." I say. He turns away from the mirror as I grab a dry cotton pad from a pack on his desk and drip some makeup remover onto it, watching it absorb the chemicals. He inches towards me, pushing his hair away from his face to help me, and closing his eyes slowly as the cotton pad touches his cheek, working away at his pale foundation. We sit in silence for a few seconds, enjoying each others company while I scrub at the cosmetics, washing away the excitement and fatigue of the long night that has soaked into it. "Did you really want to go to that party? We could still go if you're desperate." Bill says quietly, breaking the silence.

"Nah..." I whisper "I'd rather be here with you." when my hand grazes over his face, I feel a thin smile spread across his cheeks when he hears my words. He peers at me with his eyes half shut and backs away a little. "Look at you being all sappy..." he smiles.

"Shut up and give me your face." I say, taking a hold of his jaw and pulling his face closer to my reach. He lets out a short exhale, charmed by my boldness. I run the cotton pad across his face, quickly rubbing it over his lips playfully. He smiles again now with his teeth. "That was so on purpose..." He says with his eyes still sealed shut. "What?...no.." I say sarcastically.

After dirtying the cotton pad with his foundation, I grab a second one and move up to his shadowed eyes. "Keep your eyes closed...I need to sort all this out." I scoff, laughing as I poke fun at the mess painted on his eyes that has now somehow travelled up to his eyebrows. I take the pad and a wet wipe for good measure, massaging his eyelids. He swallows quietly "I've really missed you" he says out of nowhere. A little stunned, I continue cleaning him. "Me too." My tone suddenly shifts and you can hear a faint sadness in my voice. "I'm sorry I've been going away all the time, I would take you with us if I could..."

"Don't worry about it...I'm always back here if you need me anyway."

"Well I...don't want you only when I need you, I want you everywhere with me." I'm shocked by his sudden sentimentality, not really knowing how to respond since our usual way of showing love is by bullying each other until one caves in. "I know I know, that's not what I meant." I reassured him.

"I know, it's cool." he whispers "You know...sometimes I wish we wouldn't have to travel for so long, I've missed this." he pauses "Y/n...what if I stay?" He falls quiet, waiting for me to say something to fill in the silence. I look to him, a subtle face of worry crossing my face as I pull myself together. "Dude, stop." I say "Don't be stupid, this is...a crazy opportunity. Getting to travel around Europe and sing, that's nuts....don't let me hold you back...please."

"You're not "holding me back" y/n-"

I cut his sentence short "But what if I am? And you're just not realising it?...I don't want to be that." I blurt out.

"What?..." He opens his eyes, takes me by my wrists and holds me, preventing me from moving. His eyes glare at me. "No...don't do that. You're not in my way, do you understand?" His tone turns more agitated, worried that I'm giving myself a hard time because of his absence. A sudden silence falls between us like a transparent wall piling up and separating us, numbing me to his touch. This time, I'm not the wall. "Have you been worrying about this while I've been gone?" he looks to me hoping I'll say no, but already knowing the answer before the words leave his mouth. "Yeah...a little....a lot." I correct myself "You can't blame me though...I don't see you for weeks, sometimes even months. I know that's not your fault, but I'm allowed to be upset." I say, standing my ground.

"I know, it upsets me too." He lets go of my wrists and slides his hands down to mine, gently holding my hands with care. He smiles softly as he holds me, rubbing the top of my right hand with his thumbs, which makes both of us smile. We take time to comfort each other, acknowledging how hard the situation is for the both of us, yet we pull through. "Well you're here now." I sigh "You're stopping here for a while I heard, aren't you?"

"Yeah, we're taking a break here until we tour in the East." He says "And I'm glad I'm spending it with you." His eyes admire me as he speaks. I shift my hand a little, making him let go, and I return to his smeared eye makeup.

"So how's life without me at your hip?" He smiles as I exhale and roll my eyes, teasingly. "Better than ever." I say, with a sarcastic tone, making Bill gasp. "School's ok I guess, it's a teensy bit more bearable than last year at least." I take a short pause "...I won a writer's award two weeks ago..." I hold my breath as I wait for the buckets of Bill's compliments and praise to flood the room when he hears of my accomplishment. His eyes shoot open and his neck tilts forward in awe, his lips apart. "Are you kidding? That's amazing y/n! Why didn't you tell me??" He pushes me lightly on the shoulder.

"You expect way too much of me..." I shake my head and smile.

"I knew you would win! I told youuu..." he makes sure to rub the fact that he believed in me in my face before congratulating me "Well done, I'm really proud of you y/n..." He gazes into my eyes and gently places his hand on my knee. I observe his movements and quickly glance away, smiling. "Ok you can shut up now."

"Never. How can I when I'm being taken care of by a future author! Maybe I'll let you write my biography when you're as famous as me ;)" He teases, knowing I don't know how to handle compliments, yet he never fails to praise me anyway, just so I know. "Ok enough! Fine, I'm... proud of myself too I guess!"

"That's the spirit!" he taps my knee lightly, taking his hand away and resting it back onto the arm of his chair. I smile and shake my head, a little flustered from his admiration which, I hate to admit, I secretly love. "So how's tour so far? Are you eating well?" I ask with nurture in my voice as gratitude for his compliments. "Of course I am...you care way too much." He smiles.

"And you're right." I reply, playfully.

"I love that you care so much...even when you pretend you don't." His voice quietens.

"What does that mean?" I scrunch my eyebrows at his words.

"I don't know...you're just so...thoughtful. You always know what to do and say and-"

"Yeah right." I smile, a little overwhelemed by the flood of compliments. "Thanks though, I really do try my best."

"And that's enough for me." He whispers, his cheeks turning a faint pink. "You make me good...or feel like, at my core, I am good. I love it." without teasing or poking fun at him for once, I let him spill his emotions out onto the table where we both can see . I sit and listen, gently wiping his eyes with care. "It's so hard to leave you here, stuck in this village. It's so hard to not hear you laugh and sing and dance beside me... It's so hard not to love you for all thise things" I feel his tender fingertips brushing against my knee as he talks, slowing my pace. Before I can reply, his other hand shifts to my second knee and he holds it delicately. "Bill..." I whisper, with a little confusion but an unexpected sprinkle of excitement rushing through me. he bites his lip, pondering what to say next and trying hard not to stumble over his words. He opens his eyes and gazes directly into my mine, seeing all of me. He takes my hand. I feel butterflies nibbling on the walls of my stomach, their fluttering wings tickling me as they desperately want to flee and touch and love. In the moment, I don't know if it's wrong to feel so much love and desire for him, this ravenous craving that eats me from inside. I can only do what feels right, and so I let the butterflies feed.

He swallows gently "I want to care for you just like you do...I want to..." His hand raises to my face, holding me and caressing my cheek with his thumb in small circles. My hand laches onto his wrist gently, weak to his tender touch. The room falls silent, the only sound in the room coming from the lights above us, buzzing, humming on one note to our intimate moment. "Can I..." His voice fades out slightly and cracks from nervousness. "Can I kiss you?"

His words ring in my head, bouncing off of my ear drums and into my throat, leaving me speechless. I hold him for a while, our hands sharing each other's warmth through touch. I glance down at his lips that are slightly open, breathing in the little air between us; inhaling the glass wall that not moments ago parted us. With desire and lust, my eyes look back into his, and I nod gently. He takes a second to process this, before cupping my face in the palm of his hands and pulling me closer to him, until the wall turns to paper and our lips are inches away from each other. As I close my eyes, I feel his plush lips on mine, sharing our sweet taste. The butterflies in me settle when we collide, and the walls around us feel as though they are caving in, trapping us in each other's arms. As he holds me, I feel cared for. Safe. Warm.

He kisses me delicately and then again with more passion, before pulling away to let me breathe. As he leans back, his mouth curves into a sweet smile, his lips now stained with my light lipstick. I laugh as I notice his red tinted lips, stained with my evidence. I take his hand again, locking my pointer finger with his. "Looks like I'll have to clean you up again..."

"What a shame..." Bill whispers sarcastically, a wide smile pulling apart his rosy cheeks, now matching his lips.

________.✮.________

Tysm for readingg :)) <3 this was so much fun to write

I'm currently working on a 12 part Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader fic on wattpad and I've published the first part!

teethondafloor on wattpad

Zuźka

[transmascposi]

I feel really isolated because I hardly see any trans masculine positivity posts,,,, The only posts I see,, that are even shared by my own friends,,, are those that are complaining about trans mascs and how we're evil, ugly, and ruining the trans community,,,, I don't know what I did wrong besides simply exist as a trans masculine person,,, I still face misogyny and now I'm facing transphobia from my own friends,,, I even had to block somebody who said 'I have never found trans males to be sexually attractive' and instead of people telling them that's transphobic everyone was agreeing with them,,, I don't know where to turn anymore because everyone hates trans men so badly,,,, plus it's interesting that ppl will say how much they hate trans men but then fetishize our bodies,,,

I feel you. It's so lonely and difficult sometimes. It can feel like the whole world hates you. But I promise it's not like that. There's a lot of people who love us, really.

I'm sorry this is happening to you. You didn't do anything wrong. And even if you did, it wouldn't justify this treatment. You are valid and amazing and you bring so much beauty to the world and to the queer community. I had to cut off a few internet friends who hated on trans men and I don't regret it one bit. If they hate trans masculine people, I suggest cutting these people off. They are not good friends to you.

My advice is to try to spend less time online. The hate is much more concentrated here, and it's much more openly vicious. We certainly do have bad things happening to us in real life, but from my experience at least, the hate online is on another level. There are encounters that we can't really prevent in real life, but you can control the majority of your interactions online. I suggest avoiding the hate as much as you can, even if it means not spending time on your favorite platform. It can seem like I'm stating the obvious and I probably am, but at the same time, when I struggled a lot with online hate on trans mascs, I would keep spending time in trans masc spaces on tumblr that are full of this hate. I think we have the tendency to dwell in the hate, for whatever reason. To reblog it to argue with it, to keep repeating the same points to people who don't care about the truth, to try to counter the lie that trans mascs have it easy by witnessing the hate as a getcha. I'm not saying that you do this necessarily, but I definitely did it.

My second advice is to go out and meet people who understand and support you. A wonderful way to do that is activism. If you can, join your local trans activist group! You don't have to have inspiring speeches on big podiums and argue with people. You can help with small practical tasks — those people are very much needed and appreciated! Or you can find your local queer events and go there. It can be intimidating at first, especially if you go alone, but there's always someone a little bit lost at these events. People get it. Again, it definitely can be very difficult, but try to talk to some trans people there. Or anyone, really. You will find out that there's a lot of people who support and get us. And people who might not fully understand yet, but they want to try and they want to help. Even these imperfect encounters will warm your heart enough to forget a little about all the hate, even just for a moment. And being in activist circles and hearing people say your exact thoughts out loud — oh man it's SO satisfying. These people don't even have to be your friends. I'm trying to be an activist and there are people who I have fun with and who give me a sense of community — yet I don't meet them outside of activism stuff because I know we aren't a good match to be friends. And yet, their existence in my life brings me a lot of warmth. Building community is the key, really.

I wish you the best of luck and strength and I hope you will feel better soon.

[bangchanisinmymind]

dating habits

pairing; bangchan x reader; fluff-suggestive

Hugs : we all know his opinion on hugs and I genuinely believe he would hug you with the tiniest chance he have. Like when you stay with him at the studio he'll just make you sit on his lap and wrap his arms around you while you both listen to the new melody he made through the speakers (not really loud the whole situation is soft now <3). Or when you're both home and you're cooking or looking through the window he'll definitely hug you from behind putting his chin on your shoulder and you slid your arm down to his.

Kisses : I firmly believe he would kiss your moles. Since he found out you have those tiny dots all over your body he kissed whichever was closer to him. When he lays his head on your shoulder he kisses the one on your collarbones, when he kisses your lips he never misses the one on your chin, while he's going down on you he kisses the one between your breasts, on your ribs and tummy.

Taking care of you : he knows you skip dinner most of the time because of you being tired returning home so he always has a sandwich for you in the fridge and makes sure you ate it when he comes home. Also he wants to make sure you dress well so he gets you clothes from other countries when he's on tour he believes you'll like and sometimes when he returns home and you're asleep he picks out an outfit for you to wear in the morning <3

Sleeping : he always cuddle you to sleep ALWAYS. He absolutely adores when you use his body as a pillow, he likes it the most when you bury your face in his chest because he gets to smell and play with your hair (let's you hug his pillow when he's late :')n. Other than that he always makes sure you have set your alarm for the next day and brings a glass of water so if you need it throughout the night you won't have to go to the kitchen <3

Touching in general : when he drives he will put his hand on your thigh (FOR SURE). Always finds a way to touch you no matter who is watching, he doesn't mind being teased after you leave the room by his members or his family for telling you to sit on his lap when y'all are in the living room ( especially when there is not that much space or he thinks you might be uncomfortable).

Together stuff : he tries to match your showering schedule so you can "save water" together, it's not usually that hot, it's more like soft and sweet and taking care of each other :'). Lives for sleepover nights with the members because he can show all his love and affection for everyone (but mostly you ofc) and definitely feels like a proud dad having his loved ones all together spending time. Talking is everything for him, can talk with you all day about every single thing without getting bored but only loving you more every time

18+ : HEAR ME OUT. MAN LOVES YOU SITTING ON HIS FACE that's all I have to say. He loves to please you and see that fucked out look on your face after <3. One of his biggest kinks is being called daddy as known so he'll absolutely love it when you call him like that or refer to yourself as babygirl or something like "daddy's little girl" he might cum the moment he hears you. Loves seeing you in lingerie 🙈 he won't be very vocal about it but you can tell by the look of his eyes.

© @/bangchanisinmymind on tumblr | do not translate or copy my work without permission {feedback is highly appreciated! comment/DM for requests!}masterlist

[alwaysonf1]

lewis is doing what?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warning: Changes in the timeline for the sake of the story.

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: This is my first F1 fic, which makes me nervous so why not start with a series.

Many Drive to Survive haters like to pretend everything that comes from the show and what it’s about are beneath them. That they couldn’t possibly care, and that the only important thing is the race on Sunday. And yet the day after the latest season drops you can find them amongst the chaos trying to figure out what the hell were all those hints about a new form of content that F1 plans to release. 

Interwoven with the usual storylines and mild dramatics there was a lot of talk about how drivers show their families the support they’re given. How they show up for them in their careers and bits of their lives. It was weird at first, but then it sent off alarm bells when an almost fourth wall breaking moment happened where the Netflix team was blatantly dismissed. 

“I think we have this one Netflix, but thanks for the help.” Those were the exact words spoken by the head of marketing as she closed the door to a room where you get a glimpse of team paraphernalia but see no faces. 

Every social platform that you can find an F1 fan on has it trending and the conversations (and screams into the void) are fast paced. But Twitter is where the real unhinged and brain cell losing behavior is happening. 

And the most accurate guessing.

Almost everyone within the community is discussing what that snippet could mean. Is it the end of DTS as they know it? The end of it completely? Are F1 and Netflix severing ties? Will F1 be taking over? Is this some little game they're playing with their viewers to keep them tuned in? Is it something completely different? What the actual fuck is going on?

In the middle of those questions are those who think themselves a genius or are delusional enough that they can’t help but form some wild ideas of what’s to come.

Someone must be retiring. Multiple people are retiring. There’s going to be a reality show ala Keeping Up with the Verstappens, where everyone learns that Max’s little trauma dumpy memories with Jos are just the surface level of how insane that man is. Someone is getting married. Someone is getting married to another driver. A nepo baby is going to become the “voice of the fandom” and host a show about the drivers during race weekends and it’s going to be all the wrong things. A dating show for all the singles. A behind the scenes at the lives of drivers and their families, but like Family Feud. And the penultimate dude bro dream of them getting to spend the season hanging out with drivers and get confirmation that their toxic thoughts that alienate most of the fan base is true.

After about twenty-four hours it all dies down. Everyone is still wondering, but they don’t feel like they’re losing their minds while they try to be the one who can say they were right when they news drops.

As if timed, the second that F1 drops in trends the F1 admin drops a graphic with the faces of six people who are clearly positioned like the thinking face emoji on every platform that they use. In the captions it says: Week in the Life - Sibling Edition.

If Twitter was home to the first wave of screaming, it belongs to Tumblr the second go round. Everyone is so excited for the content that someone must have thrown up from how aggressively happy they feel. Everyone is talking about who they want it to be and what content they’d love to see from which sibling. Those who make gifs are especially excited to get everything they can, though they won’t be outdone by those whose brains and fingers will be entities on their own once they get hold of a singular moment that will inspire the fic of everyone’s dreams.

Those who always have something negative to say are there as usual, but they aren’t as loud or upset as they often are. Being nosy doesn’t stop just because you want to pretend that you only care about the race, as if someone doesn’t have a file of screenshots from all the times, they’ve attacked the character of a driver for something not race related at all.

The reaction to this is the kind that instills faith in what is being done. The kind of thing that tells all the upper management who didn’t like it that it was a good idea, but also puts a certain bit of weight on the content team. They need this to deliver. Need to keep the hype, especially since the first episode doesn’t drop until the start of December and they’ve already recorded half the series so a failure could stop the rest.

So once the Singapore GP ends, Daniel Ricciardo’s face is no longer gray. You get to see that goofy smile and wink. You’d think they told everyone he was getting a permanent seat with a three year contract with the reception to it.

It’s Charles Leclerc for Japan. 

Lance Stroll for Qatar.

Carlos Sainz for COTA.

Alex Albon for Mexico.

And coming off his first P1 of the season, Lewis Hamilton for Brazil.

For the next week or so if a tweet isn’t about excitement, disdain, or shock in regard to this new F1 exclusive content, it has a certain main character at its center.

[sebastianstanisahotmf]

Too many missions

Bucky Barnes x Fem!reader

A/N Firstly, this fic idea is from a request from @nicoline1998enilocin to reverse the roles of my fic office sex e.g. reader visits Bucky at work. Secondly, comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated and all mistakes are my own so feel free to comment below if you notice any. Also, this fic is gonna have a second part which is just aftercare.

18+ MINORS DNI, FUCK OFF YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH (I WARNED YOU)

Summary Bucky is supposed to be doing his mission reports but ends up doing you instead (lmao that's so fucking cheesy)

DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER APPS/SITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff , blowjob, unprotected sex (use protection you are not fictional)

Bucky was missing you to say the least. He had been jumping from mission to mission for the past month and hadn’t been able to properly spend time with you. However, he only had to wait one more hour and then he could give you all the attention you could ever need. 

He was filling in the last of the paperwork regarding his latest mission when he heard a knock on his office door. 

“Come in,” he shouted, not lifting his head and continuing to write more notes on the paper. Bucky still hadn’t grasped typing on a computer and still preferred to hand-write things.

You opened the door and slid in trying not to distract Bucky while he was working.

“Hey baby, I just wanted to ask you if you’re ok.” you sat down on the couch that Bucky had in his office.

Bucky turned his head quickly as soon as he heard your voice. His scowl turned into a smile at the sight of you. 

“Hey doll, I missed you.” he said while finishing a sentence before turning on his chair to face you.

You lifted the bag that was in your hand, “I brought some food for you since you’ve been working really hard lately.”

“You’re amazing, doll,” he said, taking the bag out of your hand. “I’m sorry for not being home much S.H.I.E.L.D really needed me recently.” He added with a sad look on his face. 

“It's ok baby, I know it’s not your fault. Anyways you tell me not to worry when the same thing happens to me so you shouldn’t be worrying either.” 

“I know doll, but I just feel bad for neglecting you for so long and I've missed you so much lately.” He took out the food you made him and dug in like a man starved. 

“It’s ok baby. Really. I know that you’re not intentionally going on missions. Also, I kindly spoke to Fury and he said he’s willing to give us both the next 2 months off.” 

“You know doll, I think you’re the only person I know that can intimidate THE Nick fury.” Bucky says smiling.

Bucky finished his food and you took the rubbish off him and threw it in the bin for him. Then, you got up from your seat and walked over to Bucky who was grinning like an idiot. 

“Come here doll, I need to hug you,” he said while holding his arms out to you.

You sat on his lap, facing him. Bucky wrapped one arm around your waist and placed the other at the back of your head, pressing you further into the crook of his neck. You took a deep breath and could smell the familiar scent of Bucky’s cologne. You wrapped your arms tightly around his waist and he hummed in content. 

After a few minutes, you started to get restless. You were getting aroused from being so close to Bucky especially since you hadn’t had sex with him in what felt like years. And masterbating wasn’t an option since Bucky’s skills had made you unable to cum unless it was him. 

You squirmed around a bit before stopping when you felt Bucky’s hardness beneath you. You looked up to see Bucky’s eyes almost black with lust. He let out a loud groan when you made eye contact with him.

“Doll, I-I-I need to finish the mission report and t-then we can do anything you want.”

“But daddy. I want you nowww,” you whined. 

“Stop whining like a whore,” Bucky said “I’ll fuck you after I finish the mission reports.” He pushed you off his lap and started to unbuckle his belt and open his jeans. “While i'm doing that, you can put that dirty fuckin’ mouth to use.” he pulled his cock out and started to lazily rub it up and down.

You dropped to your knees and crawled under the desk. Bucky rolled his chair under the desk, right in front of you. 

“All right doll, you know what to do.”

You shuffled closer and replaced Bucky’s hand with yours. You leaned closer and licked a stripe up the underside of his dick, repeating the action again before taking the rounded head into your mouth. This made Bucky let out a loud moan which made you suck harder. Then, you took his member deeper into your mouth until it hit the back of your throat which made you gag. 

“That’s it baby. Such a good girl,” Bucky groaned, stroking your head softly. 

Then, you hear a knock at the door. Bucky looks down at you with a grin on his face and then tells whoever it is to come in. He allows you to take one last deep breath before pushing you down.

 

Steve walked into the room and was oblivious to you with a mouthful of his best friend's cock. 

“Hey Buck, how much longer are you going to be because you need to hand in your mission reports today and it's already 10pm.” 

“I’ve got a f-few more notes to add and then I’m done, punk.” Bucky replied, clenching his fist. 

“Jerk,” Steve responded, as he exited the room. 

Bucky let out a groan as you took him all the way down now that you didn’t have an audience. 

“Doll, I need to be inside you right now,” Bucky said.

He grabbed your hair and pulled you off him before moving back on his chair so that he could pick you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist. He placed you on his desk and started to take his clothes off as you did the same.

 

When you were both naked, Bucky leaned forward to meet your lips in a kiss. It was all teeth and tongue since you haven't been able to be intimate with each other for way too long. You brought a hand up to Bucky’s face and cupped his cheek, a strangely sweet gesture for such a filthy kiss. 

“Daddy, please. I need you inside me. Please,” you begged.

“One second doll,”

Bucky grabbed your hips and pulled you to the edge of the desk. He grabbed his cock and rubbed it up and down your folds. 

“Please daddy! Fuck me!” you whined. 

Bucky just smirked before leaning forwards and pushing his dick inside you with one smooth thrust. He didn’t give you a chance to adjust before violently thrusting into you. All sense of self control had instantly dissipated the second he entered you. 

“Doll, you feel so good. So fuckin’ good” Bucky groaned. 

He put both your legs on his shoulders and leaned forwards. From this position he could reach the deepest parts of you. He reached his hand down and started to rub your swollen clit. 

“Gonna cum, m’ gonna cum,” you shouted, your legs starting to shake. 

“Cum for me doll, come on. Show daddy how good his fat cock is making you feel.” Bucky said.

Your legs had started to shake and Bucky’s thrusts were starting to become sloppy. Your vision had started to blur and you could feel your orgasm crash into you. You let out a pornographic moan and was trying to writhe away from Bucky’s hand which continued to rub your clit and extend your high. 

“Gonna cum in you baby, gonna pump you full of my cum,” Bucky let out a loud moan before stilling and filling you with his seed. 

Bucky leaned back to let your legs fall from his shoulders. He leaned forwards and rested his forehead against your breasts as you ran your fingers through his hair. A few minutes passed and then Bucky pulled away. You whined at the loss of contact. Bucky grabbed the hoodie he was wearing and helped you put it on…..

Taglist: @buckys-wintersoldier @nicoline1998enilocin

Also if you want to see posts I reblog just follow @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

[cupidjyu]

kiss me, sweetheart

hyunjae x reader (request, anon you are so sexy for requesting this i love you)

genre: JEALOUS HYUNJAE. best friends to lovers, college au but barely mentioned, kissing, feelings realization, pining, like minimal angst, i think u guys makeout tbh, getting together, flirting, he calls you "sweetheart” notes: welcome to the new era of yumi finally using caps on tumblr! let me know how you like it :) i'm sorry to the people who prefer the lowercase, but this is my blog hehe word count: 3.9k (i definitely went overboard with this fic oops)

“If you don’t hurry up, I will die of starvation,” You heard a voice call out from behind. 

You turned around and your first thought was to smack Hyunjae straight in the chest with the bag that you were currently shopping at the bookstore with. And so, you did. Unfortunately, though, you forgot that it was made of an incredibly hard, plastic-y material so it made a loud “bong” against his body.

“That’s going to leave a bruise.”

“Oops,” You winced. But after, you simply shrugged. “That’s what you get for rushing me though.”

“It’s been like thirty minutes,” He whined. “You promised that we would try the waffle place on the next block. And you know how huge this campus is.”

You pouted as you stared at the many unexplored aisles of the store before groaning, “Fine. You’re lucky that we’re best friends or else I would be punching you so hard right now.”

“You can definitely try, sweetheart,” He smirked. You scowled, knowing just how much he loved to call you by that name. In a platonic way, of course. 

Everything about the two of you was platonic. You two were like peas in a pod who met way back in middle school and have done everything together all the way up until university. You’ve watched each other’s achievements and been through hardships together. Going through breakups, getting rejected, failing driver tests, throwing up from being drunk, you’ve done it all… together.

Now, you were walking with Hyunjae down the sidewalk when suddenly you heard a yelp from him. You turned and you were met with the sight of someone tackling your best friend from the back. 

“Are you just going to ignore me or what?” The other man hollered in his ear. “Don’t tell me you’re too embarrassed to see your dear football teammate in public. You’re the captain of the team too!”

Hyunjae pried him off, completely out of breath. “Sunwoo.”

“Yes, cap’n?”

“Don’t bother me again, especially when I’m with someone right now,” He gestured to you. 

Sunwoo turned to you with realization, “Oh. So you’re Y/n? Captain’s best friend?”

You nodded, smiling politely. “I think I’ve heard much about you, Sunwoo.”

“Good things, I hope?”

You cringed, “No, not really.” Sunwoo shot a glare at Hyunjae at that. After, he bluntly pushed himself into the space between you and your best friend. He swung an arm around Hyunjae’s waist and the other arm around your shoulders, suddenly bringing you all closer to the center.

He let out a sigh. “Nothing better than spending time with loved ones, am I right?” He joked with a glint in his eye.

Hyunjae sighed, his eye twitching with annoyance, “You weren’t even invited.”

Sunwoo scowled, “Shush. Y/n won’t mind, right?”

Hyunjae knew that you were too nice to say no so he practically gave up. You offer a simple, “Mhm!” as you gave him an awkward smile. You made eye contact with Hyunjae, who had rolled his eyes at Sunwoo with an obvious pout. You giggled.

Sunwoo shifted closer, “Did you buy anything? Or, better question, did Hyunjae pay?”

“No, since someone wanted to rush me,” You huffed. “And do you really think he’s the type to pay? He loves saving his money for himself.” You laughed to yourself, knowing this would definitely get him worked up.

As expected, Hyunjae gasped in betrayal. He was about to protest but that was when his eyes zeroed in on how Sunwoo’s arm was wound tightly around your body, his hand resting warmly on your shoulder. He paused, a tight feeling growing in a deep pit of his stomach. 

He was unsure of what it is.

For some reason, he didn’t have the urge to talk anymore. He just quietly watched as Sunwoo leaned closer and closer, smiling his very charming smile. He even let go of Hyunjae, instead only turning his attention to you, making you laugh and smile.

Hyunjae felt his eyebrows furrow when Sunwoo approached even closer to your face, just mere inches from your lips. He knew that Sunwoo loved to flirt. It was part of his personality. But something about when he does it with you… is different. At that moment, something just took over him, as he used all of his football-playing strength to suddenly grab Sunwoo by the back of his collar and drag him back to his side, slightly choking him in the process.

“Ow– what was that for?” Sunwoo pouted, rubbing his neck.

“You’re being obnoxious.”

“How so?” 

Now, Hyunjae was at a loss for words. Why was he so annoyed? Why did he feel like he could just punch something at that moment?

“I– I don’t know. But just lay off…”

Sunwoo stared at him funnily before shrugging. The tension was interrupted when they heard your gasp from far away.

“This is so cute!” You excitedly pointed at a plushie displayed in a nearby store. You quickly abandoned the two men and went to find it. 

The two of them were now left together, just standing there awkwardly with no idea what to do. It was incredibly quiet, not a word spoken. Usually, they talk a lot, since they’re on the same team and have mutual friends. But now, Hyunjae feels sour, a grudge forming against his fellow teammate. Finally, Sunwoo broke the ice.

“Hey, cap.” He nudged his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Y/n’s cute,” Sunwoo smiled. “Are they dating anyone right now?”

Hyunjae froze. “No, I don’t think so, or else they would have told me.”

“Hm,” Sunwoo seemed deep in thought. “Okay! I’ll see you guys later then. Or preferably, I’ll see Y/n later.” He had the audacity to wink after.

Hyunjae stared after him, unsure of what to feel. But, he quickly shook off the burning feeling. It’s probably a stomachache. 

-

That night, Hyunjae went to sleep fairly early since he had a morning class the next day. He did his usual routine of scrolling through social media and setting up his bed. From the long hours of walking with you by his side, he already began to feel drowsy. And so, as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep.

Hyunjae isn’t the type of person to dream a lot. Or, at least, he doesn’t remember them. But on that particular night, he dreamed.

He dreamed of you.

His brain was quite accurate when it came to creating an image of you. Your eyes, your hair, it got it all down perfectly. He was sure it was you. He could recognize the slope of your nose, your cheeks, and your pretty lips. Wait– pretty? Since when did he think that?

Though what really bothered him, was that the dream with you wasn’t a typical best friend dream. It wasn’t a day at the amusement park or the movie nights that he usually had with you. His dream was more of a love story.

And it wasn’t a love story with you and him as the main characters. It was you and Sunwoo.

He seemed to play no part in this love story, just completely invisible as if he was the reader of a book. He also was conveniently placed outside the balcony of your apartment. He winced, kind of creepy, he knows. But besides the point, he’s invisible! He was frozen on the spot as he watched you sit down with Sunwoo on the couch. His fellow teammate was smiling at you, and again, he wound his arm around you. But this time, he started cuddling you. You nuzzled your cheek into his chest as he leaned his chin on the top of your head with a satisfied smile. 

“I missed you,” He heard you say to him, making him want to revolt for some odd reason.

“Missed you too, baby.”

Hyunjae wanted to cover his eyes and fall to the floor at that moment.

But what really shocked Hyunjae, was that he later leaned in and kissed you. Not on the cheek, but right on the lips. Hyunjae couldn’t move, since he had no control over his body. He could just watch, as your lips moved in unison, deepening it until it turned into a bit of a makeout, Sunwoo’s hands all over your body. 

Hyunjae woke up moments later, in a sweat. He looked down at his shaky hands. 

He had just dreamed of you kissing his friend and he hated it.

He loathed it so much and he has no idea why.

-

“Are you okay?” Juyeon, his other dear teammate, appeared by his side the next morning handing him a bottle of water. Hyunjae took it without a smile.

“I’m great, why?”

“You seem out of it,” The younger shrugged.

Hyunjae sighed, looking down at the ground. He just couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. The way you kissed Sunwoo with so much passion in his dream, the way your hands roamed over his chest, and the way your eyes were dazed. He hated how it made him feel. He couldn’t even figure out what he was feeling.

Juyeon was about to walk away when Hyunjae decided to ask for advice.

“Wait, Juyeon,” He called out.

“Hm?”

“I need to ask you something… for a friend,” He looked away sheepishly.

“What is it?”

“I’ll give you a scenario,” He started. “If a person dreams of his best friend kissing someone else and it makes him feel horrible inside, what does it mean?”

Juyeon shrugged, “Depends. Maybe you don’t like the person that they’re kissing?”

“No, no, Sunwoo is a perfectly decent person,” Hyunjae shook his head. Then he froze, his eyes widening. “I– I shouldn’t have said his name. And how did you know I was talking about myself?”

Juyeon smirked, “I know you well enough. Then, it must mean that you don’t approve of your best friend kissing him because they should be kissing someone else.”

Hyunjae furrowed his eyebrows, completely lost, “What, so you’re saying that I think that my best friend can’t kiss anyone at all?”

“No?” Juyeon shook his head. “I mean that you’d much rather your best friend kiss someone that you want them to.” Juyeon looked at him with a mischievous smile, as if trying to get a certain point across, but Hyunjae doesn’t quite get it yet.

“Who–” He was deep in thought. “Who would I want them to kiss? My teammates? My other friends?”

“None of those.”

Hyunjae groaned in frustration, “Then who else? It’s not like I, myself would want t–” He froze, his body going rigid. Suddenly, his mind rushed back to the dream. He thought of your lips moving against Sunwoo’s and he wondered how they would feel against his own. He wondered if he could hold your waist like Sunwoo had and cup your face, making you blush. He wondered if he could–

“Oh.”

Juyeon was staring at him with amusement, “Got it?”

“I want to kiss my best friend,” He breathed out, in utter disbelief. “I– I have feelings for my best friend? And that time– with Sunwoo. That feeling was jealousy?”

“So you come to your senses,” The younger laughed.

“Juyeon, I’m doomed.”

“You’ll be fine.”

-

Hyunjae later learned just how hard it is to be in love with his best friend. The two of you always spend time together, but lately, it’s been hard to be around you. Every time you would smile, he couldn’t help but admire the way your eyes would close along with it. When you would pout, he would think of kissing you again. When you would laugh, his heart would beat faster. Or, when you would initiate skinship with him, he would feel like he might explode.

“Hey,” You waved in front of his face, startling him out of his thoughts. “Are you there?”

“Hm?” He faked a smile. “Yeah, sorry.”

“Okay…” You eyed him suspiciously. “Anyways, as I was saying, what do you think if I got a boyfriend?”

He blinked, “What?”

You shrugged, smiling shyly to yourself, “Some guy gave me his number the other day, and I–”

“No.”

You frowned, “Why not?”

And Hyunjae so badly just wanted to come clean. He wanted to tell you that he’s in love with you and wants you only to himself. But he couldn’t work up the courage to do so.

“I just think…” He laughed awkwardly. “He isn’t your type.”

You looked at him with curiosity, “You saw him?”

“Yeah,” He lied through his teeth.

“Oh…” You mumbled. “Okay, I guess. Oh, and Hyunjae?”

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow.

“You look handsome today,” You complimented. It was true, he had finally ditched the hoodies he usually wore because of the warmer weather, instead wearing a shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders.

“D-don’t joke around…” He gently shoved you, feeling his ears burn and his heart race. Compliments from you aren’t supposed to affect him so much, but after his revelation… everything’s different with you.

“I’m not!” You giggled. “And did you just stutter?”

“No,” He stubbornly avoided eye contact, in hopes that you wouldn’t see that he was also blushing.

“You did,” You watched in awe. “Who knew that the Hyunjae would be so shy? I like this side of you.”

“I’m not shy,” He mumbled, his cheeks turning redder by the minute.

“Sure,” You rolled your eyes. You leaned closer, batting your eyelashes. “And if I said that you’re cute?”

“I’m not cute!” He whined.

“What about tall?”

“That’s just the truth.”

“Kind?”

“Of course, I would be kind, who do you take me for?” He glared.

You thought for a moment before smiling mischievously. “What about… if I said that you’re pretty?”

He froze, suddenly going quiet. You could see that he was blushing again. 

“Ah,” You smiled. “So you like being called pretty? Pretty, pretty, Hyunjae.”

And suddenly, he reached an arm out and pulled you in by the waist. You yelped, your face almost buried in his chest. You put your hand against it, but you gulped when you realized just how fast his heart was beating and also… how muscular he is.

“H-Hyunjae? What are you doing?” You looked up at him.

And oh, how he hated the way you looked up at him like a puppy. He so badly wanted to kiss the living daylight out of you, but he resisted.

“You can’t keep teasing me, sweetheart,” He tilted his head, his expression serious. “I might just do something stupid.”

You gulped, “...like what?”

He looked at your lips and licked his own. He was about to lean in but that was when he remembered that you might reject him. You were merely his best friend, nothing more. He sighed and pulled away.

“Nothing.”

-

What’s even worse, is avoiding his best friend. He had realized that the more time he spent with you, the more painful it was for him to pretend to just be friends with you. He longed to do more with you. He wanted to hug you, cuddle you, and most importantly, call you his.

“Want to study together?” You would ask.

“Sorry, I have an exam due.”

“Why are we walking so far apart? Get closer!”

“I’m fine like this.”

“Want to go to that concert?”

“I have football practice.”

At first, you simply played it off as one of his pranks. But soon enough, you realized that he was serious. He wouldn’t look you in the eye and his responses to your jokes and stories were dry. Every time you would try to make plans he would reject them, coming up with an excuse.

You were confused, having no idea what to do. You wondered if you did anything wrong. Nonetheless, you felt like there was a hole burned in your heart, knowing that your best friend was avoiding you.

-

Hyunjae sighed as he walked through the park. He often loved walking the trail with you. He liked to listen to your stories and little rants. And yes, he did miss you. It was hard to just reject your offers and it was especially hard not to see your face every day like he used to. He thought that you were beautiful, and not being able to see you all the time made him want to cry.

As he turned the corner, he paused when he heard your voice from a distance. He looked and saw that you were sitting on a bench, your phone against your ear as you talked to someone.

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong,” You spoke, your voice quiet and sad. “I miss being with him.”

He felt his heart sink as he watched you look down at your feet, sniffling.

“Should I talk to him?”

His breath hitched.

-

The day he dreaded came quicker than he had expected. You had texted him, inviting him to your apartment. 

Let’s talk.

Hyunjae took a deep breath and knocked on your door. Almost immediately, it opened to reveal you, a pitiful frown on your face and your eyes dull. You led him to sit on the couch as you faced him, trying to gather your thoughts first. Finally, you spoke.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not,” His voice shook.

“You are, don’t lie,” You furrowed your eyebrows. He was quiet for a second, but with the way you were glaring at him, he couldn’t help but give in.

“Fine, maybe I am,” He looked at you with guilt. “But please, you have to understand that I can’t spend time with you anymore.”

“Why?” You cried. “What did I do wrong? Is it me? You can tell me if I did something to upset you, please, I promise that I will make it right.”

“It’s not you, please don’t blame yourself,” He clenched his jaw, his feelings threatening to pour out. He hated seeing you hurt.

“Then tell me what happened.” 

You spoke with so much kindness and care, making him feel even more regretful. You should be mad at him, but instead, you were taking care of him. Then, you took his hand in yours. His eyes widened as he looked at you with bewilderment.

“What are you–”

And then you pressed a kiss to the back of his hand. Hyunjae felt his heart stutter as you looked up at him. You intertwined your fingers together as your other hand came up to cup his jaw to make him face you and look you in the eye. He gulped, his eyes going soft.

“Hyunjae… I know there’s something wrong. Please, let me help,” You whispered, caressing his cheek with your thumb, watching as his skin started to tinge with red. He stared at you, feeling like he might choke on his words. You just smiled, softly, trying to convey to him that it was okay. It’s okay now that you’re here. 

His heart felt like it was pouring with emotions. 

“Please, stop this, sweetheart,” He pleaded, his eyes never leaving yours. His hands were clenched in fists at his side, his heart beating way too fast. He couldn’t handle how you were touching him and treating him with so much love.

“Why should I?” You dared to look him in the eye. 

His vision kept on wandering to your lips.

“Because I might do something stupid.” He whispered, his voice wavering.

You stared at him, tightening your hold on his hand. You took a deep breath, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He wouldn’t stop looking at you with an unreadable expression, something completely different than before.

And almost like you were out of breath, you spoke again, your voice barely able to be heard.

“Like what?”

You gasped when you suddenly felt a pair of lips on yours. You were frozen, trying to process the situation. Hyunjae quickly noticed and he pulled away, his eyes immediately filling with regret.

“I– I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“No.”

You took his arm and pulled him back against you. He stared at you, his eyes wide.

“Oh, this is…” He whispered in utter shock.

“Kiss me.”

His eyes immediately closed when you pressed your lips against his. And soon, the two of you began to relax in each other’s hold, your arms going around his neck as his hands came to hold your waist gently. He pulled you even closer, making you gasp. His tongue swiped against your lip as he deepened the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle. You felt dizzy as you tried to keep up with him. His hands roamed all over your sides, making you shiver as your hands rested against his chest.

At some point, you began to run out of air with how aggressively he was kissing. You tapped his arm, causing him to pull away, his lips swollen and red as he gasped for breath. 

He searched your eyes to make sure you were okay before he smiled.

“So, sweetheart…” He started, smirking with affection in his eyes.

“Please, don’t,” You covered your face with your hands, slowly turning red.

“Tell me what that was about?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Shut up,” You whined. “You’re the one who kissed first!”

“You’re right about that,” He admitted. And then he looked at you with sincerity. “I’m sorry for avoiding you. I just… I think that I’m in love with you.”

Your breath hitched.

“That is quite the switch-up,” You giggled. “Last week you were insulting me.”

He looked away, blushing furiously.

“I’m still sorry.”

You shook your head, “It’s okay. I may be in love with you too…” You trailed off.

He looked up and his lips curled up happily, “Really?”

You nodded, “I never realized, but now I know. You’re a– a great kisser.” You suddenly felt embarrassed so you stood up and turned away from him to hide your face.

“Don’t be like that now, sweetheart,” He got up and wound his arms around your waist from behind. His nose met with your neck, making you shiver. “Let me see you.”

Hesitantly, you turned to face him. But, he was looking at you so, so fondly that you couldn’t help but shy away again, looking off to the side.

“Sweetheart,” He cupped your cheek with one hand, the other hand still resting on your waist. “I said look at me.”

This time, when you did, he leaned in, kissing you again. He pressed peck after peck, all over your face, making you whine. And then he went back to your lips, kissing more passionately as if he was addicted to you. Which, he is.

“Only kiss me from now on,” He whispered in between kisses. His mind flashed back to his dream from way earlier. He furrowed his eyebrows, groaning as he hated that dream so much. “Noone else. You can only kiss me, okay? Especially not Sunwoo.”

You stared at him wordlessly with amusement.

He looked at you with confusion, “What?”

“Nothing, you’re just cute when you’re jealous.”

He huffed, “Because I like–no, I love you sweetheart.”

You grinned, your cheeks flushing, “I love that name so much.”

“Sweetheart,” He sang in your ear, making you laugh loudly. “Now please,” He looked at you pleadingly, as he led you to the couch and pinned you against it. His hair fell over his face and his eyes darkened. “Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Needy.”

[oflights]

hi! reading about your preferences when reading fic and also that i loved all of your fics, i think we have really similar tastes! can you rec some of the last ones you read that made you smile? (or clutch your chest in angst lol) hope you are having a great day!

hi anon!! sure!

disclaimer here: i am bad about reccing (and god, commenting); i regularly go spelunking for old fic i missed based on a random list somewhere or a fest that happened or some very specific theme i want to read (someday i dream of doing a "random fics i found on LJ and was shocked to love" list, when i have time and space to organize thoughts).

also, my bookmarks are unhinged, i have no idea how many of these authors are on tumblr/who they are on tumblr (for the most part) and this is an extremely random assortment lol. all that being said: enjoy!

in absolutely no order:

Glamours That Don't Fade by WouldItWere (laugh out loud funny, chaotic, perfect mistaken identity-ish. my favorite part is how draco spends the entire fic just giving harry absolute hell literally before, during and after they have sex. it's magnificent)

When Buds Break by andithiel (angsty hanahaki; this is here because fwb pining is one of my favorite forms of angst)

Death, Dessert, and Dentistry (But Not Necessarily In That Order) by glamourtentia (draco is a dentist, harry is a vampire, and this is so fun and sweet and sharp)

what the body wants is coolness by lastontheboat (such a good new established relationship fic, so awkward and tense and real; draco's sense of humor is pitch perfect to me

Smoke and Sweets by BiscuitBrunch (my favorite 8th year fic of all time, and i'm not a huge 8th year person in general. i'm pretty sure i'm just in love with everything this author writes, though; they've actually got me reading an auror harry wip)

The Tapestry of Kinship by khalulu (kidfic with my favorite dynamic, which is that harry starts seeing dad!draco and makes a family with him. also a huge fan of khalulu and would rec all of their fics)

The Interest Here by disapparater (hilarious, god, harry is so fucking good in this and their dynamic is wonderful. for the third time in a row: huge fan of disapparater)

this is very scattered and random, i'm sorry!! but i hope you like some of these 😊

[aanhedoniaaa]

Hi , I wanted to ask if you could do TBP boys relationship / bonds with each one hcs ( U know , Finney with Griffin , Billy with Vance , it might be long or too much but hope you write it whenever you can )

Glad to see you're having fun outside Tumblr <)

thank you!! anons are so nice (sometimes)

TBP BOYS INDIVIDUAL FRIENDSHIP HCS

1. Finney and Robin

as we all know, they are friends in the movie

so of course i think they’d spend a decent amount of time together.

besides the kidnapping stuff, if the black phone was just your typical 70s slice of life movie, i think i’d love it.

they most likely do the niche things you’d expect middle school boys to do when they hang out. (not nowadays but whatever)

since finney isn’t allowed to watch rated r / horror movies, i think robin would take finn to see one atleast ONCE in their friendship.

they also most likely just have deep and long conversations about their home lives whenever they hang

finney insists on sleepovers, robin is always down as long as it’s at finn’s house (they always end up going to robins house)

robin definitely has and will beat up bullies for finn.

they also have phones in this era, so they have alot of phone conversations, they probably spend hours just sitting and talking to eachother whenever they don’t have to worry about school.

they’re just so iconic together. they don’t fight, if they have disagreements they’re stupid ones, and they’re just bffs for life

2. Bruce and Vance

polar opposites.

in this case, it’s a good thing.

bruce is sweet, he’s nice towards EVERYBODY. even the meanies like vance.

vance fights, he’s loud when he wants to be, he’s a rebellious teenager. (bruce probably got straight A’s)

and vance knows that bruce is just an outgoing and kind dude, which is what he HATES about him.

“why the hell are you so nice to everyone, shitheads don’t fucking deserve it” - (idk take this as you want, i just know vance has said this to bruce before)

vance was shocked when bruce randomly asked him if he wanted to hang out sometime (he thought he was gay) [ reminder it’s the 70s ]

but they have a semi-decent relationship (friends, platonic, blah blah blah)

he grows to be comfortable with bruce and how he is.

so eventually bruce gets to see the softer side of vance.

not always cursing, voice not constantly at volume 350, just Vance Hopper being himself.

i’d like to think Vance is very introverted, he’s rude to people who try to engage with him because he has trust issues and doesn’t want to get hurt (in the sense that i think he’s just like me)

3. Billy and Griffin

they’re so cute

they definitely go to the same school, live in the same neighborhood and spend the majority of their time together

AGHHH IM FANGIRLING

their moms are probably friends i can feel it

they’re probably childhood friends that are gonna grow up to be like brothers to eachother

griffin probably gets into accidents a lot AND I JUST KNOW BILLY KEEPS A FIRST AID ON HIM

they probably take bike rides together in the mornings and afternoons, just talking or laughing together

i’d just imagine they’re completely wholesome

[outerspacebisexual]

I'll Give In To You - Steve Harrington

Summary: You and Steve have been best friends for six years. It takes one drunken night to reveal your feelings and ruin everything. Or does it?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of vomit, friends to lovers (yes!yes!yes!)

a/n: if you see a mistake in this, no you didn't. friends to lovers my beloved

also, with the new tumblr guidelines, please please please interact with fics. it's harder than ever to get our works out to people, and we appreciate it so much <3

Masterlist

As two of Hawkins High’s most avid partygoers, you and Steve were expected at every party that was thrown. And cheer captain Rachel Bilson’s party was no different.

“Did you see this?” you asked Steve as you took your seat next to him at lunch.

He took the flyer from your hands, eyes trailing over the date and time for the ‘April Fools’ party. “I heard about it from Carol,” he replied, scrunching it up before you could take it back from him. “People will use anything for an excuse to throw a party.”

You scoffed. “As if you care, Mister Keg King.”

He shot you a sly grin, paired with a wink. You rolled your eyes, even as the heat pooled in your stomach. “Anyway,” he said, “we need to be thinking about my party. It’s less than a month away and we haven’t organised anything.”

You raised a brow. “Why am I suddenly helping you plan your own party?”

“Because you’re my best friend and you know I can’t plan to save my life.” His puppy dog eyes were big and bright, and you fought against the smile already forming.

“What will you give me in return?”

He tapped his fingers on the table, as if deep in thought. “How about a ride to school every day this month?”

“You already pick me up most mornings.”

“Sure, but how about every day?”

You shot him a look, but agreed. In truth, he didn’t have to give you anything, which he knew. You would do anything for him, including plan his birthday party, for free. It was one of the downsides to being in love with your best friend.

You and Steve had been friends for six years, best friends for five of them. And just like every cliché, you had fallen in love with him. And God, it was the worst thing you had ever done. Because it meant that you were subjected to watching him go out with other people while you watched on from the sidelines like a loser.

It was pathetic, really, but you had managed to hide your feelings from him for years successfully. Senior year would be no different.

“Do you have basketball practice this afternoon?” you asked him around a mouthful of food.

“Yeah, last period. I can still drive you home.”

You nodded in thanks. “What’s happening about—” You cut yourself off when you noticed that Steve’s eyes were on the doors of the cafeteria. On Nancy Wheeler. The heat in your stomach turned to ice. “Steve,” you said, bringing his attention back to you. “What’s up with you and Nancy?”

His eyes shot back to you. “What?”

You gestured with your head to the girl. “What’s up with you and her?”

Steve and Nancy had been spending more time together recently, which was no secret to you and the rest of Hawkins High. It was a weird pairing if you were honest, not that you would ever tell Steve that.

“Nothing,” he rushed. “We’re just lab partners. She’s having a hard time with her parents or something lately.”

The way he scrambled for an excuse wasn’t all that convincing, but you let it go. “Right.” Your appetite was suddenly gone, and you pushed your tray away.

Steve noticed, but didn’t say anything, pushing it back towards you without a word. “Now, about my party.”

You rolled your eyes again. If there was one thing Steve was good at, it was changing the subject.

+

Like Steve said, the sound of sweaty teenage boys running around was loud enough that you could hear it from outside the gymnasium.

You slung your backpack over your shoulder as you made your way towards it. You had elected to skip out on last period. Mrs. Click wouldn’t even notice. Plus, reading in the bleachers was always preferable to learning history for an exam that wouldn’t mean anything after graduation.

Opening the doors to the gym, you found the team in the middle of a practice game.

You waved at the coach, who at this point, was used to you sitting in on his lessons. He was fine with it, so long as you didn’t say anything or disturb his class. He was on some power trip about ensuring that the team made the finals this year. Something that Steve was sure wasn’t going to happen.

Steve caught sight of you as you made yourself comfortable towards the back of the bleachers, already pulling out a book from your backpack. He gave a nod in greeting, and you smiled back at him.

He was sweaty beyond belief, the spring air already humid enough to cause a breakout of sweat if you even thought about doing anything strenuous.

You sat in silence for the majority of the lesson, only looking up when you heard the doors open again. When you did, you thought you must have been hallucinating, because Nancy Wheeler was standing at the entrance.

You watched as Steve excused himself from practice to go over to her. Their words were hushed, not audible over the team’s shouting, no matter how hard you tried to listen.

She looked upset, that much you could tell, and Steve comforted her as she sniffled.

The bell rang out through the gym, and you shoved your book into your bag, taking the steps two at a time. You were nothing if not nosy, so you were disappointed when you got to Steve right as Nancy exited the doors and headed out into the parking lot.

You clapped your hand on Steve’s shoulder, before immediately pulling it back when it came away sweaty. You made a face and wiped it on your pants. “Gross. What was that about?”

He chuckled as he watched you. “Nothing. She’s just having a hard time with her parents and her brother.”

“So you said,” you replied dryly.

“I’m actually going to drive her home today,” he admitted. “She’ll be out by the car if you wanted to wait for me out there.”

Your stomach soured instantly. “It’s all good. I’m catching a lift with Riley,” you lied. Steve’s eyes shot from you to Riley, who was making his way to the locker room with the other guys. You prayed that Riley would give you a lift home. You two were friends enough that it shouldn’t be a problem, but on the off chance he couldn’t—home was a long way to walk.

Still, it was better than riding with Steve and Nancy.

“Oh, OK,” was all Steve said, his eyes returning to you.

You sent him a smile that he returned, even if his was a little strained. You chalked that up to Nancy waiting for him.

You started to walk away when he called to you. “Hey, I have something for you,” he said, gesturing for you to hold out your hand. You shot him a confused look, but held it out anyway.

He grabbed your wrist faster than you could move and ran your hand over his sweaty hair.

You ripped it out of his grasp and shoved him. “Yuck, Steve. What the fuck?”

He only laughed as he jogged to the locker rooms, leaving you standing there shouting after him.

+

It turned out that Rachel’s ‘April Fools’ party was just a normal party that happened to be the weekend after April Fools. You hadn’t expected anything more than that.

As always, Steve was the Keg King, and you could only watch on as the others held him upside down.

You had spent the majority of the night by his side like normal, downing your fair share of alcohol until the room started spinning and your feet no longer felt like they were your own.

You laughed at something Steve said as the two of you stood in the kitchen, surrounded by a few members of the basketball team. If you were honest, you weren’t even sure what was funny.

“Hey guys, I’ll be back,” Steve said suddenly, and he was disappearing through the crowd of people towards the front door.

You peered over the heads of the people in the living room to see Nancy Wheeler and Barbara Holland entering the house. You raised a brow as you watched Steve give them each a side hug. To say you were surprised to see them at a party was an understatement.

Barbara was nice, and you shared a class with her last year, but a party was not her scene. You imagined that Nancy was the same.

“What’s up with you?” Riley asked from beside you.

You turned your attention to him, his face blurring and swirling the more you tried to focus on it. “Nothing,” you mumbled. “I’m just surprised to see Nancy here.”

“See Nancy here, or see Nancy with Steve?”

You shot him a look that probably seemed a lot more intimidating in your head. “Hey, I don’t need you interfering in my life,” you slurred, stumbling over the word ‘interfering’.

“Right,” he drawled, his teasing smile making you want to be anywhere but beside him.

He hadn’t left you alone about it since you cornered him that afternoon a week ago and begged him for a ride home. He had agreed on the condition that you tell him why you needed one when Steve had only left five minutes before.

You lied for the most part, but he saw straight through it.

“I’m getting another drink,” you muttered, and he only nodded and turned back to the conversation.

You pushed through the crowd, saying hello to a few people as you tried to find Steve’s cooler with your drinks.

After five minutes of looking, you gave up, choosing instead to grab a beer from a random cooler.

You popped the cap, but as soon as the smell hit your nostrils, bile was rising in your throat. You stood completely still, hoping that the nausea would pass, but it only grew until you were shoving past people in search of the bathroom.

Luckily, the door was ajar, and you slammed it shut and collapsed in front of the toilet just in time.

Once you were sure that you’d gotten everything out of your system, you stood, washing your mouth out and staring at yourself in the mirror.

You still looked fine, aside from the spaced-out drunk look in your eyes.

Picking up the beer you’d left on the counter, you swigged it, the burn from the alcohol cancelling out the burn from the vomit.

There was a knock on the door, and you shouted ‘come in’ before you even thought about the fact that you were in a random bathroom and it wasn’t usually a shared space.

Fortunately for you, it was Steve. “Hey, Riley said he saw you rushing in here.”

You stumbled as you leaned against the counter. “I just felt a little sick,” you explained, gesturing to the toilet.

“Ah. You feeling better?”

You giggled. At what you didn’t know. Maybe at the way he looked so pretty tonight. Then you remembered where he had been. You took another swig from your beer. “Why aren’t you with Nancy?”

Steve glanced between you and the beer in your hand. “Where’d you get that? That’s not ours.”

He tried to take it from you, but you pulled out of his reach. “Where’s Nancy?”

“I don’t know. With Barb outside probably,” he said, finally succeeding in wrangling the bottle from you. He sniffed it. “Did someone give this to you? And why are you so caught up with Nancy?”

You scoffed, ignoring the first question. “Because you’re always with Nancy now,” you slurred. “It’s Nancy this and Nancy that. So, why aren’t you with her now?”

Steve righted you when you leaned a little too far back. “Because I’d rather be with you.”

“You don’t mean that.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and huffed in an exaggerated manor, all drunken foolishness. “You don’t mean that, Stevie. You would choose Nancy over me, and that’s OK!” You patted his chest. “It’s OK that you choose her. She’s nice.”

If Steve was confused before, he was completely and utterly lost now. “What are you talking about? You’re my best friend.”

You let out a broken sound, something between a laugh and a scoff. “I know. That’s the worst part. Because you don’t even realise just how much it hurts to be around you when I love you.”

Steve went rigid beneath you, his chest halting as he held his breath.

The two of you stood there, suspended in time.

“What?” he asked after a moment.

As he said it, the music died out and you stood up straight, the drunken cloud of fog floating away quicker than ever before.

You had not just said that out loud. But from the crinkle between Steve’s brows and the confused look on his face, you most definitely had.

You pulled away from him, brushing past him before he could stop you. He still tried, but you were faster, slipping out of his reach and racing through the crowd of people.

You couldn’t hear Steve behind you, but it was hard to hear anything over the music blaring and your blood thrumming in your ears.

Riley was where you’d left him, and for the second time in a week, you were begging him for a ride home. He looked concerned at first, but agreed when you threatened to take his keys and drive home yourself.

You didn’t see Steve before you left.

You didn’t even try and find him.

You didn’t want to do anything except get home and cry.

Which was exactly what you did.

+

You drove to school on Monday morning, despite the fact that Steve had promised to drive you every day this month.

After spending most of Saturday night and all of Sunday moping around and crying at your utter stupidity, you had to face school.

You were sitting in your first period English, the seat next to you that Steve normally sat in empty. At first, you were hopeful that maybe he’d skipped first period, which was the only class that you shared with him on Monday.

Your hopes were crushed, however, when Steve came bumbling into the room five minutes late.

He dropped into the seat beside you, and you could feel the heat behind your cheeks as you kept your eyes averted.

“You drove to school,” he said after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” you replied, still not looking at him.

He was silent again. “I waited for you.”

The guilt stabbed your heart until it was nothing more than a deformed pin cushion. “Sorry,” you said, and you really meant it. “I should have told you I was driving this week.”

“This week?” He was surprised, and he said it a lot louder than he meant to because the teacher was quick to shush him. He continued, quieter, “You’re driving this whole week?”

You nodded and dared a glance at him. “Yeah. My dad said I need to drive my car more or he’ll sell it.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it was far from the truth. The truth that you couldn’t face the consequences to your dumb actions.

“Right,” he replied, and he slumped back in his seat, fumbling with his pen.

+

The next few weeks went by in an awkward dance of you and Steve trying to act normal and failing spectacularly.

You managed to avoid him for the most part, which was more painful than you thought it would be. You hadn’t spent a day without him on purpose for years. And now you were doing it most days.

Maybe what hurt the most was that Steve wasn’t acting like nothing happened. It was worse. He was acting like you were some ticking timebomb that would fall apart if he looked at you for a second too long.

Which just made everything ten times harder to pretend like nothing happened.

You spent lunch in the library half the time, where you by chance ran into Barbara Holland.

She sat opposite you at the table you’d found in the back of the room. “Hi,” she greeted.

“Barb.” You blinked. You hadn’t seen her since catching sight of her at the party two weeks ago. It had been probably six months since you’d spoken to her. “Hey.”

She pulled some books and pens from her backpack, setting up for studying what looked like science. “This science project is killing me,” she said. “How are you getting through it?”

“Uh, I’m just doing some extra reading on the topic. I’m not in Mr. Hilton’s class, so I’m not partnered with anyone.”

Barb nodded. “Yeah, I’m not either. I think he’s only partnering people because it’s a senior-slash-junior class.”

“Yeah, probably.” You weren’t quite sure what to say after that. It was weird enough that Barb was sitting in front of you in the first place, let alone that you were making small talk about a science project.

“Nancy and Steve are partnered together,” Barb said, breaking the silence.

You looked back at her, brows raised. “I know.” Your answer was snappier than you meant it to be.

Barb studied you for a long moment. “He’s being a really good friend to her. Her dad has been giving her a hard time recently, and Steve knows all about that, so he’s been helping her out.”

“Cool,” you replied.

Barb went quiet again, and you turned back to your work.

“Steve’s birthday is next week,” she said.

You sighed. “I know when my best friend’s birthday is, Barb.”

If she clocked how grating she was being, she didn’t care. “He’s still having the party that you guys planned.”

You narrowed your eyes. You knew exactly where she was going with this little spiel.

She was trying to gauge if you were going to Steve’s party. It was no secret that you had pulled away from the senior festivities in the past few weeks. You hadn’t attended many parties or skipped classes for fun like you used to. The idea of getting drunk and admitting something even more mortifying while under the influence was terrifying.

You weren’t sure if Barb had come of her own accord, or if Steve had put her up to it. Or worse yet, if Nancy had done it.

You suddenly had no desire to talk to Barb, and you packed your notebook and textbook into your bag. “Thanks, Barb,” was all you said as you left the library.

+

Steve’s leg bounced up and down as he sat on his couch, surveying the surrounding partygoers. It was his usual crowd—the entire senior class of Hawkins High, along with a few sophomores and juniors that somehow snagged an invite.

His eyes drifted over the people he’d known his entire life, all standing in his house. He should be grateful that this many people knew him and wanted to come to his party. Instead, he was clinging to his couch and searching the faceless throng of people for the one person he really wanted to see.

The one person that his life had unknowingly revolved around until three weeks ago.

He gripped his beer bottle tighter.

Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and for a split second, it was you. It was your hand on his shoulder, a sly comment falling from your mouth before he even turned to look at you.

It was you. Until it wasn’t, and the hope in his chest dwindled as the image of you was replaced with a guy from his science class, wishing him a happy birthday and congratulating him on the great party.

He thanked him lamely, the bottle in his hands suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

You didn’t come to parties anymore.

He took a can from someone as they passed him, shouting ‘happy birthday’ over the pounding music.

It was his party after all. It was his birthday. He should be enjoying himself. He should have finished the lukewarm beer in his hands twenty minutes ago. He should be shot gunning the can in his hands with the rest of the basketball team by the pool.

His heart started to race.

He should be doing any number of things with any number of people.

But the only place he wanted to be was with you.

He was standing before he could stop himself.

The guy from earlier was by the door when he grabbed his keys. “Hey, where are you going, man?”

“Out,” was all Steve replied, only vaguely aware of the guy shouting that he couldn’t leave his own party.

He didn’t care about leaving his house in the hands of a bunch of high schoolers.

He only cared about getting to you.

+

You stared blankly at the perfectly wrapped gift box sitting on your dresser.

It was teasing you.

You didn’t know how, but it was.

Maybe with the promise of everything being all right if you just got the guts to go give it to Steve. It didn’t matter that he was having a party. You were still his best friend, you still had more right than anyone else to be at his place.

Plus, you had helped organise the party to begin with. If anything, you should be pride of place next to Steve.

But you weren’t.

The prospect of talking to Steve after your mortifying ordeal was almost too much to bear. You had managed to keep your stupid feelings to yourself for years and suddenly a few too many drinks and a random bathroom was what sent you over the edge.

It was humiliating.

You groaned and collapsed onto your back on your bed, covering your eyes with your arm.

Even without looking at it, the present was burned into the back of your eyelids. The worst part was, you knew that he would love it.

He’d get that goofy look on his face as he pulled the lid off, and he wouldn’t even bother to suppress the laughter that would burst from him. He would throw his arms around you without a second thought, and you would burn from head to toe at his touch while you pretended to be nonchalant about the gift, lying through your teeth about how you’d forgotten his birthday. You’d lie, despite the fact that it had taken almost six months and plenty of tears to make.

You’d pretend, just like you always did.

Normally, you and Steve would be so drunk by now that you’d collapse into his bed and he’d fall to the floor in a heap, yanking his pillow from beneath your head, ignoring your objections.

But now, you were holed up in your room ignoring that you wanted to be with him.

Each minute that ticked by was spend volleying between two thoughts: ‘I should go and see him’ and ‘I need the ground to open up and swallow me whole’.

After ten agonising minutes of going back and forth, you stood.

Steve was still your best friend. And he would never not see you on your birthday.

Your eyes found the gift again. It sat completely still, completely unmoving. You stared at it. It stared back.

“Fuck it,” you mumbled, and you were getting dressed before you could convince yourself this was a terrible idea.

+

The route to your house was second nature to Steve by this point.

Six years of biking, and then driving, between your place and his had the turns seared into his brain. He could get there blindfolded.

He hadn’t even bothered to turn on the radio. The silence was somehow comforting. It was neutral. It didn’t tell him that this was either the stupidest thing he’d ever done or that it was the best thing he would ever do.

Only his mind told him that. Each thought took up equal space as he drove, swinging up and down and around and around like unbalanced scales.

Your driveway came into view. The only car parked out front was your own, no sign of your parents’ cars. He didn’t know if that was a blessing or a curse.

He pulled in behind your car and cut the engine.

Through your window, he could see your bedroom light was on, the light curling from beneath the curtains. You were probably in there right now, curled up in bed reading one of your countless novels that he could never keep up with. You were always one to forgo sleep for the next chapter.

He chewed on his bottom lip as he sat there in the darkness, just watching. He heaved in a breath and screwed his eyes shut.

It was his birthday, and even though he didn’t have a cake or candles, he still had a wish.

A wish that he cashed in as he sat in his car in your driveway.

+

In your haste to get semi-presentable for a party, you couldn’t hear anything over your laboured breathing.

You threw on a jacket, and after scanning your appearance in the mirror, you gave up on trying to be anything other than the weird mess that you had become. It didn’t matter anyway. You were just going to see Steve and give him his gift, and then you were coming back home.

The gift was just where you’d left it, just as intense in its silent stare. It was a box, you thought darkly, how could it even have a stare?

Before taking it from your dresser, you opened the lid, peeking inside just to make sure it was still in there.

It was.

The jacket you’d made and sewed yourself staring back at you. From the way you’d folded it, the embroidery on the left-hand side was visible. Harrington’s Baby-Sitting Service in lettering so small you could barely make it out. The lettering colour was the same as the jacket material, so no one would notice it unless it was pointed out.

What wasn’t visible from the way it was sitting, was the other embroidery on the inside of the right cuff: your name.

In even smaller lettering, it wasn’t visible at all unless you ran your fingers over it and felt that it was there.

You slammed the lid back down and took it under your arm.

It was too late to back out now.

Descending the stairs, you were surprised to find your keys exactly where they should be. It was like your earlier self had been preparing for this moment.

Gripping your keys in one hand and clutching the present tighter beneath your arm, you yanked your front door open.

+

The gravel crunched under foot as Steve made his way to your front door.

Once he was in front of it, he hesitated.

What if you didn’t want to see him? What if he knocked and you didn’t answer? What if he knocked and you did answer?

What was he even going to say?

He hadn’t organised a speech on the drive over. He had a full fifteen minutes, and he wasted them on his own pitiful thoughts instead of preparing a speech.

Maybe he could go back to his car and work on one, and then come back and try it again.

But before he got the chance, the outside light flicked on, and he was left standing—completely frozen—inches from the door as it was reefed open from the inside.

+

You faltered, eyes widening as you registered that Steve was standing on the threshold of your house.

“Steve,” you breathed.

He looked just as shocked to see you standing there. “Y/N,” he replied, voice shaky.

You blinked at him, a million thoughts racing through your head. The first being: ‘Why aren’t you at your party?’ And the second: “What are you doing here?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times. “I—uh—I came to see you.”

“Oh,” was all you managed.

His eyes went from your face to your outfit to the gift under your arm. “Were you…were you coming to see me?”

You would have to be blind to miss the hopefulness behind his words and in his eyes. You shuffled and pulled the box from under your arm. Holding it in front of him now, it felt stupid. “Yeah,” you said finally. “I was going to give it to you at your party.”

“You’re going to the party?” he asked, a glimmer of surprise flicking across his face. “I didn’t think you wanted to come.”

“I don’t,” you mumbled, and you caught the way his shoulders deflated. “But I wanted to see you. It’s still your birthday, Steve.”

He nodded, swallowing harshly as an awkward silence descended over the two of you. He didn’t move to come in, even when you invited him in.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot as his eyes darted around wildly. “I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, and you paused from where you were dropping your keys into the bowl by the door. You placed the gift on the table and turned to look at him as he continued, “I’m sorry for not talking to you. I just thought…I thought that you wanted space. From everything. From me.”

You didn’t tell him that that was exactly the opposite of what you wanted.

“I wanted so badly to talk to you about it, but Nancy said that you probably didn’t want that. She said that you would see me when you were ready.”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the mention of Nancy. Of course he would go to Nancy Wheeler for help with his problems. It also didn’t help that she was right, sort of. “Steve, it’s all right, really. I was—”

“No,” he cut you off. “It’s not all right. I—I shouldn’t have let you walk out of that bathroom. I should have chased you down.”

“Steve—”

He held up a hand. “Just…Just let me finish, please.”

You opened your mouth, but closed it after a moment, nodding for him to keep going.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “When you said what you said in that bathroom, I was surprised. Not about what you said, but about how blind I’d been. Because you…I’ve been in love with you since freshman year.”

You froze, your heart thumping hard against your ribcage.

His eyes were trained on the floor, the words tumbling from his mouth. “And I told myself for years that it didn’t matter because I didn’t want to ruin anything. Because I was happy if I just got to be your friend. And then that night, I was worried that you didn’t mean it.” His voice broke, and it took everything in you to not reach out and hug him. “I thought that maybe you were just drunk and saying things you didn’t mean. And if that was true, if you really didn’t mean it, then I couldn’t risk saying it to you and having things become weird between us.”

When he finally looked at you, his eyes were lined with tears. Your own suddenly burned.

“But then things got weird anyway. And it felt like my fault. Because I couldn’t look at you without hearing what you said.”

“Steve,” you began, but you couldn’t work out where to start. “What about Nancy?”

He blinked. Then blinked again. “What about Nancy?”

You floundered. “Aren’t the two of you…?”

“Nancy?” he barked. “No. Nancy is a friend. She’s nice and all, but…”

“But what?”

His eyes found yours again. “But she’s not you.”

You stared at him. There was a tender vulnerability in his eyes, one that you had rarely seen from him. You had no doubt that yours reflected your own. A tear slipped from your eye, and Steve was stepping towards you before you could wipe it away.

He took your face in his hands, so gently that his fingers felt like little more than a whisper across your skin. He swiped the tear from your cheek. He was so close. “Steve,” you breathed.

“Y/N,” he murmured back, just as quiet.

Your eyes flickered between his, and when his own dipped to your lips, your breath hitched.

The space between you was infinitely large, but Steve made the leap anyway.

And as his lips pressed to yours, the world fell away into nothing but the two of you in this moment that had been building for six years.

[haunting-hufflepuffs-basement]

Introduction Post:

Hey hey people! This is my intro post!

I am both tired and a coward and have made a separate account to interact with the Marauders/Harry Potter fandom without having to deal with the TERFs every time I open tumblr. I must make it clear that I DO NOT support JKR in any way. I WILL NOT tolerate bigotry and WILL block you and tell others to block you too if I see any.

You can call me Spectr. My pronouns are she/her, and I'm aroace. I'm older than 18, but I'm sex repulsed so I basically won't ever reblog smut or NSFW. Minors are welcome, but I swear a lot, so maybe don't stick around if that makes you uncomfy.

This blog is for all my Harry Potter and Marauders headcanons, hot takes (and ice cold takes), art, fanfic if I ever get around to it, and general discussion. And yes, I consider the Harry Potter fandom and the Marauders fandom to be two wildly different beasts.

More about me under the cut:

I'm a LOUD AND PROUD HUFFLEPUFF! BADGERS UNITE! Seriously, literally every test I have ever taken, Pottermore or otherwise, good and bad, has put me in Hufflepuff. I am so agressively Puff it's not even funny. My secondary house is Ravenclaw, and my Ilvermorny house is (probably) Pukwudgie.

My favorite Marauder is Remus Lupin because I am basic and predictable. My favorite HP character in general is Ginny Weasley. Which leads into the next point:

I am very much a book fan, not a movie fan. I've read all the books at least 5 times, but have read the Sorceror's Stone and The Prisoner of Azkaban more times than I can count. I have watched the first 3 movies all the way through once and have only seen the later movies in bits and pieces. I don't hate them, but they're not my favorites.

In case you didn't catch it in that last paragraph, I'm American, and nothing I write will be Britpicked. Sorry.

While I loved Harry Potter as a kid and have a deep emotional attachment to it, it is a children's book with a LOT of worldbuilding and story issues. I like to use the world and magic as a sandbox to play in, less as a strict rule.

I don't really care too hard on ships. My aroace ass honestly says "the less you focus on it the better," but if you write it well, any dynamic can be good. That said, my usual likes are as follows:

Marauders: wolfstar (I'm basic trash), jily (again, basic trash), peter thinks everyone is hot but never gets to seriously date anyone r.i.p., marlene mckinnon/mary macdonald (although marlene has a fat crush on Dorcas Meadowes that never really goes away), Dorcas Meadowes/Pandora Lovegood, and optional Rosekiller but I get sad if we spend too much time with the Slytherins.

HP: Ron/Hermoine, Ginny/Harry if you like or Ginny/Luna if you don't, dislike Tonks/Lupin but I don't care that much, and I really really don't give a shit about anyone else.

I hate muggle AUs with a burning passion (no shame if you like them, just not my cup of tea), but I do like it when we get to let the wizards use muggle tech and in general be more integrated into the muggle world.

Peter Pettigrew is a marauder and I will DIE on this hill. I will defend this slimy turncoat disaster rat man to the end of my life. Please fight me, I'm excited.

I'm about to lose my goddamn mind scrolling through tags and looking for people to follow. Please reblog this or follow me first to make my life easier. Peace out!

[silverstarfics]

I was so determined to write something for this week’s @thunder-pride bingo square that I literally wrote this fic while having a minor allergic reaction on a plane - in other words there are definitely mistakes in this but please pretend not to notice them oops. Anyway, this is a longer fic than I'd usually post on here, so I recommend reading it on AO3 but I know some people prefer Tumblr, so here we are :))

AO3 link

Stray glitter itched under his left eye, his flag kept getting snagged on his baldric, and he could feel sweat prickling at the base of his spine despite the temperature regulator in his suit, yet Alan had never felt more comfortable in his own skin. His cheeks physically ached from so much smiling. He didn’t think he’d stopped grinning since he’d landed Tracy One on American soil two hours earlier – and no, that wasn’t just because he’d been reunited with his boyfriend. They hadn’t intended to spend practically three months apart – which had been a difficult adjustment after sharing an apartment for the past year – but the end of Alan’s semester meant he was officially back on the IR roster for the summer… just as a busy spell of rescues struck.

Technically, he was here on Official International Rescue Business: representing them at one of the world’s largest Pride parades. Usually, Gordon would have played the role, dressed up in yellow, pink and blue with an unholy amount of glittery body spray decorating not only his skin but his uniform. This year, Alan had taken up the reins. He secretly suspected his family had conspired to give him some downtime – because summer break was supposed to be restful, especially when you were an overachiever who’d decided to double major – and a chance to hang out with Brandon. He’d been instructed to have fun. Literally, Scott had texted him so.

Scotty: Have fun and enjoy your chance to be a dumb 20-year-old.

Scotty: Not too much fun though. You’re representing IR.

Alan had replied: so, on a scale from John to Gordon how much fun can I have?

Scotty: My level of fun only minus the daredevil risks.

Scotty: Just don’t get arrested, that’s all I ask.

“Coming to you from the Pride event of the year,” a loud voice declared dangerously close to Alan’s ear, jolting him out of his thoughts, “I’m here with a bi icon AKA my boyfriend-”

“Really?” he interrupted. “That’s how you’re introducing me?”

“Oh my god, fine.” Brandon hooked an arm around Alan’s neck and dragged him within view of the camera. “I’m here with International Rescue’s one and only Alan Tracy.”

“Better,” Alan accepted, trying to repress the urge to sneeze as Brandon’s flag drifted across his face. “Are you filming or livestreaming right now?”

“Filming,” Brandon assured him. “I’ll edit stuff out later, so you can relax.”

Alan flung his arms out to let his own flag billow in the light breeze. “Oh, I am so relaxed.”

Brandon, on the other hand, looked set to launch into orbit. He’d downed nearly a litre of soda since he’d met Alan at the airport and had chased it down with cotton candy and churros; he still had cinnamon dust on his face and it looked like extra freckles. The sugar rush had hit him around the same time as his adrenaline spike when music had begun to blare from speakers up-and-down the parade. He’d already had several fans come up to him for selfies and signatures which had only added to his energy levels. Even now, he was bouncing on the spot.

“Brand,” Alan tried to hiss, then raised his voice to be heard above the clamour of music and chatter and the swell of live instruments around them. “Brandon, dude, chill.”

“I am so frickin’ chill,” Brandon announced gleefully. He grabbed Alan’s hand and laced their fingers together, rising onto his toes – he hadn’t stopped complaining since Alan had hit the growth spurt that had placed him above Gordon and Virgil – to pull him into a kiss. “See? Chill.”

“Uh huh,” Alan deadpanned. “Super chill.” He frowned at the taste of sugar. “Did you find more candy? Where? And how? I swear you haven’t left my side.”

Brandon levelled the camera with a conspiratorial look. “All geniuses have their ways.”

“I’m cutting you off.” Alan reconsidered his words. “Ew, gross. You’re making me sound responsible.”

Brandon flicked his red baldric. “I feel like responsibility and IR are a joint package.”

“You’ve seen my astroboard stunts.”

“Good point.”

The parade began with an explosion of colour that reminded Alan of the infamous occasion when Gordon had accidentally upended Virgil’s palette mid-painting session. International Rescue had been assigned to the group of NGO floats, so he wasn’t expecting many people to point him out from the crowd. Maybe he’d gotten too used to his life on campus; after the initial buzz, no one cared that The Alan Tracy of International Rescue was a part of their ranks. But to his surprise, there were easily hundreds of people cheering and waving banners directed at him – or at IR or at his family: at least two signs asked for Kayo’s phone number – as the procession marched through the streets. Brandon captured everything on camera, including Alan’s shellshocked expression which prompted several internet comparisons with various memes.

“Hey, hey, Alan, look up.” Brandon cupped Alan’s face, tilting his head to glimpse the livestream of the parade on the giant screens above them. “Better smile, dude!”

“Oh my god.” Alan’s voice pitched into a humiliating squeak. He cleared his throat and fixed a grin on his face as the cameras stayed on him. “Okay, so this- this is a thing that’s happening. Cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

“Breathe,” Brandon teased. He raised their linked hands into the air, prompting another chorus of cheers from the crowd. “People love us! And they really love you, so quit freaking out.”

“I am not freaking out,” Alan protested, then proceeded to do exactly that as a weight crashed into his legs from his right. He staggered and caught his balance against Brandon’s shoulder.

“Woah,” Brandon mumbled, switching off the vlog. “Hey, lil dude. Where’d you come from?”

If the fact that Brandon had turned off the camera weren’t warning enough, his sudden change in pitch from overexcited delight to soft concern would have informed Alan that the new limpet clinging to him was definitely child shaped. He glanced down to glimpse a mop of tawny hair and an adoring, toothy smile. The kid had to be around eleven, certainly no older than twelve, with rainbow face-paint and a shirt emblazoned with Thunderbird Three.

“Hey,” Alan greeted, struck by the baffled urge to laugh. He knelt down to place himself at the kid’s level – honestly, his new height just kept causing problems. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Leo.” The kid – Leo, Alan mentally corrected himself – rocked on his heels as his grin grew impossibly wider. “Sorry for… you know. Running at you and jumping onto the float and stuff. But I really wanted to say hi, ‘cos you’re, like, super cool and you’re kind of my hero, so, um, yeah.”

Brandon leaned down over Alan’s shoulder to whisper teasingly, “Aw.”

Alan elbowed him. “Shut up.” He turned back to Leo. “That’s awesome, buddy! It’s great to meet you. Are you here with someone? I don’t want them to think you’ve gone missing.”

Leo gave an emphatic nod. “My mom.” He pointed in the vague direction of the crowd. “She’s out there somewhere.”

“Oh, boy,” Brandon whistled. “I know where this is going.”

Alan tousled Leo’s hair, then stood back up. “So, I’m thinking…”

“…We should search for the kid’s mom?” Brandon concluded with a fond eyeroll. “Yeah, okay.”

After a brief discussion with the other representatives on the float, Alan made his excuses, then clambered down with Leo perched on his shoulders and Brandon close behind them. The kid kept chattering, hands anchored in Alan’s hair and his heels drumming against Alan’s chest; it brought back treasured childhood memories of the times Alan had sat on Scott’s shoulders as his brother picked paths through crowds. He was aware of Brandon sneaking photos of their silhouettes to send to the family, all dressed up in sparkles and flags and IR blues.

Leo’s mom looked suitably ruffled. Her face was flushed with a mixture of humiliation and horror beneath the shimmery sheen of glitter spray. She fretted her hands in the hem of her t-shirt – pale blue with a supportive motherly caption that made both Alan and Brandon look away – as she began to utter so many apologies that they tripped over one another.

“I am so, so sorry.” She caught Leo’s eye with a warning stare. “He didn’t mean to disturb you. I only took my eyes off him for a second- Leo, have you apologised? Say sorry right this instant. I can’t apologise enough. Thank you so much for bringing him back. It’s just that you’re his hero, you see. He’s been obsessed with the Thunderbirds since he was only so high-” She gestured at her hip. “-and when you came out… Well, you’ve been a healthy role model for him. His hero, really, and- And I should stop rambling and let you get back to the parade. Leo, get down here.”

Alan crouched down to let Leo clamber from his shoulders. He wasn’t sure how to act in the face of such praise – the word hero was tossed around frequently by civilians but it was usually addressed towards elder brothers and on rescues, not a public setting – so settled for some terrible pun outta Gordon’s handbook and laughed nervously while Brandon rolled his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it.” Alan offered Leo a fist bump which the kid readily returned. “He’s been no trouble.” He feigned a serious tone. “I have an important question though: which is the best Thunderbird?”

“One,” Brandon declared and instinctively jumped outta reach before Alan could kick his shins.

Leo wrinkled his nose. “Three, duh.”

“Correct answer.” Alan patted him on the head. “I just had to check.” He grinned at Leo’s wide-eyed, starstruck expression. The kid kept looking at him as if he were a dragon, although perhaps a unicorn would be a better comparison given the rainbows painted onto his baldric. “Maybe don’t run off without telling your mom next time though, okay?” He lowered his voice to a secretive whisper. “I think you scared her. You might want to say sorry.”

Leo’s face fell. “Sorry, Mom. I wasn’t thinking…”

“Clearly,” she replied dryly. “But I think we can let it slide just this once.” She straightened up, craning her neck slightly to meet Alan’s gaze – and nope, he still wasn’t used to that one, it was so weird, how did Scott and John live like this? “It’s his first Pride.”

“Oh, heck yeah,” Brandon cut in. He held up a hand. “High five, lil dude! That’s awesome!”

Leo met his high five with a resounding smack. Alan observed their interaction, fully aware that he probably had the heart-eyes that he’d been accused of on so many occasions by nosy siblings, but hey, whatever, sue him, it was a cute sight. He tugged absently at the edges of his flag as warm affection spread outwards from his chest. Cameras clicked around him as people filmed – hey, it’s the guy from International Rescue – but somehow it didn’t bother him anymore.

“Really,” he continued, forcing himself to turn back to Leo’s mom. “Leo’s a good kid. You should be proud of him. I got super overexcited at my first Pride too. It can be kind of overwhelming.”

She gave a light laugh. “It’s all he’s talked about for the last three months.” She lowered her gaze, voice softening as she hesitated, then confessed, “He was scared to come out to me. I don’t know how I ever gave him that impression – Lord knows I kick myself every day for making my baby think I wouldn’t accept him – but when you came out… He said that if you could be brave enough to tell the world, he could be brave enough to tell his mama. So, thank you, Alan. Truly.”

And-

Wow.

Okay. That was… a lot.

“You’re so emotional,” Brandon teased, prodding Alan’s bicep. “This is why Goose says you have golden retriever energy, dude.” He skimmed his thumb over Alan’s palm, a swift, inconspicuous show of support. “We should probably get back to the parade, but it was awesome to meet you.”

“Of course.” Leo’s mom snagged her son’s shirt. “Say goodbye, Leo.”

“Bye,” Leo chirped, then threw his arms around Alan’s middle. “Thanks for… everything.”

Alan let Brandon lead him through the crowd to a café. They found a quiet corner at the very back, tucked away in a shadowy alcove beside a potted plant and an old Pacman machine. Brandon briefly vanished, then returned with a glass of water and a chocolate chip cookie. He slid both across the table to Alan, then waited expectantly, all wide eyes and furrowed brow.

“Thanks,” Alan replied after a minute. He took a sip of the water, then drained it in one as he realised how dry his mouth had become. “I don’t know why that threw me so much. Like, it was a really nice thing, so why am I…?” He held up a shaky hand. “…you know?”

“’Cos it’s a big deal,” Brandon said quietly. He bumped his sneaker against Alan’s beneath the table. “You’re allowed to be rattled by it, Al. It’s a good thing, but it’s still a lot. Like, I can still remember the first time one of my viewers told me I’d inspired them. I’m pretty sure I threw up afterwards, so you’re doing better than me. Then again, I was like fifteen, so…”

Alan split the cookie. “Want some?”

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” Brandon sighed, grinning as he snatched up half. “Let’s chill here for a few minutes, then we’ll head back out, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Leo was right, you know?”

“What d’you mean?”

Brandon’s smile was the soft, secretive kind, usually reserved for places without the threat of cameras. Alan had gotten to see it almost daily since they’d moved in together when he’d started at MIT, but it still left him mildly breathless.

“You’re a good role model to a bunch of kids like him.”

Alan ducked his head. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Brandon corrected. “Now eat your cookie so we can get back out there.”

Much, much later, after they’d flown back to the island and washed off most of the glitter, Alan had chance to process everything. It made him happy but also nervous at the same time. Like, woah, he was someone’s role model? Kids considered him to be their hero? That was wild. He said as much, airing his thoughts aloud while Virgil clattered around the kitchen and Scott picked at the bowl of chopped pineapple that was intended for the evening’s pizzas.

“It’s just so weird,” Alan continued, drawing his legs up to sit cross-legged on the bar stool. He’d changed into sweatpants and a hoodie that he was pretty sure he’d stolen from John at some point after his sixteenth and had subsequently grown into. There was still glitter caked onto his cheek despite the fact that he’d attacked it with a makeup wipe. “Like, me? I still feel like a kid.”

“You’re Scott’s twenty-year-old child,” Gordon joked as he sidled through the patio doors and made a beeline for the pineapple. “He’s never gonna see you as an adult. Trust me, I’d know.”

“I’m not that bad,” Scott protested half-heartedly.

Gordon patted him on the back. “Smotherhen.”

“Irresponsible guppy.”

“And I wear that title with pride.” Gordon dropped onto the stool beside Alan. “Speaking of pride, how was it? Brandon didn’t give me any of the good gossip. I need details, Allie-gator.”

Alan frowned. “Did you torture my boyfriend? Is that why I haven’t seen him all evening?”

“Nah, that’s ‘cos Penny abducted him. They’re conspiring. We should both be scared.” Gordon tossed a cube of pineapple into his mouth and shot Virgil an innocent smile when his brother heaved a grand sigh and stared pointedly at the pizza bases. “Anyway. Pride. Details. Go.”

“A little kid said Alan was his role model, so Al’s spiralling,” Kayo summarised from her perch on the opposite counter, nursing something strongly alcoholic. “Now you’re all caught up.”

“Aw.” Gordon propped his chin in his hands. “That’s kind of adorable.”

“That’s what I said,” Virgil interjected. He prodded at the bowl of cake batter in his hands, then reached for a baking tray. “Do I leave this as vanilla or add cocoa powder?”

“Add chocolate.” Alan dropped his head onto the counter with a groan. “It’s weird though. I feel… like a fraud, I guess. I don’t have my life together. I survive on pizza pockets and Red Bull.”

Scott glanced up. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Only during finals. I’m mostly a functional adult the rest of the time.”

John’s hologram blinked into life above the projector. “Before you spiral any further, you should know that the internet loves you. Footage of the parade has ended up online. You’ve not just inspired one kid, but a lot of people.”

Alan tossed his hands up. “How is that supposed to make me feel any better? That’s so much more pressure.” He slumped onto the counter. “I just… You guys were my role models, right? And you did a pretty good job-”

“Thanks,” Gordon said, just as Kayo added, “Everyone apart from Gordon did a good job.”

“-so, I’m really happy to be inspiring people but also I don’t want to mess up.”

A contemplative silence settled over the kitchen.

“You’re not going to mess up,” Scott said after a moment. He slid the pineapple out of Gordon’s reach, then moved to stand beside Alan’s seat. “Hey, look at me for a second?” He placed his hands on Alan’s shoulders and offered him a reassuring smile. “All you need to do is keep being yourself. Try your best, stand up for your beliefs, and you’ll do just fine, Allie. Besides…” He tousled Alan’s hair. “You’ve been our hero for just as long as we’ve been yours.”

“Gordon’s not included in that,” Kayo called. Gordon made a crude gesture in her direction. She flung an arm at him. “See? He’s just not role model material.”

Scott ignored them. “You’re doing great, Al. I’m proud of you.”

Alan swallowed the lump of emotion in his throat, then asked, “Can I make a Pride joke?”

Scott sank onto a bar stool beside him and dropped his head onto the counter. “Wake me up when the pizza or the cake is ready, I can’t cope with the terrible puns that are about to happen.”

“Oh, but Scotty,” Alan began.

Gordon let out a wild laugh. “This is gonna be so much fun.”