#yeah anyways onto the actual subject.

[birdmenmanga]

some kind of moodboard

@birdmenanime @kitsoa

[atanxdoesstuff]

Here, some Ryley sketches ft. Cuddlefish skritches, Peeper, Bladderfish, and This Is Ozzy From The Cafeteria What The Hell Guys!

i haven't drawn in quite some time but yknow its exam phase so :/ ofc my motivation comes back when I really should be doing something else like idk study? or somethin

[shizdrone]

realised that as all of my irl friends fear me in tabletop games. even after all of this time, i am still successfully following in shizune's footsteps. next comes getting them into risk. australia will be mine

[eddie4bat-president]

Saw a drawing of Steve and now I'm suddenly thinking about artist Eddie who designed the Hellfire shirts and Corroded Coffin fliers and who draws the villains of his D&D campaigns to slap onto his DM screen for visual aid and doodles in class and-

And i'm thinking about Steve, in a relationship with Nancy, trying to ignore that things are rocky but knowing it all the same. He finds a notebook left behind in school and he only takes it because he forgot his own. He plans to use it for the day and then figure out whose it is and get it back to them in exchange, that's probably more than fair, right? And the person is really gonna want this back - it looks like half their life is contained in this thing; there is... a shit ton of loose paper stuffed between the pages and notes on all kinds of subjects and drawings and.... he doesn't even know what that is. Who is Vecna and what the hell is a... lich?

Anyway as he leafs through it he finds that some of the drawings are... actually really good. Like, absurdly good for being in a lined notebook that looks like it has taken a trip into a dumpster and picked up some debris on the way out.

Like! Those hands! Steve has no artistic bone in his body but he's heard people whine about drawing hands and - he looks at the hand not holding the book and back again - yeah, that's exactly what hands look like! And here - a few pages further (it's one of the most empty pages of the whole thing, mostly because this one seems to have started as a drawing and not as a page of notes that turned into a drawing) there are only a few lines on the page but it's still very clearly the back of someone's neck, the collar, one shoulder.... Then there's another one that is almost all lines, but they were all carefully placed to give the effect of perfectly windswept hair. Then there's one that he actually can't make sense of at first (he almost pages past it because it is just a few lines and dots taking up a quarter of a page of very annoyed... history notes? Maybe English.) It's just a jawline with some moles but... only the day before he had cut himself shaving a finger's width underneath those exact moles. And that's when it clicks. He goes back to the hair... yeah that- that could be him too. Maybe. He flips back to that one very detailed drawing of hands and... putting down the book he tries to get his hands into the same position - the angle is off but. Yeah. That's why they looked so perfectly...! Uhhhh... Handsy! Because they're his fucking hands!

Anyway Steve realizes that about a third of the drawings are or could be him. He realizes that he actually can't go through with giving it back because - what would he even say? "Hey found your notebook, nice shrine to me?" Yeah no. But he's... also reluctant to take it to the Lost and Found. There's something in the handwriting.... He has a feeling that it might not be a girl secretly drawing him. What if someone else connects the dots? What if they confront the mystery artist about it? Flashbacks to his fight with Jonathan, the line he crossed and immediately regretted. He doesn't want to be the cause for someone else getting called that. And unrelated to that, things with Nancy aren't great right now and it's... it's just nice to think someone is paying attention, alright?

Then Halloween happens a few days after. The Break-up(?), the demodogs, Billy and the tunnels- and afterwards it's nice to have the notebook to distract him from the pain. The mundane mystery of a schoolmate maybe having a crush on him. He might not even have to confront them - he can just figure out a way to slip it into their locker; it looks like at least half their schoolwork is crammed into this thing, no matter how half-heartedly done. They definitely want this back.

Man, I wish I could actually write this thing. Damn. Maybe I could even do a scene where Steve tries to Sherlock Holmes his way to Mystery Artist and confronts a (hatefully seething) Robin, because she sits behind him in that one class, only to find his own Watson in her instead. But alas. It cannot be.

[bluerosefox]

Gothamites Never Really Rest

Small warning in this: very light swearing, light mentions of deaths, and tw light touching on the subject of abuse, like very light. But still an fyi.

Danny was used to his main Rogues (Boxy, Ember, Skulker, etc etc, you know those guys) showing up randomly and at odd hours, causing some chaos around town due to their own boredom or just wanting some fun (the more deadly ones were rare to show up and his main Rogues do at least respect him enough to give him the rest of the day off when they sense a ‘big bad’ fight), he fights them, wins, before he send them back to the portal. Then they rinse and repeat this for the next day.

So as he really wasn’t expecting, especially since he had just sent his ghostly quota for the day back to the portal a few hours ago (Boxy of course, and Youngblood (dressed as a Firefighter this time, though the ending for their fight actually ended on a good note. YB had been asking Danny about space, Danny kinda hoped YB will be an Astronaut next time cause that would be fun)), Johnny 13 (and Shadow) to phase into his room as he was heading to bed.

Honestly (he groaned when he realized who it was, dealing with Johnny, Kitty (and Shadow) during a ‘break up’ or ‘lovers spat’ always was a pain) he was expecting Johnny to just start attacking but before Danny could demanded to know what he was doing in his room Johnny hesitatingly asked if they could talk.

Now Danny, talking to his main Rogues, like legit talking was a very rare thing. But it has happened a few times.

With Johnny asking if they could talk, his face nervous but not in a 'I pissed off Kitty and idk where she ran off to again', Danny nodded and agreed.

"Hey, so like I know we all kinda agreed not to go roaming too far from Amity because of the whole government suits guys and bringing unwanted attention to us ghosts in the names of the Super Dorks but is it alright if Kitty and I head across the state for a few days? I promise we'll be back and stay under the radar..."

"What?! Why would you guys need to something like that?!"

"....."

"Johnny, look dude I know Amity can get boring sometimes but-"

"Someone killed Kitty's abusive waste of space father three weeks ago, you know that fucker that killed us in cold blood when he found out Kitty and I were enloping. Yeah him. We felt it, we felt him die and... kid I can tell you how our cores SANG about it when he croaked. Whoever ended him, they did so for us. It was a revenge kill... It felt amazing. Its why you havent seen us too, we... we needed time to process that." Johnny quickly explained and that shut any protest Danny had up, he knew a bit of the story how Johnny and Kitty died, and it was respectful to allow one's fellow ghost to talk about their deaths should they talk of it.

With a melancholy smile and a hand petting a chirping Shadow who sprung up to comfort his other half, Johnny then said "Kitty's been avoiding returning to Gotham for ages since we woke up in the Realms and whenever we found a natural portal back to it. She's always been terrified of running into him and even being a ghost she's still can't. But he's gone now, we felt his life end and he isn't a ghost either! Like legit, if he became a ghost we'd still be able to sense our murderer you know!... Anyways she wants to visits her old haunts and maybe see if we can find some old friends, see how they're doing you know. We won't mess with them or anything, just a small pop in..."

"We... We also kinda wanna find the guy who did it too... We could feel his emotions when he ended Kitty's old man and firstly let me tell you, rage. Like a lot of it. But also we felt his need for justice and... he felt familiar... like someone we knew and he knew us. That's how we know it's a revenge kill. Someone did that for us and well.... Kitty and I wanna thank him you know."

-x-x-

Meanwhile in Gotham about three week prior.

A budding Crime Lord had crossed out the face of a older man from a photograph pinned onto a corkboard, below and connected by red strings was two other papers as well. One held the newspaper clipping of two bodies being found in a ditch with the remains of a busted up motorcycle, a young male and female were reportedly found halfway buried in it. The male was reported to be a trouble maker from Crime Alley, knowen for stealing tires while the female was the daughter of a suspected mob boss.

The other string however, lead to a small, yellowed from age and tiny bit damaged photo of three people. The photo held two older, nearly out of their teens, male and female both looking like rough city street kids. A motorcycle could be seen behind them an it was missing a wheel. The young man with blonde hair was kneeling on the ground, his hands holding onto a tire iron and he looked rather proud, the young female was wearing red and had some dye in her hair and was smiling as she held the camera taking the picture in a selfie as best as she could.

In between the two was a young kid, blue eyes and black hair, a beaming smile on his face as his own hands were on top of a tire wheel. A wheel he had finally learned how to take off in record speed thanks to Johnny teaching him.

Green eyes that shifted for a second to teal stared at the photo for a moment before saying

"Hope you both are resting easily now. Kitty, Johnny."

[douceurrrr]

𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐲

— the nerd with the big cock finally loses his virginity

warnings | unedited raw material, face fucking, spanking, doggy,fingering, breeding, first time, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)

a/n | inspired by this audio link

you agreed to study this big test with ethan because he said that he knows a good way to study for the test and to be honest you didn’t really know how to study for the test, it was just too much to study but ethan insisted on helping you. ethan didn’t know where he found the balls to ask you to come over to his dorm to study but he did not thinking you were going to come anyways, a girl like you would never be around a guy like him he thought.

meanwhile ethan is chilling in his dorm until he heard a knock on his door, he walks over and opens it to see you with two binders labeled biochemistry on them. “oh hi, I didn’t really think you were going to come.” he sounded so surprised. “I needed help, didn’t i?” you replied with a smirk, letting yourself look behind him and in his dorm, you could tell he was very neat and clean. “I know you said you needed help studying but I didn’t think you would actually show up.” he nervously chuckled with his hand behind his head.

“are you busy or something? because I can totally come another ti-”

“no!”ethan cuts you off but instantly speaks again. “I mean no, you’re fine, I’m so happy you’re here.” he says, daydreaming a bit but realizes that you were still standing there. “oh sorry, please come in.” he says, stepping aside to let you in. “my uh roommate, chad isn’t here so it’s just us.” ethan says.

“chad as in meeks?” ethan rolled his eyes knowing he instantly lost a chance to hook up with you. “I know, it’s such a coincidence that they put the jock and the nerd together.” he huffed making you laugh a bit which was all he wanted to hear. “but in all seriousness my roommate is nice, he’s just never here.” ethan explains.

“oh um I’m sorry these dorms are so damn small, you can sit on my desk and I’ll sit on the couch?” ethan says making his way to the couch, his curls bouncing with each step. “actually I think I should sit next to you?” you wanted to be closer to ethan. “oh yeah sure, you can sit next to me if you want.” ethan replied with hope still in his mind that you are the slightest bit of attracted to him.

“yeah I forgot my laptop.” ouch that hurt. “oh yeah you want to sit next to me so we can share my laptop.” he nods as the hope that he had vanished but actually you just wanted to be close to him. you move next to him on the couch, getting closer and closer so you can “see the screen”

as you got closer and closer ethan felt his cheeks heat up. “I’m sorry, am I too close?” you said with your eyelashes fluttering at him. “uhm no, get uh as close as you need to.” ethan says, stumbling over his words. after a couple of minutes of silence Ethan notices you shivering a little bit which made his heart swell up to the thought of your discomfort, it’s not like you can get anymore closer to him because you two were basically hip to hip. “hey are you cold- here let me just.” you felt a arm slide onto your shoulders making you warm up a bit.

“is this comfy?” ethan says, voice laced with concern. you nodded. silence washed over the two of you and you can’t bear the tension anymore so you did the unthinkable and placed your hand on ethan’s thigh, hoping you’ll get to your goal. ethan felt a hand on his thigh and instantly sucked in his breath at the feeling. “a-are you hands still cold or something b-because your hand is pretty close to my uh cock.” ethan stutters while staring at your hand that was close to his erection.

“I’m sorry, is this fine?” you replied, acting like your gesture wasn’t intentional. “oh no no it’s fine it’s just uh your hand is pretty close to my erection a-and I don’t want it to uh shock you- oh now your touching it.” he says changing the subject once he felt you actually touch his bulge. ethan’s breathing starts to change and beads of sweat starts to form on his forehead. you see his facial expressions and instantly think that you fucked up, fuck he probably think I’m some sexual assaulter.

“t-that actually feels pretty good.” he breaths out and relief washes over you. you start to realize what you were feeling was pretty big making your eyes widen at the feeling. “a-all that is your erection?” no fucking way. “yes all that is my erection.” he replied with a gulp of his throat. then without thinking you asked, “c-can I see it?” ethan’s face turns beet red at your choice of words.

“y-you want to see it?” ethan says in disbelief. you just nod, not trusting your mouth anymore. “um well I guess you can see it.” he says, slightly nervous. he’s nervousness makes you a bit uneasy but it clicks in your brain, “are you a virgin?” ethan instantly babbles words. “what?! no I’m not completely a virgin.” what does he mean by “not completely a virgin”

“what do you mean by not completely a virgin?” you say, making air quotes with your fingers. “what do I mean? uh I uh tried with a few girl but uh my dick is just so big that I could never get more than just the tip in.” right when he said that you bursted out laughing. “are your joking?” you laughed while ethan says “no I’m not joking- why are you laughing.” you thought ethan was trying to be cocky with you but he wasn’t joking the slightest.

“so im not a virgin, s’just no one has been able to take it all before but uhm you still want to see it?” ethan says with you following with a nod. ethan puts his hand on his belt but pauses to say one more thing, “just don’t laugh, m’kay?” ethan says waiting for a confirmation, you mumbled something along the lines of scouts honor then tells him to get on with it. the sounds of a buckle unbuckling fills your ear as you watch ethan unbuckle his pants, he lift his hips to shove down his pants but waits a little to pull down his boxers, he takes off his boxers, he’s cock springs out of his boxers on it's own, slapping the skin of his stomach, you stared in awe.

“don’t laugh.” he says but noticed your lack of words, he’s huge. “s-see this is why I knew this wasn’t going to be a good idea.” ethan says and start to pull his boxers back up only for you to quickly stop him. your next words blows him away (pun intended) “I want to suck on it.” you say without thinking. “w-well you’re more than welcome to- AUH.” he didn’t have to tell you twice, your lips wrap around his head, sucking hard as your tongue flicks over his weeping slit. “oh god, you’re so good at that.” he groaned as you smirk up at him, before your head bobs down

“fuck that’s amazing.” he whimpers as the sounds of your mouth and spit clashing together fills the dorm room, thank god his roommate was away. “please don’t try to- shit- take it all.” ethan pleads. you then pulled away to let him know you were going to deepthroat him and of course he insisted that you shouldn’t. “it’s okay you don’t have t- SHIT.” you cut him off by pushing your head all the way down until your nose nestled against the light brown bush at his pelvis. his whimpers and moans increases every two seconds.

“f-fuck i can feel the back of your throat.” he grunts. every once in a while he’ll let out fuck baby or take that cock. later on you went to the extreme of fucking your face which he really insisted on not doing because he didn’t want to hurt you but soon enough he complied. “fuck you like this, don’t you?” you hun in response, sending vibrations through his cock making him extra simulation. soon enough his moans turns into m’gonna cum’s but you instantly stopped.

ethan eyes shot open. “why’d you stop, I’ve always wanted to cum down someone’s throat before.” he huffs in frustration but you had a better idea. “I want to sit on it.” you say, boldly. “oh? well uhm- no it’s just too big, I’ve tried this before and it’s just too big.” he says but you were already in the process of taking your pants off. “awe no don’t take your pants off, this is a bad idea but..” he trails off once he sees you bra. “well I guess you can try but s’just- just too bi- gosh you’re so wet.” you we’re fully naked next to him. “um before we start, can I just play with your pussy first?” he says softly while staring at you. you were sitting next to him with you legs apart, slightly leaned against the couch all comfortable.

“here- why don’t I just stroke my cock while I..” he trailes off to slide his his head down your stomach and onto your swelling clit. “you like that?” he says after hearing your whimpers followed with a nod. “I uh had to get good this- playing with the clit, swirling, flicking, rubbing so just uh lay your head on my shoulder.” he says and you complied, laying your head on his shoulder while he stroked his cock and play with your clit at the same time. soon enough he begins to slip a finger inside, saying how good it feels. “are you getting close? would two fingers help?” you instantly nod before his begins to slide another finger in but you needed more. “more please.” you whimpered.

“uhm you can try to get on it but I don’t th- FUCK.” you straddled him and guided his cock to you soggy cunt, pressing him in. you pussy sucks him in inch by inch. “just tell me if it’s too mu- holy shit it’s going all the way in fuck.” he watches as your pussy takes him whole and bottoms out. he babbles about how amazing you are as you start bouncing on him with a visible bulge poking out your belly. sounds of skin and fluids slapping together fills the room as your tits bounced in his face. his hands comes around to grab your ass and hips like he’s guiding you. “gosh you’re so beautiful- fuck.” he says before his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“yes yes yes fuck!” you yelped but still being mindful that you’re in a dorm. suddenly you feel ethan stop you. “wait wait, can we do it doggy, I want to see my dick going in and out of you.” his filthy words made your pussy clench making him wince. you gave him the okay and he turned you around on the couch. he aligned himself back to your pussy before pushing it in. “fuck you’re amazing.” he mumbled underneath his breath as he bottoms out. he grabbed your hips to start thrusting and you were close again. “fuck are you close again? please cum.” he pleads, bringing his hand around to play your clit to simulate you more. “shit ethan fuck!” you yell into the couch pillow which was muffling most of your cries. after a couple of good, pounding thrust a wave of ecstasy washes over you as ethan walks you through your orgasm with his along the way.

“fuck I’m close.” three words he thought he would never say with a girl. after two thrusts he cums in you, cum painting your walls. “I came in you, is that okay?” he says whilst trying to catch his breath. you couldn’t speak so you mumbled an uh uh of approval. he then turns you around and pulls you in a long awaited kiss with his hands around your waist and yours around his neck.

“be mine.” he whispered in you ear. you grinned.

-

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let The Light |7|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Seven: Tis' The Damn Season

Summary: After that eventful night at Tara's apartment, you find yourself pondering on a few things, but your banter with Tara never ceases. There is enough on your plate as it is, so when you bump into a familiar face it catches you completely off guard

Warning(s): Swearing, making out, mentions of drinking & intoxication, r has a case of bad communication, chemistry (like the actual subject 😣), compulsions, & implied anxiety

Notes: I took over a year off to cut you readers some slack, tell a friend to tell a friend - she's baackkk! 🤭 Ik you missed these stubborn little jerks, so did I. Also not this chapter being at like 10k+ words. Even then, there was a bunch more I wanted to add but I figured I'd save it for the next chapter (already plotting) I didn't wanna keep you waiting any longer than I already have

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The box of pizza and plate of wings sat completely abandoned, forgotten, on Charlotte’s coffee table as her hands traveled to your neck. You let your own hands drop to her hips, pulling her in. Her lips felt soft, yet foreign. You ignored that thought and continued to kiss her, slipping in your tongue while she maneuvered her way onto your lap.

Everything felt hot, you could feel your face heat up as she ever so slightly played with the hem of your shirt. When you gave her the silent signal, she slipped a hand under your shirt—not too high of course, but enough to feel your hips. You felt goosebumps at her touch, suddenly feeling nervous. You once again pushed any negative thoughts to the back of your mind, continuing to kiss her. 

That’s when it clicked. Why you got so nervous all of a sudden, your mind was trying to tell you something, warn you.

You separated from her lips. She looked at you, a confused expression on her face. You weren’t meeting her eye line, feeling rather timid at the moment. “Are you okay?” She asked you. You barely heard her with your heartbeat drumming so loudly in your ears. 

“Um…” You cleared your throat, still not meeting her gaze. “Yeah… I just—sorry.” Charlotte’s expression stayed put as you managed to remove yourself from the couch. 

“Did I do something?” She asked, moving to also stand up. She looked at you with what you could only describe as confusion and concern. You couldn’t blame her one bit—one second you’re all over each other, the next you’re pulling back like she stung you.

“No—no, no, no,” you shook your head while gesturing with your right hand. “You did nothing wrong. I um,” you finally looked to meet her gaze, “it’s just been awhile, I guess.” You could only hope she didn’t see through your lame excuse, it wasn’t completely untrue. 

“Oh,” Charlotte said. “…Oh,” she then repeated when she realized what you meant. “Shit, I didn’t push you did I?” 

“I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve just been in a weird place  …for a while,” you shrugged, not expecting to add that last part, your tone getting lower as you spoke those words.

“I get it,” she mustered an understanding tone. 

A suffocating silence enveloped the room for a few seconds, causing you to look out the nearby window to be met with pitch darkness.

“It’s actually getting pretty late anyways and I’ve got an early shift in the morning…” You said while slowly getting your jacked that hung from the couch. 

“Of course. Call me?” 

“Yeah,” you briefly smiled at her while adjusting the collar of your jacket. “Sorry, again, for making things awkward,” you apologized while grabbing the last of your things.

“No, don’t worry about it. Stuff happens,” she waved you off while managing a reassuring tone. 

You nodded at her before muttering, “thanks,” and finally leaving the apartment. As soon as you walked out into the crisp night air, you exhaled your own pocket of air you didn’t even realize you were holding in.

That’s when it all came crashing down; the awkwardness, stupidness, and cringyness that came from the situation all because you were scared to let your situationship see your scars. 

Nice going.

You repeated words like moron, idiot, and dumbass while you walked to your car—the train of thought never breaking as you drove to your apartment. Manhattan’s late-night traffic didn’t exactly ease your frustration. You were in the middle of cursing out the car in front of you when your phone started to ring.

Still feeling ridiculously stupid, you were going to let it just ring out, but that was before you saw the contact name. 

You answered the phone. “Tara?” You immediately asked with furrowed eyebrows. Why on earth is she calling you so late?

“Y/NN,” you heard her slur over the phone. Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, immediately realizing what you were about to be in for. Before you could get another word out, she interrupted you. “Have I ever told you you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts?” 

Your eyes widened as heat rushed to your face, your hands nearly slipping off the wheel. The tips of your ears suddenly began to feel very warm while your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could get sound to come out.

“I—uh,” you cleared your throat before continuing. “Where are you right now?”

“Hommee. Where else?” Her answer was followed by hiccups.

“I’m coming over,” you said firmly before hanging up. Being distracted any further by her voice was the last thing you needed right now.  You silently hoped nothing drastic was waiting for you at her apartment as you changed your route.

When were you going to stop jinxing things?

—

It had now been a few weeks since the night at Tara’s apartment took place. Not long after you put her to bed, you gave yourself some time to reflect on her words. And ever since that night, you have been repeating them in your head whenever you were with the Carpenter. It seems as though she was able to move on easily, at least, her silence on the topic made it appear that way. On the outside, you gave the impression that you too had moved on from that night, that it had not affected you whatsoever. But on the inside, you were in emotional turmoil. With replaying your memories, that same tightening feeling in your chest that you felt that night reappeared.

There were so many key points of that night to completely crumble over; for starters, the incident with Charlotte. You are beyond embarrassed thanks to your repulsion for emotional intimacy. You knew if she saw your scars questions would ensue, thus putting you in an uncomfortable position to spill your guts out. The last thing you needed was for that to happen, but that alone had you thinking.

You’ve been on over four dates with Charlotte now and you have no idea where you stand with her. She’s just a situation-ship as of right now, and for all you know she could be seeing this as more. But the thought of asking her where you stand with her makes you emotionally grimace and cause your stomach to churn. 

If you can’t even talk to her about your relationship status, should you even continue seeing her? This question had you thinking even further. Maybe you rushed into this relationship, maybe it was far too soon. Was nearly a year too soon? 

That was the last time you were in a relationship, the last time you allowed yourself any form of emotional intimacy with a partner. But that was the result of three years, three years of building trust and connection. It was going to take a lot more than just a few dates with someone you don’t truly know to recreate that. It was going to take effort.

As for the Tara part of that night, you didn’t even know where to begin. Where could you? From her compliments to her insults, the night was certainly an eventful one. And just to think, you had seen her just hours before and there hadn’t seemed to be any issues. 

The coming semester is certainly going to be an interesting one.

—

You and Tara were in your apartment, huffing and groaning could be heard throughout your room. She sat cross legged at the edge of your bed while you were leaned up against the headboard. Papers sprawled all over the bed, pens and pencils scattered—almost imitating what the inside of your mind currently looked like.

“Was the first sheet you gave me—was it nine or seven?!”

You let out a huff, mixed with a long sigh, at Tara’s repeated question. After running a hand down your face, you slid closer beside her to get a better look at her paper. “This is table nine right here,” you emphasized by rapidly tapping your pencil on the spot of the paper you wanted her to focus on.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled, “Oh my god—” She turned her head to looked at you as she huffed, “Answer my fucking question with a yes or a no; was it a yes—was it a nine or a seven?”

You muttered a few curses under your breath—curses you knew she heard because of your close proximity—before taking your pencil to her paper once again. “Alright, okay so I’m gonna circle this—”

“What the fuck—?!”

“This is—this is nine,” you glanced at her for a moment to make sure she was paying attention. All you were met with was a dumbfounded look.

“But what’s the top??”

“That’s table seven.” 

There were a few seconds of her just staring at the paper and you looking between her and the paper until she said something.

“What?” Her voice indifferent.

“So I’m assuming you don’t get it…”

She turned her gaze from her paper to you, hitting you with a hard glare. “No, asshole. I don’t get it.” She then threw her pencil to the side and got up from the bed. Her arm brushes against yours as she does so but you choose not to pay any mind.

“I’m so tired of chemistry,” she all but whined before dramatically plopping back down on your bed face first.

“You’re the one that said you needed help,” you pointed out while curiously flipping through her notebook. “I remember wanting to stick with routine and work on our history project.” Her doodles are cute.

“So helpful,” she sarcastically remarked, muffled; she was still face planted on your mattress, right beside you. 

“I try,” you reply in a monotone voice; you were still flipping through her notes as you talked.

Tara rolled over on her back, pushing loose strands of her raven hair away from her face. She exhaled before clearing her throat—which didn’t get your attention, so she tried again …and again, after the third time she just settled for throwing a nearby pillow at your head.

You finally turned to look at her with furrowed eyebrows and a hand to the back of your head. “Um, can I help you?”

“Can we just start on the math now?”

“You couldn’t have asked that without the pillow to my head?” You asked incredulously.

“Do you have this, like, mental illness that prevents you from properly answering ‘yes or no’ questions—”

“Get your other notes out before I change my mind.” 

Tara scrambled over to the side of the bed, reaching over to grab her bag that sat beside your bed. She quickly wiped off a giddy smile as she took out her needed papers. You were neatly setting her previous papers to the side as she did so.

“Alright, what do you got for me, Carpenter?” You inquired while she scooted back next to you; you’re both sitting side by side, leaning against your bed’s headboard as you looked at the page of notes she was showing you. 

“This is basically everything that's going to be on my exam next week,” her stress regarding her exams was evident from her tone. “Some topics I’m good with, other’s I’m okay with, and a few I’m struggling with.” She turned to look at you, eyes practically burning holes in the side of your head with a pleading look. Pleading for you to help her.

After a moment of silence—of you intently staring at the paper—you hummed to yourself, nodding, as you finally returned Tara’s gaze before speaking. “I have highlighters; I want you to circle the ones you’re okay with in orange, and the one’s you’re struggling with in red,” you told her while reaching into the drawer of your nightstand for the highlighters. 

All you got was a brief, “Mhm,” while you blindly thrashed your hand around for the highlighters. When you finally got the right colors, you handed them to her before getting up from your bed which earned you a confused look from the other girl.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom. Don’t miss me too much,” you couldn't help but smirk at the girl, leaving before she had the chance to counteract. You weren’t sure if you were smirking because of your own remark, or if it was thought Tara was missing you. It definitely left a warm feeling inside of you.

She doesn’t miss you. She wants less of you, remember? Your head reminded you, causing that familiar feeling of your chest tightening. Your breathing was still a bit hollow from the feeling as you finished up in the bathroom and walked back to your bedroom.

“You finished?” You asked Tara while returning to your previous seat beside her. 

“Yes but I have a proposition for you,” Tara responded almost immediately. You stopped your movements, eyeing her with a suspicious look. 

“Lay it on me,” you said.

“We can continue doing all this,” she gestured to her notes, “—but instead we can do it in a place with food.”

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate, please.”

“I want to go to the diner nearby, and finish studying there. I’m tired and starving—and you haven’t gone grocery shopping in weeks so I already know there’s not much to find in your fridge.”

“Wait, how do you know the last time I went shopping?”

Tara ignored your question, instead continuing to look at you with those doe eyes of hers as she continued to plead. “Pleeeaaase, Y/N?”

You looked at her, feigning a reluctant look before letting out a sigh. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Thank goodness. My stomach was starting to make noises I’ve never heard before,” she said as she was gathering her papers.

—

“Done!” Tara announced in a cheery tone. You looked up from your book as she slid over the sheet of loose leaf she was just working on. “I put a star next to number three; I was having trouble with that one the most,” she told you before sipping her half drunken milkshake. 

You nodded her way as your eyes skimmed her paper. “All these are correct—including number three. Was there a specific reason you didn’t fully understand it?”

“Mainly the order of the steps,” she answered.

“I see. Well you were correct. But if you continue to have trouble with the memorization stuff, flashcards are great memorization tools. Especially colored ones. I can lend you some of you want,” you offered her while giving her back the piece of paper.

“Oh—yeah. Totally,” she chuckled before loudly clearing her throat and practically shoving the straw in her milkshake into her mouth. There was something that washed over her—possibly embarrassment? You couldn’t be too sure. But why would she be embarrassed? Sometimes you wish you could hear her thoughts, just so you could get some insight on what was going through her head during certain moments.

Tara stared down at her straw, subconsciously refusing to pick up her head until she felt less flushed. That was so embarrassing, she kept thinking to herself. ToTalLy! Goodness, Tara, she just offered you some flash cards—not her hand in marriage. Her cheeks got even warmer at the idea.

“You good, Tar?” You just had to ask with that painfully soft voice you get when you’re concerned. Oh, and why did you have to call her Tar? She still remembers when you called her Tar for the first time—you and her were in her bedroom after the incident at the halloween party. She felt her knees physically grow weak as heat rushed to her ears, and now she’s found herself in that same predicament due to you opening your stupid, occasionally sweet, mouth. 

“Hm? Great!”

“Um,” you let out a short, awkward, and airy laugh. “Okay, good, yeah.” Your eyes subconsciously took a quick scan around the diner due to Tara’s sudden volume change. “So anyways, from the looks of those problems, you’re gonna nail your exam. Just try not to overthink your answers too much.”

Tara hummed before returning to her milkshake just to realize she was all out. Guess she’s going to have to find another thing to distract her eyes from you.

You, on the other hand, were still confused. Did you say something? Why did she seem so timid all of a sudden? Did the flashcards somehow cross a line? If so, in what way did it? Tara was being a little too silent for your liking, which is really saying something considering how much you value your quiet time. 

You were about to do one of the hardest things you have ever done. Attempt small talk.

You cleared your throat, “So. How’s—how are you and uh Chad?” This finally got Tara to look up. She eyed you with a confused expression. “Like, dating and stuff,” you awkwardly added. Your palms were already growing sweaty as your leg began to bounce. 

“Me and Chad? Dating?” That’s when she bursted out laughing, handing over her mouth and everything. You suddenly felt like a total dumbass but you weren’t sure as to why. Were they no longer dating? Well obviously, if you had to take anything from her reaction. But you weren’t doing a lot of laughing when you and your ex-girlfriend broke up.

“Oh—I’m sorry, let me catch my breath for a second.” She literally wiped away a tear from how hard she was laughing before speaking up again. “Y/N, Me and Chad are not together.”

“You’re not?”

“Nope. And we never will be, never ever ever.”

“Never ever?” 

“Never ever.”

You couldn’t help the sudden wave of relief that washed over you, but you weren’t sure where it came from.

“But I saw you two kissing at a party,” you told her.

“Right …that. Yeah, I try not to think about that night if I’m being honest. It was honestly super embarrassing; I was completely drunk, so drunk to the point where I thought he was… someone else,” her voice grew a little quieter towards the end as she sank a little in her booth.

“Oh.” Was all you said. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you? That night was a misunderstanding, and judging by Tara’s words and reaction to the accusation of her and Chad dating—that relationship is long from happening. Yet another feeling of relief washed over you as you had that thought. 

“Yeah,” Tara shrugged. That’s when something clicked in her head …she could use this awkward discussion to her advantage. “Since we’re on the topic of dating, how are you and Charlotte? You haven’t mentioned her in a while.” And good riddance for that, she silently thought to herself. 

“I kinda ended that,” you nonchalantly answered before shoving a fry in your mouth. 

“Oh that sucks,” she feigned a sympathetic tone. “It seemed like you two were really hitting it off.”

“I guess.”

Tara wanted to leave it that, really she did, but she just couldn’t help but pry. “Something happened?” She asked you.

“Nope. Just fizzled, I guess. situation-ships do that sometimes, not surprising.”

“Wait, ‘situation-ship’? What do you mean by that?” Her question and her tone of interest had you looking at her with raised eyebrows, utterly confused for what felt like the millionth time that night.

“Like, it wasn’t serious. I wouldn't call her my girlfriend, doubt she’d call me hers. Nothing more than a casual relationship,” you responded, for some reason you felt the need to tread lightly.

“Didn’t you go on like five dates? If you go on multiple dates, that means you’re dating. Thus the word dating being an extension to date,” she sternly replied. 

“Alright, I understand the responsibility of a verb—why are you getting upset over this?”

“I’m not upset.” The pout she wore as she defensively crossed her arms with slumped shoulders told you otherwise. “I just—I don’t know. I want pie.”

“Okay. I’ll get you pie, but could we please switch to a different subject?”

“Fine,” she mumbled; her gaze may have been directed toward her napkin, but it threatened to meet you every second. 

—

“I can’t believe you finally watched it!” You exclaimed to Tara. The both of you were headed back to your apartment; it was dark out as it lightly snowed. You were holding the bag of leftovers, walking on the street-side of the sidewalk as Tara kept her hands firmly placed in her jacket pockets, protecting them from what felt like sub-zero temperature.

“I only avoided it for so long because of you!” She laughed.

“Wow, so you’ve been missing out on one of the greatest shows of all time due to pettiness?”

“Okay, okay—I said it was good, not great.”

“Ah, but you wanna say great. It’s that darn pettiness holding you back, once again,” you said as your smile never broke.

“Did you just say ‘darn’?”

“Yeah, what?” 

Tara only laughed as she shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Oh! You should watch the extended cut—if you thought it was funny before, you're gonna love the superfan episodes.”

“I’ll give them a shot,” she truthfully responded. She would say anything to keep you talking like this. One of the things she loved listening to was you geeking out over something you were passionate about. Maybe it was the sound of your voice, maybe it was how you lit up, maybe it was how animated you were while talking. 

“Definitely do—” You were cut off by a body colliding into you, causing you to drop the bag of leftovers you were carrying. You muttered a “sorry” before crouching down to pick it up. Tara was about to help until your eyes met with the other person’s.

“Y/N?” The stranger asked.

“Olivia?” You mirrored a confused look.

What was your highschool sweetheart from Woodsborro doing in the middle of Manhattan?

“Oh my gosh—it really is you.” Olivia laughed a bit as the realization set in. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit too. 

“Yeah—yeah, and it’s you.” You responded before she came in for a hug. Your movement stuttered for a second before welcoming her hug. She was still as warm as the day you met, her dark hair still holding its shine it did since the last time you saw her.

The hug was understandably awkward, but for once you didn’t mind awkward. “What are you doin’ in New York?” You finally asked her. 

“I’m here for this documentary thing I’m working on,” she said.

“That’s right—your documentaries. I’m glad you’re still doing those,” you told her with a genuine tone.

She grew a smile at the words you spoke. “Thanks… that means a lot.”

“Oh—uh, you remember Tara, right?” You turned and briefly pointed at the Carpenter who slightly waved.

“Yeah, I do. Hey,” Olivia said with no bitterness. She took a few steps and held out her hand to Tara, which the other girl took.

“Hey,” Tara nodded with a tight lipped smile.

“I’m surprised you two are out in public together,” Olivia joked. You and Tara both laughed awkwardly at your dynamic being brought up.

“Me too,” you joked back. “So uh—you staying long?” You asked, purposely deflecting to a different topic.

“It’s currently indefinite, I’m crashing at a friend’s place right now.” There was a glint in your eye that Olivia picked up. “Would you like to grab coffee sometime? I’d love to catch up.”

“Yeah, that sounds cool,” you replied; you were trying your best to hide your eagerness. 

“Awesome,” she grinned at you. “So, see you around?”

“See you around,” you said. You instantly began to cringe at yourself as she started walking away, but she didn’t leave without giving you one last look. As soon as she left ear shot, you let out a long awaited sigh.

“Geez.” The sound of Tara’s voice caused you to flinch, you completely forgot she was standing right there. “That was hard to watch,” she remarked.

“No one asked,” you said with an eye roll as the two of you began to walk again. 

“Someone’s bitter,” she replied. “Hey—” She put the back of her hand on your chest to stop you from walking as she turned to look at you, “Let’s go to my place instead.”

“Why?”

“I wanna finish these leftovers on the roof,” she answered.

“My apartment has a roof,” you told her.

“Not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“It's just not. Now come on before our food gets even colder and more destroyed.”

“I guess I’m following you,” you mumbled while trailing behind Tara.

—

You and Tara were sitting on white patio chairs; the same ones you recall from the last few times you’ve been up on the roof. The wind had calmed down since your walkover, snow still lightly falling from the sky. You were eating your fries as Tara was eating what was left of her pie. 

“I’m just saying, I could totally take down a bear.”

“Not in a million years, Tara. You, a 5 foot gremlin, versus a big furry thing with claws that could rip you to shreds? Be serious,” you deadpanned.

“First of all, I’m 5 foot 1, second of all, you’re really underestimating me here. If I can take down a sociopath while crippled—”

Tara didn’t talk about Woodsboro a whole lot, really the only time she’s talked about it—with you at least—was the night it happened, the party at Henry’s house, and just now if that even counted. She never seemed to name-drop anyone connected to that night. But you understood. You don’t remember the last time you said Dewey’s name out loud. 

“A sociopath? Yes. But last I checked, the said sociopath didn’t have the same physical traits as a bear—therefore, your argument holds no power.” You shoved a few fries in your mouth before silently offering her some, in which she accepted.

You glanced over at her to see her expression—she looked kind of disappointed. You sighed, thinking for a moment, before speaking again. “Okay, I’m not saying you have no chance. You’d still do some damage—and I guess it’s not impossible to beat a bear.” You hated the instant flip in your stomach from seeing the way she lit up, it was subtle but you’re grateful you noticed.

She smiled, almost grinning but she resisted. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Jump on its back, put it in a headlock,” you added with your own little smile.

“Exactly. You get me,” she absentmindedly said right before taking another bite of her pie.

“What a mad world we live in,” you joked while reaching beside your chair for your milkshake. Tara wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but she just decided to ignore it rather than dwell on it—at least for the moment. She looked over to see you sipping your milkshake and a sly smile appeared on her face as she began to lean closer to you, her elbows resting on her chair’s armrest and expression never faltering.

“You want something, Tar?” 

“That’s an awfully tasty looking milkshake you have there,” she commented; she feigned an innocent tone.

You glanced at her from your peripheral vision—she was on your left side—as you played with the straw in your milkshake. “Tara…” You all but sang. She hummed in response, her position still the same. “Would you like my milkshake?” You asked, but your tone hinted that you already knew what her answer was going to be.

“Well, I guess since you’re offering. Who would I be to pass up a perfectly good milkshake?”

“You’re a piece of work,” you remarked with a broad smile that Tara could describe as gleaming. 

“You’re the sucker who gave me her milkshake,” she sneered before taking a sip from said milkshake.

“I’d watch my tone if I were you, ‘cause this sucker could easily take it back,” you threatened, lightly laughing along with the other girl. 

She scoffed and waved her free hand, “Yeah right. I’d like to see you try.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You get up from your chair, eyes never leaving Tara. “I bet I could take it back from you, no sweat.” 

A smirk grew on Tara’s face as she also got up from her chair. “Okay, okay, you’re on then. Winner takes all—all being the milkshake.” 

“You got yourself a deal.”

“Okay then let’s do this, come on bring it,” Tara’s grin was just too strong to fight off as she lifted up her elbows; one, to use as a shield for her milkshake, and two, to use as her weapon. 

You let out a laugh when you saw a defense mechanism. “That’s pathetic,” you quipped.

“Oh, really?” She said with raised eyebrows. She then shoved her elbows towards you, both of you laughing during all this. 

“Oh!” You took that as a chance to grab her from behind and wrap your arms around her waist, holding her in place as she attempted to break loose; in her defense, it wasn’t as easy to do so while she was flushed against you, her face heating up from both the action and her ceaseless laughter. 

The milkshake dropped to the floor, but neither of you paid any mind. You lifted her up a bit as you spoke, “Not much of a fighter now, huh?” You quipped in a smug tone. 

“You are so playing dirty right now!” She said; her shirt rose a little bit and her hands were loosely holding onto your forearms.

“I don’t remember seeing a rule book. Just surrender and I’ll put you down,” you told her as if it was the simplest thing ever; for anyone else, it would have been.

“No way!” At her response you lifted her higher at which she started rapidly patting arm. 

“You finally surrender?”

“Never in a bazillion years!” Just as Tara said that, she felt a drop of water on her forehead. She furrowed her eyebrows, glancing up at the night sky. “Shit—I think it’s raining.”

“Yeah right, you just don’t wanna be the one to surrender,” you accused while adjusting your hold on Tara.

“I actually felt—” Before Tara could finish her sentence, a loud grumble could be heard as it started to abruptly pour. “I told you!”

“Shit,” you cursed as you put Tara down.

“We need to get inside.”

“Incredible observation. Thought of being a detective?” You quipped.

“Shut up. It’s freezing, let’s just get inside.” Tara was visibly shivering, wrapping her arms around each other while hugging them close to her torso. 

“Okay, come on.” 

Tara barely let you finish speaking as she started rushing towards the door. “Wait—! Tara, don't run! You could slip!” You tried to match her speed without breaking your neck in the process. You nearly sighed in relief when she slowed down. 

She looked at you with an inpatient look as she waited for you to catch up. You were in the process of taking off your jacket as you caught up to her. “If you’re going to slow me down, at least walk a little faster. I’m getting drenched, and this outfit isn’t exactly water resistant—I’m not water resistant!”

“Geez, alright. Quit complaining.” You caught up to her, trailing behind her as you wrapped your jacket around her. “Stop looking at me funny, just open the door,” you said in response to the lost expression she gave you.

She mumbled something incoherent while reaching for the door’s handle and turning. 

As soon as you stepped inside, you let out a long exhale while rubbing your hands together. You looked beside you to see Tara attempting to shake off the water she was drenched in; of course, as a result, she ended up spraying you in the process. “Do you have to do that near me?”

“Where else am I doing it?” She tightened your jacket around her, holding it impossibly close to keep herself warm.

“Whatever, I gotta get home anyway. Picked up a few extra shifts,” you said while double checking your phone’s dryness.

“I thought the cafe gave you off on Saturdays.”

“Uh, yeah. I do. I’m—covering for a coworker, I owe them so,” you trailed off with a shrug; you batted your eyes away from Tara, suddenly finding your drenched jeans very interesting. “Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you,” Tara responded; you made your way down the stairs but not before sparing a small smile.

—

It was the next day, 8:52 am on a Saturday. You had woken up around 4:00 since you had to get in around 7:00 to help set up and open at 8:00. Exhaustion was hitting you back and forth, the only thing that was keeping you awake, barely, was your few hours old coffee you had brought from home. Staying out late with Tara was really biting you in the ass, but you were usually tired these days so it wasn’t much of a difference.

Although it was slow since the day had just begun for many, you still found yourself dealing with incompetence so early in the morning. Truly, it was too early for this. If one more person asked about Halloween stuff, Thanksgiving stuff—any other thing they should’ve gotten months prior, you are going to bash your head into a wall.

Why are people asking their barista about stupid out of season decorations? It’s simple, the cafe wasn’t paying you enough; attending college and living off campus wasn’t getting any cheaper and you needed a reliable job. So when you saw that Target was hiring, you applied. That’s how you came to balance two jobs and some of the most insufferable customers you have ever had the displeasure of conversing with.

“I’m sorry miss, but we stopped selling that after October. But if you’d like, I can show you to the candy aisle—”

“No, listen to me, these are what I want,” she snarled while shoving her phone in your face; her phone showed a picture of the Halloween candy she wanted. “I don’t want regular sour patch, I don't want regular m&m’s, I don’t want regular reese’s pieces—I want Hal-lo-ween candy.” 

“I know that, but miss—”

“Can you just go check in the back? Please? My son has been driving me insane and I need to at least do this one thing right,” she begged.

You let out a silent sigh, “Of course. I’ll go check in the back to see if we have anything left.”

“See, now that wasn’t so hard,” she said as you made your way to the storage room. You rolled your eyes, choosing to ignore her statement. It really was too early for this.

You went into the storage and sat down on a nearby box; you just stared at the ceiling, zoning out for about a minute before heading back.

“I apologize, we don’t have what you're looking for. Is there anything else I can help with?”

She scoffed at you, clutching her purse as she did so. “No, I do not need your help because clearly it is no use. Your manager will be hearing from me,” she angrily said before strutting away.

“I’m sure he’ll love that,” you remark out loud to yourself. Once she’s out of your eye line, you let out an aggravated sigh. Working in retail is not for the weak.

You walked back to the end of the aisle and began to restock the shelves again, the thing you were previously doing before being interrupted. You picked up one of the boxes of cereal when your hand accidentally knocked something out of your pocket. It fell by your feet, you glanced at it for a moment before looking back at the shelf—but that’s when it registered what it was. You immediately placed down the box then kneeled down to pick up what you dropped. 

It was a folded piece of paper. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows as you unfolded it before you traded your confusion for a smile. You looked at the doodles that covered the paper, the doodles drawn by Tara. Her name was even signed at the corner; sometimes she draws her name in different fonts to pass the time. Over the years, you noticed her favorite font to draw is graffiti lettering. You were now standing up, still smiling down at the piece of paper. You always admired the way she wrote—

—Suddenly somebody clears their throat. You jumped, blinking rapidly while attempting to shove the paper back into your pocket. You turn your head around to see your co-worker, Avery, crossing her arms while giving you a look you couldn’t quite read. “Secret admirer?” She remarked with a smirk.

“No, it’s just—it’s nothing. Scraps, really if you could even call it that,” you stammered while trying to nonchalantly lean against the shelves. It wasn’t a total failure, you guess.  

“...Right,” she narrowed her eyes at her, clearly not believing your crappy save, but dropped it nevertheless. “Anyways, me, Vicky and a few of the others are gonna go out for a drink tonight; can I count you in?” 

You stopped leaning on the shelves as you thought for a moment. You usually weren’t one for going out, but it’s been a long few months. With that thought, everything that’s happened in the past year flashes through your mind. It’s been nothing but motion sickness, and maybe you could go for a drink or two. 

“You know what—yeah, I’m in,” you nodded at her before returning to the boxes of cereals that sat in the cart beside you. 

“Wait, really? You never wanna come to these things …damn it, I owe Vicky like 20 bucks,” Avery silently moped as she walked away. You laughed a bit at her comment as you continued stocking the shelves.

Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad.

—

When you got home that day, you made sure to take a nap before it was time to leave for the bar. When you got there, you stood at the doorway for a few seconds, honestly not sure what your next move was but luckily you caught Avery’s eye and she waved you over. You walked over to where she and the others sat at—the bar—you sat down on the stool beside Avery who was sat next to Vicky. You were surprised they weren’t sitting on the same stool with how tangled with each other they were.

“You made it!!” Avery shouted in a cheery voice that made you wince as she pumped her fists in the air. “Look, Vicky! Y/N’s here!”  Vicky nodded at the girl while trying to subtly ground her by rubbing her lower back.

She looked over at you with an apologetic look. “Sorry, she gets kinda loud and hyper when she’s drunk.”

You chuckled a little, giving her a reassuring shake with your head. “Don’t worry about it, I’m a pretty embarrassing drunk anyways so I couldn’t talk. Probably why I don’t do it much,” you told her while your arms rested on the table. 

“Gosh, I can’t wait to see you drunk,” she said while adjusting her arm as Avery was now resting her head on Vicky’s shoulder.

“That’s never gonna happen—just a club soda for me. At most I’ll do some watered down beer, but that’s really it,” you said. 

“Wow.”

“I know, I’m a party animal,” you quipped with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“Total rebel,” she added as you both laughed. “So, other than the fact that you’re a total bad boy—how are you liking New York?” She asked with Avery still wrapped around her who had snuggled up closer to her.

“It’s fine. Hasn’t changed much since the last time I lived here.”

“Yeah? Did you live in Manhattan before or someplace else?” 

“Brooklyn. I was born there, and lived there until …I didn’t,” you answered with your train of thought trailing off with your answer. So much has changed since you moved. What if you didn’t move? What if you never moved back? What if you lived in Woodsboro first? What if—

“—Did your family  move around a lot?” She asked another question out of pure curiosity.

“Uh…” You picked at the wood surface in front of you, suddenly feeling drained and exhausted. “ No. Just one time.” 

“Cool, my family moved around a few times. It’s a pretty hard thing to go through, even if it’s just once,” she said in an understanding tone. She looked back to Avery, smiling to herself as she stared admirably at the half-a-sleep girl nuzzled up against her. 

You glanced over at the adorable site before asking, “How long have you two been dating?”

“A couple months, but we’ve known each other for ten years,” she responded while pushing back loose strands of hair that covered Avery’s eyes.

“That’s a long time,” was all you could think to say. 

“Yeah, she’s literally my other half. I don’t know what I’d do without her.” After letting herself stare at Avery for another moment, Vicky turned her gaze back to you. “How about you—you seeing anyone?”

“Eh.”

“Eh?”

“I was uh, sort of seeing someone? But broke that off recently. Too close for comfort,” you elaborated for her while silently deciding if you should drink tonight.

“Your casual relationship get too intimate?” She raised an eyebrow before you responded with a tiny nod, she probably would have missed it if she blinked in the same moment. “Yeah, I used to be like that before Avery.” 

“Guess I just gotta wait for my Avery,” you half-joked, earning a laugh from Vicky. 

“I hope you do, she’s definitely a keeper,” she said fondly. She looked at you—your head now resting on your folded arms—and saw the distraught expression you wore, it looked as if you were silently having a debate with yourself. 

“Something up?”

You did a double-take at her, lifting up your head before sparing her a meek smile. “Just thinking, you know?”

Vicky nodded before adding on. “You need advice? I’ve always been told I give great advice.” Her voice was kind and held nothing but honesty.

“Sure…” You were hesitant to accept but you were also on the verge of digging yourself into a hole just to avoid decision making. To be fair, you often think about barricading yourself to avoid dealing with your problems—and oftentimes, you have actually done it. “So last night I bumped into my ex,” you reluctantly began, “and we briefly talked, and she mentioned meeting up sometime to catch up.”

“I’m assuming you’re nervous about the catching up part?” 

You confirmed with a hum.

“Are you nervous about being the first to reach out, the catching up part overall, or both?”

“Yes.”

She let out a tiny laugh, not unkindly, before telling you that advice she told you about not long ago. “This was all last night, right? I say, wait a couple more days, then reach out if you’re up to it, and then once you get that part out of the way the rest will build itself.”

“You really think so?”

“Promise, I really don’t think you should stress too much on this. And listen, if you’re really not ready to meet up with her yet, I think she’d understand. Either way, it’s your choice,” she told you before sipping her drink.

“That’s… really good advice. Thank you,” you complimented.

“You’re welcome, anytime. I did mention that I give great advice.”

“I said good, not great,” you said in a tone that hinted you were just teasing.

“Yeah, okay whatever.” Vicky playfully rolled her eyes as you smiled at your own taunting.

Maybe this was not as bad as you were making it out to be, maybe everything would be okay. Maybe, just maybe, things were finally starting to look up.

—

Things were awful. You could never have been so wrong in your life. It was one thing after another. First with the text; you had to just hope Olivia didn’t change her number as you looked for her contact—which you had to look for by number since your removed her name and photo right after your breakup out of pure pettiness—and it took you about half an hour to think of the right words to send, and as soon as you sent them you immediately regretted it.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

Next was when she actually responded. 

Y/N (4:42 pm) Hey, it’s Y/N. Catching up sounds cool, so if the offer still stands I’d love to take you up on it

(XXX) XXX-XXXX (4:56 pm) Hi, yeah offer still stands. I’m actually free tonight if that works? I know that’s short notice so I completely understand if you’re unable to

You were in the middle of revising your notes at the kitchen counter when you heard the ding from the couch. Your head immediately shot up, and as soon as it processed what that ding was—you ran to it, hopping over the back of the couch and grabbing your phone. 

You read the message over to yourself exactly seven times before impulsively reacting to her message with a thumbs up. After your response, you got another text from Olivia and the two of you made a decision of when and where to meet. 

Oh, how deeply you regretted your impulsiveness as you stared at the same outfit over and over again. That’s what came right after the communication part; what exactly you were going to wear. You felt ridiculous, you’re usually not like this—but that happens to be a reminder of all the different things Olivia brings out in you. Good and bad. It was like you were 17 again.

Eventually you decided on something comfortable, casual, it’s not like you were going someplace fancy. The air in your apartment suddenly grew to be suffocating the closer it got to the time you had to leave. You gathered your belongings; you gathered your wallet, keys, phone, headphones, and lighter, shoving a few of them into your pockets. Just before leaving you stood still for a second.

What could I be missing? There has to be something. There has to be something. Damn it, there has to be something! 

Your eyes wandered around your apartment for a good minute before you called it in. You patted yourself down while muttering the names of the items you felt in your pockets before finally leaving. You locked up behind you and let out a long sigh as you ran your hand down your face. 

When you got to the bakery, your heart was beating in your ears and you felt your ears warm up when you made eye contact with Olivia from just a few tables away. She waved at you and you waved back as you subtly gulped. On the way towards the table, you silently hoped she didn’t pick up on the urge you had to perish right then and there.

“Hey,” you said. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to hug her or shake her hand, something, so you just stuck with sending a small but simple smile her way.

“Hi,” she responded. She returned your smile as she looked you up and down. “You look good—I mean, you look yeah,” she awkwardly laughed, flustered from her stammering.

You returned a short laugh, feeling a tiny bit of the tension beginning to ease but not entirely, “You look good too,” your smile grew softer as you spoke. You noticed her eyes still wandering. “Didn’t get a good look last time?” You quipped in a teasing tone.

She shook her head as she tried to fight off the bright smile that painted her face. “I see you haven’t changed much,” she said.

“Well, me and change have never mixed well.”

“Oh trust me, I know,” she made her tone less monotone to ease the weight of her words. But that didn’t make you oblivious to their meaning.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your posture while you folded your hands and dropped them to your lap. “So, how’s the documentary going?”

“Just fine,” she said positively. “Still in the early stages, and you know how that can be.” You nodded along to her words.  It suddenly became awkwardly quiet. 

You picked at your cuticles, pressing harder and harder for that sweet sensation you craved, your gaze everywhere but at Olivia. That tension you felt before started to settle in your chest again, and you didn’t know how to cope. You just wanted out. You regretted agreeing to this. You wish you never bumped into her. You wish you never agreed to dinner with Tara because then this wouldn't be happening. 

Of course it goes back to Tara. It always seems to.

“You still do that thing with your fingers?” She asked out of the blue.

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at your lap to where your hands rested. 

“I don’t have to look to know. We dated for three years, Y/N,” she said.

“Oh.”

“And I can hear you picking at them from under the table.”

You suddenly felt small, slumping in your chair, and continuing to avoid eye contact with the woman who sat across from you. However, Olivia did not return this treatment. She sat up in her chair, placing her own hands on the table before turning them over to expose her palms. “Let me see your hands.” 

“What?”

“Show. Me. Your. Hands.”

 It didn’t seem like she was asking. There was definitely not a question mark in there. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small sigh that held aggravation. Reluctantly, you complied with her commands. She took your hands in hers and began to examine them, her fingers tracing down and softly rubbing against yours—you forgot how soft her hands were. As soon as her hands made contact with yours, you felt your joints grow weak and your cheeks felt too warm. You don’t remember the last time you held hands with her but it was certainly having an affect on you.

“Have you been using these as a chew toy?” She rhetorically asked, referring to your fingers whilst still examining them.

“Okay, they’re not that bad.”

“Yes. Yes they are,” she said with no hesitation.

She finally stopped looking at your fingers and instead at you. When you saw the worried expression that painted her face, you knew a line of questioning was approaching. “Are you okay?” She inquired in an unbearably gentle voice.

“I’m fine.”

“Which means you’re not fine.”

“Putting words into my mouth, as always,” you said in a low tone as you pulled your hands away from her.

“You really want to go there?” She let out a short exasperated laugh with her question, raising her eyebrows as she spoke.

“When I say I’m fine—I’m fine,” you said while leaning in and emphasizing your words by pressing on the table with your index finger; you leaned back against your chair when you finished speaking.

“Oh my God. You are literally so unbelievable—do you even hear yourself?” She looked at you with pure disbelief which only confused you further.

“What are you even talking about? All I said is that when I say I’m fine, I mean those words. How am I wrong here? I genuinely don’t understand,” you expressed in both frustration and genuine confusion.

“And what I am trying to say is you’re still the exact same person I was arguing with right before we broke up.”

“What?”

“You never want to talk! Listen, baby, I get you’re grieving—but you can’t just shut me out like this. It’s apparent that you need help! You don’t have to rush into it, but eventually—”

“Whether I talk or not is my choice! And I’m not seeing some stupid grief counselor, okay? Just because I don’t wanna talk to you about certain things, doesn’t mean I’m shutting you out—and I don’t need help! I’m fine. I’m just—damn it, I’m just processing. Can’t you let me do that at least?”

“You have been ‘processing’ for months! It’s time to—”

“Time to what? Move one?”

“That’s not what I was going to say!”

“But you’re thinking it. You’re thinking it just like everyone else is; my mom, my brothers, everyone at school—just leave me alone, all right!”

“Y/N, nobody is—”

“No! Everyone is thinking! Just stop, okay! I don’t need your bullshit sweet nothings, I don’t need some therapist, I don't need to talk about it—I’m fine!”

You and her could not even go five minutes without your conversation, or lack of, forming into an argument. And it was your fault. You were the problem. You couldn’t answer a simple question. Maybe you were hiding behind the fact that you didn’t know how to answer that question, or that you're trying to hide the answer from others. Either way, you always find yourself forming emotional barricades around you, no one in and no one out. 

“Hey, come back,” Olivia’s voice rang. You were pulled from your thoughts, blinking rapidly as if it would wipe away the memories you tried so hard to erase. She leaned in, her irritated expression replaced with a comforting one. “I know how mean that voice in your head can be, I know what it does to you—but I just want you to be okay.”

You met her gaze, your expression equivalent to the look of a lost puppy. “Thank you, Olivia,” you simply said. It was not much, but it still weighed in emotion. 

 The rest of the night was less intense. She asked about Blackmore and how it’s going, which inevitably opened the door to her questioning you about seeing you with Tara the other night, and you found out more about her documentary. The night was long and tiring, but as much as you hate to admit it, you’re glad you agreed to catch up with Olivia. And you would be a bold faced liar if you said you didn’t miss her. The wound is still arguably fresh, but it’s beginning to heal. 

You walked into the apartment, looking forward to changing into a pair of pajamas and binge watching some TV on the couch until you passed out. You have been studying non-stop for exams for the past four weeks, so why not give yourself a treat? Plus, this upcoming school week, you will officially be exactly one week from exams so you will be locked in. What does that mean? You do what you usually do but multiply that by a million, anyone who has known you long enough knows they’re going to hear less and less from you the closer you get to exams. It’s as if you completely shut down from the outside—actually, that’s exactly what happens.

As you walked inside, you yawned and rubbed your tired eyes. But as they begin to focus again, you notice a few blobs sitting in your living room. When your eyes are fully focused, that’s when you see them.

“Are you shitting me,” you expressed in a monotone voice while turning the locks on the door before throwing your keys to the side.

“No—no whining!” Anika immediately said. “You knew they were coming over.”

“I thought you canceled,” you said.

“Uncanceled.”

“What a miracle,” you remarked as you took off your jacket.

“How come whenever I have people over you have a problem with it as if this isn't a shared apartment?” 

“Y/N being an inconsiderate jackass? What a revolation,” Tara pitched in with a smirk. You looked over to deadpan at her and she was already staring back at you.

“Says the woman who still owes me a milkshake,” you wiggled a finger at her. You both smiled at each other before you turned back around to kick off your shoes. “You know what, Nik, it’s fine. I’m just kind of grumpy right now.”

“It’s okay, I’m sorry for not giving you an update,” she said, matching your own apoplectic tone. “You wanna join us? We were gonna play some Uno then watch a movie.”

“Uh, I don’t know—”

“Yeah, probably 'cause you’re gonna get all embarrassed when I wipe the floor with your ass in Uno,” the younger Carpenter knowingly instigated.

“Oh, excuse me? I’ll have you know I’m the reigning champ in my family—don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” you instigated back.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Alright,” your gaze stayed on Tara for a moment before switching back to Anika, “I’ll join you.”

—

“Tara is totally looking at my cards!” Chad shouted while shoving his cards to his chest like an elderly woman clutching her pearls.

“I am not! You’re the one who keeps leaning on my side!” Tara whined back with just as much passion, if not more.

“Okay—no one looks at anyone's cards!” Anika cut in. “Alright, babe, it’s your turn.”

Mindy wore a devious smirk, slowly picking a card from her deck for dramatic effect. 

“Boom, suck on that!” Everyone leaned in to look at the plus four Mindy slammed down on the pile of cards. Chad instantly groaned, immediately feeling a sense of regret for wasting his last plus four. He sulked while taking four more cards.

Now it was your turn. Tara was right after you, you had the chance to make her life a living hell. All you had to do was place the three plus four from your deck and you would double Tara’s deck in size and be one more card away from Uno.

You made a decision.

“Plus four,” you gloated regarding the single plus four you placed down.

“Damn it!” Tara made sure to glare at you while she picked up her four cards. “Just wait, you’ll see. I’m going to make my comeback.” 

“Whatever you say,” you said in a doubtful tone. As Tara silently cursed to herself while flipping through her deck in frustration, you couldn’t help but stare fondly at the girl. She always had a competitiveness to her that you couldn’t help but respect. It was kind of cute.

After another seven minutes, it came down to just two people; you and Tara. You sat from across each other, debating your next play while one taunted the other.

“You know you’re going down, right?”

Tara laughed at your words. “You have at least ten cards, I just have two more turns and I’ll be following through with wiping the floor with your ass.”

“Oh, yeah?” You said, unintentionally with a come hither voice. You leaned in, your voice lowering but the tone still the same as you spoke to her. “You keep that energy, Carpenter.”

Tara's face suddenly grew warm, her stomach enveloping with butterflies as your voice crashed against her ears. You leaned back against the couch, looking at your own cards as it was Tara’s turn now. 

Shit, you were in her head now. You totally did that on purpose, you had to. And what a dick you were for that, you knew what you were doing—again, you had to be aware of your actions. You must know the stupid feeling you give her, the way her stomach flips, how her legs turn to jello when you call for her. No. Focus. Come on, Tara. Lock in. Wipe the floor.

She cleared her throat, blinking down at her cards while processing them. It took a moment for it to click before she tapped back into her competitiveness and slammed down a card. “Uno! Plus four—suck on that!” Now she had just one card remaining in her hand, just one more turn and she would be victorious.

You smiled at her, your head tilted a bit as your eyes lit at the sign of her celebrating. She calmed herself down, feigning a calm demeanor. “Alright, it's your turn.”

You sighed. Well it was fun while it lasted, you enjoyed playing with Tara. It was entertaining. It’s nice playing with someone who can handle your competitiveness. “Uno, uno out,” you said while putting down your entire deck. You sat in your spot, looking at Tara with a shit-eating smirk with your hands folded together as Tara sat there dumbfounded.

“That’s—what, no, wait,” she furrowed her eyebrows as she rummaged through the cards you just placed. They were all green sevens. All of them. “How’d you—”

“Chin up, honey,” you teased, winking at her

“Oh you’re a real piece of work.” She shot up from her seat as she rushed over to a nearby closet. Your eyes followed her movements as you raised your eyebrows at her sudden actions. 

“You two finally finished?” Mindy asked but was ignored by the other girl. “What are you doing with that—can you like stop ignoring me?” Tara returned with a box of Jenga in her hand and the others trailing behind her. 

“I’m too tired to play Jenga,” Chad said.

“Good thing you’re not.” She now looked to address you, “You, me, Jenga—now.”

“Yes, ma’am,” was all you said as she immediately began setting everything up.

“What’s this about?” Anika asked you.

“Oh, I beat her ass in Uno—graciously so—and she’s being petty about it,” you shrugged.

“I am not being petty, I am unsatisfied. Seriously—how do you win with all green sevens?! Ugh, never mind that. We’re playing this and I’m going to hold out on my promise.”

“Of wiping the floor with my ass?”

“Exactly.”

“Woman of her word,” you say while getting comfortable in your spot.

Mindy, Anika, and Chad watched from the sidelines as you and Tara went at it in Jenga. There were many, many close calls, and few times where the other nearly flipped a table. You both tried to get into the other’s head while the other was sliding out their pieces, but so far no mistakes. But the tower was growing wobbly, it was getting late, and it was only a matter of time before that tower fell over. Now, it was simply a matter of who would make it come to that.

It was Tara’s turn, and there were not many places left for her to take from so she was forced to resort to an incredibly risky spot. You took this as another opportunity to mess with her. “Hey, Tar?”

“Kind of busy here,” she said—the block just halfway out. 

“Will you marry me?” You casually inquired.

Tara’s eyes widened and her eyebrows jumped in surprise. Her hand immediately faltered, dropping her piece as the tower came crashing down. Her mouth opened and closed, her stare averting back and forth from you and the fallen tower; she didn't even know where to begin. 

The others just remained on the sidelines, completely entertained by what was unfolding in front of them.

“Is that… a no?” Your eyes were almost pleading as you continued to taunt the girl, your millionth smirk that night threatened to show itself. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Tara responded as she squeezed her eyes shut, still processing what just happened.

“Not before the honeymoon,” you quipped. Chad, Mindy, and Anika could now be heard laughing, no longer able to hold it in.

“You can’t just—” She shut her mouth out of frustration, settling for narrowing her eyes at you.

“I can’t just what, sweetie? Come on, use your words.” Oh, this was fun. 

Suddenly you got a pillow to the face which only made it funnier, to you at least. “You owe me a rematch, cheater!” 

“Excuse me, I didn’t cheat. You messed up on your own devices,” you said while patting down the pillow and putting it to the side.

“You know what you did,” she said with bitterness laced in her voice. 

“I don’t, so how about you tell me? Tell me how exactly my words affected you; you know, so I can prevent myself from accidentally cheating next time.” You never broke eye contact with Tara; you enjoyed how much she was squirming thanks to you, maybe you enjoyed it a little too much.

“Next time?” 

“You wanna rematch, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.” This whole interaction had Tara blushing; she needed to leave, like right now. “How about I get back to you in 5-7 business days? Sounds good? Cool. Well, it’s late and Chad’s my ride so we should probably head home, right Chad?” Her words were rushed which made you raise an eyebrow at the sudden change. 

“Hm? Oh sure, I’ll just get my keys and stuff and we can go,” Chad said before going to get his belongings.

“So, I’ll see you around—buddy,” she awkwardly punched your arm in a playful manner.

“Um, yeah, buddy. See you around,” you chuckled at her awkwardness.

“I’m still expecting an answer though!” You called out as she made her way to the front door.

“5-7 business days!” She repeated back to you.

“I’m holding you to that!”

-----------

A/N: well that escalated, gosh, keep it in your pants R! 😦

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax@andsoigotabutterfly @ajortga

[weirdrandomtina]

Poppy character development appreciation post!

In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.

When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)

"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.

Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"

In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"

When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.

When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.

At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.

Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.

The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!

BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.

Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:

[joonipertree]

idea for the Boxer!Katsuki and Artist!Reader AU! What if, ON TOP OF a rly bad day w college and being overwhelmed w work, we lost our paints :( n we luv our paints so we cry, but katsuki’s there to make us feel better and get us a new set :3

Thank you so fucking much for this. Idk if you knew but I'm actually making a portfolio for art school and Ive been crying every other night because of how stressed I am and how much I feel like I'm a bad artist. So writing this was cathartic

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: Dom/sub undertones, reader acting out and Bakugo being stern, a peak of what kind of shit I want with older men hsjsjsj, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft katsuki

Katsuki was one of the last people you wanted to see when you're in a bad mood. And that might sound terrible but it's because you never wanted to show such a harsh, negative side of yourself to someone you cared about. You were very much a 'feel and then reappear more regulated' type of person. But Katsuki never let you go home on your own anymore, picking you and dropping you off even on days where he had something to do.

So you trotted towards him with a scowl and no energy to fake anything and he noticed instantly, his own concerned scowl mirroring yours.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." You said and opened the door, closing it a bit too loudly. You cringed at the sound but buckled yourself in and turned away before the man got in the driver's seat.

"You're shit at lying."

"Fuck off."

Instant regret, a deep inhale from your part as you tensed.

Fuck.

His large hand came on your thigh and you stiffened, all he did was give it a warning squeeze before pulling away. The message was clear. 'Watch it'.

"I'm not willing to discipline you until I know nothing horrible happened but you do know I don't like that shit from you right?"

You said nothing.

"Give me an answer, doll."

"I'm an adult."

"Yeah, you are. And you're a smart one that knows that we have rules. That I'd be taking you over my lap if you talked like that."

Tears pricked your eyes but you blinked them away, not willing to turn your head to show him.

He knew anyways and he dropped the subject, starting the car and driving off.

Katsuki pulled to a stop at a place that wasn't anywhere near your apartment. You were confused as he got out of the car. Your eyes followed him just as he entered a boba shop.

Oh.

A couple minutes later, he came out with a drink for each of you. You remembered when he said that there just wasn't any point of it, that it seemed stupid and too sweet. But pretty soon, he had his own usual order, which was just Brown Sugar boba tea with the sweetness to a minimum.

Katsuki gave you the drink without even looking your way, sipping on his own. You stared at it for a total of ten seconds before timidly taking a sip. The sweetness broke you out of your sour mood, eyes blinking as you focused on the flavour of your favourite tea. The boba was chewy and soft and it grounded you a bit.

Only after you took a sip, did Katsuki start the car and drive.

When you reached home, the apartment the two of you had started sharing a month prior, Katsuki only gave you time to take off your shoes and put down your bag before he had you over his shoulder.

You struggled, hitting his back and asking him to let you go but he didn't listen...not even feeling it.

And when your ass plopped itself onto the couch, your attempt at running away failed when he easily manhandled you in place.

"I'm not patient enough to coax it out of you, so tell me why you're upset. I'll make it better."

You wanted to refuse but the tears were already dripping down your face.

"I'm so bad at art. I'm so f-fucking bad at it. I don't-" you sobbed and his arms were instantly around you, pulling you onto his lap as you cried into him.

"There's so many deadlines and so many things I have to do and nothing is working. And I don't even know if I'm cut out to be an artist. I'm not good enough, I was never good enough for it. I'm gonna fail-- Katsuki I'm so tired."

Your boyfriend rocked you back and forth, giving you kisses everywhere he could reach, on the side of your face and your head and your hair. And you let the tears fall, hiccuping violently and sobbing without restraint.

"I even lost my fucking paints and I can't live without them and I saved up for them and I'm just doing everything wrong."

You let Katsuki envelope you, squeeze you and warm your inside as you let it all out.

When your sobs died down, Katsuki didn't stop peppering kisses everywhere. It took him a second to speak.

"I didn't know shit about art. It all seemed like fancy, time consuming pictures to me. Hell, even now I don't know shit. But when I saw your art, I felt stuff I thought I didn't know how to feel. And that was the first time I realised that maybe life didn't have to be as shitty as it was. Maybe things didn't have to be ugly."

"When we went to those art galleries, yeah they were cool and pretty but not gonna lie, nothing ever left me speechless like your art did. And yeah...I'm biased as fuck, especially because I thought that the look in your eyes was the prettiest out of everything. That sounds cheesy as shit but you make me feel cheesy as shit."

You had stopped crying, left drained and nuzzled against Katsuki while you looked for an anchor to hold onto. And he held you.

"I like seeing you paint the most though, I like how you focus...I like how you curse under your breath, I like how you grin when something looks right, I like how you scan art supplies before you buy them. I like your paint stained hands and your paint water mugs even when I've accidently taken a sip from them. I like that how you laugh when I do that shit. I love that look of pride you have when you're done and staring at it.

It makes you happy so even if I don't understand the point of it, it means a lot to me because of that. So, whenever that thing stops being fun for you, and really stops being fun for you, I'll support you if you wanna stop. But I gotta keep seeing your work, baby, cuz it's like the inside of your head and it's really neat."

You let a few more tears drop, sniffling and looking into his eyes. There was no ingenuity, only pure emotion. And you let him kiss your tears away, you let him pat your head and you let him make you drink water and feed you.

Because it was never a burden for him to do those things, but a priveledge.

The very next day, the same set of paints were in your bag. Brand new and untouched. Along with three different watercolour paper books. 100% pure cotton, 350 gcm.

With a note that said 'you're still down for a spanking for that shitty mouth of yours. Don't make it a habit.'

[luimagines]

He Realizes You Like Him Part 2

Masterlist

Part 1

Part two will include Warrior, Wind and Legend.

Content under the cut!

Warrior

To be honest here, Warrior has a warped perception when trying to figure out when someone likes him. Genuinely.

It was harder for him when he was just a boy and as a teenager it didn’t get any easier. Once the war had started it was easy to forget about it for the time being... that it until he leaned the reason for the war.

He realized that he didn’t like that kind of attention. But was that what happened when people liked each other? Was Cia only an extreme version, if genuine? Was she genuine?

He didn’t know. All Warrior knew was that he didn’t feel good when he learned about it and wanted to avoid it again if was within his power.

Now when he met you, he knew that he liked you. He tried to be nice and friendly and be your friend. At first. Then he came to the quiet acknowledgement that if there was a chance to be more than friends that he wouldn’t mind it.

But he had no idea if that was something that you would be up for.

“Are you gonna make a more or what?” Legend jabs him right under the ribs non to gently. “If you ask nicely, I bet you could ask for a picture. It’ll last longer.”

“Shut up.” Warrior swipes at him but it lacks any venom or power behind it. Legend dodges it easily. “They wouldn’t see me that way anyway.

That makes Legend pause. If Warrior was looking in his direction he would see that that Legend is not only looking at him like he’s grown three heads but also like he’s the biggest idiot in all of Hyrule.

“You’re joking right?” 

Warrior sighs. “Why would I be joking? We’re just friends... but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Legend takes a moment to let that sink in before he pinches the bridge of his nose. ”Ok. Wait, so when you see them, do you get nervous or excited?”

Warrior finally looks at the Vet. “I mean... I like their company. I wouldn’t mind if they were next to me all the time. I like them. I like hanging out with them.”

“Answer the question.”

Warrior coughs. “I get excited.”

“I mean yeah- but they also seem to light up like a beacon whenever you see each other.”

Warrior blushes softly. “I think you’re reading too much into it.”

“They literally hung off of your arm for the entire morning.” Legend points out. “They hardly give hugs, let alone attach themselves to someone.”

That gives Warrior pause. He’s right. Warrior’s never seen you step outside of your comfort zone like that- but you were also holding onto him. He was so happy by it that he didn’t even notice it as different behavior.

“They also laugh at all your stupid jokes.”

“Excuse you, I’m a comedic genius.”

“Yeah- whatever. But you’re literally always around each other. Don’t you think that maybe they’re willing to hear you?”

Warrior doesn’t reply.

Legend won’t stand for him trying to justify this to himself in his head so he shoves Warrior behind a bush, not caring if he falls to the ground harshly or not and calls you over.

You jog over and Warrior stays hidden as he listen. Legend seems to have a smirk on his face. You don’t seem to notice. “What’s up Mr. Man?”

“Are you ever going to tell the Captain about your stupid giant crush?”

“SSHH!!!” You jump on him and cover Legend’s mouth with your hands. “Shut up! What if he hears you?!” 

Legend’s gets a knowing glint in his eyes. “Is that a no?”

“Shut up!” You flick his nose. “I’m thinking about it. I just... I know that he’s... His past is something that’s a tough subject and I don’t want to make things harder for him, you know?”

“Coward.”

“I’ll punch you.” You glare.

Legend waves you off and you roll your eyes as you leave. Legend takes a step back and looks back at Warrior who’s stuck, slacked jawed on the ground. “Better?”

Warrior nods.

Wind

Wind wasn’t actually paying that much attention when Wild elbowed him non too gently in the ribs.

Wind looks up to swipe at the young man for the jab but he’s cut off by Wild’s mischievous grin and a finger to his lips. Biting the loud retort that sits in the tip of his tongue, Wind glares up at Wild and crosses his arms. “What?”

“Look.” He whispers and gestures vaguely with his chin. Wind turns subtly and looks over with his eyes. You’re look down with a slight blush to your face. you seem very concentrated. 

Wind tries to follow your line of sight and sees that your looking at his hand. He’s confused. Why would you be looking at his hand? Why are you looking at it like it’s personally offended you?

He opens his mouth to ask you what’s up when Wild knocks into him again. In The back of his head, he’s amazed that you’re so concentrated on it to miss all of this. Wind glares up at Wild further. “What?”

Wild looks exasperated and rolls his eyes. He takes his hand and hooks it with his other one, pointing to you afterwards. Now Wild’s just being weird. Why doesn’t he just say it? Wind doesn’t get it.

Wild seems to see that and drops his voice even lower. “Hold their hand.”

“Why?” Wind whispers in reply.

Wild face palms. “Because they can’t do it. They’re been trying to for the past fifteen minutes!”

Wind looks back over to you and seem to catch on that you’ve been noticed. You flinch and move away. It looks like you’ve been embarrassed to have been caught despite thee fact you weren’t subtle at all. Wind takes your hand before he can even think about it.

“Oh..” You say and squeeze his hand a little tighter. You open, no doubt to speak again but nothing comes out of your mouth. Instead you smile brightly and swing your hands together a little bit, clearly happy to hold his hand.

Wind still doesn’t get it, but he smiles back at you. You’re cute.

Wild jabs him again and this time Wind actually takes a swipe at the boy.

Wild is undeterred. He gets a face splitting grin on his face and points to you. He mouths ’they like you’ and winks.

Wind furrows his eyebrows and looks back to you and tilts his head. He’d hope that you liked him. He likes you too. You’re really cool and nice and awesome-

You let go of his hand and instead hold onto his arm. You’re purposely looking away from him but you’re humming a happy tune, looking at anything and everything but him. You’re face is still pink.

Wind looks back to Wild who’s only grinning wider and winks again.

Oh.... Wind lets you hold onto him with a slight blush to his face. He thinks he gets it now.  He means like that... Um... Uh-oh... What does he do with this information?

Legend

“What do I do?! I really like him!”

Legend froze in his tracks and back tracked the last two.

That was your voice.

...Who do you really like? Exactly?... He’s just curious.

“You talk to him like a normal person?” Your (assumed) friend (unhelpfully) offers.

You seem to not like the answer and groan loudly. “You know I can’t do that!”

“There’s nothing difficult about this. Just say ‘hey, I found a flower. It matched you. Here.’ Done.”

“You make it sound so easy.” You whine and Legend’s heartstring get stung along with it. “I really really like him. I don’t think he even likes flowers. He has this massive collection of anything and everything but flowers!”

“Then tell him you noticed the lack of- and you’re offering to give him the first.” Your friend sounds tired. Legend gets the idea that you’ve either been having this conversation for a long time, you’ve come to them more once for this sort of conversation.

“Why did I come to you?! This isn’t working!” You cry out.

“I don’t know! You’re making this more complicated than it need to be!”

Legend frowns and begins to unstick his feet from where he was eavesdropping. His heart sinks somewhat.

Whoever it is that’s got you in such a tizzy is one lucky son of a gun, Legend admits to himself. He keeps walking through your little village, taking in the little sights and all. It’s quaint and quiet. It’s lovely. He can see how it influenced you to be the person you are.

Legend doesn’t want to think about his own feelings right now so he decides to check out the local lake and go fishing.

He stays there, thinking despite the fat that he’s there to not not think about what he overheard. You seemed so nervous. He’s never heard you so high-strung Well there were a few times. It happens with the work that they do. But never for something as simple as giving a flower.

You must really like this person.

He put his cheek in his palm, not bothering to care if nothing is biting his line. It’s not like he actually came here to fish.

Someone pokes his shoulder.

He blinks out of his trance and looks up.

You’re smiling at him. “Hey. Mind if I join you?”

Legend’s heart bobs without his permission but he smiles back at you. “Sure, go ahead.”

You smile brighter and take a seat next to him on the doc. Legend’s eyes dart to where your thighs are right next to each other, but he’s quick to divert to the lake once more.

“Um..” You start. “Lege... Link...”

Legend nearly lets his fishing rod slip from his grip. “...Yes?”

“Here.” You hold out a very small flower. It’s purple with dots of white splashed around the edges. “I thought you’re like this.”

“...oh...” Legend delicately takes the flower.

“...I noticed you didn’t have any flowers in your collections.” You say quietly. You try to smile wider to feign confidence. It would have sounded natural if he hadn’t heard what he did, but now that he knows the context, it sounds scripted. You had to practice saying it. “Now you can start one.”

Legend finds himself staring at the flower then back to your face with a watery smile. His heart is pounding and he feels like yelling. He wants to take off running. Would it be too much to kiss you here and now? “It’s going to be my prized possession. It’ll be the star of the whole assembly.”

You snort, relaxing a little. “It’s just a little flower.”

“Well yeah...” Legend tucks  it safely away for safe keeping. He can never lost this. Ever. “But you gave it to me.”

Part 3

[hqbaby]

five — burn

fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader

you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.4k content. swearing, suna having impure thoughts lmao

“Rin, have you ever been in love?”

Suna chokes on his water, coughing it out as you burst into laughter beside him. He feels your hand come up to pat his back until his throat clears. He downs more water in an attempt to feel better.

“Didn’t know you were so against romance, Rinnie.”

He looks up and glares at you. “You can’t just spring questions like that on a guy!”

“I didn’t know it was a touchy subject!” you shoot back, still laughing. “I expected you to be all wistful about it, not to die.”

He goes over to the sink and rinses his glass out, leaving it in the drying rack before walking back to you. He frowns, wrapping an arm around your waist. On any other day, you’d call him clingy. “Why are you even asking me that?”

You shrug. “I don’t know,” you say. “I just wondered what it’d feel like. In case it happened or whatever.”

Suna’s heart drops to his stomach and he feels a lump begin to form in his throat. He pulls away from you, like he can’t bear to touch you right now. Like you burn somehow.

Weird, he thinks. That’s never happened before. Why is it even happening?

“You’ve—” He clears his throat. “You’ve never been in love before?”

You hum in consideration. “I thought I loved Tooru for a while, back when we were kids,” you tell him. “And maybe I did, I don’t know. It was so long ago, I don’t even remember what it could have felt like.”

“And… you think you might fall in love again soon?”

You look at him with an amused expression. “You’re being weird,” you say. “I like it.”

It’s like your words screw his head back on, the familiar teasing groove of your conversations reminding him of who you are and who he is. Why does it matter to him if you fall in love with anyone? That isn’t any of his business. You’re friends, nothing more, nothing less.

“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “Not like anyone would fall in love with you anyway. You snore, y’know.”

You jump onto his back and attempt to tackle him to the ground. You can’t, of course, he’s too strong for your sudden weight to even make him stumble. “Take that back!” you say as he starts laughing at you. “God, you’re such a boy! You’re so lame!”

“Not as lame as your sweater.”

“It’s a Taylor Swift cardigan, you asshole!”

“Oh my god, will you quit smiling at your phone? It’s freaking me out.”

You give Oikawa the finger, eyes still focused on your screen.

“That’s rude, Y/N.”

You hush him. “You weren’t even talking to me,” you say, typing. “You and Iwa have been all whisper-whisper with each other this whole time.”

Your best friend makes his way over to you and flops his body on top of yours, taking your phone away and putting it on the coffee table. It’s his turn to hush you. “We were talking about you actually.”

“Me?” you ask, trying to push him off of you. “Get off, man.”

He ignores you. “Yeah, there’s this party tonight. One of the guys from volleyball is throwing it—”

“Yeah, at Hinata’s place. I know this, Tooru.”

“What? Why? How?”

You put your palm on his face and push him away. “Your breath reeks!”

“It does not!” he exclaims, putting his palm over your face in retaliation. “Now, how do you know about this party?”

“Atsumu asked me to go—why do your hands smell like my lotion?”

“Atsumu asked you to go?!” Oikawa shrieks. “The nerve of that guy!”

“Well, I am kinda hanging out with him.”

“You said it wasn’t serious!”

“I never said it was.” You grunt as you slide yourself out from under him. “You should really brush your teeth.”

“I’m telling your mom that you’re a bully.” He pouts, crossing his arms over his chest. “So are you going to the party or what?”

You lean your body over his. “Maybe,” you say. “Are you?”

Oikawa looks over his shoulder at Iwaizumi. “Are we?”

Your quieter friend nods. “Why not?”

y/n the love of my life: see u ;)

Suna blinks. What are you even talking about? The two of you haven’t made any plans for tonight. Trust him, he would’ve remembered.

He takes a swig of his beer and texts back.

him: wdym

y/n the love of my life: just wait ;)

He groans. Maybe he did forget something. You were talking a lot the last time he saw you so it’s not impossible that he missed something (even if he didn’t because he obviously always listens to you).

y/n the love of my life: look up pretty boy

He glances up from his phone and there you are, phone in hand with a smile on your lips. As you make your way over to him, he can’t help but notice the way your skirt sways to match your steps and the leather jacket you’re wearing does nothing to hide the tight cropped top underneath. You take a sip from the solo cup you’re holding before settling in front of him, maintaining a respectable distance between the two of you when you realize that there are other people around.

“Hi,” you say. “You look nice.”

He smirks. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

You give him a little twirl, the fabric of your skirt lifting as you do. “Thanks.” You grin. “I just got this the other day.”

“It’s cute,” he tells you. He also wants to tell you that it’s taking everything in him not to bend you over and fuck you right then and there, but he figures that wouldn’t be polite. “So why are you here? I thought Oikawa banned you from the volleyball team.”

“Still banned. But he wasn’t the one who invited me.”

Suna furrows his brows. “What? Then who—”

“Y/N!”

The twins are heading your way, Atsumu with his arms open wide. Suna watches as you whip your head around to face the boy, a look of warmth taking over your features.

“‘Tsumu!” you say, falling into the blond’s embrace as he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Sorry, ‘Samu got the directions wrong.”

“No I didn’t,” Osamu says.

Atsumu nudges his brother. “Yes. Ya did, ya scrub.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure, I did. Totally wasn’t ‘Tsumu.”

Suna watches as Atsumu introduces you to his brother. He watches as you make a quip about choosing the wrong twin. He watches as Atsumu scolds you lightly and you apologize with a laugh. He watches as you all turn your attention to him.

“Ya already know Sunarin, right?” Atsumu asks you. “Ya met in class or somethin’?”

“An elective,” you clarify. “Pottery.”

“I didn’t know ya knew how to make a pot, man.”

Your eyes are on him, nodding for him to say something. He nearly freezes under your gaze. “Uh, yeah.” Suna chuckles, trying to mask just how confused he is by this situation. “Better at smoking it though.”

Atsumu laughs, clapping his back before putting his arm around your waist. “I’m gonna go introduce Y/N to the others.”

Osamu nods, taking his place beside Suna. “See ya,” he says as the two of you disappear into the crowd. He leans against the wall. “So that’s the girl. Huh. Wonder why she’d go for an ass like ‘Tsumu.”

Suna feels his mouth go dry. “What do you mean ‘the girl’?”

The twin looks at him with a raised brow. “The girl,” he repeats. “Y’know. The one ‘Tsumu’s kinda been seeing.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They’re not together yet, but I think ‘Tsumu really likes her.” Osamu frowns when he sees Suna’s face fall. “Ya good, man?”

He nods quickly. “Yeah, uh, I just need some air. Feeling a little sick.”

He’s walking away before his friend can even say another word, making his way through the sea of people and out the back door. It’s like his lungs are on fire. It’s like he’s burning. He thinks it might be the alcohol, but he knows it isn’t. He knows it’s you. Somehow. 

It’s Atsumu beaming at you as he introduces you to his brother. It’s you teasing the boy and him making you laugh. It’s Atsumu holding your waist—holding your waist the way that he does—and leading you away from him.

It’s all of that. It’s everything else. It’s you.

It’s you that’s making him burn.

notes. i'm gonna be honest, my real intention for this series is for everyone to flip-flop between suna and atsumu at all times HAHSHAHA we will never know true peace 😩 but isn't that so much more fun anyway ;)

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 8

Summary: The eighth part to iFall for Harry

You and Harry have your final phone call.

And you tell him the truth you've been avoiding since that fateful day in the diner.

Word Count: 3.2k

“So…what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you mean since I fled from the diner in a fit of dramatic rage? Not much. Just…picking up the pieces of my pathetic excuse for a life. The usual. You?”

“Honestly? Pretty much the same.”

You feel your heart flutter as you flop down onto your bed, phone still pressed tightly to your ear. “Yes, I’m sure your fabulous, glorious, and very expensive life is quite pathetic.”

“Maybe not that. But the diner wasn’t my proudest moment. Been picking up those pieces since you left.”

Shit. There's not enough alcohol in the world to soften that blow. “Harry…I’m so sorry—”

“No. Don’t be,” he interjects through a bit of static. “Seriously. I get it. I thought about it a lot after you left, and you were right. I mean, you were right to be…wary. I guess.”

You swallow thickly. “Still…I should have heard you out—”

“Wouldn’t have changed anything,” he says, once again cutting your response short. “Really, it’s fine. I’ve made peace with it. Or…I’m making peace with it. Right now. Talking to you. For the last time.”

Shit, shit, shit. The tears are already working their way back up your throat as you roll over onto your back and stare up and the ceiling. “I like the idea of us being friends. And I appreciate you for…offering to make space for me. I just…I can’t—”

“Really, you don’t have to explain. I get it.”

“No, I know, I just…I know you’re probably a good guy, and you’re trying to…make this work—”

“No, you said no, and I pushed you anyway. I even did it again, like…five minutes ago. Tried to make you do something you didn’t want to—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that I don’t think it would work—”

“Right, and I can’t change your mind about that—”

“It’s not that you need to change my mind, it’s just…I wouldn’t want to hurt you—”

“I’m telling you, you don’t have to explain. I get it—”

You huff. “Harry, would you please just let me apologize—”

“No.” His reply is resolute. Slicing through the phone until you bite your lip and swallow the rest of your argument. “No, you don’t have to apologize. It’s…a weird situation. You had every right to be wary and I jumped the gun. You don’t know me. You have no reason to trust me. We’re good, Cheese Girl. Seriously.”

Even still, your eyes flutter shut. “You being so nice and understanding is not helping me let you go.”

You hear a gentle chuckle. “Oops?”

 “Did you decide all this in the past five minutes, then? Because you were pretty adamant when I first called.”

“Kind of, yeah.” Some rustling. You imagine him sitting down. Because you can actually imagine him now. Put a face to the voice. To the name. The idea. “If I have to say goodbye, I don’t want our last conversation to be me trying to convince you to do something you don’t want to do.”

Your stomach wrenches. “Again, it’s not that I don’t want to…I just…I don’t…”

You can’t seem to force the explanation free, but your silence seems to tell him what he needs to know.

He sighs. “I get it. Really. Like I said, this is…a strange thing. It’s not a fairytale. We can’t make something work just because we want it.”

You bite the inside of your lip. “But you still think I should have given it more of a chance.”

A beat.

“Maybe,” he admits, and a tear slips from your eye. “But maybe you’re right. Maybe this saves us some heartache.”

Tell him.

The command rings between your ears as you suck in a sharp breath. It’s not the first time you’ve contemplated telling him the truth. Telling him why you’re so hesitant. Why you’re so nervous.

But even with all this wine…you can’t make the story come out.

After all…it wouldn’t change anything.

It’s too late.

“Tell me something good,” you whisper. “Tell me…tell me what the best part of your day was.”

He hums, and you wait. Changing the subject is the only way you’ll get through this phone call. Creating some final memories before you go.

“Saw a ladybug on my hat,” he tells you, sounding rather excited. “It was really cute. It rode with me all the way through town. We became buddies.”

You laugh through the desolation. “How sweet. I love ladybugs.”

“Yeah? Me, too. I named him Francis.”

“Francis?”

“Yeah. Like the ladybug in A Bug’s Life.”

“Oh…you a big Bug’s Life fan?”

“Yeah, why not? Pixar is great.”

“Pixar is great. That’s cute you’re such a Disney follower.”

“What can I say? I have taste.”

“I bet your millions of Twitter followers would absolutely love to know that.”

There’s another moment of silence before he snorts to himself. “I think they know a little too much about me already.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“Just…because,” he replies coyly, and you smirk, “I might have…accidentally…liked some porn on there and everybody saw.”

You gasp so hard, you nearly choke. “You’re kidding. Seriously?”

“Seriously.” You think you hear him grin. “God, I was so fucking embarrassed. I didn’t realize you could see what somebody liked on Twitter. Nobody ever told me.”

“So…you liked the porn and then what?”

“I…okay, don’t fucking laugh,” he begins hesitantly, and you feel yourself smile. “I thought if I just…liked a bunch of other stuff immediately after, like pictures of cute kittens…people would think it was a glitch.”

You bite back a laugh. “And did they?”

“What do you think?” he snorts. “My pussy plan was a complete and utter failure and to this day, my sister still makes fun of me for it.”

You slap a palm over your mouth to hide your laughter as Harry groans from his side of the phone. “Okay, then what did you do?”

“Well, what else could I do? I said, ‘So…the weather?’ and that was that,” he replies, and you can hear his amusement. “My mum threatened to ground me.”

“Oh, as she should.”

“Not for the first time, either. Apparently, I have a problem.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. There was this TV thing…I don’t know, basically I said pussy on national television, and she was pissed.”

“Oh…my god.”

“Okay, in my defense…I was being a good friend. I was telling him how much tail he was gonna get, and I think that was a very nice thing for me to say.”

“Mhm.”

“Oh, what, like you’ve never done anything like that?”

“Like responding to porn on twitter and saying pussy on TV? No. No, I can’t quite say that I have.”

“Shame,” he retorts, and you hear his gentle chuckle. “It’s quite liberating.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

The conversation lulls then, leaving you to listen to the soft breaths in your ear.

And you listen for quite some time, overwhelmed by the comfort you feel in knowing he’s there.

And overwhelmed by the fear that comes with it.

“His name was Nico.”

“What?”

Your eyes squeeze shut. “The guy I was being catfished with. A few years ago. His name was Nico.”

Silence settles between you as Harry seems to await the rest of the story.

“It was….god, it was so dumb,” you begin, waves of remorse washing over you. “It was back in college. There was this guy in my class that was kind of cute. I really liked him, and my friends and I used to…you know, giggle about it all the time.”

You hesitate, fingers curling even tighter around the small device against your cheek.

“Anyway, one day my friend told me that he wanted my number and had given it to her to give to me. So, I started texting him. And we texted for…shit, for months. All the time. Like…all the time. From the moment we got up to the moment we went to bed.”

 You hear some static from his end and feel slightly calmed by knowing he’s still there.

“I told him…everything. Everything. I mean, things I had never told anyone else. Not even my therapist,” you admit, voice dissipating into a whisper. “And…and we sexted a bunch, and he asked for nudes, and I sent them because I’m an idiot.”

You take a deep breath.

“And for some reason, it never struck me as odd that he never actually talked to me in person,” you continue. “Or that he told me he was too busy to hang out. Or that he couldn’t call and actually talk. Or that whenever we were in class, he wouldn’t even look at me. I just thought…you know, he’s popular, he’s a good student…at least he texts me. And I felt so lucky.”

Harry inhales quietly as well, almost as if he knows where this is going, and you feel your skin grow hot.

“Then one day…he ghosted me. Just completely stopped replying. Wouldn’t answer a single text that I sent, and whenever I called, it went straight to voicemail,” you recall. “And I cried about it to my friends, and I tried really hard to get over it, but eventually, I got so pissed…I went up to him in class.”

“Shit,” Harry murmurs, and your heart lurches.

“Yeah. He had no idea who I was,” you snort bitterly. “Introduced himself and everything. And I explained about the messages, and he was so confused. And then he took out his phone to show me that it wasn’t him. Even showed me his number. Which was not at all the number I had been texting.”

Another quiet stillness as this sinks in.

“Long story short, it had been my friend,” you reveal, the admission nearly catching in your throat on the way out. “Actually, it was a few of my friends. They thought it would be funny, and apparently, they didn’t expect it to get so far. But then it did, and they couldn’t back out. So, they went with it. For months. Through the sexting, and the pictures, and all the secrets.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, and you nod to yourself.

“Yeah. So…Nico was really sympathetic when I found out. He apologized on their behalf and said he hoped there were no hard feelings. Which was nice, but…you know, I didn’t know what to do,” you breathe. “The rest of the year, I just kept waiting for the girls to do something with everything I had said and sent. Waited for all the things I had told them to get posted on a blog or for the pictures to get leaked.”

“Did they?” There’s a certain apprehension to his question. Almost as if he’s nervous to hear the answer.

“No,” you say, rather relieved. Even after all this time. “No, they just never talked to me again. And I spent a long time learning to be okay with what happened.”

“But it wasn’t okay,” he argues, and you can almost hear the frown he must be wearing. “And you don’t have to be okay with it. I…that’s the most fucked up shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah, well…I can’t do anything about it now,” you sigh, reaching over to absentmindedly fiddle with a loose string on your duvet. “Anyway. Then I started texting you. And it was great because I didn’t know you from Adam. And it was never gonna go past a few cheese puns. And I had told myself that this is where I get over what happened. I make a better memory. I let the past go.”

He's quiet.

“And then you wanted to call,” you mumble. “And I figured, what the hell. Because if you were someone I knew, I’d recognize the voice. But I didn’t. And you sounded really nice. And hot. And for just a minute, talking to you…I forgot. I forgot why I was so scared. I forgot what had happened…and I had fun.”

He takes another breath, and you sink further into your mattress.

“And then you wanted to meet,” you whisper. “And I almost didn’t come, but then I decided that if this was another joke…I’d stand up for myself this time. I’d tell you off. I’d give myself a better ending. And then…I saw you.”

Another beat before you hear him murmur, “Shit.”

“And I know it wasn’t fair of me to assume the worst,” you tell him. “But I did. I saw you, and I saw a hundred and one opportunities for you to humiliate me. And I saw Nico, and I saw those girls, and I realized…I couldn’t trust you.”

You’re not sure when, but the tears you had been trying so hard to swallow are now streaming down your face.

“Not that I didn’t want to trust you,” you blubber. “But that I couldn’t. I couldn’t—can’t—trust anybody. I don’t know how anymore. And…and I don’t think that’s gonna change. I don’t know how to make it change, and that’s not fair to you. It’s not fair to put this on you when all you’ve done is try…try—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, attempting to soothe you through a softer tone. “It’s all right. You’re okay, yeah? You’re okay. You don’t have to explain, okay? I understand. I understand, ladybug, and I’m so sorry.”

This new nickname brings your soft sniffles to a halt as your lips tug up in a smile.

“I’m…shit,” he exhales. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m…I’m so fucking sorry you had to go through that. And I’m so sorry that meeting me brought it all back up—”

“No. No, it wasn’t you, I just—”

“Still, it was probably way too close to home—”

“Maybe, but I know you were just being nice, and—"

“Can you let me finish?” he snaps but you can hear the playful undertone. “I understand why you don’t feel ready to give your trust away again. Believe me. I understand. And I would never want you to do something before you were ready. Ever. So…thank you for telling me. And I’m so…so sorry.”

You swipe your knuckles across your cheek as you work to steady your breathing. “You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Don’t care. I am anyway.”

A steady calm echoes between you.

“Harry?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

“…thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not hanging up.”

You hear him sigh, and it sounds heavy. “I won’t hang up until you’re ready.”

Another beat.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

Your heart pounds.

“I’m really gonna miss you.”

He takes another breath, and you feel the hole in your stomach grow a bit wider.

“Yeah. I’m really gonna miss you, too.”

 You spend the rest of the night exchanging stories about your lives. He tells you about his X-Factor audition and his family. You tell him about your dog and your weird fascination with Back to the Future.

He makes you promise that one day, you’ll watch the movie together.

And despite the fact that you both know it’ll never happen…you agree with a giant smile on your face.

Hours go by. Until the sun is beginning to come up and your eyelids are beginning to go down.

You don’t want to hang up. Don’t want to let him go or say goodbye.

But the longer you talk, the more stories he tells, the more little quirks you become enamored by…the more you realize you’re beginning to really like him.

And the more you realize that losing him…just might kill you.

You’d wanted a happier ending than the one you got before. And perhaps this is your happier ending. Even if it ends in a dial tone.

Either way, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ll never be able to give Harry the kind of partner he needs. Or the kind of friend or confidant. Your trust in the smallest of things has been shattered, and with his life…you never know what might come out of the woodwork. 

You don’t know if those girls would come back to claim their five minutes of fame. If they’d attempt to blackmail you, or even worse…him.

You don’t know if you’d ever feel safe with cameras following you around or if you’d ever be able to trust that he wasn’t using this situation for personal gain.

And you hate that you wouldn’t. You hate that you can’t just believe him. You hate that your own mind is working against you.

But you especially hate that he’s been nothing but great cheese puns and amazing phone sex. That there’s so much more to discover about him. That he’s so kind.

And that you’re so…broken.

The soft golden streams of light slip through your curtains and offer you their morning greeting. It’s a new day. 

For both of you.

It hits you then. Letting him go—actually having to press the button—might ruin you. You aren’t sure you have the strength. You aren’t sure you can let these few wonderful things go and block him out of your life for good.

No matter if it’s the right or wrong thing. It’s the only thing you can do.

You haven’t spoken in a few minutes. Instead, listening to him recall his favorite spots in London. The soft, silky sound of his voice luring you deeper into your infatuation.

 You realize you can’t do it. You can’t be the one to hang up the phone. To tell him goodbye.

You can’t. Your tongue physically won’t let you.

So…you devise a plan.

“Ladybug?” he calls after his story has finished. “You there?”

Silence.

You are here. You are, and you don’t plan to go until he hangs up. Because that’s the only way you’ll ever do this.

You have to force his hand.

“Cheese Girl?” he teases before you can practically hear the smile slip from his face. “Are you asleep?”

Nothing.

Your pulse bounces against your ribcage like a basketball as you hear him sigh.

“I think you’re asleep,” he decides. Softly. As if speaking to himself. “And I think that means it’s time to go.”

Your eyes squeeze shut. No…

“In case you aren’t asleep…and you can hear me…” he begins as your throat constricts, “…I want you to know how happy I am that I met you. That you got my number instead of his. And that you gave me some of the best cheese puns I’ll ever hear.”

I’m happy I met you, too.

“I’m so fucking sorry for what happened,” he sighs. “And I’m sorry I couldn’t have…fixed it for you.”

Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.

“You deserve so much better than what happened.”

You deserve better than me.

“And I know you’ll find someone who can help you rebuild your trust.”

It should have been you. It should be you.

“Please take care of yourself, Ladybug.”

I don’t think I know how.

“And please remember me in a better light than the I-Liked-Porn-On-Twitter light,” he chuckles.

You smile.

“I will always…brie here…if you need anything,” he finishes, and your grin gets a bit wider, forcing a tear from your eye.

Don’t say goodbye.

“Goodbye, Cheese Girl.”

With that…the phone beeps three times.

And the call goes quiet.

“Goodbye, Harry.”

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

Next Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 9

Previous Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 7

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist (if I'm doing this right, and if you'd rather be taken off, just let me know!!):

@walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter

[sundays-wing-piercing]

Hiii Pixel again haha THANK YOU for answering my ask oh my gosh I am OBSESSED-also now I’m feeling shy about the first ask I sent…but I guess I closed out instead of pressing ask so it didn’t send haha, Classic me~

Anyways yeah DARK YANDERE!SUNDAY CONTENT sorry if this is too dark but you reblogged a thing about ‘corporal punishment’ Yandere! Sunday and it got me wanting to know your thoughts.

Personally I’m very much of the opinion he wouldn’t hurt you unless it was really time for his last resort to get you to behave yourself.

For punishments he seems more like the type to do something that’ll hurt and stress you mentally. Complete isolation seems like a good one. He keeps you locked up somewhere, he’s your only company, leaving you alone for HOURS on end, so it gets to the point where even though you KNOW he’s the one who did this to you in the first place he’s also your only friend now and you need his companionship like you need air.

But if it does get to the point where he actually physically hurts you I imagine the aftermath looks something like him talking so, so softly to you while you try to get away from him, but you’re too injured to really get far. He’s explaining it to you so sweetly, why he had to do what he had to do, what you have to do to make sure it doesn’t happen again…

I mean that’d be so terrifying…you really didn’t think he’d ever actually physically hurt you…

SO YEAH that was the first part of my ask~ sorry if it’s too dark, but I was just curious~

Ok I will get out of your inbox now haha bye~

YIPPEEEE YOU'RE BACK omg where do I start because that's exactly what I had in mind SHJAHWHSJWUEHEU but let me see what I can think of!! Honestly I fully agree with how he'll only hurt you mentally but let's say this time you really ticked him off. Perhaps he'll create a dreamscape filled with only your darkest of fears. You know it's just a dream but with you so shaken up you can't think straight. He'll leave you in there for a good while before "rescuing" you. Oh how the way you cling onto him like he's your only savior, your hero gets him all smily as if he wasn't the one subjecting you to such horrors. Maybe he should do this more often. What's that? No? Then you better behave sweetheart.

I mean who would dare repeat the same mistake after all that. Oh you would? Perhaps he'll have to get more physical. Damn this dreamscape thing is really convenient. He'll just make one so real you don't even realize how the pain is just an illusion. A dream so close to reality that you feel every sting or pain in your body. Every few minutes or so that felt like hours he'll check up on you to ask if you've learned your lesson knowing damn well your head is too jumbled up to realize what he's asking. Well you did ignore him, I guess he'll have to leave you in a bit longer.

This goes on until eventually he deems it enough and fetches you back to your little cozy home. Where he wipes off your tears, feeds you and tucks you into bed as if nothing ever happened. How can you not fall for such a sweet voice lulling you to sleep? His smile alone is purely angelic. Don't you just love him?

Well if you don't I sure do WOWEE THATS A LOT again do send another ask if you're not too fond of it THANK YOU FOR ASKING!!! You're always welcomed dear consider staying here longer or perhaps forever! He could always use a bit of company

[mountttmase]

Don’t Do This

Note - so this is the fic I thought I’d posted but actually never did 🙄not too sure if this is the right time to post anything but I’d really appreciate some feedback on this please 💙

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 5K

Warnings - smut and angst with a smidge of fluff

‘Last day huh?’

‘Yes Chilly, it’s my last day. You know this’ you huffed, looking at him as he stood leaning up against your door frame. ‘Have you come to help carry some boxes?’ You asked, batting your eyelashes in attempts to charm in into helping. It must of worked though as he begrudgingly rolled his eyes, but lifted a few boxes anyway.

‘Do you think I can claim this as extra gym work?’ He laughed, following you down to your car and packing it into the boot. ‘You said goodbye to everyone yet?’

‘Most people’ you nodded, your eyes fluttering down so he couldn’t read your emotions and thankfully he changed the subject for now.

‘It’s not too late to change your mind’ he teased, gently bumping his shoulder into yours making you laugh as you began to walk back inside the building.

‘Since my replacement starts tomorrow, I think it might be’

‘But Cobham won’t be the same without you. Everyone loves you here’ he reasoned, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You looked up at him with a questioning face and he laughed lightly, clearly catching onto what you were implying. ‘Okay well most people do’

‘It’s fine, I can’t be everyone’s cup of tea’ you shrugged ‘I’m not leaving because of him you know, this is a really good opportunity for me’

‘I know I know, I just wish he wasn’t such an arsehole for no reason’ he huffed as you made it back to your office.

‘That’s all of it then, just got a few more emails to go over and I’ll head out’

‘Well I only came up to say goodbye, so get in here’ he laughed as he held his arms out for a hug. ‘Keep in touch yeah? And I mean it. I’m not just saying that cause that’s what you’re supposed to say’

‘I know Chilly, I promise I will’ you told him, voice heavy with emotion as you said goodbye to one of the first boys on the team who spoke to all those months back. Taking you under his wing and showing you around, acting as if he was your work big brother.

You tried to get on with your final few bits of work but you we’re constantly disturbed by people coming to say goodbye, so when the clock struck half six and you were finally done, you weren’t surprised to find the building empty. Eventually you packed up the last of your things, taking the long way out so you could have one last look around the place before heading to the car park.

As you were passing the gym, the door opened to reveal Mason, the only person who hadn’t spoken to you today. In fact he rarely ever did. Your eyes met, both looking shocked to see each other still here before his gaze dropped to the floor like usual.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him though. He hadn’t been around too much due to an injury so you were unsure if he even knew you were going but you couldn’t tell either way due to his usual stand offish nature.

He looked completely different from the last time you’d seen him, the floppy locks that once made home on his head had gone, a pretty harsh buzz cut in its place and you hated the way it made your tummy flip. Mason seemed to harvest a special power in his hair, the longer it got the cuter and more boy next door he looked yet right now like this, he was intimidating but in the best way possible and all you could think about was feeling the back of his head under your fingers. The thought making you blush and you quietly coughed so you could speak to him without making a fool of yourself.

‘H-hi Mason. I heard you were back. How’s the recovery going?’

‘Yeah, fine thanks’ he nodded, chewing on his bottom lip as he still stared down at the floor. You wanted to look away but you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him and his new look or the way his features seemed so much more prominent now. His cheek bones lifted and the the red patch of skin across his nose that you’d always secretly adored was even deeper than before. ‘You off then?’ He questioned quietly, and your heart thumped at the sound of his voice as he finally looked up to meet your gaze. It was unfair how good he looked, the freckles that washed over the tops of his cheeks making you want to reach out and touch him but you stood your ground so you could give him a coherent answer.

‘Yeah, just on my way out now’ you told him and he nodded his head whilst folding his arms.

‘Well, good luck with everything’ he breathed but before you had time to reply, he was walking passed you and off to get changed. You were about to call after him but figured there was no point. As much as he was a delight to everyone else, there seemed to be something about you that he couldn’t get on with. Choosing to keep his distance and only speaking to you when necessary which wasn’t very often. You wondered if you’d done something wrong to make him be like this with you but he’d always been standoffish from the start.

At first you thought it might of been nerves, but once you realised he was only like it with you, you figured you just weren’t his type of person. He was never rude, always giving you a small smile if you saw each other passing in the halls and holding doors open for you if you were around but you wished you’d of got to experience the Mason you saw around other people when he didn’t think you were watching.

You eventually made it to your car, setting the last of your things in the back seat before getting behind the wheel. You went to grab your phone to plug it into the charger but after rummaging around in your bag and realising it wasn’t there you huffed, trudging back inside as you remembered it was still plugged into the socket next to your desk.

After a quick chat in reception to explain why you were heading back in, you opened the door to find Mason sat at your desk, his elbows propped up with head in his hands but as soon as he heard the door creak, he turned to look your way, his glassy eyes staring into your soul as you both froze, not knowing what the other was doing there.

‘I thought you’d gone’ he panicked, standing up but freezing again as if he didn’t know what to do.

‘I forgot my phone’ you breathed, pointing to it sat on the side and he gulped as he looked at it. ‘Why are you in here?’ You questioned softly, carefully stepping towards him but you could see he was panicking and you didn’t want to overwhelm him. ‘Mase, talk to me’

He gulped at the use of his nickname, one you’d never called him to his face and you flushed when you realised. He dragged a hand over his face before looking at you again, his eyes now a little harder now as he looked for an escape route.

‘It doesn’t matter’ he mumbled attempting to walk passed you, but you shut the door and stood in front of it so he couldn’t get past and his brows furrowed a little at he looked at you. ‘What are you doing?’

‘You’re not leaving until you talk to me’

‘You can’t hold me prisoner here, y/n. Just let me go and I won’t tell anyone’

‘As of an hour ago I’m no longer an employee, so there’s not much anyone can do’

‘Come on, just move’ he huffed, attempting to move you but you held your ground. ‘

‘No Mason, you need to tell me-‘

‘What’ he snapped, frustration pouring from him and he turned away from you to walk towards the window. ‘What do you want me to say?’

‘The truth. Why you were in here? And what I ever did to make you hate me whilst your at it’ you spat and he turned back to you full of shock and confusion as he took a few steps towards you.

‘I don’t hate you, why would you think that?’

‘Well you’ve never exactly been friendly with me’ you scoffed and he shut his eyes whist taking a deep breath at having been caught out. ‘I see how you are with everyone else and yeah you’re not a total dick with me but I know you avoid me when you can. Like this is probably the longest conversation we’ve ever had. It’s not exactly a nice felling’ you told him, a hint of hurt in your voice and you felt your eyes fill with tears. You didn’t know you were this upset by it but saying it out loud made you realise your were.

‘Don’t be so bloody stupid’ he snapped his eyes looking desperate and you were about to step out of the way but something inside you told you that you needed to know what he was doing in here. So you stood your ground even though you knew this might end badly. You knew he’d never hurt you but the crazed look in his eyes was egging you on. Thinking he was about to snap and you wanted answers. ‘What do you want me to say y/n? That I feel like a complete twat cause I couldn’t tell you how I really felt? That I can’t talk to you properly cause you make me nervous and I know if I spend time around you then I’ll fall for you? So I kept away from you cause it was against the rules? That I was sat in here cause it’s just hit me I’ve missed my chance and I wanted to feel close to you?’

You were shocked, your eyes growing wider as he laid all his cards on the table. Only realising he’d shared too much when it was too late. He stopped abruptly, his fingers interlocking behind his head as he turned away from you, muttering a a slew of curse words into the air.

‘If that’s the truth, then yeah I want you to say that’

‘Please, y/n. Don’t do this’

‘Fine’ you breathed, opening the door and stepping away. He clearly had some things he needed to work through and holding him hostage was just irritating him even more. You watched him vanish quickly out, biting your lip as your mood sunk even further. You didn’t want this to be your last memory of being here and you were annoyed at him for tainting it.

You grabbed your phone so you could get out of there as quickly as you could and not bump into him again. As soon as you we’re heading to the door, you saw him storming back in, his dark eyes set on you as he grabbed a hold of your face and crashed his lips into yours.

You became paralysed under his touch, his lips moving against yours but you were frozen for a few seconds until yours finally began moving against him. The sound of him kicking the door shut made you jump slightly as your hands traveled to his chest, feeling his heart thrum against your fingers but he walked you backwards until your legs hit the desk behind you.

He lifted you by your thighs and you squealed as you were plonked down, never once taking his lips from yours as he kissed you with all he had. You were unsure at first as to why you were kissing him back, but you knew deep down this is what you were longing from him. Yeah friends would be nice but you’d craved this sort of contact with him from the second you saw him. His new haircut wasn’t exactly helping the situation and with it seemed to of bought a new sense of dominance to him.

You moaned into mouth as he brushed his tongue against yours, the kiss still messy and desperate as your hands traveled down his body and dipped under his shirt. Your palms laid flat on his abs and felt them tense under your touch as he moaned into your mouth before pulling away.

‘Do you trust me?’ He breathed into your mouth as his hands moved to grip you at your waist before his lips trailed down your neck. Did you trust him? When you thought about it, you’re barely knew him but you were too caught up in whatever was happening right now to ruin it so you nodded. He smiled into your neck before helping down and moving you to then hidden area of your office.

That was one thing you’d miss about this office, the L shape of it meant there was a small section hidden out the way when you first walked in and you always used it to your advantage. Keeping a mini fridge and a small sofa there for cheeky afternoon naps. Currently only the latter was there and Mason looked ready to use this to his advantage.

You weren’t sure what was happening so you tugged on the hand he was holding to get him to stop and he turned to face you. His eyes were wild, his cheeks flushed as he started you down with parted lips. You were about to ask him what he was doing when he grabbed your hand before placing it on his crotch. You could feel him hard as a rock underneath your touch and you sucked in a deep breath as your heart hammered at the contact.

‘You have no fucking idea what you do to me, do you?’ He questioned, his voice low and rough, his words causing your thighs to clench together. ‘Like you said, you’re no longer an employee now, so we’re both safe’

‘Mason’ you breathed, a slight panic in your voice as it was now clear he wanted to fuck you in your office. He face softened at the sound, as he moved your hand away from his bulge and placed it over his heart instead, cupping your jaw as he looked at you intently.

‘Tell me to stop and I will’ he mumbled but you were way past that. The only thing in your mind was having whatever he was hiding in his boxers buried inside you, so you shook your head and he gave you a devilish smile. ‘Good choice’ he teased as you bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning.

He slipped his hands around your waist and pulled you in front of him so he could guide you to where he wanted you, his bulge now pressing into the back of you and your tummy flipped at the feeling. Once you were at the sofa, he pushed you forward again with his hips so you were forced to kneel on it, facing the wall as you held the back for support and you felt his hands dip under your top to stroke your waist.

‘Do you have any idea how many times I’ve imagined being locked in here with you, bending you over this sofa just like now and fucking the life out of you’ he growled and the shock of his words made your knees weak but you were thankful for the fact you were already being held up by the sofa.

Mason had only been in your office a handful of times in the ten or so months you’d been working at Chelsea, but you remembered the first time like it was yesterday. He’d come with Chilly and you were giving them a little tour. You’d managed to get the sofa in that morning so you were showing it off but Mason seemed in his own little world like usual however thinking back you could now tell from the flushed face and lack of eye contact that he was imagining what he could do with you on there.

‘Or how many times I’ve thought about sitting here watching you between my legs with my dick in your mouth. You drive me insane’ he told you, pulling flush against him as he spoke into your ear. You loved how rough he was being with you, but his hands were still gentle and it was sending you nuts. The thought of tasting him made your eyes roll back in your head and you were willing so say or do anything at this moment to make that happen, so you pressed back into him further which made him whimper and drop his head into your shoulder.

‘Let’s start with that then’ you murmured and he held you tighter and seemed to shiver at your words. He didn’t say anything else, just helped you back off the before taking a seat in the middle and standing you between his thighs so he could start to undress you. ‘Wait’ you said in a panic and he stopped what he was doing instantly. His hands flying back to hold up beside his head as if in surrender.

You quickly dashed across the room to shut the blinds, and then over to the the door to lock it before returning to him, a cheeky smile dressed on your face as he’s looked up at you with wide and nervous eyes.

‘Just wanted to be safe’ you winked before grabbing the bottom of your shirt and whisking it off in one swift motion. You heard him breathe out heavily and he bit his lip to take you in, thankful you’d worn a nice bra that day. You felt his hands grab you at your waist to pull you in a bit closer to him, leaving kisses all over your ribs as you attempted to get out of your joggers and once you’d kicked them across the room he watched his eyes flicker all over you. ‘Like what you see?’

‘Always have’ he told you before getting up to take his hoodie and top off together. You looked at him in awe as he moved, the muscles flexing under his skin making you feel hot all over, his prominent collar bones and bulging arms making you want you reach out and kiss all over his body. ‘Like what you see?’ he winked, repeating your words before tugging his joggers off too and you waited till he was up looking at you again before answering.

‘Always have’

With that, his lips were on you again, and you could feel his burning skin touching yours causing you to whimper into his mouth. He pulled off you with a smile, your lip between his teeth and it snapped back into place as he let go.

‘Sit down for me’ you whispered seductively, pushing on his chest lightly so he’d collapse onto the sofa before you could straddle his thighs and bring him in for another heated kiss. The feel of his hands on your skin was driving you wild and it wasn’t long before you were pushing yourself up so you could slip between his legs.

‘Y/n, are you sure?’ You heard Mason whisper as you reached up to the waistband of his boxers in order to free him.

‘I’m sure’ you told him and you watched him gulp as he lifted his hips to help you out, his impressive length slapping against his abdomen made your mouth water and you couldn’t wait to give him what he wanted.

All thoughts of arguments or not getting on we’re out the window as you took a hold of him in your hand, the breathy moan tumbling from his lips only spurring you on as you finally wrapped your lips around him.

‘Jesus Christ, y/n’ he whimpered, his hands trying to fist the sofa cushions but he couldn’t get a grip on anything. In the end you took his hands and placed them on your head so he could lace his fingers through your hair and he waisted no time in doing just that. He didn’t try and move your head at all, just kept your hair out of the way as you slowly took him in deeper, feeling his thigh muscles flutter under your fingers. ‘Fuck you’re so good at that’

You slowly pulled off of him whilst your hand took over, pumping him lazily as you looked up at him through your lashes. He looked so beautiful, his pouty lips were slightly parted and he started down at you, the bridge of his nose and cheeks a healthy pink and it was only getting deeper the more you turned him on.

‘Please’ he whispered, his hips bucking up into your hand you you smiled at him lightly. ‘Please baby, I need to feel your mouth around me’

You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head before leaning forward to take him back in your mouth, your eyes on him the whole time and you could tell he was struggling to keep his composure as you tried you hardest to make him feel good, but he next time you were coming back up for air he was pushing you off of him so he could help you up.

‘Kneel back up here for me’ he whispered, planting your knees on on the cushions as he jumped up and settled behind you. He gripped the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down until they were halfway down your thighs before getting on his knees behind you. ‘You’re dripping’ he laughed before you heard him let out a breath, licking one long stripe against you whilst moaning and kissing over the backs of your thighs but a knock on the door made you both stop in your tracks.

Panicked, you both froze in silence. Breaths held in as you waited for a sign to move and the eventual sound of footsteps retreating made you let your breath out and look down to Mason with a panicked expression.

‘Mason-’

‘I know I know. But I’m not leaving here without fucking you. We’ll be quick yeah’ he told you, standing up and gripping your bum so he could spread you out a little further for him. ‘Just relax’ He didn’t give you a chance to protest, not that you were planning on it, pushing himself in and out of you slowly until you started to moan a bit louder and he picked his pace up.

‘God Mase, keep going’ you breathed gripping onto the back of the sofa for dear life before he pulled you up and against his body, on arm around your waist and the other dipping in between your legs so he could tease your clit and get you further along the line.

You had nothing to hold onto eventually throwing your arm back to grip the back of his head whilst you held onto his other arm as he ploughed into you as quick as he could. It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first time with Mason, not that you ever thought there would be one, but he was hot and sweaty and you were more turned on than you ever could remember being. Drops of sweat dripping down your skin as his lips placed heavy kisses on your neck.

‘Come on baby, I need you to cum for me. I promise next time I’ll go slower’ he groaned, but you didn’t need much more convincing, the promise of next time tipping you over the edge and the feel of you pulsing around him made Mason finish just seconds after, his head buried in your neck as he tried to stifle his moans but you relished them, secretly proud that you could make him feel that way. ‘Right, plan of action. We quickly get dressed, you leave the way you came and I’ll head the long way round and leave out the side door yeah? Then I’ll meet you in the car park’

‘What if they ask what took me so long?’

‘I don’t know, say you had to take a personal call or something. That’s why the door was locked’

‘You’re sneaky’ you laughed but it quickly turned into a gasp as he started pulling out of you, wiping you clean with his boxers before putting his joggers back on with nothing underneath. You got dressed as quickly as you could, adjusting your hair in the reflection in the window before you both set off. Mason giving you a quick kiss before you went your separate ways and you fretted the whole way back about lying to the reception staff to the point your face was blood red by the time you got there.

Thankfully they believed your story, giving you one final good bye before you you raced back to your car. Mason already putting his stuff in his boot a few cars down but he soon wondered over to see you.

‘Do you wanna follow me back to mine maybe? Unless you have plans or something?’

‘No I’d like that’ you smiled, nudging his shoulder gently before you both got into your cars and drove off. Thankfully Mason lived a lot closer than you did and you parked up next to his car when you arrived before he took you inside. There was big smile on his face as he walked you through to the kitchen and you felt yourself being a little awkward about everything. Just over an hour ago the boy in front of you couldn’t bare to be around you and now you were at his house after you’d had a quickie your old office. You were overwhelmed and he picked up on it pretty quickly, directing you over the the sofa and sitting down facing you so you could speak but nothing seemed to be coming out of your mouth.

‘Is everything okay?’ He asked tentatively

‘Yeah sorry just a bit overwhelmed’ you laughed. ‘We seem to of gone from 1 to 100 pretty quickly’

‘Yeah I guess I’ve got some explaining to do’ he chuckled, brushing his hand over the top of his head and you had to restrain yourself so you didn’t reach out and touch it too.

‘Did I ever do anything to-‘

‘No no’ he interrupted, tentatively reaching for your hand and you let him link your fingers together.

‘What happened then?’

‘I didn’t mean it’ he whispered, cautiously getting closer to you until he was sat right next to you. You heart was hammering and you willed your tears to stay in your eyes. His other hand touched your arm as if to comfort you as he let out a soft sigh, your eyes searching his sad ones to figure out what you should say to each other. ‘Sorry, y/n. It was never intentional. I’d hate for you to think I didn’t like you cause I do’ he told you softly, almost as if he was admitting it to himself as well as you and in return you offered him a small smile. ‘I think it’s just I didn’t want you to like me’

‘Why not?’

‘Cause I knew if you did then I wouldn’t be able to keep away from you and I didn’t want to jeopardise anything for you. I know you love your job and you’re so good at it so I didn’t want to be the reason you didn’t have it. Seems like that’s happening anyway though’ he sighed in disappointment as he rubbed circles in your hand. ‘I feel like I drove you away’

‘You’re not why i left, Mase’ you told him, cupping his jaw to hopefully get him to look at you and you felt your heart hammer when he finally did. His dark brown orbs staring straight through to your soul and you both gave each other a small smile. ‘I’m only up the road. And it’s not like it’s another football team. I’m still a Chelsea girl’

‘I guess I could learn to like cricket’ he huffed, pulling you into his lap where you both just sat in each others arms for a little while. Finally gaining the courage to reach up and brush your hand over the back of his head, feeling just the way you imagined it would and you smiled as you heard him hum into your neck. You chuckled when you saw the dimple pop in his cheek, thinking this was probably the first time you’d been the reason for it.

‘Hey, Mase? Why did you cut all your hair off?’

‘I get hot in the summer if it’s too long’ he laughed before looking at you shyly. ‘Why, do you not like it?’

‘Quite the opposite, I think it’s very sexy’ you winked, causing him to blush and look away before turning back to you with a sparkle in his eye.

‘Is that so?’ He asked and you just nodded whilst biting your lip seductively. ‘How about I take you upstairs and show you how sexy I’ve always found you? Properly this time, I barely got to taste you before’ he whispered against your lips, drawing circles on your thigh and even though you’d had him not that long ago you were itching for more so you nodded before kissing him quickly to let him know you were ready. He surprised you by throwing you over his shoulder, your laugh ringing throughout his halls as he made his way up to his room.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you thought as it really helps motivate me to want to write more 🩷

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Hard on Myself

Pairing: EddiexFemReader

Summary: This was a request

Can you make another rockstar!eddie where they just had a baby and the reader goes to one of his shows with the baby to see her daddy and she gets dressed up but reader still has a bit of post partum body and the fan girls see it and shame on her and reader declines eddies touches and works out and later eddie finds out and she breaks down and they make love? :)

18+ only

“Hey, I just got Cadence down to sleep,” Eddie murmured in your ear as he slid up behind you in the hotel room, his hands holding onto your arms. “We should take advantage of the alone time.” Those hands slid down your arms and the minute they touched your waist you shot away from him, like a firework jetting off into the sky. 

“Actually, I was going to go workout,” you offered with a strained smile. 

You had brought the baby to Eddie’s show three nights ago, wanting to surprise him. Stella, Gareth’s girlfriend, had stayed with the baby on the tour bus while you watched the concert. You didn’t want to subject your ten week old’s ears to the deafening music. You had been so excited, putting on a red dress that Eddie had always loved on you. It had been a little tighter than usual and yeah, you had a little pooch in your middle and you had to wear a good bra because breastfeeding was not doing anything great for your boobs, but you’d just had a baby. You decided to wear it anyway, wanting to look perfect for your husband. 

But then the comments began, fangirls all around noticing you, knowing exactly who you were. Considering Rolling Stone had done a feature on the band and their families, with you and Eddie right on the cover, it didn’t surprise you that they recognized you as his wife. What did surprise you was what you heard them saying. You could still hear the razor sharp digs at you now. 

“How long does she think she’s going to keep him around if she doesn’t lose that baby weight?”

“Ugh…how has he not left her yet? She’s delusional if she thinks he’s sticking around.”

“She looks like a whale in that dress. Why would she even think she should wear that?”

“Oh my god, why does she still look pregnant? Didn’t she have that baby weeks ago?”

“Ladies, we need to get backstage. If that’s what he’s coming home to, Eddie will jump at the chance to be with a girl who actually takes care of herself. He deserves so much hotter than lard-ass over there.”

“Damn, has she ever met a donut she didn’t eat?”

Tears stung your eyes but you swallowed hard, forcing them back, refusing to cry in front of Eddie. You couldn’t let him see how much those remarks had hurt. You didn’t want him to feel bad. You had signed on for this life. You had agreed to stick by him as she sought out his rockstar dreams and now that it was happening, you couldn’t do anything to ruin it for him. 

But you couldn’t help wondering if they were right. You knew you should work out, but it was so hard when you barely felt human anymore. Cadence was perfect, but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a solid night’s sleep. Your brain felt foggy, everything coated in a mist that made it difficult to know where you were or what you were supposed to be doing at the moment. You were exhausted all the time. You barely had the energy to shower, let alone work out. 

“Sweetheart, didn’t you already work out this morning?” asked Eddie. 

“Yeah, but I feel like getting another one in and the hotel gym is so nice. I don’t have time to do this back home when it’s just me and it feels good. I mean, Cadence is twelve weeks old. I should be getting this baby weight off. The doctor gave me the all clear.”

Eddie stepped into you, resting his hands on his hips, his eyes moving up and down your body, “I don’t see anything that needs fixing. You look perfect.” Those soft, brown eyes searched yours, as if he could see into your mind, what you were thinking. “And princess, if this matters to you, then I will support you but I’m also worried. You worked out three times yesterday and now you’re talking about a second time today. You just had a baby. Don’t overdo it.”

Sighing, you backed away from him, holding your hands in front of you, “Eddie, I’m fine. The doctor said working out was fine. It’s been twelve weeks since I had her. You’re acting like I just gave birth yesterday.”

“I’m not saying you just gave birth yesterday but you’re a brand new mom. Cut yourself some slack. It just seems like you’re suddenly a bit obsessive about working out. I don’t want to find you passed out in the hotel gym.”

“Jesus, Eddie, just let it go. I’m not going to pass out in the gym. Just watch our daughter, something you never have to do since you’re out being a rockstar. I just want a little goddamn time to myself, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

Eddie’s head reared back in shock, those eyes flashing instantly from soft and warm to hard and disbelieving, “You signed up for this life. You told me you were okay with this when we decided to go for it. I can’t help it that we’re on tour right now. I offered to hire you a nanny to help. I planned more days off in between so I could be home. I suggested the two of you just come on the road with us because you know I hate being away from you.”

“Yeah, because that’s realistic. Let’s take a baby across the country in a bus. Come off it!” you yelled. You knew you weren’t being fair. You knew you were being a bitch but you couldn’t help it. All the hormones, the lack of sleep, the sheer exhaustion in your body, the words of those spiteful girls…it was all catching up to you and he happened to be in your line of sight. “I did sign up for this but it’s fucking hard. You’re not around and you’d think when you are, you could let me have just a little bit of me time! Is that really too much to ask?”

“Baby, I’m not saying that, but why don’t you actually take some time to relax? You could run yourself a bath or go sit by the pool and read a book? I will take care of Cadence all day if you need me to. I miss her. I would love to spend the day with her.”

“I am sure you would love it if I left you alone all day. Then you wouldn’t have to look at me and how disgusting I am now that I’ve bore your fucking child,” you snapped, hearing him yell your name as you charged out of the hotel room and down to the gym. 

____________________________________________________________

The next morning, you were making your way back to your hotel room from the gym again. You had gone twice more yesterday, ignoring Eddie in the process, not wanting to face the reality of what was happening to your marriage, the things you said. It had taken every ounce of your energy to get through your workout and you had grown irrationally angry when your legs shook so bad you couldn’t even do a squat. How out of shape were you? Your body couldn’t even handle the workouts. 

You had showered at the gym, trying to delay the inevitable, knowing Eddie would be awake when you returned. You stood in front of the mirror after your shower, scrutinizing every inch of your body, disgusted with yourself. How had you allowed yourself to get like this? Those girls were right. If Eddie saw you naked now, he’d be repulsed with you. You grabbed the rolls of skin around your middle, pinching them until it hurt, as if you could just pull them off and make them vanish. Tears of revulsion, self-loathing, and despair trailed down your cheeks as you took in the faint stretch marks around your stomach and thighs, the dark circles under your hairs, the wan appearance of the skin on your face. You hated yourself. You hated this body. You were going to lose your husband to someone thinner and prettier than you, someone who did yoga every day and spent hours primping until everything was perfect. You didn’t have time to be perfect. You were too busy trying to figure out how to keep a tiny human alive and happy.

Finally, knowing you couldn’t put it off any longer, you had decided to face the inevitable. Eddie was going to leave you. He would find a replacement for you. And could you blame him? You saw the girls who threw themselves at him night after night. Of course it was only a matter of time…how long could he resist temptation when you were what he had to come home to?

Using your keycard, you opened the hotel door, the soft sound of your husband singing greeting your ears. You dropped your workout bag and peered around the corner to find him swaying in the sitting area, singing sweetly to your daughter. You recognized it. It was ‘All My Love’ by Led Zeppelin, the first song Eddie had danced with you to, out by Lover’s Lake. Just the two of you underneath the moon, those strong arms feeling like the safest place in the world. It was in that moment that you knew he was the only thing you ever wanted in life, that you would do anything to hold onto him forever.

Your heart broke watching him. You knew he adored your daughter. Cadence was his whole world. He would call before shows and ask you to put the phone to her ear so he could talk to her, terrified she would forget the sound of her dad’s voice. Even if he left you, he would never leave her, but that didn’t make the agony any less. 

“Hey, there you are,” he whispered as he caught sight of you standing there. 

Walking over to the bassinet, he gently laid Cadence down. Moving to you, he took your hands in his, gesturing with his head to follow him into the bedroom. You swallowed the hard knot of emotion that was strangling you and followed him. Eddie sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. Your body tensed, everything in your wanting to run, to flee what was coming, but you fought against it, joining him, your eyes focused on the floor. 

“Princess, what is going on?” he asked, his hand covering yours, that calloused thumb gently running along your skin. In spite of yourself, your body immediately responded to his touch, your tense muscles relaxing. “You are obsessively working out and I can’t figure out if it’s because you want to or it’s a way to avoid me.”

“I’m not…” you began, but you knew it was a lie. You were avoiding him because you were terrified of what was going to happen. If you weren’t with him, he couldn’t tell you he was leaving you. “I don’t know. Maybe I am avoiding you.”

“But why?” he urged. “Sweetheart, I’ve missed you so much. I hate being away from you and Cadence. I understand your reasoning for not bringing her on tour, but if we’re only going to be able to have a few days every few weeks, then we should be making the most of our time together. All I want is to curl up with you and her and soak in every single second so it can hopefully be enough to get me to the next time. I don’t know why you don’t want that. Are you…baby, are you unhappy with me?”

“No! I love you!” you exclaimed, shaking your head. You couldn’t do it anymore. Your head dropped forward as your body shook with sobs, all of the ugly things you’d feared, you’d been told, you’d been telling yourself just crashing down on you. 

“Oh princess,” Eddie breathed, gathering you in his arms. 

He laid back, gently guiding you with him and just held onto you as your entire body released everything that you had been caging, as the dam you’d built broke and the exhaustion, grief, and fear just came flowing out in torrents of pain. You gripped his shirt in your hands, soaking the fabric with your tears, relishing the comfort only he could ever provide you. 

“Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on, please?” he implored, his fingers tenderly kneading the flesh of your back. “I hate seeing you like this. Let me help you.”

“I…I…” you gasped. Pausing, you took slow, small breaths to try to calm yourself so you could speak. “Girls at your show, they were saying stuff. How long did I think I could keep you? What was I doing wearing that dress when I looked like a whale? Why did I still look pregnant? Why wasn’t I taking care of myself? I just…”

“What?” Eddie’s head jerked back, his eyes gazing into yours with genuine shock. “Fuck those girls. Who the hell do they think they are talking about my wife, talking about anyone, that way?”

“But it’s true!” you argued, pulling out of his embrace and sitting up. “Look at me! I can’t compare to all those groupies that hang around with their toned stomachs, tight asses, and tits that actually sit where they should without a bra. I’m a goddamn mess! I wanted to work out because…I don’t know. I wanted to be good enough for you, sexy enough for you…so you wouldn’t leave me for one of them.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie crooned, sitting up next to you. His thumb and forefinger gripped your chin, turning your face to his. “I am not going anywhere, ever. I love you. You. And yes, I think you’re beautiful and gorgeous and so damn sexy, but it’s so much bigger than that. What we have is so much deeper than that. You don’t have to do a fucking thing to be good enough for me. You’re more than enough. In fact, you’re too damn good for me. I sit back every day and wonder how I got to be the lucky bastard you chose.”

Tears pooled in your eyes again at his words as you took in this beautiful man who had your whole heart and had since junior year of high school. All these years later, and he still had the ability to take your breath away, to cause you to lose your train of thought, to completely knock you off your feet. He had no idea how goddamn perfect he was. 

“I love you, princess, just you,” he whispered, his hand cradling your cheek, his lips so close you could feel the warmth of his breath passing over your skin. “I am never going anywhere.”

Then his lips were on yours, soft and warm, sending shocks of pleasure straight through you. His tongue slid along your lips, parting them so he could explore your mouth. You released a quiet whimper, fingers tangling in his hair, your entire body recognizing him, remembering how much it enjoyed the feel of his mouth and hands. 

You gripped the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. Your hands roamed along the familiar territory of his skin; his chest, his stomach; that little line of hair that led temptingly to what you desired most. You ran your fingers up his back, across his shoulder blades, relishing every single inch of him that you’d missed so much these last months. His fingers grabbed your shirt and shocked you back to reality. Your hands shot out, covering his and pulling them back.

“What?” he asked, pausing the kiss to look at you, concern apparent in that lovely face. “What’s wrong?”

“N…nothing,” you managed, shaking your head. 

Eddie’s head tilted slightly and you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe you. He stood from the bed, taking your hand and pulling you up. Those eyes bore into yours, ensuring you everything would be okay as he reached for your shirt again. You fought the urge to stop him as he slowly pulled it over your head. Turning you around, he pressed his chest to your back so you were both facing the floor to ceiling mirror in the bedroom. You cringed, closing your eyes at the sight, attempting to cover your midriff with your arms. 

“No, don’t do that,” he whispered in your ear, his hands covering yours and gently pulling them away. “Open your eyes, princess. Trust me.” Uncertainly, you obeyed, opening your eyes, but keeping them on him. “Look at yourself. You are a goddamn goddess and this stomach…” His hands splayed over your skin and you glanced at the mirror, meeting his eyes in it. “This stomach is beautiful. It grew our daughter. It nourished and protected her for nine months. It gave me Cadence. There is not a single part of you that isn’t absolutely perfect to me.”

“Eddie, but I'm not…” 

“Shh,” Eddie soothed, cutting you off. His tongue darted out, slipping along the side of your neck and you gasped, heading falling back against him. “Let me worship you like the goddess you are.”

His lips pressed against the skin of your neck, your shoulder. When his teeth joined in, nibbling the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, you thought your legs would give out from under you. His fingers expertly released the clasp of your bra and it guided it down your arms until it fell to the floor. As his mouth continued torturing you with nips, licks, and kisses, his hands cupped your breasts, not squeezing, just holding them, being tender in knowing how sore they could be from breastfeeding. 

“You are gorgeous,” he whispered, his hand sliding down your stomach, slipping under your sweats and panties. A low groan fell from his lips when his fingers found your heat. “Fuck. You’re already so wet. I’ve missed you…I’ve missed this, so fucking much.”

He moved around to the front of you, guiding you back on the bed so your legs were dangling off the side. His hands pulled your sweats and panties off in one smooth movement and he threw them across the room. Kneeling down in front of you, he hitched your legs over his shoulders, putting you on full display for him. 

“I love you,” he growled, lips pressing along your inner thighs. “I love every goddamn inch of this body. I am going to show you just how much.”

Then his tongue ran through your folds, from your entrance to your clit and back again. You keened, back arching at the contact, the touch your body had been craving for weeks. Eddie’s hands gripped your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh as he expertly worked his tongue over you. Fuck, the things this man could do. It was like your body had forgotten, had fallen into a deep coma, and suddenly with one touch it was brought to life again. 

“Eddie…shit…” you panted, all concerns about your body and how it looked vanished from your mind as he sent you skyrocketing to the edge of oblivion. “Oh baby, yes…right there. Oh fuck, don’t stop.”

“Didn’t plan on it, princess,” he growled as you gripped his hair tightly in your fingers, grinding yourself against his face. He moaned against you and the feeling of it sent shockwaves of pleasure through you. 

Just when you thought this moment couldn’t be any better, Eddie plunged two fingers into you, adeptly twisting them so they instantly hit that pleasure button within you. Fingers grasping the sheets, you screeched, arching up off the bed. 

“Shh, sweetheart,” he chuckled, lapping circles around your clit, “don’t want to ruin our fun by waking up Cadence.”

You nodded, biting down on your bottom lip. Fuck, it was so hard to control your volume when he was so expertly sending you towards orgasm. You felt it coming as your stomach knotted, your legs quivered, muscles tensing. You tightened your thighs around his head, biting down on your knuckles as your hips rocked against him desperately. 

“That’s it sweetheart. Let it all go. You deserve this,” he urged, before sucking your clit between his lips like it was a hard candy. 

Your eyes rolled into your head as you bit down so hard on your knuckles that you broke the skin, pathetic whimpers and moans releasing from your body, sounds you couldn’t even describe if you tried. A half squeak, half shriek exploded from you as your orgasm came crashing like a tidal wave. You gripped Eddie’s hair with one hand, holding his face against you as you rode it out. 

Slowly coming down, he pressed a kiss to your center that had you whimpering before those lips began tracing along every inch of your body, not a single bit of skin left untouched. He kissed the tops of your feet, your skins, your knees, your thighs, your stomach, your breasts, your neck, before finally making his way back to your lips. You were a gasping, writhing mess beneath him, his mouth already setting a new fire ablaze in you before the first had completely extinguished.

“Goddamn, you are exquisite,” he said, running the back of his hand along your cheek. “You are so fucking perfect.” His arms wrapped around you, flipping you both so you were on top of him. “I want you to ride me, princess. I want to watch you, every single inch of you.”

“Eddie…” you began to protest but he pressed his finger against your lips, raising his eyebrows. 

“Uh-uh,” he insisted, shaking his head. “No more negative talk about yourself. No more mean thoughts about yourself. You are a knockout. You are strong. You are bad-ass. You are a mother. You are perfect and you are mine. I love every single inch of you and I want to see every single inch of you. Get out of your head and just be here with me, princess.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. You could do this. You wanted to do this. You wanted to let it all go, all the toxic shit that had been poisoning your mind and heart, and just be with him. Undoing his pants, Eddie lifted his hips, and you helped him pull them off. You placed one knee on either side of his hips as he held his cock in his hand and guided it within you. You lowered your hips until they were flush against his and you both groaned at the feel of him buried within you, something you’d both been craving for too damn long. 

“Jesus,” he hissed, his hands resting on your hips. “I’ve missed being inside you. You were fucking made for me, do you know that?”

You nodded, slowly rocking your hips forward and backward, causing him to hit that delicious spot all over again. You bit your lip, reminding yourself that you had to control your volume, something the two of you had never had to worry about before. Eddie’s hands slid up, gripping the sides of your waist and you paused, but only for a moment, before continuing to move against him. He loved you. He wanted you. You had to stop obsessing and just be in the moment with this beautiful man, this man you adored more than anything on this planet, Cadence excluded of course.

Your head fell back, hair draping down your back as you lost yourself in the sensation of the two of you becoming one, the two of you connected in a way you hadn’t been in too long. This right here, this had always been perfection with Eddie. You’d heard other girls talk about how the sex fizzled out, wasn’t as exciting, but seven years later, nothing about her desire for him had languished, it had only intensified. Seeing him as a father had just made him even more sexy. Seeing how much he loved your daughter was the greatest aphrodisiac. It had only been medical necessity and then your own insecurities that had hindered it, but right now, you were remembering all of the reasons you needed to let it go. You begin moving your hips in a circular motion and Eddie gasped at the new sensation.

“Fuck baby, that’s so good,” he murmured, eyes devouring you. One of his hands glided along your stomach, in between your breasts, resting on your throat. “You look like goddamn Sune right now, goddess of love and light…just fucking gorgeous.”

If you weren’t lost in the throes of pleasure, you would have laughed. Of course he would compare you to a DnD character. Damn, you loved that the nerd you fell in love with was still in there. He hadn’t lost himself to the fame and celebrity that came with his rockstar lifestyle. At his core, he was still just your Eddie. 

“Come here,” he urged, hands wrapping around you and pulling you down to his chest, crushing you against him as close as he could. He began to thrust his hips upward and you bit down on the flesh of his shoulder to keep from screaming in pleasure. He growled against your ear, one hand cradling your head, the other around your back. “Fuck baby, I am so close.”

“Me too…I…Eddie!” you screamed, gripping his shoulders for dear life as he plunged into you again and again, your orgasm shuddering through you. As your walls pulled tightly around him, he wasn’t long to follow, gripping you to him as he held himself within you, filling you with his release. 

You felt when his muscles relaxed, his body going slack beneath you. Eddie continued to hold you to him, moaning softly with gratification as he kissed your forehead, your nose, your lips. You looked up to see him looking at you, a sleep, satisfied smile on his lips. Your hand came up to rest on his cheek as you tucked yourself against him, burrowing into your own personal safe space.

“Jesus…” he muttered with a low chuckle. “That was goddamn amazing. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you,” you stated, kissing his chest. “I’m so sorry I’ve been so distant during this trip. I’ve missed you so damn much and I feel like I’ve wasted our time together.”

“So, don’t go,” Eddie insisted. “What’s the rush? You can stay as long as you want.” You opened your mouth but he stopped you. “Look, I know the road is not a normal life for a baby. I’m aware of that. I get all your reasons but we’re not normal, sweetheart. We’re far from it. We have plenty of people on this tour to help. I miss you and Cadence so much. When you’re not with me, there’s just this hole…I’m not complete when you’re not here. I’m not happy. I’m not myself. Everyone notices it. Just, promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”

“There’s nothing to think about,” you said and his face fell, all hope vanishing instantly. Reaching out, you took his face in his hands, bringing his eyes back to yours. “There’s nothing to think about because I was already going to say that I think we should try it. I miss you too. I am miserable without you and Cadence needs her daddy. I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to this and I am willing to give it a try.”

Eddie’s entire face lit up, those sweet simple appearing in his cheeks, his eyes like melted chocolate, so soft and warm as he pressed his lips to yours for a deep, gentle kiss.

“Yeah? You’re going to come on the road with me?”

“Baby, I would go anywhere with you. You’re my home, not some walls and a roof, just you,” you replied. 

“You have no idea how happy you…”

You were cut off as the sound of Cadence’s cries shattered the quiet of the hotel room. Sighing, you went to get up but Eddie stopped you, gently pushing you back to the bed.

“I’ve got her. There’s still bottles you pumped in the fridge. You get some sleep.” Leaning over, he kissed your forehead. “Let me do my job. And hey, I have to thank my daughter. At least she let her dad finish before interrupting.”

You laughed, burrowing down in the bed as you watched him pull on some sweats and head out of the room. This was going to be good. Everything was going to be okay. You knew if anyone could make this work, it was the two of you.

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”