#which isn’t a bad thing but just makes it even less scary

[enjoythesilentworld]

Wille's Month - Birthday

the big day! 28th! happy bday wille! @youngroyals-events

Wille gets a real kid’s birthday.

read below the cut or on ao3. (T, 1.9k)

It isn’t until his 20th birthday that Wille really gets to acknowledge it’s his birthday and not hate the thought of it. 

His 18th birthday was a little overshadowed by the chaos of, you know, stepping down from the line of succession and sending the country into a media frenzy. Thank goodness Simon had been by his side, though; to ward off the unwanted attention from the tabloids, the irate criticism from the monarchists, and the ever-enclosing walls of Wille’s anxiety which was so tightly bound to the whole thing. Just like the year before, he’d woken Wille up with a song and a dry sandwich, except that year Wille didn’t have a breakdown, and they fell asleep happily wrapped in each other's arms.

The next year wasn’t bad by any means. In fact, it was really great. He, Simon, Felice and Sara went on a big trip to Amsterdam to celebrate their graduation. Wille didn’t mind that all the attention wasn’t on him. In fact, after the previous two years, he was more than happy to pretend it wasn’t his birthday. That it wasn’t actually meant to be the second official Wilhelmdagen; wasn’t another year his brother had missed. As was becoming tradition, Simon snuck downstairs to the kitchen of the hostel at which they’d been staying to put together a makeshift sandwich, and then whispered him a happy birthday song in the privacy of their tiny bunk. They’d all spent the day exploring the city and getting high in the park, giggling and joking about the terrifying yet glorious affair that was post-graduation. 

So, when the first year of university is coming to a close and Simon asks him what he wants to do for his 20th birthday, he shrugs.

“We don’t need to do anything,” he says, looking up from his book where he’d been lounging and reading in a spot of sun. It’s a warm, breezy day in late April, and the sounds of the city that drift in the window of their shared apartment is a nice background noise.

Though it had been a scary decision to make, both he and Simon thought it might be nice to study abroad for a while, to escape the scrutinizing eyes of Sweden after all the drama. And so, after many teary goodbyes, they’d swept off to New York. Wille enjoyed the anonymity and Simon enjoyed the music scene. They wouldn’t stay in the States forever, but it felt real and adult to make this big move and go through so many huge life events together. That being said, after that first year at Hillerska, Wille is sure he and Simon could weather any storm, as long as they had each other.

“Are you sure?” Simon runs a hand through Wille’s hair, cut short ahead of the hot summer. He folds his book and grabs Simon’s hips, guiding him to sit in his lap. “Not even a small party? We could invite some friends over for a game night like normal, just this time we all wear silly party hats.”

Wille smiles at the care Simon was showing, both of them still aware of the awful memories of his 17th, which still sting to think about. He shakes his head and shrugs again.

“Whatever.” He presses an innocent kiss to Simon’s neck, then lingers there, inhaling his scent. “I just want my sandwich and my song. And you in my bed.”

Giggles vibrate through Simon’s throat. “You have me in our bed every day.”

“It’s never enough!” he exclaims, standing them up and throwing a squealing Simon over his shoulder to carry off to bed.

It isn’t until a few days later that Simon returns to the topic, bounding into their bedroom and looking at Wille with wide, excited eyes. It’s the kind of look he has before Wille finds himself dressed in a onesie and cowboy hat, dancing on a small stage at some random club in Brooklyn at 4am. The things Simon is able to convince him to do – and sober, no less – are boundless. He sits up a little straighter in anticipation of whatever nonsense idea Simon has concocted this time.

“I have the best idea,” Simon grins maniacally, bouncing from foot to foot. Wille raises an eyebrow. “For your birthday.”

“Does it have to do with the extra bed time I requested?” he asks, smirking.

“No,” Simon drawls. “Don’t worry about it. Just clear that whole day. I will take care of everything.”

He moves forward again and grabs Wille’s face, squishing his cheeks, then says, very seriously, “It’s going to be perfect.”

“Okay,” Wille agrees, the sound muffled by his smushed face.

It seems his original prediction hadn’t been entirely off base. On the morning of his birthday, Simon wakes him with a song, a sandwich, and a kiss, then disappears. A few minutes later he returns with a big paper bag and empties the contents onto their bed. The sheer number of bright colors hurts Wille’s eyes this early in the morning.

“Is this my present?” he asks hesitantly, eyeing the goods. He spots a bright pink graphic t-shirt, a few party hats, a tiara, and some deflated balloons.

“Yes!” Simon exclaims. “Well, kind of. Today, my love, you are having the birthday you never got because you were too busy being a stuffy prince. No offense.”

“Okay.” Wille tilts his head in confusion, though he can’t help but smile softly at Simon’s excitement. “What does that mean?”

“First, put this on.” He holds up the pink graphic tee, which Wille gapes at, now that he can see the whole front. There’s some kind of mouse mascot dressed in a shirt and hat, and the text reads ‘Birthday Boy! 10! Wille!’ in big, block letters.

“I’m not turning 10,” Wille grumbles, slowly taking the shirt. He thinks Simon might have lost it.

“Look,” Simon grins, taking off his sweatshirt. “I even have a matching one!”

Wille bursts into laughter. Simon has definitely lost it.

The shirt does in fact match Wille’s, with the same oversaturated colors and slightly off-putting mouse character, except the text instead says ‘Daddy of the Birthday Boy!’. Not only that, but the shirt is one size too small, tight across Simon’s chest and the bottom only reaching an inch above his belly button. Despite how ridiculous it is, Wille is not too opposed to the sight of Simon in a crop top.

Once he’s got his laughter under control, Wille pulls on his own shirt. It’s a crop top on him as well. Simon sheepishly tells him that they were cheap and he’d shrunk them a bit in the dryer on accident. Wille could not care less. He finds the whole thing incredibly endearing, and they lose a bit of time when Wille pulls Simon back into the bed with him.

“Okay!” Simon shouts, finally pulling away. “We have things to accomplish today. I have big plans for you, Mr. Birthday Boy.”

“Do you now?” Wille asks teasingly, raising an eyebrow.

Simon rolls his eyes and presses a finger into Wille’s chest, pushing him away.

“I am going to show you the wonders of the world today, baby. In the form of sticky floors and questionable pizza. The American Dream!”

After donning their full outfits for the day – Simon with a party hat and Wille with his princess tiara – they head out for the day.

Their first stop is laser tag. The people at the front desk give them very odd looks, because they are grown men joining up with a bunch of preteens, but Wille can’t bring himself to care. Simon looks so excited, and he’s just so touched that his dear boyfriend went to all this effort. Plus, he loves laser tag.

They end up on opposite teams. Simon is ruthless, appearing around every corner to take Wille down no matter how far he runs or how well he hides. They shriek and yell at each other, louder than any of the kids, and sprint across the obstacles courses, trying to get the jump on the other. Three games later, Wille is winded and his face hurts from smiling so hard. After eating some, indeed, very questionable pizza, they stop in the bathroom to clean up. Standing next to each other in the mirror, they make googly eyes and silly faces. Turning to face one another, Simon reaches up to straighten his tiara and Wille fixes the string on his party hat.

Heart bursting with love, Wille whispers, “Thank you for this.”

Simon smiles and Wille swears the colors around them grow brighter. “Don’t thank me yet! We’re not done.”

The next stop is a trampoline park, which Wille has never even heard of before. A whole warehouse, a ridiculous size that could only be an American concept, filled with trampolines, foam pits, and screaming children. It’s perfect.

They swap out their shoes for grippy socks and chase each other out onto the floor. They play each other in basketball on a trampoline court, Wille jumping over Simon’s head to dunk the ball, then tackling each other to the ground to fight for it. Next, they get roped into a game of dodgeball with a group of nine-year-olds. Everyone gangs up on Wille and he ends up curled up in a corner, being pelted by an army of children and his boyfriend, who looks way too pleased by the situation. Finally, they have a jumping competition into the foam pit. Simon wins with his double backflip – which, who even knew he could do a backflip, much less two – but Wille is still quite proud of his toe-touch jump. Afterwards, they share a slushie in the parking lot, sitting on a curb and smiling at each other like idiots.

Late that afternoon, feeling sticky and sweaty but so fulfilled, they stumble back home to shower off. Wille thanks Simon thoroughly but is again told they’re not quite finished. They can’t change back into their matching shirts for the last activity of the night, too covered in mysterious liquids from their events of the day, so they opt for more adult-clothing. Wille keeps the tiara, though.

Simon leads them to a bowling alley, which they’ve been to a few times already, but this time Simon has rented out the party room and invited the few friends they’d made here in the city.

The employees at the bowling alley have really gone all out with the decorations. Purple and pink streamers span the entire ceiling, interspersed with dozens of balloons. A big sign on the wall says ‘Happy Birthday Willie!’ and he can’t even find it in him to be angry at the misspelling.

They bowl for hours, talking and laughing and overall causing a major ruckus. His friends have all gotten him stupid gag gifts, which is perfect and so much better than any stuffy tie or fancy cufflinks like he was used to as a prince. Wille keeps catching Simon staring at him with a big, happy grin. He looks radiant, so much better than that awful day a few years ago.

“I’m so glad you’ve had fun today,” he says later, arms wrapped around Wille, looking up at him with tired eyes.

“Today was perfect, Simon.” He presses a kiss to Simon’s forehead. “Thank you so much. Best 10th birthday ever.”

Simon giggles. “You deserve it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. Happy Birthday, Wille.”  

[merlotdom]

I’m reading a horror book about a nanny and I’m not even upset about the ghost I’m just scared every fucking day she’s going to lose this dream job

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Nervous mc meeting her boyfriends familly !!

for: Azul, Jade, Duece, Malleus, Jamil

(Had to make a lot of assumptions in this bc we don't really know what MOST of their parents are like so)

Azul Ashengrotto:

Azul’s mother has a keen eye and a serious look on her face when you first meet; if you’re not of a tough constitution you might falter under her gaze but otherwise she presents the front of a protective mother looking out for her son. She had made her own bad choices in the past (ex: first husband) but she knew Azul was a little more discerning when it came to that; he had to know the proper way to treat a lover just from seeing his mother with her current husband. She didn’t want to openly doubt your sincerity but there’s a quiet threat lingering between you that if you were to ever break her sons heart, land or sea she WILL be finding you.

Deuce Spade:

Deuce’s mom is the nicest woman you’ve ever met, and her kindness bleeds into the meeting immediately as she makes you feel as comfortable as possible in her home. She wants you to treat it as your own, fawning over how sweet and cute you were, tearing up a little that Deuce found someone like you. She gladly embarrasses her son to the point all your nervousness melted away, but Deuce was then left twice as nervous as he had not a single clue what kind of memories his mom held in the hefty albums she placed on the table in front of you.

Jade Leech:

The Leech parents are scary at first sight, but appearance isn’t everything. Once they know who you are, and trust me, Jade has written home about you, they’re very welcoming. They practically consider you part of the family since Jade is so found of you, and they admit to being a bit worried that either one of their sons would find a partner suitable for them. They do try to make things a little less intimidating, telling their definitely normal business people bodyguards to remain mostly out of sight so you feel more at ease.

Jamil Viper:

Jamil is a little embarrassed to introduce you to his family, but he knew he’d get more grief from his sister than his parents. She wants dirt but she’s on her best behavior in front of their parents, who greet you respectfully and welcome you into their home wholeheartedly. You can see that his mother is quite warm from the start, with his father mentioning that they had been eagerly awaiting their official meeting with you; he was also eagerly awaiting a day where they met your parental figures, which caused Jamil to let out a deep, exhausted sigh.

Malleus Draconia:

You have never been more stressed in your life. No matter how much Malleus, and Lilia to some extent, tried to assure you that you simply had to exude a level of confidence that showed you weren’t easily intimidated, it would be smooth sailing. Easier said than done when she’s a woman even more intimidating that Malleus himself, who you loved dearly and could still admit he had his moments where he was strikingly terrifying. She’s proper, not necessarily friendly but kind as she invited you into her home, making it clear that as long as you were respectful and followed the rules she laid out, the two of you would have no trouble getting along.

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TEN

in which you and eddie find out just how much can happen on the roof of a parking garage. a scary criminal could show up, a phone call could interrupt important moments, a bit could go too far, and... marriage vows could be exchanged?

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, one (1) use of y/n, minors dni

→ wc: 8k+

→ a/n: if this is bad don't hmu. i returned to my wordy girl roots. also shout out to @br0ck-eddie and @big-ope-vibes for beta reading this for me <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

10:00 ─────ㅇ──────────── 24:00

HOUR TEN - 1:00 AM

Eddie is an erratic driver, which you should have known, but it doesn’t make you any less scared as he takes the empty curves of each street with intense speed. It doesn’t make you loosen your grip as you press into him as tightly as possible, practically molding your body to his. 

You’re just grateful he was right – you didn’t see another soul for the entirety of the five minute drive. And if you did, you would have been mortified for them to see the way you clung to him. 

His secondary location is a parking garage. If it were anyone else, if it were even so much as Eddie from ten hours before, sirens would be going off in your head and screaming for you to run as far as possible from this situation. 

You don’t. Because it’s Eddie, and it’s Eddie being kind and flirty and civil. A new version of Eddie, and a new version of you. 

You sit still and polite as he navigates the bike through a gap in the gate, the perfect size for a motorcycle to fit. 

He keeps driving in circles, nearly making you dizzy, going up up up the parking garage levels until the ceiling breaks and you catch sight of the night sky again. The stars are more visible this high up, above the buzz of the city, closer to the atmosphere in altitude. 

“Still alive back there?” he calls out as he cuts the engine, coming to a stop in one of the darker corners of the top level. You tell yourself it’s for practicality – if any sort of security happened upon this level, the two of you would remain hidden.

“Mhm,” you hum just loud enough for him to hear you through the helmet, arms aching from how tightly you continue to hold onto him. 

If either of your hands were to slip, you’d graze against his partially exposed torso. Your fingers would make contact with his hips, would trace the expanse of curves and softness, possibly find their way to the trail of sparse hair down the center of his stomach. 

It’s enough to make you fist his shirt into both hands, just to prevent that outcome. 

“You sure?” he twists his body to look at you, and as he does, a hand comes up to rest on one of your arms. 

It’s just a hand, and it’s just an arm. It’s just skin on skin. It’s nothing to call home about; Robin has grabbed your forearm plenty of times out of unbridled excitement, Steve has held onto it to guide you through crowds without losing you countless times, even Nancy has held your arm there before. None of them ever burned you before. 

Maybe it’s not that Eddie’s touch scorns you, it’s not his palm kissed with flames. When his skin closes over yours, it only focuses your fire. That’s why it sears, that’s why it leaves your skin nothing but hot coals. 

You burn for him. 

“I’m positive,” your breath threatens to fog up the glass visor from the inside, “How do I get off this thing?” 

He chuckles, and the hand holding your arm trails down, passing each of your knuckles with the press of a fingertip, drenched in intention. There is no reason for his touch to linger. There is no reason for him to draw roadmaps over your skin – it isn’t his to mark. And yet, the ashen lines appear all the same to you. 

“Just swing off. I’ll stay sitting to balance the bike.” 

You unravel your arms from around him, leaning your chest away from his back and immediately missing the proximity. You miss it as you clutch his shoulders, you miss it as you lift off the bike, you miss it as you stumble ever so slightly with your feet planted on concrete, and his hand shoots out to your hip in an effort to balance you. 

It was an earnest effort, a casual touch, absolutely nothing but innocence in his fingertips as they wrap around your hip for a mere second before retracting. That doesn’t stop it from being gasoline on your fire. 

He stands off of the bike unaware of the effect he’s continuing to have on you, pulling the keys from the ignition and popping the kickstand with such cruel casualty it begins to drive you insane. 

“You need help with the helmet, or is it just part of your look now?” Eddie inquires as he walks around the back of the bike to stand in front of you. 

The fucking smirk and the fucking dimples and the fucking eyes and the fucking-

“I need help,” you deadpan, playing into his game of cat and mouse. You’re willing to see how far you can push this until it breaks, is he? “You put it on me – you take it off.” 

Your mind wanders to his comment, his threat, earlier. How if you didn’t get ready to come here, he’d undress you himself. 

If him taking off this helmet is the closest you will ever get to that, so be it. It’ll give you something to think about tomorrow night in the comfort of your own bed. 

Eddie shrugs happily, taking a step forward and carefully reaching out both hands to either side of the helmet. He’s slow in lifting it off, certainly just being careful and mindful of not hurting you, but it sends you hurtling even further to insanity. Inch by inch, the night’s cool air creeps up over your chin, over your cheeks, over the bridge of your nose. Your eyes flutter shut somewhere in the process.

When the helmet is fully removed, you keep your eyes shut. You wait for the shuffle of Eddie stepping back from you. You anticipate a comment on the state of your hair, your surely disastrous ‘helmet head’. 

Neither comes. Instead, a warm breath hits your now cold cheek. 

Your eyes open to find Eddie standing impossibly close to you. All downcast amber as his eyes trace over your face steadily, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips that remain slightly agape with each puffing breath. You don’t think he’s even recognized the way you had closed your eyes, nor the moment you’d opened them to catch him memorizing you up close. 

“Eddie?” your voice cracks with the questioning, his name heavy on your tongue, “Is… Is everything okay?” 

When his brown eyes meet yours, gilded honey and roasted chestnuts, they make your breath catch. 

He nods with trepidation before breathing out, “Yeah. Everything’s…” 

His words trail off, fading out into the buzz of the night surrounding you. The sounds of a city that never sleeps – distant sirens, a one-off car alarm, the random chirping of a bird, the beeping of a crosswalk signal. They all meld together into white noise, none of the singular components discernible. They’re nothing more than a background to the way Eddie is looking at you. 

He raises a hand suddenly, still leaning in at a creeping pace, and tentatively reaches out to carefully tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. As his fingers curl into the skin behind your ear, lingering for far too long, the heel of his palm brushes your cheek. 

You lean into it. Your face turns ever so slightly, eyes beginning to flutter again, desperately seeking out his touch. Enticing him to break, to cup your face fully, to give you more than you deserve in this moment. 

Because he’s looking at you as if he’s about to kiss you. His eyes are flickering to your lips as you give in to futile want and heedless need, continuing to lean into his feathered touch, and you’re sure he’s about to kiss you. And you’re sure that you’ll let him. 

His chest heaves just as painfully as yours. His pupils widen larger than yours, if possible. You watch an internal war rage behind his eyes, and you’re begging the part of him that wants you, wants this, to come out the victor. You want him to abandon all sensibility as you have. 

Fuck civility. Fuck nuclear explosions. Fuck ocean waves. Fuck forest fires. Fuck friendship. 

You’re past the point of return. All you want from him is his lips on your lips. 

“Baby,” he whispers, a sickly sweet prayer falling from his lips, not a single ounce of malice soaked into the nickname. It’s not sweetheart. It’s not uttered in the same playful cadence as when he said it as he started up the bike. It’s not him teasing you. It’s a plea, a beg – he’s begging something of you that you’re too far gone to recognize. 

But you hum in response, not knowing what he’s asking of you, opening your eyes as wide as you can manage in your moment of weakness, recognizing that his palm now fully cups your cheeks as his fingertips lazily press into your hairline. He’s closer now, leaning over you and covering you in his shadow, multiplying the darkness you reside in. 

His nose bumps against yours. The oxygen you breathe in is replaced by his breath. He’s close, so terribly close, yet still so far. You’re tempted to finish the distance, but you need him to come to you. You need him to want this as much as you do, if not more. 

You need to be the ocean this time. Because if you come to him, you’ll drown. You’ll descend to his darkest depths, and never find yourself above the surface again. Irreparable, collateral damage to yourself. All for wanting a man you’d claimed to hate ten hours prior. 

Eddie’s freehand is grazing your hip, prepared to curl around you with force this time, to pull you into him and kiss you until the two of you are left bloodied and bruised, when your phone rings. 

Both of you jump. In an instant, the closeness is lost – his hand leaves your cheek and hair, your eyes fully open, both of you stand awkwardly and flustered in the light shadows. 

“I-” you don’t know what to say, hands shaking as you reach into your pocket and wretch out your phone. 

JOHNNY BOY. 

Jonathan is calling you, and you don’t know whether you want to commit a federal crime against him or your phone. Or maybe yourself. 

You swear you can taste Eddie despite your lips never touching his. You can still feel the weight of his palm against you. 

He has to take the phone from you, this time only because you’re holding it so tightly, glaring down at it so indignantly, he’s scared you might break it. 

His thumb that once rested against your skin so gently is gliding across the screen, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “Hello?” 

“Hey! Eddie!” Jonathan’s voice happily calls out, and it does nothing to chip away at your fruitless fury. 

He was going to kiss you, and now he can’t even look you in your eyes. 

“Are you both there right now? Or is she asleep?” Jonathan continues over the line. 

You finally break your silence, “I’m here. We’re both here.” 

“Where are you dudes?” A second voice from Jonathan’s side of the call asks, and you recognize that warm tone immediately. Argyle. 

He won’t look at you. His gaze is sturdy on the phone, as if this wasn’t just a regular phone call but a video chat, as if there’s something more interesting being reflected in the screen compared to your currently desperate face. 

You want to scream at him to hang up the phone. You want to beg him to throw the damn device over the wall behind the two of you and let it fall to the street, let it shatter and let the deal be damned just so you can feel his lips on yours and taste the sweetness of his tongue. 

You just want to scream, honestly. Like a child. Stomp your foot, let out a fitful shriek, and pull the boy back into you. 

You don’t. Partially because you’re grown, and partially because he won’t look at you. 

There’s a doubt that creeps up as Eddie says something to the two boys on the line, a shadow of doubt that is darker than the night sky hanging above you two. Maybe Eddie didn’t want this. Maybe he’d just gotten lost in the moment, and now he felt ashamed. 

The scream is left in your lungs, and the blooms on your vines quiver from the insecurity its residency radiates. 

“Alright,” Eddie suddenly chuckles, pulling you back into the conversation, “So, uh, did you guys call for anything else besides playing babysitter?” 

“No, that’s… all,” there’s hesitation in Jonathan’s voice, words unspoken that finally makes Eddie look up to catch your gaze. 

Brown eyes meet yours – you burst into flames like it’s the first time. 

The shadow of doubt eviscerates in the glow of the flames, the glow of your cheeks, as you watch him take you in with careful consideration. There’s no regret in those eyes, only remarkable care. A connection, a string tying you to him, the knots first set in place that night amongst friends. 

He’s looking at you like the Eddie you thought to be dead and gone. 

“You sure about that?” his tone is teasing, but his face is set in stone, eyes never leaving yours, “Sounds like you’ve got more to say, Byers.” 

Argyle is the one who speaks up now, “It’s not that, it’s just… The photo you dudes sent is on your motorcycle. Are you even at your apartment right now?” 

“Oh, absolutely. We actually only went outside to have a photoshoot on old Nightfury here. We’re currently safely tucked into bed, don’t worry, dudes.” 

Eddie’s finally cracking a grin at you, and through it you’re transported to the past. Before you is a man of possibility, someone not yet an enemy. There’s a blank page set out before the two of you, and he’s wielding the pen like a weapon to be seen. 

Nightfury? You mouth at him. 

He blushes in response. 

Oh, you’re definitely bringing that up after this phone call. Fuck talking about the almost kiss. 

“Why do you sound so sarcastic?” Argyle questions, “Are you lying to us?” 

“Argy- Yes, he’s lying. Christ, where is she? Put her on the phone instead,” Jonathan sounds entertainingly frustrated at the moment, and you take a step forward, palm reaching out for your cell. 

Eddie doesn’t hand it over, head tilted at you, his youth breaking through the shadows that sharpen his jaw, “No can do, boss. Already tossed her body into the canals.” 

“You what-” Jonathan’s voice is shrill, and Eddie bites back his laughter as he remembers that Steve is the only one in on that inside joke amongst the three of you. 

“He’s lying,” you finally call out, taking another step closer, “I’m fine. He’s… it’s a joke. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Okay. But are you guys actually at the apartment, or not?” 

“We’re not,” your honesty has Eddie playfully scowling. 

I hope you kiss me when this is over. I hope you berate me for not playing along, and I hope you press me against the cold concrete behind us, and I hope you kiss me until I can’t breathe. 

The version of yourself from ten hours ago is practically wailing on the floor, kicking and screaming in defeat. You don’t even care. You can admit it – you want Eddie Munson to kiss you. You don’t have to say it out loud, you don’t have to voice that want quite yet. It’s enough for your beating heart to silently admit it and accept the truth. 

“Then where are you two? Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie opens his mouth to answer, but you’re shaking your head with warning, knowing he’ll only lie and make things worse, “Some parking garage. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Some parking gar- are you two fucking stupid? It’s one in the morning, go home,” Jonathan’s using a brotherly voice you’ve only had the pleasure of hearing on rare occasions – usually when you’ve joined him, Steve, and Robin out at the bars, and the latter two have drank well beyond their limits. 

“We know what time it is,” Eddie scoffs. Now that he’s set his stare on you, he’s unrelenting. He keeps you in his line of vision as if you’re a buoy in his ocean, as if he’s capable of getting lost in his own waves. 

Hopefully he is. If you can’t be an ocean to him, you hope he has to suffer in his own depths. 

“We’re being safe,” you assure the two boys over the line. If you took one more step, you would brush up against Eddie. Shoulder to shoulder, cotton sleeve against leather sleeve. You don’t, but the thought still thrills you. 

“Safe?” Jonathan is now scoffing, making Eddie twist his face in annoyance, which makes you want to laugh. He’s getting a taste of his own medicine. “Do you two even know our city’s crime levels? Eddie, I’ve seen you in fights, you cannot-”

“First of all, you’ve seen me in drunken fights,” Eddie snaps in interruption, finally looking down at the phone he holds, “I can throw a fucking punch when I haven’t drank my body weight in whiskey. Second of all, we’re fine. I’m sure if I can’t take whatever big, scary criminal that comes our way, little miss independent here can. She’s scarier than we give her credit for.” 

Silence. You almost don’t notice the way Jonathan and Argyle have gone quiet as you’re still hung up on the nickname of little miss independent. 

Eddie’s the one who steps closer this time. He glances around the empty rooftop of the parking garage, and he takes a microscopic step closer to you. It’s more of a shuffle, really, but it’s enough for your shoulders to finally brush. 

“Shit, man,” Argyle is sighing over the line, as you stare at the ground and Eddie stares at you, “Nance was right.” 

Eddie freezes. There’s a choking sound from the phone, and it sounds an awful lot like Jonathan. 

Nance was… right? 

“What was Nance right about?” you ask, looking up to Eddie quickly. You expect him to be just as confused as you are but he looks petrified.

If all his blood hadn’t drained from his expression, he’d surely be blushing. But he’s stark pale beneath the moonlight, eyes glued to the screen as if Argyle could see his death stare over the line. He looks like a man caught red-handed. You have to look over his palms, the one holding your phone as well as the one quickly being shoved awkwardly into his pocket, just to double check that the skin there isn’t painted maroon. 

“What was Nancy right about?” you repeat yourself, but the question is less directed at the phone now. You don’t care about Argyle or Jonathan’s answer – you care about Eddie’s, “What did she sa-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jonathan interrupts, “We’ve gotta go, but there’s no need for you guys to send a photo this hour. We, uh, we’re the only ones awake probably, so… consider this your official hourly check in. Please, stay safe.” 

“Talk later, my dudes!” Argyle yells in the background. 

The line goes dead. The black screen returns to flash both yours and Eddie’s face in the reflection. One looks overexposed, left out in the light for far too long, and the other looks shadowed, as if having been left behind in the dark. 

You’ve been left in the dark. Whatever just happened between the three boys, you’re clueless to it. 

You have to put your hand out for Eddie to give back the phone, still looking far more nervous than he was before the phone call. All the cocky attitude, all the hints of teasing, all the almost kisses are gone. 

Now’s a perfect opportunity to grill him on what Nancy said. He obviously knows, and if you were smart, you’d dig your heels in and force an explanation from it. You deserve answers; after an exchange of apologies and a quiet acceptance from both of you at giving this a real chance tonight, you deserve to not be left as the odd one out still. 

“Why is your bike named Nightfury?” 

Except it’s not the perfect opportunity. If you ask him now, he’ll deny knowing anything about it. You’ve learned a lot about Eddie in the last ten hours, and the major discovery has been the way in which he uncurls pieces of himself for your eyes only. He is slow and shy in being observed, and he won’t offer honesty when put on the spot like that. 

If you change the topic, if you let it slide, he might tell you on his own time. You’re praying he tells you on his own time. 

He looks taken back by your question, watching as you tuck your phone away into the pocket of his sweats that rest on your hips, “What?”

“You mentioned your bike’s name is Nightfury,” you shrug nonchalantly, “Is it some superhero reference I’m not getting? It’s fitting, but I just… I don’t know. I’m intrigued, I guess.” 

“Superhero reference? Uh, no, not quite,” he scrunches up his face, and you recall the weight of his palm on your cheek. The almost taste of his lips almost on yours, “It’s- Jesus Christ, now I wish it was a superhero reference. The truth is so lame.” 

You break a smile and bump your shoulder against his, trying to shake the racing of your heart, “Can’t be more lame than all your action figures back home.” 

“Didn’t you say they were actually cool?” 

“I actually called them creepy, if I’m recalling correctly.” 

The two of you move as a unit, gliding over to the concrete ledge that over looks the city, simultaneously leaning your full body weight onto your forearms as Eddie digs out a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket’s pocket. 

He catches you eyeballing them, and immediately shakes his head, tapping the top of the carton against the palm of his hand (the same palm that was once cradling your face so gently), “I’m not sharing my cigs. Fuck off.” 

There’s no malice, and that’s probably the only reason that, once he’s pulled his own cigarette out of the pack and discarded it onto the concrete in front of the two of you, you immediately shoot a hand out to take one. You await for him to snap at you, to smack your hand away, to repeat himself. 

He stays silent as you pull one for yourself. Offers his lighter, even, once the end of his glows cherry red. 

You wish he would just lean over and occupy your space again, cup his hand around the end of the cigarette that is dangerously close to your cheek, let the flint fueled flame flicker between you as your gasoline fueled embers sparked to life again. You wish, you wish, and you wish. And he doesn’t. He doesn’t even meet your eyes as you pass the lighter back and inhale the smoke. 

You hold it until his fingertips brush the palm of your hand, before you exhale sharply. 

“It’s from How to Train Your Dragon.” 

You have your cigarette halfway to your mouth, leaving it hovering as you side-eye him, “What?”

“Nightfury. It’s from the movie, How to Train Your Dragon. The, uh, main dragon, Toothless, is a Nightfury.” 

Oh, Jesus Christ. You already wanted to kiss him badly enough, already found your defenses drooping limply when it came to him, and then he had to go and say shit like that. 

“You named your motorcycle,” you start slowly, tilting your head in his direction, “After an animated movie? Cute, although I don’t think scary metalheads like yourself were the intended audience.”

Your words make the corners of his mouth twitch. Smoke curls out from the center of his lips, puckered in consideration as he turns his gaze to the buildings towering around you. “I’m a massive nerd who holds a weekly D&D club and collects mythical creature figurines. I am exactly their intended audience.” 

“You have a D&D club?” 

You’ve learned a lot about Eddie tonight. And yet, every new discovery you uncover continues to surprise you.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he laughs quietly into the night air, “You saw the inside of my apartment, did you really not see the whole Dungeons and Dragons bit coming?” 

You shrug, still watching him watch the city, “I… I don’t know. Contrary to belief, I really don’t know much about you. A shame, really.”

“Are you trying to say you’d like to know more about me, sweetheart?” 

Yes. “God, no. I think I’ve had my fill of Eddie Munson Jeopardy for the night, thank you very much.” 

You want to know the name of his band, you want him to ramble on about the game you know nothing about, you want him to elaborate more on his love for How to Train Your Dragon. You’re brimming with wants, overflowing your cup with curiosity. He shouldn’t intrigue you this way. It’s dangerous – you don’t know where you’ll put all this information when the night ends and you two part ways, both five hundred dollars richer and returning to the hatred that had been established. 

Was it even hatred anymore? Or had it morphed into a softened version of itself, something more akin to indifference? 

“Hey, Eddie,” you watch your cigarette burn away at itself, think of it like your insides as the flecks of ash fly off into the wind of their own accord, “What happens after tonight?” 

You’ve caught him off guard; he’s not expecting the question, and it occurs to you he’s just as unsure as you are. 

He doesn’t know where to go from here either. 

“I dunno,” he murmurs. His arm shifts, and the hand that has his cigarette tucked between the fingers is now resting beside your own, “What do you want to happen after tonight?” 

I want everything to change. I want to laugh with you again. I want to see you when we’re out with our friends and for you to smile instead of scowl. 

You just shrug, and it makes your shoulders brush again, his leather crinkling against the movement, “Nothing has to change. We can… We can pretend it was all a bad dream, if you want. Although I’m definitely referring to your motorcycle as Toothless from now on.” 

“No one will believe you,” he scoffs, ignoring your comment on nothing changing. But the curl of his lips had faded instantaneously, a subtle change that would have been missed if you weren’t watching him so closely. But you were. You noticed. You’d probably never be able to not notice. Even when he returns to scowling, even when he’s returned to the bottom of his ocean and you’re left with legs too weak to continue kicking in an effort to keep you afloat, “But… yeah. Yeah, it can all just be a…. Dream.”

Dream. Not a bad dream, just a dream. 

“It’s weird that we don’t have to take a photo, right?” you’re quick to change the subject, to avoid deep diving into his implications. 

It should give him whiplash, but he seems completely unaffected as he waves a hand around the open air in front of you two, “Not really. But we could still take one, if you want, though. Just for us.” 

Just for us. A stolen moment and a blanket of security that this night existed, that it wasn’t just a shared fever dream and that it was all real. The Eddie you first met still exists six feet under, you two managed civility, and it was real. 

“We could,” you agree, a bit too eager for your liking, “I mean, it’s a pretty view. We shouldn’t waste it.”

He doesn’t comment on the fact that he’s mentioned he comes here often, that this is a space he finds himself running to, just like the bar. He bites his tongue just as he had when you’d stolen a cigarette for yourself. A cigarette now wasted, because you hadn’t taken another drag in far too many minutes.

The hand that rested beside yours so casually inches closer, pinkies beginning to overlap. “Exactly.” 

Your hand shakes the entire time as you reach into your pocket and produce the phone, as you hover the camera to perfectly capture your two hands and the cars that are so small in comparison on the streets below. Overlapping pinkies become hooked, twisted together, and you’re not sure if it was you or Eddie that took that final step. 

You leave the flash off as two cigarettes glow orange like a sunset, like the ending to a beginning you’ve been hurtling towards at full force with Eddie this entire night. 

It’s a nice photo. 

Eddie lowly whistles as he glances over at the screen and the barely blurry photo displayed, “That’s a good one. We’ve gotta put it in the scrapbook, for sure.” 

“The scrapbook?” you giggle, still memorizing every detail of the moment frozen in time, “What are we going to call it? ‘The Night Y/N and Eddie Didn’t Hate Each Other’?” 

“The name can be a work in progress. After all, the night is still young. Maybe murder is still on the table and it can get shown on our Dateline special.” 

You snort, and he grins. Your pinkies are still interlocked. 

“Imagine the name of that episode. Just Keith Morrison narrating our greatest hits,” you muse as the breeze picks up around the two of you. It’s nice, cool and relieving from the flames that have been building and creeping up your wrist. 

Both cigarettes are wasting away now; neither of you are willing to let go of the contact long enough to properly smoke them. 

It’s as if he’s noticing it, too, as he curls his hold even tighter, a subtle squeeze you return without thinking. It’s just a small touch, a miniscule connection between the two of you, but it feels bigger than anything before. It’s larger than the almost kiss, it’s larger than his apology, it’s larger than everything. That’s what it is – it’s nothing in the grand scheme of things, but it’s everything to you. A rebuilding and rekindling of all the paths not taken.

Eddie pulls you from everything suddenly, not by pulling away his pinky, but by putting on his best Keith Morrison impression, “Two enemies, one apartment, an unfortunate series of city canals. Hatred is a fine line to dance, but just how far can one young woman go when a twenty-two year old man takes things too far. Tonight, on Dateline…” 

Your free hand shoves at his shoulders, and his pinky clings stiffly to yours to keep his balance, “Shut up! Why am I the one murdering you? I’m a helpless woman! If anyone’s getting murked, it’s me.” 

“Oh please, sweetheart, that’s exactly why you’d be the one to get away with it! No one suspects the sweet college girl who lives in the dorm down the hall to murder the big, bad wolf,” he cackles, returning to lean into your space tauntingly as he sets the scene, “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t throw my ass into those canals if given the chance.” 

I wouldn’t. “I’m about ten seconds away from it.”

“Yeah?” 

No. “Yeah.” 

“Well, that’s hot.” 

You remember his whimpers from the bathroom suddenly, and bloom into color. Instead of answering his banter, you bite your lip and look harshly down at your conjoined hands. Pinky in pinky, cigarettes dying down together. The burning end has neared where your fingers clench on the filter, and you tell yourself that that’s the source of the heat coursing through your body. It has to be, because it certainly can be the effect of Eddie. Eddie, touching himself. Eddie, moaning. Eddie, definitely not stubbing his toe. 

Flames and oceans, you remind yourself, flames and oceans do not mix. Can not mix. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asks with certainty, the cadence in his voice fading into something of serious discussion. The playfulness is still there, just more subdued, “And can it… not cause some big fight between us this time?” 

Well, that can’t be good. “Go for it.” 

“I told you why I hate you, so… why do you hate me?”

You understand his request immediately; it’s a loaded question, no doubt. 

Why do I hate you? 

For the life of you, you can’t pinpoint an exact moment. And unlike Eddie, you’re willing to tell him the truth, you want to reward him with honesty. The time of avoidant answers has passed for you, and you want to bare your soul to him in a peculiar sense. 

“I- Okay, I don’t know exactly why,” you begin, considering finally disconnecting your pinky from his before deciding against it, “So I’ll talk you through it, but no interruptions, okay?” 

“Okay. I’d pinky swear, but, y’know,” he raises your hands into the air ever-so-slightly, acknowledging the position he’s put you two in for the first time in the entire conversation. 

You both laugh at the sentiment before you continue on. 

“I’d like to preface this with the fact I know you won’t tell me the truth about this, even the others can’t tell me the truth about it, so don’t think of this as me seeking out answers. I’m the one offering an explanation, not you. So…just…” you take a sharp breath in and catch his eyebrows shooting up into his bangs from the corner of your eyes. You can’t look at him head on, a lingering fear of showing this type of vulnerability with him being impossible to shake, “That first night we met. You were nice, right? You were nice, we got along, and then… Then I went to the bathroom. And I came back, and suddenly, you… you weren’t nice. You weren’t quite mean, not yet, but you certainly weren’t acting the same anymore. And I don’t know why you changed, I don’t care,” An absolute lie. You cared. You cared so assiduously, far more than you should, to know why, “But after that, you were just… cold, I guess? And it all built up. I thought it was a game at first, I gave up trying to be friends and decided whatever was happening between us might be normal. You’d give short answers, so I gave short answers. You’d insult me or make fun of me, so I’d insult you or make fun of you. It was just a game. Until you got mean.” 

A siren flashes by on the street below, and you can’t even make out the sound of his breathing. Now feels like a good time to pull away your pinky, to take a final drag of your cigarette, to leave behind his burning touch. The moment you try, he completely traps your finger between his pinky and ring finger. 

He’s not letting you go without a fight. 

You’re tired of fighting him. 

“I actually think it took me a while to really hate you back, y’know? I think I was still holding onto this... this childish hope that you didn’t mean to be cruel. Or that you were just jealous of me intruding on your friend group – you told me yourself that you guys go all the way back to high school. I was this invader, and I excused your cruelty for a really long time because of it, because I told myself I understood. But then… six months ago, I stopped understanding. I had to admit defeat and hate you because you didn’t give me much of a choice.” 

“Steve’s party.” 

He says it so quietly, you almost miss it. He sounds remorseful, he sounds sad, he sounds regretful, he sounds mournful. 

“Steve’s party,” you confirm just as quietly. Your pinky is slack against his as his grip finally loosens, “That night, everything you said… It finally felt personal. From the minute I got there, you were just… awful. You knew exactly where to hit me when I was down. And it took me shattering Steve’s poor glass to realize you really do hate me. You hate me, so I hate you.” 

It’s out there, the truth – your only reason for hating Eddie Munson was because he hated you. It was based on a worthless principle. Born out of necessity, you had forced yourself to hate the man who currently has your pinky wrapped around his, who had pledged his protection over you with the same mouth that had claimed he’d never miss you if you evaporated from his life. 

The hate would always be there. It wouldn’t wash away with his waves, and it wouldn’t turn to ash from your flames. You couldn’t get your hopes up that one night could fix it all. 

“I was a dick that night. I know I’ve already said sorry but… I’m sorry,” he finds his reply in the darkness, in a hushed tone. Quiet and ridden with shame. 

His pinky falls even more slack with yours as if he’s silently offering to let you go, as if the memory of what he’d done is enough to remind him you aren’t his to keep. But you’ve already given up the fight – your pinky stays with his. 

“You were a dick,” you agree, “But I know you’re sorry now, it’s just a matter of… accepting it. Letting it go. I’ve not exactly been innocent in this. Remember Chrissy Cunningham?” 

He laughs dryly, clearly recalling the blonde you’d caught him out on a date with.

“Jesus, fuck. Yeah, I remember Chris. I never did get a second date.” 

“Because of me,” you try to tease, doing as he would and leaning your bicep into his. 

He nods, “Because of you.” 

You’d been extra spiteful that night. It was before Steve’s party, even. The moment you’d seen them in that booth, Chrissy giggling far too much at each of what had to have been Eddie’s terrible jokes, watching her perfectly manicured hand settle on his shoulder, you had been out for blood.

You’d approached them, and made Chrissy believe Eddie was already your husband. You’d even switched one of the rings on your right hand to your left ring finger. An entire debacle had been made in that diner, and Eddie looked ready to murder you when Chrissy had left and murmured something about ‘calling him later’ as you continued to credit him for being an absolute cheater. 

She never did call. You must have really sold the entire lie with your crocodile tears. 

“I was a bitch that night,” you supply as you let your cigarette finally drop from between your fingers, hitting the concrete as it begins to sizzle out, “So… I’m sorry. And we’re even.” 

Eddie steals his cigarette into his other hand and takes a final drag before he properly puts it out, “Looking back now, it’s kind of fucking funny. Seriously. Did you know I knew her in high school?”

You don’t expect his lighthearted response, but you take it in full stride with a squeeze from your pinky, “What?”

“Yup. She never gave me the time of day back then. And after our date, I found out she’d been already trying to get back with her on-again, off-again boyfriend from back then,” he shrugs, turning to glance at you, “Guess I wasn’t the cheater.” 

“Jesus, I’m sorr-”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize for her. Apologize for the fact you never even signed a prenup with me, or invited me to our wedding, wife.”

That makes you break. You both laugh so hard you have no choice but to relinquish your hold on each other, bringing your hands up to laugh freely into your palms. 

“I am so sorry, my dear husband,” you taunt, “Maybe I’ll remember to invite you to the renewal of our vows in five years time.”

“Five years?” he crinkles his nose, shaking his head harshly, nearly tearing his curls from his makeshift bun, “Fuck that. I never even got to say my vows the first time. You owe me a wedding, princess.” 

“You never bought me a ring.”

“You never bought me a ring.” 

“My bad,” you barely squeak out before you succumb to even more laughter. Eddie’s dimples shine as he joins you, looking to the ground as his shoulders shake. 

He sighs deeply once the two of you compose yourselves, turning and leaning his back onto the ledge, staring out at the empty parking lot, “Where should we have our honeymoon? I’m thinking the diner would consider hosting us, even after your fiasco.” 

“The diner?” you feign offense and mimic his position, “Fuck that,” you parrot his words right back, “You’re taking me to Paris, pretty boy.” 

It’s a deliberate choice; the nickname doesn’t slip carelessly this time. It’s said with a conviction that makes Eddie blush, that makes him look at you with dark eyes. 

“Pretty boy and sweetheart,” he mumbles, gaze flickering down your face, “We make quite the odd married couple. I don’t know how they’d feel about us in Europe.” 

“They’d certainly stop and stare at first glance,” you play along, still giggling quietly, “But I think then they’d see just how in love we obviously are and just….” you pause and let your eyes flutter shut for dramatic effect, not catching sight of the way he suddenly melts for you, “Swoon.” 

You don’t see it, but he’s looking at you like he’s about to kiss you again. 

“Here,” he suddenly says, fiddling with his fingers when you snap your eyes back open, “Allow me, Edward Munson, to vow myself to you…. Uh….” he pauses as he realizes he doesn’t know your full name, and so you jokingly lean in and whisper it to him as if you aren’t the only two up here. He repeats it back as if he’d always known it, and you’re both back to giggling, “In sickness or in health. In hatred or in murder. In…. bets and from this day forward.” 

He’s holding one of his rings, one decorated with a chunky skull, and motions for your hand. You offer it and allow him to slide the ring on with as much ease as he had slid the helmet onto you. 

It fits a bit big, but you both look down at it as if it’s the world’s greatest gift. 

“Wow,” you breathe out, your hand still cupped by his, “It’s certainly no diamond.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Allow me to just go to the twenty-four hour diamond shop and get something more to your taste, my beloved,” he goads, finally dropping your hand. 

The metal is warm on the inner ring from his skin, searing into you just as his touch does. 

“You sure know how to commit to a bit, Munson,” you murmur beneath your breath, lifting your hand to inspect the ring more closely. You’ve never paid much mind to his rings before, only ever knowing that they were there and they were a staple to his look. 

“That I do, wife,” he grins widely, boyish in his suddenly shy stance, “You’re already wearing my sweats and my shirt, why not add the ring? Complete the look?” 

“Complete the look,” you repeat and shake your head, shrugging, “Okay, fine. But just for tonight.”

Just for tonight, because after tonight, nothing changes. Your heart pangs at the thought but you don’t let your smile or joking demeanor fade with him. 

“Of course, of course,” he waves the hand that is now one ring lighter, “Just for tonight. Come morning light, everything goes back to normal. No one has to know you spent the night married to me, sweetheart.” 

“I mean, I’ve already moved in for the night,” you remark, looking up into his eyes, “We have moved quite quickly, haven’t we?” 

“We have. All that’s left is consummating the marriage, or whatever,” he shimmies a shoulder into you, turning to face the motorcycle, “Speaking of home, we should get going before any scary criminals show up and you have to beat them up for me.” 

Your cheeks are burning red, your hand is carrying his ring and flames, “Oh, I’m sorry. We are so not brushing right past the fact you know the word consummate.” 

It’s easy. Being with him is easy, on fire or not. It is easier to enjoy him and joke with him, fall into civility with him, than to force yourself to hate him. You don’t care if tonight changes nothing for him; it changes everything for you. 

“I’m brighter than I look, doll.” 

It is easy to burn for him. For tonight, and for the rest of your life, quite possibly. 

He picks the helmet up off of the seat and holds it out for you as you follow him,  immediately making you grumble in protest as you take it without a fight. 

You decide to take one last chance before the helmet separates the two of you again. One last way to tell him you don’t hate him, you don’t know if you ever hated him, you aren’t sure if you’ll ever hate him. 

“You know, I think we skipped a step,” you flip the helmet, not meeting his eyes this time, mustering all your bravery, “Usually, you have to kiss your bride, then consummate the marriage.” 

Quiet. He’s too quiet.

You’ve stunned him into silence, and you take it as a sign that you’ve gone too far. You’ve brought the almost kiss back up in the most indirect of ways, and you regret it immediately. 

“I’m sorry,” you immediately try to rectify, “I- that was dumb. Bad joke. I… I’ll leave the bits to you.” 

You don’t give him a chance to reply as you shove on the helmet, much less gracefully than he had put it on you, and wait for him to get on the bike.

No words are exchanged. You can’t see if he’s blushing through the tint of the visor. You convince yourself that he’s only tense as you climb onto the bike behind him because he’s uncomfortable now, because you’ve breached a limit you’d never even noticed.

Of course he wasn’t going to kiss you. Of course you shouldn’t have mentioned it, let alone joked about it. You’re an idiot. Even in civility, you’re an idiot. 

 He drives even faster to the apartment this time, which is dangerous considering you don’t grip him nearly as tightly. 

A game of fate you should have realized is dangerous to play. It is dangerous to burn for him, because he does not burn for you. This fire is one-sided and self-destructive, and although it is easy, you should have known better. The hating him is safer than the wanting him. The fury is safer than the yearning. The glasses shattered were safer than the moments shattered. 

You arrive back at the apartment. He parks the bike. You return the helmet to him. 

You walk up the stairs ahead of him. You don’t speak to him. You twist the ring he gave you. 

You keep your head down at the door. He rustles with his keys.

The burning is too easy. You should have known better.

But then, he says your name, keys still hanging from the lock of the door to apartment 2C. 

You look up at him, and wonder if he sees your embers, clear as day. You wonder if he’s about to tell you to collect your things and inform the others that the bet is off, that the two of you will scrounge together the money you owe them and forget the night ever happened. 

“Tonight changes nothing, right?” he questions once he has your full attention. You can only nod, ignoring the sharp pain of reality, “Nothing that happens tonight has to matter, right?”

You swallow hard. “Right.” 

He’s the one nodding now, seemingly lost in thought.

This is it. This is the part it all ends. 

“Great,” he finally concedes, voice raspy. You’re about to parrot back the sentiment when his hands are suddenly back in your hair, and his breath is back against your cheek, "Then fuck it."

This time, almosts don’t cut it. He kisses you, and he tastes like salt water as he meets your ash.

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[sadesluvr]

Battinson! Bruce Wayne - NSFW Alphabet

A/N: Okay, I know I’m *really* late to the party but for some reason I’m back in my superhero era (I’m a retired Marvel girlie😔✊) and I’ve got Battinson brainrot….This is my first time writing for any Batman, and I haven’t rewatched the movie in entirety so sorry if this isn’t accurate!! :3

Written with a fem! reader in mind, but can be applied to anyone :)

18+ only, Minors DNI!

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He’s always very caring, if not very subtly. I get the vibe that he’d become shy/reclusive after sex again, and so he communicates through his actions. If he lost control with you, he’d get you a rag/water/etc and leave it by you, and either signal to Alfred to run you a bath, or do it himself.

He stares at you, and you *might* not know what he’s thinking, but it’s definitely positive…He loves you and it’s scary :’)

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s quite neutral on his body, but he likes his hands. It’s one of the parts of his body that gets the most work done, and they’re the same ones to protect you. On his partner, even though he appreciates your entirety, he’s a hips and thighs guy.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Prefers cumming in you. It’s a deeply intimate act, and although there are big implications he loves the sensation of your walls clenching around him, and the way he feels inside you.

It’s also less messy! Still, he’s not averse to cumming on you… See W for more ;)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He enjoys voyeurism, or ‘stalking’. Before you’re in an official relationship, he’ll follow you around the city, getting used to the routes you take and places you frequent. It starts off in a place of curiosity and desire to protect, but it gets a little kinky when he sees you semi-nude, or having sex with someone. He literally can’t get the image out of his head, it’s in his contacts…

When you’re together, he likes watching you get ready. We know he’s quiet af, so you won’t ever notice him standing outside a door/in a corner as you get ready, or undressed to take a shower. He’s even watched you touch yourself and it gets him so hard

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

None…Like, he may even be a virgin lmao (Which is HOT if Reader is experienced😳) The first time with you may be a little awkward - he’s not bad, but it takes a while to get him to feel relaxed and vocal about his needs. Practice makes perfect ;)

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Cowgirl - He likes being able to hold onto your waist and thighs while you fuck yourself on him, and he loves looking at you in the heat of the moment. Your whole body is on display, and it’s beautiful.

He also likes missionary!! It’s classic and romantic, and his favourite position to cum inside you. He melts when you cling onto his back and beg in his ear…

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He’s not overly humorous, and your first times together are deadly serious. But, he’s basically a human cat and whilst he isn’t playful, he will make a dry joke or crack a smile at the little things when the time comes - He just takes a while.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Bruce isn’t a hairy guy, so the carpet definitely matches the drapes. Before being in a relationship with you I don’t see him caring that much of what he looks like down below, but he keeps it trim. Any hair is very light/short to the point that he may as well be clean shaven. He couldn’t care less about what hair his partner does or doesn’t have as it’s not something that’s a dealbreaker for him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

OKAY. At first, he is definitely a little distant, detached even, but it’s literally because he’s inexperienced and is at one of his most vulnerable points. He does the basics, like checking in to see if you’re okay, but it seems a bit strained. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, of course! As time goes on, and he starts to be open to the whole idea of love, he can become very romantic. It’s dark af in the manor already, but he *might* become open to the idea of candles/mood lighting, just for you. He’ll touch and caress you more, say a few words in your ear, and he’ll always give you eye contact! Sex is really revealing for him so it’s always a big affair.

(I headcanon that a lot of his ideas of romance are kind of old fashioned, just because of how he grew up viewing his parents’ marriage, and Alfred is quite the old school gentleman, and the only one around him to give advice…It’s cute🥹)

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Is not a chronic masturbator. Only really does it when he’s very pent up and agitated, or after he’s been around/seen you (ref: D). His loads are pretty normal.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Clothing (?) - Idk if this is a kink, but seeing you in a nice outfit gives him a kick. He definitely likes clothed sex.

Voyeurism - Mentioned in D

Praise kink - He’ll probably never admit it, but he likes hearing how he makes you feel, especially when your relationship is new! He’s inexperienced so he likes the reinforcement.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

A bedroom, or any closed room, preferably. The *only* time he’s willing to shower without Alfred telling him to is when you say you’ll go with him /hj

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

A combination of the little things. He’s definitely attracted to energy, but on the physical side seeing you in a nice outfit gets him going. Like, imagine getting ready for a gala…He’d spend hours watching you get ready, just in awe of how ethereal you look. Touching him, specifically when it’s not inherently sexual - Running your hands on his torso, arms, or the back of his neck to check his injuries or wipe off his makeup. It’s a way of seeing him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurting you, so no kind of BDSM. The regular things like scatplay/pissplay/bodily fluids. Calling him ‘Daddy’… Absolutely not.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

A CERTIFIED MUNCH. I’m talking that video of James Brown sweating, okay?🙈 He loves to pleasure you, and that means spending hours between your thighs, exploring every inch of your folds. Loves spreading your thighs apart, tracing circles on them as he makes you squirm and you hold onto his hair. He wouldn’t say no to a blowjob once in a while (Cumming in your mouth is his guilty pleasure), but definitely prefers giving. Can make you cum from oral alone.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

A mix of both! It’s always sensual, but sometimes he loses control and will get a bit rough, but it’s underpinned by his desperation and want for release.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t mind them, but prefers when you have 100% of each others’ attention. Quickies in the Batcave definitely hit different, though ;)

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Not much, imo. Outside of having sex in the Batcave he likes to keep his lives separate, especially as he’s from such a well-respected family. Anything in public would be a PR nightmare and he’d rather not.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

The first time, he definitely cums quickly. He’s a little ashamed but it’s kinda flattering. After that, he’s got good stamina - he could probably do three rounds - but it’s dependent on how he’s feeling at the time. He doesn’t sleep much so downtime can be between 5 mins to hours if he wants another session.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own toys, but would secretly love it if you did. Likes watching you use a vibrator - especially when you don’t know he’s watching).

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s not a tease, tbh. His hands might linger in certain areas for longer than normal, when he’s in the mood, but other than that there’s not much.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He switches between loud and quiet! When he enters you, he always starts off with little whimpers and grunts, his sounds coming from behind his clenched teeth. As his pace quickens and he cums, he gets louder, with desperate moans and pants coming from deep with his chest. His volume level is at least a 6.5/10, not loud enough to be heard from another room. It’s the same when he masturbates, and he always whispers a little ‘Shit…’ if he thinks he’s making too much noise.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

His contacts have recorded everything. I’ll leave it there.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Above average, but nothing crazy! It’s got more length than girth.

Soft - 4 inches (10cm)

Hard - 5.9 inches, almost 6 (14.9cm)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Average, if not a little lower. He’s human, after all, but his emotional state can get in the way of things. Once you’ve been together a while, it increases as he’s got a person to put to his desires.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn’t sleep. It’s rare, but sometimes his eyes might *just* fall shut for a few minutes or so after, but he’s pretty much awake beyond that. If you fall asleep quickly, he’ll watch you, or if not he��ll bring you a glass of water/a snack before disappearing again.

[watercloud7]

BATFAM PROMPT:

Feral Talon Dad Bruce Wayne AU

The bat kids are raised by a Cryptid zombie horror murder man who loves them very very much❤️

Bruce is sent to kill the Graysons by the court of Owls and kidnap their child to make him a Talon.

Dick witnesses the whole thing but because he’s so young in this AU like basically a toddler he’s terrified and when Bruce picks him up to take him back to the Owls Dick snuggles into him and sobs and screeches and he’s angry and confused and scared and tiny but This massive murder monster who killed his parents is the only comfort he has.

Dick is alone and he has no one. No one is coming to save him, no one is coming for him , his mama and daddy are gone and the only thing left is …. Whatever the hell this cryptid horror zombie is.

So Dick, takes his comfort where he can, which today comes in form of zombi does Bruce Wayne and that’s what it takes i guess.

Bruce breaks out of conditioning and vanishes into thin air with the kid. Only he doesn’t go back to the court.

Maybe this Bruce takes baby Grayson away and raises him as a feral murder baby.

They live secluded and away from anyone and anything. Maybe the mountains in Nanda parbat. They’re so discreet and good the league of assassins doesn’t even know their mountains are technically compromised.

Bruce raises Dick in complete secrecy. Literally like a wild child, Bruce occasionally travels to the town over to bring back toys and books and whatever he finds that he thinks would make Dick happy.

Dick sees and longs for peoples and connections and more. He loves Bruce but Bruce is basically like Ariel’s dad WORSE he’s basically mother gothel, he’s seen so many horrors and he’s so paranoid. He just wants his son to stay alive and away from any harm.

keeping Dixk locked away and safe from the Owls that mean him horrific torture and agony. Safe from the world, Safe with Daddy😭❤️.

SIGN LANGUAGE ENTHUSIAST BATFAM HEADCANON.

Bruce’s voice is … zombified and uncomfortable to use, so he teaches himself sign language and then teaches Dick. They invent their own dialect. Just for them😭

Dick gets big enough to want to see the world, to understand what happened, to find himself outside of his adopted eldritch Dad, and MAYBE! Make a damn friend like he’s been seeing in those picture books Bruce brings for him every week.

He “runs away” in a fit of teenage rebellion or whatever you wanna call it, after Dick gets caught sneaking into a village a couple kilometres from their Cosy little cave they like to call home.

Bruce is furious and terrified and he’s everything a scared father is after finding your kid missing from their room when they were supposed to be home hours ago.

Dick explodes in frustration and tears and off he goes.

He goes back to the beginning. To Gotham.

A half deadly Half sunshine all Feral Dick Grayson is roaming the world all alone when he stumbles across a considerably less feral

Less deadly Jason Todd.

Jay is an orphan and this weirdly affectionate clueless terror of a guy just imprinted on him

and won’t leave him alone.

I mean Scary bird boy is a stage 5 dumbass, zero bark, Zero bite 100% cuddles kinda guy.

(Seriously this dude has no concept of personal space and it’s bordering on infuriating) but Jason is like 99.9% sure he just saw him down crime alley snapping the resident rapists necks.

The men that call girls avoided and the police did isn’t care to arrest, so clearly bird boy is not a bad guy but he’s definitely not Harmless either.

Jason likes his style though.

Maybe the court of owls tries going after Jason or tries to kidnap Dick again.

Bruce finds them in the nick of time and slaughters every single one of the Owls once and for all.

Shenanigans ensue and they all bond.

Love love love. Bruce literally adopts him the minute he sees him.

Bruce and Dick teach Jay sign language.

Jason teaches Bruce and Dick how to read.

Jason loves his feral dad and brother.

MAYBE! Tim parents were Owls.

The rich wealthy elites of Gotham succumb to their nefarious ways in an ironic and cathartic end, survived by their heir Timothy Jackson Drake. Who up until now they had been grooming into becoming the next Owl man, he’s been trained to kill and torture and every other bad guy skills he needs to be their evil little successor.🫡

Bruce gets rid of them though.

WOMP WOMP.

Maybe after killing Timmy’s parents Bruce is just like…

Bruce: awwwwww this reminds me of how Dick’s surprise adoption went!

Tim:…. Bro you can’t just murder my parents and call this a surprise adoption.

Bruce: we can call this a kidnapping if you wanna keep it 💯 but either way you’re coming home with me

Tim: …. I ain’t even like em like that fr. Let me just pack a bag real quick.

The Drakes parenting was abhorrent so after Bruce kidnaps him ,Tim is viciously violent at first but after Bruce shows Tim patience and kindness.

Tim develops Stockholm syndrome like instantly and just latches onto Bruce like it’s the first instance of true love and care he’s ever felt.

Jason is actually the most normal and well

adjusted out of his Psychotic family. Ironically he’s the only one out of all of them that hasn’t killed someone lol.

Tim latches on violently to Dick & Jason, it’s adorable and scary and very creepy in a wholesome way. Tim absorbs any kind of attention like a sponge and has separation anxiety. He likes to watch them sleep and follow them every where they go like a puppy, only he does it in the shadows and takes candid pictures of them he collects religiously.

He’s a complete weirdo.

Dick finds him Absolutely delightful, he wants to gobble him all up and cuddle at every opportunity, he enables all Of his bad habits and Jason does his best to damage control and encourage Tim to dabble in more healthy hobbies and ways of showing affection but ultimately Dick Grayson remains undefeated as a bad influence.

Dick is a good big brother, so obviously he’s gotta participate in his baby brothers love language so Timmy can feel seen and appreciated.

So now Jason has TWO stalkers shadowing him everywhere he goes. 3 when Bruce is feeling sentimental.

Jason tolerates his families psychotic and feral behaviour because he loves them more then life itself and if anyone else said anything like that about them he’d snap their necks.

Jason shows his affection in normal ways like beating up peoples trying to start a fight with his brothers and cooking for them because they can’t cook to save their lives.

Sometimes Jason will wonder on how exactly Dixk survived all those years in that cave with an immortal Bruce who doesn’t need to eat.

(Bruce would catch wild animals and Dixk

Would eat the meat raw, sometimes he’d hold his blood soaked hand full of flesh out wanting to share with dad, but Bruce would just drag Dick closer to him and nudge him to keep eating his dinner)

Jason feels bad and bakes him sugary monstrosities included but not limited too:

Oreo chocolate chip maple soaked marshmallow pancakes.

Sour candy lucky charm jam filled donuts.

Triple Chocolate Nutella and peanut butter Reese cookies.

Jason is appropriately horrified at what he’s created every time.

But Dick tasted sugar for the first time and doesn’t know how to act.

The kids are living their best lives but Bruce Is SPIRALLING.

The more kids Bruce acquires the more stressed he gets.

There’s a really angsty scene where Bruce breaks down holding onto his kids and crying. He’s not a monster, he just wants these kids to be safe. He doesn’t wanna kill anymore, he doesn’t wanna hurt things anymore.

He wants to go home with his babies.

He wants to take all of them back to their busted creepy cave in nanda parbat.

But Dickie Isn’t a baby anymore, he wants his family close but he also wants MORE, he wants to be around people he wants to discover the world. Jason was born and raised in Gotham and Bruce can’t in good conscience rip his life apart like that.

And then there’s Timmy. Honestly the Tim is this AU is an unhinged obsessive gremlin, he just goes wherever his family wants to go, nothing else really matters to him but them.

And so Bruce decides to stay in Gotham and hides them all in an abandoned building. It’s kind of like a nest.

Bruce stashes his babies in a Makeshift safe house until he can figure out a way to make all this work.

Maybe Alfred finds their weird little makeshift Family when he stumbles into their safe house and manages not to get immediately killed.

Alfred is VERY worried about the state in which these kids are living.

He vows to lure them and their Dad to a safer better living arrangement.

Maybe Bruce gets severely hurt and the kids kidnap Alfred to patch Bruce up.

Alfred is appropriately horrified at the undead creature growling and hissing while he treats their mortally terminal wounds, but keeps as much composure as an ex-military general would about it.

Bruce like totally imprints on Alfred And like a cat, he drags each and every one of his kids into Alfred life for him to babysit and look after while Bruce goes out to do whatever zombie dads do.

Alfred has no choice in the matter and has effectively acquired spontaneous grandkids and a son.

Bruce: daddy?

Alfred: …. Boy do I look like-⁉️

They move in with Alfred basically over night.

Damian is either created Through the league of assassins who stole the courts strongest talon’s DNA (Bruce’s DNA) to recreate it. Or any other way I guess I donno? Maybe Talia and Bruce got jiggy with It at one point when they were in those mountains. PFFFF LOL GIVE ME IDEAS.

Gonna run with the first idea ?

Damian is created in a lab, Maybe the Drakes latest project was too recreate their greatest success which had been Talon!Bruce.

Tim revisits his parents lab randomly and discovers this. An abandoned lab and abandoned cryogenic chamber containing a baby.

Tim grabs the kids and runs back home.

Jason is exasperated and Alfred panics a bit cause…. Huh?!?!

Jason: Seriously guys? We can’t afford Another surprise adoption right now.

Alfred: do you mean a “kidnapping”

Jason: don’t be mean! It’s their love language 😡

Alfred: wonderful… is it safe to assume I’ll be raising yet another grandchild?

Jason: that’s the spirit, anyway we gotta find a much bigger apartment than this, it’s getting crowded.

Alfred: Ah, my sincerest apologies for the inconvenience caused by my oversight. It seems I should have anticipated my being abducted by a feral street urchin and his entourage of lethal pets. Quite the oversight on my part, I’ll begin apartment hunting right away sir.

Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian: *living their best life while Alfred tries to wrangle them out of shenanigans*

Anyways They take Damian in and he’s just as feral and eldritch horror as his daddy. He’s got his big brother’s trademark behaviours too!

Tim’s severely anti social mess , Dick’s creepy uncanny valley nature and Jason’s love for baking!

It’s so sweet how much he takes after his sibling and Bruce couldn’t be more proud of his litter of horror.

Alfred is honestly such a trooper through all this, salute the GOAT.

I wrote this on a whim! If y’all wanna hear more about this AU, if you want it written, let me know!

[superblysubpar]

masterlist | the music

4.2k words | This is an 18+ NSFW series

epilogue warnings: see that fun little e word? yeah you're missing a whole bunch, and I strongly encourage you to head to the masterlist linked above and read their story! I had fun writing it (most days), I hope you have fun reading it | there's a hint to a lovely little thing @rebelfell wrote for Eddie on Halloween Party night and I am not only incredibly touched that something I wrote inspired her to write, but I am grateful for the blessing to leave his story open for more exploration using her story 💛 | mentions of the holiday Christmas being celebrated by reader | minor descriptions of PIV smut, but ultimately it's some good old fade to black movie shit

Steve’s hands cup the back of your head, tilting you open for him as he ducks down, mouth hovering above yours as he speaks like you’re the only two people in the world. 

“But right now? Right now I’m gonna kiss you.”

“Which bad 90s rom com you steal that one out of, Harrington?” You whisper against his lips. 

Steve smiles, gaze tracing the curve of your lips then meeting yours as he takes a deep breath. 

“You liked it.” 

And maybe the marquee lights twinkle above you a little brighter as you finally meet in a kiss. Maybe snowflakes start drifting down from the clouds lazily, covering everything in a fresh start right at the moment his hands wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer, your back arching from the passion of his kiss. Maybe a terrible top forty song blares out of someone’s car as it drives past, your foot popping off the pavement a little when he pulls away for a breath only to lean and kiss you deeper and slower. 

The universe can’t guarantee anything for you and Steve, but it is giving you a chance. There is nothing, not even love, that can keep away the inevitable struggle, heartbreak, or loss life will be sure to throw at you. Which is scary, but doing it together, his hand in yours, makes it less so. Yes, it won’t always be easy, but the hard work you’ll both put in when it isn’t, means it’s real. There is no one other than yourselves who can decide if your relationship could be like the movies. The two of you are the only ones that can calculate if there’s still time for a happy ending in your story. Only Steve and you can be certain that the fear of heartbreak or pain is worth taking the risk, because if you don’t, if you let the chance slip away, you’ll never know if one day you could have called it love. 

Eddie’s nose presses into your navel, fingers adjusting on your hips as you squirm. 

“Eddie!”

“Hold still!” He laughs, your green plastic shamrock hanging from your neck knocks against his forehead as his arms move to wrap around the back of your thighs. 

“We’re on the other side!” Robin screams into her phone. A boy with a jug full of nauseating lime colored liquid brushes up against her, smiling with green tinged lips. She wrinkles her nose as he hiccups, liquor and kool-aid sloshing from the jug out onto the sidewalk and narrowly missing her shoes. 

“I can see-Fuck!” You shout, arm raising to wave but body hunching, falling over Eddie’s head as he adjusts and almost drops you. 

Fingers grip his curls at the sudden balance issues, eliciting a quiet “Ow,” from him and a soft “Sorry,” from you. 

Robin huffs into the phone, craning her neck and hand hovering behind your back like she alone could prevent Eddie dropping you over the railing and into the river. “I’m wearing green - well light green!”

Eddie snorts a laugh into your hip as he pushes you higher, your fingers wrap around the cement and you pull yourself up, waving your arms wildly to bring attention to your group as Eddie holds your lower half up, bracing his back against the railing.  

Just on the other side of the bridge, you see him clinging to a light pole, body slowly circling it, head swiveling in all directions with the phone pressed to his ear. His hair has gotten darker from the lack of sun, longer too, and it curls slightly behind his ears and at the nape of his neck, blowing in the light breeze. 

When he makes his final turn, he sees you as your arms drop. His grin widens, bright even from this far. You watch his mouth move as he speaks into the phone without taking his eyes off of you. 

Robin calls up, rolling her eyes, “He says you’re really pretty.”

Your head throws back in a deep laugh, the movement causing Eddie to panic and adjust his hands holding your legs and you both topple to the ground, taking Robin with you as your leg bangs against the cement railing at just the right angle, hard.

The people of Chicago simply walk around the three of you, as you lay on the cold and dirty sidewalk moaning. 

“Your foot is in my spleen Edward, get off,” Robin whines, shoving at his shoulders.

“Don’t get mad at me, I’m not the one who decided to fall!” He rolls, but freezes as you wince.

You sit up, rubbing at your knee, closing your eyes with a choked off whimper, willing the tears that want to spring out from the sharp pain away. 

“Shit, uh, ice? I can go see if someone has ice?” Robin asks, eyes wide and blinking down at you when you open yours.

Eddie’s nose scrunches, head tilting as he asks, “Why would anyone have ice just walking around?”

“I don’t know, it’s St. Patrick’s Day, people need it for their drinks! Oh! I can call Nancy, she’s still sleeping, but-”

“Robin,” you laugh, cutting her off, “I’m fine. Just give me a sec.”

As you press your palms to the cement and brace yourself to stand, you wince again and his voice is suddenly right in front of you.

“Hey, hey, hey, stop.” 

Looking up, Steve is crouching down, hands reaching toward your leg. Light jeans and a deep, hunter green sweatshirt revealed to you under his now open gray peacoat. Dark strands of hair fall over his forehead, slightly covering the lines of worry deepening as he frowns at your knee. Something inside your chest swells, like thousands of butterflies are waking up and migrating to your stomach and causing dumb and unfiltered words to fall out of your mouth. 

“Do you have a band-aid? I think I scraped my knee falling for you.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, eyes bright, the sweater making the moss in them outshine the brown as he looks at you with amusement. Robin and Eddie boo in tandem behind your shoulders.

Steve’s hand curls around your ankle, gold ring on his middle finger glinting as his thumb brushes the skin under your pant leg as he shakes his head, “Honey, I’m gone for two days and look at you. How am I gonna be able to leave for three months?”

“They said yes?!” Forgetting your pain, you lean forward, hands grabbing his cheeks as he nods, bottom lip fitting between yours as he kisses you with a sigh. 

Steve's hand curls around your neck, thumb sliding down along your jaw as he kisses you like you are very much not in public, your stomach swooping as his tongue traces the curve of your top lip. 

“You're both sick,” Eddie gags.

“May I remind you,” Robin starts as Steve and you part, breathless, his eyes rolling and mouth fighting a smile as she keeps going, “That the sidewalk is probably covered in piss and puke and who knows what else and we are not that far from the spot where Dave Matthews literally dumped shi-”

“We know!” The three of you call out in tandem, interrupting the story you all could recite with the same inflections and punchlines she does. 

“Steve, I'm so happy for you. Those kids are gonna have the best time,” speaking quietly to him, your fingers curl the hair around his ear that's turning pink and he dips his head, bashful. 

“I hope so. I think it's cool that these players are gonna take breaks in their schedule and donate their time to teach them. I mean, they're gonna get experiences and lessons that they would never have gotten if not for this program and…sorry.” He shakes his head, biting back his excitement.

You lift his chin and give him another soft, and chaste kiss. The thundering of your heartbeat in your ears is worse than it’s ever been, the words sit ready on your tongue, but just don't come out. 

His eyes bounce between yours, like he’s waiting, before he finally looks down, clearing his throat as he gestures to your knee. “Can I?”

Feeling warm from the missed moment and under his concern, all you can do is nod silently. Steve’s thumbs slide over the sides of your kneecap, pressing gently and you wince. He tilts his head, fingers moving up to prod at the spot again and you grab his wrist with a whimper. 

“Well, I think bar hopping all day is out of the question,” Steve smiles sadly at you, “I think we should get some ice and heat on it. Prop it up.”

“But-” you start to protest and Robin interrupts.

“Already called an Uber, we can head to Nance and I's, have a chill day and then head to Murray's later tonight like originally planned.”

Sighing because you know you'll never win against the two of them teamed up, you nod. Steve’s arm curls around your waist as he helps you stand, both of you looking around with a frown.

“Where's Eddie?” You ask, head swiveling. 

Robin shrugs, gesturing behind you. “I don't know, he just took off running across the bridge when he got this look on his face. He was gone before I could ask.” She punches Steve’s shoulder, smiling, “Congrats Dingus.”

He smiles and lets you go, fingers slipping from your side as his arms wrap around her in a tight hug. As they squeeze each other, you take the opportunity to glance up at the circular, familiar towers. The stream of green clad people entering and exiting the House of Blues and you smile to yourself, thinking about the first time you were here and how far you’ve all come in just a year. 

Eddie rounds the corner, coming off the bridge then. His hands shoved in his leather jacket’s pockets, dirty sneaker dragging and kicking a pebble as he shakes his head, shoulders dropping in disappointment. 

“What’s the matter, tough guy?” You pout, tilting your head.

He waves it away, shrugging, “Nothing,” and your eyes narrow as he claps Steve on the shoulder, “Congrats, man.”

“Thanks.” They both hit each other’s shoulders in a hug and you make eye contact with Eddie over Steve’s shoulder, arms crossing and eyebrows raised at him. 

He rolls his eyes, knowing you know it isn’t nothing and he will not be able to run from you. 

“Uber’s here!” 

Steve’s nose buries itself deeper into the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling even with deep breaths. You brush the hair from his forehead and kiss his temple. 

Smiling against his skin, you look up to see Eddie staring at the two of you. A deep frown pulls his lips down, his thumbs dragging against the label of the beer in his hands, shredding it slowly. 

“Sorry,” you whisper, hoping the sudden movement of your chest and noise of your voice doesn’t wake Steve. “I just missed him. I know the PDA is gross.”

“Hmm?” Eddie hums, like he didn’t really hear you, blinking at you confused. 

Gesturing with your free arm to him you explain, “You look kind of upset about our cuddling. And you were all grumpy at the river.”

He was fairly silent during the ride to Nancy and Robin’s, letting you prop your leg up on his thighs with your back against Steve’s chest as he stared out the window. Robin disappeared into their bedroom an hour ago, claiming to go wake Nancy who’d gotten in after midnight from chasing a story on the east coast, but you’re certain she’s asleep next to her. Steve had helped you to the couch, gingerly rolling your jeans up, mumbling his diagnosis around a wince at the sight of your swollen knee. He set you up with ice and a pillow, and you couldn’t blame him for also falling asleep after his busy weekend of meetings and flights. 

And Eddie was silent through it all, the only sound in the apartment being Charlie running around on screen trying to catch a Leprechaun in an episode of It’s Always Sunny. He just shakes his head, avoiding the question. 

“Come on Eddie, spill the beans. Open the door.” Prodding him with a smile and a small shrug of your shoulders. 

He smiles around a sip of beer, but shakes his head again. Eddie stands, punching the mantle lightly, before he turns and looks at Steve, then you as he blurts, “How’d you do it?”

Your brows pinch together as you question, “How’d I do what?”

“Fall in love again after…after being so hurt. What was the first step?”

His question surprises you, palms sweating as your skin prickles from a familiar burn. Glancing down at Steve before you stumble over a response, “We’re not…I’m not…I haven’t…”

Eddie gives you a look of disbelief, like you’re really trying to lie to him and he sits down on your other side. His eyebrows furrow under his bangs as he looks out the window seeming to be looking at something much further away.

“Okay, fine, easier question. Do you believe in soul mates?”

“What?” Blinking at him and wondering where he is going with all of this, your body squirming under the weight of Steve growing heavier. 

Eddie waves his hand around, searching for the words. “You know destiny. Help from the universe. A plan for everything. Fate and shit.”

Cocking your head to the side, you ponder his words. Steve’s arm sits curled around your waist and a soft snore leaves him, breath hitting your chest and you smile. “Yeah, I think I do. Never used to…but I don’t know. I think it’s nice to believe in those kinds of things sometimes.”

Eddie nods, the last of the label ripping and he swallows harshly before looking back up at you. His big, brown eyes blink at you seriously, full of more hope than you’ve ever seen in a person before. 

“Do you think you’re not supposed to meet them until you get your shit together? Like you’re meant to meet them at the right time? And how do you know it’s the right time? What if the right time passes you by?”

“I think,” you start, careful with your words as they come out. Your fingers brush through Steve’s hair carefully, whispering your answer as you stare at his cheek, “I think that sure, when you know, you know about someone. But that doesn’t mean admitting it to yourself, or anyone else for that matter, is easy. And maybe there is a plan, a person for everyone, but it’s up to you to decide when the time is right. Because,” you laugh quietly and Steve adjusts against you, his legs sandwiching your thigh and you look at Eddie, “Your shit is never gonna be together without that person, if they really are the one, right? Because wouldn’t your life not be perfect, whatever that means…or not on the right track, without them? Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah,” he smiles sadly at his bottle, brows furrowing even deeper, “Yeah it does. Thanks.”

He looks at Steve and then back at you, shaking his head. “Sweetheart, you really haven’t told him?”

Swallowing loudly, your heartbeat picks up as your mouth parts to blurt out an excuse. Eddie only raises his empty beer bottle with a smirk, and stands, leaving you alone with Steve. 

It’s just not that simple. 

You’ve wanted to say it so many times over the last year, but the words never come out. Despite the work you’ve put in with yourself and your relationship, despite knowing it’s better to say it than spend your life wondering what if, saying that is still scary. 

Love is a powerful emotion and word not to be thrown around, but you also know the words are never just going to come out on their own. You will have to actively decide to say them, to take the leap into the unknown and leave your heart open even more for Steve. 

“Oh no,” Robin laughs around a moan. 

Nancy and your shot glasses hit the table, tart lime releasing over your tongue to counter some of the sting of the tequila flowing down your throat. Robin shakes her head and gestures to the stage and a cackling laugh leaves you as Steve winks at the table, tossing the microphone in the air from his spot waiting on deck for karaoke. 

“Oh, god, we need more tequila,” Nancy laughs, fingers covering her smile as she hiccups. 

Robin points at her. “No more tequila.”

“But, babe, this is going to be bad,” Nancy whines, “You’ve heard him-”

“Oh no.” You bury your head in your arms on the sticky table as the name of his song choice flashes on the screen. 

Robin starts laughing uncontrollably and Steve clears his throat, looking directly at you where you peek out from behind your hands. “This is for you baby.” He points to you as the beginning notes of Rocketman by Elton John begin to drift from the speakers and the crowd cheers and whistles. 

“Here, you’re gonna need this when he hits the falsetto,” Eddie hands you a beer, distributing more drinks around the table, shaking his head. 

You can’t help but have a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt as Steve sings to you, dramatic facial expressions and pressing his hand to his chest, winking at you as he declares he’s a rocket man. You can’t help but cheer, and feel hot under his stare, can’t help but think about saying those words right then and there, what if you just screamed them across the bar for everyone to hear. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie sputters on his beer next to you. 

“What?” You turn, confused, worried you actually did blurt them out. 

“She’s…she’s here. I thought I saw her at the river, that’s where I went, and l lost her, and she’s here. She’s…”

“Who, what?” You step closer to him, leaning in and he spins your shoulders and points to a girl at the bar.

“I met her at that disastrous Halloween party a year ago and she was perfect and awesome and you and Steve had to go and pretend like you weren’t in love and fuck it all up.”

“We weren’t-”

“Please, who shows up in a couples costume accidentally. Boy loved you then and he loves you now. But none of that matters because she’s here.” His cheeks are pink, staring at her and gulping. “That’s a sign right? What do I do?”

“Go get her.” You shove his shoulder with a smile and his eyes widen, but he nods, taking a step towards the bar. 

He pauses, and you wonder if it’s his moment, his what if, his leap. You smile as he squares his shoulders and keeps going, stopping in front of the girl who looks at him surprised. She smiles as he extends his hand, ears red and talking nonstop. She takes it, shaking it and nodding. 

Steve is bowing to cheering from Robin and Nancy as he approaches the table and Murray clears his throat in the microphone. 

“Well, uh, that sure was somethin’ huh?” He frowns at Steve and deadpans to the crowd, “We’re gonna take a break now.”

You hide your laughter into the beer as Steve drums on the table, smiling at you, leaning in close. Lips brushing over your ear as he teases, “I cannot believe you have a thing for Elton John.”

Your head throws back in a laugh as he kisses under your ear, his smile sticking to your skin as you nod. “You got me, Harrington.”

Steve and you stand close together and he smiles at something over your shoulder and clears his throat, “Hey, um, how’s your knee? Feel like sitting for a little?”

His fingers tangle with yours, his voice soft, and something in you melts under his gaze as you nod.

“Great,” he kisses you lightly, pulling away and guiding you across the room, coming to a stop in front of the vintage photo booth. “I think we should try this again.”

As he pulls the red curtain back and sits, this time, you don’t hesitate when he pats his thigh. Your heart hammers inside of your chest, the metal armor around it clatters to the floor with one final knock. 

Steve’s arms wrap around your waist easily, fingers slipping together as he clears his throat and leans forward, looking at you as he asks with a smile, “Ready?”

In that moment, you wish there was a photobooth to capture every moment of the last year - every memory. 

You nod, the machine whirring to life as you smile at each other for the first photo. As the flash happens, Steve lets out a shaky breath, your hands moving up to his jaw without really thinking about it. Your fingertips trace over his face, eyebrows, his nose, the pair of freckles on his cheek and his cupid’s bow as his hands squeeze up your waist and sides. 

You wish there had been a camera when Steve surprised you with dinner that first week together. Your favorite food, a bottle of wine, and then he slow danced with you to ‘It Had To Be You’ in his living room. You could have said it then, a week of barely dating, but it felt so easy. 

Steve leans into your touch as the second flash happens. You twist in his lap, breath coming sharper as you straddle him, your nose brushing up his as you smile. 

If only there had been a camera when Steve came over to your apartment and found you crying over your phone screen, the animal shelter page was brought up and he went with you the next day. Why didn’t you blurt it out then, when back at his place, he was on all fours, a small black lab’s head tilted at him curiously. Steve held a plush sword and whispered in a terrible voice “Your name is Inigo Montoya, I killed your father, I’m prepared to die,” and pretended to be impaled by the sword when the rescued puppy pounced on him. 

Steve’s hand moves up your spine slowly, his other cupping your jaw as your lips just brush when the third flash goes off. 

If you’re being honest with yourself, it’s been an active fight to not say those three little words to him since Christmas. You had a fight, and of course it was about money. How you had seen the package with European stamps and he said it was a present for you and you yelled about how he can’t just buy expensive things because he can and what were you supposed to do, how were you supposed to get him a gift of equal value. That’s when he ripped open the brown shipping package, lifting out of packing peanuts, a glass blue dish - just like the one that shattered. He held it carefully, shaking his head, apologizing for breaking the original, for knowing that he couldn’t replace it, but he searched and searched and found this one. Nobody had a camera, and you didn’t say it, because that’s when you knew. That’s when it got really scary and really real. 

Steve’s lips press to yours as the fourth flash happens, your stomach dropping like a roller coaster as his breath exhales into your inhale. 

Easier than breathing. 

“Will you move in with me?”

“I love you.”

Both questions asked in sync and you blink, shocked. Steve keeps going, eyes closed as he speaks, “I know it’s a big step, but I think we’re ready and…”

“Yes.”

“Wait, what did you say?”

Steve’s eyes shoot open, your response and his question leaving you both at the same time again. 

Your eyes are full of tears, laughing as you cup his cheeks and exhale, repeating the words. 

“I love you.”

The fifth flash goes off as Steve smiles, thumb holding your chin as he gulps around the words. “I love you too.”

Steve’s fingers fumble with his keys, refusing to separate his lips from yours until you’re speaking into them, an ache in your gut as your fingers scratch at the back of his head.

“Baby, hurry.”

He whimpers into your lips, “Not fair.”

It’s a mess of keys hitting the floor and shoes and coats ripped off, easy laughter as he attacks your neck with hot presses of his lips, frantic as he speaks around them, “Fast enough for you, huh?”

“Steve,” you stutter over your laugh, toes curling against the carpet as he sucks on that spot he found just below your ear.  

He’s smug, speaking into your neck as his hands on your hips guide you backwards until your knees hit his bed. He gasps out a desperate plea as you both fall. 

“Say it again.”

Your fingers curl the hair around his ears, swallowed whole by the forest in his eyes, you want to be buried there as you raise your head from the sheets. 

“I.” A kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

“Love.” He exhales as your lips skim over his jaw. 

“You.” Lips dragging over the two moles on his neck and he melts against you. 

He lifts himself, palms pressed to the mattress next to your head, saying it right back like it’s a promise. 

“I love you.”

He unbuckles your jeans, carefully removing them. Kissing your ankle, your knee, and then the crease of your thigh as he murmurs into your skin, “I love how you slap my shoulder when the colors in a sunset change. And that you mouth along the words to your favorite movies.”

His fingers drag up your shirt, lips and nose grazing up your stomach as you squirm beneath him. 

“I love the way you dance in the kitchen as you burn anything you touch and sing so off key into your shampoo bottle in the shower.”

He keeps going, telling you every little thing he’s grown to love about you, only stopping when you start to interrupt him and do the same. Soft touches and lingering kisses between words whispered to each other that replace your breaths, because it’s not easier than doing so, it’s what gives you the ability to be able to. 

When his hand flexes on your waist, a slow thrust in and your back arches, his head dips into your neck and he pauses his movements. Steve’s nose drags along the gold chain that rests between your collarbones. He props himself up, free hand grazing up your side as your hips roll once slowly, and he lifts the little gold ‘S’ hanging from it. 

“Mine,” he whispers.

You nod, body shivering with the word and the gentle tug he gives the necklace. 

“Yours.”

Lips meet desperately, as your bodies melt together, declarations of devotion spoken between sweet kisses and praise. Steve’s fingers lace with yours as you both climb higher and higher. Gripping each other’s hands, pushed above your head and into the mattress, as planets align, euphoria breaks over you like waves crashing, flames burning hotter, stars exploding, and you finally meet each other where you’ve always been meant to - calling it love. 

WCIL Taglist: @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @johnricharddeacy @freezaz123 @selfdeprecatingnerd @big-ope-vibes @manda-panda-monium @hellkaisersangel @yogizzz @soulmatecashton @happytimeunicorns @mandyjo8719 @lunarxeclipse @buckleylips @beckkthewreck @differentdeputyfishpaper @supardupar @micheledawn1975 @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sagelittleplace @totally-bogus-timelady @steves-babysitter @fallinginlovewithqueue @aftermidnightwriting @omgshesinsane @pootcullen @definitionwanderlust @nostalgiafool @palmtreesx3 @scoopshxrrington @live-the-fangirl-life @eddiesguitarskills @mannstarkey @keepingitlokiii @silkholland @redbarn1995

[cuteitgirlinspos]

౨ৎ How to romanticize this school year 🎀

I know school might be tiring , boring , or even scary , so here are some ways to romanticize this school year , next school year , and all the future school years to come

౨ৎ Stretch in the morning and drink water , usually when we wake up for school most of us don’t wanna get out of our bed and are extremely tired or drained out due to either waking up early or not getting enough sleep from last night 🎀 , so it is very important to stretch doing some poses you already know or watch videos on YouTube that are abt 5 - 10 mins depending on how much time u have , drinking water is also good for your skin and fastens your metabolism it will also hydrate you in the morning which can lessen how tired you were when you woke up . 🧚🏽‍♀️

౨ৎ sleep early , I know this might be very hard for some people because of the amount of things that they have to do , but you can limit the amount of time u take to do those things and take naps or sleep around 8 - 10 MAX , sleeping around these times are more healthy than sleeping around 12 pm or 3 am in the morning , your body needs the most rest it can get to keep it going 🎀

౨ৎ Please be yourself in school , many people tend to want to fit in and change themselves bc of what other people think , what their friend group says , or even how the internet influenced them to behave , you don’t have to change your behavior / personality just to fit in a group / area , real friends / loved ones will love you the way you are 💗🎀 .

౨ৎ Don’t disrespect teachers for no reason at all please 😭😭 , many teachers don’t get paid enough for dealing with kids all day long , make sure you’re being respectful to them and being nice / positive , one way you can do that is by simply greeting them good morning everyday or saying bye to them everyday .

౨ৎ PLEASE try on your grade , obsessing over your grade isn’t good either you don’t have to be sad / mad at yourself bc you didn’t get a 100% remember that everyone isn’t perfect , although you should try and bump your grades or try to be better at the subject you’re struggling with , when teachers notice you try your best in class they most likely bump your grade or try to give u extra credit even if you got a low grade . 🎀

౨ৎ Don’t start drama for no reason , trust me it’s not worth it ; you can get in trouble and that can be draining always try and be positive if someone else is being negative , rude , or annoying ; ignore them or don’t talk to them ; don’t try to engage with bad conversations with them to also get YOU in trouble , if you’re a good student and you barley get in trouble your teachers might let you go or not pay attention to it the first or 2nd time u get in trouble . 🤗

౨ৎ I can not stretch this enough , PLEASE organize your things , being organized can make school less stressful for you since you know where all your things are ! it’s much more easier than stressing when you need a notebook / paper / or an assignment and you can’t find it , an app that can help you be organized is notion ; using notion can track your to do’s like if you finished an assignment , need help with something , and be organized in general 🎀 .

౨ৎ Don’t be nasty , most people like me don’t like to hang around people who smell bad or do disgusting things , stick to a scent that smells good ; you don’t need a bunch of perfume sprayed all over you unless you have 2 or more perfumes mixed together that smells heavenly 😋 , PLEASE use deodorant and brush your teeth TWICE a day that way you can be clean and healthy , also take a shower everyday there’s no point of missing a shower be clean . 🎀

[theycallmemarcy]

tim laflour dating headcanons

tim laflour x reader

warnings: none

a/n: after not writing for some time, i wanted to upload something short ! not proofread, enjoy !

- he asked you out right after winning a hockey game !

“i was just wondering um, if you would maybe want to have dinner with me?” he said while touching the back of his neck, looking nervous. “we just won the game so—“

“are you asking me out on a date tim?” he chuckled “no i mean—umm yeah, yeah i’m asking you out on a date” you giggled at that.

“i’ll meet you outside tim, your pick !” he went rushing back in to change quickly while blushing like a little kid.

- it was a really cute date in this lovely little mexican place, it was his favourite.

- he walked you back home where he kissed you goodbye, softly not wanting to seem eager, which you gladly accepted

- after that you always go to all of his games, which he loves since he doesn’t act as violent when you’re around (which his teammates are grateful for)

- he gave you his spare jersey to wear to his games, so that everyone can see you’re his

- you share earbuds on your way to class

- he greets you he comes up behind you he grabs your waist and pecks your neck

- calls you babe, all.the.time. it may be basic, he still loves it

- you guys go rollerblading everywhere !! he always holds your hand, his reasoning for this is just in case any of you two fall, so you fall together, it would be embarrassing if any of you fall alone, so he has an excuse to hold your hand !

- takes up the whole bed, like a starfish, if you want space you’ll have to fight for it, same thing with bedsheets, hell hoard them in his sleep (you’ve ended up waking him up and scolding him several times)

“but i’m asleep it isn’t even my fault!” “we’ll see about that tim” you say, teasing him.

- which he makes up for by kissing you, a lot.

- about kissing, he’s so obsessed with you and kissing you 25/8

- middle of class ? “just a quick peck babe”

- after a game ? he’ll kiss the soul out of you

- getting a new piercing ? “if you kiss me it’s less scary”

- he has no limit, he loves you too much

- always let’s you have the first bite of food, no matter the ocasion, and also the last

- you guys have sleepovers all the time ! it always involves some bad slasher from the 80’s and snacks, and sometimes darryl

- when you stay over you always wear his jersey (which makes him very shy)

- he doesn’t care if it’s extremely hot, he will cuddle you to sleep always

- he loves being the big spoon, but most of the time you end up holding him (he loves being in your arms)

- records cd’s and cassettes for you to listen to !

[mytaiyakeylover]

scary stares.

synopsis: his gaze is penetrating, like that of a predator ready to pounce on its prey, and you can't help but wonder at what point you managed to anger the gang leader.

pairing: mikey x gn!reader

a/n: i don’t even know how my sleep deprived brain came up with this. was watching some random horror movie at 3 am yesterday and this is what happened😳 part 2?

warnings: just the reader freaking out and mikey being his usual oblivious self. guess some hints of angst too. reader misunderstands mikey, which isn’t that weird.

word count: 1.3k

series masterlist | previous | next

It’s unnerving. The way he keeps staring at you. Black, abyssal eyes penetrate your soul, making you feel exposed — naked even. You don’t know what he wants — what he’s expecting from you.

You feel small under his gaze; like a mouse. It doesn’t seem to bother him whatsoever, dead eyes simply watching you from the other side of the classroom, not paying any mind to what the teacher is saying. Usually you would have at least tried to pay attention — which you are — but the blond boy sitting at the back of the classroom is staring so intently, you can practically feel his eyes lingering on your vulnerable figure.

He doesn’t break eye contact when you look in his direction, and you find yourself shrinking. Perhaps you’re overreacting. One of your friends had once told you that he probably likes you, but you’re not too sure. Not when he keeps looking at you in a similar way that a predator watches its prey. You rake through your brain, trying to remember at what exact instance you had managed to anger the gang leader, but find none.

It’s quite hard to pinpoint what exactly you must have done however, as neither of you had even as much as exchanged one word with each other. The teacher doesn’t make things easier for you as he starts putting students into groups for some project. By some miracle you and Sano just happen to get into the same one. But you try not to show the relief you feel when his tall friend — Ryuguji — also joins you.

They may be friends, but even you were observant enough to notice that the short boy was less intimidating with him. That Ryuguji more or less, had at least some control over the commander. It was also common knowledge that between the both, the taller one was always the more reserved and collected one.

“…So, uh,” you start, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly. “What exactly were we supposed to do?” You ask tentatively, still feeling quite intimidated by the shorter boy. Ryuguji lets out a barely audible sigh, but then smiles. You think he must be sensing your unease and is trying to make you feel more comfortable.

“Guess somebody must have zoned out, huh,” he states, a teasing smirk appearing on his lips, which urged you to let out an embarrassed laugh. “Guess so,” you mumble, smiling faintly as a soft pink hue dusts your cheeks.

The other boy doesn’t say anything, eyes vacant as he seems to be deep in thought. You’re not too sure of what he’s thinking about, but there is something in your gut telling you that you want to know. Still, the question remains unspoken, letting curiosity simply continue to eat at your sanity. Bits by bits; like a parasite.

It has always been a bad habit of yours. Sometimes you wish you had more courage. More courage to speak your thoughts. Perhaps then you wouldn’t have been here right now, feeling like this — so helpless and lonely. It's not that you don't enjoy being alone; in fact, you love it. However, there have always been moments when you wish you had done things differently.

You know you should ask. Should ask why he’s been staring at you for so long — in such a way. To clear things up. To save yourself from the growing anxiety. To protect your sanity.

Then someone clears their throat. It’s Ryuguji. You guess he must have noticed the tension between you and his friend. Sano still doesn't make any acknowledgment of either of you, and you can hear the dragon-tattooed boy sigh from your right.

“There is nothing much, we’re just supposed to answer these questions and then discuss them,” the tall boy explains, losing any hope he may have had previously for his commander. You can practically sense it by the apparent vein that has popped out above his right eyebrow.

A barely audible, “Oh,” leaves your lips at his words. Then you sit down, doing your best to avoid making eye contact with the other boy. He’s still staring, and you're not quite sure what to make out of it. A part of you hoped that it would at least be easier for you to understand what that gaze means. Unfortunately, instead of making things clearer, it only seems to confuse you further.

The closeness isn’t helping in the slightest, despite the desk separating the both of you. If anything, it only makes you more nervous. You try to break the tension by asking him questions here and there, whenever you get to a new question that you need to discuss. Sano never answers you however — never says anything at all, in fact, and Ryuguji looks truly fed up with his behavior.

Time passes. Ryuguji is speaking, but you only seem to hear the ticking of the clock, so all you do is nod. Nodding at him with a polite — and perhaps slightly awkward — smile whenever you catch his lips moving. Heart beating erratically in your rib cage as the oh so familiar irrational sense of fear and dread envelopes your senses.

The feeling leaves you confused as you had never experienced such emotions without any apparent reason. Communication was never a problem for you before. Despite occasionally overthinking things, it had never occurred unless it was due to something you had said that was foolish or poorly thought out. Your friends would sometimes tease you, claiming that you paid too much attention to trivial matters.

“(L/n)-san,” you hear Ryuguji’s voice calling out for you, pulling you out from your thoughts. His eyebrows are furrowed, a look of concern plastering his face. “Are you okay?”

Your eyes widen as you rush to come up with a response. "Of course," you say, realizing you had zoned out. The boy arches an eyebrow in response, dismissing your later stuttered apology with a wave.

A lump forms in your throat as you catch the pair of onyxes still very much concentrated on you. Your cheeks flare up at their intense look, but try not to acknowledge that fact. Instead you simply turn around, and continue on with the questions.

Minutes pass by and you feel cold sweaty trailing down your neck as they remain fixated on you. You try to form a coherent sentence whenever Ryuguji is asking you something, but they only come out as a stuttered mess. The boy is considerate enough to not comment on it however.

You feel a wave of relief flooding your system as the bell rings and the teacher announces the end of the lesson. However, it's only when your feet step out of the classroom that the feeling fully registers in your brain. Even then, you fail to notice the forgotten notebook on your former group member's desk.

Draken sweatdrops at how quickly you bolted out of the classroom, noticing the notebook you had accidentally left behind. He feels slightly guilty for the obvious discomfort you were displaying, fully aware that Mikey's weird demeanor must have caught you off guard. The short boy did look kind of creepy throughout the entire lesson.

He sighs, about to stand up and try to catch up to you, but a familiar voice stops him in his tracks. “Hey, Ken-chin?” There is a slightly dreamy lilt to it, and the addressed boy feels his brain short-circuit. He can’t help it, he’s never heard his friend speak in such a manner, like…ever.

“Don’t you think (Y/n)-chan is pretty?”

[ch3rryc4ndy]

Pretty When You Cry

Relationship - Haechan X Fem Reader

Genre - Smut and Angst

Summary - A bad breakup ends you up at your best friend's house crying but to your surprise, she wasn’t home. Her brother you’ve denied your feelings for since childhood makes you realize you never needed your ex in the first place.

Warnings - choking, unprotected sex, cheating (ex), and that’s pretty much it. Let me know if there’s anymore!

Masterlist

I rush to winters house as tears run down my cheeks. I hit my steering in anger, my first relationship and I got cheated on…

The worst thing is I would’ve never expected this from Kun, he was always an affectionate loving boyfriend, always made me the center of his world. I loved him at some point of the relationship. I feel rage rush through me as I think of how stupid I was. I should’ve listened to winter and even hyuck warned me about him, but even with two people telling me no I didn’t listen

I pull into winter's driveway as tears continue to stream down my face “winter” I yell as I walk in knowing their parents were on a trip “she isn’t her- what happened?” I hear hyuck say from the kitchen as he pokes his head out the corner, now walking towards me

“He cheated” I smile weakly trying to make it less awkward now that I know winter isn’t here but her annoyingly handsome brother is, aka the cause of my annoyances since I was 10. “What did I say, he is no good” he sighs as he pulls me into a hug

I close my eyes as I take in his intoxicating scent and warmth “please don’t rub it in my face right now” I groan as I know I’d be hearing him brag about being right “I know I can do that later” he chuckles as I push him back slightly embarrassing as I see my tears left a wet spot on his shirt “sorry” I sniffle as I point at his shirt

“I don’t care” he replies with an eye roll, pulling me onto him again. “Why don’t we grab some snacks and watch a movie in my room like we did in the old days?” He coos as he pulls me into the kitchen “old days? You act like we’re 80” I laugh as he rolls his eyes “well I do hope you like me even when I’m 80” he pouts as he holds his hand to his chest “I’ll always like you” I coo as I hit his shoulder

“Good” he hums as we grab a few snacks from the pantry and make our way up to his room. I throw myself on his bed and let out a loud sigh as I feel the warmth of his blankets on my skin “I’m going to check if winter has any extra clothes I can borrow, I’ll be back” I groan as I get up from the comfy bed

“here just wear this” he says as he throws one of his baggy tees “thanks” I smile as I walk into his bathroom and lock the door. I take off my shirt and pants, leaving me in my panties since the shirt I was wearing didn’t corporate with the bras I had. I put on hyucks shirt and look in the mirror and sigh as I realize how good of a guy hyuck was

Although he was a pain in my ass he’s never made me genuinely mad to the point every other guy has which was pretty impressive. Winter knows about how I felt about him in the past and always encouraged me to date him but I would be embarrassed if I told him how I felt and got rejected by one of my longest friends and HER brother…

I would’ve much rather have had him as my first boyfriend than Kun. Although I loved Kun at a point he never really made me feel safe. There is a difference between thinking your emotionally secure and feeling safe which hyuck both gave rather than one

“You ok in there?” I hear him yell as I snap out of my thoughts “yeah I’m ok” I reply as I grab my clothes and walk out of the bathroom, now being faced with a shirtless hyuck in boxers on the bed. I drop my shirt as I feel my cheeks burn red “sorry it’s cold in here” I chuckle as I turn around and place my clothes onto his desk “mmh” he slyly hums as I look at him slightly embarrassed

“So what do you want to watch?” He hums as he flips through Netflix “something scary” I reply as I lay on the bed, tucking myself under the soft blankets. Hyuck nods and flips through the horror section, clicking on the conjuring

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you know Kun was cheating on you?” He asks out of the blue but not taking me by surprise “I walked into him fucking some girl I’ve never seen before” I sigh “wow that’s pretty low even for him”

“I don’t get why some guys never see how lucky they are. I mean if I was him, another girl is the last thing I’d think about” he chuckles, freezing as he realizes what he just said “wh- I- I mean I’m kinda glad I caught him in a way…at least another girl would have to deal with his horrible sex” I shrug as I try and change the topic as I see hyucks cheeks a bright shade of pink from his comment

“Now that is not surprising” hyuck chuckles as he takes a bite of a cookie “at least now I don’t have to deal with the unsatisfying sex” I sigh as I grab a cookie and take a bite “like I said if I was him that wouldn’t have happened” he says now more confidently than the first time “why do you keep saying if I was him” I chuckle as I turn to face hyuck

“Because if I were to date you I’d make sure you’d never be unsatisfied in any way” he purrs “isn’t that nice to know” I chuckle as I nudge his arm with a smile “you know I’ve always kinda had a crush on you but knew you wouldn’t be interested” I sigh “what?”

“I’ve had a crush on you but I k-“ I repeat but get cut off by his lips crashing onto mine, a quiet moan slipping past my lips as I feel his teeth bite my bottom lip and then go back to ravaging my lips “hyuck” I moan out as I his hands roam all over my body

He pulls back, taking in my flushed complexion and my legs wrapped around his waist as he hovers over me “why didn’t you tell me that earlier” he groans as he moved a strand of my hair out of my face “I thought you wouldn’t feel the same so I spared myself the embarrassment” I smile as he sits back onto the bed

“You thought I’d reject you? Did you genuinely not get the signs I gave you?” He sighs as he runs his hands through his hair “what signs?!” I ask confused “well I- I…I guess it was as me just being mean”

“Wow, that was super obvious to me hyuck” I joke. I look at him confused as he sits and looks me up and down “what the hell was that for” I say with my arms crossed “I really like you in my shirts, especially with no bra” he winks as he pulls me onto him “also is it wrong to say I like seeing you cry, well I don’t enjoy seeing you sad but you look pretty when you cry” he coos

“That’s why you asked me to watch a movie with you mmh?” I purr as his hands snake their way onto my hips “maybe” he shrugs as I wrap my arms around his shoulders, putting us chest to chest. I slowly rub myself onto his lap, trying to make it seem like I was getting comfortable as I feel his hard cock through his boxers

He lets out a groan as I slightly bounce on his lap to get more “comfortable”

“I know what you're doing” he purrs as he grips my jaw “what do you mean?” I ask innocently causing hyuck to Scoff “it’s warm in here” I purr as I pull my shirt over my head. I hear his breath hitch as I purposely arch my back to make my nipple almost touch his lip. He looks up at me and smiles, taking my nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting all over my boobs “fuck” he whines as my hands tangle into his hair

I let out a whimper as I feel my body touch his “can I?” He asks with a raised eyebrow as he taps my inner thigh hinting at my panties “yes” I whine out as he wastes no time lifting me and dragging my panties down my legs. I feel two of his fingers run through my folds causing me to shake from the sudden touch

I look at him, his eyes closed as he takes in how wet I am. He holds his breath to listen to my wetness as he slowly rubs my clit “fuck” he hisses as he shoves two fingers into me, a loud moan spilling from my lips as his cold rings make me shiver

I bounce on his fingers slowly making him chuckle as he looks up at me and sees the lip between my teeth and my hands gripping onto his shoulders “god your gorgeous” he purrs as he kisses my shoulder with a smile

“Please hyuck” I whine out as I feel myself need more than just his fingers “mmh?” He hums “I want you in me, your cock in me” I whimper out “beg” he purrs as he moves his boxers down his thighs “please hyuck I need you in me, I want to feel you cum in me, I want y-“ I whine as I get cut off with a hard thrust

My eyes roll back as I feel his cock filling me, my walls squeezing him tightly as we moan out in pleasure, the sound of his moans making me wetter and hornier each time he whines and moans. “Fuckkk y/n” he hisses as his pace quickens, his grip on my hips tightening and slamming me harder onto his lap

“Oh my- g-“ I whimper out as I feel my juices drip down my leg, the sound of his cock slipping in and out making me smile. Hyucks lost in the pleasure as he pounds into me harder, gripping my neck tightly. The feeling of his cold rings on my neck making me whimper

My thoughts go fuzzy as I feel my orgasm building, the feeling of him tightly gripping my neck making it build up faster. My eyes lock with his as my mouth falls open, a silent cry coming out as my walls clench around him, shaking uncontrollably as his grip on my neck starts to make my ears ring, and my breaths get harder to catch as I grip onto his wrist

His grip loosens enough for me to let out a cry of pleasure, the feeling of him continuing to ram into me making me whine “I know baby it feels so good doesn’t it?” He whimpers into my mouth as he pulls me down and kisses me “your going to be the death of me” he purrs as he smiles at the sight of my saliva dripping down my chin and tears streaming down my face

“Fuckkk” he moans out as he feels me squeeze around him once again, no noise coming out of my mouth as my eyes roll back. I feel his seed spill into me making the squelching sound from my cunt louder “one more” he purrs as his thrust continue, my eyes widen from the fact that he could go another round after just cumming

“I- ca-“ I try and mutter out as the overstimulation starts to get too much “you can take it, just one more baby just one” he pouts as he moves my hair out of my face

One more turned into I’ve lost count as he pumped me full of his cum, just for him to fuck it out of me and fill me up again, my brain was fuzzy and dizzy with pleasure. His thighs were covered in our juices, the thought of us being too loud never coming to mind as he continued to fuck me senseless

“Hy- hyuck” I whine out as I shake yet again, crying out as he breaths heavily onto my neck, his thrusts getting sloppier as he fills me up again, his pace slowing as I fall onto him. I stay wrapped around his cock for a few minutes as we both take in everything that happened “you okay?” He asks as I lay on his chest as he pulls out of me causing me to shiver. We lay on the bed as I kiss his chest “mmh” I nod weakly as he moves my hair out of my face

“As much as I’d love to stay like this let me get you cleaned up” he coos as he lays me on the bed and gets up. He lifts me off the bed, carrying me to the shower as he kisses my cheek “you did perfect for me” he smiles as he turns on the water. “What about your sheets?” I ask as I stand up and let the water run down my face “I have an extra in my closet don’t worry”

“shit I’m sorry” I hear haechan sigh as he moves my hair off of my neck and sees bruises from his grip “It’s ok” I smile as I already know I’d be marked, not only on my neck but probably all the places his hands and teeth were “it’s not okay, I should’ve never lost that much control” he replies with regret “trust me you could never hurt me, and I liked how rough you were” I purr

He smiles worryingly and nods “just trust me you’ll let me know if I get too rough okay? Our code word can be red” he says reassuringly as he kisses my shoulders and forehead “I will” I smile as I hug him, letting the water run down both of us as he holds me up for balance just in case.

“This is all I could ask for”

[touyubesposts]

My Sander Sides Enlightment

You know what’s always kinda bothered me? Those mean takes on the other sides. Like ‘Janus is manipulating Patton and isn’t actually trying to be friends with him,’ ‘Patton has too much moral superiority,’ ‘Roman never learns,’ So on and so forth. There is something bad to say about all the sides. No hate to anyone who's made one, you are valid and probably right in your own way. I think the only reason they bother me so much is because you can easily say the opposite. The most common phrase being ‘Nobody listens to ____’

“Nobody listens to Patton! He was trying to show the others that Virgil was good all along and only when Virgil was gone did they listen.”

“Nobody listens to Logan! He gets ignored constantly and he’s getting mad because of it.”

“Nobody listens to Roman! Every time he comes up with a solution, he gets shut down only to get blamed for not coming up with a solution.”

“Nobody listens to Virgil! He only gets listened to when he forces Thomas to hear him, and he doesn’t like doing that.”

“Nobody listens to Janus! Even when he has good ideas and arguments, they get pushed to the side because he is a dark side.”

“Nobody listens to Remus! That was the entire point of an episode. And all he wants is to be listened to, it doesn’t matter who.”

And all of these are valid points. But at some point, you have to wonder who’s not listening the most. Which is how I think the criticism posts of the characters came to be in the first place. But I don’t think any of them are to blame. Even when this new side gets revealed, it won’t be his fault either. The fault isn’t on Roman, or Logan, or Janus, or any of them.

It's on Thomas.

And of course I don’t mean ‘Writer Thomas,’ I mean ‘Character Thomas.’ Throughout the series, Thomas has always held himself high. You can’t be perfect, but you can try to be. And every time a situation comes up, he doubts himself, wondering if he’s even any good at all.

And in comes the sides, telling him that he can’t be bad and here's why. In fact, Thomas won’t let himself be bad at anything. Can’t be a bad worker, can’t be a bad actor or singer, and certainly can’t be a bad friend. Even in situations where he wouldn’t even be those things, he can’t even let himself risk it.

And so, the sides follow suit.

Logan becomes the perfect person for knowledge and learning, never letting himself be anything less than right all the time.

Roman strives to be perfect physically and materialistically, coming up with creative ideas that help Thomas move up in the world or, at the very least, make himself feel better.

Patton is the perfectly moral person. Make sure everyone is alright, help whenever and wherever you can, and always keep a smile on. Wouldn’t want anyone worrying for you, right? That wouldn’t be good.

Virgil is the perfect alarm system. Even false alarms are taken with the utmost seriousness. Just as long as no one else knows your anxious.

Janus is a deceiver. And Thomas lies often. So he needs to be the best at putting on a face and making sure nothing goes off without a hitch. Wouldn’t want people catching him in a lie. He needs to be the perfect liar.

And then there's Remus. The only one who tries not to be perfect. But that idea terrifies the others so much, Remus is left to pick up all of the imperfection slack. Maybe that's why Remus was offended when he was called ‘Scary.’

Trying to be so many perfect things all at once, you’re going to but heads with all of the different aspects of yourself. You're going to not listen. You're going to ignore. And in some cases, your perfectionism is going to make you look like the bad guy. And as someone with perfectionism, I relate a little too hard.

Thank you for reading.

[razorblade180-heated]

Early Christmas Gift

[Warning, smut. Like the whole thing]

It had been a looooog day for Jaune Arc. The end of a crazy mission that had far too many explosions, the loss of his wallet for half the day which forced him to miss his boat, and finally, bad turbulence on a flight all the way back to Vale. Now it was the dead of night and he was wheeling his luggage down the sidewalks. At least he didn’t vomit on the ride, this time.

“Note to self, Vacou kids are amazing pickpockets.” He mumbled aloud. Thank goodness Ren was quick on his feet and that Nora could be as scary as she could be sweet. If not, things could’ve been worse. Now that he was back in the city, his Scroll was practically blowing up with messages. Notably, his girlfriend, Yang, called a little more than Ruby. Before he could finally return a call, his scroll rang with Yang’s name.

He laughed nervously and smiled, preparing himself as he answered. “H-”

“SO YOU ARE ALIVE!? WHAT THE HECK MAN!?” The blonde yelled, relieved and annoyed.

Honestly, less aggressive than he expected. “Hi baby. I’m sorry.” Jaune deflated as he spoke. “Today has been a day.”

“That’s putting it mildly. Weren’t you supposed to be home seven hours ago? Did the mission go south? You didn’t get hurt did you?”

“No, the mission was pretty Nora core. All and all we made good time but then someone stole my stuff, missed my boat; lots of other very, very exhausting stuff. I’m walking home as we speak.”

“Wow. That’s…definitely a lot. Wait, you’re walking? It’s nearly midnight. You could’ve called me or someone to pick you up from the port.”

“I figured everyone was asleep.”

“Get real. Do you really think I’d be sound asleep before I knew you were okay?”

Those words warmed his heart greatly. “Thanks Yang. I’m fine though. Vale isn’t some ghost town at night. I am sorry though. We had plans to meet today. You must’ve been waiting a while.”

“You…could say that.” Yang laughed sheepishly. “Here I was, ready to see my boyfriend after we finished our missions and his annoying personal challenge was achieved.”

“A month without sex is a test of will and power.” He defended.

“November is the time for good food and being thankful. Anything else is wild. Besides, we’ve both gone years without fun stuff. Why add a month?”

“Heh, I don’t think being a single or a virgin counts. You’re just opted in at that point. How did your mission go by the way?”

“Got home on time.”

“Ouch… where’d the warmth go?” He teases.

“I know you’re fine now. If you want warmth then…maybe I should see you?”

“You’re an island away. Even if you caught the final flight I’d feel guilty. Though if it makes you feel better…I’ve been missing you all day.”

“…Always the charmer. I’ve definitely been missing you too.” She said, a little more bashful than usual.

“There’s always tomorrow. I’m definitely not going anywhere. Aside from grocery shopping.”

“Have you eaten?”

“My apartment should still have something edible. I’ll probably grab a snack, bathe, and crash.” He finally reached his building’s street. “Anyways, I’ve officially made it home safely. Just several feet away. Now you can have pretty dreams knowing I’m safe.”

“Nope. Not until you go through your front door. I’m not hanging up until you do.”

“Okay, okay. Heh, honestly with my luck something crazy would happen if I hung up early.” He laughed.

“Please don’t jinx yourself.”

Jaune made his way down the hall, up some annoying stairs, and to the front of his door.

“Kay, now you are free to sleep.”

“Have a wonderful night, handsome.” Yang made a kiss noise over the phone and hung up.

Just like that, Jaune felt the warmth again. She was so good to him. He’d definitely have to treat her to a dinner or some kind of club date. The man found his keys and went inside his home at last. Instantly his nose was greeted with wonder and bliss. That was…odd. He put down his belongings and walked over to the kitchen; a flick of the light revealed a hot box of pizza. Jaune had to do a double take to make sure this was his place. He then noticed Yang’s emblem drawn in orange on the box.

“Ah, that’s why she asked if I ate.” He smiled before quickly going back to being confused. How was the pizza hot? Yang had a key to his place but when was she over here? Did she leave briefly before he called? Unless…

Jaune looked towards the absolute darkness that was his living room and squinted. Not that it helped with the balcony blinds shut. “Yang?”

His call was answered with snickering. “Hehehe, I do love watching your brain at work. Although…” She pulled the metal lamp string next to her to light up the room. “You’re also cute when it’s derailed.

And derailed it was. There his cute girlfriend was, sitting on his black leather recliner his family had bought him. Her smile was cheeky as well as ear to ear. She sure caught him by surprise, but the real shock was her outfit. A silly little Santa hat on top of her head jingled while the only thing on her body was a red tube top with white frills that was fighting for his life, a matching miniskirt that barely went halfway down her thighs, and very, very long red stockings that compensated for the skirt’s lack of…well, skirt.

Jaune’s mouth went dry and his eyes embarrassingly wide. It was as if Yang had knocked the exhaustion out of them. He wasn’t quite sure where he should’ve been looking at first, but then noticed despite how confidently the lady sat there with her legs crossed, her cheeks were branded pink and her gaze, while excited, was also avoiding complete eye contact.

“For the record, I’ve been in this for quite awhile.” She said, breaking the silence. “It took guts to commit to this surprise.”

“Now I’m curious what you would’ve done if I had called you to pick me up!”

“Then Remnant would’ve gotten a hot Mrs. Claus on a motorcycle.” She smirked. “Although I’m actually very relieved that was not the case. It’s cold out there!”

Not the issue Jaune thought she was going to say but he rolled with it. Not that he had much choice. Yang finally stood up and slowly walked towards him, draping her arms over his shoulders and giving a more endearing grin despite her obvious flustered face. “Welcome home. As you can see, I missed you.”

He nodded, “Yeah, I can feel the yearning. Hehe, you look…wow. Talk about an early present.” His hands automatically went to hold her waist.”

Yang got on her toes and gained a very sweet and joyful kiss. She’s glad her efforts paid off, but she could tell Jaune really had a long day. “Go grab a slice and unwind yourself. I’m not going anywhere so- mmph!?”

Her offer was outright denied, thrown to the side as Jaune pulled her body closer and back into a more passionate kiss that fluttered her heart and stole her breath. The longer kept her in his arms, the more she found herself melting into the embrace to the point her knees buckled before he allowed her to breathe again.

Frazzled, Yang found herself stammering and chewing on her bottom lip. “I um- I uhh can wait a while longer for you to rest.”

“I’ve made you wait long enough.” He said with yearning and restrained lust as he pulled her back into a kiss that took custody of her tongue.

Yang felt herself rise up onto her toes as Jaune’s hands found residence on her shapely rear. He didn’t think twice about squeezing it as he picked her up and allowed her legs to wrap around his waist. It didn’t take long before her man went a step further in sliding his hands under the provocative skirt. Jaune quickly ended their kiss to gaze at her as her face grew red from his curious expression.

“No underwear huh?” He said, sinking his digits into warm flesh. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Funny. I was wondering the same thing.” Her hands rubbed his broad chest. “Come sit on the couch for you me will ya?”

He followed her quest and sat right in the middle of the couch. Yang was about to get off him for the next step, but was clearly taken by surprise when his teeth tugged her tube top down, freeing her massive chest before ravishing them. A jolt ram through her spine as his warm tongue lapped around her nipples. His hands kept her waist pressed down on her lap to the point she had no choice but to feel his pulsing cock through tight jeans. Nevertheless, Yang couldn’t stop her hips from grinning along it, dampening the fabric severely.

“H-Hey…wait! I-mmm” Her voice shook, feeling him sink his teeth into her. Jaune leaned forward, putting Yang on her back as he continued devouring her body. “Jaune! Hold on~ I…had a whole routine~” Yangs mewls only served to make him more daring. His tongue trailed up her neck, causing her entire body to arch as he met her lips again for another kiss. Yang was overwhelmed with the scent of the boy and his rough day, which she increasingly found more and more dulling to her senses. She didn’t even notice Jaune had unzipped his pants until she felt his buring hot tip rubbing along her folds. “Mmmph”

Jaune could already feel her lips quivering as they coated his cock. To get this excited so quickly; he wasn’t one to talk though. He began pushing his hips continuously into the molten warmth.

“Aaaaah!” Yang felt the wind leave her body as Jaune’s thick cock spread her body apart and filled her inch by inch until she felt the weight of his balls against her ass. He slowly began dragging himself out halfway before plummeting back in as he grunted. “Ah fuck!” Yang gripped his forearms as her body tripped to adjust.

“Gods, I missed you. You’re so wet.”

“Who’s fault is that!?” Yang’s breathing became sharper as Jaune started moving. “Nng, too big. Rock solid too~”

“It has been a long month. I’m dying for a release.”

“How do you think I feel!? It hasn’t been easy for me either.” She pouted. Suddenly she felt his movements slow. “Jaune?” He raised himself up and looked down at her with a shocked look from between her legs. “What?”

“Are you telling me you didn’t touch yourself the entire time?”

Yang felt heat rush to her face. Looking at him became a lot harder so she turned her head to the side. “What would be the point? Even if I used a toy, I just wouldn’t feel as good as you.”

A brief silence fell on them. Yang awaited his response when she suddenly felt him twitch inside her. Jaune’s hands held her waist tightly and raised her lower body off the couch with ease, causing her to look his way. “What are you-” was all she could manage before seeing Jaune thrust his hips forward, causing another series of jolts as he began to go all out.

Yang’s mouth fell open and stayed that way as voiceless, broken cries left her throat until a scream finally broke out. “AAAAGHN~” her brain became a mess, her eyes fluttering at the sight of jaune mercilessly fucking her pussy until their sex became loud and wet. Her stomach felt like fire as her hips became numb with the pleasure of being turned inside out. Each deep rub made her gasp for air she couldn’t gain while her chest bounced to the rough rhythm. “B-baby. Baby! Aaah!” Yang reached for him and he gladly returned to her embrace. She knew despite her pleas, his pace would not falter; nor did she want it to. Their pleasure had built too quickly to turn back now. With a final raise of his hips, Yang felt the man bury himself deep inside and release a rush of heat that made her body squeeze him for more as her vision blurred momentarily. When she recovered, Jaune was already pulling out slowly and giving both of their bodies a break. Still, if you were to go by appearances, Jaune’s body hadn’t calmed down in the slightest.

“Looks like all of you missed me.” Yang huffed, sitting up as her legs gained some feeling. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to have a kid.”

Jaune watched the woman run her middle finger along her slit to pick up some of the lust he left dripping in her. Yang looked him dead in the eyes as she lapped up the naughty taste, making him blush.

“I had an entire routine planned out and you threw it to the side. Not that I mind.”

“You can’t say the things you said a

and wear this without expecting me to get riled up.”

“Heh, touché.” Her gaze fell on his erection, the near seven inches of solid flesh was still ready. Might as well start her plans now, Yang thought. She leaned forward, crawling on hands and knees until she was in the perfect spot to lower her head.

Jaune shuddered as he felt her hot lips wrap around his length to lick him lavishly. Now he knew Yang was horny for sure. Giving head was never her favorite activity in this fun process, but now her face was happily burying itself in his lap repeatedly. His left hand brushed the blonde bombshell’s hair aside for an unobstructed view of her work.

Yang ran her tongue up and down the girth base, polishing it while making faint moans and wet smacks to turn him on more. She must’ve been losing her mind because the way his taste and smell overwhelmed her senses in the best way possible. Her grip on reality only came back when Jaune's hand struck her rear suddenly, his middle and ring finger slipping inside her body to stir her desires harder.

“Mmmm~”

Jaune couldn’t stop his smirk. “Oh you like that?”

“Mmhmm~” Yang readied herself and pressed down in one motion to feel this man in her throat before coming up for air. Yang could feel his digits grow relentless as they sped up. Unable to focus, she freed Jaune from her mouth in a fit of panting and mewls. Her hips couldn’t stop shaking, pushing against his hand to feel each knuckle rub deeper. “Gods, why is this so good?”

“Cum if you need to. Let me see that pretty face.”

“No~ I…I wanted to use my tits on you. But now I…I’m…” Yang let out a long, heartfelt sigh. How did things get this messy so fast? “Put it back in me. I want it.”

Jaune retracted his fingers and did his best to regain his own composure; a difficult task when the love of his life not only pleaded, but brazenly kissed along his shaft in a stupor of want and desire. “Ngh, Yang, get on my lap if you want it.”

Yang got on her knees then swung her right leg to the other side of Jaune’s waist. The boy wasted no time massaging and kneading her chest, riddling it with bits as Yang cooed. Her body dropped slowly, piercing herself onto Jaune’s flesh.

“Aaaaghn~” her hands ran up his chest and gripped his shoulders as Yang started bouncing on his lap, putting all her weight down each time to feel her womb get knocked on. Jaune’s mouth stayed busy where it was but his hands returned to her rear, molding it like clay as he helped push her down to the base. Her hips buckled. “Fuck!”

Heavy, wet smacks echoed every time her ass slammed onto Jaune’s lap. The man couldn’t believe the tightness that surrounded him; the way it clung it his length and coated it with ecstasy that reached his thighs. Engulfed by Yang’s heat, Jaune finally took a second to separate his lips from his body and removed his shirt. Yang’s arms all but sprang out towards him right after, pulling him into a feverish kiss while her hips moved on their own before his hands returned.

“You’re so in love with my ass tonight.” Yang hummed.

“I’m in love with it every night.” He continued kneading it, his fingers rubbing all of it. “Hey, so how much did you prepare for today?”

Yang didn’t get the question at first, until she felt a single finger tracing her asshole. Yang couldn’t hide the state of blushing red he put her into with his pesky intention. To make it worse, her body already gave him the answer to the question. Yang buried her face into the crook of Jaune’s neck and quivered as the naughty middle finger pressed into her slowly. A moan came from her throat and her hips worked over time on his cock as Jaune began to play his little game.

He could already feel her walls frantically twitching but he knew he could make Yang go crazy. He wanted to make the month of emptiness mean everything. He nipped at her ear as he continued fingering her. “You’re such a good girl, you that? Doing all this for me; allowing me to cut loose~” he thrusted up suddenly.

“AAAHH!” His nipping turned into feverish licks as well. Yang tried staying strong but now he was meeting her thrusts and pumped his finger into her more quickly. Her body became repeated jolts of pleasure to the point Yang could only bite her lover’s shoulder as a way to soften her growls.

Jaune’s only panting became like a drunken breath as he approached his end. “Good girl~” he cooed, leaning right into her ear and whispering it one more time. “Gooood girl.” He pressed her hips down against his waist, going as deep as possible. “Here’s your reward!” He grunted, cumming for the second time.

Every muscle in Yang’s body tensed all at once. She was certain she’d scream, yet the immense rush of pleasure stole voice, leaving nothing but a silent yell as she clung to him like a girl on a wild roller coaster. Pulse after pulse, she felt her insides get marked by Jaune. The dork was brazen enough to call it a “reward” and she had half a mind to thank him for it. They were going crazy. Not that she hated it for a second.

Yang felt Jaune relax under her body while she found the strength to set up after his hands finished toying with her. “Wow, that was- hmm” Yang stopped short as she witnessed Jaune struggling to keep his eyes open. Poor guy was spent! It was almost hard not to laugh. “Pfft, gee, looks like someone should’ve eaten.”

“I was hungry for other things.” He groaned, wrapping his arms around her torso and resting his face in her chest. “But now that pizza sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“Oh what to do with you?” Yang giggled, her hands combing through his hands. Truthfully, she wanted him to stay inside like this a little longer, but the last thing she wanted was her boyfriend withering away. Yang kissed the top of his head. “I’ll go fix you a plate.”

“You’re wonderful.”

“And you’re outstanding. My hips are still floating.” She said, embarrassed by her own honesty.

“Let’s wash up together after we eat.”

“Only washing?” She teased, only to feel him twitch inside of her. Yang gasped a little. Jaune raised his head to look into her eyes with a gaze that made her chew on her bottom lip again. Tonight was going to be a long night. “Welcome home.”

[zodiactalks]

Top 5 MEANEST Signs of the Zodiac

It’s a fact that not everyone is a nice person. Some people are straight-up mean. Often for no apparent reason.

It’s easy to brush people off as having a bad day. It can be easy to ignore if they are strangers in public. Less so when it’s a family member or that friend who can never say anything positive.

Were they traumatized into being cruel? Or are they just nasty people at their core?

It can be hard to tell. 

Let’s take a look at the five meanest signs of the zodiac.

#1. Scorpio

Scorpio runs hot and cold. They are about intensity and extremes.

Scorpio has a reputation for not being a well-liked zodiac sign. The reason for that lies in their intense natures. The extremes that Scorpio embodies can’t be handled by everyone. And they don’t want to be accessible to others, anyway.

Scorpio enjoys solitude and is highly likely to be an introvert in some capacity. Interacting with others a lot tends to get them into hot water.

Dark humor and biting sarcasm is the main way Scorpio communicates with others. Unfortunately, not many people appreciate that and end up offended. 

Scorpio doesn’t care, they need to get thicker skin.  

Even when unintended, Scorpio can appear harsh and standoffish. 

Like Scorpios ruling planet Pluto, they prefer to be apart and distant from the rest of the world. It can make others uncomfortable and misunderstand Scorpio. 

#2. Cancer

In order to protect themselves, Cancer can be incredibly mean. 

Cancer has a lot of emotions swirling inside them at any given time. It can be confusing and hard to separate one from another. Especially when it comes to their feelings about other people.

When Cancer is feeling exposed, they can lash out. If they truly intend to hurt others, they won’t hold back. 

Cancer is a zodiac sign who attracts spontaneous life storytelling. They will have perfect strangers telling them personal details. So, when Cancer gears up to give someone a harsh scolding, they have an arsenal at their fingertips.

When Cancer purposely attacks others, they are vicious. The person will have their deepest insecurities exposed and emotional wounds broke wide open. 

Once Cancer has finished, they may feel guilty. Not that they’d ever let the other person know. They have to stick to their decision now.

#3. Capricorn

Capricorn is naturally intimidating. Others can take their own feelings of inadequacy around Capricorn as them being mean.

Capricorn can be a challenging personality. They are equal parts capable of whatever their chosen paths are. And very socially awkward.

Which can lead Capricorn to not express themselves as they wish they could. Blunt and uninterested in putting on a fake show, Capricorn can struggle with socializing.

When Capricorn does want to be mean, boy can they be cruel. Capricorn isn’t like Cancer in having others spill their life story. But they are keen observers. 

Capricorn can profile others with scary accuracy. Which can give them the ability to land hard blows when they want to. 

Sometimes even when they don’t mean to, Capricorn doesn’t have a filter.

#4. Taurus

Taurus is extremely patient with others until they are pushed over the edge. Once that happens, they can shock others with the mean streak they have.

Taurus is a person no one expects to use others' insecurities against them. And Taurus doesn’t like to. But, for example, if someone tries to lord over them for an extended period while not being a productive teammate, Taurus will snap.

It will be the wrong thing said at the wrong time, and Taurus will stun those around them. A blast of, usually, righteous anger will knock others back. Taurus doesn’t explode without good reason. 

Once they are unleashed, though, Taurus will drag a person through the mud and expose them in relentless detail. 

Taurus never says anything untrue. They have likely been thinking about all those things for a long time. 

#5. Aquarius

Aquarius is too honest for a lot of people.

Adept at mediating conflict between others, Aquarius has trouble doing the same for themselves. According to them, that is because others aren’t able to handle their straightforwardness. 

Aquarius is very set in their ways when it comes to their core beliefs. They can adapt and apply new ideas, but their central beliefs are unyielding without dramatic events.

Due to those core beliefs, Aquarius can come off as mean if those principles are questioned. It depends on the day whether they will consider and contemplate the opposing view or if they will counterattack. 

If they choose to fight, Aquarius eventually looks back and regrets doing so. They are a free-thinking zodiac sign. So, looking back at when they didn’t embrace that, that can have them feeling untrue to themselves.

[ryuichirou]

hiiii!!! It's been so long since I done one of these!!!

But I need silly thoughts,,,,

Okay so Floyd can probably most likely go into heat since he is an eel? Right?

So like,,,, hear me out

What do you guys think about Heat!Floyd going after Riddle?

~ 💙 Anon!

It’s so good to see you again, 💙 Anon! Thank you for sticking around, supporting us and sending asks. Sorry for a late reply~

Apparently the procreation of actual eels is quite a complicated process that is difficult to apply to mermen (although I am 100% sure that Yana has everything figured out lol), so what I’m about to describe is very vaguely related to actual eel anatomy… but such inconveniences are never going to stop us lol let Floyd get uncontrollably horny and jump Riddle!

Floyd is quite flirty and sexually active in general, as long as he is in the mood, so in theory, his “heat” wouldn’t change much, but this is actually wrong. The desire to mate becomes too strong for Floyd and it affects his well-being tremendously. Sometimes it’s bearable, and sometimes Azul and Jade (who surprisingly don’t have as much problems with their own cycles) have to pretty much lock him up in his room until he calms down. Floyd also becomes more aggressive and clingy at the same time, his mood swings get even more extreme than usual. He also becomes apathetic to everything other than his one interest (sex), which makes him eat less and become even more irritable because of that.

Riddle doesn’t know much about mermen’s anatomy, and he doesn’t usually see Floyd all that often when such things happen to him. He just assumes that Floyd is being lazy again, and that’s why he skips classes. Or that Floyd is just being his Floyd self, and this is why he is so aggressive. But one time when he sees Floyd sitting on the floor all by himself, he’ll feel bad and concerned about him and ask if anything is wrong… and this is going to be his demise lol

While being chaotic in his usual state, Floyd would still try to find a nice place for them to have sex. But when he is this uncontrollably horned up, he’ll just start touching Riddle right there, which is honestly kind of dangerous for both of them lol but his mind would go blank the moment he sees Riddle, who he has both romantic affection and sexual desire for.

This isn’t the only reason why he would jump Riddle though. Riddle is small, cute, soft and pleasant to touch, very reactive and sensitive. He is also terribly freaked out by Floyd but Floyd would honestly just get more horny because of that lol

What scared Riddle the most at first was Floyd’s animalistic hungry stare. It was as if he was both angry at him and incredibly happy to see him at the same time. But Riddle didn’t even have a chance to process it, because he was very suddenly buried under Floyd’s heavy body, feeling his huge hard dick against his own belly. Then he got scared again. And then again, when he actually saw that huge and scary wet thing that was about to get shoved inside of him ahem.

As I’ve already said, Floyd is both aggressive and clingy when he gets to this point, so he’ll lick and caress Riddle, rub his forehead against him, pant like a dog and grab his hands, but he’ll also bite him brutally, manhandle him and leave a lot of marks on his entire body, trying to claim him whole and fill him whole.

Despite Floyd’s mind being pretty much blank during that, he’ll be conscious enough to talk to Riddle. But he won’t remember a thing he’d said afterwards… but Riddle will. Because things that Floyd said were so rude, so filthy, disgusting and honestly very offensive, they made Riddle cry (both because of pain and pleasure).

There is a possibility that Floyd won’t remember much about what happened in general. But his body will, so every time he goes in heat from now on, he’ll go straight to Riddle and act like an animal again.

[antaripirate]

I’m almost certain that Kell talks in his sleep sometimes.

Or at least mumbles things that don’t quite make sense, but clearly mean something.

I always imagined him as a deep sleeper, which we now know is canon, and I’ve also always imagined him as a sleep talker.

It wouldn’t surprise me if his emotions sort of took over while he sleeps. Like if he was dreaming about something, I think it would reflect that. Or if he’d been worrying about something.

Like, in Threads, we see that he won’t sleep if Lila isn’t there, because he worries about something bad happening to her, what with her tendency for trouble.

And when she’s finally there and he knows she’s safe, and they fall asleep, I can imagine him unconsciously mumbling things to her.

I like to imagine him mumbling I love you’s to her in one form or another.

I like to imagine her whispering it back while he sleeps. After all, it’s a much less scary thing to say that way.

Or maybe he just says the most incoherent things while he sleeps, and Lila is never able to make any sense out of it. I bet some nights, when she can’t sleep, she just lies beside him and listens.

Also, I can imagine years ago, when Kell and Rhy were only kids, the two of them building a den or a fort out of blankets and pillows to have a sleepover in (even though they have a literal corridor between their rooms).

I can picture Kell talking in his sleep, and Rhy whacking him on the head with a pillow, and telling him he’s making too much of a racket and he can’t sleep with all that noise. And Kell would frown and insist that he absolutely does not talk in his sleep.