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#a quick series I know I like to just go through the motions and make it familiar again

bookwyrminspiration · 6 months

Note

do you have any novellas you'd recommend? I've been in an awful reading slump

I must confess, I don't read many novellas, but! My dad does, and he frequently recommends them to me (we have fairly similar taste), so I can pad the list with some of those.

The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists by Gideon Defoe; there's multiple, and they're these ridiculous short tales of these ridiculous pirates doing. ridiculous things. They made a movie out of the first one. the pirate captain worries he's not entertaining his crew, and on a heist they encounter Charles Darwin, who is training a monkey to be a man and he promises to help him show off this magnificent feat to his snobby superiors and help his rescue his brother from Oxford. Suffice to say things go funky. this is a story that embraces its ridiculousness beautifully

Kitchen by Banana Yoshimoto; a bittersweet exploration of grief and healing. there's no huge drama, just a girl healing from the loss of her grandmother who finds someone who knew her late grandmother, and finds healing in time and new connections. and in sharing grief with new family. there's also a short story within banana at the end called Moonlight, which also discusses grief. one of my favorites :)

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone; you've likely heard of this one before. an epistolary novel of letters between two enemy soldiers in an infinite war across space and time. one fights for a machine-based side, the other for a garden/nature-based. they travel up and down time, ensuring pieces of the future are correctly in place for themselves and sabotaging each other. but more and more...they find themselves valuing these at-first taunting letters. and there are consequences to that

The Ice Dragon by George RR Martin; this one's meant for a younger audience, but I'm quite fond of it. a little girl was born with the cold inside her, and when the ice dragon visits during winter, she can safely touch it and all the other cold creatures without melting them like other kids. but war is coming, and she has to grow. and as much as she loves this dragon as cold as her, survival means sacrifices.

Mapping the Interior by Stephen Graham Jones; an. intriguing story about a kid living on the reservation who sees his dead dad's presence come back to visit--but there's something...off happening. and his little brother's seizure and condition are getting worse, and it turns out there's no escaping the past. this one leaves a bit of unsettling contemplation in my experience--and this author has also written a bunch of other things if it turns out to be to your liking

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark; this is one I haven't read myself, but it's apparently an alternate history in Egypt of detectives trying to solve why this tram car is haunted--and trying to fix it. i intend to read it one day, just haven't yet

Fireheart Tiger by Aliette de Bodard; another one I haven't read about a princess sent away as a hostage when she was younger, but who has now returned and now faces an old love (I think? it's a little fuzzy. i believe it's also queer, but I wouldn't want to advertise it on that alone).

American Hippo by Sarah Gailey; recommended by my partner, is comprised of 2 novellas. I don't know much except that it's an alternate world where America did, indeed, bring hippos over to serve as a main meat source. however they are very viscous, and that causes problems, which I believe the main characters are trying to help solve...? they're spoken very fondly about it with me :)

I could likely come up with more if needed, but these are a solid few to get you going--if you want to read any of them. There is, of course, no pressure if none of these work for you! I think, personally, the first two are my top picks from this list; I've used them to get out of slumps myself. I wish you luck!!

#book recs #book recommendations #novella recs #quil's queries #gayupstraight #another trick to get out of reading slumps I've learned is to reread old books you like #hence my tgI reread #a quick series I know I like to just go through the motions and make it familiar again #warm up and strengthen my reading muscles enough to move on to new stuff :)#long post

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tojipie · 7 months

Note

ma’am you mentioned slipping a guard a wad of cash for a quick closet fuck in your story so like…how often did prison toji have to bribe the guards? 😅

prison boyfriend toji series linked here <3

content: semi-public, intimidation, mentions of incarceration, facials

custodial wing at 11:30

that’s what he’d whispered to you before you parted during your day visit, hand reaching under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes into the curve of your spine.

you didn’t need to ask questions knowing how often the two of you pulled this off. if the state wouldn’t grant you two conjugal visits on account of you not being married.. then you’d just have to make your own.

getting started wasn’t a challenge in the slightest knowing entry-level guards melted like putty once a little stipend was involved. money was everything in this system, and toji had left you a lot of money.

once every two months was the deal. frequent enough that you’d both get your fill of each other outside supervised visits, but not so often as to draw suspicion.

naturally, you make a beeline to your destination as soon visiting hours come to a close, mumbling something about needing the bathroom to a clearly peeved officer at the front desk.

toji comes into view just at the end of the hall, facing away from you. you realize his body is obstructing another person as you you near, bits of their conversation floating in and out.

“you really should be in your cell fushiguro...”

“just wait till’ she gets here before you do something stupid.. christ.”

you pause just beside toji, peering over at the navy blue-clad stranger in front of you.

“where’s..” you trail off, eyes flitting between the two men. great, your regular officer wasn’t on duty today. a fucking warning might have been nice.

the new guard is probably half your boyfriend’s size—and age, not a firm bone in his body by the looks of it. if he did, you figure toji would already be in solitary for sneaking out of his cell. your shoulders relax at the realization. at least this guy wasn’t a threat.

the inmate shoots you a knowing smile, sly as ever despite the high-stakes situation. you quickly move to rustle through your pockets at the sight of his outstretched palm, placing a wad of cash in his hand.

“why don’t we give our pal a little gift, hm?” toji coos, holding the money up between two fingers and shaking it like a dog treat. “wanna give me an hour with my girl?”

the guard frowns, looking around cautiously.

“we’re not really supposed to take bribes…”

the fake smile on toji’s face falters. “fuck does that mean?” he says in disbelief.

“well honestly, it means that i’m going to have to report this.” the younger man says, reaching for his walkie-talkie to alert the rest of the security team.

“are you stupid?” toji seethes. sizing the smaller man up. regret instantly washes over the the guard’s face, eyes blowing impossibly wide as he’s backed up against the wall.

“no sir— I mean— i’m sorry!” a tattooed fist slams against the concrete, dangerously close to his face.

“i could kill you right now. could snap your neck and keep you in that closet over there,” he whispers, jutting his thumb behind him. you know there’s no real intent behind his words, toji simply wasn’t that cruel.

the paralyzed guard cowers at the threat, taking the two of you by surprise as a wet spot grows on the front of his pants. gross.

“you gonna piss your pants every time a real man speaks to you? huh?” he barks, laughing at the younger man’s misfortune.

“no no no please,” the guard babbles, motioning toward the closet. “i’ll keep watch i promise, i— i don’t even need the money i’m sorry.”

“good cause you weren’t getting it,” toji sneers, pocketing the cash before picking you up bridal style.

“that was mean,” you whisper, oddly impressed at the inmate’s intimidation skills.

“yeah? you like when i’m mean?” he mutters jokingly, hands already squeezing the curve of your ass from where his palms are holding your body up. the contact makes you shudder, sending bolts of electricity right to your core.

you loved seeing him like this, as sick as it was. possessive, short-tempered, commanding. it all made your knees weak.

you find yourself propped up against the door of the closet moments later, held up by his hands as he wastes no time, leaning in to mouth at the curve of your neck.

the way he maneuvers you without so much as a sigh only stokes the flames deep in your core. toji’s strength was something to behold, an absolute marvel.

the closet is dim, lit by a pull-string bulb older than the two of you combined. you’re so close that you don’t know where your body ends and his starts, making it seem like there’s not enough air for the both of you.

you reach down with one hand, keeping the other on his shoulder for balance. deft fingers work up the scratchy fabric of his brown uniform, exposing his abs with a hum.

fuck, he was getting bigger, muscles chiseling deeper and deeper as each day went by. the barest hint of black ink peeks just under the hem of his shirt, grabbing your attention for just a moment.

“lift it up angel,” he rasps, mouth still working at the thin skin of your collarbones. purple blood vessels bloom under his lips, the trail of hickeys growing larger by the minute.

the inmate helps you strip his upper half, lips detaching from your body with a sly smile.

“toji, oh my god,” you gasp, running a careful hand over the barely healed tattoo.

“didn’t want you to see till’ it was finished,” he explains, grinding the hard length of his cock against your clothed core.

toji hadn’t taken his shirt off the last two times you’d snuck off together, opting fuck you through three orgasms with his pants around his knees, showing off the barest hint of his happy trail.

you figured it was for the sake of saving time, a precautionary measure in case your situation was compromised. naturally, there was a much deeper reason behind it.

delicate swirled letters brand your name across his ribs, etched into tanned skin amid a background of black and grey mist. the skin around the edge is still pink and delicate. blushed by the spike of a needle over, and over, and over.

god.. how did he even get this done? and so well at that? the things he manages to achieve even while serving time never fail to blow you away.

you hadn’t even realized he’d stopped grinding into you, his palm just barely cradling your face.

“you okay?” he says it so gently, like you’ll break.

“it’s perfect,” you tell him, basking in the shy smile he gives you. scarred lips finally meet yours, setting you down on the floor of the closet to shimmy your skirt down. toji pulls away with an audible hum, tapping the inside of your calf to get you to open your legs wider.

the inmate wastes no time, hooking a thumb under the fabric covering your heat, and pulling your panties to the side. you feel his hulking body drop to a knee in the dim light, running thick hands up the soft skin of your calves before pressing a gentle kiss to your clit.

“beautiful,” he whispers, though the stars that dance across your vision keep you wondering if he’s talking about you, or your pussy.

and then your thoughts come to a screeching halt as a warm, dexterous tongue licks up the length of your slit. the noise he makes is obscene, desperate, groaning low in his chest as he tastes you for the first time in months.

you nearly forgot how good it feels to be taken like this, struggling to maintain your balance as toji laps at your hole, two hands settling on your knees should they decide to buckle.

“tastes so fucking good,”

he says it directly into your heat, shooting vibrations straight into your core. warm velvet sneaks up to lap at your sensitive bud, tracing hot, wet circles in the spot that matters most.

you peek down just enough to see him free his cock from his boxers. two fingers swipe through your heat, using your slick to ease the slide of his hand along his shaft.

it’s filthy, the way he’s always been so readily able to shift how he acts around you. cold, unforgiving hands turning into warm fingers that bring you nothing but pleasure.

you’re the only one who sees him like this— who will ever see him like this. on his knees in the back of a cramped closet, making love to your cunt like a man starved.

the feeling of your approaching high rips you from your thoughts, hands tangling into his mess of raven hair.

“gonna cum,” you whine, pushing at his forehead to get his face away from your clit. the tiniest bit of relief floods your core as he pulls away, his mouth and chin dripping with slick.

“turn around.”

you haven’t even fully pressed yourself against the door before the blunt head of his cock is sliding into your entrance, filling you to the brim in one fluid motion.

toji takes a second to palm at the flesh of your ass, humming in appreciation as you adjust to his size.

“please,” you groan, “please just fuck me toji, please.”

the inmate pauses, slipping a hand under the hem of your shirt to play with your tits.

“should i?” he whispers, groaning as you clench down on his length.

frustrated, you push your hips back into his shaft, swallowing him over and over while harsh pants ring out behind you. large hands squeeze around your waist to stall your movements, giving him space to rut into you like you need.

the feeling is seismic, explosive. sending you right over the edge and into the abyss as black streaks over your vision. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good before, taking deep, thorough gulps of air as you’re humped and rutted into against the fragile wood of the closet door.

large fingers wrap around your wrist and pin your arm behind you as you reach down to toy with yourself.

“like this,” he tells you. the implications clear as day.

cum on his cock or don’t cum at all.

and cum you do, shuddering as you flood yourself between your legs. his pace doesn’t let up for a single second, bucking up into that special spot over and over.

“knees,” he commands, tone as urgent as ever. “fuck, get on your knees.”

you don’t have to be told twice, sinking to the floor to face him as he pulls out of you.

“open baby, open up for me.” the noise his hand makes while her jerks himself off is absolutely debilitating.

you tiredly rest your cheek just under the jut of his hip bone, pressing soft kisses under the far edge of his tattoo. the aftershocks of your high leave you breathless as thick spurts of seed cover the left half of your face.

toji takes you by the face and holds you in front of him, fingers squishing your lips into a pout as he paints your face with the last of his load.

“there we go, there we go, eat it for me,” he pants from above you, chest heaving from the force of his orgasm. you gather as much as you can with your tongue, letting him thumb the rest into your mouth.

“beautiful,” he says, letting you clean off his fingers with your tongue. and this time you’re sure that he’s talking about you, his girl. his everything.

taglist ! 🏷️

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worldlxvlys · 1 month

Text

listening

part 5 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, orgasm denial, cream pie, squirting, cursing

a/n -> read the previous part for context!!

hope you like !!

matt must have been driving pretty quickly, as his usual ten minute trip to my house was shaved down to five.

he didn’t say anything, letting out a quick “i’m coming in” before hanging up.

i don’t even know how it was possible, but he was in my room less than a minute later.

neither of us made a move, both of us just staring at the other. every action that we took prior to this moment was based off of our desires.

this was the first time that night that we were actually stopping to think about what we were doing. this wasn’t just anyone, it was matt. we flirted often, but i never expected it to go any further than that.

i knew it was wrong, wanting him like this. but i also knew i wouldn’t be able to help myself, not after seeing the faces he makes with his hand wrapped around his dick. the thought of that alone made my legs clench together while he walked towards me.

my breathing picked up slightly as he leaned over me, his hands on either side of my body. his face was only inches away from mine when he spoke up, “are we- is this okay?” he asked, eyeing my lips.

“yes, please matt. you can do whatever you want to me” i told him, grabbing his hand and guiding it to my thigh. “anything?” he asked in confirmation, his fingers sliding under my skirt.

“yes, matt. just fuck me, please. need it so bad” i whined while he swiped his finger through my folds, collecting my arousal.

“so fucking wet, bet you taste amazing” he whispered, bringing his wet finger up to his mouth and tasting it. his eyes rolled back and he let out a low moan, “of course you do”

he hooked his finger under my jaw, pulling my lips to his in a slow kiss. i moaned at the taste of myself on his tongue, tilting my head to deepen the kiss.

my head flew back when i felt his finger poking at my entrance teasingly, before moving to my thigh. “matt, please. no teasing” i sighed out while he trailed kisses down my neck.

“didn’t you just say i could do whatever i want?” he spoke, his lips tickling my skin. “yeah, but-” i started, quickly being cut off by him, “no buts, you don’t have to do anything. just sit there and take it” he spoke as he pulled down his sweats and boxers in one swift motion.

his thick, veiny dick sprung free. it was red, covered in pre-cum, and it was so hard it looked like it hurt.

he pushed my skirt up, bunching it at my waist to expose my heat to him. “look at that pretty little pussy” he whispered to himself, spreading my thighs apart.

he began to rub his tip up and down my folds, dipping it into my entrance momentarily before taking it out. he did this over and over again, watching while i squirmed underneath him.

i was a whining mess, hand slapping over my mouth while he continued to torture me. “rub your clit” he ordered while he continued to grind himself against me. i let out a long moan when i followed his instruction, my free hand gripping the sheets next to me.

“matt, i’m so close” i cried out, clenching around nothing. “hold it” he spoke, pushing in just the tip.

“i-i can’t, matt. please, i-” i cut myself off with a loud moan when he pushed himself in fully, without warning. “you can take it. hold it” he spoke as he began to thrust into me quickly.

i was about to move my hand from my clit, finding the added stimulation to be too much, but matt spoke up before i could, “and don’t move that hand either. this is what you wanted, right? take it”

my eyes screwed shut, teeth digging into my lips as i tried desperately to hold off my orgasm. “eyes on me when i’m fucking you, princess” he said, my eyes flying open in obedience.

“you’re such a good listener when you want to be, baby. we’re gonna have to work on that attitude though, aren’t we?”

i nodded my head in response, was he implying that this would be happening again?

he hooked his arms around my thighs, lifting them up to thrust into me at a different angle. his dick brushed against my sweet spot and i was gone.

“fuck, fuck, fuck matt!” i screamed as i released all over him, my body shaking under him. i clenched around him, making him cry out in surprise as thick spurts of his cum shot inside of me.

he continued to thrust into me sloppily, eliciting several high-pitched moans from me as my juices spilled out of me and onto him. after a few more thrusts, he pulled out of me carefully.

“fuck, you’re on the pill, right?” he asked as he watched our combined pleasure drip out of me. “yeah, and now’s a fine time to ask” i spoke.

“yeah, well maybe if you had actually listened we wouldn’t have had to worry about it” he said, squinting his eyes and flashing me a sarcastic smile.

“not my fault you got horny and decided to screw your best friend” i countered.

“what’s that you were saying again? matt, please ! please fuck me! need it so bad ” he spoke in a high-pitched voice, mocking me.

“shut up” i fought the smile taking over my face, rolling my eyes at him. he leaned forward slightly, making me move back until i was laying down.

“that’s funny, you seemed to like how i was talking to you a minute ago. eyes rolled back, toes curled, when was the last time you squirted like that?” he asked, tilting his head at me.

he gave me a pointed look, waiting for an answer. “i haven’t” i admitted, “that was the first time”

a wide grin quickly grew on his face at that as he picked me up bridal style. “matt!” i yelled in surprise, “where are we going?”

“to take a shower” he spoke as we made our way to the bathroom, “and make you squirt again. we wouldn’t want your first time to be the last, would we? ” he spoke, his cheeky grin never leaving his face.

yeah, that was far from the last time.

the way i already know what i’m doing for p6 😋

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

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physalian · 3 months

Text

What No One Tells you about Writing #3

Opening this up to writing as a whole, because it turns out I have a lot more to say!

Part 1

Part 2

1. You don’t fall in love with your characters immediately

But when you do, it’s a hit of serotonin like no other. I’d been writing a tight cast of characters for my sci-fi series since 2016 and switched over in a bout of writer’s block this year to my new fantasy book. I made it about ⅓ through writing the book going through the motions, unable to visualize what these new characters look like, sound like, or would behave like without a ‘camera’ on them.

Then, all of a sudden, I opened my document to keep on chugging with the first draft, and it clicked. They were no longer faceless elements of my plot, they were my characters and I was excited to see what they could accomplish, rooting for them to succeed. Sometimes, it takes a while, but it does come.

2. Sometimes a smaller edit is better than a massive rewrite

Unless you’re changing the trajectory of your entire plot, or a character’s arc really is unrecoverable, sometimes even a single line of dialogue, a single paragraph of introspection, or a quick exchange between two characters can change everything. If something isn’t working, or your beta readers consistently aren’t jiving with a character you yourself love, try taking a step back, looking at who they are as a person, and boil down what your feedback is telling you and it might demand a simpler fix than you expect.

Tiny details inserted at the right moment can move mountains. Fan theories stand on the backs of these minutiae. One sentence can turn a platonic relationship romantic. One sentence can unravel a fair and just argument. One sentence can fill or open a massive plot hole.

3. Outline? What outline?

Not every book demands weeks upon weeks of prep and worldbuilding. I would argue that jumping right in with only a vague direction in mind gives you a massive advantage: You can’t infodump research you haven’t done. Exposition is forced to come as the plot demands it, because you haven’t designed it yet.

Not every story is simple and straightforward, but even penning the first draft with your vague plan, *then* going back and adding in deeper worldbuilding elements, more thematic details, richer character development, can get you over the writer’s block hurdle and make it far less intimidating to just shut up and write the book.

4. It’s okay to let your characters take the wheel

I’ve seen writing advice that chastises authors who let their characters run wild, off the plan the story has for them. Yeah, doing this can harm your pacing and muddy a strong and consistent arc, but refusing to leave the box of your outline greatly limits your creativity. I do this particularly when writing romantic relationships (and end up like Captain Crunch going Oops! All Gays!).

Did I plan for these two to get together? No, it just happened organically as I wrote them talking, getting closer, getting to know each other better in the circumstances they find themselves in. Was this character meant to be gay? Well, he wasn’t meant to be straight, but you know what, he’d work really well with this other boy over here. None of that would have happened if I was bound and determined to follow my original plan, because my original plan didn’t account for how the story that I want to tell evolves. You aren’t clairvoyant—it’s okay if it didn’t end up where you thought it would.

5. Fight. Scenes. Suck.

Which is crazy because I love fantasy and sci-fi, the actiony-est genres. Some authors love battle scenes and fistfights. It comes naturally to them and I will forever be jealous. I hate fight scenes. I hate blocking and choreographing them. I hate how it doesn’t read like I’m watching a movie. I hate how it could take me hours to write a scene I can read in 5 minutes. I hate that there’s no way around it except to just not write them, or put in the elbow grease and practice.

Whatever your writing kryptonite is, don’t be too hard on yourself. It won’t ever replicate the movie in your head, but our audience isn’t privy to that movie and will be none the wiser of how this didn’t fit your expectations, because it’s probably awesome on its own. It could be a fight scene, sex scene, epic battle, cavalry charge, courtroom argument, car chase—whatever. Be patient, and kind to yourself and it will all come together.

6. Write the scenes you want to write first

And then be prepared to never use them. It can be mighty difficult working backwards from a climax and figuring out how to write the story around it, but if you’re sitting at your laptop staring at your cursor and watching it blink, stuck on a tedious moment that’s necessary but frustrating, go write something exciting. Even if that amazing scene ends up no longer working in the book your story becomes, you still get practice by writing it. Particularly if you hate beginnings or the pressure of a perfect first page is too high, you’re allowed to write any other moment in the book first.

And with that, be prepared to kill your darlings. Not your characters, I mean that one badass line of dialogue living rent free in your head. That epic monologue. That whump scenario for your favorite character. Sometimes it just doesn’t work out anymore, but even if it ends up in the trash, you can always salvage something from it, even if that’s only the knowledge of what not to do in the future.

7. “This is clearly an author insert.” … Yes. It is. Point?

No one likes Mary Sues, because a character who doesn’t struggle or learn to get everything they want in life is uncompelling. The most flagrant author inserts I see aren’t Mary Sues, they’re nerdy, awkward, boring white guys whose world changes to fit their perspective, instead of the other way around—they don’t have anything to say. I’m not the intended audience to relate to these characters and I accept that, but I don’t empathize with the so-called “strong female character” who also doesn’t have flaws or an arc either.

A good author insert? When the author gives their characters pieces of themselves. When the “author insert” struggles and learns and grows and it’s a therapeutic experience just writing these characters thrown into such horrible situations. They feel human when they’re given pieces of a human’s soul. They have real human flaws and idiosyncrasies. I don’t care if the author wrote themselves as the protagonist. I care that this protagonist is entertaining. So if you want to make yourself the hero of your book, go for it! But make sure you look in the mirror and write in your flaws, as much as your strengths.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fantasy #scifi #what no one tells you about writing

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moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

hi mae !! im currently in love with eddie, so i was wondering if you could write an eddie x fem!reader drabble, where they're in a long distance relationship and are finally getting to see each other in person again after a while of being apart? if isnt something youre interested in, i understand :))

Hi gorgeous, thank you for requesting!!

cw: mention of weed (Eddie deals but they're not smoking)

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 708 words

Eddie likes to think of himself as erring on the wild side, but you know he sticks to his routines the same as a crotchety old man. And even though he’s graduated from high school, he still deals to a few of the kids he knew when he was there. You’re lucky; you step into the woods behind the school right as the buyer is leaving, a scraggly kid whose head bobs as he walks and who looks at you like you might go tattle to his parents. You’re too excited to take offense.

Eddie’s still sitting at his picnic table, one leg hiked up on the bench like he’s thinking of climbing up, closing the clasps of the tin lunchbox he keeps his stash in. He doesn’t startle as you come up behind him, just turns with a half interested look in his eyes.

A laugh bubbles out of you when they widen comically.

“Hey,” you say, picking up your pace to cross the distance to him.

“Holy fuck.” Eddie nearly trips getting out of his seat. He leaves the lunchbox behind. “Jesus, what the fuck?”

“Glad to see you too,” you laugh, putting your arms around him.

And you know from experience that Eddie’s a fantastic hugger, but this one is a bit of a scramble. He’s rushed, greedy, hands starting at your sides and then wriggling their way across your back until he’s got you where he wants you. Pulled tight against him with his arms banded across the high and low points of your back, face pressed into your shoulder, your feet still touching the ground but just barely. The whole production makes your chest hurt, a gratifying ache.

“What are you doing here?” It sounds almost like an accusation, muffled affectionately into the material of your shirt.

You can’t stop giggling. Eddie’s hair tickles your nose. “Crazy thing,” you reply, “they actually let us have summers off.”

Eddie’s funny in that he almost never asks the right questions. The last time you’d seen him had been during winter break, and when you’d gone back to school and been calling every night, he only asked about your life there. Always what you were doing and how much fun you were having, infinitely sweet in his support of your college experience even if he couldn’t share in it, and in his curiosity he’d somehow forgotten to wonder when you might be coming home again.

“Okay, smartass.” He gives you a happy little squeeze. “How long do I get you for?”

“Until August.”

Eddie makes a delighted moaning sound that sets your giggles off all over again.

“Yes.” His tone evokes the feeling of a fist-pump without the follow-through of the actual motion, but his hands slip from around you. He grabs your face and kisses you hard. “Fuck yeah!”

You’re grinning massively as you meet him kiss for kiss, arms crawling up around his shoulders.

“Best. Surprise. Ever.” He holds you still for a series of quick pecks, deviating from your lips to kiss your cheek, your nose. “Shit, is it, like, super unromantic if I start taking your clothes off?”

“Kinda,” you say, though you don’t deny him when one of his hands slips down to paw at your ass. “We’re maybe fifty feet from a high school right now.”

“Mhm, mhm, but hear me out.” Eddie’s words are interspersed with little suctioning sounds, his lips planting themselves eagerly upon any bit of you they can find. “Back when we went here, that would have been the hottest thing, you know? We can even go under the bleachers if you want.”

You don’t open your eyes, but they’re rolling. “My ovaries are quaking.”

Eddie groans low in his throat and squeezes your ass teasingly. “So stubborn.”

“We can go back to your place,” you offer.

“No, no.” He sighs, heavy and dramatic. “We’d have to drive, and I’m not ready to be across a console from you yet.” Eddie backs you up until your backside hits the picnic table, helping you up and positioning himself between your legs. His arms wrap around you again, half makeout and half hug. “Let’s stay here for a while. Wouldn’t be able to focus on the road anyway.”

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pucksandpower · 10 months

Note

Oooh the grid kids series is pure joy! I think it's really cool idea, especially because the drivers spend so much time around one another. Can i request one where maybe back in the day, rbr!seb and y/n were the grid kids of like mark and michael and jenson and back to present times, seb's grid kids are weirded out to see jenson and mark treat seb and y/n as their grid kids please. If that makes sense

Grid Kids: Gentlemen, a Short View Back to the Past

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: once upon a time, the grid parents were grid kids themselves

Series Masterlist

When We Were Young

“Oi lovebirds! Stop canoodling in the garage, will ya?” Mark Webber chuckles, teasingly nudging Sebastian as you blush, having been caught stealing a quick kiss with your boyfriend in the middle of the chaotic paddock.

Michael, ever the protective figure, chimes in, “Leave them alone, Mark. It’s sweet. Remember when we were young and in love?” He winks at Sebastian, who grins, clearly relishing in having backup.

Jenson, leaning against a tire stack, chuckles, “Speak for yourself. Some of us still have it.” He sends you a playful wink and you laugh.

Sebastian wraps an arm around you, “Honestly, with the three of you as mentors, I’m surprised I’ve learned anything about racing.”

You smirk, “Maybe they're preparing you for the important race — the race of life?”

Mark snorts, “Deep, Y/N. Very deep.”

Michael smiles, a nostalgic look in his eyes, “You know, Y/N, you remind me a lot of my wife back in the day. Always grounding us racers, making sure our heads don’t get too big.”

Jenson nods in agreement, “True that. You have a way of making sure Seb here doesn’t drift into the clouds.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes, “Oh come on! You guys are just trying to get on Y/N’s good side because she’s the only one who brings proper coffee to the track.”

You giggle, “Guilty as charged. Can’t have my grid parents falling asleep at the wheel now, can I?”

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Sebastian and you stand with Jenson and Mark, sheltering under an awning as rain pours down, delaying the race. Michael ambles over, shaking off his umbrella.

Sebastian grins, “Typical Spa weather, huh?”

Jenson chuckles, “Isn’t it just? Every year I hope for sun by some miracle and every year...” He gestures at the rain dramatically.

You sigh, “I packed for a summer trip. Look at this!” You motion to your very damp sundress.

Mark smirks, “Rookie mistake. Always pack a wetsuit for Spa.”

Michael nods sagely, “And flippers.”

Oh Simple Thing

The smell of grilled meat wafts through the air as Jenson mans the BBQ at his home. You and Sebastian arrive, bringing along a homemade salad and plenty of sides.

“Ah, the dynamic duo!” Mark greets, pulling you into a friendly hug.

Michael points to the salad, “Trust Y/N to ensure we get our greens. Good on you!”

You wink, “Can’t have you all living on steaks and grilled chicken alone.”

As the evening progresses, stories from their early racing days are exchanged, often leading to fits of laughter. At one point, Mark shares an embarrassing story about Sebastian’s rookie mistake during a test session.

Sebastian groans, burying his face in his hands, “Do we have to bring that up again?”

You pat his back sympathetically, “It’s alright, Seb. Everyone has their moments.”

Jenson, taking a sip of his drink, adds, “That’s true. Just remember, no matter how many times they tease you, you’ve got Y/N in your corner. And that’s worth more than anything.”

Prank or Be Pranked

“Seb! Did you move my helmet?” Jenson calls out, rummaging through his locker as the five of you prepare to go karting, his face a picture of confusion.

Sebastian, feigning innocence, replies, “Why would I do that?”

You, smirking, lean in and whisper to Mark, “Five bucks says he put it on the highest shelf.”

Mark grins, “You’re on.”

As Jenson continues his search, he eventually finds his helmet perched high up, just out of reach. Michael, catching on to the prank, laughs, “Looks like our young prodigy here has learned a few tricks.”

Sebastian shrugs, “Consider it ... training. For reflexes and stuff.”

Jenson, using the handle of a dusty broom to retrieve his helmet, retorts, “Wait till you find out what I’ve done with your boots.”

Sebastian’s eyes widen in horror, “You didn’t!”

“This is going to be a long season.” You lean back against the brick wall as the overgrown children in front of you continue to bicker, fighting a smile.

Thanks for the Memories

Jenson, lounging comfortably in the hospitality area, raises an eyebrow as he watches you try to subtly wipe some oil off Sebastian's face. “You sure you’ve got him all cleaned up for the camera?”

You laugh, looking at a sheepish Sebastian who had been poking around his car earlier. “It’s like looking after a kid sometimes. He’s always getting into something.”

Michael chuckles from across the room, “Ah, young love. Sebastian, she’s got your number. But honestly, Y/N, good on you. We older ones have been trying to teach him some discipline.”

Mark smirks. “To be fair, Michael, I recall a certain someone ending up in a pool with his clothes on in Monaco just last year.”

Michael grins mischievously, “That was different. And anyway, Seb, Y/N, don’t get any ideas.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Trust me, if he ends up in the water, I won’t be the one pushing him.”

Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “But you’d jump in to save me, right?”

You pretend to ponder, “Hmm, depends on how cold the water is.”

Jenson laughs, “Sebastian, you’ve found your match. But seriously, both of you, cherish these moments. The grid, the races, it’s all fleeting. But the relationships, the memories, they last.”

Michael nods in agreement, “Jenson’s right. One day you’ll be the veterans, guiding the young ones. Remember these days, learn from them.”

Mark clinks his water bottle to yours, “To memories and the journey ahead.”

Flintstones, Meet the Flintstones

Michael leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips, “You know, when I started in F1 we didn’t have all this fancy tech and simulations. We relied on instinct.”

Jenson, faking shock, retorts, “Wait, you mean they didn’t have cars back then?”

Sebastian chuckles, glancing at you, “I bet he drove a dinosaur to the track.”

You laugh, “A very fast dinosaur, mind you.”

Mark, trying to keep a straight face, adds, “Michael, be honest. Was your racing suit made of ... loincloth?"

Michael plays along, “Yes and our helmets were carved out of stone.”

You chime in, “I heard they used saber-toothed tigers as pit crews.”

Jenson nods, “Oh, absolutely. And the pit stops? Ten minutes. Had to give the tigers a break.”

Michael rolls his eyes, laughing, “Alright, alright, mock the legend if you must. But remember, young ones, we paved the way.”

Mark grins, “And we’re grateful, old man. But don’t forget, it’s their turn now.”

Sebastian, ever competitive, challenges, “Race you to the track?”

Michael raises an eyebrow, “You sure about that?”

You laugh, “Careful, Seb. He might just bring out his dinosaur.”

Passing the Torch

Michael stands, his presence commanding the room’s attention even without a word spoken. Holding a helmet delicately in his hands, he clears his throat. “In every racer’s life, there comes a time when the tracks call to you a little less, the roar becomes a distant echo, and you realize there’s a world waiting for you outside the paddock.”

He glances over at Sebastian, then to you, emotion shimmering in his eyes. “But before I step into that world, I wanted to leave behind something, a token of gratitude and hope.”

Sebastian’s brow furrows slightly, curiosity evident. “Michael, you’ve already given so much to all of us …”

Michael interrupts with a soft chuckle, “Seb, always impatient! Let me finish.”

He then looks at you, his gaze warm and fatherly, “Y/N, you may not race on the track, but you’ve raced in all our hearts, guiding, supporting, laughing, and cheering louder than everyone else.”

“Sebastian, Y/N,” Michael continues, his voice imbued with emotion, “This helmet, from my last race, isn’t just a piece of equipment. It’s a symbol. A legacy.”

Gently placing the helmet on the table, he pushes it towards the two of you. “It’s about the weight of responsibility, the dreams it carries, the hopes it’s seen, and the love it’s felt.”

The room is silent, the magnitude of the gesture palpable.

Sebastian, clearly moved, speaks up, voice choked with emotion, “Michael, this ... this is ... I’m not sure if we can ever fill the space you leave behind.”

Michael smiles, placing a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, then moving to hug you tightly. “That’s the thing about spaces. They evolve. They change. You two won’t fill my space. You’ll create your own.”

Pulling away, he raises his glass, “To new beginnings, to timeless legacies, and to family. Always to family.”

Back to the Future

As Max saunters into the room, he stops short, eyebrows raised in surprise. Jenson is teasing Sebastian, ruffling his hair like he’s a teenager, while Mark playfully nudges Y/N’s arm, offering her a drink.

Max blinks a few times, trying to process the scene. “Is ... is Jenson giving Seb a noogie?”

George peers over from his conversation with Lando, both their eyes widening. “It looks like it ... and Y/N’s being drawn into some sort of mock arm wrestling with Mark. What alternate reality did we walk into?”

Charles, mouth agape, chuckles, “It’s like watching a nature documentary: Here we observe the older generation asserting their playful dominance over the younger one.”

Lando giggles, nudging George. “Mate, should we jump in? Even the odds a bit?”

Before George can answer, Mick, who’s been observing silently, leans in. “Guys, it’s kind of sweet. You remember the stories they've told about the old days? This is just ... history repeating itself.”

Max, still trying to wrap his head around the scene, shakes his head with a laugh. “Never thought I’d see the day when Seb gets his hair messed up and doesn’t immediately fix it.”

Lance calls out, “Maybe we should start taking notes. This might be us in a few years.”

Grid Kids and Grand-Grid Kids

Charles saunters over to Mark and Jenson, holding up a race boot he’d just had signed by both of them. “Thanks for this, mates. It will be a special addition to my collection.”

Mark pats Charles on the back, “Anything for our grand-grid kid.”

Charles stops mid-stride, turning to look at Mark with a puzzled expression. “Your what now?”

Jenson chuckles, handing Lando a signed cap. “Didn’t Seb and Y/N mention? Since they’re your grid parents and they’re our grid kids ... well, that makes you our grand-grid kids.”

Lando bursts into laughter, while George, overhearing the exchange, raises an eyebrow. “Wait, so we’re like ... the second generation of grid offspring? This is getting complicated.”

Mick leans in with a smirk, “Hold on. So if I’m following this logic properly, that would mean double the birthday gifts, right?”

Jenson grins, “Well, perhaps but it also means double the expectations on the track.”

Lance playfully rolls his eyes, “Great, double the pressure. Just what we needed.”

Max joins the banter, “Are there grand-grid kid initiation rites we should know about? Because I’ve seen old photos of Seb and Y/N with you guys and let’s just say that fashion has come a long way.”

Mark feigns shock, “You’re dissing our style from back in the day? Careful, young one.”

Charles, cocking an eyebrow, shoots back at Max, “Especially considering the only thing in your closet is Red Bull merch.”

The group bursts into laughter, Max chuckling and nodding in acknowledgment. “Touche, Leclerc. Touche.”

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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 month

Text

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Thirteen: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, sexual content/fantasizing, pervy behavior, panty/scent kink, mask kink(Ghostface), gaslighting/manipulation, public/semi-public, spitting, cumplay, nude vids/pics, masturbation, oral, PIV, dick piercing, forced orgasm, bondage/blindfolds, biting/slapping/spanking/cutting, rape kink, NONCON/DUBCON/CNC, Somno, blood, knife, GEN. SMUT [Be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Ghost is getting careless, Ghost is sick and tired of the way you make him go off script, post murder sex spree [diary entries from Ani] extremely not proofread. MDNI 18+ [ani wears a vulvodynia tshirt, this song is so vader coded; enjoy]

DATE

1:27 am August 29th

After the initial shock of Ghost’s demands, you quickly realized he was serious in his request. He lunged at you, just to spook you into running because you’d stood frozen like a deer in the headlights.

If only you could’ve seen the absolutely feral grin on his face. His little doe had fawned.

You swung open the bedroom door and shut it behind you, instinctively holding onto the doorknob and using your body as a counterweight to keep the door shut while Ghost laughed and barely tugged at it. Each quick pull made you jolt forward and only proved further how scared you really should be, knowing he was pulling the door open with your full weight on it with just one arm.

If he was serious, really, truly, serious. You wouldn’t have a chance, he’d demolish you in minutes.

You made a decision and made it quickly that your best bet would be to run to the living room and loop around, back to the bedroom and lock him out. At least there was a window in there you could probably climb out of if you actually needed to. The bathroom would just be a death trap.

You hoped that if you let go just as he was opening the door he might stumble, so you tried exactly that. It didn’t work the way you planned, but it did give you a second or two advantage. Though he quickly made up the time after he recovered from pulling the door into his shoulder at full force.

“Ow.” He gritted through his teeth, flipping out the decorative butterfly knife in his right hand, rolling his shoulders back as his towering frame strode across the small living space toward you.

“Ghost what the hell are you doing?” You squealed, grabbing the nearest book to you on your shelf, a paperback romance novel, and chucked it at him.

“Oh no.” He gasped, knocking the book away from him, his gloved hand flying to the gaping maw of his mask. “You gave me a paper cut.”

He twirled his your knife and lunged forward to grab your arm.

“I just want to have some fun, don’t you?” He chuckled, watching you wiggle and squirm to get away from his firm one-handed grip. With a quick motion and a rip of fabric he sliced a hole in the side of Anakin’s t-shirt he’d made you wear.

“Oh my god! What- you could’ve cut me!” You screeched, smacking at his arm with your free hand.

“If I wanted to I would’ve.” He growled, letting go of your wrist and allowing you to stumble backwards.

“I don’t know what I did to make you mad but I’m sorry!” Your voice shook as you backed away from him, scrambling back toward the bookshelf.

“Doe, you didn’t make me angry.” He said, his filtered voice oddly soothing in comparison to the way he was aggressively closing in on you. “You made me hard.”

“And now I’m gonna fuck you like I should’ve out in that dirty alleyway.” He gritted out.

“You ruined it for me you know?” He grumbled kicking the paperback weapon from earlier out of his way.

“What?” You squeaked, “What do you mean? I thought-“

“Yeah, you thought.” He snarled, reaching forward to grab you by the front of your shirt. “That’s the problem.”

“I wanted-“ He huffed when you jolted away from him and grabbed a slightly heavier book off the shelf to hit him with. “Do it. See what happens.” He barked.

He produced a second knife from seemingly thin air, one second his left hand was empty and the next the silver flash of the blade caught your eye. You panicked, two sharpened blades in the hands of a madman did not bode well for your very near future. Choosing purely out of instinct you swung the book at him, hoping to hit him square in the face.

You were too slow, or maybe he was just too fast. Either way, the book connected with the knife in his left hand instead of hitting the mark you’d set out for. He snickered, seeing your frustration and surprise at having speared your own belonging on his blade, your expression quickly fading to a blank-pale faced shock.

His hand shot out in continuance of the fluid sideways stabbing motion. His knife, along with your book, sunk into the wall, getting pinned there until further notice. The drywall cracking from the force of the side of his fist driving in the blade as easily as a pushpin.

“Now, as I was saying,” he sighed, clapping the drywall dust from his leather gloves. He moved quickly to grab you by the hair and drag you to the couch. “You thought, and that ruined my fun.”

“I wanted to pin you down on the nasty pavement and fuck you hard like the useless cocksleeve that you are,” his teeth clenched tightly. “but no. You had to be you, didn’t even give me the chance to offer you a safe word.”

“You’re such a slut that you just let me do it with no fight.” He snorted. “You let me drag you down a dark alley and fuck you. You wanted it so bad you hardly questioned it at all.”

“If I wanted to fuck you nice and slow, if I wanted to give you a choice, real or not... I would’ve done it in that cozy little love nest.” He said angrily, turning your head in the direction of your bedroom and pointing with his rose handled blade.

“See, I’ve got this thing,” he grunted, stabbing his knife into the couch cushion and locking the handles in a fixed position so he use both hands. “you’ve probably heard of it.”

You wiggled and squirmed against his firm grip on your hair, each strand felt like it was ripping from your skull. You reached back and elbowed him in the ribs, making him take a sharp inhale.

“You stupid bitch.” He snapped, spinning you around and grabbing you right beneath your jaw. He squeezed tightly, lifting you up so that you were struggling to stand on your tiptoes.

“You gonna be mad if I smack you?” He asked, his voice low and gravely.

“Yes! What the fuck?” You coughed, your hands gripping his wrist in an effort to keep yourself from choking.

“Will you hate me though?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, a slightly more playful tone in his voice like he knew your answer.

You shook your head ‘no’, holding your breath while a fire lit in your lungs, your vision burning black around the edges. Finally he sat you flat on your feet, if you weren’t light headed before, you sure as hell were now. All the blood rushing back to where it belonged cause your body to momentarily malfunction.

Ghost kept you upright, letting you slump against him for a second before encasing the back of your neck in his firm leather grip, pulling you back far enough away from himself to deliver a rough *smack* to your cheek.

Your eyes flew open, suddenly more alert as he shocked your system back into working order. Plunging you back into dizziness when he threw you forward and bent you over the arm of the couch.

“Hey.” He said gruffly, crouching next to you and pushing your hair from your face. “I gave you a safe word.” He reminded you, “I’m not an ass. If you need to use it just say so, I’ll stop.”

“N-no.” You shook your head, your hands coming up to push your chest off the couch.

“No?” He chuckled. “Never thought I’d find me a girl who likes to get raped.”

“What!? I never said-“

“Nope, shut your fucking mouth.” He said quickly. Taking off his belt at cracking it over the backs of your thighs.

“Fuck!” You screamed, crying out into the couch cushions. “What was that for!?”

He snorted, whipping you with the hard and unforgiving leather again. A shiver running through him when you whimpered and squeezed your thighs together.

“I want you to fight me.” He leaned down, his gritty voice rumbling in his chest against his back. “I know you got it in you baby, you’re just as sick as I am. You’re just not ready to admit it yet.”

“No! No, I… that’s not something-“

“Before you embarrass yourself further,” he sighed, reaching beneath the boxers you wore, he ran his middle finger up your slit. “feel that?”

He was gloating, enjoying making you squirm uncomfortably from your own desires. Ghost wiped your arousal onto your cheek, leaving a slick trail in its wake that gave away how you really felt.

“My pretty pussy is telling on you Doe.” He chuckled. “Now be a good girl and tell me you got wet at the thought of me raping you on the couch you just fucked your boyfriend on. Tell me you wish you weren’t such a cockslut and desperate for dick so I could’ve raped you up against a fucking brick wall.”

“Ghost…” you whined, wiggling to get away from him, but his full body weight was pinning you in place. “Fine!”

“Fine, okay? Yes!” You grumbled, shooting him a glare over your shoulder as he stood up.

“There we go.” He chuckled, “It’s okay princess, I know you have trouble understanding big words.” He taunted.

“Listening, silence, obeying, submitting.” He cooed, looping his belt around your neck and tugging it like a leash. “Very big words for a very stupid whore.”

He took the knife from the couch cushion and brought the flat side of the cool steel to the burning blush of your cheek, lightly scraping the tip across the apple of your cheek and the delicate skin beneath your eye.

“Getting me a fresh kill of venison for dinner tonight baby.” He chuckled, you envisioned a devilish grin, full lips curved upward.

“Maybe you ought to bite down on this.” He said, smacking you with the tail end of the black leather belt before putting it in your mouth for you. “Hate for you to fuck up those pearly whites.”

He grabbed the collar of your shirt, stabbing the knife through the fabric and ripping a hole down the short sleeve. The blade never came close to your skin but the motion was so quick that you felt a rush of air following behind it that may as well have been just as sharp.

You reached back to smack at his hand, spitting out the leather to scowl and yell at him.

“What is your problem today!? I like this shirt!” You kicked at his shin, connecting your heel to the bone in his leg.

“Goddamnit!” He growled, yanking you up by your leash and holding the tip of the knife to the vulnerable flesh above your Adam’s apple.

“That’s better.” He moaned… he moaned. “Fuck, you feel me Doe?” He asked, pressing his cock of steel against your ass.

You answered with a choked ‘uh huh’, trying not to turn blue in the face from the thick leather necklace he’d given you. He removed the knife and dropped the leash, your hands immediately going to claw at it while you coughed.

“Don’t.” He barked, tugging your hair to get your attention.

“I’ll tell you my ‘problem’.” He growled, using his hands to rip the fabric further, exposing your left shoulder blade.

“My bitch.” He snapped, “fucked her boyfriend on this couch. Right in front of me.”

He brought the knife back down to the fabric and this time he allowed the tip to pierce the skin ever so slightly, letting a bead of blood bubble up on your smooth skin as you cried out in a sharp yelp. Lifting the knife he cut another hole in the shirt, repeating the process until it was less than a rag.

“I’m sorry okay?” You yelled, trying to turn yourself over onto your back, hoping that even if it was an awkward angle that maybe you could get a punch in. If he wanted you to fight, you sure as hell were going to.

“What am I supposed to do? Not fuck him?” You shouted, twisting in his grasp until you were able to push against his chest with one forearm.

“He loves you!” Ghost shouted back and you felt your face fall. “Do you- you love him?” He asked, changing the grip of the knife in his hand to prepare for downward strike.

“Wait! Wait- stop!” You squealed, kicking and squirming away from him.

“Ghost! Stop it. Please!” You whined, your voice getting high pitched and squeaky.

“Tell me.” He barked, dragging you down to the coffee table and forcing you down on it, he kneeled with one knee keeping you pinned there, his other foot firmly on the ground.

“No! I’m not-“ you shouted, thrashing around and landing a solid punch to his stomach. “I won’t tell you that!”

He groaned, the sensitive area of his abdomen felt a dull but consistent throbbing. No time to congratulate you on knocking the wind out of a grown man though, he had to get right back to business.

“You won’t?” He laughed, taking the knife and gliding the flat side over the tender flesh of your inner thigh, quickly jerking his wrist and leaving a thin line of red behind.

You swore you saw him physically shudder at the sight of your blood, you are certain however, that you saw him palm his cock.

“Why don’t you wanna tell me?” He asked, his tone sounding cheeky disguised as menacing.

Ghost ripped through the seam of the boxers you wore, pulling them off and exposing your his pussy for his eyes to feast on.

“It’s not your business!” You snapped back and immediately felt the punishment inflicted on your most sensitive area. His gloved hand smacking your pussy with a wet *clap* that drew a scream from deep within the depths of your chest.

“Like hell it is!” He yelled back, barely controlled rage was beginning to ooze from his eyes behind his mask.

“Do you love him?” He repeated, smacking your clit and sending a sharp jolt from your head to your toes while you gritted your teeth and dug your nails into your palms.

“Fucking whore.” He groaned, looking down at your quivering legs and dripping cunt as a new wave of arousal drenched your pussy.

“You don’t have to tell me you love this.” He grumbled, “I can see it.”

You felt something hard and cool circling your entrance, the temperature contrast causing you to gasp and Ghost took that as the perfect opportunity to slide the twin handles of his knife deep into your cunt. His leather glove encased the sharpness of the blade, but that didn’t stop the streak of pure fear that flooded your senses.

The panic was slowly replaced with a new kind of pleasure, one that was dull and curling. Tugging at the muscles encasing your most intimate organs, as if he were trying to ‘cut’ his way into your womb and stake his claim before Anakin could.

It was embarrassing the way you so quickly switched up your attitude. Formerly angry and mouthy, now your brain was too muddled to feel anything but submissive. Ghost was behind you, filming the filthy act with the flash on, acting as though he might suffer a heart attack before he could make you cum. His filming hand was shaky and his chest was heaving in an uneven rhythm.

“Fuck. You’re- I...” He breathed out, “Gods, what the fuck have you done to me?” He asked in a higher pitched voice that almost dropped out of the voice modification.

“C-can’t even stick to my own plans, y-you just…” he grunted, withdrawing the knife handles, watching your cunt clench around them as if trying to suck them back inside.

“Don’t you move, you hear me?” He barked, kneeing you in the side when you didn’t answer him.

“Ow! Fine!” You snapped back at him, trying to turn your head to look at him behind you when his foot came up and gently flexed forward to push your head back to the side.

“You wanna see what I’m doing?” He asked, not waiting for you to answer as he walked in from of where you laid, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees lazily.

He pinched the knife by the blade between his forefinger, middle and thumb to waggle it in your face. He chuckled at your reaction to seeing your creamy juices coating the handles. He lifted the chin of his mask up slightly, still being careful not to show the slightest sliver of skin as he brought the handles to his lips and sucked them clean. His groan of approval came out distorted, not quite modified, not quite natural.

“Shit.” You whispered, resting your forehead on the cool wood of the coffee table.

“Alright.” He stood up. “Listen, listen good okay?”

You nodded, “Yes Sir.”

“That’s more like it.” He laughed, “Get your ass over there and bend over like I had you before.”

He pointed to the couch with one hand and absentmindedly twirled and flipped the knife in his other while he watched you do as he asked.

“I’m going to do what I want. For as long as I want.” He said plainly. “This isn’t about you. This is about me.”

“Do you understand?” He asked in a tight, clipped sentence.

“Yes Sir.”

“If you want to cum, do it yourself.” He grumbled, “better bite down on that belt baby.”

He stalked over to you and pushed his jeans down around his knees and pulled out his angry red tipped cock. Without hesitation, with no forethought, he plunged himself deep into your cunt and started off with a deep and hard pace. It might’ve been pleasurable had he not decided he’d try to fuck your guts.

He, nor had anyone else, ever pushed so deeply past your folds. Yes he’d kissed your cervix with his cockhead before, so had Anakin. But this? This was beyond that.

In his right hand he gripped your hair, using it as leverage while you futilely tried to stop yourself from jostling around so much by holding onto the backrest of the couch with one hand and the front end with the other.

It was quite useless in Ghost’s opinion, he laughed as he watched you struggle. Each thrust was so forceful that by the end of this brutal punishment you believed he’d have rearranged your living room furniture. The couch scraping across the floor inch by inch.

“Fuck.” He grunted. “I fucking needed this.” He breathed out, his upper body wracked with a shudder as he moaned loudly.

“Perfect little painslut.” Ghost gritted out, you imagined from the way the words left his lips he might need the belt between your teeth more than you did.

“I could fuck this hole- fuck it till it’s raw and sore and bleeding.” He groaned, “And even then, I wouldn’t be finished with you.”

“Shit-“ he gasped, leaning forward he put you in a headlock, his muscles constricted around your throat.

Ghost rested his forehead against the back of your head, looking down your curved back to see your ass rippling with each slap of skin on skin.

“Gonna fuck my cum so deep inside you,” Ghost’s hips stuttered. “so damn deep that stupid little pill will be useless.” He barked out the last part, the true aggression in his voice sent a shiver through you that made a cold sweat break out on the back of your neck.

“Hmph… oh damnit.” He shuddered, slowing down for just a moment to savor the high he felt from feeling your cunt milking him dry.

“You keep moaning like that and your boy across the hall will hear you.” He chuckled, releasing you from the headlock and pushing down on the small of your back to keep you in place, hearing the swish and click of him closing the rose handled knife, feeling it pressed against your hip bone as he held on.

“S-slow please.” You choked out while drooling down the belt between your teeth, feeling as though he might split you in half if he carried on this way.

“I told you to lay here and take it didn’t I?” He grunted, smacking your ass punishment.

“My pussy. My rules.” He barked.

“W-what?” You moaned out, trying to focus your mind on those words, rather than the way he sped up and stole your breath.

“Christ, you’re stupid.” he muttered to himself.

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s your safe word.” He growled, shoving your head down into the couch cushions.

Using quick shallow strokes he leaned back to change the angle slightly, making him choke out a half sob at the way your cunt gripped him. His hand left your hip again to flick out the knife blade and drag the cold steel down your spine. He stopped halfway and veered off to the left, digging the sharpened edge of the blade into the thin skin stretched over your ribs.

“Holy-“ you chomped down on the leather belt in your mouth so hard that it squeaked.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He breathed out, for the first time quiet enough that his modifier didn’t catch it… and neither did you.

“You liked that didn’t you?” His chest rumbling as he spoke. “I felt you squeezing me.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he thinly smeared the blood in a line across your back with the flat side of the blade until he found a suitable spot for a slight nick that had you jolting in surprise.

“Nasty girl.” He chuckled, “you like being fucked dumb and sliced up?”

“Uh huh.” You whimpered, gripping the couch cushions while Ghost leaned back to watch his cock plunging hard and fast into your pussy.

Creamy white cum and your slick coated the base of his cock, he desperately tried to hold himself back from another orgasm but it was damn near impossible when you had just openly admitted to liking his blade on your skin.

Your right ass cheek seemed the best place to cut next, he wanted to feel the warmth of your life dripping from the wound and down his thigh. He wanted to stain his body red in hopes of forming a blood bond, could he convince you to try that?

A surprisingly throaty moan left your lips and tumbled out in a long release of breath, his blade carving a diagonal line that leaked deep ichor down your beautiful skin. The sight of it being smeared and splattered with each piston of his hips had him buckling at the knees.

“Oh my-“ Ghost moaned, his knife clattering to the floor as he grabbed both your hips, purposely spreading the gorgeous red liquid across your skin as he went. “Didn’t think you could get any prettier.” He whispered in a hoarse voice.

He tightened his grip and listened to the squelch and slap of his cock bullying your insides, to the sweet sounds leaving your lips. He basked in the warm drip of your blood and the feeling of your pussy wrapped lovingly around him.

It was all so much. Too much.

With a few more brutal thrusts he came hard, his breath being stolen from his lungs as he shot his load into your depths.

“Fuck yes.” He gritted out, needing some kind of extra outlet for the intense adrenaline and endorphin rush he was experiencing, he punched the wall beside him without a second thought, denting the dry wall and smearing blood. “Hell fuckin’ yes baby.”

“Ghost!” You gasped and flinched at the *crack* of his fist making contact with the wall, “Can you ju-“

“Face down and close your fucking eyes,” he growled, shoving his cock back in his pants and tugging his jeans up. He saw you begin to part your lips and he interrupted. “that wasn’t a question goddamnit!”

You obeyed, closing your eyes and pressing your face into the couch cushions, hearing rustling coming from behind you. Ghost tossed his mask on the coffee table and took off his sweatshirt and tshirt, scrunching the shirt to create a makeshift blindfold, there was no time to go to your room and get the nice pretty silk handkerchief he’d bought for this purpose exactly. He needed this now.

He slipped it over you head and tightened it, then you felt the weight of his body push down on the couch cushion beside you, his still-gloved hands grabbing you by the shoulders and manhandling you over to sit sideways in his lap.

“What are- oh my god.” You gasped quietly feeling his bare skin for the first time, leather gloves guided you out of what was left of your shirt.

“Gh-“ You wanted to know why. Why was he doing this? Why now? But he shut you up by pulling you flush against his chest and descending upon your mouth.

He kissed you like his life depended on it. He kissed you like death when he lifts your soul from your lips. Ghost kissed you like you were the one who was consuming him. It was messy, desperate, and horribly quiet. The only noises being that of your lips and tongue clashing together and the sound of your mixed heavy breathing.

He was maskless. He couldn’t speak, he didn’t even want to let loose a single moan. So you did, you made enough noise for the both of you. Breathless gasps and whiny ‘mhhhhmm’s pierced his skull and wormed their way into his brain to take up permanent residency.

He had a tongue piercing… unexpected but definitely not unwanted. The metallic clicking was hypnotic in a way, tongues dueling carelessly between the two of you, so eager to taste more, to feel more. You know now that the strange, smooth thing that had accompanied his tongue while he had licked at your folds to wake you up, was the same jewelry that ran across the roof of your mouth while you felt up every square inch of bare skin on his body.

You never imagined that flesh could be such a sexy thing. Of course, it’s nice to look at on the body of someone you’re attracted to. Though feeling the flesh of a man who’d deprived you of seeing it, touching it; it was better than any drug on the market. With your brain fuzzy and addled with repeating thoughts of Ghost, he only made it worse by bringing your hand down to feel his half hard cock.

He had explored you in endless ways, countless times and now he was finally giving you the opportunity to do just alittle bit of the same for him. It didn’t last long however. Soon enough he was back to the domineering presence you’d come to know.

Slower this time, more carefully, he laid you back down on your stomach on the couch. Ghost pulled both your palms up to your ears to encourage you to create a sound barrier between you and whatever it was that he was about to do.

His tender lips caressing your back in feathery kisses, gentle and loving in a way you’d never received from Ghost before. His lips then made their way to your still trickling wounds, licking up the blood around the nick mark, a simple and tiny cut that was easily cleaned up. The longer, deeper wound across your ribs prompted him to get down on his knees in front of the couch.

Ghost leaned forward and licked the length of the bloody split in your flesh. A deep, rumbling moan left his unashamed lips. He was so unashamed in fact, that he found himself instantly rock hard again.

That just wouldn’t do. This is about him after all.

So he pulled himself free once more and spit a mixture of your blood and his saliva into his glove, setting to work on his throbbing and greedy cock. As he pumped his shaft his lips sucked and pulled at the wounded skin on your side, draining it of blood only to pull back and watch the pretty red reappear.

“That stings!” you whined as you pushed his head away.

A puff of air from his nose was your only response before he swatted your hand away and returned it to your ear. He did listen though, choosing to gently lap it up until the flow stopped almost completely.

Languidly stroking himself he held his breath for a moment, afraid he might let out a whimper more embarrassing than he ever had before. He moved behind you once more and licked up the blood from the last cut he’d made. He lapped up the last trickles of blood from your soft skin and kneeled behind you. Tapping your hip he signaled you to arch your back and lift up so he could get a better view of your poor abused cunt.

The pink and puffy folds looked even more enticing as he spit a fat glob of your bloody mixture at your center.

“Can’t… Ghost please.” You whined, your body sore and aching from overuse. “No more, I can’t.”

There was no verbal answer. Ghost ignored your pleas and left them unpunished, repositioning himself at your sopping wet hole. He easily slid in, letting out a shaky breath at the feel of your heated gummy walls. Slowly he rocked his hips into you, gently as though he were trying to soothe you after all the rough treatment.

You let yourself relax and accept his tender touches and unspoken apology. You were shaking from exhaustion, your mind too blank to do anything other than breathe and feel the pleasure of his cock moving inside you. With your ears still covered Ghost took the opportunity to tell you something that he’d been terrified of doing.

“My little doe.” He whispered as quietly as he could, “It’s me. It’s Anakin.”

Diary Entry: August 29th

Honestly doll. I don’t know how you survived yesterday, if my dick hurts… I can only imagine how your poor little pussy feels.

You handled it so well. Taking inch after inch, over and over again for me. All. Damn. Day.

The best part? You loved every second of it just as much as I knew you would. You loved the rough way I fucked you as myself. The loving way I made you mine.

But the way you took Ghost… after tucking away that little piece of Anakin that lives in him, (the bit that won’t fucking stick to the goddamn plan because you’re so… there’s not even a word for it. You know what I mean though.) I got to do what I needed.

Damn I desperately needed it. Don’t get me wrong little doe, I love regular sex with you. You know, the normal kind of kinky. A bit of hair pulling, some spanking, a little spit, the baby steps to the bigger shit.

The kind of kinky last night is the kind of shit that would get me committed if my mother found out about it. But is it really my fault that you’re so fuckable? No. It’s not. It’s not my fault that your pussy just so happens to fit the handles of my knife. It’s not my fault that you liked it either.

You can’t even be mad, so don’t go pretending you are next time I see you as Ghost. You can’t be mad because you leaked that sweet pussy nectar down my cock for two hours and 13 minutes, last night. Never heard the safe word and I’m not convinced that I will ever hear it.

You freaky bitch.

If I wasn’t already as depraved as I am, I’d be a bit concerned. You really tried your best to fight me, you tried your best to listen, you put in the effort. But your tiny little brain can only handle so much cock before it turns to mush. That’s my favorite, when I feel you start to relax, feel your breath change, see those pretty eyes go hazy. My perfect sex doll.

I like it when you go limp.

You know what I really liked about last night? I could feel the exact moment that I pushed you past a ledge you’d never even seen coming on the horizons of your imagination. You started to *shake*. You were limp and shaking beneath me, so exhausted you couldn’t muster up the strength to hold yourself up anymore. So drained that you couldn’t even moan correctly anymore.

And you still let me keep fucking you.

I can officially say that I have fucked you awake, I have fucked you in your sleep and I have fucked you to sleep.

I joked about it as myself with you, made you take your meds early and everything, I held you in my arms and let you wean yourself off my fingers and fall into dreamland.

But Ghost was relentless in his efforts to make you go unconscious via dick. I decided I earned a little treat for that. I haven’t decided what it will be yet but I’ll make it good. How many men can say that they’ve lovingly fucked someone into unconsciousness?

Oh! Just me? Nice.

So, you know I love the way your pussy tastes, but let me tell you something I never thought would leave my lips. I found something that is almost a tie for first place.

You bleed so beautifully. It’s truly a spectacle to behold, the crimson just compliments your skin so well. Next time… I’m taking off my gloves. I need to feel it in my hands, that slippery warmth that gives you the radiant life you live. That’s the closest I’ll ever get to holding your soul.

The coppery sweetness was more delicious that the finest wine that money can buy. I don’t give a shit if it’s got notes of birchwood and bullshit. Nothing can compare.

I get it now, the whole thing with people thinking vampires are sexy. What could be hotter than draining the life flowing through the veins of the one you love? What could top that ego boost from the trust you placed in me when I put that blade against your skin? I held the key to your existence in that moment, you’d be gone if I had stuck the blade in and twisted it to unlock death’s door.

But let’s not even think of that, I’d die before I ever let you.

Let’s focus on how rude it is that our blood types are not the same. I would’ve signed myself up for phlebotomy schooling if we shared blood types. Give myself a weekly transfusion. Humane and more socially acceptable vampirism.

Oh well, I prefer to taste it anyway.

It’s like a savory type of chocolate. You know those molten lava cakes? That’s what it’s like to cut into you and have a bite.

P.s. It was so fucking cute how you reacted to my bare skin and kisses. I used to be the one on the verge of collapse at every slight touch, seems like we’ve switched places.

P.p.s. I will be replacing your book and fixing your walls. I’m not sure what came over me when I punched the wall, that was like very uncalled for. Oops.

DATE

August 29th

When you awoke after your night of… activities, you were sore and tired in a way you hadn’t ever been before. Like the will to stand on your own two feet had been forcibly taken from you. As much as you wanted to get up and be productive, the ache between your legs refused to allow you any relief from the discomfort you felt. You needed to go to the hardware store and find something to fix the walls before Anakin came over later.

It would be difficult enough to come up with a cover story for the cuts across your back, but impossible to give a reason for the cracked drywall and the knife blade shaped slit in the opposite side. Once you finally gathered up enough determination to brave the wobble of your knees you stood up and exited your bedroom.

Ghost was too busy chatting, flicking the end of Boogie’s tail while he waited for your coffee to brew, to notice you’d waddled out of your bed to go to the bathroom. You could barely make out the faint white of his mask in the dim, curtain-blocked, morning light of the kitchenette, out of instinct you flipped the light switch and screeched in surprise.

You’d truly thought you might’ve just imagined him standing there and were shocked to realize he was flesh and bone. A flash of pale skin and black ink disappeared behind the counter top and re-emerged covered in leather. He had taken off one of his gloves to give Boogie some good morning pet-pets.

“Sorry doe.” He said apologetically, “I didn’t mean to spook you.”

“What are you doing?” You asked, your hand still resting on the light switch.

“Having a philosophical meeting of the minds.” He said, tapping Boogie on top of her head.

You scowled, “Anakin will kill you if he comes here and sees you. He has a key you know.”

“He won’t kill me.” Ghost chuckled, “He’s got a key? Nifty, so do I!” He added sarcastically.

“You didn’t really answer my question. Why are you still here?” You asked, eyes searching the room for anything out of order.

“Mmm yeah, that’s not what you asked me.” He chuckled, pulling open your silverware drawer and grabbing a spoon. “I’m not still here. I came back.” He answered as he scooped an unhealthy amount of sugar into your hello kitty mug.

“Okay… but why?” You held your hand palm up in questioning.

“I have important business to attend to.” He shrugged, pouring your coffee for you and stirring it into the sugar.

You pursed your lips but didn’t argue back, your eyes flicked back down to his now covered hand and back up to his face before turning to finish your initial quest.

“Where ya going baby?” He asked, staying behind the counter with his hands in his pockets.

“I have to pee.” You mumbled.

“M’kay.” His filtered voice rumbled as he turned to stop the microwave from dinging to signal your brown sugar oatmeal was finished cooking.

He did not however catch your cinnamon swirl toast in time and the shrill noise the appliance made sent the cat scrambling off the counter and knocking a few miscellaneous items into the floor. He stooped down and picked them up, placing them back on the counter top.

After your food was ready he sat it at the bar for you to sit and eat at while he got to work on setting out the supplies he’d bought to fix the walls and clean the couch. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door with two knuckles.

“Hey, you have some gloves in there don’t you? Like for when you dye your hair?” He asked, having realized it would probably be difficult to spackle the walls in leather gloves.

“Yes?” You responded confusedly.

“Good, open the door.”

“What? No!” You scoffed, standing naked and preparing to hop in the shower.

“Doe just open the damn door.” He grumbled, listening to you rustle around behind the locked door.

“Here.” You huffed, opening it just a crack and thrusting your hand out to drop the gloves into his.

“Thanks. You should hurry, I made you breakfast.” He said in an oddly warm tone.

“You did?” You asked, opening the door just a bit more to look at him.

“Yeah. I know you well enough to know you planned on going straight to that couch and not moving until forced to.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “I also know you well enough that I called in sick for you today.”

You stared at him for a minute, he called your work for you? That means someone at your work must’ve heard his real voice right? A bubble of jealousy formed in your gut at the thought that one of your coworkers heard Ghost’s voice before you did.

“What?” He asked sharply.

“Nothing… thank you.” You shook your head, eyes wide as you contemplated calling the diner to ask if they recognized the voice.

You mulled it over while you were in the shower, weighed the pros and cons while dressing yourself in some lounge clothes, and thoroughly pondered it as you ate your breakfast and watched Ghost work.

It was comical to see him being so domestic, kind of like seeing a documentary about a wolf pup raised as a house pet. It could snap and destroy the house, destroy you at any moment. Just like Ghost.

But there he was, Fixing his mistake in the most calm and collected way possible. It was a soothing process to watch, score the damaged drywall with an exacto knife, break it off in a clean, straight line with a satisfying snap. Cut the mesh to cover the now smooth edged square of missing drywall, **zzzzrrip** the weirdly thin and fabric-y tape to hold it in place. Then came the best part, watching him patch it over with pink spackle, smooth it out as best he could then watch it turn from pink to greyish white as it dried.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” You asked, sipping your coffee and staring at his hands. The thin blue latex was almost stretched enough to make out the blob of the tattoo you’d caught sight of earlier.

“Summer job as a teenager.” He answer shortly, it’s not like he could give specifics. He’d spoken of his handyman work with his god-father to you before.

“So you don’t work in construction or something like currently?” You asked, trying to cross out a few ‘maybe’ identities of people tall enough and lean enough to fit Ghost’s build.

“No.” He snorted and looked over at you, his knowing smile might as well have been visible from the body language.

“Don’t give me that look.” You huffed, “I’m narrowing down my list.”

“I know you are.” He laughed. “That’s why it’s funny.”

“Well I know you don’t work in construction and you have a hand tattoo…” You crossed your arms and scrunched up your nose to accompany a sassy head bobble.

You’d caught his attention, he turned to fully face you, one arm across his chest and the other’s elbow resting on his fist as he held the putty knife covered in spackle away from his body.

“Hand tattoo?” He repeated in low accusatory way.

“Yeah, you have one.” You pointed toward the hand he held the putty knife in.

“What is it?” He asked, walking a few steps forward.

“I don’t know I just saw a blur of it earlier this morning.” You said, shifting uncomfortably in your chair.

He stood and stared, studying your expression and seeking the truth. After finding no evidence of deceit he nodded and turned back to resume his work on the wall. Every so often you caught him taking a peek over his shoulder at you, like he was suspicious after hearing you’d seen a part of him he hadn’t willingly shown you.

“Are you mad?” You asked anxiously, his whole demeanor had changed so quickly that it was a bit frightening and not in a good way.

“No.” The word was clipped and gruff as he cleaned up his tool and put the lid on the small bucket of spackle.

He walked back to the other wall and sanded the, now dry, patch until it was smooth enough to paint over and blend into the wall as if nothing had happened. You walked over and had planned to sit down on the couch but you realized it covered in some kind of weird clumpy power and damp to the touch.

“Gross, what is this?” You whipped your head around to ask Ghost.

“OxyClean and dish soap.”

“Why?”

“You bled all over the couch.” He responded, you hadn’t seen any blood spots, but there were definitely wet patches where he’d scrubbed the upholstery. He’d also… super glued the knife slash in the fabric back together, how very him of him.

“Okay but like why is it still on the couch?” You asked curiously.

“It needed to sit for longer.” He huffed like he was irritated with your questions.

“Oh, well I can finish it then.” You offered, hoping it might appease him.

“No, I started it. I will finish it.” He kept his words clipped, not hiding that he wasn’t interested in speaking to you right now.

“Okay then.” You snapped back at him, turning on your heel and stomping back to your bedroom and slamming the door shut.

The sharp noise startled Ghost and he whipped his head around instinctively. His jaw clenched tightly, upset with himself for being upset with himself. He didn’t mean to be an ass either, he just needed some time to accept that he’d fucked up and almost exposed his identity because he wanted to pet the fucking cat.

He groaned and turned back around, pounding lightly on his forehead of his mask with both fists in frustration. Bending down to pick up his cup but knocking it over and spilling what was left in it.

“Are you fuckin’ serious?“ he growled and gritted his teeth “damnit!”

Lucky for Ghost he wasn’t using a glass cup, no shattered mess to clean up. He instead was unlucky enough to be using a large metal, insulated tumbler, which made a very loud and reverberating *dtink* when he kicked it with his socked foot across the living room. Before the cup had the chance to land he had already picked up his foot and leaned one arm on the wall as he flexed his toes, it fucking hurt and his fist collided with the wall in anger, this time going straight through the drywall and into the wooden bracers behind it.

“Aw- fuck, goddamnit,” he pulled his fist from the wall and shook it out, grabbing his wrist and rolling his hand while flexing his fingers, “stupid son of a-“

“I need a cigarette.” He huffed, not bothering to put on shoes as he stalked over to the window and opened it, grabbing his bag on the way.

Diary Entry: August 30th

Sorry for putting three holes in the wall.

I’ll admit that was alittle bit much. But it’s all fixed now and in the past so let’s not dwell on it. We’ve got more important things to do! Like taking you to the movies for a little date night.

Some kind of comedy thing for girls. I’m expecting it to be like that one with Melissa McCarthy. It looks stupid as hell which is a good thing because it’ll be funny even if it’s not. I don’t really care what we watch, you just told me no romance cause it’s ‘cheesy’.

Which makes no sense because your whole bookshelf is a giant collection of random species bangin’ each other. I mean seriously, I cracked one open cause the cover looked pretty and the first thing I saw was ‘the muscular werewolf thrust his-‘

That’s as far as I got before I went blind from fear.

DATE

August 31st

Anakin whistled low and gave you a cheeky smirk that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Seeing you coming into your bedroom in just a towel, skin still damp from the shower. You popped your head up with a slight gasp of surprise, not realizing he’d come in while you were still in the bathroom.

“Sh-“ you grinned, realizing it was just him and shook your head at him. “You scared me!”

“Boo.” He snickered as he laid back in your bed with his arms resting behind his head, his legs crossed at the ankles.

“Ani, are we going casual or are we going fancy?” You asked, walking over to your closet and flicking through clothes.

You looked over your shoulder to get his opinion and had to do a double take, your cat walked across the bed and kneaded Anakin’s shirt before laying down on his chest. A flash of an image that you refused to see clearly tried to blend with the scene before you.

“Ah-Anakin?” You asked in a slightly louder voice. “Clothes?” You blinked a few times, trying to rid yourself of the lines forming between your eyebrows.

“Oh sorry doll, I got distracted.” He cleared his throat and tossed his phone aside. “Clothes? Whatever you want, you’re pretty in everything.”

“I’m wearing this.” He added gesturing to the ripped black jeans and a Vulvodynia tshirt. “And my TUKs for my tootsies.” He pointed toward the bedroom door where the lace up boots sat neatly against the wall.

“So how about this then?” You held up a shirt and a pair of pants on their hangers.

“I told you whatever you want babydoll.” He chuckled, “although if you really want my opinion I’ll give it to you.”

“I really do.” You nodded, jutting out your hip.

“Keep the shirt… grab that one real long skirt, the one with the open bit on the side.” He said, reaching down to trace a line up his calf to his knee. “Maybe those sandals with the thick bottoms.”

“A skirt?” You asked, making a face.

“Doll, you know I like it when you wear skirts and dresses.” He poked out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re my girl, my pretty princess no matter what you wear… but you did ask for my opinion.” He tilted his head, toying with his lip ring and nodding toward your closet.

You got out the long black maxi skirt and paired it the shirt and shoes, walking over to the bedside. Anakin shooed off the cat and sat up to swing his lanky legs off the edge of the bed, he reached up to tuck your shirt into the high-hemmed waistband and then tugged it back out slightly to make it alittle loose.

“Damn. That’s my baby.” His voice low and gritty as he stood up to wrap his arms around your waist, his hands pressing you close to his chest to give you a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“C’mon sweet girl.” He patted your ass to get you moving, following behind you to slip into his boots.

“Wait, hold on.” You said, holding up a finger and jogging to your bathroom, re-emerging with a lint roller.

“Really?” He groaned and pulled the hem of his shirt to make the fabric taut.

“Yes really. When you wear all black and live with a cat you have to lint roll yourself Ani.” You rolled your eyes and aggressively rolled the sticky paper over his clothes.

“It’s a waste of paper, it’s bad for the environment.” He mumbled, turning around to let you get his back too.

“Your attitude is bad for my environment.” You muttered under your breath.

“What did you just say?” He snickered.

“You heard me.” You grinned, tossing the lint rolled back into the bathroom cabinet.

“Yes I did. I’m just a bit confused, when did we have children and why are you the father?” He snorted.

“Ha-ha, we’ve both made dad jokes. Let’s go.” With your hands on mid back you pushed him toward the door, making him laugh.

Waiting in line for popcorn with Anakin took much longer than you would’ve liked and he was beginning to get antsy. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips and his chin resting atop your head, clicking his teeth together to the tune of some song stuck in his head. His fingers drumming along as well, tapping across your hip bones.

“Oh thank fuck.” He sighed dramatically, stepping to the side of you and grabbing your drinks and popcorn.

“You act like we didn’t just eat like two hours ago.” You rolled your eyes and gave him a smile, watching him hold both drinks and the huge bucket of popcorn.

He bent his head down and ate a few pieces straight from the bucket, “That was two hours ago, this is now.” He swallowed and went right back in for another bite or two.

“You know I can carry something. So you can eat with your hands.” You laughed, passing by other theater rooms on the way to yours.

“No, I got it sweetheart.” He said softly, giving you a warm look. “I’m pretty good with my mouth anyway. Aren’t I baby?” He teased, licking the inside of his cheek while he watched your cheeks heat up.

“Shh!” You giggled and grabbed his upper arm, steering him into the correct theater room and up the steps to the top row. “Yes, you are.”

“Hands too?” He asked after putting your cups in the cup holders and helping you get settled. He lifted up the armrest between the two of you and snaked his arm behind you, scooting you closer and squeezing your ass.

“Hands too.” You whispered, the blush on your cheeks was red hot by now and you were thankful for the dark and sparse room.

“What about my c-“

“Perfect!” You said quickly, clapping your hand over his mouth while Anakin chortled behind your palm.

“Poor little princess?” He cooed, pinching your thigh and making you squirm. “Feeling all flustered? Out in public? Naughty thing.”

“Anakin Skywalker!” You whisper-shouted smacking at his hand that wandered from your ass to your upper thigh.

“Bet I could make you cum before the previews are over.” He leaned down, his lips brushing your earlobe.

“It’s okay babydoll, it’s just you and me up here.” His voice was soothing and much too convincing to ignore completely. Especially when he sat aside the popcorn in the next seat over and palmed his cock to adjust himself.

His hand gripped the back of your neck and tilted your head toward him, his lips meeting yours in a slow, sensual dance. He bunches up your skirt to your knees, picking up on leg and hooking it over his thigh to give him easier access.

“Need you to be quiet pretty girl, think you can do that f’me?” Anakin’s deep, sultry voice fanned over your jaw as he kissed the side of your neck.

“Mhm.” You nodded, keeping your mouth closed to avoid the moan you knew was going to follow his fingers slipping past your panties and running through the slick mess between your pussy lips.

“Keep that mouth open.” He whispered, smiling when you obeyed, dropping your jaw slightly “That’s a good girl.”

Anakin swirled his fingers around your entrance, twisting his wrist slowly as he gently pushed inside. Scissoring his fingers along the top wall, focusing the varied pressure on the spongey spot that took your breath away.

He smiled, tucking his head against your neck, tilting it to the side as he rocked his hand against you, “Grind on my hand princess, show me how nasty my angel can be.”

The heel of his palm was pressed firmly against your clit to help you get the friction you needed as his fingers worked their magic on your inner walls. Massaging wide circles as you bucked against his hand.

“Ani…” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and trying to move his hand away.

“Shh.” He silenced you with his lips on yours, his tongue laving away at yours. His soft, plump lips cradling yours in a moment of pure brain fog for you. He’d completely erased your knowledge of your surroundings, blacked your vision and muffled the sounds around you until all you could hear was his heartbeat as he put his hand over your mouth and tucked your head against his chest.

“Doing so good f’me,” he whispered into your hair, “you’re gonna cum when I tell you to okay?”

“You think you can handle that princess?” He asked, pressing his warm lips to your temple.

You nodded, tilting your head back to look up at his crystal blue eyes. He gave you a soft smile, kissed the tip of your nose and nudged your cheek so that you’d turn your head to the side. He licked the shell of your ear, nibbling along the curve of the cartilage down to your earlobe, his hot breath fanning over your flesh.

“I love you.” He whispered, telling you again and not expecting an answer, even though you gave him one nonverbally.

Your pussy squeezing his fingers tightly in response to the words, he wasn’t convinced that it could just be coincidence so he said it again, his voice gritty and low.

“I love you, my girl.” He kissed your jaw, his lips curving into a smile when he felt your pussy flutter again.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled lowly, pulling back to see your eyes rolling back in your head. He shifted his hand over your mouth slightly and pinched your nose, cutting off your air supply completely.

You tried to suck in a deep breath out of surprise, getting choked on nothing as a result, your eyes opened in panic but you calmed slightly seeing the serene and loving look on Anakin’s face.

“Ready?” He asked, watching your face.

“Three.” He whispered, speeding up his ministrations, your hands clenching tightly, nails digging into your fists, your vision getting blurry.

“Two.” His thumb moving your clit and flicking over it rapidly, making you jump and whimper behind his hand.

“Shhh quiet.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head and breathing in your scent as your lungs began to burn.

“One.” His lips brushing across your ear have you cold chills down your back as you willed yourself to stay as silent as possible while Anakin cradled your head to his chest, he released your nose to let you breathe. The rush of lightheadedness made you cum even harder, curling yourself up against him and trapping his hand between your thighs.

You stayed like that for a moment, catching your bearings and recalibrating your senses. After he released your mouth you did the same for his hand, but kept your legs draped over him for the comfort of having him hold you. He sucked his fingers clean and wiped them off on his jeans, picking up his drink and taking a long sip of blue slushee just as the title card of the movie flashed on screen.

“See, told you.” He said casually, his other arm around your waist, rubbing your side languidly.

——————————————————————————

“You look so sleepy.” Anakin laughed, petting your hair as he walked with you up the stairs in your apartment building.

“I am so sleepy!” You pouted.

“Oh poor wee baby.” He cooed, pinching your sides and picking you up to lug you over his shoulder down the hall to your apartment.

“It’s only 9:00pm.” He said, unlocking your door and setting you down in the entryway. “You ready for bed?”

“Yes, extremely.” You nodded, shuffling toward your bathroom to take off your makeup and brush your hair.

“Well shit baby, did I really mess you up that bad?” He asked, following behind you with a guilty look on his face.

It was your turn to feel guilty now. You can’t tell him the truth can you? The lies and omissions were beginning to affect you in ways you hadn’t expected. You were beginning to see things that simply couldn’t be reality, making making connections by snipping threads and tying the ends in an order that forced things to make sense.

You felt your palms begin to sweat and couldn’t meet his pretty blue eyes as you lied to the man who loves you.

“Mhm.” You nodded, your eyes flickering to his brow bone to give the illusion you were gazing into his eyes just as adoringly as he was looking into yours. “You’ve been wearing me out Ani.”

“In a good way? Have I hurt you?” He asked, cupping your cheeks up with his soft, careful hands.

Did you even deserve those soft touches?

“Oh, no Ani you didn’t hurt me.” You shook your head quickly.

‘At least that wasn’t a lie.’

“Okay princess… do you need me to get you anything?” Anakin took the washcloth from your hands and finished wiping the black streaks from under your eyes, grabbing the brush and running it through your hair. The bristles scratching your scalp just the way you like it.

“No, just you.” Your quiet voice floated up to him, he watched your lips moving in the mirror and it was clear to him that something had severely dulled your mood.

“Alright, let’s put you to bed then sweetheart.” He set aside your brush, kissing the top of your head and steering you toward the bedroom.

Anakin squeezed your shoulder and turned away to retrieve a pair of pajamas, a matching set you’d put on and took right back off just a few days ago. The sight of it nearly caused you to burst into tears, it was just fabric, nothing more that soft threads and stitching. Though seeing it in his hands made you feel sick to your stomach.

He handed them to you with a soft smile, slipping from his jeans and out of his shirt until he was left in just his boxers. He flung back the covers and snuggled down under the blankets on your side of the bed.

“What are you doing?” You asked, the corner of your lip twitching into a smile.

“A certain little lady hates cold sheets, so I’m making ‘em warm.” He said as he pulled the covers over his head with a contented ‘mmm’.

He was sweet, too sweet for you. Too kind, too thoughtful, too good. You were right about him in the beginning, he is too good to be true, though it’s no fault of his own. It’s you who is to be blamed.

With the lights switched off and the bedroom door shut, you magnetized yourself to Anakin after he had rolled into his spot and pulled you to his chest. His warmth seeping through your flesh as a balm for the wounded soul that wallowed in the center of your chest.

Diary Entry: August 31st

Have I let this go on for too long?

I feel like I’ve pushed us past the point of no return, your stress around me, my myself… it’s tangible. Like you’re worried you’ll say or do the wrong thing. I never intended for that. I didn’t intend for this to go on as long as it has at all.

I should’ve banished Ghost to The Pit after you’d accepted me into your life. I should’ve hung up the mask and retired my persona. I’ve always had trouble knowing when enough is enough, when to stop. It’s a difficulty that I’ve yet to overcome and probably never will.

It’s confusing for me, I can only imagine how confusing it is for you. You’re in the middle of it all, you are the center of my world, the sun in my star system. And because you are my everything, I will do anything to keep it that way. To keep you.

DATE

September 2nd

Anakin paced the living room of his apartment, his thoughts traveling faster than a bullet train with a nitro boost. You would be arriving any minute now, you called your sister, you called Luke, but you texted him.

Yes he could hear your calls, but that only gave him half the information he needed. Information you were on your way to share with him.

Anakin was disappointed in himself. He should’ve bugged your backpack long ago, you take it almost everywhere. He could’ve caught the conversation you shared with your sister over lunch the day before. He would’ve been prepared for news, he would’ve had time to plan and time to practice.

What other conversations had he missed out on? Who else have you spoken to?

He was so caught up in his pondering and pacing that he failed to notice your appearance at the bottom of the stairwell, showcased on his laptop.

“Shit.” He muttered, palms tingling before beginning to sweat as he heard the doorknob click and turn. Anakin rushed to the coffee table and shut his laptop quickly, just as you entered the room.

You glanced toward his hand on the sleek metal and up to his face, a blank expression met you where there would usually be a wide goofy grin. You started to say something but stopped short when your phone buzzed, glancing down at it as you lifted the screen upward a *ping* sounded on Anakin’s laptop.

You watched as he picked it up and opened it to view the screen, he sat down heavily on the couch and started typing, looking up at you and beckoning you over with and wave of his hand.

“Sit with me sweetheart, s’just mom.” He rolled his eyes, tapping away at his keyboard replying to a non-existent message from Shmi.

He shut it down and sat it aside again, opening up his arms to let you lay against his chest. Giving you a light squeeze as you settled down, running his hands down your back.

“So, this weekend me, my sister and Luke are going out to the lake.” You started, putting one hand on his chest and resting your chin there.

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised, the lower half of his face remained unchanged.

“Yeah! We do it almost every year.” You smiled, “we get a cabin for a weekend and well usually Luke’s sister comes too but you know she just had the baby not too long ago so she’s not too keen on leaving just yet.”

“Sounds like fun doll.” He nodded, “Are you excited?”

“I am…” your smile faded slightly, noticing something about his tone wasn’t quite right.

“That’s good sweetheart, I bet you’ll have a great trip.” He pushed your hair behind your ear and put his palm on the back of your head to flex his fingers and gently scratch your scalp. “No skimpy little swimsuit, this bangin’ body is for me.” He teased, lightly kneading your ass.

You wanted to smile and giggle, to chide him for his comment but it didn’t feel right. His internal light seemed dimmer, a flickering bulb before it burns out with a *pop*.

“Is everything okay?” You whispered, feeling like if you spoke to loudly you might startle him.

“Huh? Oh yeah princess.” He nodded, giving you a little smile. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little bit too in my head today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, watching his face shift for just a split second into something you didn’t quite recognize.

“Ah well it’s nothing really.” He shook his head, the corner of his mouth turning up.

“No, there’s something wrong I can tell.” You pressed on, a twist in you guts telling you the worst scenario had come to fruition.

“Just- it’s fine okay?” He answered in a curt, snippy tone.

“Ani…” you reached up and played with his lip piercings, tracing them in a feather light touch that he found soothing.

“I’m irritated.” He scowled, picking up a hand from your back and running it through his hair. You opened your mouth to speak and he shushed you quickly.

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His voice sharp. “I don’t like that you didn’t discuss this with me beforehand. You’re going somewhere without me, somewhere I’ve never been. How am I supposed to know you’ll be safe?”

“This should’ve been a topic of discussion. You should’ve spoke to me before agreeing to it.”

“I go on this trip every year, it’s perfectly safe. It’s very calm, there’s not many people. I’ll be just fine Anakin.” You sighed, not particularly enthused about his attitude.

“I feel purposely left out. I like to be included in decision making when it comes to you, I don’t think you’d be very happy if I decided to go on a weekend trip without telling you until after I had decided I was going.” His voice raising slightly, his heart beat quickening beneath your palm.

“I wouldn’t have told you no.” He scowled, “but now I want to.”

“Anakin.” You furrowed your eyebrows, “I… I should have talked to you. You’re right, I would be upset if you decided to go somewhere with talking to me first.”

“But I don’t think it’s fair for you to tell me I can’t go.” You added, pushing off his chest.

“I’m not telling you that you can’t go.” His voice low and annoyed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t want to argue before I leave Ani.” You sighed, feeling him recoil after you said ‘leave’.

“Then we won’t argue.” He huffed. “Look at me.” Anakin said, grabbing your chin as you turned away. “You will call me when you get there. You will call me before bed. You will respond to me when I text you. Understood?”

“I’m sorry Anakin I shouldn’t have-“

“Do you understand me?” He asked again, shaking your chin lightly.

“Yes.” You nodded, looking down at your hands in your lap and feeling a sense of guilt.

“Good girl.” He grunted, “Here.” He pulled you back down to his chest, rubbing your back and cradling your head, rocking you in a slow side to side motion.

“I’m not mad.” He whispered into your hair, his cheek pressed against the crown of your head. “I’m worried. I just worry about you sweetheart, I’m sorry if I sounded harsh.”

“N-no.” You shook your head. “No you were right Ani. I’m the one who should be sorry.”

“Always such a good girl.” His voice cracking as his pressed his lips firmly to the top of your head. “Don’t worry bout it baby, I’m not upset with you.”

——————————————————————————

Anakin slammed the trunk of your car shut and pushed down for good measure, turning around and dusting off his hands, he leaned back on your car. Giving you a smile he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping you in his arms tightly.

“You be careful pretty girl.” He mumbled against your forehead before nuzzling into your neck.

“I will, I’ll call as soon as I get there I promise.” You said, nodding your head to solidify your words. “I’ll text and let you know when I’ve picked up Luke.”

“Alright sweetheart.” He smiled, “I hope you have a really good time. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too Ani.” You looked away, knowing what was coming next. Anakin cupped your cheek to make you meet his gaze.

“I love you.” His pupils dilated into big black saucers as he stared into your own. Those pretty eyes he adored so much, the eyes that told him what you wouldn’t say out loud.

You put your arms up around his neck, and tip toed to capture his lips in a soft, lax lipped kiss. One meant to be short and sweet, though with Anakin it’s almost impossible to achieve such a thing. He dominated your mouth in a heated kiss, his tongue curling to brush over yours while he hummed in satisfaction.

You slid one hand down his chest to pull back before you both got carried away in the parking lot of your apartment building. Anakin chased your lips with his, earning a giggle from you and plastering a smirk on his face.

“One more princess.” He mumbled, leaning forward to kiss your jaw. “Please? Gotta make you miss me.”

“I’m already gonna miss you.” You laughed, “don’t make it even worse!”

“I need it to be worse.” He grinned. “A whole weekend without you? I need you wet when you walk in the door.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, your cheeks heating up.

“Well it’d be real rude of me not to get my girl wet before I make sweet love to her wouldn’t it?” He spoke against your neck, squeezing your ass hard.

“Mhm. It would.”

“I’m impatient, I want you just as needy as me when you get home.” He nipped says your neck, pressing his bulge against your hip, making you gasp.

“Ani that’s not fair.” You pushed his head away, trying to squirm out of his grip as he peppered your flesh with his lips.

“Mm. Don’t talk to me about what’s fair.” He grumbled. “Why don’t you just let me have a taste huh, princess?”

“I’m gonna be late!” You squealed as he picked you up and sat you down on the trunk of your car, grinding himself against your clothed cunt.

“You think I give a shit?” He asked, his hands sliding under your shirt and lightly exploring your abdomen, his tongue running along your collarbone.

“Anakin wait there’s-“

Before you could finish speaking a horn blared loudly as a car drove by slowly in the parking lot, the driver scowling with their hands thrown up. Anakin jumped and whipped around quickly to flip the driver a double bird.

“Ani!” You smacked at his shoulder but couldn’t help laughing when he turned around with a goofy grin on his face.

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes-blog @shadowhuntyi

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@demieyesore

THE TAGS LIST IS FULL! But if you want to be tagged I will comment ur username for you. Love you all so many.

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peachesofteal · 7 months

Note

Girl- 😭😭

The soap fic is making me feel things that are new to me. I recently found you and been following you for a whole two days and read every single series you got on here, you’re truly amazing and so talented peachy<3

If you ever decide to continue the soap little Drabble please do tell

-🍅

🖤

18+ mdni / mild dark and twisty / dom/sub dynamic

It’s 0200.

Johnny frowns when he sees the northwest corner window still lit. It's 0200, why are you still in the tech building? Are you working?

It's easy to slip inside. The computer jockeys don't pay attention to their security, they think their key cards are the end all be all. Good thing his works for every door that exists on this base.

He stops to watch you, before making himself known. Watches how your shoulders slump with your posture melted, forehead in your hands. You blink at one of the screens, just barely squinting, quick fingers across the keys in a record time. He knows from your file that you're a bit of a marvel, procured for intelligence from a backwater town in the United States, impressed the brass all the way to the acting director of the CIA. You can do things with computers that would make a civilian's head spin. And yet... you can't get to class on time. Can't remember to eat. Can't sleep through the night. Can't communicate with your peers or superiors effectively. Can't hold still.

He can fix that.

"What's my wee genius up in the middle o' the night?" You shriek at the sound of his voice, whirling in a panic, eyes darting to every dark corner while your hands stick out in front of you. He sighs.

"S-Sergeant." you stammer, and it's so cute, the way you get so twisted up, the way you tremble when he looks at you. He could eat you up. But not tonight. Stepping closer, he can see the stress on your face as clear as day, and it twists like a knife in his gut. He wants to see your other face, the sweet one, the submissive, teary, dreamy, floating face, the one you made after he took the paddle across your ass fifteen times and made you squirm. The face you made when you were out of your body. The face after you cried out your last count, half lost to the pain.

"Ye're done for the evening."

"What? No, no- I... I have to get this done. It's for tomorrow and if it's not done, Chief Laswell will-"

"Do we need another lesson? Maybe one on following orders?" He lets his tone go sharper, rougher, and when you react, eyes widening before they're cast downward, pleasure moves through his body at lightning speed. There it is.

"No, sir."

"Do ye need me to accompany you back to your quarters to ensure ye follow my instruction?"

"No." You glare, and then immediately look away with defeat. "Sir." He motions for you to get up, pulling your backpack from the ground and tucking the thermos and folder from the desk inside, zipping it up and ensuring it's not too heavy before handing it off to you.

"Good girl. Off ye get."

#peaches writes #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #I'm getting too invested in this #johnny soap mctavish x reader #🍅 anon #soap x cypher

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asbealthgn · 1 year

Text

(part one here)

Steve drives over the Munson trailer first thing in the morning after spending the night at Robin’s. He feels a little bad since he knows that Eddie doesn’t like getting up early, but Steve’s pretty desperate to talk to him. Now that he knows he has feelings for Eddie, he doesn’t want to waste a second.

Wayne’s truck is parked outside the trailer, meaning he’s home from work, but he’s probably in bed by now. All the same, Steve goes around to Eddie’s window instead of the door. He kicks a crate over to stand on to reach the glass and raps his knuckles against it. After maybe thirty seconds, Steve hears motion inside and sees Eddie appear at the window. Steve can’t quite figure out what his expression is—some mix of apprehension and embarrassment and hope.

Eddie slides open the window. “What do you want, Harrington?” he asks.

“Can we talk?” Steve asks. Eddie stares back at him for a long moment.

“What about?”

Steve curls his hand around the window sill. “C’mon, you know what about.”

Eddie is silent for a long moment before shaking his head. “Can we just forget it ever happened?” he asks, “Pretend you never heard anything?”

“Eds, please,” Steve says, ready to start begging. “Will you just let me in? Or come out here so we can talk?”

He’s afraid Eddie’s going to shut the window. The way he’s eyeing it is definitely concerning, so Steve puts his other hand on the window sill as a deterrent. Eddie looks down at his hands and then sighs.

“Meet me out front on the couch,” he says. He backs away from the window and disappears to where Steve can’t see him. This is progress though.

Steve makes his way back around the trailer. He skips up the porch steps and settles in on the couch. A few seconds later, Eddie emerges wearing a hoodie, his hands inside his sleeves and arms crossed. It’s a little cold out here, but not freezing. Steve thinks it’s more a defense mechanism than a response to the temperature. Eddie sits down on the couch, leaving a couple feet between them.

“Eddie—” Steve starts.

“Listen, I’m really sorry,” Eddie says, squeezing his arms tighter around himself. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

“It’s okay, I—”

“I get it if you don’t want to be friends anymore, seriously,” Eddie says, “I know I made things weird—”

“—no, Eddie—”

“—but I do really want to be friends with you,” Eddie says, plowing over Steve. “Our friendship means so much to me, and I don’t want to do anything to fuck it up.”

“Eddie—”

“So please, please just pretend like I never said anything. I can get over it, I can—”

“—Eddie, will you please—”

“—I get that you’re straight, I know nothing will happen between us, I don’t want to ruin—”

Clearly this approach is not working. If Eddie isn’t going to let Steve get a word in edgewise then he’ll just have to resort to more drastic measures. And maybe this is really stupid, but it’s honestly the only thing Steve can think of to shut him up and get his point across at the same time.

He grabs Eddie’s face in both hands and kisses him.

If Steve still had any doubts about his feelings for Eddie, then this puts them to rest. He feels warmth spread out from his belly through the rest of his body. God, he likes kissing Eddie. It takes a few seconds for his brain to catch up and realize that Eddie is completely frozen against him.

He pulls back. Eddie’s eyes are wide, mouth falling open. The seconds stretch without a response, so Steve speaks. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he says, brushing his thumbs lightly over Eddie’s cheeks. “And I don’t want to forget what you said. It’s what made me realize that I have feelings for you.”

That finally gets a reaction out of Eddie, a series of quick blinks. “You…have feelings for me?” Eddie asks, voice almost inaudible.

Steve nods. “I do,” he says, “I really do.”

“Kiss me again,” Eddie whispers.

So Steve does, leaning forward and pressing his lips back to Eddie’s. This time, Eddie kisses him back, and fuck. This is everything Steve could have hoped for and somehow so much more. It’s only been about seven hours since he figured out he likes Eddie and he already doesn’t know how he’s lived his whole life without kissing him. He doesn’t know how he’s ever going to stop.

“Steve,” Eddie murmurs, pulling back slightly. Steve can’t quite hold back the whine that starts in the back of his throat, which makes Eddie smile. “We should go inside,” he says, glancing around. It’s not like there’s anyone else out here, but they’re still pretty exposed.

Steve gets up and follows Eddie inside. As soon as the door shuts behind them, Steve grabs Eddie again and pushes him up against it, kissing him. Eddie starts to say his name, but Steve swallows the sound, desperate to never let go of Eddie again.

From the direction of the kitchen, there's the sound of a throat clearing.

Jerking back, Steve looks over and sees Wayne standing by the counter, eyebrows raised over the edge of his Garfield mug. His eyes are sparkling.

“Mornin’, Steve.”

tagging: @bisexualdisastersworld @cr0w-culture @axl-is-online @awkotaco24 @justforthedead89 @bumblemyrtle @justmiiriam @brassreign @beautifulphantomstarlight @croatoan-like-its-hot @cosmicanamnesis

#i don't plan on writing more of this #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #stranger things #ficlet

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withleeknow · 8 months

Text

MASTERLIST © WITHLEEKNOW

updated: 03.06.2024 · latest: the nut graph

schedule + wips · taglist · requests · faq · ko-fi

request & blurb masterlist

bangtan writings

come claim an emoji! ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

♡ = fluff · ♤ = angst · ♧ = smut i mostly write for minho. the fics are sorted from most recent to oldest.

⌜ BANG CHAN ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

like you used to ( ♤ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ “kiss me like you did the first time under that shitty street light near the corner of my old apartment.”

⌜ LEE MINHO⌟

☁️ ONESHOTS & SERIES:

wishful thinking ( ♡ ♤ ♧ ) — friends to lovers, friends with benefits au ⤷ the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

💌 DRABBLES:

whiskers ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ sometimes he calls them whiskers, sometimes he calls them moons.

somewhere only we know ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ maybe it’s just being with him, maybe it’s just being in love.

seasons of you ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.7k ⤷ minho falls in love with you four times a year.

anchored ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 1.0k ⤷ in those instances, you don’t necessarily need him to say anything back, you just want to feel seen and heard.

sweeter ( ♧ ) — est. relationship; 1.4k ⤷ “say it, bunny. make me happy.”

happy place ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.8k ⤷ every pretty color he sees and every beautiful adjective in his vocabulary? that’s all you.

magnolia ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 0.4k ⤷ there are some things that you just have to process on your own, some motions you have go through by yourself.

thirteen percent ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 1.2k ⤷ it was beyond endearing, but it was also fucking 4:18am.

my moon and stars ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 1.1k ⤷ he’s full of surprises today, it seems.

forgetful ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ no matter how callous his facade is, he is still the type to love you quietly. tenderly. completely.

remedy ( ♡ ♤ ) — est. relationship; 1.2k ⤷ “you don’t have to talk to me. just… stay with me for a while.”

away from you ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ absence makes the heart grow fonder - maybe there’s some truth in that.

fujifilm x100v ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.3k ⤷ your fujifilm x100v, minho always says he hates the thing.

endgame ( ♡ ♧ ) — est. relationship; 1.1k ⤷ the thought of ever loving anyone else seems like an impossible one. he’s it for you. this is your endgame, right here.

quiet ( ♡ ♧ )— est. relationship; 0.6k ⤷ “i always like your voice. you know that.”

in the dark ( ♡ ♤ ) — friends to lovers; 0.6k ⤷ he’s too stubborn for his own good and he’s too good for his own sake.

fold ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ “you lasted 58 minutes. so close. almost made it a full hour.”

to build a home ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.5k ⤷ home isn’t always a place. sometimes, home is a person.

⌜ HWANG HYUNJIN ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

the nut graph ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.8k ⤷ your boyfriend loves the rain; there’s something so charmingly idyllic about the rain and he’s nothing if not a romantic.

rue de rivoli ( ♡ ) — est. relationship; 0.9k ⤷ any city is love when you’re with him.

⌜ HAN JISUNG ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

parallel lines ( ♤ ) — best friends au, unrequited love au; 1.3k ⤷ so quick, so easy. the process of leaving you, done in mere minutes.

⌜ KIM SEUNGMIN ⌟

💌 DRABBLES:

six minutes ( ♡ ) — friends to lovers (?); 0.8k ⤷ “i don’t think a kidnapper would get up early and google how to soft boil eggs either.”

#navigation

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thepixelelf · 2 months

Note

mingyu slice if life domestic fluff ! 💳💳💳 (im bribing you)

teehee

note: reader took mingyu's last name in the divorce marriage! also, there is slight mention of the pair's sexual relationship, but nothing graphic

[goodnight, mr kim] Sometimes, even when Mingyu's day has been unendingly long and unbearably busy, he still buzzes around the house like a bee at the end of the night. He doesn't know why this happens, but you have your guesses-- things in motion want to stay in motion, after all.

"Have you seen my reading glasses?" he asks you, his silhouette appearing and disappearing in the bedroom doorway as he scurries past it.

"They're on the nightstand, babe," you semi-shout to wherever he is in the house, not even looking at the side of the bed, where you know his glasses are. That's where they always are. You skim back a couple sentences in your book.

From (maybe) the kitchen, Mingyu asks, "Do you want a glass of water?"

You flip the page. "I have my water bottle. Aren't you tired?"

Suddenly, Mingyu's back in the doorway, arm extended and holding onto the jamb like it's the only thing keeping him upright. "Exhausted," he whines with a pout.

Sliding an old receipt into your book, you close it and place it on your nightstand with a smile. "I have an easy solution to that."

Mingyu's face is as cute as ever. "What?"

You pull back the covers in invitation and hold your arms out. "A little thing called a good night's rest. And you'll only get one if we start right now."

A short series of thoughts spin behind Mingyu's eyes before a smile spreads over his lips. Without warning, he breaks into a practical sprint and launches himself onto the bed.

And, onto you.

"Oof--" you grunt as you're squished into the not-so-comfy-as-two-seconds-ago mattress. His face snuggles into your neck, and you smack his shoulder. "Kim, you're suffocating me."

A breath huffs against your skin. You used to call him "Kim" before you got together all those years ago, when you and him were "strictly professional", and you only use it now when you're playfully upset with him.

Now, though, he has the privilege of getting you back.

He raises his head so he can meet your eyes and caress his thumb on your cheek. "Kim," he calls you, loving that little reminder of your togetherness. "I thought you liked a little suffo--"

"Mingyu!" You shove your hand in his face.

Chuckling, he rolls off you and lands on his side of the bed.

"Go to sleep," you say, laughing with him now. "Don't you have another busy day tomorrow?"

He shifts onto his side, elbow bent and head resting on his closed fist. "What if I just quit? Spend the day with you."

"Don't tempt me, Kim." You waggle a finger at him with a smirk. "You know how weak I am for romantic gestures."

He pulls you closer to lie beside him and moves so his head and yours share a pillow. A quick kiss gets pressed to your lips, then Mingyu pulls back with stars in his eyes. "I know. But that only makes me want to do them more."

"Kim," you try to say seriously, but a laugh slips through. You tap your finger on his lips. "Go to sleep."

He beams. "Okay, Kim. But only if you join me."

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #kim mingyu fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu scenarios #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagines #svt scenarios #svt imagines #svt x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines

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hwaslayer · 11 days

Text

love you in slow motion (psh) | four.

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist ♡

—summary: seonghwa will go through hell and back for you, as long as he can continue to see that smile on your face. because to him, that smile feels like a rainbow after the rain, thewarmth of the sun on a winter day. because to him, you’re more than just his bestfriend—you’re love. even though everyone seems to see that except you.

—pairing: park seonghwa x f!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) bestfriends to lovers | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 10k

—chapter warning: cussing/mature language, alcohol consumption, intoxication, club scene!, twerkin buns at the clurrrb 🤪, kissing/making out, quick rundown of oc's history with mingi, physical altercation, mention of small injuries/wounds (lip cut), arguments, crying, the silent treatment 💀, hints of a hookup, oc x seonghwa just being a mess per usual sorry 😫 lol

"Are you still riding with me and Joong to the club?" Seonghwa puts your call on speaker while he sits in the passenger's seat of Hongjoong's car.

"Yeah, if I can."

"Can we head over then?"

"Sure. I'm still getting ready."

"We figured." Hongjoong chuckles in the driver's seat, turning into a lot. "What do you want from Egg House?" Seonghwa inches the phone away from his face when you squeal loudly and clap.

"Double egg toast, please!"

"Okay. We'll be there in about 30 minutes or so."

"Thank you!" You hang up the call first and Seonghwa lets out a breath, slouching further in the seat.

"It's so easy to please Y/N." Hongjoong laughs, finding a spot in the opposite end the lot closest to the shop.

"Sometimes."

"San ever tell you about their dinner?"

"Not really. Y/N did. A bit. She was being kinda weird about it, actually."

"Hm." He hums, figuring if it was gonna come from someone, it would be him. "That's probably because they talked about you."

"Me?" Seonghwa furrows his brows in confusion. "What about me?" No wonder you were being so weird about the topic at the aquarium. You couldn't tell him the full story, even though Seonghwa wished you would've. It'd make things way easier.

"What do you mean 'what about you?'" Hongjoong laughs as he heads to the self-checkout area to order. "These unspoken feelings, that's what."

"What did San say?"

"He asked if you two had anything going on with each other."

"Why is that a question when there clearly isn't?"

"Mm, well.." Hongjoong's response has a drip of sarcasm that has Seonghwa

"He didn't have to do that."

"He just didn't wanna get in between anything, of course he had to." Seonghwa is silent and he's biting his tongue because even though he has a rebuttal ready to slip— he's not entirely sure why he'd be defensive and fight back about it.

Hongjoong and San were right. It's not like everyone wasn't aware. The only person who seemed to be was you.

"I don't know what Y/N said. But whatever it was.. was enough for San to just back off."

"He shouldn't give up on her."

"Him or you?" Joong laughs. "I mean they're still going to be the same. Good friends. I don't think anything was lost. They're probably both comfortable this way, too. Maybe that's just how it's supposed to play out." Joong shrugs. Which, it isn't much of a surprise to Seonghwa when he hears this, especially when you started talking about the potential of ruining things—

♡ FLASHBACK

"As friends. Like we always were." You tug on his wrist. "Hypothetically speaking, if we were to date, would that ruin things between us?" Seonghwa swallows the lump in his throat before shaking his head.

"Why would it ruin things between us?"

"I don't know, because we've always known each other like this. As bestfriends. It could be a dangerous thing, right? Cause we'd know too much about each other or whatever." You look up at him, and he locks his eyes with yours. He wishes he could say everything and nothing at once— but he sticks with the latter, his own example of keeping everything at bay.

"I truthfully don't think it'd ruin anything."

"B-because I feel like it would and that's why I'm just letting things be with San."

"You sure that's it? Cause I feel like you're asking for a different reason, and not for San in particular."

♡ END

"Hate when you do that."

"Hate when I'm right and you're wrong.. again?" Seongwa finishes plugging in his order and yours before checking out.

"I got it since you're driving today." Is all he responds before snatching the receipt.

"More gas money for me." Hongjoong snickers, plopping onto a high stool off to the side of the restaurant to wait for the food.

"Did San say anything else to you?" Joong shrugs and shakes his head.

"Nah. But, he seems to be the same."

"Gotta talk to him." Seonghwa mainly mutters to himself. He just wants San to be okay because he didn't want this idea of you and him getting in the way [despite his feelings]. That was never his intention. But before he can fall into a rabbit hole with his thoughts, his name is being called and a bag full of food is being pushed his way. Joong is already on his way to the car, unlocking the doors to hop in and drive off to your place with a quickness— especially because he was hungry.

When they arrive at your place, they pass through the house to say their hello's to Yaya with Seonghwa handing off the extra sandwich he remembered to buy for her. She happily thanks them before waving them off, telling them that you're probably still getting ready in your suite.

"Hey!" Seonghwa knocks and yells. "Are you decent or whatever?"

"Yeah! Come in!" He hears from the other side just as he tugs on the doorknob. Walking in, he notices a few pieces of clothing scattered along your bed and couch, with you head deep into your closet.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Finding an outfit, what does it look like?" Your response is mumbled as you dig deep into the depths of your closet to find that black cotton mini skirt and a few tops. "Got it!" You hold up a bodysuit and a regular tank in the same color. "Body suit or tank?"

"How the hell are you gonna pee?" Hongjoong asks mid-chew. "Unbuttoning that coochie holder while drunk is crazy."

"You're sick, Kim Hongjoong."

"Nah, tell me. How is that gonna work?" Seonghwa silently takes out your sandwich and plops next to him on the couch.

"He's got a point. I'm not going into that bathroom to save you."

"Ugh." You groan, tossing the bodysuit aside and settling for the tank. "I'll figure out the rest later." You plop next to Hongjoong's free side. "Thank you for the food." You smile over at them.

"Hwa bought it." Hongjoong's eyes are glued to the TV.

"Thank you, pichu."

"Mhm." Seonghwa responds from his end.

"Why are San and Woo going separately?"

"San has to help his uncle with something and it might run a bit long. Woo offered to go with him so he wouldn't be alone."

"Mm." You hum. "Hope it doesn't go long."

"Aw. You miss Sannie?" Hongjoong playfully pouts and you hit him on the bicep.

"You're so fucking mean to me." Joong laughs loudly when you continue to whine, Seonghwa contently eating away while watching the show.

"You guys good or what?"

"Yeah, I just want all of us together."

"We will be, don't worry." Seonghwa chimes in and passes you your food. "Eat. I know you'll need like 500 hours to get your makeup and hair done." You glare at him before picking up the sandwich and digging in. You, Joong and Hwa continue to talk amongst each other while watching the TV before you gather the strength to finally get ready for the night. You turn on your bluetooth speaker, blasting your playlist while you get dressed and get your makeup going. Seonghwa has taken a few pregame shots with you in between, now sipping on a canned cocktail to keep him going while you finish up your makeup and hair. You take one more look at yourself in the mirror, satisfied with the oversized black denim jacket, mini skirt, tank and knee high heeled boots you threw on. Your makeup was simple, but enough to pop.

"Damn." Hongjoong teases, playfully checking you out and flattening his brows with two fingers while Seonghwa rolls his eyes. But, he has to say— he's fucking dying inside because of how fine you look tonight.

So fucking beautiful, and Seonghwa wishes he could have you all to himself.

"Go away." You laugh, walking through a cloud of perfume. "I'm ready!"

"About time." Seonghwa teases. "You look good." He breaks contact as he shuts off your bluetooth speaker and is the first to head out the door.

"Thanks, pichu." You shut off the lights and lock your door. "Do you have the bottle?"

"Make sure to hide that shit in the car, I'm not getting pulled over." Hongjoong says, unlocking his car. You hop into the backseat and tuck the unopened soju bottle aside— keeping it safe until you get to the club.

It's a 20 minute drive before Joong is circling the streets to find a good spot. When he finally gets lucky and finds one just a block down, he reverses into the spot flawlessly before shutting off the car and giving off a deep sigh.

"Have at it." He says, texting San to find out his whereabouts while you and Seonghwa continue to pregame some more and finish the bottle. The alcohol is hitting you quickly tonight, the soju being the cherry on top. Joong tells you San and Wooyoung have parked nearby, giving you all the greenlight to meet them halfway and walk together to the club.

You [drunkly] scream loudly when you see the two; running into their arms and letting them swing you around. You feel happier when you're all together, excited for what the night has to bring. You cling onto Seonghwa without realizing, the group behind you two as you walk side by side while engaging in conversation.

"Seonghwa! Why would you say that!" You and Seonghwa laugh loudly while walking down the street to the club. San can't help but divert his attention to you two ahead; watching as you naturally joke around, laugh and playfully bicker. You cling onto Seonghwa and continue to attach yourself to his hip, and the reality settles for San even more.

He is sad, but it's clear this is where you're supposed to be.

Seonghwa continues to tell you his story, leaning in to tell you delicate details even as you fall in line for the club. San realizes things surely haven't changed, because for you and Hwa, all you see is each other. You both don't ever purposefully make anyone feel left out, but at the end of the day, Hwa was always going to prioritize you and vice versa.

This is your own world and San only plays a little part in it. And that's okay. That's completely okay. You deserved to be happy and that's all he wants for you. All he wants for Hwa.

When security finally checks your IDs and lets your group in, the club is packed from wall to wall and you're having to hold Seonghwa's hand while navigating through the crowd. Hongjoong is behind you, gripping at the belt loop of your skirt to help lead the other two trailing him.

"Aye, over there!" Hongjoong tugs on your belt loop and points at the free bartender towards the other end of the club nodding with his lips while nodding. You take the hint and get Seonghwa to navigate to the free area. Once you're there, you feel like you're able to breathe, being able to spread your arms and move around freely.

"Let's go get some drinks from the bartender over there, it isn't busy." Seonghwa points to the small bar area towards the back end. Your group follows, instantly asking the bartender for a few shots of tequila, whiskey, whatever each chose as their own poison.

The shots are taken to the neck, and before you know it, you're dancing away on the dance floor with your friends. Wooyoung manages to grab a few dances from cuties nearby, dragging San along to cheer him up and find someone he could possibly have fun with. But, amidst all that and all the numbers he manages to grab, he still finds himself looking for you so he can at least have a dance.

"Y/N?" San comes to you, cheeks tinted red as his hand caresses at his jaw.

"What's wrong, Sannie? Are you okay?" You look up at him with those eyes, your hand on his bicep. You're both clearly drunk out of your minds but jesus, is he having trouble containing himself.

"Y-yeah." He hiccups. "I just wanted to ask if you'd dance with me?" You giggle and nod.

"Let's go!" You grab his hand and take the initiative. At some point the crowd builds and you're separated from your group— Wooyoung floating somewhere out in the chaos, while Hongjoong and Seonghwa are pulling further and further away. You continue to dance with San though, enjoying every moment and having fun while with him. He keeps up with your rhythm, holding you close but making sure you still have enough freedom to move however you want, have space however you want. But, you continue to work on him and dance along to the music, forgetting any worries for the night.

You dance with San for a good chunk of time before you start searching for Seonghwa, who is no longer nearby. You catch wind of him, but your body decides this is the perfect time to break the seal.

"I need to go to the bathroom." You turn to San and tippy-toe to his ear.

"You okay? Want me to come and wait?"

"No, I'm okay. I'll be back." You give him a small reassuring smile before rushing off to the bathroom and waiting in the tiny line that had formed outside the door. You're in and out within 5 minutes, washing your hands and patting your face down with how stuffy the club had gotten. After handling your business in peace, you realize that Seonghwa and Hongjoong are even more separated than you thought when you exit the bathroom— no longer being able to spot them on the main dance floor, especially due to being inebriated. You finally find Wooyoung and San together, tugging on Wooyoung's sleeve to grab his attention.

"Where's Hwa?"

"Iono!" Wooyoung shrugs. "Last time I checked he was somewhere over there with Joongie." He nods in the far back corner behind you. You give Wooyoung's arm a squeeze to thank him before pushing your way through the crowd towards the potential Hongjoong and Seonghwa spot. When you get there, Hongjoong is definitely nowhere to be found, but Seonghwa is talking to some girl. He's leaning in towards her ear in order for her to hear him, and she laughs at whatever the fuck he's saying. It lowkey kinda irks you, even though you have no reason to be feeling that way. You should be happy Seonghwa is putting himself out there and flirting away at the club.

Not feeling jealous or envious in the least bit that she is occupying his time and space.

"Hey." You come up to him just as she giggles and playfully flips her hair, turning on her heels to walk away. She gives him one last look before she sways her hips and continues walking towards her friends, all of them squealing over the encounter in the middle of the club. "I see you've been busy." He shrugs.

"That's the girl I met. Makayla." You subtly roll your eyes and tap his chest.

"Okay, well I've been looking for you." You kinda pout.

"What's wrong?" He tilts his head.

"Nothing, I just wanted to hang out with you and I couldn't find you for the longest time." He laughs.

"You were dancing with Sannie, weren't you?" He taps your nose. He says it like it's a light, teasing joke, but deep down, Seonghwa had to step away and get outta that spot. He's not gonna lie, he is relieved you're finally looking for him and finding him.

"So?" He laughs.

"Well, you found me? Stop pouting. We came here to have fun and you're gonna be with me all night." He gently runs a finger down your bottom lip that is still poking out in a pout.

"Where'd Joong go?"

"Bathroom."

"Let me grab San and Woo—" Seonghwa tugs at your hand just as you're about to turn, a small frown on his face. As you look at him, not only do you realize how drunk you still are, but you can also pick up on how drunk Seonghwa is, too. His eyes are red and glazed over, cheeks also tinted with a rosey hue.

Which, with the way he's looking at you, can't be a good thing.

This won't end well.

And you truly do not care right now.

"Uh-uh, I thought you wanted to hang out for a bit. Dance with me." He says, pulling you flush against him while his teeth subtly nibble on his bottom lip.

"Hwa." You get all shy and unlike yourself, most definitely from the alcohol and the way he's looking at you up and down. You let him keep you close, beginning to dance against him and go with the beat of the current song blasting through the club.

To set the record straight first and foremost— it's not like you haven't danced with him before. You have, and those times have been careless, free and fun. You didn't have a care in the world, Seonghwa didn't. It wouldn't last because it was harmless fun before you were onto the next and brushing it off like it was any ordinary thing between you two.

Because it was.

Tonight, it isn't. The air is different, and the energy between you two is supercharged; strong, an incredible pull to each other. The air is extra thick and like no other you've experienced with him. You can't really explain it right now, but with recent events, you just know you want Seonghwa.

Just like he wants you.

So you dance, and you dance. The two of you have pushed to the farthest corner of the club that Hongjoong never seems to return to Seonghwa [or maybe he did and didn't wanna bother] and the two of you are left in your own little world. He's still keeping you close, a tight grip on your hips as he feels every inch, every move against him, doing his best to keep up with the rhythm, you.

And god, is it turning you on.

You turn to face him when the song transitions into the next, finding that Seonghwa can't take his eyes off of you. He stares through his hooded lids while he rests against the metal railing, hands still at your hips while your face is only inches away. You watch as his eyes shoot down to your lips, back up to your eyes as if he's begging, pleading, you to make the first move. Because that will be the confirmation he needs— that will open up a whole new box that Seonghwa had been waiting to open, break the lock to a door he had been waiting to walk through. But also, he's too scared to make the first move. Too scared he'd be overthinking, that you're just drunk and you wouldn't mean it—

Suddenly, the impact of your lips crashing into his quickly pulls him out of his thoughts. Instead of breaking away at that moment, the kiss instantly becomes heated, deep. And Seonghwa has to forcibly pull himself off of you because even though he wants this so, so badly, it'll ruin everything if you truly didn't mean anything by it.

"What're you doing, Y/N?" He breaks away and leans towards your ear. His voice is husky and deep, loud enough to barely be heard over the music.

"I can't kiss you?"

"Not if you don't mean it." He bites onto his bottom lip when he pulls back to look at you, hands still resting on your waist.

"Who said I didn't mean it, Hwa?" You say in his ear, shivers running down his spine when he feels your lips graze your jaw. He probably should think about this, really think about this, but he can't. He's just as fucked up as you are, and he's feeling a bit selfish, a tad bit horny. You're positioned in between his legs looking beautiful as ever even under the dim club lights.

He can't help himself.

He cups your cheek as he pulls you back in, kissing you with so much more fervor. He hears you let out a content sigh in between kisses, pressing your body up against him as you grip the sides of his shirt.

"Driving me crazy." He says, pulling back and letting his nose lightly glide over yours. The both of you are slightly panting, lips swollen from all the intense kisses just shared. You'd do it over and over again, though. And if it were up to you, you'd take this home to explore a little further.

You want Seonghwa.

"Am I?" You continue to tease.

"Y/N." He gives you a look. "You have no idea what you do to me." His voice is still husky, deep; vibrating through your ears and sending tingles down your spine. He leans in for another deep, last kiss; biting onto your bottom lip and tugging back before letting it go. He dips to your jaw, to your neck— painting the surface with feathery kisses and tiny, subtle bites.

"Hwa, we're still out." You giggle and gently tap his chest.

"Right." He sheepishly smiles and continues to hold you.

"I'm gonna grab some water real quick. We should try and find everyone when I come back."

"Let me just come with you." He grabs at your hand.

"I'll be fine, pichu." You smile toothlessly at him. "I'll be back before you know it. Try to text one of the boys! Save our space!"

"Fine." Seonghwa slightly whines as he lets go of your hand and watches you walk off. At this point, San, Wooyoung and Hongjoong find him without Seonghwa having to lift a finger— both San and Wooyoung carrying two glasses in their hands.

"Aye! Finally fucking found your ass. Where's baby girl? Got more shots." Wooyoung looks around for your familiar figure.

"She went to get water."

"I got it right here. Tequila water." Wooyoung snorts at his failed attempt of a joke.

"You're an idiot." Seonghwa shakes his head and takes the glass, holding onto it while looking around the room. It hasn't been long, but he's hoping you haven't been swallowed by the crowd and are at least at the bar requesting for water.

"Let's wait for Y/N." San adds.

"Sounds good with me." Wooyoung shrugs.

5 minutes quickly turns into 10 and you're still not back from your water run. Seonghwa can't help but be worried, eyes now frantically scanning every inch of the room to catch any glimpse of you.

"Damn, that's a long water break. Should we just go to the bar and find her?" Whatever Wooyoung's saying is completely drowned out by Seonghwa because he finally spots you, and he's fuming. Everything in the club seems to drown out, and it almost feels like white noise. Hwa finds you at the opposite corner of the bar, and of course, Song Mingi would be the person you're occupied with. That's why you haven't returned, of fucking course. He continues to watch from his spot, feeling unsettled from the entire situation. It starts off pretty normal, until Mingi starts whispering near your ear; doing his best to pull you close, keep you close. He sees you gently rejecting Mingi's touches, shoving off his hand and pushing his arm away— clearly making you uncomfortable. Seonghwa finds his free hand balled into a fist, already boiling with anger at how Mingi doesn't read any of your signs.

Instead, continues to put you through it because he's your ex. He thinks he can get away with it. He knows he can.

"I'll be back." Seonghwa says taking the shot in one swift motion, setting his empty glass aside on the high table nearby. San furrows his brows as he watches him leave, following his trail over to the opposite end of the club.

"Oh shit." San says under his breath, and Hongjoong is confused.

"What?"

"Mingi." He points over to the other side of the club and Joong lets out a sigh, followed by a heavy—

"Fuck."

As Seonghwa comes from behind, Mingi is the first to spot him and smirks. You don't really notice until Mingi has stopped trying to get close to you, turning over your shoulder to see your own bestfriend shooting daggers his way.

"What's up, Seonghwa?" The way Mingi says his name is so fucking annoying, Hwa can't help but roll his eyes. Mingi leaves out his hand in hopes of Hwa taking it in a friendly dap. All Seonghwa does is look at it before returning his attention back up to him, then back to you.

"Come on. Let's go." Hwa mutters as tries to gently drag you away by the wrist, but Mingi stops him.

"Woah. We were just having a conversation."

"Back up." Seonghwa steps in front of you and tries to get Mingi to back up, creating some distance between you two.

"Kinda rude for someone to intervene when they have no business to."

"Didn't know that required you to put your hands on her."

"Seonghwa." You warn, but he doesn't listen.

"Of course." Mingi laughs and licks his lips before closing in on the distance, clearly drunk and trying to be belligerent by provoking Seonghwa. His face is only a couple of inches away from Seonghwa's, but he isn't doing anything to back down from whatever the fuck Mingi is trying to start. Because yeah, he's drunk too, and this is you they were talking about. "Wanna be all high and mighty now? Be the knight in shining armor you always tried to be?" Mingi snickers.

"Back away from me, Mingi." Seonghwa warns lowly. "Step the fuck away."

"Or what? The fuck are you gonna do about it, Seonghwa?" Mingi mutters. "Think she'll finally give into you?" He chuckles pathetically. "Finally give you what you've been wanting for years? I know you've always been mad because you couldn't bag her when I did. Couldn't touch her, fuck her like—" Seonghwa pushes him with so much power that Mingi stumbles and fall back on a high table nearby, knocking over a glass as his arm hits the table. Mingi recovers quickly though, glaring at him as he pushes Seonghwa back and tries to land a punch on him. Mingi successfully lands it when Hwa fails to dodge, cutting the corner of his lip after the impact. They continue to go at it, causing people to step back and watch the chaos ensue from around.

"Hwa! Get off! Stop!" You scream, trying to pry him off. San, Hongjoong and Wooyoung rush over, both San and Joong having to separate the two until the bouncers come and kick your group and Mingi's group out of the club.

"Jesus fucking christ." Wooyoung glares at the bouncer and throws his hands up. "Okay, okay, we're going!"

"Let me catch you, fucking punk!" You hear Mingi yell as him and his group walk down the opposite block, the bouncers still keeping an eye on your groups to make sure nothing occurs outside of the club and requires police activity. You walk a few steps before you push Seonghwa by the shoulder, forcing him to look at you as he tends to his lip.

"What the fuck did you do that for?!" You look at him and Seonghwa's almost taken aback by your reaction.

What do you even mean?

He did this to protect you and keep you away from that asshole, but you don't even seem the least bit concerned about him.

At all.

"W-what?" Seonghwa looks at you, his chest rising as he tries to calm himself from all the adrenaline and anger.

"You didn't have to do that!" You yell, on the verge of tears. You're angry at Seonghwa, but you're angry because you hate seeing him hurt. You hate that he intervened, you hate that he's hurt because of the fight. You're angry, you're hurt, and everything is coming out all wrong. "I was fine, you didn't have to get in between, Seonghwa!"

"The hell you mean I didn't?!"

"Hwa." Hongjoong calls for him, eyeing the bouncers nearby.

"He wasn't doing anything!"

"Here you go again! Be serious for once, Y/N. He's a fucking asshole! When are you going to realize that?!"

♡ FLASHBACK

"Yeah, whatever. Fuck you, Song Mingi." You walk out of his room, aggressively wiping the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Fucking crazy. Get the hell outta here!" He yells from his room, causing you to flip him off as you walk down the hallway and out of his front door.

Song Mingi was a certified asshole.

Time and time again, your ex-boyfriend of 2 years proves to you that you just aren't shit to him. Two years, then an on-and-off again situation where Mingi just couldn't commit to you again — but he needed you to feel wanted, to feel like he had a safety blanket to fall on, to feel like he could string you along until that very last moment he couldn't. He'd whisper sweet nothings whenever he saw you late nights; no longer leaving his home to go on dates, but to stay wrapped up in his sheets. Telling you things he knows will make you weak, thing he knows will make you stay a little longer. All these years of this back and forth game you played with your ex, you had no idea why you couldn't just learn and do better for yourself instead of letting him reel you in, making you think he genuinely wanted and needed you.

There was no one like you.

You, so perfect.

You, made just for him.

You should've known better.

This was no one else's fault but your own. You let him in, you let him in, you let him in. And you fall for it every single time, knowing you were never going to be his one and only again, knowing you weren't the only one he was keeping around. But for whatever sick reason, you wanted to believe you could get him to change again. You wanted to believe you meant more to him, that your history meant more to him. But that's all it was— wishful thinking.

Empty words built on shaky foundation.

So here you are, after he had called you saying he had missed you and wished you were near him. Here you are, crying everything you have left in you after giving him what he wanted. Here you are, after hearing that this wasn't anything to Mingi, that you weren't anything to Mingi. Here you are, broken to pieces, empty, soulless.

Again and again.

"Fucking asshole." You groan to yourself, tears streaming steadily as you head down the street from his building to a random corner. You sit on the sidewalk, kicking aggressively at the rocks beneath your feet. You give one last good grunt out of frustration before you rest your arms on your knees, head hanging low to let all your tears fall freely.

You had been crying so hard that you hadn't realized a car had pulled up in the empty spot near the curb you sat on, car being turned off before someone steps out and shut their door. You suddenly feel a hand on your back and you instantly ease up, knowing exactly who that touch belongs to.

"Hwa." You look at him, watery eyes blood shot red. He can't help but feel sorry for you, you're aware. You can tell by the way his brows soften when he sees how torn up you are, you can tell by the way his lips poke out because he isn't really sure what else he can say at this point. He shouldn't have to say anything anymore. He shouldn't be here—

You shouldn't be here.

"I told you to stay put." He teasingly scolds you, but you continue to look at him with that sad, pathetic look. "Let's get home, hm?" He follows up, free hand coming to wipe your tears away. You nod, allowing Seonghwa to help you up and into the car. He doesn't really say anything when he gets in and buckles his seatbelt, but he glances over at you, watches as you sink in the passenger's seat and look out the window.

He hates it, and he wishes he could do more to take this away from you. To keep you away from Mingi, to take away your pain completely.

It's not the first time Seonghwa's had to come get you. He's almost losing track of how many times you've called him crying because you wanted to leave a party after seeing Mingi flirting around [even though he'd deny it time and time again]. The times you've called because he left you at parties to hang out with other people, other girls. The times Mingi has disrespectfully called you out your name mid-argument, gaslighting you into thinking you were in the wrong.

Seonghwa's only hope is that one day, you'll finally get tired of your ex and move on. Leaving Mingi where he belongs, especially when he couldn't even give you the proper respect. Mingi's only reasoning for breaking up with you was that he couldn't do this anymore, he couldn't do the relationship anymore. He just couldn't, and you knew what he truly meant— it just wasn't you anymore.

And for months and months, you sat there wondering what you could've done differently, or if there was a sign that you had missed. Every time he called, it had you thinking he must've realized he couldn't do this without you, that he was wrong and that he did want this after all.

Nope.

He made you believe it for a night, yes. Then, he'd go back to reminding you what you actually meant to you— that you were delusional, that you kept forcing things between him. That you knew what this was.

You should've known what this was.

♡ END

"He wasn't even doing anything! Not shit you needed to step in between for! He was literally—"

"Oh my fucking god." Seonghwa groans. "And you're still defending him!" He yells, his brows furrowed when he turns to look at you. He feels like he can barely breathe due to the anger surging through his veins, plus the betrayal he's feeling with the way you're delivering your responses. The way you look at him. The way you're keeping your distance.

After everything, it still seems like you're taking Mingi's side. You always find a way to defend him one way or another, even if you don't realize it.

Seonghwa does, and it hurts.

"I'm not!" Your tone is louder. "I could've taken care of it myself, he wasn't doing anything!" You repeat.

"He was making you uncomfortable, Y/N! All up in your space, trying to force you to do shit when you didn't want it. Yet, you wanna tell me he wasn't doing anything?"

"I'm just saying it wasn't that big of a deal, Hwa! I could've handled it!"

"Really? I doubt that."

"Wow, are you serious?" You say, hurt. But, he scoffs and continues because you need to hear this.

"I am. You always let him push you around and walk all over you. I thought by now you'd be smart enough to realize that you're worth much more than that." His tone rises again. "Why do you always let him do this to you? You're so used to the way Mingi treats you and you do nothing to change that. You always let him in. You're so brainwashed and you literally have no respect for yourself, it's fucking sad."

"You know nothing about our relationship." You're crying and angrily wiping away at your tears, unsure of how else to act, what else to say. Sure, you and Seonghwa have gotten into petty fights and arguments. Mostly over dumb shit, but nothing ever this serious. You know he cares, and he means well. But this anger, this seemingly pent up frustration— you aren't entirely sure where it was stemming from. You have never seen him act this way and quite frankly, this part of Seonghwa is very difficult to navigate.

You've never had to.

"Yeah, because I wasn't the one rescuing you in the middle of the night every time he decided to throw your ass out, right? Because I wasn't the one having to calm you down when you were crying? Because I wasn't the one whose had to pick up the pieces every time he broke your heart to try and chase after somebody else? When he says all those shitty things about you that get to your head? When he'd fucking leave you stranded?" He shakes his head. "I'm sure I know nothing about your relationship." The two of you are staring at each other, both at a loss for words after everything has been laid out on the table. Seonghwa is the first to break, having enough of this bullshit and not wanting to say anything else. Mostly because he still cares about you and your feelings, and it's breaking his heart to see you crying over him this time. "I'm done here. I'm sure San will take you home."

"Whatever, fuck you." You respond before turning on your heel to walk away. As soon as you've created enough distance between you and Seonghwa, you find yourself stopping in your path to sob into your hands. It isn't until a few minutes later that you feel hands on your arms, a familiar touch that belongs to somebody else dear to you—

"Hey, let's get you home." San says, with Wooyoung behind him. You can't see much due to the tears in your eyes, but you can tell it's Hongjoong walking alongside of Seonghwa, making sure he's okay and pushing him along towards the car.

"He'll be okay. Just needs some time to breathe." Wooyoung adds, holding out his arm so that you can slip yourself right underneath while walking to San's car. "You alright?" Wooyoung pouts, wiping some of the straggling tears escaping your bottom lids.

"Mhm." You lie, just to keep the walk quiet and peaceful. And it is for a bit, even as you sit in the backseat of San's car. The only thing filling the space is the music playing through bluetooth— Wooyoung's playlist, actually. San peeks over at you through the rearview mirror, feeling bad for how everything went down. But, he gets it. He gets Seonghwa. You do deserve better. Mingi should never get an ounce of your attention after how he's treated you— esp with Seonghwa being here all along.

"You know he just really cares about you, right?" San breaks the silence.

"I know." You mumble, head leaning back against the seat while you look out the window. "I've just never seen him act that way."

"It's Mingi." Wooyoung adds. "Can I be honest?" He turns to look at you with doe eyes. "I'm not trying to attack you, I promise. We see both sides." You nod quietly. "It's hard when you have history with someone, and it's hard to undo bad habits you've learned in the relationship. We know Mingi was someone special to you, but he hasn't been good for you for a long time. And there's no changing that man at this point. If it's anybody, Seonghwa knows all of that very well, especially when he's been by your side throughout everything." Wooyoung lets out a small sigh. "I'm certain he's hurt because even after everything he's done to be there, Mingi's actions seem to be dismissible. And his actions get overlooked."

"Woo, I'm not even dismissing Mingi's actions."

"Okay, baby girl. You're not. But, I think Seonghwa would have appreciated if you were there for him tonight instead of getting upset. He just wants to keep you safe."

"His goal has always been to keep you safe." San adds softly, driving towards your place.

"I didn't want Hwa to get hurt, h-he didn't have to do that." You sniffle, leaning your head against the window.

"You know he's not gonna sit back and let that shit happen." Woo adds, also leaning his head back against the headrest— a small headache forming after tonight's events. When you finally get home, San and Wooyoung offer to stay the night to keep you company, but you politely decline. They walk you to the door and give you big hugs, asking you a million times if you're sure about being alone tonight.

And you quietly nod.

Because there's nothing else you'd rather be than alone tonight. You want to be alone in your own space, crying alone in your bed; head against the pillow, tucked underneath your sheets.

You want to be alone.

Meanwhile, Seonghwa is struggling. He isn't sure what to do, hates not having you by his side. He doesn't know what's gonna happen from here on out, what will be left of you two after all this.

From the kiss, to Mingi, to the argument.

It's so fucked up.

Seonghwa hadn't even realized how much of his life was dedicated to you— how much of his life was just you. Even when he tried so hard for it to not be you.

"Fuck!" Seonghwa groans and slams his hand against a brick wall in passing.

"Aye, come on now." Hongjoong clicks his teeth and pushes him away from the wall, urging him to continue down the car. "Don't hurt yourself."

"I swear to God if I ever see Mingi—"

"You won't. He should know better, and hopefully Y/N does, too." Hwa lets out a hefty sigh as he swings Joong's door open and plops into the passenger's seat. Not much is said between the two, even as Hongjoong drives off to his place. Seonghwa rests his head back and shuts his eyes, equally angry, yet dizzy from the alcohol still running through him.

"I don't know what to do, Joong. I can't keep doing this just for it to get me nowhere."

"You two really need to fucking talk." Hongjoong does a slight head tilt as he continues to drive to Seonghwa's place. "I don't mean to make this worse, but I saw you two." Seonghwa looks at him before resting his head back against the headrest again. "I didn't come so I could give you guys some space."

"Fuck." Hwa repeats again with a heavy sigh. "Yeah, I don't know where this leaves us."

"Give it a few days or whatever, but you need to figure this out with her." Seonghwa doesn't speak anymore, mainly because he's starting to feel nauseous after the adrenaline, the alcohol. He's doing his best to keep it together. But, on top of that, he has a ton of thoughts swirling in his mind— he doesn't really know how to tackle them or where to even start. In the end, he's afraid of what this will do to your relationship.

You and him.

In the end, he just doesn't know anymore.

This is the longest Seonghwa hasn't talked to you. It's been a little over two weeks— usually, the two of you would break in a few hours, not wanting to be without the other for long.

But this, this was different.

Of course, everything felt awful. You both felt awkward about having to be the first person to break the silence, both remembering that night and how heated it had gotten.

The kiss.

The argument.

Everything about the situation felt like doom, chaos. A whole whirlwind of emotions and feelings overpowering each other, threatening to burst at the seams.

Seonghwa had thought long and hard about this, though. For him, he decided he just needed to step back and give himself a breather. Let him do things for himself, carry on with the mentality that he'd finally put himself first. So, that's what he's been trying to do. It doesn't mean it doesn't suck, though. It does. It's terrible. He's gotten so used to having you by his side, so used to running to you first about anything and everything.

He's had to bite his tongue when he finally nailed that fucking uni pasta recipe he had been experimenting for years. Because he wanted to tell you he did so, wanted to invite you over so you could be the first to taste it;

Oh well.

His heart sinks when the realization hits him again, and he's having to give himself a 'lil pep talk to push through. He can't be the person to say sorry first, he can't be the first to break— not when he didn't do anything wrong. He needs to stop apologizing when he's not in the wrong or when he feels bad. He's given you way too much of that, and this time around, he wasn't going to.

He needs you to be the first to break. Needs you to be the one to say sorry. Needs you to show him you understand and that you would never intentionally hurt him, especially over Song Mingi.

He's still counting the days. Maybe he'll have to keep doing so. Gives him time to himself, some peace. Let's him know how much you'd truly work to salvage your relationship with him.

Your own bestfriend before anything.

Because he knows he'd do anything to keep you by his side. He would. It just sucks that he doesn't know if you would do the same. He can't confidently say the same.

But, you absolutely would. Days and nights have passed and you could barely sleep, always questioning what Seonghwa was doing and if he was even thinking about you. This was on you, though. You knew it. You just didn't know how to say it to him and it's definitely a learning lesson for you— all in all, you wanna be better and you wanna be better for him. You miss Seonghwa a lot. You truly didn't know what it meant to be missing your other half until now;

Empty, alone.

Cold.

You sigh as you toss the pillow aside and sit up in bed, checking the time on the clock.

3am.

You couldn't sleep, and you freeze. You freeze because you have no one to call anymore. So you turn, and turn. No longer able to find sleep for the rest of the night.

When the sun finally rises, you force yourself to get up to go for a run and grab a good cup of coffee and breakfast. It was your day off, but you thought you could at least take advantage of being up early; take advantage of soaking in the morning sun.

You were tired of sulking and being in bed. Being cooped up at home when you weren't at work.

You throw on your leggings and matching sports bra, grabbing an oversized zip-up to shield you from the morning cold. Yaya is already working in the kitchen, so you quickly let her know you'll be out for a run— rushing over to your car to avoid any questioning this early in the day. You drive over to a lake near town that has a 4.5 mile trail around its perimeter. Since it's still early, the trail isn't crowded with people; perfect enough for you to get a good 3 mile run in. You hadn't ran in a minute, but 3 miles seemed to be a breeze when there was a lot of pent up frustration and anger you needed to release. Of course, you were beyond tired at the end, but it wasn't anything coffee and a good pastry couldn't fix.

At the cafe, you grab a seat right outside of the entrance to enjoy your breakfast, scrolling through social media per usual. You click into your messages for god knows why, knowing Seonghwa hadn't messaged you.

He hasn't.

Why would he?

You sigh, the sadness now returning. You quickly clean up and toss your trash into the bin inside the restaurant before grabbing your cup of iced coffee and heading home. Once you get home, you throw your clothes into the laundry and take a hot, steamy shower, letting your worries go momentarily.

And then, you nap. Exhaustion finally hitting you from the lack of sleep.

Post-nap, you take time to clean around your suite and hang out with Yaya, watching a few episodes of her current favorite show. You help Yaya with a few things around the house, taking the time to bring her to the grocery store just right before the sun sets. Even though Yaya can tell something is wrong, she doesn't bother you or question you like you'd expect— probably leaving it for Soyeon to do the heavy lifting. You do appreciate that you don't have to dwell on it while spending time with her, though.

Soyeon, Charli and Junseo had visited the past days, and although Charli was able to make you smile and laugh, Soyeon could also easily tell something was wrong without you having to say anything at all. Your demeanor had changed, you seemed to be snapping quicker than usual. Attitude wasn't so bright and happy. Seonghwa hadn't been around, but the other boys had quickly stopped by just to hang out.

You dimmed it down to a 'little fight between you and Hwa,' but Soyeon knew better than that, and she was hoping she'd be able to get it out of you soon. This wasn't like you, and it wasn't like Seonghwa to not come around for days on end.

This wasn't just a little fight.

"Hey." She calls you when you're settled back in your humble abode, and although you don't mind hearing from your boss-slash-cousin, you could do without any work-related conversations right now.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I'm leaving the restaurant soon. Yoongi and Junseo are going to close up. It's gotten quiet. Can I stop by? I have some food for you."

"Sure. Where's Chacha?"

"With Junseo's parents."

"Mm." You hum. "Okay."

"Okay, I'll be there in about 30 minutes or so. I'm just gonna wrap a few things up here."

"Sounds good." You hang up the call, a bit relieved that your cousin [not your cousin on boss-mode] is coming over.

When she arrives, it's about 7:45pm. She quietly knocks before announcing her presence— stepping out of her shoes before joining you on your living room floor in front of the coffee table and TV. For a good part of the conversation, you indulge in some of the chicken she brought over, listening to her update you about the restaurant and some drama on his side of the family. She asks if there's anything new going on with you or the boys, and you simply shrug.

This is definitely her way of poking at you, and you're very close to cracking because who else can you open up to about this?

No one, and at this point, you need to. You need the reassurance.

"Are you sure nothing's up? To be honest, I know something's bothering you, and I know this wasn't just a 'little fight' between you and Hwa." She forms air quotes. That's the moment you do crack, tears welling in your eyes when you revisit that night. You tell Soyeon everything and confide in her, giving her more details about your dinner with San, to dancing with Seonghwa and kissing him, to Mingi and their fight. You tell her it's been about two weeks since you've spoken and you know Seonghwa is waiting for you to make the first move.

You tell her how you've started to realize your feelings for Seonghwa after everything and how incredibly terrified you are of them.

"I don't know what to do, Soyeon. He probably hates me."

"Just go over there and talk to him, Y/N. What are you waiting for? You know he's waiting for you to take initiative, and you should this time. This is all you." You sigh, bottom lip trembling as you begin to cry.

"I know."

"You know Seonghwa the best. It's so obvious how much he likes you and adores you after all this time. Why are you so afraid?"

"I know, I know." You sniffle. "I just am, Soyeon. I'm afraid of getting hurt, I'm afraid of Seonghwa realizing this isn't what he expected. I'm afraid of Seonghwa." You cry a bit harder and Soyeon is holding you close, rubbing your back as you lean against her shoulder. "I'm scared of this ruining us completely. What if we do get together and things don't pan out the way we expected? I'm so scared of losing him completely that I just don't know where I lie in all of this despite my feelings for him."

"You can't be afraid about every little thing, Y/N. I know it's scary, and life hasn't been entirely nice to you. But, this is your bestfriend. You can't just sit around and brush it under the rug when you know this is something you two need to discuss. Regardless of what happens, Seonghwa will never let you go. You two have been through so much together, he would never wanna do life without you by his side. Never." She continues to reassure you, giving you the push you need to get yourself together and just face it.

You loved Seonghwa, and it was time you looked beneath the surface.

Soyeon didn't stay too long after the two of you finish eating last night— turning the conversation into something more lighthearted after you cried and thanked her for being there for her. Her reassurance worked so much that you're ready to tackle the morning bright and early, throwing on some clothes to head over to Seonghwa's place. After Soyeon left, you called Wooyoung and asked what time Seonghwa's shift was for tomorrow. He snorted and told you it was 10am and asked what you were up to. You let Wooyoung know about your talk with Soyeon and that you missed him, finally throwing the stupid shit aside to just try and talk to him about that night.

To apologize, to make things right.

To tell him that you love him.

You keep it casual and comfy, throwing on some black and white wide-leg track pants, a crop tank and a baggy grey zip-up hoodie. You throw on your shoes, swiftly grab your keys and crossbody bag, jogging out to your car with a quick 'good morning' yell to Yaya from the side of the house. As you drive over to Seonghwa's apartment, you are equally filled with anxiety, nervousness and adrenaline. You're ready to put this behind you, but you're especially ready to talk to Seonghwa again. See him. Hug him.

Keep him close, never let him stray far again.

You pull into a guest lot, shutting off your car and wondering if you should've brought over some coffee, breakfast, anything, to make this a bit less awkward.

"Fuck." You mutter to yourself as you shake the thoughts from your head; no time for overthinking while you're running on limited time. You jog up the steps and up to Seonghwa's apartment, hesitating when you get to the front door before you finally bring your knuckles to the surface to give a couple of loud knocks. It takes a second before you hear rustling behind the door, Seonghwa clearing his throat before he swings the door open in a white tank and sweats. Your eyes immediately meet his, but he looks surprised, caught off guard even.

But, caught off guard in a sense that he's been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.

You don't understand it until you see someone in the back try to slip by unnoticed, but she's wearing Seonghwa's shirt. Your heart immediately sinks to your gut and it makes you feel queasy. It shouldn't, but you hate to say it does.

It's probably Makayla.

It's too fucking late.

"Oh." Is all you say, and Seonghwa feels his heart break to a million pieces when he sees the look on your face. You're trying your hardest not to show how much it hurts you, but he knows you. He knows you well, that's for damn sure.

"Y/N—"

"It's good, I didn't meant to interrupt, I'm sorry— I'll catch you later." You ramble and rush down the steps, hurrying away from the apartment to prevent Seonghwa from seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks.

This was your fault anyway, who else was there to blame?

"Y/N!" Seonghwa calls out one last time, but you're already running to your car. Very obvious that you're wiping away at your face as you sink into the driver's seat and pull out of the spot without turning back. "Fuck." Seonghwa groans to himself, and Makayla kinda just watches everything unfold right in front of her eyes. He runs a hand through his long, black locks, shutting the door quietly behind him as he turns to her and gives her a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry."

"That was Y/N?"

"Uh, yeah. My bestfriend." He looks at her, and she can already tell. She can already tell that it's you, and there is more to it than that. He loves you, and it's very, very obvious.

"You love her, don't you?" He lets out a breath and shrugs. He doesn't say anything for a bit, rather looks at her with those big doe-eyes before she catches him subtly nodding and diverting his attention to the floor.

"I'm so, so sorry, Makayla. I really am." What the fuck else can he say? He must look so fucked up right now; having taken her out the night before and let her spend the night after fumbling in the sheets. He was curious to see if Makayla would be the door to a new path, something that'll help him move forward. He had hope. After this morning's events, that clearly wasn't going to be the case and he wasn't going to lie about it.

"Don't be." She gives him a small, toothless smile. Because although it does suck, she's been there before and she'd hate for Seonghwa to miss out on the person he truly wants to be with. "You should really talk to her before it's too late."

♡ FLASHBACK | EARLY COLLEGE

You're on Seonghwa's back as he trails behind the group, walking up the path to the view of the city behind campus. Hongjoong, San, Wooyoung and a few other heads had wanted to go on a late night walk— the goal being the view at the end for everyone to just sit and admire. At first, you didn't feel like going with a bunch of obnoxious boys. But, you had been cooped up in your room doing nothing but studying all day. It sounded better knowing Seonghwa would be around and being in the crisp, night air.

Seonghwa continues to walk up the slightly steep hill before spotting the view just down the street, you jumping off his back as soon as it becomes clear in sight.

"Hwa! Look at it!" You squeal, running to one of the free areas near the fence to get a good picture of the view. "It's so pretty! Look!"

"Yeah, it is." He catches his breath as he walks over next to you. Trekking that hill is not for the weak.

"Oh my god, look at all those lights. It's so beautiful. I didn't realize how flat the town is." You're mainly thinking out loud, saying it to yourself, but Seonghwa chuckles next to you and quietly nods. "I think I can see our favorite convenient store from here, and our favorite spot to get jajangmyeon."

"How would you know, they're little blobs right now."

"How would you not know, Seonghwa? Are you a fraud? Do you even like those places like you say you do?" He snorts.

"Relax, Nancy Drew. It was just a question."

"I just know." You say so matter-of-fact-ly that Seonghwa smiles to himself while you continue to look out at the view. "The stars are so pretty tonight, weather is so perfect. Ugh. We should do this more often." You continue to go on and Seonghwa just likes listening to you talk. He always has, always will.

Everything about you was his favorite.

"I— what?" You look up and see Seonghwa still staring at you before he lets out a deep chuckle.

"Nothing."

"Pichu, what is it?" He looks at you again, and it's obvious he wants to tell you something but is preventing himself from spilling it out onto the table for whatever reason. You turn towards him and cross your arms, tapping your foot to wait for his response.

"Nothing! I'm just— nothing."

"Park Seonghwa."

"I-I—" He sighs. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm glad you ended up going on the walk with us. I wanted you here."

"Aw, you little sap." You pinch his bicep and he yelps. "Are you sure that's all?" He nods.

"Thank you, Y/N. For everything." He ruffles your hair and you can't help but pout at. "You know? For being a pain in the ass bestfriend."

"I beg to differ, but you're welcome." You chuckle. "Always us, right pichu?" You playfully punch him on the bicep before returning your attention back to the view.

And he'll forever remember this as the first time he tried to confess his feelings for you.

♡ END

♡ taglist: @hwasbabygirl @fairyofhueningkai @chngbnwf @tinyteezer @everyonewooeverywhere @pearbunny @mxnsxngie @starhwahwa @woosmaid @yeosangsbbg @jycas @lyracarvahall @huachengsbestie01 @asjkdk @bintificreads @interweab @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs

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dira333 · 4 months

Text

Date Nights - Aizawa Shouta

From the Date Night Series - Tagging @alienaiver

Edit: You need to have this visual while reading

“Are you ready to go?”

Shouta looks up from his desk. He’d been so close to resting his head on it, to giving his tired eyes some much-needed rest.

Your smile is warm and inviting. And it makes something tingle in the back of his brain, something he’d been trying to remember all week.

“Oh no,” he groans softly, “I forgot our date.”

Your smile doesn’t falter.

“I heard about your day from Hizashi,” your voice does not carry any resentment yet his heart is thundering in his chest.

God, he’d been so anxious about it, had been pondering where to go and what to do for hours, how could he forget?

“Let me just get a coffee real quick and we’ll be good to go,” Shouta insists. He’ll also need at least five minutes in a bathroom and a spare change of clothes. He knows he looks more like a homeless person than anything else right now and he probably smells like it too.

“No need,” you wave him off. His heart stutters to a halt.

Please don’t cancel, Shouta thinks, just as you reach out and take his hand. Your fingers are warm against his own cold ones, bad circulation be damned.

“I asked you out, so of course I planned the date. Come on, we don’t want to miss anything.”

“But coffee-” He manages, his heart pitter-pattering away as he follows you down the hallways of the school.

They are deserted, thankfully. As much as he loves the feel of your hand in his, he couldn’t bear it if anyone saw.

Your car is a lime-green monstrosity. You smile sheepishly when he stares at it.

“I like bright colors,” you shrug, “And I’ve never lost my car in a car park since I’ve bought it.”

He can’t argue against that. The seats are soft and he can feel himself slipping, almost falling asleep against the window. When he jerks away, adamant to at least look awake if he’s not looking like much else, he finds your hand resting on his knee. His mouth runs dry. Can he? Is he supposed to?

He puts his hand on yours and you turn to smile at him before looking back at the road.

It’s a quiet ride. Somewhere in the organized chaos of his brain, he jots down that you don’t listen to music while you drive. It’s a welcome change from sharing rides with Hizashi.

“We’re here.” You park in front of an apartment complex. “Come on up.”

Your keys jingle in your hand as you walk in front of him, up the stairs and down a hallway. You open the door that has your name on it.

His heart thunders traitorously. Did you bring him to your place for your first date? Why?

His mouth won’t let him form words, so he follows you silently, his mind racing ahead.

It’s only when he’s slipped out of his shoes and pulled on the bunny slippers you’ve placed for him, that he makes sene of what’s going on.

In the middle of your living room is a fort of pillows and blankets, big enough to house All Might in his muscle form if he wanted to.

Shouta stops and stares. You do flourish your arms. “Tada! Do you want something to drink first? I thought it was a good idea because you honestly always look like you don’t get enough rest and it’s important to take care of each other’s needs in a relationship and I asked you out so-”

It’s the first time he’s heard you rambling today and the familiar sound soothes his nerves a little. At least you’re nervous too.

He steps forward, boldened by your own actions, and kisses you.

You sink into it right away, arms thrown around him to pull him even closer.

When you pull back first, he can’t help but chase after you, to sink further into your embrace as you giggle with your face pressed against his neck.

“I’ll make you something to drink, okay?” You whisper, face still hidden away. “Make yourself comfortable.”

He wakes up hours later, throat perched, head in your lap.

You’re reading something on a tablet, one hand free to drag itself through his hair in a motion that could put him back to sleep again.

“So, about a second date…” You ask when you stop at his place in the morning so that he can get a fresh set of clothes before work. You’re not looking at him but your hands are squeezing the steering wheel, telling him how nervous you are.

He leans over and kisses you, pouring all his feelings into the gesture.

“There’s a bookstore in my neighborhood,” he offers, “We could go there after school. Today shouldn’t be as draining and even if, I want to go with you.”

Your smile could light up the world. It certainly lights up his.

“Ready to go?” Shouta’s patting himself down as he asks. He’s got his keyes, his pain medication, his phone is fully charged and his wallet’s there too.

You’re still on the Couch, petting Muffin. The old tabby is purring so loud he can hear it from the entryway.

“For what?” You ask, a little distracted by Muffin trying to chew on your fingertips.

“We’ve got a Date, honey. Why did you think Deku picked up Eri?”

“Because he wants to spend time with her?” You pull Muffin from your lap and deposit her on a pillow, kissing her head when she mews.

You yawn as you walk over, don’t cover your mouth in favor of brushing the pet hair from your legs.

“What kind of date?” You ask as you pull close and kiss him, snuggle into his embrace.

“There’s this new Bookshop a few blocks down. I walked past it a few times when I went to the park with Eri and it looked promising.”

“Really?” You furrow your brows. “How do I not know about it? I’ve never seen one when I go to the park with her.”

“That’s because we take a different route. More cats, less foot traffic.” He kisses your cheek and pushes you toward the bedroom.

“Five minutes, you need a different sweater. I won’t go out with you looking like this.”

You stick your tongue out at him, but comply.

When you come back, he can’t help the laugh bubbling in his throat. You’re wearing a Ganriki Neko sweater in purple and turquoise over a purple skirt and turquoise tights, an outfit he’s seen last at one of Hizashi’s costume parties.

“How do I look?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Like I need sunglasses to take you in,” He jokes.

The walk to the bookstore is short and quiet. You’ve been distracted lately,

Maybe it’s the new Class you’ve got or Eri’s recurring nightmares, but he’d been planning a date like this for a while now. Taking a break just hasn’t gotten easier now that they’re parents.

“Pspsps,” He leans down to feed a snack to the little black kitten that Eri has fallen in love with. It’s well groomed and clearly belongs to someone, but it loves coming over to say hi.

“I’ll get us some drinks,” Shouta declares the moment you step into the store. It’s lovely, not entirely rebuilt, but rather renovated, giving the old, darkened wood some new life.

You nod and wander around, peeking at the shelves in search of something that tickles your interest. He finds you in the non-fiction aisle not much later, deeply invested in a cookbook.

“This has everything,” you explain. “How to eat during your pregnancy or if you want to increase the chances as well as how to feed children of different ages.”

“Okay? How are the recipes though? We’ve got plenty of cookbooks at home we don’t use.”

“True,” you grumble. It’s your least favorite thing about him, how he tends to stop you from impulse buying. He offers you your drink before you can dwell on that any longer.

“For you, sugar with a side of coffee.”

“Har Har.” You mock laugh before taking a sip of the concoction, furrowing your brows a little. “It tastes a little off,” you claim. “Did you ask for something from the menu?”

“No, I gave them your special recipe. Sorry, do you want something different?”

“No, it’s fine. They probably made it for the first time this way.” You take another sip and your brows relax. “I’m just a little weird today.”

“I’m a little weird everyday,” he offers and you lean into him, heavy, warm and familiar.

“Let’s take a look around, shall we?” He grabs your free hand with his, swings them around as he pulls you forward. There’s plenty to see and soon enough, his arms grow loaded with books. The newest edition of the manga Hitoshi reads, a signed biography of a Hero Hizashi’s still very enthusiastic about, bookmarks and a little Neko Nightlight for Eri, the list goes on.

“I need to sit down for a bit,” Shouta exclaims when you turn back towards the non-fiction again. “You can find me at the children’s books.”

“Okay.” You get on your tiptoes and kiss his stubble. “I won’t take long.”

Shouta’s halfway through a book about a little mole looking for a home when you come back. He’s accustomed to the sound of your footsteps, even if they come a little more hesitant, like now.

You’ve got one book in your arms, the title hidden as it’s pressed against your stomach.

There’s a shy smile on your face as you turn it around to show him the cover.

“How to be Pregnant for Dummies.”

He reads it and reads it again. The news take a moment to seep into his brain but when it does, he almost takes down the book display with how fast he jumps from his seat.

“No way!”

“SHHH!” Someone shushes him from the front. Shouta doesn’t care.

You’re smiling, eyes a little teary.

“Since when do you know?”

“I got the results today, but I missed my period so I’ve had a hunch for a week or so. It’s still pretty early.” You giggle when he peppers kisses all over your face, making it almost impossible for you to keep talking.

“Sorry, I was a little bit in my head the last few days.”

“It’s okay. It’s big news.”

“Hm. How do we tell Eri? And Hitoshi? And-”

Shouta turns around and pulls a book from the pile he wants to buy.

“Little Neko got a sibling?” You ask, a little dumbfounded. “How did you know?”

His smile is a little sheepish. He can never lie to you.

“I didn’t. But the Neko was cute.”

You laugh at that, pull him closer. It reminds him of their first second date.

Of cuddling in a corner at the bookstore, away from prying eyes.

Some things will never change, even with a metal leg and a new life on the way.

“Where do you wanna go next?” He asks when the books are paid for, hanging off his right arm as you lean onto his left.

You blink up at him, eyes still a little red-rimmed from all the happy tears.

“When’s Eri coming home?”

“Two hours, maybe. Do you wanna go home and cuddle?”

You ponder that for a second, your hands warm on his.

“Let’s get ice cream,” you decide, a wide smile on your face. “And when we get back, we can make a fort!”

Shouta pulls you close, presses a kiss onto the top of your head.

“I love you.”

“Mhm,” You grin up at him. “I love you more.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #my hero academia #my hero academia fluff #mha fluff #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa fluff #aizawa and eri #dad!zawa #aizawa shouta

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worldlxvlys · 28 days

Text

running

part seven of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

a/n -> read the previous part for context !!

ever since the day he apologized, matt had been acting weird. there was a very obvious tension between us, but neither of us said anything about it. his brothers on the other hand, were quick to point it out.

“ok, what’s up with you two? did you fuck again, or something?” chris asked, earning a quick hit and an incredulous look from nick. matt just rolled his eyes, answering with a brief “no”, before turning in the direction he came from.

he was distant and quicker to anger than he usually was. it seemed like the smallest things set him off, he was just so mad. his recent attitude has made me quite distant myself because being around him wasn’t very enjoyable.

he had his moments where he seemed like his usual self, but for the most part, he was miserable. of course i was aware that this was partially my fault, as right after our conversation about the night we slept together his entire demeanor changed.

i felt terrible, and i wanted nothing more than to help him feel better. but i tried to figure out what was wrong, and he just pushed me away. i wanted to be there for him, but he was a grown man at the end of the day. if i did or said something to upset him, he needed to communicate what that was.

so for the past week, we didn’t hang out unless it was with his brothers. we barely spoke two words to each other, and he couldn’t even look at me on the rare occasion that we did. i tried not to let it get to me, but he was supposed to be my best friend. now he couldn’t even be around me ?

MATT’S POV

just when i think i can’t possibly make things worse than they already are, i prove myself wrong. i somehow managed to completely drive y/n away, and now i couldn’t even look at her.

every time i saw her, i felt the shame and guilt eat away at me. i’ve treated her terribly for the past week, and now she couldn’t stand being around me.

at first i just wanted a little bit of distance, because i knew that the second i felt her soft fingers on my face or watched her plump lips pull into a smile, i would be gone. she’s constantly running through my thoughts, and i have no way of stopping it.

every day chris made these sly comments about how i should make a move on her before someone else did, and that pissed me off. his words constantly rang through my ears, and it made me paranoid.

every time she smiled at her phone and typed away at her screen, which was happening a lot more often recently, i got more and more annoyed. i did my best to push it down and ignore it, but it always seemed to make things worse.

whether she was talking to someone or not, she was growing more and more distant by the day. i found myself missing her when she was in the same room as me, which made me realize just how bad i let the situation get.

i decided to go over to her house to talk to her, knowing i had to clear the air. and that’s how i ended up here, standing at her doorstep anxiously, trying to gain the confidence to knock.

before i could force myself to do it, her door swung open. i must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, my eyes widened as she caught me off guard. she let out a chuckle at that, “i saw you on the doorbell camera, i thought i’d just make this easier for you”

well that’s embarrassing. “you saw that whole thing?” i asked, hoping it wasn’t true. when she nodded her head in response, i closed my eyes shaking my head slightly as i cursed myself. “it’s ok, matt. it was cute” she spoke, a small smile on her face.

i felt my face heat up while i prayed she didn’t notice the deep shade of red that my face turned at the comment. “come on” she motioned to the inside of her house, choosing not to comment on my flustered state.

READER’S POV

when i moved to the side to let matt in, i caught sight of a small paper bag in his hand while he passed me. he led the way to my room, pushing my door open and making himself comfortable on my bed.

“i was thinking we do a movie night?” he asked hopefully, emptying the bag of its contents; an array of different candies, snacks, and a drink for each of us.

whenever matt and i had a disagreement, our way of calling a truce was to have a movie night. we would take the time to talk it out and end off the night with cuddles and a movie.

“sounds perfect” i told him, grabbing the remote and moving to sit across from him. i passed him the remote when i felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. i pulled it out, opening it to see a text from the guy i’ve been talking to for the past week.

dylan 🤠

hey beautiful ;)

what are you up to ??

y/n ⭐️

abt to watch a movie with matt !!

“what movie should we watch?” matt asked, but i was barely able to register his words as i read the next text.

dylan 🤠

matt is your best friend right ?? i thought he wasn’t talking to you ??

y/n ⭐️

yeah movie nights are kinda like our way of calling a truce yk ??

dylan 🤠

ohhh i get u

y/n ⭐️

wbu ??

dylan 🤠

oh yk just texting this girl rn

a lil nervous tho ngl, she’s drop dead gorgeous

wayyyy out of my league

“hellooo? you gonna sit there and text all night or are we ever gonna talk?” matt’s annoyed voice pulled my attention away from my phone.

“hold on, i’m talking to someone right now. just give me a sec” i spoke, looking back down to my phone.

y/n ⭐️

who could you possibly be talking about 🤨

dylan 🤠

your mom :)

y/n ⭐️

that wasn’t funny

dylan 🤠

i laughed

y/n ⭐️

well that makes one of us

i watched as the three dots moved on the screen, before my phone was roughly pulled out of my hand. “what the fuck, matt ? give it back” i yelled as he moved it out of my reach.

i quickly moved over to him, climbing over his body to reach for the phone. he was quick to throw my phone onto my carpeted floor, grabbing my wrists before i could move to get it.

“who was that?” he asked, looking up at me. “none of your damn business” i answered. “considering you’re too busy looking down at your phone to talk to me, i’d say it is”

i let out a dry chuckle at that, “now you wanna talk ? that’s new. usually you just bottle up your feelings and throw a hissy fit instead of telling me what the issue is” i spoke, glaring down at him. my phone vibrated on its spot in the floor, but i ignored it.

“why are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not, this is what it looks like when you act like an adult and talk about things. i know that might be a little foreign to you” i jeered, his face dropping at the comment.

when i heard my phone vibrate again, i went to go pick it up, but was stopped as matt’s hands gripped onto my waist firmly, pulling me down onto his lap.

“look, i obviously hurt you and i’m really sorry for that-” he started, stopping as my phone continued to vibrate on the floor. “who the hell is blowing up your phone like that?” he started, starting to become annoyed again.

“it’s no one” i answered.

“who is it?” he posed his words as a question, but it sounded more like an order.

“nobody”

“why are you lying?” he asked, receiving a sigh from me. he just wasn’t gonna let it go.

“it’s just this guy i’m talking to” i answered. before i could even process what was happening, matt had flipped us over so that he was the one one top.

“what’s his name?” matt asked, his hands tightly clenching the sheets on either side of my head. my eyes trailed down to his tatted arm, watching as it flexed when he shifted his weight onto it.

“his name doesn’t matter” i answered, willing myself to look anywhere but at his lips. it was tempting, the short distance between us making it hard to focus on anything else.

“is there anything you can tell me about him?” matt asked.

“yeah. he’s not confused.” i answered without thinking, the words slipping out before i could stop them. “he’s made his feelings for me clear” i finished.

“his feelings? he’s only known you for…what, a week?” he asked, tilting his head at me. “he knows what he wants matt” i shrugged, “do you?” i asked.

the question seemed to catch him off guard, as he didn’t utter a word. instead, his eyes dropped down to my lips for a split second, jumping back to my own eyes quickly.

“don’t do that” i stopped him, “don’t look at me like you want to kiss me. we both know you don’t” i told him, turning my head away from him.

he was quick to place his hand on my cheek, moving my face so i was looking at him while he spoke. “why would you think that?” he asked, his eyes softening.

“why would you keep running away from me if you did?” i asked, trying my best not to show how hurt i actually was. i blinked back the tears i felt beginning to form, taking a deep breath.

matt picked up on my shift in mood, immediately moving to sit next to me. “fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry” he whispered repeatedly, pulling me into a hug. “it’s not on purpose, i swear. and it’s definitely not your fault, the last thing i ever wanted was to hurt you” i cried silently in his arms, his hands squeezing my waist tightly.

he pulled away to look at me, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “is there something wrong with me?” i asked, needing an answer to the question i’d been asking myself constantly throughout the week. why? why was he avoiding me like the plague? what did i do to deserve this?

“of course not. this is my fault, it’s not you. i’m just confused and i have no clue what to do. i don’t know what i want, and i didn’t know how to deal with-” he stopped abruptly, like he was about to slip up and say something he didn’t want me to hear.

“i just didn’t want to hurt you while i was figuring out my shit, so i distanced myself from you. i know it was wrong, but i didn’t know what to do. and then i realized you were talking to someone and it just made me so mad, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you”

“you’re jealous? matt, it’s not like he’s replacing you. he’s just a new friend” i pointed out. “i’m right here, i’m still your best friend. and you can always talk to me about anything. you know that, right?” i asked.

“yeah, i know. but are you sure you’re just friends? you said he has feelings for you” matt spoke, looking down as he spoke the last sentence. “is he the only one?” i asked bluntly, tired of beating around the bush.

matt’s head snapped up at the call-out, his lips turning upwards into a small smile. “i-” he was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. he looked like he wanted to continue, but i stopped him, “just answer it, it’s ok” i nodded to him, watching him pull it out.

“it’s chris” he sighed out, before hitting the answer button. while he spoke to chris, i heard my own phone vibrate on the ground. i glanced over to matt, who was fully engrossed in his conversation, before grabbing it off of the floor.

i opened it to several unopened texts from dylan, but the last one is what stood out to me;

dylan 🤠

hey, you home? i’m at your door ;)

what the fuck? he knew i was home, i told him that matt and i were having a movie night.

i glanced over to matt, as he hung up the phone. “he was just asking if i wanted anything from target” he informed me, putting his phone down.

he noticed my widened eyes, his face filling with concern, “what’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“um, my….uh-” i was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “here, i’ll get it for you” he spoke, walking out of the room before i could stop him.

“wait, matt-” i started, a few feet behind him. by the time i caught up to him, the door was already open, matt and dylan were face-to-face with each other.

“hey, i’m dylan. you must be matt” he almost seemed amused at matt’s confused face.

“hey, baby” he spoke to me, earning a cold stare from matt as he realized who the man in front of him was. his jaw was clenched tightly as he turned his gaze to me, his eyebrows raised.

shit.

hehehe

masterlist

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lilac-5ky · 11 months

Text

The one where he carries you home after a fight (Toji xFem!Reader)

A/N: My 7AM sleepless demons wrote this, not me.

warning: mentions of alcohol

Series Masterlist

“Thanks for coming, Toji. She wanted us to hit Roppongi next.”

“No problem.” Toji mutters as he lifts your limp body over his shoulders—arms thrown over his neck and knees buckled around his torso.

He nearly winces at the overwhelming stench of tequila emanating from your breath, praying that the wetness seeping through his shirt is drool and not vomit, though that’s more like wishful thinking. You are wasted. Completely and utterly drunk out of your mind to the point where you can’t differentiate the setting or those around him.

“Mistah, drop me off at the next station,” you slur with your eyes closed, pointing somewhere on the horizon before nodding off again. This was the third time you repeated that motion.

“How much did ya make her drink?” Toji doesn’t ask so much as accuse the two women, who are quick to shut him down with the dirtiest of looks. Nothing new. Your friends never liked him, and the feeling’s mutual.

“Make her?” Utahime huffs, rolling her sleeves over her elbows. “She’s the one who dragged us out on a Tuesday night. If anything, you’re the one to blame—you pushed her to it!”

“Senpai, calm down already.” Shoko lowers her friend’s fists. Out of the two, she’s the better one at acting like she tolerates him. “What did you fight over, anyway?”

“She didn’t tell you?”

With the way you stormed out the door in your finest high-heel shoe, black party dress, and red lipstick combo, he’d expect your lovers quarrel to make headlines by midnight.

However, they both shake their heads negatively.

“Who knows?” Toji flashes an oblivious smile before he gets you going. You were so angry at him earlier, and in all honesty, he did cross a line or two, but it doesn’t feel all that important now. Come tomorrow, this will become just another entry in your record of petty arguments to look back on and laugh at.

You’ve made it halfway up the slope that leads to your crappy apartment building when he catches you flailing around on his back like a fish fresh out of water. He slots his hands into the crevices beneath your thighs, applying enough pressure so that you won’t fall.

“Rise and shine, sleepy-head.”

Your slow blinks turn rapid the second you realize your feet aren’t touching the ground and you’re piggybacking on a stranger. “W-Who are you?”

“Ya don’t remember?” Toji rolls his eyes with a loud tsk. “What was it again? Mister Taxi? Mister Killjoy? Or Mister Buzzkill?” He goes through the different names you bestowed on him in your sleep.

“Mister… Buzzkill?” Your jaw drops slack on his shoulder, only for your palms to clap at his chest in excitement a minute later. “Mister Buzzkill, I remember! You kidapped me from my friends and spoiled our fun!”

“More like your friends got sick of your ass and called me to pick up the pieces.” He argues. “Hold on tight if ya don’t wanna fall. Climb’s steep from now on.”

Strength returns to your arms as they cage his neck. “Where are you taking me, Mister Buzzkill? Are we going to party?”

“Don’tcha think you’ve had enough partying for one night, princess?” He grunts. “We’re goin’ home.”

“Home? Whose home?”

Toji’s starting to miss the you that nags him about not soaking his dirty dishes. Alcohol always chips away at your mental capacity, and while he wants to be understanding, he can’t understand that which he’s never experienced for himself. “Our home, dummy.”

The epithet doesn’t faze you in the slightest. “Are you going to exploit me?”

“Prospect makes you happy?” You hum in return. “Fine. You can pay for the ride once we make it home.”

“But…” And you sound so sad that he cocks his head to peer at your face, glassy, puppy eyes welling up with fat tears that make him wonder whether he said something hurtful again. “I don’t have any money. My husband said we’re out of money ‘cause he—he gambled it away.”

The cogs in his brain are put in reverse, reminding him of the cash he snatched from your open wallet with the intention of waging it on a guaranteed victory and the little white lie you took at face value. You didn’t even give him the chance to explain that the bills were still in his pocket because the race was called off, and he let you run off to your friends without offering a single apology.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out.” Toji squeezes your thighs reassuringly. “Ya can pay me back in kind, too.”

“But my husband—”

“Your husband is a shithead.” He spits out, hoping that his remorse registers without leaving behind any actual trace of his words.

“You are so kind, Mister Buzzkill. Unlike him—my Toji.” The fingers of your one hand pull on your wedding band until it comes off. “Wanna marry me again, Mister…Toji?”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Toji catches the wedding band right before it slips from your fingers to the street. Part of him wants to scold you for being a scatterbrained nuisance, but the part of him that finds even your plastered form endearing comes out on top.

He slides the ring around the ring finger of his ring-less hand and pieces your hands together, holding onto them until you finally reach the front door and you’re sober enough to call him by his name.

“A’right, we’re here.” Toji declares once the key’s inside the hole.

He calls out your name and shakes you softly, but there’s no answer coming from you other than a single embarrassingly loud snore. He lets go of your legs and slowly puts your feet on the floor before hoisting them up in the air again, shifting to carrying you into bridal position. Your hands reach around his neck on their own volition, and he swears your lips curl into the softest smile when your nose pressed against his shirt.

He sighs, parting the hair that’s fallen inside your agape mouth.

“What am I gonna do with you?”

#toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #toji drabbles #toji fluff #toji x yn #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro

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sethsclearwater · 2 months

Note

Hi,

I was thinking about a Seth x reader x embry where reader is helping Emily with something in the kitchen, and she burns her arm on like the oven or a pan, and they become a little overbearing with wanting to make sure she’s alright. All of her.

-✨

"ow!" you winced, immediately lifting your forearm away from the pan you had accidentally laid it on when you felt the burning hot metal against your skin.

"oh my god did you seriously just touch the pan?" emily asked, dropping the plate she was currently working on scrubbing into the sink full of sudsy water so she could spin around and take 2 quick steps over to you.

her delicate fingers were sliding over the injured limb, gently taking it into her hands so she could see what happened, "definitely feels like it," you whined, doing your best not to panic over the constant burning, despite how painful the initial contact was.

"okay let's run it under some cold water," emily suggested, helping you step over to the kitchen sink she was just standing at. as soon as she had lifted the faucet handle, cool water was spilling down onto the afflicted skin.

the relief was almost instantaneous, the cool water helping counteract the burning that was now permeating up and down your entire forearm, despite the burn only being a small patch on the center of your arm.

you let out a heavy sigh of relief, allowing your shoulders to drop as you exhaled. the lack of stress only lasted for a moment though before both of your boyfriends came stepping through the front door, happy smiles on their faces as they came back from patrol that they had been out on all morning.

you were looking over your shoulder to them as soon as you heard their footsteps, frowning when you realized they were most definitely going to make a huge deal out of this for no reason.

when they saw your frown, both boys were quick to step over to you, flooding your eardrums with a series of questions, "what happened?" "are you okay?" "does it hurt?" "can i help?"

you weren't entirely sure how to answer any of their questions, still frazzled from the pain and initial shock over the whole thing, "i promise she's fine," emily came to your rescue and answered for you, "just burned her arm a little bit is all," she added, already knowing both boys would be wanting all the details.

"oh pretty girl," seth cooed, cupping your face in his hands so he could get a good look at you while emily allowed your other imprinter to take her place and hold your arm under the running faucet while she went to go look for the first aid kid, "does it hurt?" seth asked, frowning when you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as you thought about your answer for a moment before nodding.

seth's thumbs were rubbing soothing circles against your cheek bones, "it doesn't look horrible," embry said after a moment, "what were you touching?" he asked and you frowned again, allowing your gaze to meet seth's despite the blush rapidly taking over your cheeks as you thought of just how stupid the whole situation you'd gotten yourself into was.

"was jus' trying to help emily," you murmured bashfully, leaning into seth's touch as he continued his soothing motions with his thumbs, "didn't mean to touch the pan," you added with a whisper, both seth and embry frowning when they heard the shy tone of your voice and realized just how flustered you were about hurting yourself.

seth leaned down to press a quick kiss to your forehead while embry turned the faucet off, "alright, you're okay," seth reassured, "can you let me and em take a look at it?" he asked softly while embry gently dried off the skin currently not afflicted by the burn.

you nodded, sighing when seth dropped his hands from your face in favor of sliding them down to your hips so he could lift you up and sit you down on the counter. you were now facing both boys who had equally worried expressions on their faces, none of you quite sure what to do.

luckily for the three of you, emily was coming back into the kitchen with the first aid kit, quickly handing it off to embry, "can you put the petroleum jelly on her arm? i need to go check on olly," she asked, referencing her baby who you'd assumed had just woken up from his nap. embry nodded and she offered you an empathetic smile before she was spinning around to go back to oliver's nursery.

"alright can i see?" seth asked when he noticed how you had already begun cradling the injured arm close to your chest.

you slowly nodded, lowering your arm so both him and embry could see exactly how bad the burn was. when the three of you saw the small patch of skin was already red and swelling, you let out a loud whimper, eyes quickly filling with tears, "okay, okay, you're alright," embry was quick to soothe you, handing the first aid kit to seth so he could cup your jaw in his hands and turn your attention away from the burn, "doesn't hurt too bad, right?" he asked, slowly nodding with you when you bobbed your head.

"just a little burn, yea? promise it's nothing crazy," he reassured, pressing his lips to your forehead while seth ripped open the packet of petroleum jelly to apply to the burn.

"just gonna feel a little cool, okay? shouldn't hurt," seth said after a moment, both boys waiting for you to nod before seth was spreading a generous layer of the jelly to your injured arm.

he was right, it was definitely cool and quickly soothing the blistering feeling currently radiating across your entire forearm. embry was keeping a watchful eye on you, holding your jaw in his hands so he could make sure you wouldn't be looking at the burn and working yourself up again, "see? nice and easy," seth reassured as he got a bandaid loosely placed over the skin so the jelly wouldn't come off right away.

"there you go," embry cooed, offering you a small smile that had you letting out a heavy exhale, thankful for how quick both boys were to help relieve your anxiety, "why don't we go sit in the living room and get a show on for a bit, yea? we've got a while before everyone else comes over," embry suggested, referencing the pack's near weekly movie nights, one of which was supposed to be happening tonight.

you nodded, allowing embry to help you off the counter before seth was sliding his arm around your waist to guide you into the living room, "my brave girl," seth mused playfully, both boys smiling when you let out a small giggle at the compliment.

"you're gonna have to tell paul and jared all about it," embry added teasingly, already knowing how much both of them loved teasing you for being excessively cautious when it came to just about everything.

you were giggling again at the suggestion, smiling when embry pulled you down onto the couch. embry helped you curl into his side while seth sat down on the other side of you, spreading a blanket over your lap so you could get comfortable while you waited for the rest of the pack to arrive and hear the crazy story of how you survived (mildly) burning your arm.

#poly!sethxreaderxembry #poly!embryxreaderxseth #embry call #embry call x reader #embry call imagine #embry call blurb #embry call fluff #seth clearwater #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater imagine #seth clearwater blurb #seth clearwater fluff #imagine #blurb #fluff #twilight #the twilight saga #poly!sethxreaderxembry fluff #poly!embryxreaderxseth fluff

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