#I watched that one movie with the singer & his high school lover and was like how do I make this a story

[hellfire--cult]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Fem!Reader

wc: 19.2k (it wasn't intended to be this long)

+18, best friends to lovers, rockstar eddie, mentions of drug usage (not abuse), slight mention of steve x reader, jealousy, self-consciousness, reader feels insecure about her body, mentions of skin texture (cellulite, adiposities, stretchmarks, floppiness, sagginess, etc), smut, love making, p in v (protected), fingering, just pure absolute fluff.

Plot: You've been in love with your best friend ever since you can remember, and the hope of ever confessing vanished slowly as he signed a record deal and became a rockstar. His flings were now models, and singers... how can you even compete? Their perfect and smooth skin against your cellulite and stretchmarks? Their bodies completely perky?...But your rockstar kind of explodes with his feelings, out of jealousy, and shows you just how much you don't have to worry about that.

a/n: absolutely self indulgent. thank you to all the beautiful friends that read this, and were in the middle of me making this happen. i love you @munson-blurbs @andvys @ghost-proofbaby @pastel-pillows @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower !

always reblog, don't be lazy

ORANGE PEEL SKIN

Being best friends with a rockstar was not something you ever thought you’d be. 

But you have been friends even before his fame took off before his songs were known. Before his band got called into a prestigious studio back in L.A to record their first-ever demo album. Before his life got turned into a life of luxury and parties. A life he always didn’t believe he would get, but he worked hard to get it, manifested it, and now he is the leader of his rock band.

Corroded Coffin.

With the same three friends from High School, and he was the shining star of it all. He insisted on his bandmates, Jeff, Gareth and Grant to trust him, and they did, ending up with this record deal, and they will forever be grateful to him. 

Now, you, well, you weren’t in the band, but Eddie invited you on tour sometimes, because that’s what being his best friend got you. You often insisted for him not to waste money on your trips, plane tickets, hotel room, and pleasantries, but he never listened. He showered you with gifts whenever he could.

He got you the latest cellphone, designer bags, and clothes, some perfumes, but he never fails to buy you the one thing you like the most in every country he visits, and it’s tiny, yet he always smiles when he gives it to you. Magnets. 

You collected them in your fridge, amazed to see every place he’s been to, knowing that the boy that lived in the small trailer in Forest Hills now brings you magnets from all around the world. The boy you’ve known since you moved to Hawkins. The boy that tried to teach you DnD in the woods at the back of his trailer, but your fourteen-year-old self didn’t care for games. Yet you loved listening to him.

Because you’ve been in love with Eddie Munson ever since you can remember.

But that love is impossible, now more than ever. He never gave the indication he felt the same, and sure you two were close, mentally, emotionally, and physically. You always sit on his lap so he can play with your hair, or you two would greet each other with kisses on the cheeks, or simply hold hands as you two watch a movie together.

Now Eddie being a rockstar, well, you have no chance whatsoever. He had a fling with Miley Cyrus, and you remember it clearly. It was a simple drunk fuck, but it was enough to make you realize that you are certainly not his type. Then he hooked up with another model, and you found out because you saw it on a gossip instagram page.

Your heart broke in pieces when you saw it, knowing the boy you loved for so long so out of reach, yet so close thanks to your friendship. Even if in pain, you could not let him go, not that easily. You just loved him so much, but even you knew it had to be stopped at some point. It couldn’t go on. You will die from a heartbreak sooner or later, and you have to avoid it.

But he makes it difficult, and even more so now that he is taking a break from tour to visit Hawkins so he can see his old friends and Wayne, including you. It’s been four months since you’ve seen him in person, only talking with him through phone and video calls, but very little. He was always busy or going to parties or meeting other bands and singers.

And even if that hurts you, you will never stop loving him. Not really, not ever.

“You okay?”

Your thoughts got cut off as you shook your head to look at Chrissy who was looking at you with a worried look on her face. Your best friend knew about your feelings for the metalhead, and Chrissy has held you many times on nights where you just cried your eyes out because of every call, of every picture, of every rumor you heard of him. 

“Yeah, I am just nervous I guess.” You responded and Chrissy only nodded in a slow motion towards you. You looked around to see everyone gathered in Steve’s backyard, the sunset giving perfect orange hues as Wayne started the fire for some burgers, and Dustin was getting the cooler with beers alongside Mike. 

You couldn’t believe these boys were almost twenty. You didn’t mind that they drink some beers at this age, because who didn’t drink alcohol being below twenty-one? But did time pass by this quickly? When did it happen?

“If you say so.” Chrissy mumbled as she pressed a hand on your shoulder for reassurance. You couldn’t be more grateful for a friend like Chrissy. You really don’t know where you would be if it weren’t for her. Probably crying in every possible corner Hawkins had to give.

“Will you two stop being lazy asses and get the drinks from inside?” Steve yelled and you just rolled your eyes, while Chrissy flipped him off, Robin and Nancy laughing while putting up some balloons and preparing the music. You and your best friend walked inside to get the glasses and the sodas for the night. 

“He seriously needs to stop acting like a mother.” You groaned as you piled up the red cups in your hands, hearing Chrissy snorting behind you as she took the sodas out of the fridge.

“And yet–” And she suddenly went silent. You started hearing cheering from outside and you shut your eyes very tight, wincing slightly at the impending pain that your heart will feel at seeing him. You could already hear his electric voice, all enthusiastic and happy, and it made your heart jump three feet up.

You heard your name being called by Chrissy and it made you open your eyes so you could take a deep breath in, slowly turning around to finally look out the window to see him, your breath being knocked out in one single glance. 

His hair, tied in a bun, scruff on his chin and jaw, curls falling on the sides of his face as he hugged Dustin tightly, swirling him around while the rest of the band greeted everyone else. You didn’t want to be a bitch to the other three, but your eyes could only see Eddie. Only Eddie. A tight tank top with ripped sleeves reveals tattoos that linger across his arms and hands. Black ripped jeans with chains hanging from his waist, and a piercing on his nose, a hoop that glistened with the orange hue of the sunset.

You took a deep breath trying to calm your accelerating heart, trying to not let the blood go all the way to your cheeks, to your body, as you looked at him. It’s not like when you two talk on video calls, it cannot compare.

Chrissy cleared her throat, making you snap out, looking at him with a wild look on your face. She chuckled softly as she walked outside and you immediately heard Eddie cheerfully yell her name, and she was yelling to be careful with the bottles in her hands. 

“You can do this… You can definitely do this. Just keep pretending, everything will be okay.” This was always what you told yourself before seeing him in person. Even at school. You often wondered if you would ever stop these feelings of yours, but even if there was a possibility of them stopping, how do you reach that?

You took another deep breath, getting hold of the stack of red cups you had bought for today, and you rolled your shoulders, once, twice, and finally stepped out into the garden. His back was towards you, so it gave you time to put the cups on the table as you looked at the back of his head. He was talking with Jonathan as Dustin walked over to hand him a beer. 

You could hear his laughter, and you wanted to stay there, yet you also wanted to run away. So far away. But you couldn’t do that now, not when Dustin told Eddie something and then pointed towards you, making him turn around and his brown eyes finally caught onto yours.

Every thought of running away evaporated because that’s what Eddie does to you. He turns you into putty, into his slave, into a submissive prey that will do whatever he commands. Just with him looking at you, and flashing a smile your way as his eyes light up with yours. A smile was immediately drawn to your lips, not pretending, because you loved him, and you didn’t have to pretend to be happy to see him.

Because you were. Extremely so.

He handed the beer to Dustin in a quick manner as he started rushing towards you, making your legs work as well, meeting him halfway in order for his arms to open wide as his smile worked all the way up, face lighting up as he sees you, and you just can’t help the extreme happiness that invades you and fills you the moment he wraps his arms around your frame.

His perfume, his scent, the smell of the shampoo of his hair, everything was engulfing you as well as his hands pressing all over your back, while your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your nose digging into the crook of his neck. He chuckles when he feels your breath on his skin, and you are unaware of the shiver that runs through his spine at the feel of it.

He pulled away with a grin on his face, and that’s when he finally took notice of how you had a different hair color, you two had talked through video call two weeks ago, so it was a very recent change. He straightened up to grab hold of one strand as he raised a playful eyebrow up.

“A new style, Kitty?” 

That damn nickname. It stuck to you when Eddie and you had a school show back in middle school, and he was spared from acting, but you were disguised as a black cat. He made fun of you, of course, but that’s what made you two grow close to one another. 

You fought the heat that was rising up on your cheeks as you giggled and looked down to the floor, giving him a short nod.

“Yeah, wanted to try something new.” He gave a nod to you and you raised your head up to look back to his eyes once more. He was looking at you with fondness as if you were the only light in his path at the moment.

“You look beautiful.”

It wasn’t the first time Eddie complimented you, but it wasn’t easier each time he did it. Your heart always leaped at his comments, always raising a little bit of hope inside of you that you didn’t know if it was healthy or not. He was just your best friend, and your fantasies are just that. Fantasies.

“T-Thanks Eds… I hope this whole rockstar career didn’t make you a wuss with alcohol.” You tried to lighten the moment and it worked as he laughed wholeheartedly at you, shaking his head.

“You are not going to beat me at chugging beer. Last time you almost puked!”

“We’ll see.”

You did not win. You just wanted to see him have fun and laugh as the foam of the beer got out of your nose as you choked on the drink. 

It was a nice night, warm, and the buzz of the alcohol was not too great, just enough to feel funny but conscious. It was nice having Eddie here, and you could notice it around the whole group. Dustin couldn’t stop nerding with him about DnD, and Robin was telling him about how she managed to get Chrissy on a date.

You were laughing with Mike as he explained to you how Nancy almost caught him and Will in the closet and you couldn’t help but wince because you still saw these two boys as little teenagers, and it was weird imagining them in this situation. 

But it seems someone was bored.

“Now that we are older, can you PLEASE play Never Have I ever with us!?” Everyone’s gazes turned to the redhead that had the beer in her hand, moving it from side to side and everyone couldn’t help but burst out in laughter because ever since these kids tried alcohol at the age of fifteen, they’ve been trying to play these games with all the grown-ups. 

“Okay, you guys are old enough. I don’t want any ews, or ahs, okay?” Steve replied and Dustin rolled his eyes at him.

“Same goes for you, Steve.”

And yeah, he was right, because it was going to be weird listening to these kids talk about their experiences with all of you. But whatever, Eddie doesn’t come often, might as well have fun with it.

You all sat around, and you were in between Chrissy and Jonathan while Eddie sat at front in between Robin and Dustin. Max cleared her throat, signaling that she was about to start, and all of you tried to stop the giggling at the whole situation.

“I’ll start. Never have I ever… kissed someone of the same sex.” 

Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Lucas, and you didn’t drink. Everyone else did. You knew Eddie had kissed guys before, experimenting. The one that everyone turned to look at though, was Steve.

“Seriously Harrington?” Eddie asked, completely surprised and you snorted into your beer as Steve looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“What? I never had the curiosity.” Eddie shrugged and took a sip of his beer as Robin came next.

“Okay, okay… Never have I ever… done harder drugs than weed.”

“Low blow Buckley.” Eddie said as he took a sip of his drink, Jonathan followed right behind, making Will look at him with his mouth wide open.

“What!?” Will yelled at his brother, who only laughed as he wiped his mouth.

“My best friend is Argyle, what do you expect?” And Will only rolled his eyes as Mike chuckled and patted his boyfriend’s shoulder to calm him down. You cleared your throat as you knew that Eddie had tried many things thanks to the connections he now has with the famous environment he is in. 

You remember when he once video-called you telling you he felt like shit because he took two lines of coke for the very first time. One would think that an ex-dealer would have tried stronger things, but not Eddie. He never was fond of them, yet, he felt pressured to do so that night.

“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever… puked all over a friend.” And the bastard wiggled his eyebrows your way, and you cussed at him on the low, taking a sip of your drink, as well as Robin with an embarrassed look on her face while Steve winced in disgust.

“Not fair Eddie.” You whined at him and he could only laugh. It was the first time you’d ever gotten drunk, and it took two glasses of fireball and coke for you to barf all over your best friend as he tried to get you out of the party. It was humiliating, yet Eddie held you tight and reassured you that everything was okay.

He took care of you the whole morning afterwards, telling your mom that you crashed at his place because you were tired, even if his place and yours were five minutes away. 

“My turn.” Dustin said with a smug look on his face and Steve took a sharp intake of breath, and you could only groan. “I didn’t even say anything.”

“C’mon Henderson, what do you want to know?” Chrissy laughed as she saw Robin rolling her eyes at her but with a small smile on her lips. Dustin smirked and straightened up.

“Never have I ever slept with anyone in this circle.”

Will and Mike groaned as they took sips of their own drinks, same as Max as she flipped Dustin off and Lucas laughing while shaking his head. Jonathan and Nancy also took sips of their drinks, Steve, as well, Robin and Chrissy…

And you.

Causing everyone to look at you in disbelief.

“What?” Your best friend said with a mocking laugh, thinking you were lying, but another person winced in the circle as Dustin let out a victorious laugh, raising his fist up with a pump.

“I FUCKING KNEW IT!” 

“Dustin.” You groaned as you clenched your eyes tightly and Dustin shook his head, while everyone looked at him.

“No, I was right, and you two fucking lied about it!” He screamed and Eddie was looking back and forth between you and Dustin, not knowing what was going on.

“You two?” Jonathan asked and then, everyone’s eyes turned to one of the single males in the group who had his hand running in his hair with an exasperated sigh.

“Yeah Dustin, we lied.” Steve finally responded. 

Everyone, except for Dustin remained silent as the curly-headed guy let out a scoff with a shake of his head.

“And you thought I wouldn’t figure it out.” He said with a smug look on his face and you couldn’t even look up from embarrassment, but a voice made you snap out to finally make you talk.

“Kitty?” 

Shit.

“When did this happen?” Robin asked in disbelief and you sighed, finally looking up from your glass, trying to not look at your best friend who was piercing his gaze through your skull, making a shiver run down your spine.

“A month ago.” Everyone almost screamed at the confession and you sighed with a roll of your eyes.

“HOW!?” Mike now asked and Steve cleared his throat, a chuckle then escaping his mouth.

“We were drunk… blasted off drunk.” Eddie’s mouth was on the floor right now, and you could see the betrayal that was slowly plastering on his face, making you wince inwardly. You didn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him, and now he knew, and you felt the lump of guilt forming inside your throat and guts.

“Wait, was it after the barbeque?” Will asked this time and Dustin chuckled with a nod to his head, making you and Steve glare at him.

“Yep. I forgot my phone, and imagine my surprise when I heard moaning throughout the house and her car was still parked outside.” Everyone except for three people gasped at the situation, making Dustin proud of his discovery. “Steve told me it was another girl while she slept in his parent’s bed.”

“It was believable.” Steve retorted, making you scoff at that.

“It was fucking dumb Steve.” At your response, everyone’s heads snapped at you while Steve looked at you with an offended frown on his eyebrows.

“It wasn’t! He is just too nosy! And let me remind you, you jumped my bones first.” Gasps and whistles were now heard in your circle of friends as your mouth dropped to the floor, looking at Steve with anger in your face.

“I did not! You were the one who started it!” And to be honest, you could hardly remember that night, you were depressed and angry, and Steve was pent up. That’s all it was. 

“Okay, I don’t remember who did, we’ll just say we are both to blame.” Steve raised his cup up towards you with a sheepish smile on his face, making you roll your own, but a smile was on your lips as you raised your cup as well and took a sip from it. 

“Well, that’s something I didn’t know.” You almost choked as you looked towards your best friend after the confession you blurted out. He had a piercing gaze towards your way, a glare, anger behind his eyes with his arms crossed over his chest. The air immediately tensed and you weren’t the only one who felt it. 

Everyone else was looking somewhere else than in between the two of you. You knew you were in the wrong for not telling him anything, but you really didn’t want him to know about it. It was a one-time thing that would never happen again, so you really didn’t see the need to do so.

Steve also noticed the tense air, clearing his throat to talk once more.

“Okay, my turn, right?”

 And the game went on, but not with the same cheery atmosphere as before. You were quiet, and Eddie was angry, passing on his turn whenever he had to say something. You barely included yourself in the game, your mind racing with nervousness and guilt from not telling your best friend you slept with Steve. 

Once everyone finally decided the night was done, you helped Robin and Chrissy try to tidy up Steve’s kitchen the best you could. You didn’t want to face Eddie, the alcohol in your system was long gone thanks to the dread of facing him alone at some point in the week. You were washing the cups as Robin and Chrissy started giggling and you sent them a wink as they rushed out and up the stairs to one of Steve’s rooms.

“So they left you on cleaning duty.” Steve entered the kitchen with empty bottles with a groan as he threw them in the trash. You giggled and shrugged, finishing to wash the last cup.

“They are in their honeymoon phase, let them be.” You turned off the water from the sink as you felt Steve stand next to you with his arms over his chest.

“But chicks stain sheets, and I really don’t want to hear them having sex. Why can’t they go to one of their houses?” You rolled your eyes as you dried your hands with one of the hand towels that was hanging from the oven’s handle. 

“Put some headphones on, suck it up like a man.” You giggled and he followed with a chuckle only for the two of you to be interrupted by a clear of throat and some keys jingling.

“Sorry to interrupt. Let’s go home.” Eddie was leaning against the door frame of the kitchen, swinging his keys around his middle finger with a piercing gaze thrown your way. You looked at him in complete confusion, tilting your head.

“I– I came with my car–” 

“Let’s go home.” It was stern, angry, and fed up. It was a command. He wanted to talk, and you knew that. Your heart hammered in your chest as you sighed, giving Steve a look and he gave you a reassuring nod with a worried frown. 

“You’ll pick up your car tomorrow.” The brown-haired man said as the rockstar rolled his eyes, walking out of the kitchen. You gave Steve one last look before following Eddie out and then towards the front door.

The black matte Jeep Wrangler standing at the front in all of its glory, and it sometimes makes you miss his old van. The one the both of you smoked weed in between school periods, after school, and on the weekends. The one where you laid at the top to star gaze, completely high off your minds. 

You heard a click, snapping you out as you saw him lighting a cigarette while walking, opening the passenger’s door for you, but not waiting for you to get in. He rounded the car to go into the driver’s seat, making you gulp thanks to your nervousness, not knowing where the night was headed. 

You slowly got inside the car, closed the door, and buckled your seatbelt properly, trying to keep your heart out of your throat as it threatened to come out. His eyes were unreadable as they stared forward, making the engine of the car roar as he rolled the window down for the smoke to leave the interior. 

And then, it was quiet. Not even music was on.

He was driving, one hand gripped on the wheel while the other stuck out of the window with the cigarette in between his fingers. You didn’t know where to look or what to do as you played with your fingers on top of your lap, looking out the window. 

What were you supposed to say? Should you wait for him to say something? Or is he waiting for you? Is he waiting for a sign so he can start talking? You don’t understand why the air is so tense between the two of you, it’s not like you murdered someone, it was just–

What–

“Hang on, are you not taking me home?” You asked as you looked at the exit that would take you to your apartment complex. You received no response, making you look at him who was still looking ahead of the road, flicking the cigarette out the window as his other one clenched onto the wheel. 

You knew where he was taking you, back to his apartment in Indianapolis. It wasn’t a long ride, but it was half an hour away, meaning you would have to stay silent for the whole ride, and it was making your gut turn uncomfortably. 

Eddie and you never fought, and you for sure never received this kind of treatment from him. The only time you can remember something like this happened, was back in middle school when you didn’t tell him you had your first kiss with Richard Pax. It was in spin the bottle, and you were embarrassed about it. 

He didn’t talk to you for a whole week until he saw you crying and understood that you were just ashamed of it, and you couldn’t even face Richard for how nervous you were. Eddie apologized to you, and held your hand afterwards, telling you to not consider that your first kiss, that it should be special and one you wanted.

You could feel your phone pinging, and you looked down to see Steve messaging you if you were okay, that Eddie didn’t look happy at all. You sighed as you opened your messages to type a reply back only to get a scoff from your partner inside the car.

“You’re with me right now, at least put the phone down.” Your eyebrows pinched together at that answer, looking at him as anger started rising up inside of you.

“You’re not even talking to me, you have no right to ask anything from me right now.” 

“Mmm.”

The air was now filled with anger, you could feel it because you were the one enraged now. Who did he think he was? Acting pissed just cause you didn’t tell him one thing? You were betting he didn’t tell you many things that he does at the parties he attends or the tours he does with his bands. 

Hypocrite. 

You texted Steve back, aiming the screen away from Eddie’s gaze.

And that’s how the thirty minutes passed by till Eddie finally got the jeep inside the underground parking lot of his building. You unbuckle your seatbelt, stepping out of the car at the same time Eddie did. The doors slamming echoed all over the immense space as Eddie headed towards the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. 

You were angry, nervous, anxious, confused, not understanding why Eddie was acting this way at all. You couldn’t even look at him as the elevator finally reached the floor, and he got in. You hesitated for a few seconds, but it was no use as he held the doors open with his broad hand.

You stepped in, and he pressed his floor, the metal doors closing in front of you. The small space was suffocating you. You could hear his angry and heavy breathing. Maybe you can play it off with a joke or something. Make the air a little lighter, trying to make the tense moment go away, but the distant look in his eyes made you think twice about that. 

You were fidgeting in your place with your purse in your hands. The elevator kept going up until it reached the penthouse at the top. It was over the top, but someone who didn’t have anything growing up, wants the best of the best when he has the opportunity to do so. So Eddie wanted the best of the building of course.

The elevator doors opened and he walked out first, walking towards the double doors of his home, typing in the password in his security lock. You heard the beeping of the numbers being punched in, and you groaned, walking out of the elevator as he opened the front door of his home.

You walked in right after him, taking in the scent of his cologne as he walked further in. You closed the door behind you and it automatically locked in place. It wasn’t that big of a penthouse, not really, and he filled it with his own stuff, his mugs, his records, his guitars. It was Eddie, even if it’s not the trailer back at Hawkins.

You waited for him to talk, only to see him walking away towards the hallway, going towards his bedroom, making you frown in anger. You followed him, stomping next to the couch where you dropped your purse, not caring for it anymore.

He was in front of his king-sized bed with black covers, taking his jacket off, not giving you a second glance. You clenched your jaw at how immature he was, all because you didn’t tell him one thing in your life. Just one.

“Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you going to keep being a little child?” His mouth dropped at your words as if he couldn’t believe you were talking to him that way. He slowly looked up at you, standing in the doorway of his room with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Me? Why don’t you talk sweetheart? Why didn’t you tell me about you and Stevie?” And your anger started bubbling up again. 

“Why does it matter!? I was drunk! And it was a while ago!” You answered as you waved your arms around in exclamation. 

“It matters cause you are my best friend, and you didn’t tell me you slept with one of our friends! It’s important shit!” Okay, you could see a little bit as to why he would be mad at you. The difference as to why you would not get mad at him for not telling you stuff like this, was because you would end up hurt if he did.

But he doesn’t end up hurt, because he doesn’t feel the same as you do.

“Eddie–”

“And with Steve! Why the fuck did it have to be him!?” Now this part, you didn’t understand.

“Why does it matter if it was with Steve?” He was pacing now, and you couldn’t help but feel confused by his attitude. Why is he so agitated over this? You didn’t tell him you slept with Steve, while drunk off your mind, big deal. He let out a scoff as his hands ran through his face, completely pissed, his nose flaring as he breathed heavily.

“Fuck Kitty, it’s not fucking fair!” You could see his hands shaking as he grunted at each step, and you were now worried. Did you do something you didn’t have to do? Was there something you didn’t know about Eddie and Steve? Some kind of pact or something of the sort? Did you mess up the friendship?

“What’s not fair!? Eddie, you are not making any fucking sense, and–” Your words were cut off as two strong hands held onto your cheeks, and your best friend’s face was inches away from you as he talked through his teeth.

“It is not fair he got to have you like that. It is not fair he had the chance of having you first. It is not fair he got what I’ve been wanting, for fucking years.”

And your words were knocked out of your lungs, as well as your air. 

There was no way he said that.

Because why would he?

But he just did, didn’t he? You weren’t deaf, you heard it–

“What?” Your voice was so small, and Eddie noticed, wincing slightly as he pulled away from you, letting go of your face and you immediately realized you spoke, and that he might have taken it as rejection but– what is going on?

You were frozen in your place, looking at how he backed away, running his hands all over his face as he started pacing back and forth, not even glancing at you as he took a few breaths in. You on the other hand, felt your heart in your throat, beating constantly, furiously, feeling as if you were going to pop a vein here and there for how strong you felt the pumping of your own blood course through your whole body.

You saw how he started to slow down his pacing, standing in one place, a meter or two away from you, and his eyes found yours. You could feel fear, sadness, and embarrassment in those eyes, all in one place, in those irises. 

“I– I really didn’t want to do this… this way…” He scoffed at his own words and shook his head with a fake chuckle on his lips. “Fuck, I didn’t even know I was ever going to do this.”

You were just speechless, feeling your eyes burning because it all led to what is obvious… But he never showed it in his life, so you don’t understand, it is not processing in your head as it should.

“Do… what?” It was a choked whisper, the best one you could master at this moment because your throat was just closed up, non-working. Your brain was a jumbled mess as it tried to put a puzzle together that you never thought was there to begin with.

His eyes darted towards you and then out the window as he licked his lips, thinking about his next words carefully. 

“You– You are my best friend… The fear of losing you is greater than any other feeling I hold inside.” He was struggling, you noticed the nervousness, the twitching of the tip of his fingers as he scratched his cheek.

“You won’t–”

“You can’t say I won’t lose you. I say these three words, and I won’t be able to go back, and you won’t be able to either. I’ve been holding them back for ten years, I can keep going if it means I get to keep you.” 

Three words. Three. Are those the same three words you hold dear? Those three words you’ve been fighting against for so many years? Three simple words but yet that can cause so much pain if you don’t receive them back? 

Could it be? 

Your mouth opened and closed, and you felt a tear rolling down your cheek, it was inevitable, and you saw how Eddie’s shoulder slumped down, his eyebrows knitting together in the middle in a frown. Sadness.

You had to speak. You have to fight the thrumming of your heart and the warning signs your brain is throwing your way to stop you. But Eddie and you already share one feeling. Fear. So what if there are other feelings you both share? Equal feelings?

“S-Say those words…” You pushed, you needed to make sure, you needed to hear them, you needed that happiness you never thought you would get with him. He shook his head once and twice, biting the inside of his cheek.

“No. I won’t. I can’t lose you Kitty… I can’t.” Your heart was ablaze because of nerves, of impatience, and of hope. You took a shaky breath in, your fist clenching and unclenching in order to hold back your own words.

“I– Please say them…” And as Eddie looked at you, you could see how his features softened and relaxed into a surprised expression, as if looking at you let him solve a riddle in his head. His adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he looked at you, swallowing, and you felt your bottom lip trembling, your eyes burning, your body almost shaking with anticipation.

You saw how his chest moved up and down in a quick manner, giving away how heavy his breathing turned. Your eyes were connected to his, trying to let him know, trying to make him have that courage to make the first step you are not confident enough to take. And then his shoulders relaxed, his features doing the exact same, and as he looked at you with glossy eyes, he opened his mouth to finally take the leap.

“I love you.” 

Silence overtook the two of you as the words sank. He loves you, and not as a friend. He loves you as a woman. He loves you as a partner. He loves you as much as you love him. He loves you. He loves you.

A sob ripped from your chest and you slammed your hand on your mouth, feeling new tears streaming down your face, but a smile was hiding behind your palm as you choked on another sob. Eddie’s face turned into a worried one as he took a step towards you, his hands ready to reach out for you and then you started giggling.

You couldn’t believe this. Were you that blind? Were you this stupid? Or maybe it was the two of you? Why were you the only one to blame when he also held these feelings for so long? You’re best friends for a reason, and this is the greatest example of it all. Pining for eachother since teenagers, evolving into love, and never giving any hints of it to one another. Not even flirty compliments, or insinuations.

You couldn’t help yourself as you kept giggling, eyes closed as one hand was over your mouth while the other gripped your stomach. Eddie was absolutely worried now, thinking you were losing your mind. All these years, you two could have done something about your feelings, but your insecurities fucked up your brains because, if it hadn’t, maybe one of you would have noticed something.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You yelled out loud, still laughing and Eddie only frowned as he straightened up, his arms crossing over his chest.

“Nice to know my love for you is stupid.” That made you stop laughing, only to look at his pissed-off frown and for you to burst into laughter again. The tears never stopped coming down, feeling your heart flying into the sky as you also felt the need to bang your head against a wall, repeatedly.

“I– I promise it’s not that!” You were trying to calm down, taking deep breaths in and out as you kept watching him. He wasn’t laughing, just staring at you with a hint of sadness, anger, and confusion. All together, which only prompted you to snort, another laugh threatening to come out. You raised your hand up to stop Eddie from lashing out. “Sorry!”

“Sorry? I confess my love to you and you laugh in my face. Do you even know how hurtful and disrespectful that is?” You could feel his words holding some truth, but you knew he was also finding the situation kind of comical. You waved your hands in front of you, small giggles escaping you still.

“You don’t understand, I can’t believe we are this stupid.” You snorted at the word and Eddie’s arms uncrossed, tilting his head to the side in wonder, an eyebrow raised up in question.

“Why are we stupid?” And you couldn’t help but start laughing again as new tears rolled down your cheeks, happiness just exploding from every part of your body.

“I mean, we were in love with eachother all these years, and we never knew? We really are fucking stupid Eds!” Your giggles stopped after those words came out of your mouth. Your eyes slowly found his as a ringing in your ears started being really loud, almost hurting you. His eyes were wide, incredulous, his arms dangling on the sides of his body.

“You– You’re in love with me?” His mouth was agape, staring at you with a perplexed expression as you felt your heart about to combust, only for him to start cracking up as well, slamming his hands over his face, his laughter bouncing on every wall of the room, and you couldn’t help but join him in it.

You both now know you are idiots, absolute fucking morons and you cannot believe you wasted all this time being only friends when you could have been more. The feelings were one and the same. The jealousy. The anger. The hopelessness. The yearning. The happiness. The need. The love. 

He let his hands drop from his face, a last shake of his head as he looked back at you. Your giggles slowly stopped, and you wiped the tears away from your eyes. This was real now. This was happening for you, for him, for your future. He took a step forward and the nerves were back all together. 

“Can’t believe we didn’t see it at all… I– honestly didn’t think I would ever have a chance after you signed that contract Eds…” You averted your gaze towards the floor as you took various breaths in, trying to control yourself again, center your mind back into reality, and push the shock away. He sighed at that, shaking his head once more even if you didn’t see him.

“I never thought I had a chance. I just thought and still think you are way too good for me sweetheart…” He cleared his throat as you frowned at that and looked up at him to hear him better. “I honestly… I had a bit of hope when I signed the contract. I thought I would finally be– good for you.” 

Your heart stopped and sunk into a deep sea, going to the darkest bits. Eddie felt that way with you? That he wasn’t good enough for you? That he had to be someone else in order to feel that he had a chance with you?

“Ed–Eddie, I didn’t care for that… I still don’t– I thought that you were the one out of reach… I– What chance would I have had with a rockstar that–” You didn’t want to finish that phrase. It was too embarrassing, but how could you not? How could you not compare yourself to all the women Eddie had after signing that contract? The models, the singers, the influencers… It was impossible not to do so.

He seemed to realize the doubt on your face because his features softened as he took a step closer to you, the tips of your shoes touching as he stood right before you. He scratched his cheek as he tried to find the next words.

“Well… we aren’t out of reach anymore… are we?” And your eyes found his, your heart in your throat as he licked his lips and you knew what was supposed to happen now. But–

“What if it’s weird?” He blinked two times before tilting his head and you wanted to drown in embarrassment.

“What would be weird?” His voice was a tone lower than before and it made you tremble a little, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Well– We know eachother since we were ten… What if you find it weird to kiss me?” And it almost looked like Eddie could not believe what you were saying. 

“Sweetheart… I’ve been dying to kiss you since I can even remember.” You couldn’t help but feel your cheeks burn up, looking down with a small smile on your face. He bit his bottom lip and cleared his throat, making you look up at him once more. “We’ll just see where it goes, how about that?”

You were afraid of that because what if it really happened that he would back out cause he felt it too weird for him? Or what if you weren’t of his expectations? What if you let him down? But you would never know unless– 

“Okay…” The word ‘nervous’ runs a little short of what you were feeling. You had your own expectations of this moment, but you knew he would fill every single one of them and exceed them. Now for you? You weren’t so sure. 

“Trust me Kitty…” He gave you a nervous, yet charming smile as he finally invaded your space and leaned. You closed your eyes and waited, feeling your whole body about to collapse. You expected his lips on your lips, but you felt them on your cheek. You opened your eyes with confusion plastered in them to see Eddie grinning.

“Eds…?”

“Weird?” You giggled at that, feeling your nerves slowly leaving you.

“Nope.” He smiled as he guided his lips towards your other cheek, placing another kiss there. You two have shared kisses on the face before. Cheeks, foreheads, nose… All innocent, and now, the kisses had a completely different meaning.

“How about that?” You rolled your eyes at him and shook your head, and your heart was already thrumming with impatience instead of nerves. His smile faltered a bit but it never left as he finally leaned towards your lips. You took a deep breath in, closing your eyes at the same time he closed his. 

And finally, your lips touched for the very first time.

It was small, nervous, testing, but it still sent an electric shock down both of your bodies. Simultaneously. Your lips fit perfectly against his, and it felt right. It felt so right. He pulled away too soon, but his lips hovered over yours as he opened his eyes to look at you. You looked at him through your lashes.

“Not weird…” You mumbled and he only hummed, his own heart exploding. He tilted his head to the other side and pressed his lips against yours again, this time a little firmer than before. You felt your body craving to wrap itself around him, but you two were testing this new development. You had to be patient, but from the looks of it, it seemed Eddie was also enjoying it like you were.

And there was no lie in that because Eddie felt like he was combusting from how much he felt his body flush. He felt sweat on his fingertips and he just wanted to hold you in his arms, but just like yourself, he needed your green light. He slowly pulled away from that peck, a soft smack being heard in the room as you two looked at eachother again.

“Weird?” He asked in a whisper, and you shook your head desperately as you felt your eyes becoming glossy with need as you looked at him. 

And he dove in. This kiss was harder, deeper, and his hands finally reached out to hold your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded by raising your arms in order to wrap them around his neck, flushing your chest against his, and finally, your lips moved against eachother’s, and it felt magical. 

It felt like that puzzle piece you thought you would never find, but it was hidden in a very small corner, underneath a carpet. His arms wrapped around you, one palm on the small of your back and the other right in the middle. You felt how hot your body was getting but you couldn’t stop yourself, needing more and more from him.

He deepened the kiss even more, pressing you into him, wanting to feel more of you. Your heads moved from side to side, and he was going to be greedy and ask for more. His tongue darted out to lick your bottom lip, making your heart jump and a small gasp escaped your throat, but you opened your mouth to welcome him in.

And you two sighed in pleasure as your tongues clashed together, having a taste of eachother for the first time. You tasted like strawberries and beer thanks to your lipgloss, mints, and the alcohol you two had earlier in the night. He tasted like you always imagined he would. Tobacco, and this kind of minty taste that must be from the flavor sphere inside the filters of his cigarettes. Beer was also mixed in, and one of your hands couldn’t help but scratch the back of his neck for more grip, making him groan into the kiss.

You were surprised by the noise, but a moan escaped your mouth and into his as your breasts rubbed against his chest and his tongue danced with yours. You felt yourself sweating with anticipation, the track of time disappearing as you two melted more and more into eachother, but air was soon needed and you two broke apart, panting onto one another’s lips. His eyes were staring into yours and he gulped as he spoke again.

“Told you. Not weird.” He sounded breathless, and you could feel his heart thrumming in his chest, in fact, you didn’t even know if it was yours. You chased his lips and gave him a soft peck, your eyes half-lidded in bliss. He gave you a cheeky smile as he talked in a low voice. “Already can’t get enough of me Kitty?”

You were flustered, burning, but you wanted to show him how much you wanted him. So you kissed him again, deep, long, and slow. It was loving and filled with the emotions you wanted to shower him with for the past ten years. You pulled away with a small smile on your face as he stared at you, a little taken aback.

“Never going to get enough of you.” And you could see your best friend, this insane rockstar, blushing a deep red on his cheeks and you couldn’t help but giggle. “You’re red!”

His cheeks lose the color, just slightly, and his eyes squint at you, annoyance displayed in his features. Your smile fell down and before you could even speak, he bent down slightly in order to hook his arm around your waist and throw you over his shoulder as he stood up again. You screamed at that movement, your legs flailing a little bit as he walked towards his room.

“Cocky little shit.” He chuckled and in just one minute you were facing the floor, the other you were facing the ceiling as his mattress hit your back, making you bounce slightly. You felt butterflies flying all around inside your stomach as you raised yourself on your elbows in order to look at him.

His eyes were dark as he scanned your body, the dress you were wearing hitched up a bit on the middle of your thighs and before you could say anything, he leaned forward to help you take your sandals off. His fingers grazed your ankles and a shiver ran from your calf to the top of your head. You saw how he took each boot off with the help of the tips on the heels. He looked at you and then finally got on the bed, crawling on all fours on top of you, prompting you to lean back onto the bed.

Your breathing was fast as you looked up at him. Those brown eyes that have been with you since kids, and now, those eyes were looking at you with hunger, but was it really new? He leaned his body down, a bit closer, still not wanting to press his chest nor hips against yours.

“Kitty… We don’t have to do anything–” And you cut him off there with a shake of your head. He might have gotten the wrong idea because of your possible shocked facial expression.

“No, no… I– I want to…” He tilted his head with doubt as he inspected your face which only became hotter and hotter at the intense stare.

“You don’t sound too sure. We don’t have to do this now–”

“Eddie, I want to… God, I want to– I mean, have you seen you? I have a hidden maxi-size poster of your half-naked rolling stone cover just because your pelvis showed…” He snorted at your bluntness but seriously, it was the hottest you’ve seen Eddie look. The V shape with the happy trail going downwards, just where the edge of the cover ended was enough to make you have so many fantasies in the lapse of a minute.

“Alright. Good to know… So, is it just nerves? Cause, I am nervous too… I mean, it’s you… I built this up in my head a thousand times and it’s finally here and honestly? I am kind of afraid of busting in my pants.” You giggled at that, wholeheartedly too and he just kept smiling at you, brushing some hair off your face. You stopped laughing and gulped as shame crept all over your body.

You can trust him. It’s Eddie, and he loves you… He will understand you, there’s no need to be scared. The nervousness and anxiety of laying yourself out there to him didn’t calm itself down though, but you had to reassure him that it wasn’t him at all, nor the fear of it being weird.

“I– I just… do you mind… having the lights off?”

And that seemed to throw Eddie back. His eyebrows came to the middle in a confused frown as he looked down at you, trying to understand you. You looked away from him and you felt your eyes glossing over as more embarrassment came over your body.

“Kitty, I– Why do you want them off?” He will respect you, always, but he wants the answer out of your lips to make sure he hadn’t done anything to make you think he didn’t think you were at least pretty, but he always complimented you. Obviously, friendly compliments, not telling you the actual amount of things he wanted to say to you.

“Um… I– Well… um… I am different from all the– flings you had in the past two years…” You couldn’t look at him. You sounded so stupid, so little, but you had to be honest with him. You don’t want to have a terrified look on your face just because you pushed yourself to do it with the lights on. Eddie blinked a few times, his head shaking softly.

“Come again?” You cleared your throat, feeling as if it were closing up slowly. You have no smooth skin or toned body.

Adiposities, cellulite, stretchmarks, stretched skin, textured in every place you could look at. 

“I’m… nothing like those girls– those bodies, I don’t–” You didn’t want him to look at your body. You aren’t insecure, not always… but you know who Eddie slept with, and the insecurity with him is on another kind of level.

Eddie was stunned as he looked down at you. You compared yourself… and maybe all this time you had been doing so, and he never noticed. Were you hurting in some kind of way? Was he the reason you weren’t confident enough to talk to him about your feelings towards him? 

You gulped as you looked at him when you didn’t receive any answer. He seemed concerned, deep in thought, and you wondered if you had already driven him away with just your mere words. You opened your mouth to talk but he was faster.

“You think you are inferior to them?” His eyes were filled with confusion and some type of sadness, making you frown with worry, but he kept talking before you could even ask. “Sweetheart… Kitty, oh my god…”

You blinked a few times, trying to understand his facial expressions that were changing every second. From angry, to confused, to incredulous, to sad… you weren’t understanding what was going through his head.

“What is it?”

“What is it? Fuck… I don’t want to be blunt, but I feel like if I’m not you won’t understand one single bit of what’s going on in my head so…” He cleared his throat as a blush spread on his cheeks while looking down at you. “You have no idea how many times I popped a boner with you.”

That was not something you expected to hear, not right now, and certainly not from him.

“What?” He groaned followed by a sigh as he kept hovering over your body. You could feel the heat of his body radiating towards yours, and you could feel your blood rushing to your face, or probably your head.

“What I said. I popped a boner many times, even when we were at your house watching Sleepaway Camp and you had those pajamas on that had kittens all over… I covered my crotch with a pillow.” He chuckled to hide his nervousness but your mind was still trying to work out what he was saying.

“I– Pajamas?” He looked into your eyes and he gave you one slow nod.

“And don’t let me get started on the pool parties. One piece, two piece… Even when you didn’t even take anything off, and fuck– This sundress? I had to tuck myself when a little bit of wind helped me see the back of your thighs… Just the back of your thighs darling!” He was exasperated now, his eyes wild as he rambled but your mind had shut off.

You? You got him worked up? Today? And before? Even when in the most clothed situations? He looked your way? 

“Really…?” Your voice came out smaller than what you intended but you couldn’t help it. You were feeling emotional, this revelation trying to sit in your brain as it tried to push the possibility of Eddie actually being attracted to you after the women he’s been with away. His eyes softened and he moved a hand towards your cheek to caress it in a soft manner.

“Really. You drive me absolutely insane…” His eyes turned slightly darker and you noticed the air around the two of you change, shift into something that made you feel a little light-headed. “Will you let me show you just how insane you make me?”

And your body went limp at his question, a hunger in the eyes of your best friend that you never thought would ever be directed to you. 

But maybe those eyes were always there, just not when you were looking. Glances he stole at you at prom after picking you up himself and going together. His eyes scanning your body when you appeared in a long shimmery dress for one of his first award shows, something that made people speculate you two were dating, but then the paparazzis did their job to dismiss that. 

Feelings mixed with pure desire and lust that felt wrong to even experience. He watched you become a woman right before his own eyes, growing up together, graduating together after two failed attempts on Eddie’s part, and even with the different future paths, you a veterinarian and he a rockstar, you never lost touch.

But now… now there is no need to feel guilt. No restraints because the line was already crossed.

So you gave him a slow nod despite the nervous look on your face. Is there a possibility for Eddie to want you just as much as he says he does? More than Megan Fox? Than that chick from that rock band that opened his shows and that is exactly like him and a better match? How is there even a chance?

Your thoughts came to a halt as you felt his face lowering in order to take your lips with his, your mind short circuiting as the kiss wasn’t shy at all like the previous one. It was instantly deep, passionate, and desperate. Teeth almost knocking with eachother as your heads moved from side to side, your arms wrapping around his shoulders wanting to feel him closer.

He chuckled into the kiss, and he pulled away with a soft smack of the lips, a confused whimper escaping your lips to then gasping when his head ducked even further and his kiss was now on your neck, on your pulse point. 

“You have no idea how much I have wanted to mark you. All the guys that flirted with you, or were your hookups… I just wanted to mark your neck so that they would back off.” He mumbled on your neck and your eyes widened at that, your thighs rubbing against eachother below him for some friction.

And you would be lying if you didn’t think of doing the same. The roaring of the word ‘MINE’ whenever a girl got close to Eddie back in school was insanely big inside your head. But as the years went by, that voice only got softer, slower, until he told you the first fling he had after the contract was signed. That voice said a few last words before disappearing, ‘Maybe he is not mine, and never will be.’.

But now– It’s back, and stronger than ever.

“Then mark me Eds… But–” And it was risky, but you wanted it, you needed it, you needed everyone, absolutely everyone to know he is yours. “Only if you let me mark you back.”

And his kisses stopped, surprised by your boldness, the jeans straining a little more to the point of it being almost painful. Is he going to get yelled at by Joyce and Wayne? His two managers? Most likely. Does he care? Not a fucking chance. Not now, not ever. A smile formed on his lips as he mumbled against your skin.

“Deal.” And his lips pressed again against your pulse point. You were afraid of your sounds, but a moan almost got out when his lips pressed pecks until you felt him sucking on your skin. He was going to make sure to brand you as his. For real. His breath was heavy as he inhaled with his nose, loving the taste of you and how your nails dug into his nape and the other pair onto his shoulder.

He repeated it, three times to be exact, leaving you with deep red marks that went downwards a bit. He pulled away to look at his art, a smile on his lips as he saw how dazed you already looked as you tried to level your breathing back to a normal pace. You looked beautiful like this, and he was opening his mouth in order to ask if you were ready to keep going, but you broke silence first with a giggle.

“It tickled.” His heart only clenched a bit more at you, thinking that you couldn’t look cuter, or more endearing than you were now, but you always surprise him, don’t you? He smirked as he leaned forward, nose touching with yours, making your giggles stop completely.

“Can you stop being adorable for a second? I’m trying to be sexy here.” You really didn’t know if you had a face anymore because you just felt it combust in flames. He chuckled at watching your expression, even if his own matched with yours. “Can I keep going?”

You gulped and slowly nodded, but his eyes started tracing your neck and going downwards. You wondered what was going on and then they finally landed on your sundress. His hand raised to press against your waist and his eyes met with yours once more, pupils completely dilated with desire.

“Eddie?”

“Kitty… Can we keep the lights on?” Your heart stopped at that, your hands clenching on his shoulders and you felt your whole body break into a cold nervous sweat.

“I– I thought we were still going to keep the lights off–” And he shook his head, his eyes looking down towards the top of your sundress, a feral side of him coming to light and that he never thought he wouldn’t be able to control it when it came to you.

“We’ll do whatever you want but– Baby, I want to see the body I’ve been craving all these years. I want to see every detail, even a freckle I might have missed, or a mole in a place that I never thought I would see before…” You saw how his eyes traveled all over your body, the hand on your waist giving a press every now and then when his eyes landed at particular places.

You could feel it, even in the midst of your anxiety, that desire that wants to eat you alive, inch by inch, and your own need grows from it. His eyes are not lying, his body language is not lying, his touches, his words, his overall energy, are not lying to you. He wants you. Eddie wants you and has always wanted you. 

And that brings you an ounce of confidence. Even if small, it was enough to take the first step–

“Okay…” And his eyes snapped back towards yours, his uneasiness overlapping with his excitement.

“No– No, we don’t have to do something you don’t feel comfortable with because of my selfishness sweetheart–” 

“You– You promised you would show me…” And if you didn’t do the lights now, they would be on at some other point, wouldn’t they? You just had to rip the bandaid off. His head started turning, trying to see which was the best way to show you his true feelings, and he decided on a different approach than what he thought would be the most appropriate one.

He got a knee between yours, nudging on them. You looked down in surprise but followed the queue and parted your left leg away, very slowly, afraid of the sundress driving up even more than before. His eyes weren’t leaving your face though, needing to see your reaction as he pressed his knee against your right leg as well.

Your heart rate picked up, and the butterflies in your belly probably ate your stomach up at this point. You swallowed your nerves as you parted your right leg as well, and he was finally able to get his knees between your legs. He took a sharp courageous breath, letting a nervous sigh out, and pressed his hips against yours. 

You gasped and an electric current shot from your core to every single end nerve of your body. His bulge was harshly pressed against your center, and he groaned at finally having some friction against the strain. He was hard. He was rock hard for you.

His lips found yours in a soft peck, only to then kiss the corner of your mouth as he rolled his hips against yours and for the first time in the night, a little moan escaped your lips. The press was delicious on your clit, but it only was building your need for him, slowly, clouding your mind, your sight, your thoughts.

He groaned onto your skin, almost a growl, as his kisses traveled further into the crook of your neck. His hips kept rolling, getting a little lost in it all, drunkenness from finally having you hitting him at full blast. He sucked on places he hadn't before and he nibbled on the soft skin, making another moan escape you which only makes him twitch.

“You are the only one I’ve ever truly wanted… In every single possible way, you can imagine.” It was a low mumble, but it was enough for you to be able to hear it and for your arms to wrap around him, nails digging into his back, grabbing onto the black shirt, pulling on it at every roll of his lower half. 

He pulled away from your neck and raised himself on his knees, making your arms fall back down onto the mattress. He crossed his arms, reaching for the hem of his shirt and immediately ripping it away and throwing it across the room.

Your eyes widened when you saw his torso, his belly, the happy trail you have fantasized about so many times with, after that stupid magazine cover. His chest, which only had that skull and spider back in high school, was now littered with many random pieces, as well as his arms, even his hands. 

He was gorgeous, perfect, and has always been to your eyes, but now he is not only that but shining as if he were polished gold. Your eyes were all over his belly button and the V shape on his hips, not noticing the eyes that were looking at you with a smirk on his lips. Your eyes went downwards to the bulge on his pants and your eyes widened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at it better.

“Holy shit, I thought you were bluffing Eddie!” It wasn’t exactly a bulge… His dick was so hard that you could see the outline of his length as it pressed sideways against the restrictive pants. And–

“Whenever I said I was big, I meant it, and I also repeated it so many times to see if you showed any interest!” He almost yelled in a high-pitched voice which only made you giggle only to stop when you noticed his eyes scanning your every inch, making you gulp loudly. His hand reached down, fingers playing with the hem of your dress.

You two had seen eachother’s upper bodies, but in completely different situations. This wasn’t some nice summer’s day at a pool. He will see everything, and he wants to properly scan you, touch you, feel you. But– Fuck, the images of all those women pop in your head again, comparing yourself to them, their bodies, their futures, their ambitions, and their wealth. 

You close your eyes tightly, waiting for the tug of the shirt in order to help him by lifting your upper body from the mattress, but his fingers let go of the dress, and that warm touch suddenly appears on your cheek. You opened your eyes to meet his. He was giving you a small reassured smile as he looked down at your face, pupils that gave you safety and filled you with warmth.

You noticed his fingers were slightly trembling and you realized that Eddie was just as nervous as you were. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your lips, making you moan in delight at feeling him this close once more. He chuckled in between and pulled away moments after in order to talk again.

“I compared myself with Steve today.” And your eyebrows raised at that in surprise. 

“What? Why?” He couldn’t help but scoff at your question and he kneeled back up in between your legs, letting you prop yourself up on your elbows. He motioned all over himself and then looked back at you as if it were obvious.

“I am not exactly like him, baby. Steve has no tattoos, wears sunshine clothes, rich boy clothes, listens to pop music, and is a tidy guy… I am nothing like that sweetheart.” You were shocked at those words… Eddie? With who he is now, doubting himself?

“B-But… you– you didn’t have to worry–”

“I know that now… so let me show you just how much you don’t have to worry either. Please…” He was looking down at your face, waiting for a response. Your heart soared into the sky at those words, and despite your nervousness, there was a side of you that trusted Eddie blindly, and it was whispering to you that you should let him. Let him show you what he means by all of that.

So you slowly sit up and cross your arms in order to grab the hem of your dress and before you could say anything or stop, you yanked it upwards, throwing it to the side. Your eyes were not looking at him, not wanting to see the reaction to your body. A body he is not used to having anymore. It’s not firm, or perky, or smooth, markless, spotless. It’s full of those.

Instead, you felt fingers on your chin that made you lift your head up so you could look at Eddie once more. He was smiling softly as he leaned and kissed you, softly and gently. You felt yourself being lowered again, back hitting against the mattress, while one of his hands pressed onto your waist and the other helped with the leverage of moving you down.

His lips broke apart from yours and your body was burning from the small interaction only for a cold sweat to invade you as you saw him straighten up again and his eyes locked on your body. The visible part of your breasts above the cups of your bra, your shoulders, your tummy, your hips, and you needed to cover your body, or at least your face to not see his reaction.

But your eyes caught onto the twitch of pain in his eyebrows as he groaned softly into his throat. You could see his jaw clench, and a vein in his neck popping out slightly as he swallowed hard. 

“Eds–?”

“I’m sorry– I can’t hold myself back, I’m sorry.” And his hand quickly went to his jeans, unbuttoning them and zipping them down, a sigh of relief coming out and then, with an almost animalistic growl, he lunged back down on you, his lips taking yours in a ravishing kiss. Hot, rough, deep, moving at a quick desperate pace. You were thrown off at the intensity but quickly reciprocated as the butterflies in your belly exploded in retaliation.

His kiss only made the fire worse and you wrapped your arms around his neck to have something to hold on to as you raised your hips up to meet his, needing some kind of friction. You moaned into the kiss when his bulge rubbed against your clothed pussy. He grunted and bit your bottom lip gently as if to reprimand you for the action. 

His lips traveled south and you expected them back on your neck, but they kept moving, kissing on your collarbone, and then the top of one of your breasts. You gasped and arched your back slightly as his hips kept rutting against yours, slow but still very needy. His lips went to your other breast only to then continue down, kissing your chest and downwards to your tummy, his hips leaving yours as he moved down, sending shivers all over your body and you could feel the goosebumps rising up on your skin.

His hands were now gripping your hips, fingers digging on your skin, dipping into it as if he were clawing into something to keep himself centered. His lips traveled all over your tummy, and your waist, groans leaving his mouth as he bit onto your side, a nibble, causing you to jump. He was being so… needy, and desperate, something you never experienced before. 

He moved upwards again, his lips not leaving your skin, but his body moving up again as one hand traveled all the way towards your back, making you arch it upwards a little bit. You felt his fingers play with the clasp of your bra and he kept kissing over the cups of it, making you mewl a little as you felt yourself clench in anticipation.

“Eddie–”

“Please, let me see more… Please, sweetheart?” His eyes were cloudy in the darkness of lust as he raised his head up, chin resting on your chest with his mouth hanging slightly open. You gulped a bit but you felt a certain power in you that you didn’t think you would feel with him. Some kind of confidence rises up inside your chest. 

“Yeah…” You fully arch your back so he can have more movement to snap your bra open in one movement. You lay back down once he takes his hand out and immediately it grabs onto the strap of your left shoulder to push it down, surprising you by how quickly he was moving, as if he weren’t thinking anymore, just acting.

He makes a cup move out of the way, revealing your perked-up nipple, making you flush a bit in embarrassment but also in arousal, as you feel the cold air hit it a bit. You can’t even think far enough that his lips circle around it, your nipple being sucked into his mouth as his tongue presses on it. His hand was roughly grabbing onto your breast to keep it still and you squirmed beneath him as pleasure filled your senses.

You let a moan out when his teeth grazed the tip of your nipple, and his own satisfaction showed when a groan got stuck in his throat. His hips started moving against you again, the shape of his dick rubbing deliciously against your heat, over and over, destroying your underwear each second it passed but you couldn’t care less. 

With a ‘pop’ he let go of your left nipple in order to raise up and rip your bra off your body finally. Now, without the elastics of your bra, you know your breasts are not in perfect shape, gravity, changes of weight, and the years doing their job with your skin. The stretch marks pronounced around the nipple area, which made you a little self-conscious only for that thought to be thrown out the window when Eddie talked once more, almost in a whine.

“The most perfect pair of tits I’ve ever seen baby, so fucking perfect, jesus christ…” You felt a wave of embarrassment at the dirty talking. You will have to get used to how it makes you feel coming from your best friend’s mouth. But he sounded so delighted as if he were drunk, staring at them, back and forth, trying to decide if he should go for the other neglected nipple but then his eyes hit your surprised ones, and you see how they widen in realization.

“A– Are they?” And he covered his face with one hand to cover up his reddened cheeks. 

“I uh… Yeah, I just– Fuck, I said that out loud, didn’t I?” And you couldn’t help but giggle, making your breasts jiggle a bit at your laughter, his eyes flickering to them instinctively. 

“Well, glad to know that…” And you honestly were. No one has ever looked at you the way Eddie was doing right now, so desperately, wanting to ravish you but waiting for you to give him the green light to do so. The fire inside of you and all over your body needed to be extinguished, and you also had to show him how eager you were for him, your own patience after ten long years wearing thin.

You sat up, looking up at him as your fingers hooked on his boxers and jeans. He licked his lips nervously, his eyes scanning your face as he gulped harshly, his hands moving to go over yours and help you drag down his clothes. 

Your head slowly moved downwards when you felt his bulge forbidding you to move the boxers even lower, prompting you to stretch the elastic even more and your eyes widened when you finally saw him. His cock slaps against his belly, and your face must be one of awe because Eddie had to clear his throat to center you back to reality.

“Um, you okay there?” He tried to say it with a hint of comedy, humor, but he was nervous, just so fucking nervous. 

You two know eachother since kids, and even with that thought in mind, it doesn’t feel weird to be right here with you like this, knowing what the two of you were about to do. But maybe you don’t think the same. Now seeing him completely naked might make you rethink what the two of you were doing, thinking about the past, about what–

He hissed in surprise when he felt your hand over his shaft, your thumb pressing onto his red leaking tip, causing him to lock eyes with you again. You were smiling up at him, an innocent little grin that stirred the lust inside of him and renewed it. He was big in your hand, that you were slowly moving, lazily, feeling the warmth of it on your palm. 

You wanted to dart your tongue out, feeling like being a little filthy, show him how eager and needy of him you were. You were looking at the tip, your eyes clouded with desire, and your mouth started to open, only for Eddie’s hand to press on your cheek to make you look up at him.

“As much as I would love for you to make one of my many wet dreams about you come true, I don’t want to lose the small bit of dignity I have left.” You tilted your head in confusion at that only to be pushed back onto the mattress, making you bounce on it, opening your eyes after you gasped to see Eddie taking off his clothes, and almost falling off the edge of the bed in the action, making you snort, covering your mouth after he sent a glare your way.

“I’m sorry Eds, but– I think you just lost that dignity you mentioned.” You giggled and he growled as he crawled over you, his finger hooking into the elastic of your underwear, yanking it and letting go so it hit against your skin, making you yelp at the 

little sting.

“Don’t mock me now.” Your giggles stopped when you met his dark eyes, just looking down into yours, his head tilting to the side. “Can I keep going or are you going to keep laughing at me? I am on a mission, Kitty.”

Your eyebrows frowned in confusion as you stirred a bit below him. Before you could ask, his face went back to the crook of your neck where he could continue with the soft featherlight kisses and as you were about to close your eyes, you felt his fingers playing with the elastic of your underwear once more, making your breath hitch.

You felt him nibble on your pulse point at the same time his fingers sneaked in, a little bit of self-consciousness filled you when you realized you hadn’t shaved properly, just trimmed, and maybe those women he slept with had the laser hair removal you cannot afford. You opened your mouth to apologize but the words were stolen away when his index finger grazed your clit softly, yet perfect.

“Eddie–” You breathed out, and he only gave a low humming with satisfaction as he felt how wet you were for him. He was twitching, wanting to rub himself on you to relieve himself a bit, the friction very much needed but– he wanted to do this. He wanted to make you come undone underneath him, show you just how good he could be for you, how eager he is to give you pleasure.

His middle finger pressed on your clit, a little harder now, slow and lazy circles being done as your breathing turned into held in moans, and whimpers as your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. Yeah, mark him. Mark him. He wants you to mark him, just like he always had wanted you to do.

“So fucking perfect for me– I’ve always known but fuck–” You whimpered at his words, trembling underneath him as he kept rubbing you, deliciously so. His mouth left your throat to then peck your collarbone and shift a bit lower, his back arching so his lips could land on your left nipple. 

His middle finger ran through your slit, coating it with your wetness before slowly starting to nudge inside. At the same time, his mouth started sucking and flicking your hardened nipple with his tongue, causing you to throw your head back onto the pillow, a strangled moan escaping your lips, making him smile with victory against your breast as his finger was engulfed by your warmth.

He couldn’t help but groan at the feel of you, reaching deep, his dreams and imagination out of the window as you gave another whimper when he pulled his finger out, only to plunge it inside again, easily. He needed to worship you. He wanted to make you cum on his fingers, on his tongue, many times, putting you first above everything, needing to hear you moan his name repeatedly… but your breathy moans make it hard to be patient.

He pulled out of your cunt in order to rub his ring finger along his middle one now, rubbing fast-paced circles on your clit, making your hips jerk against him. He had to bite his bottom lip as he raised himself a bit to look down at your face. Your eyes were clenched as moans started coming out of your mouth, embarrassment no longer in you about those. He groans at the angry twitch of his dick. 

He licked his lips as he slowly started pressing both his fingers inside of you, stretching you, preparing you. You gasped when he got them inside of you in one move, eyes opening to see him looking down at you with a fucked out look on his face. Your eyes were teary because of the pleasure, face, and body burning up in a thousand degrees. 

“Eds…” You called him out as he pulled his fingers back out and then in again, the palm of his hand slamming against your clit, making your back arch at it as he kept repeating the action, his pace increasing. You could hear the squelching now, making you slightly embarrassed but the pleasure he is giving you right now completely overshadows it.

“Yeah, baby?” You whimpered at the nickname, loving the way it sounded in his mouth, the nickname you always fantasized about. Imagining his voice saying it to you in random moments, but mostly in these kinds of situations, where he was slowly breaking you apart.

“P-Please–” What were you begging for? You didn’t know. You weren’t that talkative during sex, but… you wanted Eddie to know, or hear you, anything. Just let him know you were feeling good. You gasped a moan out when his fingers curled, the squelching becoming even nastier, filthier, but he was hitting that spot that you sometimes have a hard time figuring out. “O-Oh fuck–!”

“Found it.” He said with a smug smirk as he saw how you clenched your eyes again, moaning louder, one of your hands shooting out to grip the sheets while the other dug into his bicep, tightly. Your legs were shaking as he kept going, his fingers just making you clench around him, your pussy being filled and satisfied.

“I’m– more, more!” He was surprised by your words, not knowing if you were normally vocal or not, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. He groaned as he leaned down to your right nipple, engulfing it with his teeth and giving a soft pull, pressing his palm against your clit in order to move his hand up and down. His fingertips rub your G-spot while the heel of his hand rubs against your clit.

Your eyes widen at the new feeling. It was raw, rough, desperate, and he moaned against your skin as you started fluttering around him, the pressure building in your belly like never before. It was going quickly, a fire that was spreading, not letting you run away. You were almost crying out his name as you kept trembling underneath him. He pulled away from your nipple in order to hover over you, his nose nudging yours.

“You close, love?” You whined at the nickname as your hips met the thrust of his fingers. He gave you a soft kiss, the opposite of what he was doing in the lower part of your body. The elastic band was stretching and stretching, your belly contracting at the pressure. Your moans came out in sharp breaths, chest heaving up and down as now both your hands flew to his shoulders as your back arched against him.

“Yes– Yes– Eddie, Eddie, baby–” And the elastic band snapped while Eddie moaned at the nickname, the first time you called him that and not his name. Your walls clenched tightly around his fingers and he moaned with delight as you spasmed underneath him, his dick threatening to finally shoot his seed, not being able to hold it back anymore, but he held back, with all of his strength.

Your moan was loud, satisfaction rushing all over your body as you trembled, legs giving up almost. You felt his fingers still moving, helping you ride it out, until you slowly calmed down, a few twitches of your legs here and there. It was probably the best orgasm you received… for now. He slowed his movements as he stared down at you, a pleased smile on his face as you opened your eyes to look at him, your breaths heavy.

“So? How was that?” He cocked his head to the side as he gave you one more thrust and you whined at the overstimulation, your hips moving away slightly and he got the clue so he pulled his fingers out of you. You looked at how he took his hand out of your underwear, the wet fingers grazing your pelvis slightly and you looked at how he raised his fingers to his mouth and your eyes widened.

“You–” You couldn’t even finish your sentence when his fingers entered his own mouth. No person had ever done that to you. So eager to taste you that they licked their fingers with so much delight. He moaned at the taste and he cursed at himself for not going down on you. But maybe he can have a small taste…

“Couldn’t help myself Kitty. Needed to know, and I am gonna grow addicted to it, I can already tell.” He raised himself back up on his knees and you looked down to see him still hard, and you winced with embarrassment.

“Let me do something Eddie–” He shook his head at you, his fingers digging into the elastic of your underwear, pulling it away. Your face flushed as you raised your hips up and– He will see it. What if it’s not pretty? What if there’s something he doesn’t like? Or too bushy, or maybe–

But as soon as your underwear is off, and you lay bare beneath him, he can’t help but tremble as his hand reaches his length. The number of times he had imagined you like this, there’s not even a way of counting them. It’s years of imagination, of dreams, of songs he wrote about your body. Songs you might not even know they’re about you. 

You didn’t know what to do as he stared down at you, wanting to close your legs but he was in between them. Your eyes widened when he scanned your body and he started to slowly stroke himself, just soft grazes. Was he touching himself by just looking at you? Did he do that before? Were you the protagonist of some dirty dreams he had?

He suddenly moves backwards, just three small movements with his knees, away from you. You tilt your head as you raise yourself on your elbows to look at him. His body bends down and your eyes widen when his eyes cannot leave your center, wetness all around, and he just looks drunk. 

“I’m sorry, can’t help myself…” It was his soft mumble as he gave a pointed lick in between your folds, and you groaned as your hips bucked towards him. He moaned as he gathered some of your juices, gulping them down and straightening again. 

Your eyes locked again, and the need was worse than it ever was before. The desire burning you both alive. It prompted Eddie to move quickly from in between your legs, his knees guiding him slightly to the side so he could reach over and open the drawer of his night table. You turned your head to watch how he took an unopened box of condoms. 

He cursed when he couldn’t open it from how nervous he suddenly got. He was finally going to get what he had always wanted, and now that it’s here… His thoughts were cut off when he felt your soft hands engulfing his, taking the box in your grasp, thumb pressing onto one edge to pop it open. 

He gave you a smile, a fond, caring one, and took the box once more, pulling a foil out. He moved again, his hands gripping your knees that had closed slightly, reopening them with a tut as he placed himself in between. You looked at how he ripped the foil open with his teeth, throwing it somewhere, and then rolled the latex over himself. 

Your heart was on your throat now, knots of nerves inside of your belly, needing to simply detangle or explode. He looked down at you and crawled on top of you, his forearms coming to rest on either side of your head in order to support himself over your body. His nose nudged yours, a hum vibrating in his throat.

“You okay princess?” He asked and you sighed in delight, giving a small nod.

“Yeah… you?”

“I’m fucking nervous.” He admitted, no playfulness in his tone and it surprised you. “But I am also very excited.”

And you decided to be the one to diffuse the tension a little bit this time. You raised your hips and rubbed your center along his shaft, coating it with your wetness, making him groan and raise an eyebrow at you. A smirk played on your lips as you looked at your best friend.

“I can feel that alright.” And Eddie’s lips turned into a smile, his eyes filled with love just as much as yours were. One of his arms left the mattress to get in between you two, grabbing onto his cock, and rubbing the tip of it against your folds and clit, making you whimper. 

“Bratty little shit.” And his hips pressed in, his arm returning to the same position as before, and your mouths fell into an ‘o’ shape, a choked breath in your throats as he slowly thrusts himself inside of you, inch by inch. 

Electricity ran all over your body, on every nerve and artery, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes. You could feel it everywhere, every single thing in the world making sense for some reason. You didn’t care about anything else but him at this moment. Him and how he felt as he slowly filled you, finally, after so long. Your legs raised up, thighs pressing against his sides as the heels of your feet dug into his hips.

He moaned when half of his cock was already inside of you and he cursed when he felt himself twitch. He had to hold it back for a little longer, he needed this to be perfect. He needed to make this last, though, he knew this wouldn’t be the last time. He hoped it would be the first time of many.

His lips desperately pressed against yours as his hips kept pressing in, deeper and deeper and you wondered how much you could possibly take as he stretched you open, your wetness making it all a little easier. There was a small pressure, a little sting at the sudden intrusion but it was still so delicious.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you kissed him back, hands moving to his hair and you remembered the bun he had on. It was a little loose, and you wanted to see his mane all over his face, just like the Eddie you had been pining for since high school. You needed to see him like that as he made you scream his name.

Your fingers dug into his ponytail and started to yank, trying not to rip his hair when doing so. He winced a bit in between the kiss and you giggled, having some trouble in freeing his hair. He groaned and pulled away from the kiss, his hips stopping as his arm reached up and swatted your hand away in order to take the hairband off himself. 

You heard a few hairs being ripped out and you winced at the sound but he didn’t care as his curls fell down. Your eyes softened as you finally saw your Eddie. You loved his hair up, but… his hair down just reminded you of the first time you looked at him with different eyes. It was when it was getting longer after deciding to never let anyone give him a buzz cut ever again.

“Happy?” He asked and you giggled, his hair now all over his face and shoulders, falling on your face as well, making your cheeks tingle. You moved your hands to gather it up and pull it all over to one side only. He shook his head at you, fond eyes and a smile directed your way. “You shouldn’t have taken it off. It will be a little bothersome.”

“I wanted to… Your long hair is one of the things I love the most about you…” He tilted his head to the side as his eyes filled with confusion. 

“My hair?”

“Yeah… When you decided to let it grow, it’s when you turned into… you.” You smiled up at him, eyes filled with love and stars and he could see them all as his heart combusted inside of his chest. 

He can now truly absolutely believe that you were meant for him. No woman could make him feel the way you do. You love him with everything in you, he can see it in your eyes. You have loved him before his fame, and he cannot be more grateful to destiny for bringing you into his life. He will never be able to say thank you enough.

But his feelings made his body twitch, a sudden electric shock sent to his whole body as his hips moved by themselves. Your smile slowly vanished as your mouth fell into a breathless moan, eyes widening as he stared down at your face and how it slowly contorted. He needed to be fully inside of you, his feelings making his body take what it has been craving for so long.

You gasped as your head was thrown back against the pillow when his hips suddenly slammed against yours, making him bottom out and fill you entirely. He was big, a definite stretch, but god it felt wonderful. Right. Meant to be even as your back arched against him, his lips falling to your exposed neck, groaning against your skin as he kept himself from moving, letting you adjust and for his mind to help him not end this as soon as it started.

Your nails were digging into his shoulders for some grounding, your mind and heart racing and you felt everything a little too much. You gave a small groan as you pressed your back against the mattress once more, and his face raised up from your neck in order to look down at you. 

“I love you.” His words were not new, not anymore, yet they made your heart skip many beats now. The butterflies in your stomach exploded and you gave him a small smile. You opened your mouth in order to reply only for a moan of yours to occupy where your words should have been as his hips moved backwards and in again. 

“I– I love you Ed– ah!” You couldn’t even finish it correctly because as the first letter left your mouth, his movement quickened just a bit. His hips swayed back and forth, moving slowly still but you felt the drag of him against your walls. His face lowered, his elbows on each side of your head, his forearms and hands holding onto your head, fingers running through your scalp as he used that hold to keep himself up and for his hips to move faster.

His lips were against your cheek, and now the hit of skin against skin started being heard and you felt your whole body flush in embarrassment, or pleasure, or a mix of it all. Suddenly his breath hit your ear as he groaned at each thrust of his hips. He felt too good, and you felt your mind drifting away, further from consciousness, until you heard his words again.

I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He kept repeating them in your ear at each thrust his hips made, his fingers on your scalp as his chest rubbed against yours. You moaned when you felt his tip just graze your g-spot but not quite there yet. Your nails ran from his shoulders and down to his back, scratching him, and your eyes opened when you realized you hadn’t done your part of the deal yet.

So you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck as your nails dug even deeper into the skin and your mouth opened. Your lips latched onto his skin and he groaned, hips stuttering slightly at your possessiveness of him. He could feel the burning in his back and now, the one on the side of his throat as you marked him in two places of his body.

You knew he liked to get shirtless in his concerts, of course you did… And he can’t wait to show everyone, his fans, his band members, his team, his staff, what you did to him. What you are to him. What he is to you. To finally show everyone who owns him, in body and soul.

He felt you nibble, suck, lick, kiss, and he knew it was going to be a big mark, just like the one he left you. He pulled away from your ear and raised himself up on his hands in order to look down at you. Your eyes were glossy, just like your lips which are also plump from all the kissing you’ve done to his skin. He wants to devour you, a fire that had always been there, but now it was scorching hot, almost painful. 

So why hold back?

His hips draw back and strike against yours in a forceful thrust. It was deep, so fucking deep, that he couldn’t help but groan, almost growl at your tightness. A choked moan escaped you from the surprise and the sudden punch to your spongy spot. Your eyes met his, now clouded in a dark cloud of pleasure, hints of love and devotion here and there, but you could see that he needed to ruin you, take what is his.

Your fingers are on his biceps now as he literally, absolutely, starts railing you into the mattress, like a madman, as if it were his first time ever. Reckless, sloppy, harsh, but still perfected. The bed made the both of you bounce, helping the movements, and your moans turned into whimpers and cries of his name.

“Eddie–!” You didn’t even notice that drool was coming out from the corner of your mouth, not noticing how long you had your lips parted for your moans to come out. You saw how intensely he was looking at you, as if he were to try to remember each trace of your face. Nervousness invaded you as well as some kind of self-consciousness, not knowing if your face was scrunching too much due to the pleasure, making your eyes avert away.

“Oh no, I’m having none of that.” You felt his hand grip your jaw and turn your head so he could look at you once again. Your cheeks were on fire, and you could swear tears were beginning to threaten to leave your eyes. His hair was all over his shoulders, moving at the pace of his hips, sweat on his forehead and tattooed chest. He was gorgeous. He was so beautiful that it hurt.

Your moans were still coming out steadily out of your lips until his hips shifted, just slightly, and his thrusts were now in a more upward direction. Your G-Spot was being punched by the tip of his cock and your belly was turning deliciously at each movement. 

He wanted to prove himself. He wanted to prove to you that he is the only one you will ever need, that he is the only one that can make you feel this good. He took his time fingering you in order to know where your spot was correctly. He has a lot to learn about you, and you about him, but there will be other times for that. 

For now, he just wants to see you come undone underneath him.

“F-Fuck–Fuck!” Your right hand was holding the wrist that held your face, while the left one was still gripping his bicep. You wanted to scream, the pleasure being too much yet not enough, trying to reach that high once more. A smile appeared on his lips, and you dared to say that it looked evil, cheeky, snarky, cocky.

“Weird?” And that bastard– He was mocking you. He was mocking you for ever thinking that this would feel weird for the both of you, considering the years of friendship. You growled a bit at him, a warning which only made him chuckle as he kept pounding into you, a particular drag making him groan.

“S-Shut up!” And oh you sounded so amazing like this. Breathless, needy, frustrated, pleasured… It was a mixture of everything, and he needed more as he felt his dick twitch inside of you. He hasted his movements and you could only whine in question as your confused, glossy eyes looked up at him. 

He groaned with displeasure as he pulled out of you and let go of your face, kneeling up and moving backwards slightly. His hands came to your hips, and he motioned for you to the next position he desired, which made the blood completely leave your body. 

He wanted you on all fours. He would have a perfect view of everything. Every single spot of texture, every stretchmark, all of your cellulite… just everything. And the lights are still on. Fuck they’re still on. Your hands were not fast enough to stop him from using his strength in order to turn you around on the mattress, your legs flailing as you were now on your belly onto the mattress.

You opened your mouth, embarrassment already too deep, afraid of even turning your head to look at him. You didn’t want to see the scrunch on his face when he looked at your skin. You are no professional model, and you certainly don’t have the money for all the treatments they can afford on their skin. 

But what you didn’t expect was the ferocious bite you received on your left ass cheek, making you yelp. He was behind you, his hands digging on your hips in order to pull your ass up, getting you to press your knees on the mattress and finally be in a formal all fours. You were almost shocked at how easily he manhandled you, at how quick he was. You slowly turned your head over your shoulder and you clenched at the sight.

Eddie looked drunk as he looked at your behind. He was even stroking himself as he looked at you, careful to not roll the condom off. You were stunned, hands and knees on the bed as he kneeled behind you. One of his hands came to rub your left ass cheek, to then give it a slap, causing you to whimper and jump at the action. 

“Eddie!” 

“Fuck, look at you…” His hand left his dick, and now both of his palms were engulfing your ass, pressing tightly, digits digging urgently into the skin as his face leaned downwards in order to kiss the small of your back and then one cheek. Your face was on fire, but you didn’t know if it was embarrassment or shame anymore… you felt loved. You felt like a goddess. Eddie was making you feel like an absolute goddess.

A bite landed on your right ass cheek this time, gentle but enough to grab some skin and pull gently. He groaned desperately, needing to swallow you whole. You weren’t aware of the state you put him in. He was feral. You were perfect, so fucking perfect and he was gonna make damn sure you knew this.

“Eddie please…” You whined one more time and he gave a small nibble to your ass cheek. He can bite on them a bit more later on. He straightened up and guided the tip of his cock to your sopping entrance, and pushed right in once more. Not slow, yet not fast, just easily.

The two of you groaned with relief as he thrusted a few times, before fully bottoming out inside of you. He growled into his throat as he took a deep breath in and closed his eyes. He is not going to last long, but he for sure was not going to end this without you clenching around his cock.

His hands are now on your waist, gripping your skin in order to guide himself in and out of you, the smacking of hips now echoing once more around the room. He looked at how your ass jiggled underneath him as his hips hit you. He was smirking, a small smack landing on one of your cheeks, making you yelp in between your moans.

He felt you clench a few times, and he cursed into the sky as he had to get a hold of himself so he wouldn’t spill too fast.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight Kitty– You gonna cum for me?” A dumb ‘Uh-Huh’ was heard from you as you nodded as best as you could. Your arms and legs were trembling, the squelching of your juices with his thrusts a little too loud. It should shame you, but it’s the whole contrary now. You want him to know just how wet you were for him. How good he is making you feel right now, emotionally and physically.

“Y-Yeah Eds, yeah, please–” And you didn’t have to ask twice. His right hand left your hip and guided it underneath, reaching your clit with his index and middle finger. You gasped as your belly suddenly turned at the attention. “FUCK!” 

“I know baby, I know…” You whimpered at the nickname as his fingers moved on your sensitive nub, while his dick kept hitting your spot in a perfect rhythm. Your mouth was open, sometimes moans came out, sometimes only drool, but you couldn’t close it. Your pussy clenched around him, making him wince and curse under his breath. “Fucking shit…”

“Baby, baby–” You were warning him and he nodded with determination, his dick twitching inside of you until he saw stars at the same time you did. “EDDIE–!” 

Your walls clenched tightly around him, your legs trembling as your belly exploded with bursts of heat. He didn’t stop the rubbing of your clit, making you choke some moans out, wanting to move away from his grip, but he held you tightly in place so you wouldn’t stop the ride of your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck– holy shit–!” And he groaned loudly, almost whimpering at how hard he came inside of the condom. He gave a few hard thrusts at each spurt of his cum, making you whine at the last strides of your own climax. Soon, your walls slowly unclenched, legs trembling ever so slightly, and his hand left your clit.

The two of you were panting, completely breathless from the lovemaking that just occurred. He took a sharp intake of breath as he slowly pulled out of you, making him wince and you whimper at the loss of him. You immediately flopped on the bed, face hitting the pillow. He chuckled a bit hoarsely and took off the condom, tying it off and looking around.

You turned your head in order to catch him in time, a frown appearing on your face as you turned to your side so you could point a finger at him.

“Don’t you dare throw it on the floor.” He raised an eyebrow at you and then a fond smile appeared on his lips. The two of you were covered in sweat, your breaths slowly leveling out again, a sight he never thought would occur. 

“You gonna boss me around in my own home Kitty?” You rolled your eyes at him and he smiled, getting up from the bed on wobbly legs. “Woah–” You covered your mouth in order not to laugh, but he only glared at you as he straightened up once more.

“Sorry–”

“Yeah, I wanna see how you get up from the bed. Come on.” You shook your head and immediately crawled underneath his sheets, covering yourself completely, and hiding from him. He chuckled at that and threw the used condom on his trashcan to then almost sprint to the bed and jump on top of it, making you bounce and yelp on the side you were on.

It made the sheets move away slightly, uncovering you from the waist up. Eddie looked down at you. Your hair was a mess, your makeup smudged… but fuck you were so beautiful. All of you. And you were now his.

“You’re mean…” He chuckled at you and got inside the sheets as well, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you on top of him, making you giggle.

“I’m anything but that…” He bit his lip and then cleared his throat as nerves filled his body once more. He was a rockstar, yet you made him more nervous than any concert he ever played in his life. “Kitty… I want– I want you. Like, I want this to be official.”

And that was the other part of this love that you were afraid of. Official? With Eddie? You?

“I–” You gulped as shame coursed through your body. “I am– no one, Eddie… I am not famous or– I mean, you might lose fans if we come out as official…” 

And when you looked at Eddie’s eyes, you saw them become doe-eyed, a sad frown appearing on his eyebrows, as he looked at your face. A hand came up to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, making you sigh. 

“Baby, I’ve been wanting you for god knows how long… I don’t care what happens to my reputation… and if my fans are truly my fans, they should be happy that I finally got the chick I’ve been singing about for the past two years.” 

Your heart felt like it melted with his words. Your eyes were tracing his face, the shape of his eyes, his nose, his lips. Every expression he did out of happiness or excitement, was because of you now. He definitely loves you, doesn’t he?

“You– Will you show me which songs were the ones about me?” You smile cheekily at him, and he raises an eyebrow at you, grips your hip slightly in warning and you can’t help but giggle.

“Yes, only if you’re mine.” 

And this wasn’t the last you’ve seen about the lack of confidence, you knew that. But there is something you are definitely, most certainly, confident about. Eddie Munson loves you, with everything in him, and wants you desperately.

“Deal.” A cheeky smile appears on his lip and you give him a pointed frown. “Apologize to Steve.”

And his smile faded, tilting his nose up.

“Never.”

You’ve got one cocky little rockstar of a boyfriend.

end

a/n: orange peel skin is what we call the skin when it looks pitted, formed by cellulite most of the times.

i hope you all enjoyed this little thing (not so little)

always reblog your artists

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x y/n #fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson ficlet #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson

[killersfool]

You Might Get What You Want | ROBERT KEATING

PAIRING: robert keating x original f!character

GENRE: childhood frenemies to lovers

SUMMARY: lucia (luz), nieve ella’s keyboardist, has an estranged history with inhaler—especially with the band’s bassist, bobby. their fiery hatred for eachother rapidly blossoms into something sweet, especially when she learns that he wrote a song about her.

WORDS: 5.8k

WARNINGS: kissing, swearing, alcohol use, mild sexual content

Being Nieve Ella's keyboardist has completely altered the course of my life. Only eight months ago, I was doing my second year of uni, trying to get through a Music course and completely regretting all of my life choices. My favourite part of the day would be getting home and sitting at my piano, writing songs and posting them on Tiktok. Views racked up, followers kept coming in and I think I realised how well everything was going when Laufey commented on my cover of 'Like The Movies'. Then about two weeks later, an email shot through my phone—literally like a bullet to skin. I dropped the rectangular device to the ground mid-lecture, hand on my mouth, teeth in my lip. 

Nieve Ella had asked me to join her on tour. With Inhaler.

At first I was laughing, then I was bawling with endless tears of happiness and now I'm on my final show still feeling woozy and adrenaline is banging through my brain. The whole band have become my best friends. And, quite shockingly, me and Inhaler have a weird shared history. I've known them since I was really young. I used to watch their first gigs at tiny venues where they'd run around in the crowd and hardly anyone knew the lyrics. I went to the same school as Bobby, Eli and Ryan who were a bunch of madmen. They'd let me hang out with them backstage or at practice and jam before they finally found a 'proper' keyboardist (Louis). To be honest, I'd always been slightly salty that I never got into the band. But I guess we were never close enough and I could be quite horrible to Bobby — but honestly, he deserved it. He was a whiny, teenage nightmare. Still is. Except he's not a teenager anymore.

Thankfully, Nieve Ella and the band take a train separate to Inhaler. I don't have to hear Bobby's jests 24/7.  Today we're heading to Dublin. The final stop of the Cuts and Bruises tour. It's been a long ride but it's all been worth it. I've had the best time ever. I'm listening to the Strokes, a song Bobby recommended to me a few weeks ago. It's been on my mind ever since and I can't stop hearing the same chords and riffs over and over. Even when my headphones leave my ears. The song is 12:51 and funnily enough Bobby has a tattoo right on his bicep with those exact numbers. The lads gave us a rather enjoyable tattoo tour with reasons for each of their inked designs. 

I lay back my head against the cushioned seat.  I like this, I prefer it to what I was doing before. The constant stress, the exams,  the structure. I like the freedom of doing shows and seeing new people and travelling to new places. Never sure what you're in for. Crowd after crowd with all different energies and enthusiasm. The adrenaline rush is the best part of the day but when you wake up the following morning, it's like the life has been sucked out of you. You feel like nothing. Human. A person with legs and arms. Flailing around with no thoughts in your head. A billion times worse than a hangover. Post concert depression.  The lull after such a powerful high. It's nice to go through that hell with a group of friends who all feel the same way. Becomes a strange group therapy.

For the past hour, I've been begging Josh to tell me what is on the set list. I'm praying they'll add some different songs. Older ones. Seeing as it's the last show of the tour. Something to surprise the fans. Maybe 'Falling In' or 'There's No Other Place' or even my favourite 'You Might Get What You Want'. That was one that was written when Rob was the lead singer of the band. When I'd bang the keys in that garage. When we'd sing the lyrics together and sound like an awful church choir. I never got the chance to listen to it live, performed properly by the band. I'm still heartbroken they didn't leave it on the track list for the album. I have to resort to listening to illegal Spotify versions. 

I feel like crying everytime I remember this is the last show I might ever do with Inhaler. The last time I might see the lot of them. They'll surely disappear off into the shadows once tour is over, making their next album, cutting off all contact to focus solely on their music. After spending so much time with a group of people, then completely losing them from your life, you just feel so very empty. Like a swimming pool with no water. Or a mug of tea left hollow after spilling it all by accident. Last night — I would never dare to admit this to anyone — I cried for two hours straight into the pillow of my hotel room. Tour is a glorious thing. Fun, exciting, terrifying all at the same time. But the thought of finality is what split me into pieces, broke me up and squeezed tear after tear from my eyes.

Fran keeps looking at me with raised eyebrows like she's about to ask a question. She's scribbling on her set list, making sure she knows exactly what's happening and when. Her earrings twinkle as she tilts her head, her eyeliner sharp and perfect. Her mouth parts the slightest bit to reveal white teeth, a small smile. "You alright there, Luz?"

God, anytime someone asks me that, it makes me want to cry ten times more. I look down the train compartment, stare at the bathroom and decide whether to make my move. Do I run and hide in there for the duration of the trip, two hours of crying into mouldy train toilet paper? Or do I try to brave it and tell her how I feel? Or just lie through gritted teeth? She's good at reading me. She'll know that I'm not telling the truth.

"Don't tell Nieve this but I feel like absolute shite." There it is. I said it. Fire sinks into my skin, blood rushes up to my head. I squeeze my cheek to make sure I am actually sitting here and that I'm not hallucinating. Lack of sleep had made me seem some weird shit. I need caffeine. Quick.

"We all do." Fran puts her hand on top of mine. "Look, one more show, then we can sleep for as long as we want."

"That's the thing. I don't want this to end."

Fran gets up from her seat and swivels around the table. She sits down beside me, arms opening up and embraces me until I think I see stars. No one has ever hugged me so tightly. My bones seem to audibly shift. 

"Nieve's doing a few shows in February, remember? And I'm sure next time Inhaler tours, they'll be on their hands and knees begging for us to come back." She strokes my hair. "Although, Bobby might be telling us to bugger off instead. You two need to sort out this drama. It's driving us all mad."

"He started it." I sound like a three-year-old irritated at my brother. 

Fran laughs to herself. "Fucking hell. I bet he did." 

—

Arguing. It's happened again. Our last day together has gone to a great start.

First stop of the day—a random restaurant that Ryan dragged us to. Hugs were shared, kind words uttered, teeth glowing under dim lights. I sit down on a wooden chair, peel my jacket from my body and place it on the back. The cool wind is slamming against the windows. I'd forgotten how cold Dublin was. Especially in November. Some Christmas lights adorn the streets and pubs are lively with masses of people. We were stopped a only once on the way there by a group of fans—even our attempt at scuttling through empty alleyways didn't work when five friends with Inhaler-themed cowboy-hats impeded our trail. They were lovely. Photos taken and compliments exchanged. Sadly, Bobby was in a bad mood. When I say a bad mood, I mean a 'I want to kill everyone on this planet and throw myself on a train track' kind of bad mood. He hid away from the fans, behind me and Nieve. His height wasn't particularly helpful in that instant. The blonde, 'Amelie', had said in her thick French accent, "Is that Bobby? I was wondering where he was."

Caught. Found. He thought staying there for a while longer would make them think he wasn't there at all. Amelie was persistent, however, and said softly, "Please could I take a picture with you?" 

Her friends all started whispering. Eli was tapping his friend on the shoulder to get him to move. He was frozen. Eli frowned and shook his head. 

"Sorry but Rob's being a bit weird today," Josh explained. "I don't think he wants any photos."

Amelie nodded, but the sadness in her eyes was apparent. "That's okay."

I felt bad for the girl. I turned around, looked at Bobby. He was on his phone. Scrolling through Tiktok still crouched down. A quick look at his phone screen showed me that he was watching edits — edits of himself. I had to take a double take to actually believe what I'd just seen. He was staring at clips of himself, smiling, and wouldn't even stand for five seconds next to a girl who'd paid to see his band. He continued to swipe his thumb against the screen, blue eyes lit up by his bright phone.

Then his eyes caught mine and he closed the Tiktok tab. "You didn't see that, did you?" He worriedly spoke so unbelievably quickly, I had to scramble my brain to decipher the words. His smile flipped upside down. Shock written all over him. Blush rising right up to the tips of his ears. 

"The hell is wrong with you?" I muttered. Nieve heard. She stepped away. She did not want to be involved in whatever the two of us were plotting. 

"What's wrong with me?" He breathed. It's like he was asking himself the question but there was an unyielding harshness to his voice, raspy and agitated. I was sure that this argument was going to be just as bad as the Sid Vicious incident, or worse. Halloween Bobby was on a different wavelength — bordering on depravity.

"You're watching fucking Tiktok edits of yourself. Didn't think you could be that self-centered—"

"Can we not do this now? Please?" Bobby tried to get me to calm down. Amelie and her friends were still only metres away, asking Josh about the tour, about the next album. Fran was listening in. She was smiling to herself. Part of her definitely enjoyed the beef between us. 

"Show me your Tiktok."

"No."

"Now."

He sighed. I grabbed his phone, opened Tiktok straight away. His whole 'For You' page was edits of himself. The account he was on was a fake user account. I couldn't believe my eyes.

"What the hell..." Was all I could manage to say.

"I can explain."

"Can you? Go on then."

He didn't say anything. Took his phone back and kicked the brick wall beside him. He shook his phone around like he was going to throw it as well. That wouldn't change anything. I'd seen the worst of it — at least I hoped I'd seen the worst of it.

"Take that photo with those girls and I'll shut up about this." I gave him an option. A way to let him get out of the hole he'd dug for himself. 

He was so tall. Sometimes I forgot that. But there, back straight, no longer slouched and his neck craned to meet my eyes. I couldn't hold eye contact. His clenched jaw was making me nervous. 

"Fine." He finally concluded the argument with a single word. His index finger then pointed towards me, just beneath my neck. "But you don't tell anyone about this."

I grinned. "I promise." 

Stepping over towards Amelie, he smiled widely, put an arm over her shoulder and allowed Fran to take the picture of the group. Moments later he was complaining about his shoes. How they were too small. If Robert Keating had a chance to complain about anything, he'd take it and wouldn't shut up about it. I just knew at that point that we'd be hearing about his shoes for the rest of the day.  

Tension is thick in the restaurant. I can almost taste it in my mouth. Rob sits beside me. I don't want to look at him, don't want to hear him talk, don't want to have anything to do with him. He's only the only person I won't miss once this tour is over.

Before anyone can get a word out, Eli taps his fork against his glass. All eyes fall to him. Grace is next to him, she's appeared out of nowhere. 

"I just want to say thank you to Nieve, Fran, Lucia, Finn and Matt for being such great openers on our tour. We're so grateful for all of you. This wouldn't have been the same without you."

"Aw, Eli, I might cry a bit, please stop." Nieve shakes her head, holding her napkin to her eyes. "This has been such a dream. We should be thanking you for giving us this opportunity."

"We need to do this again sometime." Ryan pitches in. "Next time we tour, you're coming with us."

"Yeah. That would be grand," Josh exclaims, pulling up his pint of Guinness and crashing it against everyone else's.

Bobby, after all his hours of complaining, has gone back to silent, angry mode. Playing around with his fork, he stares blankly at the menu, fingers tracing the lettering. I watch him as the others melt into conversation. I just want to know what is going through his head. Why is he acting like this? Last week, he was fun to be around and we had a good time. Especially when he's drunk, he loosens up a bit and stops with the facade. He even kissed me once. As a joke. I think.

It was a mess of alcohol. A 'midnight tour bus party'. We were in London and instead of going to the hotel, we ended up spending the night in the lovely green tour bus. We all got so drunk we could hardly speak. I can't remember all that we got up to but when we were sobering up, Bobby dragged me outside of the bus. He gave me his jacket, placed it over my shoulders. We sat down on a random doorstep, hugging each other to keep warm. Two penguins. Two people who usually hated eachothers guts, finding comfort in the warmth that emanated from our bodies. I'd never thought his hair was nice until that moment. How it grazed over my neck. How the curls twisted perfectly and his overgrown mullet framed his face. Or how pretty his eyes were as they shone under streetlights. Dreamy, long eyelashes, sea-like waves. He'd kissed me. His long fingers over my cheeks. His pink lips slotting between mine. I pulled away, shocked. Electricity had sparked between us, my heart was pounding, my body was a torch. Then I ran away from him. I couldn't understand what If just felt. I had never seen him in that way. We never mentioned it again.

Maybe that's what has made him colder. I still haven't acknowledged what happened that night. I keep thinking that he was too drunk to even remember it, but maybe he does. I'm not going to bring it up. Especially now. Especially in this restaurant with everyone sat with us.

"I'm sorry, Lucia."

My heart drops. Bobby is looking at me. Downcast. Entire state is disjointed. His mouth just said that, his brain just formulated those words. 

"What?" I must've heard him wrong. Imagining it. This time I must be hallucinating.

"I'm sorry about that night."

Mindreader. He knew what I was thinking about. What my mind has been lingering on. The weather reminds me, his scent reminds me, his hands remind me, his jacket reminds me. That night. London. The night after Troxy. The wind — cut-throat, sharp, steely — the rain, and my tear-stained bedsheets. The taste of his mouth and the dejction locked into his eyes as I left him. Like I'd made a terrible mistake. Like running into my hotel room, alone, was the worst possible option I could've chosen. 

I'm wearing the same earrings as I did that night — these ribbon ones that a fan made for me. Bobby had pointed them out — which he shifted between his fingertips and said they suited me. He's eyeing them now, hands curving, resisting any urge to touch them again, to drag us back to that moment. 

The waiter takes my order. Bobby's words properly forage the depths of my mind, the veins and the arteries circling around my body, the aching crevices of my heart. I ask for the first thing I see on the menu and a Fanta. I want to stay sober. I want to savour all that will happen beyond this second. Bobby also doesn't get alcohol. Shockingly. The Bobby I know would never turn down a pint of Guinness. But he gets a 7up instead and takes a long, hard gulp of it when the waiter comes back. I'm counting the cracks on the table, how squeaky the chair is, the coffee stain on the ceiling — trying to guess how they managed to get up there. Musicians like to occupy their brains. They don't like to think too much - just do. 

"I'm sorry..." I whisper. Finally giving him a reponse after a long pause for thought. 

He had been waiting for an answer. He catches it. Twists uneasily in his seat. Wood creaks. Rain patters.

"...It was wrong of me to leave you." The image of his despair still rings through my bones. I swear when my cells divide they keep trying to recreate that look on his face.

"I shouldn't have..." his voice lowers, heat pf his mouth glides by my ear "...kissed you."

I'm trying to drink my Fanta with no reaction. Sugary greatness. Cold, slightly wet fingers. Orangey flavouring. But his voice is so low, trickling, burning, goosebump-inducing. I can't look at him. He's too close to me. It's too hot in the restaurant. Soundcheck is in 20 minutes. I want to run away again. I always want to run away. 

Down my Fanta, smooth my skirt, breathe in deeply. 

"I liked it." I similarly glide my lips over his ear when he's least expecting it, returning the favour.

He coughs. Chokes a bit on his drink. Then he eats his Pesto pasta with the pinkest neck I've ever seen on a person. Jacket off to reveal long, tattoo-covered arms, and the muscles that have progressively been getting bigger over the months. I join Ryan and Matt's drummer conversation to stop staring. It's weird. Being attracted to him feels wrong. Teenage Lucia would be ashamed. She’d slap some sense into me.

Dinner ends quickly. We're thrusted back into Dublin air before we can even adjust to the complete switch in environment. Running to the venue, through alleyways, shooting splashes of water all over the place, we realise how late we are. I feel better than I did in the morning. That dreaded train ride. Bobbys giving me the silent treatment again. I hate it. I hate it more than when he's being downright horrible to me. 

-

Our set was unbelievable. The best show I've ever done. The crowd was unreal, the size of the place was absurd. We had never sounded so great. Everything went according to plan. We're crying now that we're offstage. We need something to uplift us. Nieve's idea is to party in the back. Which is one of the best parts of the night.

We find a spot just before Inhaler goes on. Screams bleed through the room, adoration written in teenage faces, phones held up to capture the moment. The five lads on stage. One final time. I scream like I'm sixteen all over again, dancing as the first song 'These Are The Days' begins to play. Shouting along, throwing my hands in the air. I don't think I've ever been so happy and fulfilled before.

The setlist is the usual. I didn't expect them to change it. Eli gives a little 'thank you' speech, mentioning us at the end. Then suddenly encore starts and I'm met by a mildly unfamiliar song. The crowd seems just as confused as I am. Bobby is wearing that stupid black vest and I swear his bass has been lowered all the more. The next time they perform, it'll surely be grazing the floor. 

Bobby doesn't normally speak to the crowd at shows. It's always Eli. But as they play the intro, he begins to speak, "Hi everyone. Hope you're all having a good time." Commotion, screams, chanting 'Bobby' as if it's a cult gathering, not a concert. His eyes are searching through the crowd. The party in the back turned into moshpits and luckily I got pushed near to the front. His eyes land on mine. I can tell he's looking at when he plays with his earring — like it's a code between us. He keeps playing the same few notes on the bass lazily as he grabs the mic stand. Everyone is silent and listening as he says, "This is 'You Might Get What You Want'.

I recognise it now. I'm sent back to high school. 6 years ago. Practice room at school. Instrument cases strewn all over tha place, broken drumsticks leant against the wall. I'm sat at the piano as Bobby announces, "This is a new song I wrote." He passes me the chords starts singing. My thoughts are quiet. The external world is too loud for me to think. I'm lost in the music. The song is beautiful — lyrics, chords, arrangement, Bobby's voice. That was the day when I wanted to ask to join the band. Then Bobby was horrible to me so I changed my mind. I even asked him what the song was about. He looked at the Jim Morrison poster on the door, hand against his buzzed head as he thought up a response. "A girl," was his final conclusion. I thanked him for his specificity. He told me, quite frustratedly, it was 'none of my business'. Then he was riled up and told me to leave because I was 'playing it all wrong'. One of the last times I ever played with the band. So when I hear the song again — I'm back, sitting at the piano with my school uniform, waiting for cues to play the next chord.

The crowd goes wild at the fact that Bobby is singing alone. This is unusual. The majority of the crowd don't know the song. Reminds me of their first gigs in tiny venues. I sing along, staring at Bobby as he stares back. I wonder which girl the song was actually about. At seventeen, he hung out with every girl in sight - parties, random town meetups, gigs. The way he is looking at me is shattering me down to my core — eyes painted with affection and how he keeps moving his earring. For some reason, I wish the song is about me. Then he sings, 'You Might Get What You Want' whilst pointing right at me. Has anyone else noticed his staring? Nieve and Fran seem clueless. It could all be in my head. His face appears on the screen. I stare. Not ashamed. Appreciating his beauty for as long as we have left. Only tonight. Then nothing. Only the possibility of seeing eachother once again. It won't be set in stone.

I'm a sweaty mess by the end of the show. Last goodbyes, last waves, last shocked stares at the extent of the crowd. I always forget how boiling it gets in the standing area. I'm almost at the point of suffocating. We leave with the crowd, taking a few selfies with fans along the way. I stand in the merch queue. I need something to remember this. Something I can keep and wear and just be brought back to this venue, to this atmosphere. I buy a black tour shirt with the bubbly lettering, slipping it over my tank top. I just know the change in temperature will murder me. The more layers I have on, the better.

We slip through the crowd. Thankfully, it's quieter after my long time in the merch queue. I'd never seen such a long amalgamation of people. 

Back at the hotel, I crash straight down onto my bed. Don't even turn on the lights or take off my clothes. I just close my eyes and stretch out my body like a cat. It all happened too quickly. I left the band early to head back, although I heard the rest of them were going to the tour bus to get drunk. I've already had so much fun. I just need to relax. Alone time. Silence. Comfort.

A knock on the door.

I jump up. Still in my Inhaler shirt and lacy white skirt, I feel like taking a shower. But whoever just knocked has impeded any plans. I could just pretend I didn't hear them. I could fall asleep and they'll just walk away. 

Another knock. I jolt up this time. It's louder.

This time I reach the door. Sliding the keyhole open, I see him. Of course it's him. Of course. Of all the people that could be here right now. His hair is wet, mussed up. He's holding his jacket under his arm as it's completely drenched. Looking from side to side, he seems to contemplate giving up and leaving me solitary.

I open the door. Let my guard down. I want to talk. Rant. Let out all the garble mixing up and stuffing my skull. He'd listen to me. 

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I don't say it rudely. Make sure to keep my tone quiet and curious. The rise of his head to meet my eyes is almost film-like, tracing along my skin, photographic.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come in then." 

Close the door behind him. He drops his jacket onto the floor. Slides off those shoes with a groan. They really are too small on him. He can hardly untie the laces without sucking in a quick breath. He looks at himself in the dodgy mirror, trying to fix any flying pieces of hair. His beard is growing a little — little moustache fading in above his mouth.

He sits down on a chair by the table.  His lengthy legs reach up to the end of the bed where I'm sat. He picks up a tea bag, sniffs it then puts it back. I'm worried about what he's about to say. He looks like he's gone through hell and back to get here. I've never seen him so dishevelled. 

"You were amazing today." I hate the silence. I fill it up. "You all get better every time."

He's been so serious since he came in but the ghost of a smile haunts his lips. They twitch then fall. "So do you."

“Is this about your weird For You page because I’m pretty fucking worried.” I’m trying to forget I saw any of those edits. 

“It’s not that.” He shakes his head. He's hugging his chest, arms shivering. My eyes narrow. Each hair on his arm is stood to attention.

"Do you want a blanket?" I'm about to look for something to warm him up when his hand clasps around my wrist. He's stood up. I'm sat down, looking up at him. His thumb traces the inside of my wrist, over a bracelet I have. One that he gave me when I was sixteen. A friendship bracelet he'd brought to one of the rehearsal sessions. I wore it just to get a reaction out of him. This is the first time he’s noticed it. 

I want to ask him what he's doing. But then he's sat next to me with his arms around my body and I forget what I was going to say. 

"Robert..." I don't normally say his full name. It's the only word that's coming to mind. His wet hair is dripping all over my skirt, his head is against my chest, he won't look up at me.

When I pick up his face, stretch my hands over his cheeks, I find his crystal eyes glossed over. Tears. He's crying. I don't know how to react. He buries his head back into the crook of my neck like he's embarrassed. Then he's breathing heavily. Heaving. Sniffling.

"What is it?" I whisper. I stroke every inch of his hair, the nape of his neck, the thin material of his vest. I trace the tattoos on his arm. Finally landing on the music notation inked into his wrist.

"I don't want you to leave." He holds onto my waist, under my shirt, cold skin. "Stay here. With me. Please."

I wipe the tears from his face. I must look like a beetroot. I'm boiling. 

"Really?" I think I'm crying as well. I can't help it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him so unguarded, so helpless.

"I only sang that song so you'd hear it." He looks up at the ceiling, cogs turning in his brain. "It's not just about a girl. It's about you."

"You're kidding." I have to laugh. 

"I'm not. I wrote it during the summer holidays before high school. I had some weird thought that you were going to call me and ask me out. I was always a prick to you so I don't know where that idea was coming from exactly. It's just when you want something so badly—I guess your brain manifests it into reality. Like every time I turned around a corner, I thought you'd magically appear. I thought you'd say that you liked me. But then you went off to Uni, the band got big. And now this. You're in fucking Nieve Ella's band. I thought I was going to throw up when I saw you get out of the train. Everything just came back. I didn't put the song on the album because every time I hear it, I just remember what an idiot I am for not treating you well and for not telling you how I feel. Singing it brought me back to the practice room, to that shitty piano with pedals falling off the hinges. How you made such a disgusting piano sound divine. I don't want to make the same mistake. If I let you go now, I'll be regretting it for the rest of my life."

"So you were looking at me? When you were singing?" I tilt my head, thumb below his eye. 

"I might have been." He's not crying anymore. His voice is less rough. He sounds like normal Bobby again.

"I'll stay with you. As long as you want."

"Forever?"

"Bit too long. I can only deal with you for about three hours at a time."

"Then we should make good use of the—" He looks down at his watch. "—Two hours and 43 minutes we have left."

"What do you have planned?" I'm getting closer to him. His nose bumps against mine.

"What do you want to do, Luz?" He's challenging me. Thumb swirling over my lips. 

"This." I kiss him. Lips to lips. Two notes in perfect harmony. Everything we've been through culminating into one simple kiss. It's a peck. A tease. I pull away as I feel him yank me closer. 

His hands find my ears and it's like that night again. His mouth tastes the same. Sweet. Lukewarm. He still grazes my bottom lip with his teeth when he feels me shift back. 

"You're an angel," he says.

At that, I'm kissing him again. This time with more passion. Exploding fireworks. Jumping into the ocean, water floating around you. The ringing in your eyes after an explosion. An earthquake. A tidal wave. So many feelings at once. He's trying to take my shirt off. I let him. Pulled it over my head so quickly I thought he might get my neck off as well. He throws it onto the nearby chair, looking at me, with those glimmering eyes and perfect eyebrows. Beauty spots and smooth skin. I attempt to take off his shirt too, although it's pretty much stuck to his chest. He helps me out, laughing at my stress. 

"It's not that hard." He smirks, tugging at the top as I manage to unstick the bottom. 

"Fuck off." I roll my eyes. 

He pushes me down onto the bedsheets, helping me up until my head is on the pillow. I look over his frame. Long torso, large biceps, chain around his neck. It's too much to deal with. Hooded eyes, smirk on his lips, happy trail leading down to his belt. He knows how he's making me dizzy. He leans down, curling over me, scent hanging, cool skin against mine. I throw my head back. I've never been touched like this. So precise. So gentle. Like I'm his favourite bass guitar. I'd never noticed how long his fingers were until they were splayed over my bra, until the other hand was sliding up my thigh.

He kisses my neck, my shoulders, my collarbones, the valley between my breasts, tongue flat, teeth sharp. I hold onto his hair, then onto his toned shoulders. This morning, I would never have expected that this would happen. That the boy I loathed was admiring me and tasting me with unrelenting adoration. Now, the thought of leaving him makes me sick to my stomach. I pull him a little closer, kiss him a little harder and remember just how red teenage Bobby's face was after he'd sang that song to me. How defensive he was when I asked him about it. Now it all makes sense.

I won't ever leave him again.

#robert keating #bobby skeetz #inhaler dublin #inhaler band #inhaler imagines #inhaler fanfiction #fanfiction #inhaler oneshots #elijah hewson #josh jenkinson #ryan mcmahon #nieve ella #inhaler fanfic #inhaler #eli hewson #robert keating fanfiction #bobby skeetz fanfiction #louis lambo #inhaler imagine #fanfics

[your-absent-father]

Hihi get it? Because Eve is my name-

Okay, in all seriousness, hi to old friends. It's been a while. Almost half a year it seems. I took too much pressure on this thing which should have been like a hobby and not... like work. We aren't getting paid to do this so I want my free time to be escapist and fun and not another reason to fall into previous habits.

I am rambling. The tldr is that I am on my rebrand and self care era after a year of disappointment after disappointment so I want to do something fun and have fun.

Who am I?

I am... people on here call me Eve, but I have juggling around new pen names I could start using, mainly because my last one I have used ever since middle school. So, you can call me Eve, but don't wonder if you see other names popping up like Alina Ellis and E.V May that are now the top runners up.

I am queer, probably more neurodivergent than diagnosed but I am too broke to get tested. I live in Finland. I am 22 years old and right now I am trying to get my papers to be a full time teacher's aid, and maybe apply to study to be a elementary school teacher.

I love K-pop, especially stray kids and (g)-idle, classical literature, media about problematic women doing problematic stuff, Taylor Jenkins Reed's historical books, pretending to watch indie movies even tough I would rather just watch musicals on loop.

As a writer, I love to write some good angst. I have recently tried to write some more positive stories and just have fun but I can have fun while writing some pain. I really love complex female lead that has that delicious female rage in her. I also almost always have at least one lesbian couple or/and wholesome guy with a girlboss woman.

my WIPs

Drafting

All the great love stories

Six love stories all different in nature. An evil sorceress waiting for her turn in the steak falling in love with her guard. Cabaret performer seducing the police officer and getting more that she barganded for. Children of rival mob bosses falling in love. Two soulmates trying to find each other. Mad scientist trying to keep their lover alive. Girl with unbeliavable power who can't seem to die. All of the stories are different but they all have one faithful similarity: All of the stories end in a tragedy.

intropost

all writing in one

Tag: WIP: ATGLS

False Gods

the story of Beatrix Jones, the lead singer of the rising indie rock band Aurora Four. With fame and success on the rise, Beatrix and her bandmates navigate the music industry while keeping their identities hidden behind masks, a decision made after a scandal threatened their careers. Is the hid indentity worth the criminal activity they tangled themselves in.

Tag: WIP: FG

intropost

all the writing in one

The vanishing act

a mystery thriller about a mystical carnival whose employees seem all to be identical to missing people trough out the years, and haven't aged a day even if 100 years have gone by. After year of gaslighting, Amanda witnesses her best friend and her mother, looking almost same age, in the circus performing.

Tag: WIP: Circus Moirai

intopost

All the writing in one

Mika Connelly VS the power of love

Mika Connelly never thought something like this cpuld happen to her. After pissing off a fortune teller, who was secretly Cupid in disguise, Mika Connelly is forced to live in a teen romance novel so Cupid can prove that everyone falls in love at least someone. Problem is, Mika is aroace, so romance is final thing she could think about.

To escape her rose colored prison, Mika makes a deal with cupid. Cupid has 20 chances to make Mija fall in love. Mika's mission on the other hand, is to make her new love interest not in love with her anymore. If she fails, she is trapped eternally as a high school senior in a warpped version of her old high school.

Intropost

On the shelve rn:

Children of Jessamine

Fantasy story about a queen who has to make a choice between betraying her country to join her husbands enemy, or protecting her son while the time is ticking. People might soon find out, the crown prince isn't the kings child

intopost

Also I have couple on hiatus that some people might remember. I think I'll come back to them at some point.

What I am doing on tumblr?

I am not probably going to be that active on ask games and all of those but I do want to do stuff and be creative so I have couple of ideas that maybe could be fun.

I want to do trailers for my wips. I want to edit again and I don't vibe with any fandom where I could do the edits I want

fake scenes from the books as edits too

more organized stuff

I just want to be creative without putting pressure on myself.

Other tags:

Eve Rambling: My random ramblings

Eve venting: If I need to vent

Eve being creative: creative stuff other than writing

other people's x: Other people's writeblr

So... Sorry for the essay lmao. But feel free to messenge me. I'll follow back. Let's have some fun!

#writeblr #writeblr introduction #writeblr reintro #Eve rambling

[scotianostra]

Happy Birthday Scottish actor Richard Madden born June 18th 1986 in Elderslie.

Richard was raised by his mother, Pat, a classroom assistant and his father, Richard, who worked for the fire service. He also has two sisters, Cara and Lauren.

His parents were “hippies”, he says, and their house was pretty open, with friends always piling in for big vegetarian meals. Madden spent a lot of time outside, in the woods behind their house. He has several injuries: he shows me where he shot his dad’s old air pistol and blew off part of his finger, then managed to wreck the same finger when he nailed a wooden plank to his skateboard, then crashed it, so apart from the Hippie parents it was much like most of our own days as bairns.

Despite growing up wanting to be an actor, Richard was very shy during his childhood. To overcome this, at age 11, he joined Paisley Arts Centre’s youth theatre program. In 1999 he was given the lead role as Sebastian Simpkins in BBC1’s children’s TV comedy series Barmy Aunt Boomerang, that’s him aged 12 in the first pic with co-star Toyah Wilcox.. By 2000, he’d made his feature film debut in the Iain Banks adaptation, Complicity.

After high school he was accepted to the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in Glasgow, Scotland and in 2007, he graduated.

Less than two years later, Richard had a recurring role as Dean McKenzie on the 2009 BBC series Hope Springs. Soon after, he landed the role of Ripley in the 2010 movie Chatroom, a film about a group of teenagers who encourage each other’s bad behaviours after meeting online. In the same year, Richard played punk band Theatre of Hate singer Kirk Brandon in Worried About the Boy, a TV film about the life of British singer-songwriter Boy George.

In 2011 Richard landed his breakthrough role as Robb Stark in the HBO fantasy-drama series Game of Thrones. Also in 2011, he played gay paramedic Ashley Greenwick on the short-lived British comedy-drama Sirens. During hiatus from filming Game of Thrones in 2013, Richard was cast to star as Prince Charming in the 2015 Disney film Cinderella.

Richard won his first Screen Actors Guild award in 2014 for the Discovery Channel mini-series, Klondike. He played Bill Haskell, one of two adventurers who travel to Yukon, Canada during the Klondike Gold Rush in the 1890s. He further enhanced his reputation as a good actor when he appeared in the BBC drama Bodyguard in 2018, the following year he played Lieutenant Joseph Blake in the film 2017 and was Elton John’s manager/lover in the biop of the star Rocketman.

In January 2019 Madden won  a prestigious Golden Globe for his role as war veteran David Budd in the BBC show Bodyguard. He also appeared in the 2019 war movie 1917.

We last saw Richard in the movie,  Eternals, which was okay, but nothing great, he is one of several actors being touted as the next James Bond,

James is currently in the Amazon Prime series Citadel, I've watched the first three episodes and am not really impressed with it,I think he does pull of the American accent well, but I noticed there have been people saying he doesn't pull it off, Madden revealed he spoke in the accent for two years straight to prepare for the series. The show has been earmarked for a second series. Richard is set to appear in the feature film Killer Heat next.

In July 2019, Madden received an honorary doctorate from his alma mater, the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland. When asked about his personal life during a New York Times interview following speculation about his relationships and sexuality, Madden stated: “I just keep my personal life personal.”

Madden was recently named one of ‘Scotland’s Sexiest Men'  following a new study that identifies the most attractive features for men, he has competition though,  also in the running are Bathgate’s David Tennant  and Glasgow’s James McAvoy,

#scotland #scottish #actor #television #cinema #happy birhtday

[tammyonvinyl]

who’s that? oh it’s TAMMY THOMPSON. i hear they’re TWENTY ONE and are known as THE SMALLTOWN STARLET around NASHVILLE. they’re also a CONCESSION WORKER at THE HAWK CINEMA. they’re known to be OPTIMISTIC & SELF-CONFIDENT and NAIVE & UNREALISTIC. some people say they remind them of AN OLD RECORD PLAYER PLAYING DOLLY PARTON, SHOULDER PADS, A SHOEBOX UNDER YOUR BED CONTAINING A SECRET STASH OF HORROR MOVIES & MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD SUMMERS SPENT IN GEORGIA.

FULL NAME: tammy teresa thompson GENDER/PRONOUNS: cis female; she/her AGE: twenty one BIRTHDAY: december 4th HEIGHT:  5′2″ OCCUPATION: concession worker at hawk cinema & upcoming singer-songwriter. LIKES: country music, long walks, summer heat, comfortable shoes, the muppet show, performing, slasher films, dancing in her room to her favorite mixtapes, denim jackets, complimenting girls on their makeup and outfits in public bathrooms. ORIENTATION: closeted lesbian

 In high school, Tammy knew she was going to be a star. Music brought her a joy that nothing else could, country music especially. Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn were the most wonderful women to ever grace this earth as far as she was concerned. She auditioned for school plays with songs in hopes they’d put on a musical (they never did) and wrote songs lyrics down in her notebooks during her math classes and saved up to make her way to Nashville the moment she graduated. While she knew her dreams were big, she wasn’t allowing anyone to stand in her way.

 While Tammy is a lover of country & western, Atlanta summers and fashion magazines; she keeps her biggest love a secret. Horror films. She loved trying to work out how the blood & gore were created and imagining how she would escape. There was nothing like the rush of adrenaline she got from a jumpscare and a man in a creepy mask. Perhaps if she had been paying attention to all that weird stuff that had been going on in Hawkins her Senior Year she would be less inclined to watch all the slashers she does, but alas, Tammy remained blissfully ignorant.

 Tammy had a very typical romantic history for a young woman. She had high school beaux, she took a nice boy to prom, she let him get to second base in his car afterwards. She was also a lesbian. But homosexuality didn’t sell, she knew that, and she wasn’t going to lose her opportunity in Nashville because of something she didn’t even want to be a part of. So, she gave big, warm smiles to boys like Steve Harrington and wrote songs about being in love with men and hoped that no one tried to analyze anything too much.

 After making the move to Nashville following graduation, Tammy was able to find herself regular gigs at a nice lil’ motel alongside an up-and-coming band in need of a singer. Tammy & The Southern Suns were really gonna make it one day! Well, at least Tammy and her parents thought so! But with her manager on maternity leave, Tammy’s back in Hawkins for the time being and selling popcorn at Hawk Cinema four nights a week. Fingers crossed that nothing weird happens!

PLAYLIST: LISTEN HERE.

#tag. ABOUT

[backtohawkins]

WELCOME BACK TO HAWKINS, TAMMY THOMPSON (meg donnelly fc)

good luck and have a bitchin’ summer!

[MEG DONNELLY, CIS WOMAN, SHE/HER] who’s that? oh it’s [TAMMY THOMPSON]. i hear they’re [TWENTY ONE] and are known as [THE SMALLTOWN STARLET] around [NASHVILLE]. they’re also a [CONCESSION WORKER] at [THE HAWK CINEMA]. they’re known to be [OPTIMISTIC & SELF-CONFIDENT] and [NAIVE & UNREALISTIC]. some people say they remind them of [AN OLD RECORD PLAYER PLAYING DOLLY PARTON, SHOULDER PADS, A SHOEBOX UNDER YOUR BED CONTAINING A SECRET STASH OF HORROR MOVIES & MEMORIES OF CHILDHOOD SUMMERS SPENT IN GEORGIA]. [facie, 22, she/her, n/a, aest]

  PLEASE LIST 3-5 DETAILED HEADCANONS

  In high school, Tammy knew she was going to be a star. Music brought her a joy that nothing else could, country music especially. Dolly Parton and Loretta Lynn were the most wonderful women to ever grace this earth as far as she was concerned. She auditioned for school plays with songs in hopes they’d put on a musical (they never did) and wrote songs lyrics down in her notebooks during her math classes and saved up to make her way to Nashville the moment she graduated. While she knew her dreams were big, she wasn’t allowing anyone to stand in her way. 

  While Tammy is a lover of country & western, Atlanta summers and fashion magazines; she keeps her biggest love a secret. Horror films. She loved trying to work out how the blood & gore were created and imagining how she would escape. There was nothing like the rush of adrenaline she got from a jumpscare and a man in a creepy mask. Perhaps if she had been paying attention to all that weird stuff that had been going on in Hawkins her Senior Year she would be less inclined to watch all the slashers she does, but alas, Tammy remained blissfully ignorant.

  Tammy had a very typical romantic history for a young woman. She had high school beaux, she took a nice boy to prom, she let him get to second base in his car afterwards. She was also a lesbian. But homosexuality didn’t sell, she knew that, and she wasn’t going to lose her opportunity in Nashville because of something she didn’t even want to be a part of. So, she gave big, warm smiles to boys like Steve Harrington and wrote songs about being in love with men and hoped that no one tried to analyze anything too much.

  After making the move to Nashville following graduation, Tammy was able to find herself regular gigs at a nice lil’ motel alongside an up-and-coming band in need of a singer. Tammy & The Southern Suns were really gonna make it one day! Well, at least Tammy and her parents thought so! But with her manager on maternity leave, Tammy’s back in Hawkins for the time being and selling popcorn at Hawk Cinema four nights a week. Fingers crossed that nothing weird happens!

#accepted #tammy thompson

[burnedbyshoto]

bakugou leaving reader for the unknown, for his dream, because where they were wasn’t good enough, it was a hindrance on his future. it wasn’t so much that he hated his hometown, the people, or even you — he loved you, after all — but he just could never keep himself tied down to the place he was trying to outgrow.

he leaves for university, in the big city, a campus that is known for making the best, creating trailblazers in every field imaginable, and when he leaves at the age of eighteen, he doesn’t come back. all he remembers is the shocked look on your face and the helpless tears streaming down your face when he broke up with you.

it’s been twelve years, and he’s thirty now. he changed his number when he got to the new city, only keeping touch with his parents out of obligation than anything else. it’s short phone calls, three minute conversations of mitsuki scolding him for not calling enough, for never visiting, masaru trying to gently express their concerns for their only son, and of course, bakugou saying he needs to leave.

his parents are strangers to him, practically, and whenever they try to speak of his past life, the one he exchanged away for the current CEO position he’s found himself in, he hangs up. he doesn’t want to hear it, he doesn’t want the bitter pit in his stomach when they even begin to speak your name.

but they haven’t mentioned you in years.

but the thing about katsuki is, unfortunately, his attitude.

thirty years old and a prominent CEO of a company no older than four years old and yet already a billionaire? practically unheard of. sure, people, normal people, praise him for it, but the board? men who used to people like katsuki don’t praise him.

they hate his harsh attitude, his ridiculous will power, and necessity to do everything, and somehow… katsuki gets put on a leave of absence for a minimum of a year.

at first, it’s fine. bakugou spends the newfound free time traveling, seeing the world, doing things he never was able to because he was building his empire. but three months of nothing leads him to grow restless, bored, and the worst feeling in the world crawls into the pit of his stomach and he realizes in month number five what it is.

for the first time in his life, bakugou katsuki is: homesick.

so he goes home, trading the concrete jungle and modern technology for dirt roads and rusting machines. it’s just for a moment, he says as he sees the life he left behind ages ago.

it’s much slower in his hometown, people much more open and conversing with one another instead of cellphones like he’s grown used to. he isn’t quite ready to knock on his mother’s front door so he goes to the general store and walks straight to where he just knows his past time favorite snacks are.

to his total surprise (notice the sarcasm?) it’s right where he remembered it was through the cobwebs of his memory. there’s one bag of spicy corn chips left and as he reached for it, another hand goes for it too.

he freezes for a bit, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at the person who’s hand is connected to the bag of chips he wants.

but he stops breathing for just a moment.

it’s a young girl, most definitely no older than twelve, with your face. it’s exactly the same. but unlike you, the girl had ash blonde hair and deep red eyes.

the girl blinks eyes looking taken back and slightly lost, as does bakugou, and then as if finally caught up on the situation of things, she scowls.

“hands off the chips, old man! I got here first!”

the magic is gone and bakugou feels his eye twitch as he reels backward.

“what the hell did you just say to—?!”

“I said hands off! arent you too old to be eating chips anyways?! you’re practically a million years old, eat the lame corn nuts or something,” she scoffs rolling her eyes as she tucks the bag of chips under her arm.

“aren’t you some shitty little brat!” bakugou hisses, his hand twitching with irritation. “don’t you know to respect your fucking elders.”

“ain’t nothing to respect from what I can tell!”

“aiko, hurry up,” a voice bemoans from behind the aisle and bakugou feels his chest constrict in the weirdest, most heart aching way as you walk around the corner with an armful of party supplies. “we have to get to your grand—”

bakugou stares at you, and you at him. the tension and silence so thick and heavy on the both of your shoulders and tongues.

in the twelve years he’s been away, bakugou has had other relationships. most of them due mostly to friends insistence, and others mostly just because he wanted a warm body nearby. but no one could ever match what you meant to him, not that he could have realized that because he could never think back to you. you were his past, not his present, not his future.

and bakugou was suddenly feeling a lot of things, thinking a lot of things as he looked between you and well… aiko.

“y/n,” bakugou’s voice is hollow, almost unbelievable. “i-is she — are we—?”

“this is my daughter, y/l/n aiko,” you say, steely calm and dangerous. the warm smile you were wearing moments ago clean off your face and your eyes were like glass — shiny, unemotional. “she was born after you left, so you never got a chance to meet her, did you?”

“y/n—“

“y/l/n!” you snap, face still void of emotions. “you don’t have that right anymore.”

bakugou stiffens for a moment, but he knows that you’re right. “y/l/n,” he tries again, your last name a word he’s never had to use in his entire life to address you. “how old is she?”

“mama,” aiko whispers, eyes glaring at bakugou as she stand protectively in front of you, fingers digging into your blouse. “I wanna go now.”

your eyes drop from bakugou, and he watches as a strained but kind smile is expressed to aiko as you press a kiss to her forehead. “okay, go pay for these things for me, will ya? tell tayo-sama we’ll pay him back tomorrow. i’m going to finish this conversation with… with my old classmate.”

aiko looks between you and bakugou, eyebrows furrowed with unsaid questions but she nods, grabbing the things from your arms and going to the cash register. bakugou keeps his gaze on the young girl until your fingers dig into his bicep and your pulling him into a corner that he had definitely made out with you in ages, lifetimes ago.

“what are you doing here?!” you hiss in a near terrible whisper, face frazzled and overwhelmed. “you’ve never been back home! what’s different?!”

“is she mine?!”

“no!” you shriek, fist hitting his chest. “she’s not yours! she’s mine! she’s not some claimable object you get to collect years later!”

bakugou stiffens but also feels like he melts with guilt under those words… youre right. he has no claim to her. all he did was give her life but it was a life where he was probably nothing more than an empty space in. but he looks at you, millions of emotions swimming through your watery eyes, and the snarl on your lips as you stand before him as if you could do anything.

“i’m… i’m sorry, you’re right,” bakugou says, lips pressing into a thin line.

“you shouldn’t have come back,” you laugh miserably, fingers massaging your temples. your tone is weak, defeated, as if for the first time in your life you felt the bottom of the pit. “why did you come back home?”

“mama!!!! let’s go already!!!” aiko whines by the entrance and you tremble in front of him before shaking your head.

“coming!” you call back to her.

bakugou steals another look at what is his daughter. a girl he never knew existed.

“do me a favor, bakugou,” you say passing him with small but domineering steps. “don’t do anything to make her suspect youre her father.”

it took a few hours, probably more, maybe less, but bakugou finally finds himself at his childhood home. he’s heart feeling like it was being swallowed as the front door opened and he saw his older mother and father standing at the entrance. bakugou couldn’t understand what they were saying as they welcomed him in, he could only notice how their home looked exactly the same… well except that the walls that were decorated with photos of him and only him were also covered with pictures of aiko.

“did you know?” bakugou asks before he can even say hello.

mitsuki stopped mid rant, her face moving from irritated mother to exasperated but pitiful silence.

“since she found out.”

“why didn’t you… why didn’t I know?”

“she tried telling you, called you multiple times only to be blocked,” masaru gently explains. “you always shut us down when we so much as mentioned her.”

“she even flew out there at one point but caught you making out with some dumb model too.” mitsuki inserts with a huff. “we tried, brat. you just…”

bakugou is silent, his heartbeat roaring in his ears at the thought of his initial monstrous attempt of deleting his past life. mitsuki sighs, sad and sullen.

“there was no point in telling you when you won’t listen.”

or the story of a one sided bitter ex as bakugou and reader are challenged at creating some semblance of a relationship because aiko pieces it together the moment they looked at each other. including a lot of angst, a six month time limit to rekindle a once in a lifetime love story because choosing between family and work is damn hard.

#I watched that one movie with the singer & his high school lover and was like how do I make this a story #this is all I can think of #lyssa doesnt shut up #bakugou x reader

[sicklscream]

𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃𝐒!

pairing . . . harry styles x fem!reader

summary . . . in which you are afraid of feelings and harry only wants to feel you wrapped around his arms

warnings . . . angst , vulgar words , alcohol abuse , denial

notes . . . i don’t know why this popped up but im in the mood for angst so here it is — i also half-assed this so it’s so bad and i’m sorry

LOVE IS A STRONG FEELING, a feeling one can either hope for or wish to never see. Love is something that can’t be explained, a way of actions shown by someone who cares for you deeply and only wants the truest of purity from you. Love is something that can never be broken, nor returned. But it can be forgotten. and for that, you vowed to never love anyone.

Your father taught you everything you needed to know about love and happiness. He taught you to never trust, only believe. He told you that in order for you to become a lover of someone, you needed to believe that they can fully put their hands in your own and love you. But never fully trust them, because before you know it, they can completely backfire and leave you in the dark.

You stood by your father’s words your entirety of life, you never fully put yourself into someone at a young age because you knew it wouldn’t last. High school relationships were just building blocks for the real thing, the real thing you would find in many years to come. You never fully put your trust into someone unless you knew they could fully love you, actions and all.

When you met Harry Styles in tenth grade, you knew that he would be the boy you would stand beside for the rest of time. He wasn’t too cocky, nor was he too shy. He was the perfect balance between extroverted and to himself. Harry is the type of boy to become your defender and your best friend at the same time. You stood by him through it all — when he became a famous singer at the age of 16, helping him through the suffering of being the spotlight, giving him relationship advice, being there when he went through heartbreaks — you were there through it all, and he loved you for that.

Harry hadn’t started looking at you differently until you announced your first official serious relationship. He knew about your troubles with love and how it was hard for you to commit to something, so when he heard about your serious relationship, he started to develop a sinking feeling in his chest that only broke it even more the moment he saw you kiss that boy.

You two shared an apartment throughout your college life and early adult years, and now that you had gotten into a relationship, he felt left out. you were always canceling friday night movie marathons and saturday spa days to hang out with this boy, you started becoming more distant in hopes of becoming even more to this unknown male harry never met. He hated how this boy took you from him, but he couldn’t say anything, because not only would that be selfish, but you also looked so happy.

The only thing Harry ever wanted for you was for you to be happy — and you finally were. As much as it pained him to see you happy with another man — a man he knew you didn’t truly love — he couldn’t just confess his love for you like that and expect you to feel the same. He’s had years to tell you that and it’s his fault that he didn’t.

All he wanted was for him to be the guy — the guy who gets to hold you at night, the guy who gets to keep you close and kiss you when you’re sad, he wants to be the guy to take you on fancy dinner dates and buy you flowers. Hs wanted everything with you, and while he knew it would never happen, it was good to dream about it.

Today was the first day in months that you had been available, and you were spending it watching 90’s tv shows and movies with harry on the couch. Laughs left your mouth every once in a while when a funny part would come on while you shoved popcorn in your mouth. and while Harry was watching it, his mind kept drifting off to how close your bodies were and how he could feel the heat radiating off of your skin.

He thought of what it would feel like for you to cuddle up into his side, how it would feel to have your lips hit his neck every so often and how it would feel to kiss you. He wanted to experience these things with you . . . and only you.

“Harry?” Your voice had drew him from his thoughts, he head moving to the side, seeing your slightly guilt-ridden face with your phone in your hand, the faint glimpse of the boy’s name shown in his peripheral, his heart already clenching. “So, I know this is our day, but Jeremy just invited me to dinner with his parents and I want to make a good first impression but I don’t want to make you feel left out or anything —”

Harry cut her off, stopping the tears from developing in his irises. “No, no, it’s-it’s fine. Um, yeah, just go . . . have fun.” He hated how pathetic he sounded, but he just cleared his throat and gave you a reassuring smile, your face lighting up. you jumped forward and gave him a hug, throwing him off track.

“Thank you, Harry! You’re always so supportive. I’ll bring you something back, okay?” Before he could respond, you were already darting off to your room, your spot now empty on the couch and the abandoned bowl of popcorn now laying on his lap, the tv still playing. It felt weird, how his heart felt like it dropped and his stomach twisted. If he hadn’t known any better, he would have said he was sick. But he knew it was anything but, he knew that he was heartbroken, and he hated it.

Harry had decided to watch the show himself, not letting his bruised heart get the best of him and letting the humor of the half-assed show take over. He ignored the giggles and the sound of the boy’s muffled voice coming from your room. He ignored the crack in his heart with every second. He ignored the feeling to cry and break down. And he ignored the warnings of his anger, just to see you happy.

When you had walked out of your room, wearing the most beautiful blue dress, he couldn’t help but stare in awe. He knew it was a new dress as he hadn’t seen it before, but he also knew it was a dress the boy got you, which made him hate it just a little. But, ignoring that, he smiled your way when you asked him if he liked it.

“You look beautiful, Y/N/N.” His fond expression gave you a sense of warmth, your hands coming to mess with your hair as you looked into your reflection through the mirror next to the front door, grabbing your purse and your jacket before finally saying goodbye and walking out the door with a smile, not knowing of the frown that took over the man’s face as you locked the door.

Harry hadn’t let his heart get to him, but the ever growing numbness in his lungs kept progressing, leaving him crying silently as he laid on the couch. His hand unknowingly found his phone, his mind dialing his mum’s number before he knew it, and the soft soothing voice of anne flowing through his ears just a second later.

“Harry? What’s going on, love?” She could hear the sounds of his muffled sniffling and the sound of the tv blaring softly, her mind creating dark visions of nights she hated, the nights her son would call her while he was halfway through his drinking, or when he would take those pills she hated. It was one of those nights, except, the pills weren’t what was causing him pain, it was the abandonment of his love.

“Um . . . I think I’m in love with Y/N. But she’s not . . . she’s not in love with me and I don’t know how ism supposed to feel about it.” His voice came out slightly croaky, the man clearing his throat to stop more tears from falling.

Anne sighed, sitting down from her place in the kitchen, her eyes closing. “Oh, harry.” Her voice was soothing to him, although he had mistaken it for disappointment. “How long have you known?”

The curly haired man sniffled. “About three years, but it didn’t really feel as strong as it does right now. She just . . . she just makes me feel things, like . . . I feel happy when I’m around her and when she says certain things it’s almost like she loves me too, but I know she doesn’t. She’s not capable of loving someone else because she’s been taught to never give herself to someone. I don’t know what to do, mum.”

Anne’s heart clenched at the sound of her son’s voice. Ever since he had become the spotlight, his life had never been easy. All of his relationships ended before something could even start, all because of the public and their crudeness. All she wants is for her son to be happy. “My love, I know how much she means to you, and I know how much it hurts to love someone and them not feel the same, but you can’t let it take over you. Trust me when I say this, I do not want my little boy to break himself over a woman that may never feel the same. And I know that hurts harry, I know it does, but it’s the truth.”

Anne clenched her eyes shut at the sob that fell from her son’s lips, pursing her own to stop her own tears from falling. “I just want her to love me, mum. Why can’t she just love me?” He hiccuped, feeling his heart shrivel.

“Baby, I promise you, you will find love someday, and when you do, I’ll be here for you ever step of the way, okay? I just need you to be strong, can you do that? Be my strong boy I know and love, I know you can do it.” The sobs never left his lips as he heard his mother talk. He felt so weak and pathetic, crying over a woman that would never love him, but he couldn’t help it. He hated how much power you had over him.

“I love you, Harry. I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, mum.”

THREE YEARS, three years and never once did harry ever find someone like you. You hadn’t truly love Jeremy like you said you did, and instead, you married unhappily to a man you knew would never make you feel like a true woman. You forced yourself to love him, and you forced yourself to have a happy relationship while Harry went off on his own.

On your wedding day, Harry had been the one to walk you down the aisle, he had been the one to give you away, and he had been the one to keep his heart in tact long enough to watch you push a ring onto Jeremy’s finger and declare your love for him. It just made him even more truthful to the fact that you would never love him when you spoke your vows, how genuine you looked, how you cried happily in his arms, how he dipped you into a kiss. He wished he was Jeremy. God, how he wished he was Jeremy.

Harry watched you become a mother, he watched you birth a life and bring a child into the world, he watched with a broken heart as you and your now husband cradled the baby in your arms with grins and he watched as you brought your child home. Hs couldn’t bare to see you live a life without him, and now that Jeremy had finished building your dream home, his apartment felt empty.

The day you moved out was the day Harry felt as if the bond between you two had broke. He saw the boxes lined up and the emptiness of your room that would now be filled with dust and trash. He saw how happy you were to be moved into a home with your husband, and then he finally knew . . . you never would have loved him.

He watched, throughout the years of your life, as you grew old and became unknown to the world. And even then . . . he never found someone new. He stayed true to you, even if you weren’t to him.

Because, unlike Jeremy, Harry truly loved you.

#harry styles #harrystylesangst #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry oneshot #harry blurb #harry styles x y/n #lone emaa #emma writes!

[jaeminlore]

Landslide | Mark Lee

summary: time makes you bolder. even children get older, and i’m getting older too.

words: 7.1k+

category: teacher!mark, single parent!reader, fem!presenting!reader, graham is the sweetest kid, mark is that teacher that lets kids pick earthworms during recess, friends to lovers, mark’s apartment is flooded so now he has to live in domestic bliss with his secret crush oh nooooo

warnings: talk of absent fathers

author note: it’s my birthday tomorrow so i wanted to give u all a present for supporting me for so long!! here’s to you <3 (cross-posted on /honklore)

Mark helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Mark advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Mark grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Mark.

Mark ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Lee forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Mark giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Mark to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Mark actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Mark did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Mark puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Mark checks his text messages.

There’s one from Taeyong: “I’ve already got Haechan on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Mark forgot that Haechan lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Mark’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Mark didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Mark has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Mark right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Mark doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Mark gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Mark is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Mark’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Mark gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Mark pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Mark! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Mark is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Lee! It’s rude to call him Mark!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Mark reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Mark.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Mark and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Mark studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Mark acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Mark clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Mark. I’ll text you.”

Mark spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

-

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Mark is his teacher.

Mark’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Mark is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Mark glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Mark.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Mark to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Lee?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Mark gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Mark.

“How have you been?”

Mark sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Mark pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Mark. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Mark bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

-

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Lee is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Lee? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Mark decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Lee’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are heard before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, and you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Mark’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Mark is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Mark’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Mark teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Mark mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Mark gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Mark himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Mark has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Lee cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Mark around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Mark giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Mark blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Mark knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

-

Mark thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Mark gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Mark quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Mark tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Lee! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Mark’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Mark gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Mark feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be. Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Mark reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Mark has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Lee?”

Mark grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Mark’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Mark feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Mark grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Mark, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Mark leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Mark thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Mark takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Mark watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Mark, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Mark reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Mark wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

-

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Lee let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Mark trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Mark scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Mark places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Mark’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Mark says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Mark Lee would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Mark grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

-

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Mark up by jumping on his chest.

Mark sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Mark, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Mark rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Mark and Graham enter.

Mark likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Mark, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Mark rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Mark insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

-

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Mark giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Mark reminds you.

“But Mikey is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Mark’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Mark scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Mark is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Mark laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Mark blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Mark is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Mark,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Mark opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

-

Haechan comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Mark, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still high despite its blunt sarcasm. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Haechan, Mark’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Lee’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Haechan looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Haechan to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Taeyong’s, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Mikey, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re rambling and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Johnny about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Mark tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Mark didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Haechan scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Mark’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Haechan grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Mark, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Haechan in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Haechan’s voice cracks

You shoot Haechan a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Johnny’s.” Mark says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Haechan says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Mark laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Mark is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in the shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

-

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Mark is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Haechan’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Mark didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Mark was alone in a dorm with Taeyong, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Mark even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Lee?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Mark jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Mark realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Mark holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Mark says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Mark’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

-

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Mark and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Mark’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Mark scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Mark smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, copper brown under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Mark’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

-

“Mark Lee!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Mark has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Mark’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Mark laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Mark.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Mark.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Haechan told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Mark pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Mark stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

-

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Mark. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Mark again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Mark in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say.

Mark confesses, “I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Mark is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Mark bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Mark’s voice is a low rumble. Copper eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Mark.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in onyx black disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#Nct fluff #nct fanfiction #Nct angst #Nct scenarios #mark lee fluff #mark lee imagines #mark lee angst #mark lee fanfic #mark lee scenarios #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #destwrites

[honklore]

landslide | karl jacobs

(kindergarten teacher!karl, single mom!reader, oh no karl’s apartment gets flooded so he has to stay at his best friend from high school’s house who also happens to be the mother of his favorite student, karl just being soft and sweet and a great friend, um talk about the baby daddy being a loser essentially, the beast team is there playing the role of karl’s friends from school, graham is the sweetest child, slight angst, fluff, friends to lovers, SOFT KARL, warmth, comfort, romance coded but very light)

listen to: landslide by fleetwood mac, never grow up by taylor swift, growing up by river run north, rainbow by kacey musgraves

Karl helps one of his kids press their palms onto the wall. When they release their palm, pink paint remains, making a sort of leaf to the tree branches painted onto the wall.

“Now write your name,” Karl advises another kid, whose orange paint had already dried.

“G-R-A-H-A-M,” the boy writes out with a large permanent marker. “Can I take a picture? For my mom?”

All the rest of the children begin to shout their agreements, also wanting to bring home a picture for their parents. Karl grabs his yellow Polaroid camera and takes a picture of each handprint.

He keeps all of the pictures in the chest pocket of his denim jacket. “Okay, guys— to the sink! Whoever has the cleanest hands gets to help me pass out snacks!”

“Why are we having snack time so early?” It’s Graham that asks, the little one always eager to be around Karl.

Karl ignores the boy’s paint covered hands poking at his clean jacket, and answers him as politely as he can. “Mr. Jacobs forgot his lesson plans today, so we’re going to watch a movie instead.”

“A movie?” Graham’s eyes widen.

“Yep,” Karl giggles. He crouches down to Graham’s level and whispers, “You wanna pick it?”

“Nature Nut!” Graham cheers almost immediately, causing Karl to wince.

Ah, yes, the wonderful little DVDs of a lonesome man teaching the watcher about bugs and weird types of slugs. Karl actually has the entire collection, and Graham happens to adore them just as much as Karl did when he was a kid.

“Alright, go wash your hands and I’ll get it started.”

It’s a little girl named Hana who cleans her hands the best, so she passes out organic fruit gummies to everyone while Karl puts in the DVD.

While they watch the video, Karl checks his text messages.

There’s one from Chris: “I’ve already got Chandler on the couch. Sorry, man. You can have the floor, but it’s not gonna be comfy :(“

Right. Karl forgot that Chandler lives in the same complex as him. His apartment is probably just as flooded as Karl’s is. Now if the landlord would just answer his calls and help him... maybe this situation wouldn’t be so stressful.

Karl didn’t forget his lesson plans; they’re just submerged in his bedroom with everything else Karl has left lying on his carpet. And maybe it’s his fault for not buying more storage bins, but a studio apartment can only hold so much stuff.

Serves Karl right for doing his lesson plans at home instead of at the school like most of his fellow kindergarten teachers.

He lets out a quiet sigh, careful not to disturb the children. He only has a short list of friends left to ask, and while he doesn’t think they’ll mind him asking, he really hates to put anyone in that position.

Besides, most of his friends have roommates or significant others and Karl doesn’t want to ruin their routine. He’d hate to intrude. And he could always sleep in his car for a few days, but the amount of stuff he had to pack because of the flooding has barred any chance of a good night’s sleep.

The video ends, and Karl gets the kids seated with coloring pages until their parents arrive.

One by one, he I.Ds the parents and tells the kids goodbye, helping them put on their coats and take home whatever library book they picked out earlier.

Finally, there’s only one kid left, and Karl is a bit embarrassed of his hyper-awareness to Graham. It’s not even his fault, really. Graham just has a beautiful mom, who happens to be Karl’s beautiful friend, and sometimes Karl gets eager to see you during pickup time.

Whatever. It’s no big deal.

The kindergartener already has his coat on. His curly brown hair is almost unruly as he continues to work on his coloring sheet.

Karl pulls at the hem of his sage sweater sleeves and wonders if his hair looks okay. Maybe he should invest in a little desk mirror; or maybe that’s vain.

“Hey, Karl! Sorry I’m late!” You rush in, holding on to your leather messenger bag. You fix your glasses before they fall off the bridge of your nose, and Karl is so focused on the movement that he almost forgets about your child.

Until said child is scolding his mother. “Mom! You have to call him Mr. Jacobs! It’s rude to call him Karl!”

“Your mom is an adult,” Karl reminds Graham (as soon as he finds his voice.) “Since she isn’t a student, it’s okay for her to call me Karl.”

Graham pinches his lips together, and then shrugs. “Fine. Mom, we watched Nature Nut today.” He runs up to you and wraps his arm around your middle. “Can we go to the park and look for slugs?”

“Sure,” you giggle. “But we need to get home soon, okay, Bud? I have to make dinner and then we have to clean up the mess we made last night.”

Graham turns to Karl and smiles naughtily, like the trickster he often is. “Mom said I could tear up her papers last night. She said it’s There-pee.”

“Ther-a-py,” you emphasize for the five-year-old.

Karl studies your face, and he can tell that you seem a little more stressed than usual. “Therapy, huh?”

You smile sheepishly. “Well, when your son catches you tearing up old love notes, you have to let him in on the fun, right?”

“You are a team,” Karl acknowledges. He wants to ask more; wants to dig into your heart and extract whatever is hurting you, but your son is standing between the two of you, waiting for him to say goodbye. Karl clears his throat and picks at his sweater again. “Anyways, uh, text me tonight? Let me know you two got home safe. And, I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” you breathe. You smile at him and then take Graham’s hand. “Thanks, Karl. I’ll text you.”

Karl spends the night at a motel down the road. He texts a few of his friends and hopes for good news in the morning, or at least a confirmation from his landlord.

When you text him, a little selfie of you and Graham, holding up what looks like microwaved s’mores, his heart grows fond, and he forgets about his own problems for a moment.

Life has never been very easy for you. From the get-go, you have always been destined to fail, growing up with an absent father and an overworked mother. With a dead-end dream like yours (writing, of all things), it’s no wonder you clung to what little breaths of freedom you had.

He was handsome and bold, with a carefree smile and brown eyes that mirrored the sun. The lead singer of a band, with a voice like chimes. And you fell just as hard as one of your many protagonists. Perhaps the mistake always lay in the fact that you put too much fantasy into reality. You have always romanticized the littlest things, and that comes back to bite you more often than not.

You never expected one: to get pregnant your senior year of high school, and two: have to go through it alone.

Of course, most people you come to love leave eventually. It’s something you have always remembered; something that sticks in the back of your brain like gum to the bottom of your child’s Spider-man skechers.

Graham is the only constant in your life. Though you’ve been blessed with a decent job editing for a webazine company, and you can work from home more often than not, Graham is the real thing that keeps you alive.

He’s the most precious boy, with brown curls and big brown eyes. He favors his father, and though that should deter you, it reminds you of innocent days, and it gives a new meaning to brown eyes. Graham is not his father, and he never was.

Graham certainly got his love of learning from you. Though he likes science more than writing, you adore how eager he is to always get to school. It helps that Karl is his teacher.

Karl’s been your friend since freshman year of highschool, when the two of you both took the same creative writing class the local university offered. Though the two of you had differing end goals, you often studied together and encouraged each other. He was there when you found out you were pregnant, and he was there when you found out you’d be raising your child alone.

Now life comes full circle, and you see him twice a day. You could go out on a limb and say he brightens up most mornings, but you would still give that slot to your son.

Karl is standing at the doorway now, greeting all of his students and helping them take off their book bags and coats. He’s wearing monochrome today: red pants, a red sweater, and red shoes.

Graham lights up almost immediately, and you are thankful today that you decided to dress Graham in his red t-shirt. “Mom! We match!”

“I know,” you grin, squeezing his hand.

Karl glances at Graham, and then you. His cheeks showcase that same pink hue they always do, and while it should clash with his red garments, it doesn’t. “Hey, Karl.”

“Hey,” he grins, cheeks full at the sight of you two.

Graham spreads his arms and waits for Karl to help him take off his jacket. “Do you see that we match, Mr. Jacobs?”

“Yo, that’s awesome, Little Man!” Karl gives Graham a fist bump that seems to appease him, and you wait for Graham to run to his friends before addressing Karl.

“How have you been?”

Karl sighs. He brushes his hair away from his eyes. “Okay. My- uh- my studio apartment flooded so I’m staying at a motel until my landlord can get me estimates on when I can come back home.”

“That sucks,” you frown. “You know, if you need a place to stay, I have a pullout couch in my office. And obviously, Graham wouldn’t mind.”

Karl pales. “Are you serious? I didn’t mean to suggest anything, Like I know you work from home and you need your office.”

“And you’ll be at school until three,” you say. “I’ll work then. C’mon, Karl. I don’t like knowing one of my friends has no place to stay.”

Karl bites his bottom lip and scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah. Okay. I’ll drive over after I check out of the motel.”

“Great!” You smile. “I’ll order pizza.”

"Graham, clean your room," you say, struggling to push your desk against your office wall. "We're going to have a guest for a few weeks."

"Mom," Graham whines, "They aren't going to look in my room."

You begin to take the cushions out of the spare couch to start setting up the pull-out bed. "Mr. Jacobs is coming over, Graham.  Don't you want to show him your collections?"

Graham's brown eyes grow wide. "Mr. Jacobs? You didn't tell me he was coming!"

"He's going to be staying with us for a little bit, okay? So I need you to be on your best behavior."

“Can I show him my worms?” Graham asks, alluding to the compost bin in the small backyard of your townhouse.

“Yes,” you say, thankful that he isn’t putting up much of a fight toward cleaning. You’re also thankful he isn’t asking any questions, as Graham always seems to have a few at the top of his tongue.

Graham cleans up his room quickly. You know for a fact that he’s just shoved all of his toys under his bed, but it’s enough until the weekend, when you’ll have more time to help him organize.

The little guy hoards rocks like no one’s business. You curse the day Karl decided to teach the kids about geodes.

“Wanna help me make up Mr. Jacobs’s room?” You half-yell, while grabbing spare bedding out of your linen closet.

Graham’s little footsteps are head before he answers, and soon he’s at your hip with a quick, “He can have my Frozen pillowcase!”

You hesitate to tell Graham that his Frozen pillowcase is currently on one of your pillows, but just you can’t give your guest a dirty pillowcase. “That one is in the wash, Buddy. Why don’t we give him your Spider-Man one?”

“So he matches my pajamas!” Graham is easily pleased, and he even takes one of his stuffed bears to add to Karl’s made-up bed. (“So he doesn’t get scared at night.”)

By the time the pizza arrives, Karl is just behind, so you keep Graham busy with a slice of cheese and a glass of diet pepsi (only half of a can, and only because it’s a special occasion) while the two of you bring in Karl’s stuff.

He surprisingly didn’t bring much, and when you ask about it, he grimaces. “My studio is pretty small so a lot of my stuff was on the ground and got mildewed. Other stuff was in bins so I just left it there. I only need clothes and my lesson plans, anyway.”

“Well, here’s the desk and bed. It’s not much, but there’s a lock on the door in case Graham ever gets too inquisitive — bless him — and curtains so the stupidly bright sun won’t wake you too early.”

“Those both sound like personal experiences, Y/n,” Karl teases. He takes off his jacket and throws it on the bed. “Yo! Spider-Man?”

“Graham picked it out,” you say. “He also relinquished one of his bears to keep you safe in the middle of the night. His words, not mine.”

“He’s so cute,” Karl mentions offhandedly. The fondness in his tone takes you back a bit. Not because the phrase isn’t true, it’s just that most people find your son annoying before they find him endearing. The change of tone is nice.

“He is,” you say. “And he’s dying to show you his room after we eat dinner.”

Karl gives you that same lopsided smile he often had in high school. Part of your brain shifts to his personal life, and you wonder why Karl himself isn’t in a romantic relationship. Not that he has to be, but the both of you are getting older, and Karl has always been one to express a fondness for having his own family one day. Maybe he just hasn’t found the right person.

It isn’t until Graham is peacefully in bed — after a very chaotic reading of Goodnight Moon by yours truly, and an argument that Mr. Jacobs cannot, in fact, sleep in the same room as him — that you actually have a chance to show Karl around the house.

“Here’s the guest bathroom. Graham almost always uses the bathroom in my room because he likes looking at the big tub. He will beg you to play with him, but if you’re busy don’t feel guilty telling him no. He knows what no means and he’s good about playing by himself.”

Karl giggles. “Okay. I don’t mind playing with him, though.“

You show him around the kitchen, where you left little spaces for him in the pantry. You show him the garbage bags and the T.V. settings and the list of compostable ingredients. “And also, please come and go as you please. Like, I completely understand that you’re here temporarily and you aren’t a babysitter or anything like that. I don’t expect you to be in charge of Graham any time outside of school.”

Karl blinks. “But if you ever need time away, you can ask me. I don’t mind babysitting.”

“I know,” you smile. “But Graham is my kid. I don’t need time away from him.”

You’re lying. Karl knows it. You’ve been in this single parenting thing for five years and you aren’t about to reach out for help now.

“Anyways, if you have any questions just ring me or ask me,” you say. “I’ve got to get to bed. Goodnight.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

Karl thinks it’s sweet the way Graham insists on making his own breakfast.

You’re already up when Karl gets out of his (temporary) bedroom with his clothes tucked under his arm. You’re busy arguing with Graham. “You can’t fry your own omelette for the last time.”

Karl quirks an eyebrow at your exasperated face. You look stressed beyond belief, even though the day has just begun.

Karl tosses his clothes back in his room and walks into the kitchen. “Hey, Graham! Do you want to show me your rock collection?”

Graham spins on his sock-clad heels, eyes bright at the thought of seeing his teacher. “Mr. Jacobs! Yes! Let’s go!”

He grabs Karl’s hand with ease, leaving you room to finish making breakfast.

Graham’s room is fairly simple. The small wooden bed is covered in a green quilt, and beneath that, frozen-printed sheets that certainly don’t match. He has a tub of stuffed animals shoved against a small dresser.

Karl gets distracted by the framed picture on top of the dresser. It’s a picture of you and Graham’s father, a few months before you got pregnant. He’s smiling, and you’re holding up a peace sign. It makes Karl feel a bit sad, knowing that Graham’s dad never stayed around to see how wonderful he turned out to be.

Then again, a lot of people in your life left as soon as they found out. In high school, no one wants to be friends with a teenage mother.

Karl reckons that if he had a family like this, he’d never take them for granted.

Graham pulls out a gemstone. It’s a murky green one that Karl has let him take home from class. “Do you remember this, Mr. Jacobs?”

Karl grins. “Yeah, bud. Thanks for keeping it so safe for me.”

Graham beams. He grabs Karl’s hand and pulls him towards his dresser. “Can we match? I want to look like you.”

Karl feels his heart swell. He wants to smother the young boy in affection, but he doesn’t want to cross a line. He’s your friend, sure, but he’s also Graham’s teacher. He can’t coddle Graham more than the other children. He already has a godchild to coddle. “I’m wearing yellow today. Do you have any yellow clothes?”

“Let’s look!” Graham yanks open one of the drawers and begins pulling out the articles of clothing one by one. “No, no, no... Here!” He finds a pair of yellow overalls, folded amongst the mess he made. “I’ll wear these!”

“Let’s clean up first, okay?” Karl grabs the overalls. “So it’s clean when you come home from school.”

Graham, looking like the last thing he’d ever want to do is disappoint Karl, begins to pick up each shirt with obvious intent. He tries to fold them, and does a somewhat decent job, so much so that Karl leaves it, thinking you’ll find it endearing rather than annoying.

He really loves that about you. He likes your patience with Graham. You’re so young, and in reality, he squashed so many early dreams of yours. No matter your lot in life, you never blamed your child. Karl thinks that’s why Graham is so open, so adaptable, so endearing.

He helps Graham get dressed and leaves him in his room so that he, himself, can get ready.

When he emerges from his shower, hair wet and clothed in yellow, he smells something amazing.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your morning with Graham. He already feels too indebted to you already.

“Have an omelet,” you say. Wisps of hair cover your face. You place a plate down in front of him.

Graham is already eating his omelet, slowly, while flipping through a picture book. He sounds out words he recognizes, but stays silent the rest of the time.

Karl takes out his phone and scrolls through his instagram feed just as your own phone begins to ring.

“Shit,” you curse, and then immediately apologize to Graham. You press the red button and tap anxiously on the tabletop.

“Everything okay?” Karl asks.

You run your hands over your hair and let them rest on the back of your neck. “Yeah is just—“

The phone rings again, and this time you pick it up. “What do you want? ... Why would you tell me that? ... Why should I care? ... Please stop contacting me, okay? Goodbye.”

You slam the phone down and leave the room. Karl watches you disappear down the hallway, sniffling.

“Mommy is upset,” Graham says. He looks at Karl, lip quivering. “At me?”

“No, Buddy! Of course not!” Karl reaches over the table to ruffle Graham’s curls. “Never at you.”

“When we tore up paper, she was crying.” Graham fiddles with his book page.

Karl wonders why your ex’s actions are being brought up five years later. Last he heard, you had fully healed from the breakup long before Graham’s first birthday. But now he’s about to be six, and you're suddenly upset?

He’ll have to ask you about it soon.

“Are you ready to go to school, Buddy?”

“Yeah!”

You cradle your face in your hands and try to ease the tears back in. You’ll never get this article proofread and sent if you can’t see the keys.

The door opens, and Graham runs in just in time for you to finish wiping your eyes. “Hey, kiddo! How was school?”

“Mr. Jacobs let us finger paint!” Graham holds up his palm, covered in dried paint, and grins brightly. “Can I have gogurt?”

“Yeah bud. Why don’t you put something on the T.V.? You can have your snack in the living room today.”

“Yes!” Graham takes blueberry gogurt out of the fridge and — after getting you to tear it open — runs into the living room. Sneakers and backpack still on.

Karl trails behind, clutching a messenger bag to his chest. “What’s going on?”

You sigh and close the laptop. The manuscript will have to wait. “Ben called. About a week ago. His girlfriend is pregnant. Called me to tell me he wasn’t going to leave her— like that would heal what he did to me. Then he called this morning to tell me they’re engaged.” You burst into tears then, and you feel so pathetic for doing this in front of your old schoolmate, that you hide your face behind your palms and allow your shoulders to shake. “Why weren’t we enough? Why wasn’t I enough?”

Karl scoots one of the chairs in front of you and sits, leaning his elbows on his knees. “Hey. Look at me.” With gentle hands, he grabs your wrists and pulls them away from your face. “It is not your fault he left.”

“But it has to be me in some way,” you retort. “He must not have loved me. Something, because now he’s going to raise her child after he left mine. Graham deserves a dad.”

Karl places his forehead against yours. The two of you used to do it all the time in school, mostly with immature giggles in the spaces between, but now it’s heavy with intention. “Graham has not felt even a little bit unloved in your care. You are all he needs, okay? You’re amazing.”

You nod, head still pressed to Karl’s. “Yeah. Okay. Sorry for getting too emotional, there.”

“Be as emotional as you want,” Karl says. “I’ll be here to balance you out.”

Your heart stutters at the words, like maybe they mean something more than he’s letting on. Of course it’s stupid to think Karl Jacobs would ever even consider you, but just the knowledge that he cares makes your soul feel a little lighter.

“I’m a mess,” you stutter, bringing your fist up to wipe at your nose.

“Nah,” Karl grins. He runs the pad of his thumb across your cheek and grins. “You’re alright.”

“It’s snowing!” Graham wakes Karl up by jumping on his chest.

Karl sucks in a breath, winded at the sudden weight, and grabs the boy, lifting him off of his chest and onto the mattress. “Hey, Buddy. Let’s not jump on sleeping people, okay?”

“Okay,” Graham says. He’s already lost interest in Karl, now crawling off of the bed to open the blinds. “Come look at the snow!”

“I see!” Karl rubs his tired eyes and checks his watch. “We might have a snow day, Graham.”

“Yes!” Graham pumps his fist into the air. “Let’s go tell mom!”

You’re sitting on your bed, chewing on a red licorice rope and flipping through a fashion magazine. You look up when Karl and Graham enter.

Karl likes seeing you like this: the domesticity of seeing you in the morning, lazy and true. His chest sparks when he thinks this may be one of the only moments he can capture you like this, so he intends to commit the sight to memory.

“Did I hear snow day?” You grin at Karl, childlike wit in your own eyes — the same as your son’s.

“Looks like it.” Karl rolls up the sleeves of the sweater he slept in. “You want pancakes? I make some mean chocolate chip pancakes.”

You shift your gaze away from his arms and clear your throat. “Uh, yeah. Just let me get dressed and I’ll help—“

“No need,” Karl insists. “Enjoy your quiet time. Graham and I will make the most delicious pancakes you’ve ever tasted.”

“With lots of chocolate chips!” Graham shouts.

You give him a pointed look. “But not too many.”

Graham huffs. “But not too many,” he repeats.

Momentary splashes sound from your bathroom, followed by Graham screaming “It’s a dragon! Run for cover!”

Karl giggles from his place on the couch. He’s got mushroom-patterned socks on, and he’s tucked up into the cushions, nursing a can of Monster. “How does he still have so much energy?”

You sigh and pull your beanie down over your forehead. “You’d think a snow day would tire him out. Thanks for constantly carrying him up the hill, by the way. I know you’re a teacher, but sometimes I forget how good you are with kids.”

“I do have a godson,” Karl reminds you.

“But Tucker is a baby,” you say. You only know the baby’s name because of Karl’s constant snap stories about him.

“Most babies and kids want the same thing. Affection and attention.” Karl scoots over to the edge of the couch and pats the cushion.

You sit next to him. “I guess that’s true. You’re really good with Graham. He’s not this open to other adults.”

Karl is clearly blushing now; you can see his pink cheeks even in the light of the television. “He’s great in class, always helping the other kids.”

“He wants to impress you,” you say. You pop open a can of orange soda and take a sip. “He thinks you’re just the coolest guy.”

Karl laughs and shakes his head. “Didn’t you hear, Y/n? I’m handsome and cool.”

“Oh, of course,” you nudge his shin with our own sock-clad foot. “How could I forget? Mr. Ladies Man in high school.”

This makes Karl blush even harder, because he most certainly was not a ladies man in high school. In fact, he was a nerd in all senses of the word, part of the debate club with a few other boys. He had a few dates here and there, but nothing ever stuck.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “My time is gonna come.”

“Hasn’t it already?” you ask before you can really process your own words. But of course he knows that he’s grown into his face, right?

Karl is positively handsome, eyes bright and lashes long. He’s so warm and comforting to you. He must be just as comforting to everyone else.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re handsome, Karl,” you say plainly.

“You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you say. “Why would I lie?”

Karl opens his mouth, perhaps to call you out. To tell you you’ve been too honest, but he’s interrupted by your son.

“Mom! I’m ready to get out now!”

“I should go,” you say, still looking at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. His sweater has small spots on the shoulders where snow has fallen and since melted. He shivers.

“You should take a shower. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

Chandler comes over the following Saturday night to hang out with Karl, and you’re surprised at how much he truly hasn’t changed since high school.

He’s still got infamously perfect eyebrows, and his voice is still monotonous despite its humor. “Nice place.” He raises his brows as he looks around.

“Who are you?” Graham is sitting at the kitchen table, watching Minecraft playthroughs (kid-friendly ones you’ve watched through yourself) on your phone to entertain himself while you clean.

“I’m Chandler, Karl’s friend.”

“This is Mr. Jacob’s friend from school,” you say, detailing your words so they’re easier for your son to digest.

Graham stares at him for a moment, not quite judging but not quite accepting either. “Okay. Do you want to see my rock collection?”

Chandler looks genuinely excited, and accepts before you can come up with an excuse for him. Graham tells Chandler to stay in the kitchen while he grabs all of his rocks.

“How have you been?” you ask the taller man. “Like, with the flooding and everything?”

“Well, I’m on a couch at Chris’, which is good since he doesn’t charge rent. But that means I’m near Tucker, and that baby has some lungs.”

You laugh. “I remember when Graham was a baby. I was so young, and my mom told me it was my responsibility to wake up and take care of him whenever he cried in the middle of the night. I was so pissed at her for making me do that, but those were some of the best nights to bond with him.” You realize you’re ranting and shake your head. “Whatever. Baby screams are loud as hell.”

“You can say that again. I’ve been talking to my friend Jimmy about taking his spare room and paying rent. I dunno how many more sleepless nights I can take.”

“Why would you need to pay rent if you’re just crashing?” You wipe down the kitchen table to keep yourself busy.

“Didn’t Karl tell you? Our landlord is in heaps of trouble because the pipes weren’t up to code and that’s why they busted. The damage is basically too expensive to fix, so we’ve got to find new places.”

You stop cleaning. “Karl didn’t tell me that.”

“Oh.” Chandler scratches his brow. “He probably didn’t want to worry you. He feels really bad that he’s stayed with you this long.”

“It’s only been a month or so,” you counter. “Besides, Karl’s a great housemate. He cleans and keeps Graham occupied. Plus, now I have someone to watch corny game shows with.”

Chandler grins. “Oh. Okay, I get it.”

“Get what?” Karl, finally out of the shower, steps into the kitchen and immediately tackles Chandler in an energized hug.

“Nothing!” Chandler’s voice cracks

You shoot Chandler a weird look, and change the subject. “Where are you guys going?”

“To play video games at Jimmy’s.” Karl says, and the thrill in his voice makes you think of high school. Of the debate team bus rounding the corner. Of you standing there, waiting to congratulate him with a big hug and a frosty from Wendy’s.

You miss it. “Have fun, okay? I’m probably going to tuck in as soon as Graham does, so just let yourself in.”

“You’re leaving?” Graham comes in, and his arms are filled with smooth and rough stones and gems he’s both found by himself and bought at random general stores while traveling.

“Not before I see your rocks!” Chandler says with so much enthusiasm, you think he’s telling the truth.

Graham giggles and drops the rocks onto the ground. Of course, he wants your guest to sit on the floor and count rocks. You’re almost embarrassed.

“ ‘ Okay, Y/n?” Karl laughs at your expression. Then he places his arm on your shoulder, thumbs the skin of your upper arm.

And once again, it’s high school. It’s senior year graduation and Karl is the only one who congratulates you. It’s his comforting touch, him coming over in the middle of the night after you texted him a picture of your first sonogram. It’s that same comforting touch. That little “I’m here,” and it melts you on the inside, leaves you in a shell of an eighteen girl again. Scared, and worried, and a little less alone.

“Yeah,” you manage. “I’m okay.”

The television plays Cartoon Network reruns on a low hum. Karl is curled up in a blanket, nursing a bottle of water and thinking over Chandler’s words.

You’ve liked her since high school, dude.

Which is a complete lie. Seriously, Karl didn’t have a crush on you in high school. He would know if he had a crush on his best friend. You’ve been his friend since freshman year, and that’s all you’ve ever been.

Now in college, it was different. In college, Karl was alone in a dorm with Chris, and you were one of the only people from high school he stayed in contact with. In college, he would bring you your favorite snacks and drinks, and other things you would forget to buy because you were a part-time student and a full-time mom. In college, you would pull all-nighters with him, working on your exams while Graham was asleep, then using energy drinks to get through the next day.

Karl even remembers the time your mom caught the three of you fast asleep on your rug, with unopened monster cans and an empty milk bottle beside you.

Throughout your entire pregnancy he was warned not to stay friends with the pregnant girl — it’d be too much for him, he wouldn’t want to become the new father, and all kinds of other stuff people would mumble to him when you weren’t around.

But you never expected him to be anything other than your friend. You never asked him for the help he gave — though you thanked him always — and you never once assumed he’d take the role of Graham’s dad.

And now… now he finds himself wishing you would.

“Mr. Jacobs?” Graham creeps up without him even realizing.

Karl jumps, sets his water — and thoughts — aside. “Hey, Bud. It’s really late. What are you doing up?”

Graham sniffs, and Karl realizes that the boy is crying. “I had a nightmare.”

Karl holds out his arms before he can think, and lets the five-year-old crawl into his lap. He wraps them both in his blanket and turns the television up just a little more. “Was it scary?”

“You left.” Graham says, voice less watery, like he doesn’t know the weight of his words. He’s focused on the rerun of Adventure Time that’s playing. He’s not even remotely interested in his nightmare now, with his tears dried up, and his eyes drooping back towards slumber.

“I’m going to leave one day,” Karl says, because he thinks it’s important that Graham knows.

“You should stay with me and Mom,” Graham says. He yawns. “We like you so much!”

Karl’s heart stutters. He tries not to think about it.

When Graham’s bed is empty the next morning, you freak out. He’s always in his room in the morning. Even if he wakes up before you, he stays in and plays with his toys.

You’ve already got your phone out, and your mother’s number called, when you walk into the living room.

Relief floods your system. Karl and Graham are asleep on the couch, snuggled up serenely like they didn’t just cause you to have a premature heart attack.

You hang up before the call to your mom can go through and stand there, watching the two boys sleep. Graham has both his arms wrapped around Karl’s forearm. It’s such a sweet picture that you take out your phone and snap one.

The flash is on.

Karl scrunches his nose and winces. “What the–”

“Sorry!” You whisper. “You both looked so cute, I couldn’t help it.”

Karl smiles, still sleepy, and finally opens his eyes. He peers at you, stormy green under fluttering lashes and you’re almost intimidated into looking away. “He had a nightmare.”

“Oh?”

“About me leaving.”

“Oh.” You frown. “I’m really sorry about that. I keep telling him that you’re moving out soon, but I don’t think he fully understands.”

Graham stirs. You reach down and pick him up. Your knuckles brush across Karl’s warm, sweater-clad chest and you suddenly wish you could cuddle with him, too. You shake the thoughts away and focus on your drowsy son. “You’re staying at Grandma's for a few days, remember?”

Graham rubs his eyes and perks up. “And I’ll see her cat?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “But we’ve got to get you dressed because she’s coming in a few minutes.”

“Karl Jacobs!” Your mom’s voice embarrassingly rings through the apartment, and you realize Karl has taken it upon himself to open the door. “Y/n told me she had a temporary roommate but I never thought she would finally ask you!”

“Oh my gosh…” you mumble, buckling Graham’s overalls and hauling him up into your arms. “Mom! His apartment flooded so he’s staying here. Don’t be weird about it.”

“But he’s so handsome,” your mom coos. You’re concerned she might reach forward and pinch Karl’s already ruddy cheeks.

“Thanks,” Karl laughs. “But she’s right, I’m just squatting until I can find a new place.”

Your mom harrumphs. “Well, I don’t see why you can’t stay here forever. Y/n doesn’t even use that office room. And even if she did, the two of you could just share a room.”

“Mom!” You plunk Graham into her hands and grab his overnight bag. “You have to leave.”

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounds worried, but there’s an undisclosed mirth in her eyes that makes you think of your freshman year, when you did have a crush on Karl.

“You said everything wrong,” you say, kindly pushing her out. “Have a good time, Graham. I love you! As always, Mom, call if you need me to come get him.”

“Yeah, right!” She yells over her shoulder. Graham is already giggling, so you close the door with confidence.

You turn back to your roommate. “I’m sorry about that, Karl.”

“It’s fine.” He smiles, but it’s reserved. “But speaking of me finding a place… I know Chandler told you that I can’t go back to my own apartment. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You want to say “You can stay here as long as you want, and long as you’ll let me keep you,” but that would reveal too much, and you don’t want to lose the one good friend you have.

“And I was thinking I should move out soon anyway.” Karl pulls his sweater sleeves until they cover his hands. He’s hiding. He’s shielding himself the same way he did in junior year, when he got turned down by his crush to go to the prom. “I don’t think it’s good for Graham to get this attached to me if I’m just going to leave.”

“Oh,” Your sleeves are too short, but you want to shield yourself too. “Yeah, that’s… that’s probably a good idea.”

Karl stands there for a beat, like he’s waiting for you to say something more. Like he hasn’t just taken your heart and pushed it aside. Like this hurts a lot less than it actually does.

But any word out of your mouth would be tearful. It would be honest. It would ruin everything. “I’m going to go on a run.”

There’s a cricket outside that won’t stop chirping against your window. You blame it for your insomnia, choosing to ignore the anxiety of eventually losing Karl. It feels so horribly childish, since you’ll see him when you drop Graham off at school. And you’ll see him whenever the two of you go out for coffee on weekends.

But you won’t see him in the kitchen, reaching for the pancake mix so his shirt rises up and you can see the dimples in his back. You won’t see him humming along to the radio while he works on his lesson plans. You won’t feel his warmth when the two of you stay awake, nursing spiked lemonade and giggling at the commentary videos you find on YouTube.

He’ll just be Karl again. He won’t be home anymore.

Startled by the realization, you get out of your covers and rush to your door.

It opens before you can even reach for the doorknob, and there’s Karl in his pajamas, biting his lip and avoiding your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you say, just as Karl confesses,

“I love you.”

You open your arms and he dives in, face pressed into the space where your neck meets your shoulder. Warmth envelopes you and the scent of pine fills your nose.

Karl is timeless. Youthful glory and childish pride. He’s a pinch on the side and a push on the swings. Like a rock that actually skips on the first try. Like shoes that you can slip on when they’re still tied. And he’s here, in your arms, squeezing you like you’re something valuable enough to lose. He’s confessing love like you aren’t the worst possible candidate for his heart.

“I can’t offer you much,” you start, but Karl bumps his forehead against yours, boyish and playful — football fields and bright red lockers and secret notes on bathroom walls.

“I’ve known you for years, Y/n,” Karl’s voice is a low rumble. Green grass eyes blinking at you like you’re something to second glance at. “I know what I’m getting into. I want you. I want Graham. I want everything this is, and everything we’ve been for the past month. I don’t want this to end.”

You close your eyes, because his are too honest. He’s open and vulnerable and gentle — a child on the first day of school, ready to make friends. You take a deep breath, try to remember what you were like on your first day. Rosy cheeks and shy glances. Knobby knees and a trusting heart. You reach out for whoever you once were — the Y/n with a heart open and willing to be loved. “I don’t want this to end either. I’m in love with you, Karl.”

His grin lights up your world in its entirety. Gold flecks in emerald green disappear as he smiles, too thrilled to keep his eyes open. And when he kisses you, warm lips against cold ones, you feel like a puzzle has just slotted into place.

It would only make sense that you would grow to love the boy you grew up with.

#karl jacobs fluff #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs fanfic #mcyt x reader #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt fluff #pixiecap//

[longinglook]

Hey, I was wondering if you knew of any BL dramas that aren’t centred around high school/teens. There are so many dramas that sound good, but then I find out they take place in HS or are teens which as a 25+ woman I’m not interested in. Also I don’t rly like to watch anything where the actors are younger than 21, just feels a bit strange. Can you recommend anything?

I completely understand and I can reccomend a bunch! Hopefully there's some you haven't seen yet, I'll include links and which general topic they fall under so you can pick out what might interest you! These are just some of my favorites, but since Thailand loves their engineers in BLs there's actually a lot more.

The university BLs:

-Gaya sa pelikula: both leads are in university, they're dealing with moving out and finding their first jobs and figuring out who they are as adults (could also fall under "and then they were roommates")

-Bad buddy: childhood enemies to lovers, it's set during their university years and after but there are some brief flashbacks to high school and earlier.

-Enchanté: childhood friends to lovers, also set in university, lots and lots of pining

-Theory of love: uni film majors, one sided love that becomes very much requited, great acting and movie references

The crime/action BLs:

-Not me: twins, gangs fighting against social injustice, very important topics (riots, civil rights etc) done super well

-Manner of death: doctor goes back to his hometown and finds himself in the middle of a series of crimes + a shady hot guy won't stop hitting on him.

-A tale of thousand stars: rich guy decides to change his life after a heart transplant and becomes a volunteer teacher in a small village. The local forest ranger makes sure he's okay throughout it.

The "and then they were roommates" korean BLs:

-To my star: famous actor and very unimpressed normal chef end up living together.

-Wish you: Indie singer and intern at a music label end up living together.

#ask #anonymous #I'm actually sort of working on a project for BL recs which helped a lot with compiling this lol

[reylofanfictionanthology]

TO FIND YOUR KISS IS NOW LIVE!  

Authors will be revealed next week!  For now all fics are anonymous.  Treats can be posted through author reveals on 2/21.  We will post an updated masterpost at that time.

To Find Your Kiss collection on AO3 | Treats Masterpost

GIFT FIC MASTERPOST

- Reap the Stars for abbytheatre08

The prompt: After Ben's death, Rey goes mad and turns to the dark side. Only Ben's not dead anymore. ----------------------- She is consuming fire, magnificent in her rage. She will burn the galaxy to its foundations, until the ashes rain down and pile high as mountains. She will gather them into bouquets and scatter them like petals upon his grave.

He will be remembered, and they will not.

Call him The Light Bearer and Joy Giver. Call him He Who Loved and Laid Down His Life. Call him Ben.

- we are question marks that hang above the endless unexplained for AlwaysEverlark

The first time she walked into his club, she was looking for a job. Kylo took one look at her—the stubborn pout of her lip, the determined glint in her eyes, the ruddy glow of her face where the sun had kissed it—and swallowed a lump in his throat that was shaped like the words you’re too good for this place.

They needed a singer. Kira Johnson could hold a tune, knew the old standards, and had a knockout pair of tits to boot. A few slinky ballgowns and a touch of lipstick, and she’d more than do the trick of distracting suckers long enough to part them from their money.

The club solely needed to break even; anything they made on top of the Syndicate’s cut was gravy, and Kylo Ren had been lining his pockets with his own take for long enough that he could see Kira for the lump of clay that she was: rough-hewn, misshapen, but soft and supple and sure to curve under his touch.

- Eighty Bucks Says Sweetheart for Amoreusou

Ben likes puzzles. Rey needs help with a bunch of them. Good thing it's a slow day at the office.

- Seldom Visions for Andrina_Nightshade

After visiting an old Sith temple, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren has fallen into a deep sleep when he pricks his finger on the point of a red crystal. Rey become is the first to find him, but his rescuer isn't just any general or pilot, it's the woman he shares a soul with, who haunts his waking hours, who still sees him even in his sleep.

- The Dyad for aneighthdomain

Based of the Prompt: Groundhog Day scenario. Ben and Rey keep getting sent back to the first time they met and no matter what they do, Ben always dies so they stop trying to change events and just live a life time in the year between and couple of weeks and run away together.

- Saudade: The Love That Remains for AnneAnna

- The Delegation for aNerdObsessed

A humanitarian delegation from Naboo arrives at Niima Outpost. Rey is skeptical, to say the least.

- i don't want you like a best friend for anopendoor

It’s not like she hadn’t seen this coming—Rose told her weeks ago that he was invited. It was an inevitability Rey was always going to have to face, she just didn’t think that Rose would be so merciful as to also give every guest a plus one.

But Rey can’t really be upset—and she is totally, unequivocally not upset—that Ben's bringing someone because, well.

She is, too.

- Love is Weakness for bittersnake

“He’s someone I found on my recent trip to Corellia,” Rey replies placidly, her face practiced in its boredom. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Love is weakness,” her grandfather reminds her, the way he has for years. It’s why he doesn’t love her. He will not be weak. It’s why she doesn’t love him, either.

- in sickness and in health (with health being less likely) for BlueButterflyKisses

Deciding to spend the rest of their lives together is the easy part for both Rey and Ben; the trouble is in how to propose.

- Snowed In for Blueyedgurl

Never in her wildest dreams did Rey Johnson think she would ever get to meet her favorite other Kylo Ren. She also would have never entertained the idea of the scenario she found herself in. How did a hike in the woods lead to a snowstorm and taking shelter in a remote cabin in the woods? The idea was so ridiculous but had become reality. Stuck inside with a handsome stranger surrounded by a winter storm, Rey wonders what will happen with no power and only one bed. Will they be polite co-habitants stuck in a strange set of circumstances or is there room for something more?

- Curses, Comforts and Capybaras for Bombastique

Arrogant CEO bites off more than he can chew when he angers a witch... And suddenly finds himself transformed into a capybara. Can kindhearted wildlife rehabber Rey Niima help him break the curse?

- To Heal a Broken Soul for Cat2000

Ben survives the fallout of Exegol, but his connection to the physical world is in danger. Rey tends to him as she searched for a way to heal him.

- holding me like water in your hands for Ceallaigh

After Hux finds out Ben killed Snoke, Hux encases Ben in Carbonite. Rey refuses to let Ben stay frozen forever so she mounts a rescue.

- Like a Thief in the Night for chagrins

Their bond won't let them be alone. At least this time it's the middle of the night and they can't get into a shouting match.

- The Chance for Crysania

When Rey and Ben, long time co-workers who have never been able to admit their feelings to each other, go on a weekend retreat to work on a movie adaptation script together, a Nor’easter leaves them snowed in. On Valentine’s Day.

- Awake for cuddlesome

Something inside him is awake, and something inside her is about to wake up.

An alternate interrogation scene.

- darkness rises, and light to meet it for czechia

After the throne room, Jedi Ben Solo and Kira Ren meet again a year later.

- Not Quite a Fairytale for DarkMage13

Rey lets a stranger use the phone of the café she works at late one night. It changes the whole course of her life.

- You Won't Escape Me ('Cause I Set You Free) for DoorKeeper9

- The Canvas of Your Skin for darlingreadsalot

She was incapable of touching him without drawing blood, it seemed. Lines like vermillion paint streaked where her fingers sketched down the contours of his face, his back, and now his chest.

In which a Force bond is splintered, a resurrection goes wrong, a kiss is forgotten, and two almost-lovers avoid speaking for the better half of a year.

- Fleeing the Storm for driverfever

As the granddaughter of an merciless aristocrat, Rey’s life hangs on a thread at the hands of the French Revolutionaries. When her childhood friend, Ben, offers to platonically marry her in order to take her to his home in England to safety, she has no choice but to accept.

But her suitor and revolutionary Hux won’t give her up so easily. Hounded by revolutionaries and falling in love, Rey and Ben must use all their wits to flee Paris and make it to England.

- Equal Measure for dustoftheancients

When Princess Rey of Coruscant calls upon the cursed Sir Kylo Ren to help her escape her grandfather the emperor’s political machinations, she discovers freedom in the ancient familial magic that binds them together.

- Benimina Solo's Late On-Set Force Ability for Evangel10n

Benimina Solo has never, not even once, had an ounce of Force Sensitivity. She's done a great deal to move on with her life after failing out of her uncle's Jedi training school. So when Rey Palpatine comes into her life and suddenly everything changes, she's not a happy camper.

- Splatter for expendable

“You’re Palpatine’s girl,” he says coldly.

“His chief of staff, yes.” Rey’s eyes narrow. “And you have your hand on my ass, Kylo. Kindly take it off.”

“Or what?”

AKA powerful corporate rivals Kylo and Rey put the hate in love/hate.

- The Haunted Mirror for FangirlintheForest

When Rey travels to UK to attend the reading of his grandfather will, a grandfather she didn't know existed until that very moment, she finds a house, and a old story that will haunt her...

- i'm your secretary for firelord65

Kaydel pressed her lips together in a thin line, passing a pile of datapads over the desk. “I don’t know what that pretentious nerf herder has put into your brain, but these are tales of the key roles women have played in past rebellions.” She stood, tapping the pile. “They’re great reads,” she added, with a pointed raise of her eyebrow.

- and they danced across the sky for flipflop_diva

When he was still a child, he constantly watched the blue butterflies as they danced in the sky.

They seemed to be calling him, aiding him each instance that icy-cold darkness flowed through his very veins. The magnificent creatures saved him from the voices. They drowned out the incessant chatter in his head. Temporarily cleared away all the anger. During those brief respites, watching those blue wings flutter in the sky, Ben felt free.

But that’s another life. Another world. Another time. Another, another, another.

And Kylo's no longer a child.

No. He welcomes the darkness now. Embraces it.

- Finding The Answer for FrenchMartiniPlease

Rey pines for Ben Solo…so why does her soulmate mark always drain of colour whenever she gets close to him?

- Almost Unforgettable for HopeRebel

The woman in the mirror has blood on her clothes, cash in her bag, and a letter from her husband telling her it's better to forget. Well, he got his wish. She forgot everything-- including her name. And she wasn't the only one afflicted.

It'll take the combined efforts of gumshoes, a flatfoot, a washed-up Hollywood starlet, and more to get to the bottom of this bad business. In the end, these things always come back to the beginning.

- The Curl of a Sigh for irridesca

During the last song in Maxine’s set, a song she announces is called “Soul Companion,” Ben heads back out to the lobby to look for Rey. He finds her not with his eyes but with one broad shoulder, when he bumps into her and knocks her gig bag out of her hands and onto the plush carpet.

- and they were roommates for Lady_of_Haven

When Ben loses a bet to his roommate, Rey, he has to eat her out for 30 days.

- torn away from you (my heart is broken) for lakerose

The Force binds more than minds.

- If You Take Me for literallynoonecares

She sighed wistfully as she watched her two friends lean in toward each other as they danced, their lips meeting and melding together as they seemed to become one person instead of two separate beings. She had seen them kiss so many times, but this kiss … it was special.“I just want someone to kiss me like that,” she mused softly to herself, her eyes not leaving her friends.“I could make that happen if you wanted.”

- 3 Days in Vienna for Like_A_Dove

Kylo Ren, trained mercenary Alpha assassin, is on a mission—assassinate Chancellor Palpatine and bring his underground authoritarian regime to an end. It’s what the First Order demands, for the better of society.

It should be an easy task. He’s been getting close to the Chancellor and his cronies for years. So how is it that the unexpected appearance of an Omega, with a seemingly similar mission—and a wholly inconveniencing scent—become a distraction he hadn’t accounted for?

- Confidence and Desire for LittleLostStar

“Stay afraid, but do it anyway. What’s important is the action. You don’t have to wait to be confident. Just do it and eventually, the confidence will follow.” - Carrie Fisher

- Love brightens even the most monstrous parts of ourselves for LRRH17

No one knows since when the giant, black bear has lived in the forest near Theed. Many stories about the origin of Kylo Ren circulate in the small village. After Rey has run away from Jakku, and arrived in Theed she has heard them all of, but has never actually meet the creature. This changes when her and her friends get attacked by bandits on their way back from Otoh Gunga.

- Your Sweetness Comes With Sugar on the Side for Lutrosis

Rey's daughter loses her mother as she wanders around the Supermarket. Ben finds her and the two connect over both being Type 1 diabetics. They find Rey, and Ben and Rey are instantly smitten. As they date and fall in love they discover that Jade and Ben are connected more than they thought and healing is brought to the Solo/Skywalker clan.

- Allegories, or Allusions to Real Life for maq_moon

“Boys, please stop arguing.” Rose rubbed her temples. “Poe, we get it, you’re childhood best buddies, you’ve got a better grasp on his character than some rando of a rando you met at a party. Finn, for fuck’s sake, we’ve been working with Ben for months. I’m pretty sure if he’s a serial killer or whatever, it would have come out by now.” Finn sat back in his seat, grumbling. “Not how serial killers work.” Rey was going to have a headache if this continued any longer, so she lied through her teeth at the reality of a new player joining their D&D party. "He seems nice." She didn’t trust a single inch of skin on that man. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

- A Mad Man, with a Box for MBlair

Rey and Ben meet, move in together, get engaged, and marry.

- Invite the Wild In for midwinterspring

Kylo Ren, the mysterious senator who appeared from out of the deserts of Jakku and somehow brought them back to life, has spent a long and unproductive session on Hosnian Prime. Now, it's time to go home. After all, there's someone waiting for him and so much for them to do together.

(The ancient Sith had some interesting rituals.)

- Purim Party for MissCoppelia

Rey goes back to visit her foster mother for a Purim celebration. She meets Ben Solo who's visiting his parents, who are friends with her foster mother. They have an attraction to each other right away, but try to play it cool.

- The Banished Heart for misszeldasayre

On Rey of Niima’s nineteenth name day, Jakku gains a new wizard.

Jakku is a withering outpost of the kingdom, and its people hope the new wizard - the mysterious Kylo Ren - will bring them the rains the land needs to heal. Rey is a lonely, clanless girl living in Niima, and she has a secret. One she hopes the wizard will be able to help her with too.

- The Smuggler's Bride for MyJediLife

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- Annabel Lee for myownlittleinfinity

Rey keeps finding these ... notes in her locker. She doesn't quite get them. They seem like love notes, but she doesn't know who they could be from. Meanwhile she's paired up with Ben Solo (who hates her despite her gigantic crush on him) for this English assignment. Who knows how THIS will go.

- with my body i thee worship for niennathegrey

Miss Rey Nemo is the new mistress of Manor Takodana, left to her by the late Lord Skywalker. When a strange man named Kylo Ren appears on her doorstep, she decides to hire him as her new groundskeeper. As Rey faces sinister threats and secrets are revealed, Kylo Ren may be the only person who can save her.

- the losing game for no_big_deal

Sith Princess Rey Palpatine is given a peculiar gift for her Life Day: a Jedi. Not only that, one who is boorish, spirited, and stubborn. But, he presents an opportunity: one that could liberate her from a life under the thumb of her grandfather. She has seven weeks to change his heart before all her freedom is taken from her - forever.

- standing right in front of you for notkellymarie

When Senator Solo's engagement is pushed forward, he and his Jedi bodyguard, Rey, travel to Naboo alone for the announcement ball. The pair despise each other, constantly bickering and disagreeing with each other, which makes spending extensive amounts of time alone together all that more difficult. Until of course, one of them breaks...

- the good, the bad, and the smuggling for OccasionallyCreative

Ben Solo is a seasoned smuggler. And he’s not bad at it, either. But when bounty hunter Rey offers him a temporary partnership he can’t refuse, Ben will find himself pushed to the limits of his skill, patience, and resourcefulness on a job that’s dangerous enough to be his last.

It’s like his dad used to say: bounty hunters are nothing but trouble, kid.

- Whatever our souls are made of...his and mine are the same for Padawan_Writer

Ben and Rey meet only after Kylo has defected from the First Order and returned to the Resistance and his mother. Will the dyad still find a way to be?

- They say that only the dead have seen the end of war for politicalpadmé

“He traded his life for mine,” Rey choked, stomping back and forth in front of him so fast he could barely keep track of her. “He died. He died so I didn’t have to—and it’s not—it’s—after everything he’s gone through—it’s not fair.” Tears were running down her cheeks now, and Poe wanted to do nothing more than hug her, but there was nothing he could say—nothing she would want to hear. Poe remembered all the people he’d lost, all the times he had raged and screamed and cried about the unfairness of it all. “Leia sacrificed herself to bring him back,” Rey declared suddenly, ceasing her constant pacing around the fire as she looked straight at him. “And he sacrificed himself for me—and now no one’s going to know. All he’ll be remembered as is Kylo Ren, but he was—he was so much more.” She exhaled with a shudder and whispered, “He was a part of me, and I—I don’t feel whole without him.” ~

A Force Ghost Ben/Rey love story, with a side of rebuilding the galaxy.

- Cicatrix for Priestly

Getting cut up by Rey on Starkiller awakens something in Kylo.

- I Will Always Be With You for Prix

But she wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. She was starting to show, and her friends would start asking questions. She would have to give them answers, some of them would not understand, and none of them would accept.

She carried his child. The tiny spark of light woven with darkness, just like her. Just like his father.

—————

The world has gone dark More times than you Or your mother Or your grandmother Can remember. And every hurricane That was meant to be The end of it all Had instead ended In sunshine again.

So believe me When I say; You will survive this And the next one too.

World’s End—Nikita Gill

- all my daydreams are disasters for QueenOfCarrotFlowers

During her search for the infamous Luke Skywalker — the man who predicted a devastating earthquake in New Madrid, Missouri — Rey finds herself entangled in Luke’s family history and with his brooding nephew, Ben Solo.

- on what ground I was founded (when I first saw you) for redbelles

Kylo dreams of Rey after the Battle of Crait. And the yearning is mutual...

Some Force Bond dream smut inspired by "Shrike" and "NFWMB" by Hozier.

- Last Summer for Reykenobi68

Rey had started to get used to Ben not living next door anymore by the time the holidays came around. Then he's back for the holidays. Rey is really expecting things to go wrong after the way he left at the end of the summer. ut is it really going to be that bad.

- The Long Way Home for reylotrash711

In the aftermath of Exegol, Ben and Rey are divided by misunderstandings.  It will take time and danger for them to work things out.

- Under the moonlight for shariling

I don't know why I followed you here. She wanted to reply. Maybe because you're so tall I couldn't help but notice you. Maybe it's because of your hair or the way you move, or maybe it's because of that kind of melancholic look in your eyes. There is something about you that I find terribly attractive and I don’t know what it is: maybe the moon or the alcohol or the wolf I have met before infected me with some strange parasite and now I am hopelessly attracted to dogs, I do not know. She could have said one of these things, any of them, instead she said: “I've never bitten anyone before, and I want you to be my first.”

- Fallen for shipperofdarkness

Prompt: Devil!Ben and Angel!Rey or Angel!Ben and Devil!Rey. How do these two on completely opposite sides fall in love and defy worlds to be together?

- come away with me for silentfleur

Rey owns a tinker shop, but her life changes when she meets Ben Solo and is cursed by a witch. Not necessarily in that order.

- A Picture of Me Without You for SpaceWaffleHouseTM

"I suppose I'd somehow struggle through / But I'd hate to picture myself without you."

It's impossible not to have a soulmark. It's not a big deal, not in the lax and gin-soaked speakeasies of 1920s Manhattan, but it's still a heavy weight to bear, as Ben Solo and Rey find out side by side.

- Lips Raw With Love for stellardarlings

Their kiss on Exegol wasn't their first kiss...

Nor would it be their last.

- Everyone Makes Divine Mistakes for Takekurabehime

Jedi Knight Ben Solo is sent to Naboo on an errand of mercy (and to visit his grandparents). He arrives in springtime; but will he be able to complete his mission without finding himself distracted and bewildered when love and intrigue waft through the fragrant air?

- Glitter & Gold for TearoomSaloon

Rey is lead singer in an up-and-coming glam metal band. They've finally got steady performances, but that means playing at the same club as the Knights of Ren, whose lead singer definitely isn't interested in any competition.

- To kiss like lovers do for the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Ben and Rey spend their formative years growing up together in Medieval Scotland and it looks like they will end up together. Circumstances intervene and Rey loses her chance to be with him. Devastated, she carries on until the day clan Ren attacks Castle Jakku lead by the notorious killer Kylo Ren.

- Snow Turns To Rain for thehobbem

For a moment, he wanted to ask what she meant, but if he was being completely honest, he already knew.  He asked himself that same question over the years, and none more often than tonight, since seeing her again.  Was leaving worth it?  Was going their separate ways worth leaving each other?

 “I’m not sure,” he said finally, shaking his head.  “I’m happy...” he said, and she tensed a little, so he continued, “with my work.  I’m glad I’m doing what I love, but....”

 “But?”

 “But it wasn’t the only thing I loved.”

- Change the Dance for theresonatinglight

- Meet Me in the Woods for thewayofthetrashcompactor (BriarLily)

“What do you mean no one goes in there?” A chuckle. “It’s haunted. People see all sorts of weird things in there and some don’t ever come out. You’re better off living with your curiosity.” Rey wakes in a shadowy forest with no memory of where she came from, only her name. With the help of the resident guardian she takes a journey to figure out her past, and maybe even discover her future.

- permanent calligraphy (your name on me forever) for Thursdaygirl

As they continue to work together, two things become clear. One: Ben Solo is an enigma. He’s preppy yet humble, privileged yet introspective. He’s the opposite of lazy; she kicks herself every day for assuming otherwise. And two: Ben Solo will never love her.

- show me the stars. for tmwillson3

“I don’t hate Christmas, I just don’t love it the way you do.” Lifting his head, he pulls a face, loosening up a tangled ornament of a poodle with pink, curly fluff. Rey snatches it from him possessively, tossing it back to the cart. “No one loves it the way you do, to be fair.”

“Now that’s the truth,” says Poe, who Finn invited about half an hour ago to keep him company.

“People have bad taste, I don’t know what to say.” Huffing, Rey scrolls through her phone with more intent. “Neither of you are helping me, anyway.”

“What’s the problem?” says Poe.

“Rey thinks her hot neighbor hates her —”

“He does hate me.”

“ — When really he’s been flirting with her for the past, oh I don’t know, how long have you lived there?”

- I realized that I need you, I wondered if I could come home for VR_Trakowski

Rey is doing exploration work for the Resistance, searching for force sensitive planets so any force sensitives that they find have a place to train.

One day, midflight she finds a slip of paper with the elegant scrawling words of the ones that came before. The ones that she found when Ben still roamed the galaxy.

When she lands on a dark and barren planet she is forced to face the feelings she thought she buried.

- Shadows of the Moon for walkingsaladshooter

The hallways got darker, the corridors grew longer. Shadows stretched across the walls. The ghosts of Breha Manor grew each night.

Rey clutched her necklace. Ben met her gaze.

And every night, there was weeping.

- show the way (the world could be) for writergenie

In the aftermath of the Battle of Crait, Rey struggles to find her place among the Resistance. However, her lingering Force bond with Kylo— Ben— whatever name he calls himself— complicates things, blurring the line between friend and foe.

When the tension threatens to boil over and a desperate plan goes awry, Rey begins to wonder whether there really is a line between light and dark after all.

(Stars do burn brightest in the blackness of space.)

- why don't we go (somewhere only we know) for XarisEirene

The bond snaps back into place, even stronger than before. He is here. With Rey, yes, but with Luke - Luke, who is looking at them now with that same dangerous glint in his eye that haunts Ben’s dreams.

- renewed, transfigured, in another pattern for yodalorian

Rey mourns on Tatooine while Ben is stuck in the World Between Worlds. But neither of them are alone, and blue butterflies light a path back to each other.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction anthology #rffa writers #to find your kiss #master post #mod post #photo edit

[sleepylixie]

Of Walls and Wonderlands

College! Kim Seungmin  X fem! reader, Imperium Universe

1.8k words, Fluff, College! AU, Friends to (future)lovers

A/N: Soft Uni Seungmin was so difficult to write though?? I really hope I caught his aura right >.< ONTO THE FIC!! Do send me feedback, I’d love to hear what you think of this ficc >.<

Imperium Universe || Jisung ||Seungmin || Chan || Lee Know ||

If anybody had told you a year ago that you’d be dating a guitar-playing, puppy-eyed law student with a sharp tongue, you’d have laughed in their face and brushed them off. You weren’t the type to date- you weren’t the type for romance at all. 

Growing up as the youngest sibling in a family full of talent and outspoken opinions, you’d built a wall around yourself very early on to protect your own smaller, more personal sentiments. It was possible that very wall that left you a closed-off, almost intimidating air that made people think twice about approaching you. You didn’t mind it, really. It was peaceful, within those walls, an isolated wonderland that nobody could ruin for you. 

That is until a certain Kim Seungmin came along. It was almost easy, falling for him; Seungmin was the kind of boy that anybody could end up falling for. You didn’t expect your feelings for him to be returned, of course. You knew how you were- cold, prickly, almost unpleasant, a complete opposite to his warm, open self. 

Surprisingly enough, that wasn’t the case.

//

You first saw Seungmin at Imperium, the bar closest to your campus. Imperium, however, served a completely different purpose to those who knew of it: It was an entrance to the heart of the underground fight club network in your city. And you just so happened to be one of its’ sweethearts. 

Minor fact about you:

You were a kickboxer. A good one at that. 

You had a knack for it, the way your siblings had a knack for writing or dancing. When one of your gym trainers introduced you to the underground fight scene the summer after high school, you didn’t hesitate for a second before agreeing to join. Now halfway through university, you and your best friend were two of the best fighters the Imperium fight club had.

Changbin, your gym trainer, had told you to scope out competition for the new season, which was why you were at the club despite not having fights that day.  The two of you had hung around a corner of the basement, talking to acquaintances, until Changbin asked you if you wanted to meet some of his friends. 

Your hesitant agreement had him leading you to a rowdy group of 4 guys, who seemed more than happy to meet one of the club’s fighters. They introduced themselves one by one- you even recognized Hyunjin, the cheeky blonde bookie that loved to take your best friend’s bets before her fights. 

Seungmin was true to his words, he really was a simple guy. You spoke throughout the evening, a rarity for you. He was a law major, the same year as you, a bathroom singer and an ardent DAY6 fan. He was unconstrained with his smiles and open with his opinions, razor-sharp with his wit and dry with his humour. It was so easy to talk to him, even for you- the kind of person who wasn’t much for small talk.

The last boy that spoke caught your eye. He was a little taller than the other guys, eyes a sparkling brown even in the harsh lighting of the basement. “Hi, I’m Seungmin,” His voice was soft, melodic, almost. You nodded slightly at the boys, a small smile slipping across your face as you introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know you,” exclaimed Minho, one of the other guys. “Aren’t you the one that won the rookie championship last year?” The rest of the boys regarded you with renewed curiosity, looks that you were used to. A girl in the circuit was still rare, much less a championship winner.

“Yeah.”

You spent the rest of the evening with the boys, mostly because you were intrigued by the boy called Seungmin. He kept up an easy conversation with you, calming despite the clamor and rage ripping across the basement after the fight slots began.

“This doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”

He smiled at your comment, a show of pearly teeth and cosy warmth. “It isn’t. I got dragged here because Hyunjin thought I was spending too long with my textbooks.”

“So what is your kinda scene?” You were surprised at yourself, you never took the effort of keeping up a conversation like this- but Seungmin made you curious, you had to find out more.

“I’m a simple guy, really,” He laughed- he was cute, you thought. Really, really cute.

“You get me ice cream good music and good company, I’m yours.”

When the night winded down, he shyly asked to exchange numbers with you after insisting on walking you home.  How could you not agree, especially with the way he looked at you, curious and admiring?

//

Your friendship with Seungmin progressed quickly- You met up a lot, explored cafes and had impromptu midnight grocery runs together. He was fun, almost puppy-like in his enthusiasm, his vibe so alluring that you ended up buying into it too.  There was a lot of banter between both of you, effortlessly silly and extremely witty. Seungmin was the type to hound you with random tidbits of trivia, things you wondered why he even knew of. But it was so... So characteristic of him that you just found it endearing. Even his sharp, acerbic wit. Especially his sharp, acerbic wit.

Seungmin left you with warm cheeks and a wide smile, he felt like the kind of person you didn’t have to keep your walls up around. It felt nice, suddenly, to have somebody who could live in your wonderland with you and not judge you one bit.

The months passed faster with Seungmin,  like a whirlwind of strawberry smoothies and fried chicken. There was an almost magnetic aura around him- maybe it was his charming boy-next-door smile or the way he carried himself, looking almost small, diminutive in stature despite his frame bordering on lanky. Over the months, you’d realized that maybe you enjoyed your time with Seungmin way more than you thought you would,  maybe you had a little bit of a crush on him, maybe you’d wanted to peck his pretty lips more than one time before…

When he asked you to join him on a movie night with his roommates, you couldn’t refuse.  Turned out, Jisung and his girlfriend enjoyed your company so much that you became a constant addition to their movie nights. So you found yourself frequenting Seungmin’s quaint, well-organized apartment every Saturday with assorted junk food, and the quiet excitement of meeting Seungmin again.

He turned up at one of your kickboxing sessions one day, watching in pure awe as Changbin took you through the motions of training for the new season.  After asking if you were okay with him dropping by, he made it a point to turn up as often as possible, his guitar slung across his back. “You’re so good at this,” he’d say every time Changbin allowed you a break. Your heart would flutter a little every time, leaving you slightly flustered and warm in the face.

After you were done, he’d walk you home, sometimes pulling you into the park on the way and playing songs for you on the guitar. 

//

“Holy fucking shit.” Seungmin’s reaction to your slightly battered frame was instantaneous,  grabbing you gently by the shoulders and ushering you into his apartment. “It’s not that bad, I just need a few bandaids.” You protested, hissing softly at the sting that your split lip brought when you spoke. Seungmin scanned your frame quickly,  marking the spots on your body that you seemed to carry heavy or marked with specks of blood.

A heavy silence weighed down on the room, a silence which demanded you break. “Sorry I had to disturb,” your voice came out smaller than you expected. “I got jumped a few blocks away from here, and this was the first safe place I could think of.”

His roommates took in your state from their perch on the kitchen counter, Jisung’s eyes wide in alarm. His girlfriend(and Seungmin’s third roommate) hopped off the counter, hurrying towards you and Seungmin.

“Min, you know where the first aid kit is, right?” She asked, taking your hand as she gently pulled you towards her room. “Get it to the kitchen, I’ll get Y/N a change of clothes.” 

Soon enough, you were sat on Jisung’s previous perch on the kitchen counter, Seungmin giving you a stern once over as he tended to your injuries. Jisung and his girlfriend seemed to have retreated into one of the bedrooms, possibly to give you and Seungmin some space. 

“What happened, darling?” He asked softly, knelt in front you as he dabbed antiseptic onto your knee. “One of the guys I beat last week wanted revenge,” you sighed, swallowing a hiss at the sting. “so he decided to jump me with some buddies.” You tried really hard to ignore the new nickname- a nickname you liked very much when he used it.

Seungmin’s head shot up, eyes flashing in incredulity. “Isn’t that against the rules?!” He asked, temporarily abandoning his ministrations. “Yeah, I’ll make a report tomorrow, he’ll probably get booted for this.” you shrugged. 

“He probably wasn’t expecting me to be able to talk after? I don’t know.” 

You’d never seen that dark look flash across your sweet boyfriend’s eyes before. “That sick bastard.” He never swore, your warm Seungmin. 

“It’s okay, Min,” you murmured, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I know it’s okay,” Seungmin said, standing up to focus on the injuries on your face and collar. “You enjoy kickboxing way too much to be fazed by something like this, I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just...” 

He sighed, leaning closer to you as he checked on your split lip. “It scares me a little every time you end up hurt.”You could see the sprinkle of a blush heating up his cheekbones as he spoke the words, still focused on your lip. You couldn’t help it, a smile spread across your face, broad and unrestrained. Seungmin stopped and stepped back, his eyes wide with wonder. “You’re so beautiful…” the words left his mouth before he could stop them, and a rush of heat gave you a blush that mirrored Seungmin’s own.

“I- um-”

“That’s probably the first time I’ve ever seen you flustered,” he observed, a lopsided smile on his face. You returned his grin as much as you could without jostling your lip too much. Something had switched in the energy between you at his compliment, there was warm electricity where there was usually cool and easy banter.

It was new, unfamiliar, but strangely enough, you didn’t hate it.

“You should stay here for the night,” Seungmin offered, still in the soft voice he’d used before. “I’d end up worrying about you all night if you went home like this.”

“Okay.”

And that was how Jisung found the two of you next morning cuddled on the couch, Seungmin holding you with your head nuzzled into his neck, lost to the world. Even in sleep, Seungmin was careful of your newly acquired injuries, hands light around your waist and softly tangled in your hair.

It was warm in your wonderland, and it was all because of Seungmin.

#inkidz #districtninewriters #seungmin #stray kids seungmin #kim seungmin fluff #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz oneshots #stray kids au #stray kids fanfiction #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #ellaskz #skz angst #skz au #Imperium Universe

[i-need-entertainment]

Haikyuu!! Boys and what Romcom I think they’d fit in

Characters: Akaashi, Washio, Konoha, Kita, Suna, Ushijima, Yahaba, Iwaizumi, Futakuchi and Daishou.

*SOME OF THESE MAY BE A STRETCH I am aware of that BUT JUST HEAR ME OUT! IT WORKS I SWEAR!*

*SPOILER WARNING!! I don’t go too in depth about the movies, but if you haven’t seen them, it might spoil them but Idk*

Akaashi Keiji: “The Wedding Singer”

I love the idea of him being this cool, and collected guy that everyone loves and we just see him sNaP.

I think he’d be the most likely to fall in love with someone in a similar situation to him, and to fall in love with someone who’s engaged (that sounds bad, but liSten) but not happy.

Then he fights for them because HE wants to be the one they love, and he wants to love them like they deSERVE to be loved.

And I think it would EnD me to see him rush to the airport and get his girl.

Washio Tatsuki: “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”

He’s a caring and respectful dude, so I see him as taking someone’s family/traditions seriously.

Hence why I think HE specifically fits perfectly for this movie.

He probably meets the reader at work, and BOOM love.

But when the reader tells him about their flamboyant family, he’s just like ‘cool, when can I meet them?’ Y’knOw?

Might be a bit startled at first cause he’s a pretty chill man himself, but I think he’d warm up to the family just fine.

Konoha Akinori: “Mr. Right”

AGAIN a stretch I KNOW. 

But if anyone on this list could pull off falling love by accident AND as an assassin? 

Yeah I think it’d be him.

He’s kind of a brat, so the whole rollercoaster kinda love works for him.

I also would just love to see him as an assassin.

idk man, but I think his personality (minus the murderous traits) fits with Sam Rockwell's character well.

Kita Shinsuke: “Sweet Home Alabama”

I promise this was not just because of the series I’m writing, iT JUST FITS!

I see him as the most likely on this list to marry their high school sweetheart.

And then the whole separation/enemies to lovers thing it just works.

THINK ABOUT IT, he’s in one of the more rural parts of Japan, he becomes a farmer, and he has an accent?!?!

The signs are there people.

Suna Rintaro: “When In Rome”

He comes off as a lazy and carefree guy, but he does have feelings, he just hides them.

Puts on a joking and carefree demeanor to hide how he actually feels about things/past events.

I just feel like the whole trope and storyline of this particular movie fits with his character well.

Much like Akaashi, I see him falling for someone with a bad boyfriend or something like that, and proving to the girl how he’d be better to her or something like that.

Ushijima Wakatoshi: “She’s The Man”

He takes his job as captain very seriously.

So just imagine this scrawny little “guy” joins Shiratorizawa’s boy’s volleyball team to spite her ex who played at a different school (*cough* OIKAWA).

I love the idea of the reader falling in love with Ushijima as she’s learning more about herself and proving herself.

And I feel like it’d be funny to see his reaction when he finds out the scrawny little “newbie” is a girl who he has fEeLiNgs fOr.

Yahaba Shigeru: “Music and Lyrics”

If anyone on this list could pull off being a cocky one-hit wonder it’s Yahaba.

I love the idea of him falling in love with a wanna be song writer, but messing up.

So now he has to fix it by professing his love to her with the song they wrote.

It just  f i t s.

Iwaizumi Hajime: “Romancing The Stone”

This is an older one but it’s really good! Like Kita’s I watched this one and just thought “Iwaizumi+Mountain man....Okay”

So imagine you’re a hopeless romantic romance-adventure author who has to go to South America to give this map to some guys or else your sister dies.

AND THEN you meet this attractive, rugged, ex-mercenary man who saves you from all this stuff and begrudgingly agrees to help you get there.

And along the way when you’re not being shot at the two of you ~fall in love~ but then you find out he *lied* and now you’re `mad` but it’s okay cause it all works out in the end.

Futakuchi Kenji: “You’ve Got Mail”

The master of the enemies to lovers trope.

Definitely annoys the reader to no end, but it’s just covering up the two’s feelings for the other.

He fits the whole cold problematic business man who falls for the owner of the small bookstore he wants to turn into a mall.

His problematic family doesn’t help much either but WiLL ThAt StOp HiM? no

I just like the idea of him getting transformed by the reader and falling in love when they hated each other.

Daishou Suguru: “To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before”

Another master of the enemies to lovers trope.

I also see him fitting into the ‘fake date to make the ex-girlfriend jealous’ as his payment to helping the reader fend off all of her ‘accidental’ suitors.

I definitely see him as someone to go above and beyond in his actions, then actually fall in love with the girl he’s ‘dating’ then he’s just like...oops.

I also would like to see him tell off his ex cause now he’s in love with the girl he was fake dating.

And yeah, I just think this one works for him.

#akaashi x reader #washio x reader #konoha x reader #kita x reader #suna x reader #ushijima x reader #yahaba x reader #iwaizumi x reader #futakuchi x reader #daishou x reader #ngl i kinda wanna write all of these now #y/n #haikyu x reader #Haikyu!! #haikyuufanfiction #hq imagines #hq scenarios #hq headcanons

[foreverfeelslike]

The Stories Behind folklore: an analysis

Get ready for a wild ride. I know the point of these songs/stories is that they are fragmented and based on imagery, so I don’t really believe that there is a completely linear, fleshed out story and I think multiple characters could have been the speakers to the same songs. There is definitely evidence against my version of the story. Either way, Taylor clearly left easter eggs to a bigger picture, so here is my interpretation of it.

Characters:

Betty (who is Rebekah Harkness)

James (Betty’s first boyfriend and husband who cheated on her multiple times)

The mistress

The other guy at the dance during mirrorball

Husband 2

Taylor (and Joe)

Order:

cardigan (young Betty, this is where our story starts, also Taylor helped by making this the first single): I will start by saying this song has numerous ties to Taylor’s life. “Vintage tee” references her 1989 era, “sequined smile, black lipstick, sensual politics” references her reputation era. This is Betty speaking, but Betty resembles Taylor a lot. And Betty is young and intelligent “when you are young they assume you know nothing.” Then we have “I knew you” immediately after “they assume you know nothing,” so Betty knows James is going to cheat on her. “Dancin’ in your Levis” sounds a lot like “dark jeans and you Nikes” from Delicate, so this resembles Taylor and Joe again. Taylor was obviously in a low time when she met Joe, feeling like “an old cardigan” but Joe saved her. Here, we learn that Betty was insecure and the attention from James made her feel loved. Then she references the cheating, foreshadowing the whole story “chase two girls, lose the one.” James cheats on Betty, and loses the one (a reference to the mistress, who James does not end up with.  James and Betty end up getting married, but the mistress feels like James was her 1. This is also a reference to how James continues to cheat on Betty during their marriage and Betty leaves him, so he loses the one. Remember the difference in writing between the 1 and the one because it comes up in hoax, differentiating Betty and the mistress). “Playing hide-and-seek and giving me your weekends...once in twenty lifetimes” is still part of Betty and James’s story, the wonderful beginning of their relationship, but resembles Taylor and Joe secretly dating. Especially the “twenty lifetimes” part which is eerily reminiscent of “twenty seconds or twenty years” from Lover. “Kiss in cars and downtown bars” is also like Delicate again, and Joe clearly drew stars around Taylors scars. Betty is “bleeding now though, because James ends up cheating on her after having healed her. Betty saw that it would happen all along, and “tried to change the ending” by giving him multiple chances. “The ending”/“film”/“movie” will come up a lot. Betty takes James back because she knew that if she didn’t, James would “haunt all of my what-ifs.” She also knows she’d “curse him for the longest time,” which will come up again too. James comes back after cheating on Betty the first time (the events of the song betty) and is standing on her front porch.

mirrorball (Betty): This song is from Betty’s perspective, an innocent girl at a school dance who is highly insecure. She is on her “tallest tiptoes,” showing that she is balancing and about to fall over. We know this is Betty because she is ”spinning” on her “highest heels,” as referenced in the song cardigan. (There is also a reference to James being “the master of spin,” in mad woman, showing that she had fallen into his trap.) We know Betty will “change everything” about herself to fit in or make things work, showing her insecurity, vulnerability, and tendency to self-silence. So we can also see that she will take James back in the future even though she knows “the end is near.” “The end is near” because this is “where it all went wrong,” as James says in the song betty in reference to this dance. James stands her up (or so she thinks) at the dance, (“Your favorite song was playing, From the far side of the gym, I was nowhere to be found, I hate the crowds, you know that, Plus, I saw you dance with him” is James’s perspective of this event). So Betty dances with another guy, “trying everything to keep you looking at me.” So she is trying to make James jealous and prevent him from leaving or cheating on her, which she knows is about to happen (remember, she is intelligent/can see the future as stated in cardigan). We see that she is on a “tightrope,” showing the danger and fragility of her and the relationship. Now this next part is extremely important: “I’m still a believer but I don’t know why… all I do is try, try, try.” This will come up in hoax and this is me trying. It also shows her willingness to try to make this work when she knows it won’t.

august (the mistress): This song opens with “salt air, rust on your door,” two images that easily fit into a teenagers house in the summer. Keep in mind that “rust” comes up again in this is me trying and “salt air” could be a reference to the Rhode Island house, but we’ll worry about that later. I won’t stay long on this song because it is obviously the first affair when James cheats on Betty with the mistress. We see the car that’s referenced  in Betty, blah blah blah. The mistress was living “for the hope of it all,” a clue that she is the singer of the 1.

betty (James): 17 year old James shows up asking for forgiveness from Betty after cheating on her in august with the mistress. James clearly really cares about Betty “When I passed your house it’s like I couldn’t breathe,” “I know I miss you,” “slept next to her but I dreamt of you all summer long,” and he’s planned this moment in his head. Hear is the first image of someone walking up to a door/waiting at a door and someone at a party that somehow doesn’t belong. I’m still a bit confused on these images because they repeat with different contexts and possible characters/scenarios… but this thing might not be a linear story so it’s okay. Important to note here: James did not know if Betty would take him back or tell him to go fuck himself. Betty, whose character we know to be insecure and overly forgiving, is obviously going to take him back, but James is terrible at reading her mind. 

the 1 (the mistress, after James and Betty get married): “The greatest films of all time were never made,” is another reference to the “film,” “movie,” what have you. This film was NOT made though, referencing the mistress and James who never had a real relationship. It’s not that this film didn’t have an ending, it’s that it never existed at all. The mistress says James is “Having adventures on your own, you meet some woman on the internet and take her home.” This is not a reference to the woman whom James marries, but the extra-marital adventures he is having despite being married. The mistress used to be a part of these adventures, but now she’s not only not the wife, she’s not even the mistress. Further clues that this isn’t Betty: “We never painted by the numbers baby,” indicating that their relationship didn’t follow the rules. Also “roaring twenties,” could be a reference to august slipping “away like a bottle of wine.” But instead, the rosé is “flowing with your chosen family.”

illicit affairs (James, cheating on Betty during their marriage): Why “illicit” and not just “affairs”? Because Betty and James are now married, so this is even worse than him cheating on her when they were dating/together in high school. This song is much more adult and scary/paranoid than august or betty. This affair is serious and secretive and dangerous. “Keep your head down, “Tell your friends you were out for a run” have much more terrified tones than the way the first affair was talked about. James is an adult, this is during his marriage, and we know it’s him because he has cheated before, is still having “adventures” with an internet woman, and breaks the multiple chances that Betty gives him (evidence coming soon). Still trying to figure out “what started in beautiful rooms ends with meetings in parking lots.” Could be a reference to the second affair beginning in the rhode island mansion, but the timing doesn’t work out. “Meetings in parking lots” parallels “meet me behind the mall,” but that’s all I got. Now we have “a drug that only worked the first few hundred times,” proving that James keeps cheating and cheating. We also have “stolen stares, they show their truth one single time but they lie and they lie and they lie.” James tells Betty the truth about cheating once, during the events of betty. Then he continues to cheat and lie to her. He does this “a million little times,” mirroring the “million pieces” that Betty knows she will break into (when she falls off the tightrope) during mirrorball. It hasn’t been said yet, but Betty knows James is cheating and begins to mentally breakdown, becoming an alcoholic and almost committing suicide (see exile, this is me trying, and hoax for evidence, but I’m also not sure about the timeline). 

exile (James, after Betty leaves him): It starts with James reliving the events of mirrorball in his head, watching her dance with the other guy, leaving him out in the hall with all his love (“I can see you standing, honey, With his arms around your body”).  James has “seen this film before “and “didn’t like the ending” because he cheated on her and then she broke up with him (the first time). “You’re not my homeland anymore” and he is in “exile.” Betty cut him out and we see that James thinks of Betty as home (this will come up in my tears ricochet). Betty has given James “second, third, and hundredth chances,” showing that she did forgive him and he continued to cheat and she knew. Betty, who was walking on a “tightrope” earlier, falls on breaking branches and saying “those eyes add insult to injury,” referencing the stares from illicit affairs. James is blind-sighted by Betty leaving (remember during the events of betty, James is bad at reading her mind) “you never gave a warning sign.” Immediately after, Betty responds saying “I gave so many signs,” referencing her mental struggle and alcoholism? (coming in this is me trying) that he somehow never noticed. There is proof this is about James cheating because James says “I couldn’t turn things around…”

TLGAD (Betty/Rebekah Harkness, the timing I’m not sure of but I’ll explain): So this song is about Rebekah Harkness, which you can Wikipedia or Google to prove. Rebekah also went by Betty (Taylor’s mind wtf). Rebekah is a “middle-class divorcée, so she has left James at the time of this song and now lives in the Rhode Island mansion. She gets married again “the wedding was charming.” Then he mysteriously dies “it must have been her fault his heart gave out.” The words “loudest,” “shameless,” and “madest” appear in this song, so this is the woman from mad woman. Rebekah/Betty quickly “gave up” on the Rhode Island set, giving up on her new life/husband, throwing huge parties with her “Bitch Pack friends” where the pools are filled with champagne (sounds like reputation Taylor doesn’t it?). But this crazy woman is also known to be “seen on occasion pacing the rocks, staring out at the midnight sea” (see hoax and this is me trying). Then it becomes Taylor, who reveals that the Rhode Island house is now her Rhode Island house, and who draws connections between herself and Rebekah/Betty ruining everything. (From now on, I will refer to Rebekah/Betty as only Betty again.)

hoax (Betty suring the events of TLGAD): “My only one,” is a reference to James, the only man she ever loved. (Remember the 1 vs the one I talked about in cardigan? Also it doesn’t seem like she loved her second husband.) “This had broken me down,” refers to her mental downfall resulting in her alcoholism, leaving James, going wild at the Rhode Island house, and eventually ending up on the cliffside (Betty said in mirrorball when she breaks it’s in a million pieces). “Twisted knife,” is James stabbing her in the back by cheating multiple times. “Sleepless nights,” are the nights she has spent without him since, and are later referenced in my tears ricochet. She “stood on the cliffside screaming “Give me a reason.” She’s the woman from TLGAD and she’s so heartbroken without James that she almost kills herself. She still believes her and James could be together “Your faithless love’s the only hoax I believe in.” (Remember “I’m still a believer but I don’t know why” from cardigan?) Then we have a reason for why she goes back to James even when he has cheated on her “Don't want no other shade of blue but you, No other sadness in the world would do.” She’d rather be with a faithless lover than alone. Here comes her statement of blame: “I am ash from your fire,” which will come up in my tears ricochet. The “hero” from the “movie” comes back too: “You knew the hero died so what’s the movie for? You knew it still hurts underneath my scars.” We said that the movie is Betty and James’s relationship, but Betty knows that her old self, pure Betty, is dead (the old Taylor is dead? hmmmm). Then I get confused, “You knew the password so I let you in the door.” Could this be a reference to the first time James comes back to her and asks for forgiveness during the events of betty? Could the pure Betty/hero have died during the first affair, but is so insecure (which James knows, since he knows the password) that she lets him come back anyway? Also “scars,” anyone? That shit’s from cardigan too. 

this is me trying (Betty, who comes back to James? Most of the events take place earlier in the story, but we need put the song here because she is reflecting back). So I’m struggling with when she became an alcoholic. Maybe it is after she left James and went to Rhode Island, because she says “I’ve been having a hard time adjusting.” This is Betty because she had the “shiniest wheels,” calling back to her being a shiny mirrorball. She has left James, but is going back to him “I didn’t know if you’d care that I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that.” She regrets leaving James, a CHEATER. This must be Betty, who gives this guy so many chances and still loves him despite him destroying her. Now Betty is “here in your doorway.” She says, “this is me trying” to make things work, to pick herself up again (Remember “all I do is try, try, try” from cardigan?). Then we have “all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential” which resembles people calling her crazy in TLGAD and her new life being thrown away because she was mentally unstable. Keep “my words shoot to kill when I’m mad,” in mind for later. Betty was destined for a good life, being ahead of the curve and a sphere (mirrorball?) but she breaks and turns to a stranger (husband 2?). Then we know during her Rhode Island parties, she was thinking about James the whole time: “And it's hard to be at a party when I feel like an open wound, It's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you, You're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town.” Hello… “film,” “town,” “the one,” and “wound!” Then… “at least I’m trying,” because JAMES ISN’T TRYING HE KEEPS CHEATING!!! But Betty is back with James. (There is no happy ending though, because the “hero” is dead and Betty’s mental stability isn’t coming back.)

mad woman (Betty, after she is back with James): This has to be after TLGAD/this is me trying but before my tears ricochet. Betty goes back, but the relationship isn’t going to work. Betty is a mad woman: “Does a scorpion sting when fighting back? They strike to kill, and you know I will.” (like “my words shoot to kill when I’m mad” from this is me trying). Then we have “What do you sing on your drive home?” referencing the cars, affairs, and how when Betty is in the car, she stops at the lookout/cliffside instead of having affairs. Then we see Betty is mad… she asks if James sees “my face in the neighbor’s lawn?” as if she is spying on him? Or is she talking about the dog she dyed green, who represents the fact that she has gone mad? (They are at the Rhode Island house.) Then we see the callback to the first time James cheated when he was cared Betty would tell himm to fuck himself, but this time, Betty as a mad woman says “fuck you forever.” Now Betty is the one on fire “I breathe flames.” Then I get confused again. Betty says “It's obvious that wanting me dead, Has really brought you two together.” Obviously James is cheating again, but is this Betty being mad and over paranoid? James definitely doesn’t want Betty dead, which we see in my tears ricochet. I think this shows that Betty is really unhinged. Further proof that this is Betty and James: “I’m taking my time,” means she’s playing the “good” wife again, but the “master of spin has a couple of side flings.”

my tears ricochet (James is dead, and Betty is at his wake, but also Taylor and Big Machine Records): “Weeping in a sunlit room” could be a reference to the fact that they are in Rhode Island (“it was sunny” from TLGAD). James, who speaks from the grave, says “If I’m on fire, you’ll be made of ashes too,” saying that while he did something wrong, Betty is going to suffer too (for killing him? Also remember “I am ash from your fire,” from hoax). James acknowledges his wrongs, but indicates that Betty, as a mad woman, did something even worse: “And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you 'Til my dying day.” So yeah, James is an asshole, but apparently he did care for Betty. James “didn’t have it in myself to go with grace,” so he cheated right up until the end. James is “dead to” Betty, who is clearly done with him for cheating all this time, but Betty is “at the wake” (because all this time, she really wanted things to work out too?). Betty is “cursing my name, wishing I stayed,” in reference to wishing James had never cheated and Betty knowing she’d “curse him for the longest time,” as stated in cardigan. James is dead and Betty is alive because the living character is wearing “the same jewels that I gave you,” right after the song mentions “diamonds.” Proof that her former husband is dead. (This doesn’t seem like husband #2 at all, especially because the dead character, James, says “I can go anywhere I want, just not home,” which sounds like a clear reference to exile to me.) He also says “when you can’t sleep at night you hear my stolen lullabies,” referencing “sleepless nights” from hoax, and the “lullabies” he should have sang her but that went to mistresses instead, hence being “stolen.” Then he says “You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same...drunk on this pain,” which sounds like him saying that Betty goes into a downward spiral (being a mad woman). And Betty, at least old, pure Betty, dies too, since James’s tears ricochet. (I’ve also read a theory that this is about Taylor’s struggle with Big Machine, but I can’t find that post.)

Anyway, I know some things don’t make sense. I’ve been writing this for five hours straight. This is just one interpretation. folklore is beautiful and Taylor is a masterpiece. Thanks for reading!

@taylorswift @taylorswift

#folklore #taylor swift #taylor nation #ts8 #ts8 theories #the 1 #cardigan #the last great american dynasty #exile #my tears ricochet #mirrorball #seven #august #this is me trying #illicit affairs #invisible string #mad woman #epiphany #betty #peace #hoax

[ship-enthusiast]

Prompt: Modern Destiel AU

Teacher!Castiel x Youtuber!Dean

3.2k words

TW: mild swearing

Castiel Novak was a socially inept introvert to those who personally knew him and just a quiet guy to those who didn’t. He never knew his mother and had an absent father throughout his childhood. Despite the terrible credentials, his father had adopted a boy before Castiel was born from Africa named Uriel. He also had an older half-sister named Anna whom he was closest to throughout his childhood.

Castiel and Uriel were terrible step-siblings with Uriel always bullying Cas into submission during their childhood. Since his home wasn’t a safe place, he would often find sanctuary at the local library and immersed himself in history and literature. He had a short-term girlfriend named Hester whom he dated for a few months as a teenager when he was under the pressure of his father to date girls. Not wanting to disappoint him further, Cas tried to court his dad’s business friend’s daughter but it ended up a mess since Cas was, well, gayer than a rainbow unicorn.

Due to his excellent grades, he was offered a full-ride scholarship to the University of Kansas. He accepted the offer because he wanted to get as far away from home as he could and got his bachelor’s degree in education before interning at a public school. Because he loved working at the high school so much, he decided to become a substitute teacher for the district.

While subbing for a variety of teachers, he worked for his master’s degree in American history and was offered a permanent teacher’s position when one of them retired. On the side of subbing for teachers, Castiel worked at a coffee shop in a neighboring city. Although he was still shy and reserved, he managed to make a friend named Meg who was a regular at the coffee shop. At that time he met a downcast Dean Winchester who had just lost his father. He would usually meet up with his brother, Sam, at Cas’s coffee shop since Sam attended the nearby university. Sometimes Dean would stay behind when his brother left and that’s when Castiel introduced himself and the two bonded over their love-hate relationships with their parental figures.

Dean always expressed how he felt like he was a failure for never going to college when Castiel encourages him to go for a job or start something he wants to do. Dean had a side hobby of making videos as a kid because his family would move around a lot so he liked to film entertaining short videos of him and Sam to stay in touch with old friends. The friendships never lasted and the hobby was discarded until he decided to take Castiel’s advice and began filming little videos and posting them on youtube under the name ‘Wayward Winchester.’

The two would introduce each other to their interests and new things like movies and/or music. One time Dean brought over his friend, Charlie Bradbury, and Castiel thought the two were dating. He was immediately confused because although the two hadn’t explicitly come out to each other, they knew in the short yet meaningful duration of their relationship. His worries were for nothing, though, when Charlie noticed the tension and just casually mentioned she was a lesbian.

Castiel was over the moon when Dean’s videos started gaining traction a few months later. He was scared at the same time because he didn’t know what Dean would do with the newfound fame but he wasn’t ready for him to leave his life forever, and neither was Dean. After one of Castiel’s midterm exams, Dean asked Cas to hang out with him at the coffee shop where they had met. By this time Castiel had almost graduated and had a position waiting for him at the public high school so things were finally going well for the two. Castiel was scared for the meeting, thinking it was goodbye, and almost had a panic attack before Dean asked him to be his boyfriend. Of course, Castiel then felt stupid, said yes, and Dean declared that day to be their first date. Two years later on the exact same date at the exact same spot, Dean Winchester got down on one knee and asked Castiel to marry him.

Dean was a bit surprised and flattered when his fans were thirsting over him in the comments of his newer youtube videos so he explicitly stated he was in a stable relationship with his fiancee. He never specified the gender or his sexuality which was a big topic about him because gay marriage was still only legalized the year before.

They were married in the summer of next year by Dean’s father figure, Bobby Singer. Uriel and Anna were both invited but only Anna came. Sam attended as the best man with his wife, Jessica, and their one-year-old daughter Mary. Cas had asked Charlie to be his maid of honor since the two had bonded immensely after their first initial meeting. The two’s dynamic was convenient since Charlie would talk to whoever approached them and since she was with a guy, she wouldn’t be harassed and sometimes he’d be her wingman when hooking up with other chicks.

As a teacher, he was everything a student could ask for. He assigned homework three times a week and one essay a month. He was also a bit lenient on the due dates because he knew life could get in the way and tried his best to accommodate all of his students’ needs into his lesson plans. Despite his awkward demeanor, new high schoolers feared him but they were easily quelled when they met him. It was cringy whenever an older teacher would try to talk in their generation slang but when Castiel did it it felt extra out of place since he was so awkward. He still continued to surprise students whenever he quoted or understood a popular meme to which he’d reply with a Mean Girls reference of “I’m not like other teachers, I’m a cool teacher.”

His students didn’t question his sexuality much because they were adamant he wasn’t straight. The man was stylish and had a million different sweater vests. His trenchcoat became his trademark since he always came to school wearing it and it was rarely seen not nearby him. His students liked to do their own gestures to let him know they were okay with his sexuality, whether it was speaking about social issues in class or wearing pride clothing.

Castiel would also incorporate a lot of modern issues into his lessons and made sure his students were all self-aware of the situations in the world in hopes that they could help those he could not. There was absolutely no Mr. Novak slander in the hallways—literally, every student loved him; even if they’ve never had him as a teacher. Sometimes he acted like a counselor to those who felt uncomfortable talking to their parents or guardians at home. Overall, he was the best teacher a student could ask for.

In the end, his students were still teenagers and would be caught watching youtube or Netflix in class so he would have to confiscate their phones for the rest of class. He always felt guilty if he kept it any longer so he would pass the phones to his co-worker, Jo Harvelle. Jo also happened to be the daughter of the principal and an avid fan of Wayward Winchester. Castiel would sometimes listen to her rant about how much she liked or disliked something in his husband’s videos during their breaks with minimum comments. If he liked anything she said, he would go home and tell Dean and the two would laugh over it.

It wasn’t until Jo began continuously talking about the theories regarding who Dean’s mystery lover could be and comments regarding his sexuality did Dean finally feel like he was ready to open up to his fans with his husband’s encouragement. Castiel was the one who filmed that video and it trended pretty quickly since only a small handful of popular YouTubers were in the LGBTQ+ community. The video did garner some hate but the reception, for the most part, was very positive. This finally led to Castiel revealing to his students that he had a husband whom he had been married to for eight years. He was only met with positive responses and felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. A year later, Castiel started an elective class that taught about historical LGBTQ+ figures, monuments, timelines, and etc. It also doubled as a “therapy group” as the students liked to call it since it was a safe space.

Even if Castiel dearly loved his job, he wanted nothing more than to go home to his husband, curl up on the couch and have a western movie marathon. Summer break was finally coming up and Cas was more than ready to take a break from grading tests and papers. He had a love-hate relationship with the end of the term because, on one hand, he had a lot of stressed-out students, high piles of ungraded homework, and barely any sleep. But on the other hand, he had the next three months just for him and Dean. Their 10th year anniversary was also coming up and he was fretting about what he should get his husband.

Castiel was snapped out of his thoughts as he heard faint giggling from the back of the classroom. He glances at the clock from the corner of his eye to see that there were still fifteen minutes left of class and students weren’t allowed on their phones until the last five minutes. Sighing, he stands up and walks to the back of the classroom where he sees a small group of girls huddled around a single phone. He walks behind them without any of them noticing, raising an eyebrow when he sees what they’re watching. Most of the time it’s that god-awful show called Riverdale but this time, it was one of Dean’s videos. His husband’s video.

He was a bit taken aback as he recognized the video being on Dean uploaded last week about this game he played with Sam and Jessica called “Never Have I Ever.” The part they were on was “never have I ever gotten a speeding ticket.” Castiel snorts to himself when Dean puts up the sign “I have.” On one of their dates, they were almost late to a musical Castiel had been waiting months to see so Dean was speeding and they were pulled over.

“I wonder what kind of car he drives,” the girl on the right whispers to the others.

“Do not ever get Dean Winchester started on his car,” Castiel finally spoke up, causing a few of the girls to jump in surprise. “He will never shut up.”

“I—” one of the girls blinks in confusion.

“Do you…?”

Before they could ask any questions, Castiel confiscates the phone and walks back to his desk with a smug smile. If only Dean could see him now. The two had decided on keeping Cas’s identity a secret because Dean was the one in the relationship who wanted attention and Cas was content in staying in the background. Dean had also progressively become even more famous throughout the years and Cas knew the fame was not for him. It also made it harder to go on dates without someone recognizing Dean.

There were a few times when they were grocery shopping where a fan spotted them and Cas introduced himself as Dean’s cousin. The two had spoken about whether or not to introduce Castiel to Dean’s channel except Cas was afraid if any of his students saw and began viewing him differently. That is if any of his students even watched Wayward Winchester which apparently, they did.

When the bell rang, Castiel promptly returned the student’s phone before joining Jo in the teacher’s lounge for lunch. After the video where Dean came out, Castiel felt it was time to tell Jo that he was Dean’s husband. Jo was extremely embarrassed and kept apologizing for talking about Dean that way but then was offended she wasn’t told sooner. She forgave him pretty quickly when Cas let her talk to him on the phone one day after school and gave her a signed t-shirt.

“You won’t believe what some students were watching in class today,” Castiel began as he sat down at their designated table.

“What?” Jo asks as she sets down her phone. “Also, I have a favor to ask.”

“What is it?” Cas asks as he opens his lunch bag.

“I have a date later this week so I was hoping you could help me find an outfit…?”

“Why don’t you ask your mom for help?”

“Ugh, you know how she is,” Jo groans into her sandwich. “She’ll shoot down everything and suggest I go in a turtleneck or something.”

“Turtlenecks are fashionable.”

“Not for this type of weather.”

“All right, I’ll help. Do you mean shopping or raiding your closet?”

“Maybe both if you can’t find anything suitable in my mess of a wardrobe.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it is. It looks like it belongs to a thirteen-year-old Amish girl.”

“Poor thirteen-year-old Amish girls.”

“Oh, shut up. Anyways, what were you talking about earlier?”

“Hm? Oh! I caught some girls watching Dean’s video in class today.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?”

“You didn’t know students watched your husband’s videos?” Jo shoves her face into her sandwich to keep from laughing. “You do know...that kids have worn his merchandise to school before, right?”

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” Jo lets out a chuckle. “For a while now. He became really popular after his coming out video.”

“How did I not know this…” Castiel sighs and rests his face in his hands.

“Why? What’s wrong with them knowing?”

“It just makes everything so much more complicated.”

Jo decided not to press any further and continued to eat her sandwich.

“So, who’s the poor chap?”

School ended that day painfully and Castiel was more than happy to come home to hear the shower running, guessing Dean just got back from the gym. He set his bag down and took his coat off before face-planting onto his bed. He stayed in the position for a few minutes before turning his body around as he heard the bathroom door open.

“Hey, huggy bear,” Dean smiles as he leans down to kiss Cas’s forehead. “How was work?”

“Turns out the whole school watches your videos.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Castiel says as he sits up. “But maybe I’m worrying over nothing. Maybe they won’t even care that I’m married to a famous YouTuber.”

“I wouldn’t say famous.”

“Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Dean wraps an arm around Cas’s shoulder and pulls him close. “We’ll figure it out.”

Castiel snuggles further into his husband’s embrace. “You’re still wet.”

“Just the way you like me.”

“And the moment’s ruined,” Castiel playfully pushes Dean away and stands up. “I’ll go get dinner started.”

“I love you!” Dean calls out.

“Yeah, I know,” Cas replies as he closes the door.

Castiel’s alarm clock blared loudly as he hit the off button and rubbed his eyes open. He sighed as he tapped Dean’s hands around his waist, trying to loosen his arms. Dean protested by whining and holding him closer. Castiel sighs and stays in the position for a few moments, basking in the peaceful quietness as he traced shapes on Dean’s left arm. His eyes began drooping when he looked back at his alarm clock to check how much time he had when he suddenly bolted out of bed.

“Come back to bed,” Dean whines sleepily as he makes grabby motions towards Cas’s side of the bed.

“I can’t,” Castiel says breathlessly as he began pulling on a shirt and pants. “I’m going to be late!”

“Hm?” Dean groans as he finally opens his eyes and glares at the alarm clock as Castiel rushes out of their bedroom. “This is your fault.”

He slumps his head back onto the pillow when he hears the front door shut and lies there for a few more minutes before finally sitting up and stretching. He looks around sleepily to see a few of Castiel’s shirts lying carelessly on the floor. Dean picks them up and throws them on the bed so Cas can hang them up later before putting on pants and heading to the kitchen. He’s about to make his coffee when he notices Castiel’s lunch bag lying on the counter.

“Oh, Cas. What am I going to do with you?”

After his first three cups of coffee and an hour of sitting and staring at the wall, Dean looks into the bag to see it still empty and decides to make a sandwich and pack some of the stuff he’s seen Cas put in it before checking the time. Cas’s second period would start in fifteen minutes so he had some time to give him his lunch. Dean shrugs on a jacket and starts the impala, careful to make sure the water bottle is secured tightly in Cas’s bag.

When he makes it to the school parking lot, he puts on a cap and sunglasses to hide his face before grabbing Castiel’s lunch bag and heading to the front office. He signs in at the front office and walks through the hallways, thinking back to the time when he was in high school which felt like eons ago. He had no idea why Castiel wanted to make a career out of teaching high school students—they were usually the moodiest bunch of kids but Castiel loved them.

A student is walking past him when he stops and gasps when he looks up at Dean.

“Oh my God, are you Dean Winchester?!”

“Yes I am, kid,” Dean says, not wanting to disappoint him.

“Oh, wow!” The kid’s eyes widened. “I’m a huge fan of your videos. Can I...maybe get a photo?”

“Sure, why not?” Dean takes off his sunglasses and leans down for a quick selfie when the bell rings and streams of children begin pouring out of their classes.

“Ah, shit,” Dean groans to himself.

Sure enough, a crowd accumulates around Dean as multiple students ask for photos and for him to sign their folders or homework assignments with sharpies and mechanical pencils. Dean chuckles at the students enthusiastic response to his presence that he forgets the reason why he was there in the first place until he felt eyes drill into the back of his head.

Dean straightens his posture and turns around, making eye contact with Castiel over the crowd of students. He strides over to his husband with a bright smile before planting a little kiss on his cheek, causing their audience to gasp and some students begin to scream.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asks in confusion.

It seemed like the whole school was holding its breath.

“You forgot your lunch,” Dean says as he hands the bag over.

A few girls collectively sigh in the background.

“MR. NOVAK IS DATING THE DEAN WINCHESTER?!”

The students begin screaming again.

“Actually,” Dean clears his throat as the screaming subsides. “Mr. Novak is married to Dean Winchester.”

Castiel covers his bright red face with his hand as Dean grins at the chaos he had created.

“See you at home, angel,” he plants a chaste kiss on Cas’s lips before doing a salute and exiting the school, grinning the whole way back to the impala.

#destiel #deancas #supernatural #fluff #prompt #modern au #wholesome #fanfic #domestic fluff #i want them to be happy dammit #castiel #dean is bi #dean winchester