#THE LYRICS FUCKING FIT HIM I SWEAR

[ceruleancattail]

I WAS SUPPOSED TO TAKE A BREAK TODAY BUT UNFORTUNATELY CHARLOTTE SANDS AND HER SONG “Spite” HIT ME HARDER THEN I EXPECTED TODAY-

So have my brainrot of Rock Star Vil.

The purple ends of his hair flying around, as Vil picks up the microphone from its stand. Pumping his fist in the air, to an astonishing loud cheer from the crowd. He’s in all black, silver jewellery sparkling on the base of his neck, draping delicately over his collar bones. Chains around his wrists, twinkling like stars.

Even amidst a thousand stage lights, Vil still found a way to shine the brightest amongst all of them. He clutches at the microphone like it’s his lifeline, knuckles growing white from the sheer force he was exerting. Singing to the crowd, every letter spilling from his lips. Every syllable seemed laced with an alluring poison, an enchanting melody that never left your heart after you’ve heard it once.

Vil had the voice of an angel, and the raw, burning emotion of one who had been cast down unjustifiably. Truly the fairest of all.

Perhaps you’re his manager. Trailing after him after every concert, passing him a towel or some water. Vil’s rather grateful to you, considering the fact that you’ve stuck with him all this while. Even when he was just a fledgling of a singer.

You two sometimes spend lonely nights with each other, scribbling down lyrics on pieces of scented notepads. Ideation and inspiration do come from odd places… and having a piece of you in his songs does sound rather appealing to Vil.

He keeps the pages with your handwriting on it. Tucks it in a small drawer for him to pour over later, smiling softly at the way your letters dance across the page.

He does insist you watch his performances live on stage whenever you can. There’s a different sort of experience you get from listening to someone sing on the stage, rather than in a recording studio. The atmosphere, the sheer energy of the crowd…

And besides, he’ll do so much better if he knew your lovely gaze was on him for the entirety of the show.

So what do you say, love?

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil schoenheit #Vil #Vil schoenheit x reader #vil x reader #lucky charm 🔷 #THE LYRICS FUCKING FIT HIM I SWEAR #‘fuck it I’ll get famous out of spite’ #‘I’ll make it overnight’ #‘be starring in movies just to make you cry’ #‘yeah I’ll be in your dreams’ #‘and every magazine’ #‘if you say you knew me’ #‘they’ll say omg’ #‘damn you fumbled the bag’ #‘gonna be your biggest regret’ #‘cause’ I’ll be famous out of spite spite spite spite’ #SHUT UP I LOVE THIS SONG WIANSKKSS #ppl are getting sick of me singing this at 8 am in the kitchen but I don’t care I cook my rules

[randomnameless]

Typing about the best wildlife scholar made me realise something -

We know Dheginsea's extremist isolationist and non-interventionist policies were motivated by his wish to stop the propagation of wars, or at least, not to create a situation where the entire continent would be engulfed in War, else Ashera would wake up and erase the population.

Which is what he ultimately believes happened - that's why we fight against him in FE10, because the plot is stupid and cannot have Yune tell him "hi! We were woken by Galdr, Ashera mistakingly believes the inverse!" before his ultimate defeat.

But thinking more about it -

The Three Heroes (tfw Lehran's not part of the gang) made a pact with the Goddesses : they had to ensure 1k years of peace else they would stone Humanity. If they wake up in 1k years and the world is in chaos, they would stone it. If not, then kumbaya.

If they wake up before those 1k years due to war, the world is stone. If they are awoken by Galdr, they should, uh, talk to each other to decide what to do.

To Dheginsea, the only person who could sing the Galdr of Release, Lehran, lost the power to do so when he lost his abilities as a Laguz : ergo, without any possibility to wake the Goddesses up with Galdr, the only way to avoid Ashera's judgment was to avoid wars for 1000 years, even if it means... well, ignoring people suffering and letting them die at your doorstep.

So, Dheginsea, if he revealed the truth about Lehran, would have started a war against Beorcs (there's no way Laguz who know the truth will accept the status quo that if they live too closely with Beorcs they die), and without Galdr : Ashera wakes up "with war" and stones everyone.

If he intervened like Lehran wanted, and had Goldoa stomp Begnion/Beorcs who enslaves Laguz? Ashera wakes up "with war" and stones everyone, since she can't be waken up with Galdr anymore.

Hell, if Dheginsea terminated Ashnard and Daein as he planned too after losing Rajaion and Almedha (what FE10 tells us... but can we seriously believe this when in FE9 he dgaf about the situation?), again we have the same situation : Ashera wakes up due to war and stones everyone.

The only reason why the cast "won" and Tellius isn't stoned anymore is because unbestknown to Lehran, Dheginsea and well, everyone in Tellius, Lehran's branded descendants (who conveniently weren't all wiped out!) can actually sing the Galdr of Release and release Yune, who can circumvent the "Ashera wakes up with war and stone everyone".

-> When Lehran lost his powers and couldn't act as an alarm anymore, the only way to "wake the goddesses before 1k years happen" is with war and their judgment would be to kill everyone.

So Dheginsea had to grit his teeth and accept every fucked up thing that happened in Tellius because Lehran - due to this world's crappy mechanics - cannot "wake up the Goddesses" earlier and ask them to withold their judgment : if there is a war they will kill everyone - they must endure for 1k years, else Tellius is doomed.

Tl;Dr : TFW "make love not war" backfired in Lehran's case, and completely fucked up the covenant they had with the goddesses and if Miccy chocked on a pretzel, Lehran's love for Altina (aka him losing his powers) would have led to Tellius being wiped out even without his own participation.

#Tellius stuff #tfw the events of the game are triggered by the crappy universe mechanics #imagine their despair when Lehran loses his ability to sing the Galdr #'oh crap you were the only one able to sing to wake them up without the massive stoning what should we do?' #hopefully his branded descendants magically inherited the lyrics and tune but #can this also explain Lehran's despair that led him to agree to the massive stoning? idk #idk how much of a hand Lehran had in the entire Daein debacle #Goldoa being moved in the war Ashnard was trying to create fit with his plans #but it also implied he sacrificed his friend's children to have him 'react' and join the war meant to kill everyone? #or he knew Dheginsea and his kids would escape Ashera's judgment? idk #Dheginsea 'we only have to wait 200 years before they wake up we can do it' #Almedha 'dad i'm going to explore the world and fuck a beorc what could even happen?' #Lekain 'damn those subhumans what if I genocide a few of them for funsies? That'll make that subhuman blooded apostle mad lol' #'or maybe i can kill her too and rule over begnion for the lols?' #and then izuka graduated #those were the last 200 meters and they fucked the last lap #FE10 #this verse I swear #how much Lehran's despair was fueled by his inability to keep his promise to the goddesses? #and how did the 'great news' affected his allies and the world?

[taintedcigs]

even if it’s a false god — e.m.

part two; we'd still worship this love

pairing: modern!college!fboy eddie x fem!reader

warnings: smut!!!!!!, 18+, MINORS DNI or ill bite u. p in v, cr*ampie, kinda br*eding kink, unprotected s*x (wrap it up irl angels, this is fiction.), angst angst angst, ASSHOLE FBOY EDDIE!!!, drinking, degrading, swearing, praises, nicknames, vv slight ch*king kink if u squint, some rough stuff.

summary: in which you are friends with benefits with modern!fuckboy!eddie (wc:4.1k)

a/n: i was def thinking of a pt.2 for this while writing it tbh. mr asshole munson needs to repair some hearts!!! also i made the pic in the middle bc i couldn't find a fitting picture w this lyric lmaooo!! did not proof-read!! ignore any mistakes AND PLSS send me ur thoughts ily xo, em

“It was fun babysitting you, sweetheart, but I have to dip,” Steve whispered in your ear with a sympathetic smile, his hand pointing toward the blonde who was impatiently waiting for him. 

“What?” You asked, baffled. “Steve, you fucking promised!” You groaned. 

“Jesus Christ, do you not have any ounce of self-control?” He asked, and you gave him an intense look.

“Obviously not!” You huffed, arms crossing against your chest, causing Steve to chuckle. 

“Robin will come back eventually! And in the mean time, just stay the fuck away from him,” He warned. 

“Now, I gotta get laid.” He winked. You tried to open your mouth, but he interrupted. “I swear to god, Y/N, I don’t wanna hear another word from you, you’ve cockblocked me enough this week.” He said, annoyed.

You rolled your eyes, huffing as you stood straight, “Fine! Have fun.” You exclaimed, and Steve grinned, “I will, sweetheart. And you, just... hide from him or something.” He shrugged as he guided the blonde girl out of the door. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

You were pathetic, asking for Steve and Robin to babysit you, so that you wouldn’t end up under Eddie again, so that you could at least save some of the self-respect that you were sure probably didn’t exist at this point. 

They knew each time you said you were done with him, it was a lie. They knew you’d go back for more, but now it had been two weeks—two whole weeks—where you managed to stay away from him, blocking him for good. 

And you could feel yourself cracking; you wanted—needed—him with every fiber of your being, and it was driving you crazy. 

He drew you in with whatever he did, like a magnet always pulling you toward him, making you need to be around him, at all times.

You missed the way his hands grazed your thighs, the way he fucked you so rough and senselessly, but also so gently. The way his pretty mouth framed compliments so fucking sweetly, but turned dirty the moment he was pounding into you, praising you but degrading you at the same time. 

He was so good at fucking, but was shit at everything else.

Just like you.

So the idea of being friends with benefits sounded like heaven when you first suggested it. No feelings attached, no exclusivity, just fucking each other's brains out while also having someone to chat with afterward.

It was supposed to be simple—so fucking simple. 

But the moment feelings got involved, it turned out for the worst. Jealousy was a bitter monster that gnawed at the insides of the two of you, and it had turned into something so incredibly toxic that you knew you had to end it. Your friendship was long gone now, turning into a bitter competition where you either fucked or argued.

Exclusivity was not something the two of you ever discussed, you knew you were bad at relationships, and Eddie knew he wasn’t good at feelings, so it was a topic you always danced around. Arguments ensued the moment one of you fucked someone else, and bitterness was present in your veins like it had always been there. 

When Eddie decided to fuck another girl two weeks ago, you decided you were done. This wasn’t good for the both of you, and you needed to stop it as fast as you could. 

You knew the emptiness you felt right after you fucked was not worth it, no matter how good Eddie was.  

You were tired of sobbing into Steve’s chest drunkenly, confused about what you even felt for Eddie when he was out there fucking another girl. 

It was starting to leave a bad taste in your mouth, and you didn’t want to hate Eddie—not more than you already did at the moment. 

But there stood Eddie, curly hair laid messily on his forehead as a guitar pick adorned his neck, his infamous leather jacket paired with those black pants were your nightmare—dream—combo, he was sprawled on the couch, thick thighs spread apart, you wished you could part them further with your hands, rub him through his pants as you got down on your knees for him, giving his delicious pink-tip kitten licks as you tasted his salty pre-cum—

What the fuck was wrong with you? You shook your head as you turned around immediately, gazing into your empty cup as you hurried off to the kitchen. 

Your cheeks grew hot from embarrassment, you seriously had no fucking self-control or respect. 

“You need any help?” Eddie’s voice rang in your ear.

“‘M fine,” You muttered, voice barely audible. 

“You know I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

“Why? Did you finally run out of girls to fuck on campus?” You said snarkily, a smirk tugging on your lips. 

“Don’t act so fuckin’ innocent now, sweetheart.” He tssked, causing you to throw him a quizzed look.

“Didn’t you go home with Mr. Jock last week?” He was being possessive again, and you hated how it picked up your heart rate, you were stupid.

“So?” You quirked a brow, teasing him, and he gave you a slight chuckle.

That smug asshole, why did he have to always look so good?

“So…how was it?” He asked, and you could feel his jaw tensing as he took a step closer to you, trapping you between the drink stand and his body.

“You’re disgusting.” You groaned as you pushed him away from your face. You were not going to give in.

“That bad, huh?” He mocked, scrunching his nose.

You rolled your eyes. “No.” You lied.

It was bad, really fucking bad; the guy lasted 30 seconds and left you with nothing. That greedy bastard.

But you weren’t going to let Eddie know that.

“He was really good, actually.” You were lying through your teeth, and thankfully, Eddie didn’t seem to notice. An intense rage flashed through his eyes.

“You sayin’ that punk is better than me?” He slurred into your ear, his breath ragged and hot as it fanned against your neck. He smelled so fucking addicting—a mix of sandalwood and nicotine, earthy and making you crave him at the same time. 

You don’t even know how he even came to that conclusion, but it was funny, seeing him like this, nostrils flaring as rage filled his veins, like he was in torture hearing about the guys you fucked, he deserved that.

But your silence at his question meant everything to him; he didn’t need an answer. You knew he was better, and he knew that you were crawling closer to his palm now.

He grew more confident because of the way you stuck to him. “I've seen him in the locker room, sweetheart. He’s not that fuckin’ impressive.” You didn’t mean to gasp, but it slipped past your lips quickly.

“Munson!” You warned, a smile tugged on your lips, and you realized how pathetic you were being again, but it was too late now. 

“Don’t think he can make you smile like I do, either.” He grinned smugly, his calloused hands quick to pull the strand of hair on your face, to see the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, so fucking promising.

“You're a jerk,” You spat, groaning as you turned around, trying to avoid him, but it was no use; the damage was done, and you were putty in his hands again.  

He had a tight hold on your arm, possessive again, and you were sick for enjoying his rough side. He spun you around to meet him, eyes dark, before he held you in place. “A jerk who makes you feel good,” Eddie purred in your ear, fingers tracing toward your exposed skin, one touch from him, and you whimpered, all that anger fading away so quickly.

He chuckled darkly. “Missed those sweet lil’ whimpers,” He whispered in your ear again, fingers quick to find their way toward your panties. 

He drew slow circles with his thumb while you tried to remain tight-lipped, but it was impossible. 

“Jesus—fuck, Eddie som—someone could see...” You didn’t mean to throw your head back against the wall. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Eddie shrugged. 

“Don’t care, sweetheart.” 

“Well, I do.” You didn’t; Eddie could fuck you right here, right now, and you’d be fine with it, but you weren’t ready to admit this to yourself, and you didn’t want to take the chance of Robin seeing you like this. 

He groaned as he dragged you into the nearest room. You would’ve cried at the loss of contact if he didn’t have a tight hold on your body, calloused hands gripping at your curves, and your thighs rubbed together at his touch. 

Eddie was quick to pin you against the door, his hand curling around the back of your neck. He smashed his lips against yours without hesitating, kissing you the same way he made you feel; explosive, hard, and dizzying. 

He pulled back to look at you. 

Sweet Jesus.

His gaze was intense, and it made you feel so fucking exposed that it startled a gasp out of your lips. 

You fisted his shirt when you had enough, yanking him closer to you so that you could feel his body pressed into yours. Everything you felt was pure hunger, craving him deeply.  

Your heart was pounding in your chest when you felt his rock hard bulge grinding against you, calloused hands gripped your ass as you whimpered; you were at his mercy now. 

“What were you sayin’ last time? That this would never happen again?” He mocked, whispering against your face, his gaze never leaving you. 

Your eyes narrowed, but it was impossible to keep up your act when his fingers started ghosting over your thighs again. “Fuck. You.” You spat. 

“You don’t have to ask me twice, baby.” He grinned, chuckling when you whimpered under his touch.

“God, I love those sweet noises you make for me…” He murmured, you rubbed your thighs again at his words. “I bet if I flipped that little skirt of yours… I’d find you gushing for me.” He groaned. 

And you remained tight-lipped. God, you didn’t want to feed into his huge fucking ego, and you wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. 

But he was so right. Your thighs were dampened by how aroused you were. 

He was quick to slip his fingers past your panties, a grunt escaping his lips once he pushed past your folds, your slick covering his fingers. He chuckled darkly. “You’re soaking my fingers, honey.”

“I—Fuck—I hate you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, and Eddie reveled in it, his fingers pushing inside of you while his thumb stayed on your clit. 

“Always sayin’ shit you don’t mean, baby.” He mocked. “Gonna make you beg for my cock, if you keep’ talkin like that.” 

You were panting and head dizzy as he pushed his fingers in and out of you. You were going to lose it, and he had barely started.

When he finally undressed both of you, you were out of it, while his hands were still on your clit as he groaned at the sight in front of him. 

You were perfect. 

His breath was ragged when he traced your chest, eyes bulging when he realized you had no bra on, pleasure ignited in you more and more when he cupped your breasts, teeth tugging your nipple as his fingers still toyed with your clit.

“Perfect tits, just made for me, huh?” He growled, making you mewl; you were putty in his hands, and with each movement, you were getting closer and closer to beg him for more. 

The more you whimpered, the rougher he got with you, curling his finger inside your cunt as he hit that one spot, eliciting a moan from you as you threw your head back.

“P—please.” You whimpered, and Eddie tutted. 

“I’ve seen you do much better than that.” He hummed. This arrogant asshole was going to be the death of you. 

“P—please, Eds, please.” You begged, and your moans died down your throat, before he slowly dragged his fingers out and shoved them back in. 

Your head cocked to the side in pleasure, and he was quick to take advantage of it, licking a path from your neck to your ear, grinning. 

“Mhmm… not good enough, baby.” He purred in your ear as you whined, “Jesus fucking Christ—” Your cursing was interrupted when he yanked his hands away. 

No. No. No. No!

“Shitshitshit—Please, Fuck, Eds...” You murmured, eyes shooting wide open, “Need your cock inside’a me.” You mewled again. 

His dark chuckle reverberated through you, “See, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” He mocked, causing your eyes to narrow. 

“You assho—” He didn’t let you finish as he wrapped his hands around your throat, just enough to punish you but just enough for pleasure to course through your veins. And it felt so fucking good. 

You shut your mouth quickly, “What were you saying, baby?” He purred. 

God, that egotistic prick was pushing you to your last fucking limit; you could do it, you could hold it off. But on the other hand, you could feel yourself pulsing with need; if he didn’t pound into you soon, you knew you would’ve been a pathetic blabbering mess.

“Please, please, Fuck me,” You grunted. “I need you, Eddie.” He didn’t respond as he tapped your thighs, signaling for you to wrap your legs around his chest, and you were quick to oblige. 

Mind spinning before you got a chance to process what happened, he slammed into you with a vicious thrust, he was so fucking thick that it made you let out a guttural scream, tears welled at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his size. 

It wasn’t long before your loud noises turned into incoherent babbles and squeals as he kept his pace.

“Holy shit, baby,” He groaned, watching his cock sliding into you, “Such a warm fuckin’ pussy, and so fucking tight… Jesus…”

You trembled beneath him, tits bouncing up and down as your mouth hung open each time he slid further into your cunt, and Eddie wanted that image etched into his brain forever. 

He tilted you upward, hitting spots you weren’t even aware of. You were quick to wrap your hands around his frame, your nails digging into his back, roughly.

He was the only one who knew you like that; both emotionally and physically, and the same went for you, that’s why the two of you never could truly let each go, clinging to each other like a child did to their favorite toy.

You know no one else could fuck you like he did, and that smug bastard knew it, too.

The way he was pounding into you while uttering curses at your ear, furiously slapping into your body as if you were nothing but his personal fucktoy, truly his.

And you realized how sick you were for liking it, truly enjoying being this way with him. 

“You look so fuckin’ pretty when you take my cock, such a tight fuckin’ pussy and all mine, yea?” He panted causing you to nod, you were barely able hold his gaze, and he groaned before his hands roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcing your head in his direction. 

“Look at me baby…” He purred, “Look, how well your cunt is squeezin’ me. You feel that, peach?” He sheathed himself further into you, and you could feel your walls clench around him, a contented groan leaving both of your lips. 

It was fucking perfect. Everything was rough and messy, there was nothing emotional about the way you fucked. You were both using each other to cum as much as you wanted to, not stopping until you were both sweaty bodies.

He could make you come apart in seconds if he wanted to, knowing your body better than anyone else. And you could make the scary freak Eddie putty in your hands if you wanted to; it was a fucked up game of control that had the two of you going at it for hours. 

Was it fucked up? Yes.

Did it feel good? Absolutely. 

“Would that asshole be able to make you come apart like this?” He asked, fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave a bruise.

This wasn’t the first time Eddie had been possessive; it was a sick, twisted game that you also participated in, almost as if both of you knew that you could never be with anyone else.

You nodded mindlessly, you weren’t going to give into him that easily, again, he grunted at your lack of reaction. 

“Tell me, baby.” He growled, his pounding slowing down to make sure your orgasm was out of reach for you, torturing you until he had you begging under him.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to give up this fast. “Beg me, honey.” His movements picked up, and his hands were quick to toy with your clit, a sharp burst of euphoria rang through your body, leaving you speechless. 

You clenched around him—a big fucking mistake—and he grinned smuggly again. “I know, baby, I know you’re close.” He panted. “I can make you cum, angel.” He promised, “Just say the word.” 

“Asshole,” You groaned between his forceful thrusts, and he chuckled darkly. You rolled your hips against his when his movements faltered, seeking the warmth and the friction when he thrusted into you fully, filling you to the brim.

And that prick was thoroughly enjoying your torture. “Tell me it’s all mine, that you’re all mine.” He purred against your ear. 

You couldn’t. You shouldn’t.

But the way his thumb circled around your clit, so agonizingly slow, and the way his cock was prodding into you so slowly was torture. God, if he just picked up his pace.

Don’t. 

You try to convince yourself, but it's to no avail, you are clenching down on nothing, and it hurts. Your hole is pulsing now, and you need him more than ever. 

“P—please,” You mewled, causing Eddie to give you a slight smirk. “Please what, baby? Use your words.” 

“I’m all yours,” You murmured, “He could never fuck me like you could.” You added, humming contently, when Eddie started to pound into you relentlessly again. 

“Please—I need to—Jesus, Eds.” Your words slurred into a moan as he increased his speed, his finger circling your clit roughly. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, baby. Feels so good.” He panted.  “Please—please make me cum, sir.” You sobbed, unable to hold it back anymore. 

And that was all Eddie needed to hear. “Cum for me, honey.” He pleaded, and you gave him low whimpers as he started fucking you faster again, watching the way his cock disappeared into your gushing cunt.

“Wanna feel you cum on my cock, baby.” He breathed. 

“Shit, feels so good, Eds.” 

“Jesus—Please… I’m going to—” You bit down on your lower lip, unable to stifle the moans leaving your lips as his assault on your clit was enough to bring you over the edge, 

“I’m gonna—I’m…Holy shit, oh god!” You sobbed, whole body convulsing in pleasure as you came around his cock, your vision blurred and mind foggy as you didn’t realize how your orgasm was triggering his. 

Eddie was whimpering for you now, “So fucking good, holy shit.” He panted, movements getting sloppier.

“I’m gonna cum, fuck, baby. My perfect fucking girl, yea?” He heaved a breath. 

“I’m gonna fuck this—Gonna fuck my load into you, peach.”

“Gonna fill you with my cum—Fuuuck.” He growled, animalistic noises escaping him as he exploded inside of you, thick ropes of his warm cum painting your walls. 

He groaned when he slipped out, mouth-watering as he enjoyed the sight of you fucked out of your mind, and his load dripping down your thighs. 

The relief you had was short-lived as that sinking feeling came to you again, the emptiness, the loneliness.

Was all of it worth it?

The two of you dressed in silence; the weight of what you did was hitting you all at once. You did it again. You had sex with him again. You let him use you again—it didn’t matter if you used him too, it meant something different for you than it did for him.

All those thoughts you had about feeling good faded out quicker than you thought they would.

You were so fucking pathetic.

Jesus Christ.

You felt sick, what the fuck did you just do?

As soon as Eddie got dressed, he gave your cheek a sloppy kiss. He was going to leave you all alone again.

You should be fine with this, this is what always happens.

Don’t—don’t say anything, just take your last bit of self-respect that is possibly non-existent and leave without another word—

“You’re…leaving?” You exhale, your mind racing with ideas.

Shit. Just shut the fuck up.

“Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart.” He gave you a slight smile, but all you wanted to do was slap it out of him.

“We both know what this was.” He muttered, that conceited dickhead still had that smile on his face.

“And what exactly was ‘this’?” You pointed to the space between the two of you.

“Fucking, no strings attached?” He added, shrugging. The fact that he had no clue about anything was pissing you off.

“Unbelievable.” You gave him a dry chuckle.

“What?” He asked, baffled.

“Is that all I am to you, just a warm body?” You said, face crinkling with disgust.

“I’m confused.” Eddie said. “You—you were the one who fucking suggested this.” He breathed.

“Well, I’m un-suggesting it!” You exclaimed angrily.

“You—you are so fucking confusing!” He spat. “I told you—I told you we could be more... told you we could try... us.” He stuttered. “You were the one who refused!”

“You were drunk! You can barely fucking say it now!” You spat back.

“What... what do you even want, Y/N?” He asked, holding his gaze.

“Do you want a relationship? Do you want something meaningful?” He pondered, a sarcastic chuckle escaping his lips.

“Is it so wrong for me to want that? To want something real?” Your voice carried so much emotion, and that’s what killed him.

He couldn’t have a relationship with you even if he wanted to; he recognized his own turmoil, and he feared he would drag you right down with him. No matter how similar you seemed to be, he was sure he’d ruin you, completely and utterly. And not in a good way.

He swallowed physically; the lump in his throat wasn’t going to go away.

He couldn’t let you have hope; he couldn’t let you down again—he had done that enough.

''A relationship with you is the last thing I see myself doing.'' He almost whispered, but you heard it loud and clear.

Your brows were quick to furrow, and your jaw was was set in a tense manner. The lust in your gaze was long gone by now, containing only rage while you glared at the source of your pain.

“Fuck. You.” You spat, tears threatening to spill but you didn’t want to give him that satisfaction

“You are a sadistic fucking asshole, Munson.” 

“Jesus… I think we should stop—whatever the hell, this is.” He exclaimed.

“Fine by me!” You exclaimed back cheeks heating up from anger.

“I really am done with you, this time.” Despite the intensity of your gaze, he could sense the subtle vulnerability in your eyes. The subtle pain that was fueling your anger

“Oh, I’m sure you are.” He chuckled smugly. This was something you two had joked about before, but it wasn’t funny now.

He saw you in the palm of his hand because you always came back to him, he was right… until now.

The fact that he laughed in your face at the thought of being in a relationship with you was too much, even for your low self-esteem. 

“I don’t care what you think.” You didn’t even hold the rage you held before; only disgust was visible in your tone.

“You’re dead to me.” You replied curtly, your voice distant and chilling.

And Eddie knew how much he fucked up, truly.

There was nothing he could do now.

“I didn’t mean it like—” He regretted what he said immediately, but you dismissed his protests, gathering your jacket in your hand as you slammed the door behind you.

Tears blurred your vision as soon as you left, the lively sound of the party clouded your mind as you silently sobbed, trying to find Robin.

You knew how unattainable he was, and how much he truly hurt you, and as fucked up as it was, that's exactly why you loved him; led by blind faith that it would be different.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #fuckboy!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson x reader #fuckboy!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #stranger things imagine #eddie munson

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me - Chapter Three: No Mirror for Monsters

dbf!Joel x f!reader

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.3k

Chapter Warnings: Mature, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings, confusion, and self doubt. Joel goes on a date but not with you. Two idiots falling and pining for each other. Lotta swearing, because, yeah, I like it. Reader has long enough hair for a ponytail and likes comfy clothes. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used by her dad.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Thank you for reading this little tale! I did not expect all the love - my heart is fit to burst over all the wonderful comments and reblogs!

Chapter Two | Main Masterlist

“Good morning, Millers!” you greeted as you let yourself into their house the following morning. Nearing late October, it was a beautiful day outside and the crisp morning air made you happy. It would heat up later, but for now you were enjoying the comfort of a beloved hoodie and yoga pants.

“Hi darlin’,” Joel replied with a lot less enthusiasm as he leaned against the kitchen doorframe. Still nursing his first cup of coffee, his sparkling personality hadn’t kicked in yet. “Sarah’s just gettin’ dressed. Want some coffee?”

“Nah, don’t drink the stuff. Smells good, but the taste is just…” You scrunched up your nose, at a loss for the right word to describe how utterly disgusting you found the taste of coffee. You moved through the house to join him in the kitchen.

Turning back to the counter with a chuckle, Joel poured himself another cup and shrugged. “There’s no accounting for taste, I guess. More for me, then.”

“There’s the silver lining!” you teased. “So, you guys have any big plans this weekend?”

“Nah, should be qui—Oh shit, I almost forgot!” Joel closed his eyes, bumping a fist against his forehead. His gaze was shuttered when it met yours again. “Would you mind watching Sarah on Saturday evening?”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t have any plans, so I’m happy to hang with the nugget. You got a hot date or something?” You meant it as a joke, but the way Joel winced clued you in. Your face fell at his next words, and you hoped he didn’t notice.

“Uh, yeah. Tommy set it up.” Joel drained the rest of his cup, tossing it into the sink, and ran an anxious hand through his curls. “First one in a while, ya know.”

No, you didn’t know. But it wasn’t really your business, was it? Sarah’s arrival in the kitchen saved you from having to say anything else as the little girl launched herself at you.

“Hey nugget,” you said, wrapping your arms around her little body as she clung to your waist. Despite your best efforts, your greeting lacked your prior enthusiasm. You could feel the heavy weight of Joel’s gaze on you like a laser, but you refused to look in his direction. “You ready to go?”

“Uh huh, I already ate breakfast,” Sarah said proudly, spinning to hug her father. “Bye Dad, love you.”

You turned away, already heading for the door as Joel pulled her in for a bear hug, feeling your heart constrict at how much they loved each other. You didn’t bother to say goodbye.

Joel had a date.

A date who wasn’t you.

Man, that fucking sucked.

Could you blame the guy, though? He was still young and handsome, hardworking and responsible to a fault. And, most of all, he didn’t know that you harbored growing feelings for him. Nor could he ever find out, you reminded yourself, not when your dad was his best friend.

The ride to drop Sarah off was full of silence, your mind weighed down with thoughts of Joel and the valiant effort of trying to convince yourself to stop thinking about him. Coming out of the fog as you moved up in the school drop-off line, you wished Sarah a good day and watched as she bounced up the steps into the building. You envied that sweet obliviousness of youth.

Driving away from the school, anxiety started to kick in. The thought of going back to your house to sit alone as the four walls closed in on you made your stomach churn. You drove around for an hour, no real destination in mind, and ended up at Peace District Park. With nothing much else to do, you walked the trails of the urban oasis and let nature work its magic in calming your nerves.

It worked.

As you sat on a bench watching songbirds flutter around the flora, you texted one of your best friends from high school who still lived in the area. You needed a girl’s night out.

Distractions were dangerous in his line of work, but Joel struggled to get his mind to focus all morning. He fixated on the way your face fell and your entire demeanor changed when he mentioned the date, like you were disappointed, hurt even. But that couldn’t be, could it?

There was no way you felt something for him. Was there?

Joel went over and over every interaction between you two since the day you met, trying to see if he was reading into things too much. He wasn’t the most observant guy, he knew that well enough, but there were moments when he’d catch you gazing at him with this look of wonder in your eyes… that had to mean something. Right?

Fuck. He was really bad at this stuff. So out of practice and lacking confidence.

Maybe he just imagined it all. Maybe you had something else on your mind and didn’t give a shit about someone like him going on a date.

What could he do about it if you liked him anyway? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. So, what did it matter. You were JB’s daughter and Sarah’s babysitter, nothing more and nothing less.

Joel’s mind continued to cycle through the same thoughts all day, until he smashed his thumb with a hammer because he was so distracted. Pissed off and in pain, he called it a day a couple hours early, leaving Tommy in charge of the site. He needed to get home and put some ice on his thumb.

By some cosmic coincidence, he arrived home at the same time as you and Sarah. He couldn’t hide his thumb from your eagle eyes as the three of you entered the house.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!” you hissed, trying not to swear in front of Sarah, your delicate hand already reaching for his larger, dirtier one. “What happened to your thumb?”

“It got in the way of a hammer,” Joel mumbled, doing his best not to wince as you gently prodded at the swollen digit. He also did his best to ignore the softness of your skin and the warmth of your touch on him, wishing you would touch him everywhere. “You don’t have to fuss, darlin’. It just needs some ice.”

“Oh, hush up, you. Go wash your hands then sit down and relax, I’ll get you some ice and aspirin to help with the swelling. You’re lucky it’s not broken!”

“Bossy lil’ thing, aren’t you,” he grumbled, doing exactly as you ordered once his boots were kicked off to the side of the foyer. Sarah nestled against him on the couch once he sat, fussing over his thumb just as much as you did. His lips quirked upwards at the thought that it meant you both cared about him.

You returned minutes later with a bag of frozen peas, two white pills, and a bottle of cold beer in hand. “Take these,” you directed, offering him the pills and beer. Once he swallowed, you placed the bag on his hand, carefully adjusting it to wrap around his thumb. Your teeth bit into your bottom lip as you concentrated on not hurting him and he nearly groaned as an ache built up in his belly at the sight.

“Thank you, darlin’,” Joel said, voice deep and husky before clearing his throat. His eyes clocked your movements as you stood up straight and your eyes widened when they met his half-lidded gaze. He catalogued the moment to add to the growing list of moments between the two of you that hinted at something deeper, something more lingering in the air.

You waved off his thanks and headed back to the kitchen, calling over your shoulder, “I’ll make some dinner for your two before I leave.”

He wanted to follow you, to let you know he wanted you to stay for dinner, and maybe watch a movie with him and Sarah afterwards, but Sarah’s sweet little voice distracted him.

“Will you help me with my homework, Daddy?” She peered up at him with eyes that matched his own and his heart swelled with love.

“Of course, my little nugget. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

They worked on math problems until you called them for dinner, Joel relieved at the break. An exceptionally bright girl, Sarah didn’t really need his help, but she enjoyed it when he tried. Math made his head hurt, a headache starting to build between his eyes. The headache grew at the sight of only two plates full of spaghetti on the table.

“You’re not eating?” Sarah’s voice squeaked, making her dissatisfaction clear. Turning to him as you shook your head, she added, “Daddy! Tell her she can stay!”

Joel’s mouth barely opened before snapping shut again. You were already speaking, cutting off whatever he would have said.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, nugget. I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Sarah’s disappointment broke his heart, and Joel felt helpless.

“You sure you can’t stay? I thought maybe we could watch a Disney movie after.” He looked at you with unmasked hope in his eyes. He wanted you to stay even more than his daughter did, but he couldn’t tell you that.

Something flashed in your eyes but disappeared before Joel could figure out what it was. “Sorry, I have plans with a friend and I can’t stay. You two enjoy the movie without me,” you said with a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’ll come by at 4:30 tomorrow, okay?”

Joel nodded, cringing at the reminder of his date, and watched you leave with a pang of disappointment rivalling Sarah’s.

Emily never changed. She was still the prettiest girl in the room and funny as hell, lifting your mood just like she did back in high school. The pair of you sat at a swanky bar downtown, catching up like you never missed any time together. You stayed in touch a bit over the years, but the distance and different priorities led to your friendship taking a back seat to everything else. Now that you were back, it was easy to dive right back into that unbreakable bond the two of you always shared and pick up where you left off.

You didn’t realize how much you missed that bond until now.

The bar filled with the typical Friday night after work crowd as the two of you sipped at your drinks and rehashed the past few years. Soon, the conversation moved to your current love life – or, more accurately, your complete lack of one.

“So, you seeing anyone lately?” Emily asked, signaling to the bartender that you were ready for another round. “Last I heard, you were with that dude… what was his name? The one that would gaslight you and always insisted your tears were weaponized when he made you cry.”

“Yeah, Tom. That asshole. I wasted too much time on him not knowing any better, but we broke up about a year and a half ago, thank God.” You cringed at the thought of all the emotional damage you had to overcome after that one. You worked hard on finding yourself again after that disaster. “No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

Ever the receptive one, Emily picked up something in your tone that you couldn’t hide. Tilting her head curiously, clocking your movements with her sharp eyes, she continued, “But there’s someone who caught your eye? Do tell!”

Without hesitation, you launched into a long-winded explanation of how you met Joel and how you’re now a mess over the guy.

“Dad’s best friend, huh? When did you become such a cliché?” Emily teased, her shoulder gently bumping yours. “He sounds dreamy, though!”

“I am not a cliché! We don’t all get to all get to marry our high school sweetheart because we met ‘the one’ when we were 15. Talk about a cliché!” You cackled, drawing the attention of two men in suits a few seats down from you, but you ignored them.

“Alright, alright,” Emily mock surrendered. “Back to dad’s best friend. What is the problem? The JB I remember is a cool guy who wouldn’t have a problem with you dating his friend, not when said friend is only a bit older than you and such a good guy.”

That caught you by surprise. “You really think my dad would be okay with it?”

Emily shrugged. “I mean, I haven’t talked to your dad in years, but I remember him being a pretty reasonable guy and he always wanted the best for you. Why wouldn’t he want you to be with someone responsible and caring like this Joel guy?”

You nodded thoughtfully, your teeth worrying your plump bottom lip. “Even if my dad was cool with it, there’s the fact that Joel is not interested. He’s going on a date tomorrow, for fuck’s sake.”

After a moment of consideration, Emily asked, “Does he do that often? Date, I mean.”

You shook your head, fingers dancing absentmindedly along the edge of the bar. “Apparently not. He said it’s the first one in a long time.”

Emily’s eyes narrowed. “And you don’t find the timing suspicious?”

That caught you off guard, your eyes darting to hers. “Should I?”

Shoulders shrugging beneath long layers of dark hair, Emily hummed. “Maybe? From what you just told me about your interactions, I find it interesting that he’s suddenly going on a date. Makes me think he has feelings and he’s struggling with them just like you are.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that.” You blew off her observations, you couldn’t afford to start having hope now when he was going on a date tomorrow. Instead, you changed the subject. “So, how are you and Ed doing?”

The rest of the night passed in a blur of conversation and mixed drinks with the occasional interruption from a few brave men hitting on you. It crossed your mind to flirt with one or two of them, but you were having too much fun catching up with Emily and blew each of them off. Before you knew it, the hour was late and Emily’s husband, Ed, picked you both up to make sure you got home safe.

“What the hell am I doing?” Joel asked his reflection as he tried on his fourth shirt from his closet. He wasn’t looking forward to this date at all, his mind a mess between feeling guilty about leaving Sarah, the confusing mix of emotions revolving around you, and his complete lack of confidence.

Torn between trying too hard and not trying at all, he huffed in frustration, ripping the buttons of the shirt open before tossing it onto the growing pile of discarded clothes on his bed.

He had no business going on a date. What had he been thinking when he agreed to go?

Joel slumped onto his bed in defeat, his right fist coming up to bump against his forehead. How could he ever think that going on a date would get his mind off you? Not to mention, he felt like a dick for asking you to watch Sarah while he went on said date.

God, he really wasn’t good with this kind of shit.

A glance at the clock got him moving. You were due to arrive shortly, and he had to pick Annica up for a 5:30 reservation Tommy insisted he make. There was no room to dilly dally.

Another glance through his closet and Joel settled on a blue flannel and dark jeans, paired with newer black boots. Best to just be himself, he thought. Using a bit of gel, he pushed his curls back from his face. His beard was freshly trimmed, and he ran his truck through the car wash earlier in the day.

“That’s as good as it’s gonna get,” he said to his reflection before leaving his bedroom, the doorbell ringing as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Joel opened the door to find you standing there, your feet shifting uncertainly. You looked tired, yet beautiful as always and he gulped. “Hey, why didn’t you just come in? You have a key.”

“Hey Joel,” you greeted with a shrug, your voice quiet. Your eyes scanned from his head down to his feet like you were drinking him in. “Just didn’t feel right, I guess.”

“Ok?” Confused, he waited for you to explain, but you kept your mouth shut. Something was off with you. He wondered if something happened last night – you said you had plans, had it been a date of your own? His heart skipped a beat as he shook his head clear. “Well, come on in. You doin’ alright, darlin’?”

“Mmhmm,” you hummed back causing Joel’s brows to pull into a frown as you followed him into the house. “You look nice. Ready for your date?”

Was it just him or did it seem like asking that question pained you? What the fuck was wrong with him? Shaking his head free of thoughts like that, he blushed. “Oh, uh, thanks. As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” After a beat, he added, “I’m kinda nervous, actually.”

Joel watched your eyes soften at that. “You shouldn’t be. Any woman would be lucky to go on a date with you.”

Including you? he wondered. There was a wistfulness to your voice that shattered him, leaving him ready to ditch his date and stay there with you and Sarah. “Hey, I, um—”

“You’re here! Finally! Come on, I want to show you something!” Sarah sprinted into the living room, grabbing your hand, and stealing your attention before Joel could finish his sentence. Maybe that was a good thing. God only knows what was about to come out of his mouth.

“Slow down, nugget! I’m coming,” you laughed as the young girl dragged you toward the stairs. It was the first smile of yours Joel glimpsed since you arrived, and his heart beat heavy in his chest when you turned to speak to him over your shoulder, your broad smile dimming with your next words. “Have fun tonight, Joel. You deserve a nice night out.”

“Thanks, darlin’,” he replied, the words heavy in his mouth. Clearing his throat, he called out, “Be good, Sarah! I ordered pizza for you both, should be here soon.”

“I always am, Dad! Love you!” Sarah yelled down the stairs, her attention already focused on whatever she wanted to show you.

“Love you, too.” Joel continued staring up the stairs long after the two of you were out of sight, a sense of yearning knotted deep in his chest. Forcing himself to look away, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, once again asking himself why the hell he agreed to this date in the first place.

“Can we go see it tonight? Please?” Sarah gazed up at you with her dark eyes widened like a baby cow and you were powerless. How did Joel ever tell this precious, sweet girl ‘no’? It was impossible.

“Let’s see what the showtimes are first. We can’t be out too late.” Scanning the movie listing Sarah pulled up on her tablet, you found the showtimes for the latest kid friendly adventure movie she wanted to see. “There’s one at 6:30. We can totally do that one and still have you home for bedtime. Sound good?”

“Yes! Can we get popcorn?”

“Of course! No trip to the movies is complete without popcorn.”

The two of you ate some pizza before getting ready to go. You liked getting there early enough to find your seats and see the trailers before the movie started. Texting Joel on your way out the door to let him know you were taking Sarah out, the two of you climbed into your car.

The movie theater was busy as usual for a Saturday evening, but you found a good parking spot beneath a light post not far from the entrance. There were lines for tickets and concessions leaving you relieved at arriving early. With tickets in hand, you led Sarah to the shortest of lines in front of the concessions counter. That’s when you saw them.

A tall blonde with big hair and legs for days, wearing tight fitting jeans like a second skin and yapping away while walking closely with a taller man with broad shoulders and curly, dark hair. The man’s sleeves were rolled up, his left hand placed low on the woman’s back, gently guiding her as she gripped a bucket of popcorn and a fountain drink. Another fountain drink was clutched in the man’s right hand. As if he felt the searing heat of your jealous gaze, the man turned, and your stomach plummeted.

Joel’s dark umber eyes met yours in surprise, his hand dropping from the woman’s back as he watched your face fall. He looked uncertain, like he didn’t know whether to carry on with his date or rush to your side. His eyes darted to find Sarah standing at your side, her focus on the snacks displayed within the glass counter. Forcing a half smile to your face, you dipped your head in greeting and turned to move forward, your attention refocusing as it was your turn to plan an order. All the while, your mind raced with thoughts of Joel and his date. Knowing that he wouldn’t want to introduce his daughter on a first date, you never told Sarah that you saw him.

Handing the bucket of popcorn to Sarah, you said, “Careful now. I’ll grab napkins and carry our drinks.” You led the way past the concessions toward the designated theater, which was, thankfully, on the other side of the building from where Joel and his date had been heading.

You phone buzzed in your pocket once you and Sarah were seated – in the middle of the aisle, at Sarah’s insistence, because you’d have the best view. It was a text from Joel.

JM: Sorry darlin’ just saw your text. Hope you and Sarah enjoy your movie.

Torn between responding or just leaving him on read, you went with a third option and gave his message a thumbs up before shoving the phone deep into your pocket. Minutes later, you relented with a sigh, pulling the phone back out to respond a little kindlier.

You: Thanks. I didn’t know you were taking your date to the movies or we would have gone somewhere else.

Bubbles appeared as he was typing, but you didn’t want to see what else he had to say. Silencing your phone, you shoved it back into your pocket.

You were distracted the entire movie, staring blankly at the large screen as you over-analyzed every detail about Joel’s date. She was closer to his age, maybe even a bit older, with big, perky boobs and a pretty face covered with a thick layer of makeup. Her hairstyle fit the old quote, “the bigger the hair, the closer to God” and likely took her an hour or more to style. She made an effort, that’s what seemed to matter. Meanwhile, you sat in the theater with your hair scraped back into a messy ponytail and wearing worn jeans and a hoodie. You felt like a child compared to Joel’s date.

Part of you wanted to hate her for having all the features that Joel apparently found attractive, but you couldn’t. It wasn’t her fault the man you were pining over wasn’t the least bit interested in you.

Finally, the credits rolled, and you pretended to have paid attention to the movie as you listened to Sarah gushing over it for the entire ride back to the Miller house and in the moments between brushing her teeth and tucking her into bed.

The living room couch was particularly comfortable when you sat on it, your body settling into the pillowy cushions with a sigh as you stretched across it. Staring at the ceiling, eyes blinking tiredly, you wondered when Joel would be home, both eager for and dreading his arrival. Still mortified over nearly crashing his date and self-conscious about not fitting the mold of what he found attractive, you wondered what you’d even say to him when he walked through the door.

The pull of sleep too strong to fight, you submitted to the emotional exhaustion, dozing off until a gentle shake of your shoulder caused you to stir.

“Darlin’, go sleep in the spare room,” Joel murmured as you blinked your eyes open.

It took you a moment to come back to your senses, your body following his orders before your brain kicked back to life. He stepped back as you got up, one strong hand reaching out to hold you steady as you wobbled. You met his eyes as the haze of sleep began to clear. He gazed at you with such a soft look you trembled.

“You okay there?” he asked with a quiet laugh and your eyes flicked down to his mouth, catching the glint of something on his cheek, just above his beard. Focusing on that spot, it became clearer. A very distinct lipstick mark. He wasn’t even bothering to hide it.

Wrenching yourself from his gentle grasp, you slipped on your shoes and pulled your keys from your pocket.

Joel watched your every move, confused and clearly not wanting you to leave. “Hey, where are you going? Just take the spare room. You’re still half asleep.”

Shaking your head, you avoided looking at him. “Nah, Imma head home. G’night Joel, see ya Monday,” you said, turning your back on him as you headed for the door. Unable to help yourself as you wrenched the front door open, you added, “Might wanna go clean your face off.”

“What?” his baffled question echoed behind you as the door closed.

tbc

Taglist: @mellymbee@untamedheart81@anoverwhelmingdin@runningmom94@leilanixx@pedropascalfan221@lovelyjess69 @sarahhxx03 @sofiparallel @tammythr @lulawantmula @islacharlotte @allyourfavesinoneblog @lover-of-books-and-tea @pedropascalsbbg @ashleyfilm @brittmb115

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #Fall Into Me #pedro pascal #eventual smut #mutual pining #idiots falling for each other

[hrtsdevils]

you made me love the number forty-three | fall to me au

summary: a close-knit bond is formed between luke hughes and y/n l/n throughout the years. they have their ups and downs, but they’ll always be there for one another.

pairing: platonic luke hughes x family friend!reader

wc: 1564

warnings: fuck ass bob

a/n this is based off of abby by gracie abrams, and it’s very dear to my heart! pretend that luke wasn’t committed to umich 2 years before he graduated… for the plot! sorry jack’s kind of a meanie, i love him!!! i swear!! it just fits w the lyrics <3 enjoy and thanks for reading!

tell me your secrets, ask every question. my door is open twenty-four/seven. think you were made from something in heaven. you made me love the number eleven forty-three.

october 2008-september 2010

Your family had known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your mother had played soccer at the University of New Hampshire with Ellen, and she was the first person to cheer her on once hockey season started. This allowed them to form a close bond over their four years of eligibility. The Hughes family travelled a bit around the country due to the careers of Ellen and Jim, but as soon as they settled in Toronto with their seven, five, and three-year-old sons, your mother followed suit with five-year-old you and your eight-year-old older brother.

The older two boys in each family started hockey, and Jack was soon to follow. This left you and little Luke to hang out in the care of Ellen, and occasionally your mom. At first, you loved him, he was like your personal baby doll that you could drag around, dress up, and have tea parties with. Luke didn’t usually object, except for that one incident where you tried to make him wear “clip-clops”, as you called them, to which he had a temper tantrum about the sheer idea of putting them on his feet.

As you grew older, Luke wanted less to do with you and your girly things and more to do with hockey, along with whatever else the boys were doing. Although normal of him, you still felt betrayed. What can you say; you were seven years old. To try and make you fit in, Luke took craft scissors to your long, wavy hair and cut it to look like the boys. Maybe you’d have looked better if you had a pixie cut done by a professional salon, however, he was slightly less than and you came out with the same shaggy haircut as the five-year-old. You ran to your mom immediately, about to cry of embarrassment.

“Mommy, something bad happened!” You screeched, interrupting her conversation with Ellen and catching the attention of the three boys.

Covering her mouth slightly, Ellen was the first to speak, “Oh, sweetie.. what happened?” She reached out to touch your now chin-length locks and brushed a few stray longer hairs out of your eyes.

“Luke cut it, so I could play hockey with them.” You gesture towards the boys, “And now I... I look like him!” You exclaimed out of horror, finally realizing the drastic nature of your actions.

You started to tear up before your mother cut in, “Baby, you both look adorable! It’ll grow out soon, don’t worry about it.”

You were still seething for the rest of the day, and you were plotting your revenge plan on Luke for weeks. You wanted to kill him, and had been ignoring him since that very moment.

You figured your life was over, and what better way to spend your final moments pretending Luke didn’t exist after what he’d done to you. You decided that he was public enemy #1, or at least that’s what he was until you looked in the mirror, albeit a month or two later, and your hair had grown out into a short bob, framing your sweet features beautifully. You started to feel better about it.

Later that day, you went up to your mom and curled up in her lap. “Do you think Luke and I will ever get along again?” You asked while she was reading a book.

Your mother sighed and smiled at you, “You and the boys just have different interests. When you get older, things will be different and you’ll be even closer.”

december 2015

Your mom was right, although you and Luke were pretty far in age, he was practically your baby brother and best friend. You were close, despite differing interests and he would confide in you on a regular basis. One particular night, Luke rode his bike down the sidewalk in the cold, snowy winter and knocked on the window to your first-story bedroom.

You immediately let him in, then asked him what was wrong. Ten-year-old Luke pulled you into a hug and started spilling out his feelings and secrets. “Jack’s so rude!” He exclaimed into your shoulder, “He thinks he’s so much better at everything! Hockey, Mario Kart, basketball, all of it.”

“And?” You inquired, “Just ignore him, Lukey.”

He sniffed some more and released himself from your arms, “He keeps excluding me from his friends and stuff, they’re over and he pretends I don’t exist because I’m not good.” He wiped his nose and sat on the carpeted floor by your bed, “Quinn’s not home, he’s at a tournament with Mom.” He attempted to clarify why Quinn couldn’t stop, although you already knew because your brother was with them.

You frowned, “That’s not cool of him.” You quickly shot a text message to Jim saying Luke came over here to hang out, so nobody got worried. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded, and you offered to make some Kraft mac and cheese. “Feel free to listen to music or something, love you.” You slipped out the door and went to make him some dinner.

Since you were little, you knew for certain that you’d always be there for him and now you knew you’d always look out for him, whenever he needed it. Even if one day he’d be more able to protect himself than you ever could, today you would refrain from marching over to the Hughes residence and getting in a physical fight with Jack.

march 2020

It was almost your eighteenth birthday, so you were visiting home to hang out with your parents, the Hughes’, and a few other hometown friends. You entered the front door to your house after catching up with your friend over coffee to see your parents and the Hughes’ bent over Luke and his laptop. “What’s up?” You question, hanging up your big, puffy jacket.

“We’re waiting for my UMich college acceptance letter, they sent them out today.” He said, nervously. You could tell by the shakiness of his voice.

You joined them at the table, “Don’t be silly, Lukey. You know that they’ve already expressed interest in you and your game.” He smiled a little as you ruffled his hair, and sat down at the chair to the right of him.

“I wish Jack and Quinn were here.” Luke sighed and scratched his head, “Jack promised he’d call, but I think he’s busy.”

You frowned for him, you knew how much closer he and Jack had become in the last few years, but they’d drifted again when Jack moved to New Jersey last year. A part of you wished Jack had gone to college and stayed closer, but you and Luke knew he was too good for the NHL to wait on. “I’m sure he’ll call soon, bub. Give it a little bit.”

After about twenty minutes of refreshing and chatting, the letter from the University of Michigan popped up. It was nerve-wracking. Luke had already been accepted into a few safety schools that wanted him on their hockey teams, but he really wanted to follow in Quinn’s footsteps and go to Michigan. Luke’s cursor hovered over the email for a few moments before clicking it, and to nobody’s surprise, it was an acceptance letter. Everybody cheered, but you seemed the most excited (besides Luke, of course.)

“Luke!” You squealed, hugging the boy from the side as tight as possible, “You did it!”

He hugged you back, “Thanks for supporting me, and letting me sleep on your floor.. and buying me food all the time.” He chuckled, “Couldn’t have done it without you, sissy.”

present day

It was Luke and Jack’s day off, as they had zero games scheduled for the next few days. You had come to visit them to watch a few games, and you were staying at their apartment. It wasn’t a rare occurrence that you came and watched their games, stayed in the guest bedroom of their Hoboken apartment, and hung out with their team and whatever WAGs were joining them. But today it was just you and Luke, chilling on the couch and watching ‘Elf’.

“Remember last November when we went to New York?” You recalled while watching Buddy run through the city. Luke turned the TV down and grinned.

He nodded, “Yeah, good times. And we ate so much chocolate that you almost threw up.”

“That wasn’t because of the chocolate,” you objected, “it was because you were making me laugh so hard my organs hurt.”

Luke snorted as he remembered the vacation and the hotel room you guys stayed in. It was a spontaneous trip on a week when he was injured to try and cheer him up. You guys sat all night judging random music albums and your boyfriend at the time. It was all just a part of a collection of memories you loved to revisit, a photo album in your head.

“God, I can’t believe how old we’re getting.” You said, a tone of sadness. “You used to fit on my shoulders, and now I think you might break them if I tried to give you another piggyback ride.” You laughed softly.

“I’m grateful that our moms raised us two houses down.” Luke threw a piece of popcorn at your face.

You threw it back, “I’m grateful I get to know you.” You stated, a smile gracing your features.

i’m right here. fall to me, to me. fill your head with sweet dreams, sweet dreams. you’d never hurt a thing, nothing. i hope you know to talk to me.

end

#luke hughes #jack hughes #quinn hughes #nj devils #hughes brothers #hughes family #nhl #nhl hockey #luke hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey fic #hockey #maddie writes stuff #hockey au #umich hockey #fall to me au!

[coqvttes]

hello!! first of all, congrats on 600!! you honestly are an amazing writer and truly deserve it. anyways i was wondering if i could get a drabble with leon kennedy and lana del rey’s song playing dangerous?🩷 (my thing for hot police officers is at it again 😭)

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 hey! thank you, love, you're the sweetest i really appreciate it! yes, you can, i really love this song and it goes so well with rookie leon, i might turn this into a whole fic! (i mixed the lyrics a little bit to make it fit better)

nsfw : fem!reader, sub!leonish, teasing rookie leon, suggestive.

"everybody knows that i'm a good girl officer"

'knock knock!'

rushing to open the front door, you wonder why on earth someone would be knocking at this hour. you forget to put on something decent and open the door to be met with a handsome police officer. you find yourself looking at him up and down, too busy checking out the man to even think about why a police officer was knocking at your door this late.

"could i help you, officer?" you ask sweetly, fluttering your lashes at the handsome man in uniform. he looks young; he must be new. this town is fairly small and you swear you've never seen him before.

a faint flush adorns his charming features as he fully takes in your appearance, dressed in a skimpy little nightgown with eyes innocent and nervous that gaze up at him. he coughs out of his trance and you finally get to hear his voice.

"sorry to bother you at this hour, i'm officer kennedy, leon kennedy, we just got a call about suspicious activity around here, could i just ask you a few questions, please?"

"no, i wouldn't do a thing like that, that's for sure"

"am i in trouble, officer..?" your voice is meek and your eyes are concerned. you look straight into his eyes and blood rushes right to his dick. his eyes move lower to avoid your gaze but then he finds himself staring right at your cleavage. fuck.

"n-no! it's- i just need to ask you a few things, its a simple procedure nothing serious!" he pries his eyes away from your chest to look at you again.

"tell me, do you always work alone so late?"

he goes over a few simple questions but you don't pay much attention, too busy fiddling with the necklace around your neck as you nod along with him. he finds himself stuttering over his words, unable to concentrate with a pretty girl like you teasing him.

he tries so hard not to stare at your tits peeking out of your skimpy dress with the way you lean in closer to hear what he’s asking, even though you know exactly what he's saying, you just have to make it so difficult for him, don't you?

he notices how you shiver slightly from the chill in the air and doesn't think before he speaks.

"gosh, i'm a little shy standing here in my nightgown​"

"perhaps i could talk to you inside?" his eyes widen at his own words as heat spreads across his cheeks and you offer him a charming smile before nodding. god that sweet smile of yours, it's going to kill him.

that's why he can't help himself when you invite him into your home, offering him a glass of water as you sit ever so close to him on your sofa. your hand resting on his tense thigh as you lean in closer, your tits pressing against him arm. he's realizes how hard he is and then you're making an excuse that its too hot in the room, so you slip off your thin shawl.

let's just say rookie officer kennedy went a little overtime tonight.

#꒰ ୨୧ : coqvttes kinktober event ꒱ #꒰ 🍓 ꒱ — rasberry jam #leon smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil smut #re2 #re4 #resident evil x reader #resident evil #leon scott kennedy #leon resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon scott kennedy smut #resident evil 4 #resident evil 2

[oh-saints]

okay but .... something cute and domestic with ruben where you're cooking or he's cooking anf you're listening to music (whenever I think of this I think of him listening to this portuguese song called princesa (beija-me outra vez) by boss ac and idk I just think it fits him so well) and just holding each other and making out in the kitchen ... him singing the song to you 😫

anon, just so you know, you got me into the song so much since the first time i saw this on my askbox (which has been a while) that i got carried away

princess

rúben dias x you

word count: 1.3k

tw: mention of sex and suggestive words 👀

notes: happy birthday to our favourite centre-back! gotta celebrate it with a homebody ruben because domestic ruben always sends me... 😫😫 but as usual, i always write at dawn so this is not yet beta-read.

the amazing song's here!

your alarm vibrated your phone against the wooden bedside table and you had never dragged your body up faster than that moment.

for the purpose you were planning today, you had to wake up earlier than your boyfriend. which, ironically had never happened before during your entire 1-year stint with him so far. that was because the giant piece of delicious boyfriend beside you was a morning person and a man of routine—wake up at 7, wash up, wake you up, drink some energy drinks of his own recipe as he waits you to finish dressing up.

funny how you were the one with ordinary 9-5 job yet he always woke up before you and always managed—and so far, without avail—to drive you to work before heading out to his.

so to appreciate all the effortless effort he exerted of being a flawless boyfriend the past year, you intended to celebrate the most important day of his life with something you’d never done before. not with him, and not you’re your exes too, because rúben was worth something else than a mundane, expected gift.

you sneaked out of rúben’s humongous bed, tiptoeing your way out of the room because the centre-back was apparently sensitive to sound as well. multitasking lady as you are, you managed to pick up your boyfriend’s large black shirt he shed carelessly last night from the floor and wore them as you passed by the living room because there’s no way I’m doing this in a Herve Leger dress.

as soon as you reached the kitchen, you ransacked the place, searching for the ingredients you’d scattered all over the place beforehand so rúben wouldn’t get suspicious about the plan you were pulling today. you could swear his ability to read the game reached off the pitch too sometimes and it drove you crazy most of the time.

it might be simple, your plan. it was only putting together his favourite cake, with recipes you got from his mother as well as approval from the club’s nutritionist, but you knew it’d mean the world to rúben because he’d been deprived of the earthly pleasure since he committed himself to the athlete life.

you went on to colonise rúben’s kitchen with your work of art, fully immersed with task at hand and humming along the right lyrics to whatever song was playing.

“minha vida,” shivers ran down your back because he used the combination of his bed voice with the nickname he pulled out only when he was being seriously romantic. “what are you doing?”

damn it, he’s not supposed to wake up in another 30 minutes! you groaned inside but outside, you gave him a sheepish smile, embarrassed to get caught red on action. with flours and eggs and whiskers everywhere, you couldn’t escape him anymore.

“I’m cooking?”

“I see that,” oh fuck, not that sly smirk on his sleepy face. you could feel your resolve dissolving slowly but surely because who could resist this sexy motherfucker in the morning? “why are you cooking then?”

you tried to collect yourself altogether while rúben eliminated the distance between you and him in three strides. “for your birthday, of course.”

in rúben’s standard (his words last night), you both had commemorated the sacred day (your words last night) with an early birthday dinner that followed up with an explosive love-making. so passionate you both could barely contain your desires towards one another right after you both stepped out of the elevator. so passionate it lasted till the wee hours.

which was a record because in between yours and rúben’s hectic schedule, it was nearly impossible to have both of your saturdays and sundays off in the same weekend.

but rúben could see you through the thick veil you were trying to wear, and his smirk only grew at your futile attempt to compose yourself before he pulled your chin closer to his gently, despite his rough hands due to countless harsh contacts with the grass. the sensation left you further breathless, and the sensation of you breathless under his touch was what fueled him to cut off the breaths altogether by clasping his lips to yours without mercy.

you gave in without a fight, of course. you gave him away yourself a long while ago, anyway.

it was always satisfying to hear the click that went off whenever your lips got separated, mostly on rúben's account, but it was more gratifying for rúben to see your cheeks red and lips swollen only for him. “go on then,”

he turned you around, back to face the messy kitchen island, while he settled himself on your back. your senses grew hypersensitive with the way his hands rested lightly on your waist and the way he stood ghostingly behind you. so close, that you could feel him breathing down on you, yet so far with how featherly his touches were, so unlike his usual manner of protective hold.

“don’t stop on my account, gatinha,” and you had to hold back an audible gasp at his timbre rumbling against your spine. “if you stop, I’m going to punish you for making an unfinished mess in my kitchen.”

rúben had the audacity to let out a deep chuckle when you squirmed against his hold, as he murmured the word punish directly at the shell of your ear, as if he didn’t know any better of the effects he had upon you. “I’m serious, meu anjo. don’t test me.”

you had to bite back your response of I’m squirming because I know you’re serious. besides, you weren’t one to back down from a challenge—rúben knew that by now. it was one of the reasons he dated you in the first place, your competitiveness reminded him there was still another layer of clouds above the sky.

so you poured every last ounce of your concentration to working on rúben’s cake to the point you didn’t notice he was already moving away from you, towards the conjoined living room to change your playlist of liked songs into his dedicated playlist for you.

it was only when you’d inserted the baking pan into the oven that you realised rúben was singing—half rapping too because we stan a multitasking king—the song he serenaded you with the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, as he slid his feet against the floor with a bit of dancing groove towards you.

enfeitiçaste-me no dia em que te conheci, fico fulo da vida quando eles olham p'ra ti

you bewitched me the day that I met you, I get mad when they look at you

you laughed at his “stage act” as you washed your hands, a bit faster than your usual thorough routine because in all honesty, you couldn’t help yourself for wanting to join him. the song was long forgotten and your goofy boyfriend was reminding you all the reasons why you fell in love with him, and why you were doing all these surprises in the first place.

“princesa,”

rúben stretched his arms towards you as soon as he saw you were done drying your hands, and before long he’d had you spun around towards him. he caught you at the right moment, engulfing you in a tight back hug despite his twisted arms on your front. but the awkward position was the last thing in his mind when he had you reaching up to kiss him one more whenever the lyrics said beija-me outra vez (kiss me again one more time) before laughing and smiling in his arms as he swayed you left and right gently.

so bright and blinding and happy like it was your birthday instead of his—and he didn’t mind if it felt like that because you’d brought him more mirth in his life in the past year than his long list of exes had ever done.

he didn’t mind because you’d given him more than enough of reasons to live to love you.

“princesa,” rúben drew his hands down the line of your body, feeling every inch and curve hidden beneath his linen shirt. he thought his teenage dream of having his lover wearing white was insane but in reality, wearing black and nothing else but skin underneath his palms was a whole new different game. “you feel so good,”

and it, indeed, felt so damn good as his hands traced the outline of your outer thighs that you didn't feel ashamed for letting out the most disgusting mewl in between broken gasps.

but the oven got to turn off in that moment.

you broke off from your trance as the ting! sound rang off your ears like a siren blaring but rúben held you prisoner under the ministrations of his hands, you remained puny in his arms as his hands travelled closer to the most pulsating, aching part of yourself right now.

“i want you in my birthday suit, princesa,” rúben growled in your ear as he gently bit off the soft bone, the beast not taking a no for an answer. “now.”

#anon asks #oh-saints answers #oh-saints writes #oh-saints writes request #ruben dias #rúben dias #ruben dias smut #ruben dias x you #ruben dias fluff #ruben dias fic #ruben dias fics #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias fanfics #ruben dias blurb #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias blurbs #footballer x you #footie fic #football fic

[stcrgazings]

like a tattoo ➳ (c.l)

part two is up and you can read it here

note: sooooo I literally wrote this out of nowhere, but i like how it turned out, it’s nothing like the song really buttt it has some of its lyrics so it only seemed fitting to name it that. thx to my girly @hey-kae who was my beta reader, and convinced me to post this, love ya. happy reading and don’t be a ghost reader!

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader

summary: in which you’re having a very hard time trying not to think about your ex-boyfriend charles, and with his dnf in the first race of the season, everything seems to remind you of him.

warnings: use of alcohol, lots of swearing (mostly fuck), a very heartbroken reader, mentions of a dick-ish charles, smoking ¿?? kinda

word count: 1,5K (it’s a shortie but I promise is soooo good)

“and it’s a Ferrari slowing down guys, and it looks like it’s Leclerc” the commentator in the tv says and your heart immediately drops.

Yes, you hate him, and don’t even wanna look at his face ever again but your heart still aches for him and the way his team is failing him yet again in what is barely the first race of the season.

Your model friend turns to look at you as the stylist sips you up over the black tube dress and fixes your hair in the tight ponytail that adorned you head.

“That’s karma” says the girl besides you, as you inevitably roll your eyes.

“That’s one way to call it” you say and everyone in the room that was starting at you bursts out in laughter.

You wanted to hate him, you really did, but you couldn’t help but wanting to text him after that awful race for him.

But fuck him, right?

He had a championship to win, at least that what he said when he broke up with you cold blooded, so yeah, fuck him and his stupid unreliable little red car.

you look at yourself in the mirror and smile at the reflection, you’re pretty, the most wanted model of every single luxury brand, and you eventually will get over him.

So you say your goodbyes as you exit the Prada building after signing yet another contract to add to your portfolio, your girl best friend hooked in your arm as you both giggled softly about where you both will be partying that nigth.

“But in Monaco right?” She asks as you both enter the limousine waiting for you at the front.

“Yeah I guess” is all you answer as you manager turns to look at you both.

Your hand lingers through your phone and eventually Charles contact, you wanted to text him, but at the end you decide against it, but something in the back of your mind tells you to unblock him and so you do.

Maybe some vodka will give you the courage to text him, or at least to hook up with someone else to forget about those haunting green eyes.

“We’re going to a club” you answer, finally lifting your eyes from the device your managers face quickly going pale.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” He asks serious, you roll your eyes.

“Why?” You play dumb as your friend besides you giggles.

“Bella don’t support her!” He complains.

“I’m actually curious why not?” The model asks again, also playing dumb, the man in front of you squeezing his fists as the both of you gang up on him.

“You going out partying and getting hammered when your ex just got his ass kicked at the race, how do you think the media would react to that?”

you meant this with absolutely every bone of your tiny body, when you say this;

“Do you really think I care what the media thinks? Fuck them for all I care” You spit and Bella besides you claps and cheers and picks a fight with your manager who is clearly unhappy with your plans of the night, he lists all of the cons and the reasons you should stay at home tonight.

“It’s a Sunday y/n, for gods sake!” He says but you didn’t listen and truly did not care a bit.

This is what you’ve been doing for the pasts weeks to try and cope with what he had done to you, and you hated yourself for not just getting over him.

Because it’s not like he was boyfriend of the year when you two were together, in the last months of your relationship he barely even acknowledge you, and he had dump you over call after what it was the biggest fight of your relationship.

Because you had exploded out frustration from his constant indifference, and dick ass attitude, and then ditched the apartment you both shared together.

So naturally when when he called you hours later you thought it was maybe to fix the things between the both of you.

But boy were you wrong.

Somewhere along the lines of “you’re just a model you don’t understand anyway” and “text me when you come get your things” the person you had love the most for the longest time broke your heart and didn’t looked back.

And so you went into self defense and destructive mode and if he didn’t looked back neither did you, blocking him in every social media known to men.

And like that you were strangers with who one was your favorite person in the entire earth.

And so if you wanted to go and get completely hammered after he lost a stupid race you would.

(…)

The Weeknd was playing as you downed another shot with people surrounding you as they cheered you on.

you were pretty wasted, but you still couldn’t get the Ferrari driver out of your mind.

All that you could think about was him, how much you missed him, and how much you wanted him right now.

As you danced with strangers hand all over your body you couldn’t help but remember his.

You remembered his hands, the way you would squirm under his touch, how he would show you how the stars looked like with just his fingers, the way his hands fit practically like they were meant to be holding yours, how good it feel when they were wrap around your neck, and how he would woke you up with them as he tickle you in to his arms, the way he held you at night as you both talk about your days and how much you missed each other.

Suddenly it all feels like too much, you pushed the stranger away from you, his grab in you becoming overwhelming and you need air, a single tear running trough your cheek and you can’t breath and it’s so unfair.

It’s unfair because you’ve had the worse months of your life and he had just moved on, with who used to be one of your best friends.

(Or at least that’s what every single media outlet said)

And you probably shouldn’t believe it but you still remembered the bile coming up your throat as you stared at the pictures of them at the Paris Fashion Week.

So you sit with your head thrown back in on of the sofas of the private booths at the club, and as the air conditioner hit your face, you remembered his hands and the way the mountains looked when you took that trip to the French Alps last Christmas, and you wanted to sob because of how awful it all felt and how much your body ache for him, you close your eyes and take some deep breath, and you can almost feel his lips against yours, you can almost see the life shooting diamonds from his eyes, his beautiful eyes.

The ones that would haunt you at night when you couldn’t sleep because all you did was think of him, how he was doing, if he missed you as much as you did him.

“You want a cig? Looks like you need it” a stranger asks in front of you, you mumble a no as you can, being so lost in your own head.

For the longest time Charles was by far, in your books at least the best person in the world, always so happy and perky, his smile lighting up your days, and nights, always so hungry for life, wanting for you to know the world the same way he did, always so passionate about the things he loved, always so passionate and loving of you.

You can’t help but wonder when it all went wrong, maybe somewhere between France and Abu Dhabi, the last being the last time you remembered being genuinely happy beside Charles, because yes he had come second in the championship but you remembered the way he held you up and kissed you in the hotel room and for a moment you thought you both will be fine.

But when you reach the top, it comes the fall.

And it was all fighting and misunderstandings and misery because you just wanted to be with him but he just wouldn’t let you.

Now you were there, still falling, wanting to forget about those times when you were happy with him.

He moved on, why couldn’t you?

Sitting there you beg for the universe to help you, to give you a sign, anything really, that eventually things would change, that you would stop feeling this way, that the hole inside your chest would disappear and finally the air would feel the way it’s supposed to and breathing and waking up in the morning wouldn’t be as hard as it had been lately and happiness would return your way and things would get better.

Obviously the least that you expect is your phone screen lighting up.

Especially with the name of the one that hadn’t been able to leave your mind in the entire night.

Suddenly and “I miss you” text from Charles hits you out of nowhere like a brick in the face.

Maybe you’ll take that cigarette now.

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #f1 oneshot #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc one shot #f1 fic #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc drabble #f1 imagine #charles leclerc x female character #f1 x reader #f1 angst #ferrarri #charles leclerc angst #bahrain gp 2023 #f1 one shot #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x reader

[kitten4sannie]

𝐖𝐡𝐲'𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐌𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡?

Part 2

Ex Boyfriend! Wooyoung x Fem! Reader 

Genre: smut, slight angst

Summary: When your toxic ex gave you a call late at night, you knew exactly what was up. You weren’t dumb. He was high again. And he wanted you. 

W.C:  3.8k

Warnings: weed use, nsfw, Wooyoung’s a dick, misogyny, toxicity, fwb (more like mortal enemies w benefits), dom! Wooyoung, sub! reader, lots of swearing, degradation, fingering, oral (receiving and giving), Wooyoung may be toxic but he loves eating pussy, orgasm denial, squirting, deep throating, brief cum play, manhandling, rough (unprotected) sex, pussy slapping, regular slapping, choking, hair pulling, name calling

A/N: I had a really fun time writing this lol like were moments where I had to just close my laptop and take a breather 🫠 This is just pure painslut paradise, so if you’re into that then I hope you enjoy ♡ Also, I would appreciate it if you could leave a comment or reblog if you really enjoyed reading this! I would love to see what some of you thought of it :) 

Song Recs: WYOCMWYH and Do I Wanna Know by The Arctic Monkeys, You Get Me So High by The Neighborhood (the last lyrics of this song fit so well with this ughh “If you can just let me know if it's okay to call you when I'm lonely” like ???!!)

Masterlist

➽───────────────❥

You were washing the makeup off your face and humming along to your favorite song when the music suddenly cut off. Your ringtone started blasting into your airpods, causing you to wince in pain. Who the hell was calling you at this hour? What ever happened to basic human decency?

“Who the fuck..?” you mumbled to yourself, blindly reaching for your wash cloth to wipe your face. Once you could see, you peered down at your phone, grimacing instantly. Of course it would be Wooyoung. Just your luck.

Your finger hovered over the bottom of your phone, wondering if you should just ignore him. The last time you had interacted with Wooyoung, you had fucked all over his apartment, only to end up in a huge argument over the fact that he felt he wasn’t the only toxic one and that you were just as a bad as him. Neither of you could come to an agreement (shocker) because you felt that he was the one who brought it out of you, believing you were inherently good. Or maybe the two of you were just oil and water. Doomed to always repel each other. Who knows. You weren’t a psychologist. 

Fuck it. 

You sighed, silently cursing yourself for being so mentally weak, before answering his call.

“Um, you do know that people sleep at this hour, right? What could you possibly want?” you snapped as soon as the call connected, placing your hand on your hip unconsciously. 

“Come over,” the man responded with an uncharacteristically gravelly voice. He only sounded like that when he had smoked too much and his throat was dry. You leaned your back against your bathroom counter, playing with a lock of your (h/c) hair. 

“What happened to all the ‘hoes’ you talk about pulling? Aren’t any of them awake? Or was that just bullshit, like everything else that comes out of your mouth?” you sneered, trying to get under his skin as much as possible, despite being almost excited to hear how he would react.

Wooyoung’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, his jaw clenching involuntarily. After a second of thinking, he retorted smugly, “Don’t act like you weren’t just bouncing on my dick a few weeks ago, whore.”

You swallowed harshly, a wave of heat going straight into your core. You remained silent for a minute, not even knowing how to respond to that. You wanted to argue with him, of course, since it was a reflex at the point. You couldn’t though, since you knew he was right. 

Wooyoung took a quick inhale of his joint, exhaling, “Get your fucking ass over here. Now.”

You almost choked on your spit, hating how much he turned you on when he treated you like this. Oh, well. You knew you probably needed therapy, but that shit was too expensive. At least fucking Wooyoung was therapeutic, in a way. Not to mention, it felt ten times better than it felt to confront your own issues. 

“Fine,” you hissed into the phone, your eyebrows knitting together. “I’ll be there in 20. Try not to not to nut before I get there.” 

You heard him let out a small chuckle, picturing the stupid smirk he probably had plastered on his stupid sexy face. He, in fact, was smirking. He may have hated you, but he loved this dynamic you had together. And he was going to take full advantage of it. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I can wait. You know how much I love covering your dumb little slutty face in my cum.” 

You gripped your phone tightly in your hand, the tips of your fingers almost turning white. Jung Wooyoung. He knew exactly what he wanted and he always got his way. No wonder he was such an insufferable prick. You fucking despised him, sure. But you loved fucking him just as much. It was quite the predicament. 

“S-see you in a bit, “ you mumbled, hanging up before he could make fun of you for being so flustered. 

You didn’t bother putting more makeup on; you weren’t about to put all that effort into looking like a whole snack. Especially not for Wooyoung. He would have to accept you as you are: bare faced, hair up in a loose ponytail, and wearing your favorite pair of sweatpants. 

When you finally arrived at his apartment building, you put in the door code and stepped inside in the lobby. You groaned, noticing the ‘out of order’ sign that was plastered on the elevator door.

“Great,” you mumbled to yourself, before reluctantly heading to the stairs. By the time you got to the 6th floor, you were a little sweaty. You wiped the perspiration from your forehead and tugged a bit on your plain white tank top in an attempt to cool down. You walked down the hall and stopped when you got to his apartment, knocking loud enough for him to hear from his living room.

Wooyoung put his joint down into the small ashtray that was sitting next to him, before walking over to the door and opening it. He looked at you, eyes squinting.

“You look like shit,” he commented plainly, as he walked back to his couch and plopped down onto it.

You shut the door somewhat hard, throwing your bag onto the floor in the process. You stood there for a second, trying to come up with a good comeback. 

“Woo, shut the fuck up, okay? Cuz’ as soon as I sit down on that couch, you’re gonna be two fingers deep in this pussy. Don’t even try to deny it,” you huffed, kicking your shoes off near the door. 

Wooyoung’s brown eyes rolled back into his head, as you sat down on the couch next to him. He didn’t deny it, so you felt that you had won that time. You picked up his half-smoked joint from the ashtray and placed it between your lips.

“Gimme.” You pointed at the lighter that was sitting on the small table next to the couch. It was too far away for you to grab it yourself. Wooyoung glanced over at you, raising one eyebrow slightly. You stared back on him, blinking a couple times. He sighed, grabbing the lighter and tossing it into your lap. 

“So lazy,” he commented, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in you. 

You flicked the little wheel on the lighter angrily, before deeply inhaling the smoke into your lungs. You needed to be high as soon as possible, or else you risked losing your damn mind. 

“I swear that mouth of yours is only capable of talking shit,” you spat, glaring in his direction.

Wooyoung met your angry eyes with his own half-closed ones, his lips forming into a lewd smile. His hand dropped down onto your thigh, his fingers massaging into it like he was molding some playdough.

“You know it’s capable of doing a lot more than that. Don’t you, baby?” he said, leaning closer to you. “Or does a forgetful little slut like you need a reminder?” 

You felt your heart almost stop beating inside your chest, not only from his shamelessness, but from the way his slender fingers continued to move further and further up your thigh. 

“I-i think I need a reminder,” you mumbled, still desperately puffing on the joint that you held between your thumb and index fingers.

“Mm, that’s what I thought,” he exhaled, as his fingers suddenly moved past your sweatpants and made direct contact with your bare pussy. Wooyoung groaned, pleased with your decision to go commando.

He moved his fingers up and down your slit, noticing how incredibly wet you already were for him. Without any hesitation, he slipped two digits inside you, all the way to his knuckles, just as you predicted only a few minutes earlier. Not that it was impressive or anything; he did this every time you two met up. 

Wooyoung grunted, working his fingers in and out of your cunt, extremely pleased with the squelching sounds that accompanied his quick movements. It was like music to his ears. 

“Fuck, Y/N. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already soaking wet,” he purred against your ear, before nipping it. 

“Don’t-aah-let it go to your head,” you responded shakily, tossing the remains of the joint into the ashtray. “I just-nnngh-get wet really easily. A-anyone could be touching me and this would still happen.”

Wooyoung’s fingers suddenly pulled away from your lower half and were instead used to grab your chin roughly, forcing you to face him. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Y/N. If even one more word comes out of that whore mouth of yours, you’re gonna get it.” He tilted his head slightly, as if he was challenging you to say something.

Fuck yes. 

This was the only side of Wooyoung that you actually wanted to see come out. There was something incredibly wrong about that, but you couldn’t care less. All you cared about was getting off. That was probably the only thing you two could relate to. 

You licked your lips in anticipation, before leaning up close to his face. Your lips formed a small, almost smug smile. Inhaling sharply beforehand as an attempt to prepare yourself, you stated, “Fuck. You~”

***

“F-fffuck…! Wooyoooung…!” you moaned out shakily, burying your face into the sheets of his bed. You were currently laying in a head-down, ass-up position near the edge of the bed, your legs spread wide open. Wooyoung was on his knees on the floor, face buried in your pussy. 

“Mmmn…you taste so fucking good…” he mumbled against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. He had been eating you out for over 40 minutes, clearly taking his sweet time. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence; in fact, he always made sure he ate your pussy to his heart’s content before he even thought about letting you leave. Wooyoung was simply a huge fan of cunillingus. He loved the way he could feel your pussy pulse against his tongue, the way your juices would constantly spill out of you, but his favorite thing was how your pussy looked after he was done with you. Swollen and dripping with your essence. Just thinking about it could make his dick hard on command.

“Wooyoung, oh my fucking god, yes…!” you cried, feeling his fingers moving in and out of you at a rapid pace. You felt yourself getting closer and closer to cumming for the fourth time in a row, your body slowly relaxing and your moans getting progressively louder. 

Wooyoung noticed this and pulled his mouth away from you, saliva mixed with your wetness dripping down his chin. You whined in response, slamming your closed fist down onto the mattress in protest.

 “Wooyoung, stop being such a dick and let me cum!” you yelled, on the verge of losing your mind. It almost hurt getting so close to orgasming and then having it ripped away from you, only to start the process once again. 

Wooyoung answered your plea by giving your slit a harsh slap, rubbing it afterwards. He did it a few more times in a row, only stopping when he was satisfied with the reddened state of your pussy. Chuckling when he heard you mewling like the painslut you were, he stated, “I’ll let you cum if you beg for it. Can you do that for me, Y/N?” 

You swallowed your pride and obliged Wooyoung’s request, whining, “Please, Woo! Make me cum! I need it so bad!” You looked back at him, wanting him to see how needy you were. As much as you hated seeing Wooyoung’s smug face, you wanted to get completely wrecked by him. No one else could do it like him, not that you would ever tell him that. 

Wooyoung exhaled through his nose, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. You could tell by his facial expression that he was incredibly aroused by your obedience and overall submissiveness. Without a word, he dove tongue-first back into your pussy, immediately getting to work. He then shoved his middle and index fingers into your needy hole once again,  finger-fucking you at a brutal pace. 

“Fuck! Oh my fucking god…!” you cried out, unable to think about anything else except for Wooyoung and how good he was making you feel. When you felt him spread your ass and shove his tongue in and out of your pulsing pussy, you began to see stars. 

“Cum for me,” Wooyoung commanded, as he used two fingers from his free hand to rub rapidly against your swollen clit. “Cum all over my fucking face.” 

He was working your body in such an intense way, you could’ve sworn that you were about to pass out. Spikes of pleasure coursed through your body like lightning, causing the edges of your vision to blur. Suddenly, everything faded away and you were floating, in a state of complete euphoria. You screamed Wooyoung’s name, violently squirting all over his face and fingers. 

“Whoa…” he gawked, completely shocked by how much cum had squirted out of you. Wooyoung had made you squirt before, but he had never made you squirt that hard. He was so incredibly hard at this point that he knew he’d probably nut as soon as you touched him, but he didn’t care. Honestly, he was just glad that he could witness you in such a fucked-out state already. And he hadn’t even stuck his dick inside you yet. 

“It’s my turn now, baby,” he informed you, wiping as much of your wetness off of his face as he could with his fingers and sucking them clean. 

You laid down on your back, putting two pillows underneath your head. Wooyoung straddled you, his knees on either side of your chest, just below your armpits. His swollen twitching cock was right in front of your face, causing you to almost start drooling. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, holding his shaft with his dominant hand and the back of your head with the other. 

“I’m gonna throat-fuck you, okay?” 

You nodded, very familiar with his tastes by now. Typically, you didn’t usually enjoy choking on dick, but it was different when it came to Wooyoung. You simply loved when he treated you like his own personal fuckdoll. 

Wooyoung wasn’t a monster; he took his time with you at first, letting you suck his dick normally for a while, until he needed more. He exhaled, using his hands to grip the sides of your head, his cock pumping in and out of your throat at an unforgiving pace. You did your best not to gag, but it was inevitable. Tears streamed down your cheeks, only serving to fuel Wooyoung’s insatiable lust. 

“Oh, yeah…Take this cock, you fucking whore…” he groaned, thrusting roughly into your open mouth and ultimately reaching his high just as quick as he expected. You let out a few muffled moans, feeling your wetness leaking out of your cunt like a broken faucet. 

“Shit! I’m-aaah-'' Wooyoung's words were cut off by his own moans, his fingers suddenly gripping the base of your ponytail and pulling it roughly as he reached his limit. He yanked your head back, causing his dick to slide out of your mouth with a lewd ‘pop’, just in time for his hot cum to shoot out onto your face in spurts. You both sat there for a moment, trying to catch your breath and recover. 

“You look so fucking hot like this…” Wooyoung exhaled, reaching down to spread his cum across your cheeks and all over your swollen lips, before sliding his cum-covered fingers into your mouth so that you could clean them.

 “Mm, you're my good little cumslut…” 

Once he pulled his hand away, you both sat in silence just gazing at each other. It was moments like this that made you question why you two couldn’t just work out your differences and try again, but then Wooyoung opened his mouth. 

“You shouldn’t look at me like that. I might make the mistake of thinking you’re in love with me again. And that would be rough because you already know I don’t waste my time wifing up whores like you,” he sneered, instantly reminding you why you hated his guts.

 Sure, you usually liked it when Wooyoung called you a whore, but this was different. He didn’t say it to turn you on; he said it to piss you off.

“Fuck you!” you retorted, shoving him off of you and onto the floor. After climbing down from the bed to where Wooyoung had landed, you angrily straddled him, instantly sliding down onto his cock and bouncing on it like your life depended on it. 

“Oh, fuck…” he exhaled, his hands immediately gripping your hips, as though it was muscle memory. Wooyoung was caught off guard by your anger, in all honesty, allowing you to be in control for once. He silently watched the way your breasts would bounce up and down every time you moved, before reaching up to grope them. You ground your hips against his, the anger you felt bubbling up inside you. Suddenly, you snapped. 

“You’re such a fucking asshole, Wooyoung!” you spat, slapping him square across the jaw.

 Wooyoung grunted, feeling his cheek stinging, his dick twitching inside of you. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence; he actually quite enjoyed it. As did you. 

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, his dark eyes boring into your own. 

Before you knew what was happening, you found yourself being shoved down onto the floor and your legs being spread forcibly. He slapped you across the face, just as hard as you had done to him, causing your ear to ring temporarily.

You felt your pussy pulse in response to the pain, just like every other time he smacked you. Wooyoung then shoved his cock inside you without any hesitation and thrusted harshly into you, pinning your hands above your head before you could retaliate. 

“I hate you…!” you cried out, glaring up at him. “I hate you so much!”

“Yet you’re you still here taking this fucking cock inside your tight little cunt,” he snarled, his face only inches away from yours. “You’re a fucking joke, Y/N. Just be a good girl for once and let me fuck you without all the theatrics.” 

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but before you could say anything, Wooyoung’s thumb was sliding past your lips and onto your tongue. You moaned, unable to keep yourself from sucking on it. He leered down at you, his dick throbbing against your inner walls. 

“That’s a good girl…” he praised, continuing to pound into you at a brutal pace, making sure to hit your g-spot each time. It felt so unbelievably good, that you could’ve sworn your soul was actually leaving your body. Your mind was completely blank; all you could focus on was the incredible pleasure that was washing over you.

You were only brought back to reality when you felt Wooyoung’s warm fingers wrapping around your throat. Feeling deliciously dizzy, you let out a series of strangled moans, very close to reaching your high. 

“Cum for me,” he commanded. “Now.”’

Wooyoung had one hand around your neck and used the other to throw one of your legs over his shoulder, allowing him to fuck you at a deeper angle. You yelled out Wooyoung’s name, instantly cumming all over his dick. Once your pussy tightened around his length like a vice, Wooyoung moaned out in ecstasy. Cum spilled out of his cock and filled you up completely, just how you liked it.

“Fuck…” you exhaled, resting your head back on the shaggy carpet below you.

 You both laid there for a good minute, just catching your breath. After the both of you had slowly come back to reality, you both silently climbed onto the bed and collapsed onto it.

You felt yourself sinking into the mattress, ready to pass out. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you heard Wooyoung’s voice break the silence, causing you to look over in his direction. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams,” he mumbled, giving you an unexpectedly kind smile, before turning his body to face away from you.

You blinked, wondering where the hell that came from. He must’ve still been high; that was the only logical explanation your tired brain could come up with. Closing your eyes once again, you mumbled back, “Night, Wooyoung.” 

By the time Wooyoung woke up the following morning, you were already gone. There was no evidence that you had even been there, except for the cum stains you left on his sheets. How romantic. 

Wooyoung sat up while letting out a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared at the mess you made near the edge of his bed. He would never admit it to you, but he actually thoroughly enjoyed the time he spent with you, even though it solely consisted of fighting and fucking. The troubled young man sat there for a while, replaying last night’s events inside his head over and over. 

“Fuck…” he mumbled, before throwing himself back down onto the mattress. As he inhaled some of your perfume that still remained on his pillow, he made a mental note inside his head to stock up on some more weed so that he had an excuse to see you again.  

Tags: @dazzlinglight @thefinerthingz3 @cloudysannie @aryraaaa @za-con @cosmiczen @choerryge @aikyub @arusio @gueritaybonita @i-l0v3hands @ethicalz @jinsonaz @kitty4hwa @jexidamulti @as-she-pleases @just-a-simp @purplechannie @jazzymoore @kodzukein @asjkdk @cherryxsang @namsloverr @chanst1ddies @woo-stars @createyour0wnworld @iheartkila123 @mingisgf @lilactiny @vlrity @icyhyunie @eclecticranchzonkcookie

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© toxicccred, 2022.

#ateez #ateez smut #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x female reader #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #kpop smut #ateez oneshot #ateez hard hours

[fubu18writes]

❧ he never expected the sweet librarian from the college campus who never made eye contact to be in a bar where everyone could see her

♢regular tags: f!reader, college au, reader is a stripper, swearing ♢mature tags: reader is called "bunny", riding, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, doggy position, hair pulling, swearing ♢ all characters are 18+ and above unless stated otherwise

a/n: and the first thing i write here on tumblr is smut... and my first time writing it. also been on a haitani rindou brainrot so yeah, this led to it. i also went for lyric format like back in the wattpad days of song fics, since it'll fit the mood a little bit.

Haitani Rindou only went with Shion and the rest at a bar as a joke and maybe to celebrate because they finished their finals for the first semester.

What he didn't expect was seeing a familiar face on the stage.

You, (l/n) (y/n), the sweet librarian that he always passed by during the morning, afternoon, and nights on both school days and weekends. And from what he seen and heard from everyone who knew you on campus, you weren't the type to make eye contact for long and you preferred being in private.

Yet here you both are. In a private room that Rindou didn't expect this bar to have.

It was awkward, to say the least.

"Didn't know you had a sideline," Rindou tried making conversation, even though it would've make the situation more awkward than it already is.

"It's technically a hobby," You hum, fixing your hair on the vanity, eyeing him in the mirror. You could see his slightly confused expression as he sat on the bed. "A hobby," He repeats. "You're doing this... as a hobby."

Rindou was usually the type to get certain things at a glance or from a simple statement. But with this? And from you, who he thought was timid? He might as well let the world swallow him up.

You face him now, your hair all neat-looking. There was a sly grin on your face at seeing his expression. "What? Is the Haitani Rindou nervous at seeing a fellow classmate in skimpy clothing?"

Rindou would be in denial if he said no, but he wasn't admitting it. After all, who wouldn't be nervous if he saw his classmate, who wore oversized clothes, in a short, purple-colored dress with a zipper at the front? "What makes you think I'm nervous?" He raises an eyebrow at you. "It's just you."

There was a pause before to walked near him at the foot of the bed.

(You don't have to be so cautious If you practice what you preach Counting up the stacks on the counter A fucking disease)

Rindou feigned his nervousness with a blank expression, even if you were sitting on his lap to face him.

"So," Rindou resisted the urge to grab you by the waist. "What made you take this hobby?"

He feigned his nervousness, and somewhat lust starting to cloud in his mind, when you gave a grin. "Who knows? Maybe I want all eyes on me, even if I don't show it."

There was something laced in your tone and Rindou caught on quickly. He let his restraints go off little by little, and he held your waist. "Whose eyes, (y/n)?" He asks in a hushed tone.

"Hmm, maybe yours."

That was the tipping point.

(Don't ask me to be righteous If you practice what you teach Counting all your blessings the second You're down on your knees)

His lips were on yours, the kiss gentle at first before turning into something heated and passionate. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, his tongue sweeping past your lips. It was like the hunger and desire was there already, waiting for so long before finally giving in, leaving you breathless as he pulled away. He only allowed you a single gasp before slating his lips over and over again.

"Wait, wait..." You manage to breathe out once Rindou pulled away. You tug on his shirt, lust filled in your eyes. "Need you to take this off, now."

"Takes one to ask one, bunny." Rindou says with a smirk. You felt yourself clenching onto nothing with the nickname, and he notices your reaction. "Like that, huh? Then I'll mark you up like one."

Clothes were on the ground, leaving you in your black-laced bra and Rindou with his polo shirt. You clenched his dual-colored locks the moment his tongue was against your clit, sending a jolt through your body. His tongue worked its way in and out of your dripping pussy. "Fuck, Rin--" A breathy moan escapes your lips, your thighs squeezing around his head. "Wait, too fast-"

Rindou was just ignoring you, nuzzling his face deeper as the subtle friction against your clit sent another jolt throughout your body. You gripped his hair, pulling him harder against you.

Your breathing quickens, moaning out his name as you felt your climax. You could hear his loud slurping of your slick, and he looked up at you with glossy eyes.

"That's it, I'm makin' sure your eyes are all mine."

(So why, why Don't we get a little high, high?)

It was the younger Haitani's idea to fuck you from behind, your arms on the vanity so you could get a view of yourself in the mirror. His cock was on full-view, and you could only clench your fists as he entered inside you.

"Bet no one fucked you like this, right?" Rindou gripped your hair like how you did with his. "Bet no one's-" He did an experimental thrust, earning a moan from you. "-seen or heard you like this-"

You couldn't say anything coherent. All you could do was babble nonsense along with his name over and over again. You hid your face, which prompted Rindou to pull on your hair, forcing you to look at the mirror.

"Gotta let my bunny know what she looks like-" Rindou hit your sensitive spot. "-being all fucked up like this-"

You could feel your legs trembling again as you were staring at your face in the mirror: Hair disheveled, bra strap loosened. You could even see Rindou's expression, and it showed that he was dead set on making your climax come again.

(Don't we get a little, get a little Don't we get a little high Get a little high, high)

"Fuck, Rin--inside, come inside-!" You started begging. "Want you to fill me up, Rin!"

Another tipping point broke in Rindou that night. "You're mine, got that, bunny?"

"All yours, Rin, all yours-"

"Let 'em hear you say it, bunny."

"I'm yours, all yours--Fuck, Rindou, gonna--!"

"Shit, don't move-" Rindou lets go of your hair now to hold your waist. A low growl escapes his lips, feeling your pussy clench around his cock as the both of you release your climax.

You pant heavily, trying to catch your breath. You turn to look at him. "I'm all yours, m'kay?"

"You fucking tease." Rindou had another smirk on his face. "You took the hobby to make me do this, didn't you?"

You only let out a hum at that. You let out a whine when he pulled out, your pussy dripping with both of your juices. "You're still clenching..." He pulls you close, you facing him once more. "Gonna have to punish you for makin' me wait this long, bunny."

#norrisworks #tokyo revengers #tokyorevengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev #tokyorev x reader #tokyorev smut #haitani rindou #haitani rindou x reader #haitani rindou x reader smut #haitani rindou smut

[xirayn]

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal)

Read Ch 1 of the full fic here

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Featuring @aibhlynn as Eddie

Singing in the car with Eddie is quickly becoming one of Steve's favorite things. The freedom of it produces a euphoria that leaves him smiling even after dropping Eddie up. Steve wishes he could bottle that feeling; especially since he's likely to lose it once Eddie's van is fixed. They'll still be friends,of course, after all that they've been through it will take more than their differences and lack of forced proximity to end that, but Steve doesn't know if they'll still sing together.

He pulls up in front of the high school. The Hellfire Club has disbanded due to the satanic panic Hawkins is still shaking off, but that has left Eddie time to study with Nancy. She waves at Steve as they walk out together then says something to Eddie that makes him clasp his hands over his heart and stagger as if shot. She shakes her head at his theatrics before heading to where her mother is waiting to pick her up.

Eddie grins after her. Steve swears his smile gets brighter when he turns towards the BMW.

"Is she kicking you ass?" he asks once the passenger door swings open.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Eddie groans as he slumps into the seat. His school bag falls with a thud to the floor. "She threatened to take away my baby if I didn't pass the test on Friday." 

"Ah, man, not the guitar," Steve laughs.

Rolling his eyes, Eddie doesn't say that it isn't his guitar that Nancy is threatening to take away. She is turning out to be a huge help in Eddie's quest to actually graduate this year, but threatening to prevent him from seeing Steve is a line in the sand. Because Nancy knows. She is frighteningly smart, so naturally she has figured out that riding with Steve, belting out tunes and bantering about one another's taste in music, has climbed the ranks of activities that Eddie enjoys by noting how he eagerly waits for the familiar sound of Steve's BMW and that the repairs to his van were taking a suspiciously long time.

Eddie eyes the radio as he buckles himself in.

"We talked about this, Pretty Boy. Why are you listening to Foreigner?" 

He ejects the offending tape to replace with one pulled from his bag and Steve pretends to look offended. The opening of Metallica's latest album flows through the vehicle.

"Because 'Growing up the Hard Way' speaks to me on a personal level," Steve defends.

"Shame on you," Eddie teases.

An idea form's a smirk that crinkles the corner of Steve's hazel eyes. As 'Battery' crashes down on them, he marks the beat and does a few edits on the fly to lyrics he has heard a hundred times before doing his best to sing over Hatfield's vocals.

"He's got nothing to say, 

He's got no excuses,

He was just 

made-that-way

Like a dog on the loose,

In a world of his own,

He won't back down or

Run-a-way'

It is far from a perfect fit, but Steve makes it work to the best of his abilities and a grin sweeps across Eddie's face. He lives for moments like this where he gets to see the tension Steve carries melt away like ice on a warm day. He likes knowing he played a part in relaxing his best friend. And Steve is his best friend as much as that realization had been a surprise. He cared deeply for the band and his players, but Steve fucking Harrington has gotten closer than any of them.

Once Steve is finished, tripping over lyrics turning into a laugh as the music continues, Eddie chuckles along with him. 

"Man, you should come sing with the band."

The suggestion earns a scoff that still holds onto the joy of laughter. Steve's fraction of 'Master of Puppets' done with Corroded Coffin had been fun, but he doubts anyone aside from Eddie actually wants him to join. He is the former King Steve, top asshole jock of Hawkins High. He can't imagine the rest of the band having anything other than contempt for him.

"Sure." Steve shakes his head. "I bet the rest of your band will be all for it."

"Stevie, they are practically harassing me to convince you to join the band." 

Every time Eddie has seen his band mates since they heard Steve, the first question is if he's convinced him to join. Eddie is proud of them for seeing past Steve's high school labels and acknowledging how he has changed. That voice of his is a good added incentive.

He reaches over to flick one of the locks of hair that arcs over Steve's forehead. He's careful not to be too distracting. He has witnessed Steve go off on the Party about the dangers of distracting the driver several times.

"Our next practice is Saturday." Eddie’s voice lowers as if he's sharing a secret or possibly asking a favor. "I want you to be there."

The opening riffs of 'The Thing That Should Not Be' play as Steve fights with himself. His teeth worry his lip. The lecture from his father on 'meaningless hobbies' that led to Steve giving up guitar in middle school plays through his head. Honestly, though, his dad can fuck off. Eddie wants Steve there; said the words with a gentle hope Steve isn't used to. And he wants to be there. Singing those few bars of 'Master of Puppets' was the most alive he had felt in months, maybe years.

"Alright." His voice is lost under the heavy guitar and drum that rolls through them. He clears his throat. "I mean, sure. If the rest of the band is cool with it."

A smile lights up Eddie's face, dimples and teeth on full display.

"Cool," he teases. With Steve as their front man, Eddis is certain the band will succeed. Their music might change, but he finds the prospect of creating a new sound exciting. Something like Foreigner lyrics set to Metallica's instrumentals except entirely their own. "Two on Saturday. If you don't have anything planned, you can stay over Friday night and we can drive over together. I have a new record I have been waiting to listen to." 

Waiting for Steve to come over to listen with him.

"You mean I can drive you," Steve corrects.

"Of course, Big Boy," Eddie responds with mock exasperation. He can't stop smiling.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things au #let steve be in the band #steddie ficlet #corroded coffin #steddie au

[eishxn]

—teaser!

synopsis: a classical pianist who lost his passion for music, only seeing it as a bore and a pain—got the interest of a certain band member of a rising band. Kunikuzushi is already tired of his group's bullshit but now venti is adding another member—and it's his greatest academic rival too.

genre: academic rivals, social media au, band au, enemies to lovers, gay asf, slow burn, college au, modern au.

warnings: mommy and daddy issues, mentions of kys and kms jokes, ooc scaramouche, heavy swearing because come on this is scara we're talking about, depression<3, anxiety, will probably have nsfw, baby's first time making smau, use of alcohol courtesy of venti, suggestive topics, miscommunication, slight homophobia, male x male, classical musician meets rock band member kind of thing lmfao, reader is burnt out asf.

notes: there's a written part under the cut!

MASTERLIST | MASTERPOST | »ep 1

Y/n sighs heavily, heart beating erratically in his chest. He just finished answering a very heavy and painful phonecall from his parents—how they expressed their disappointment—but he didn't care, all he could hear during the call was the loud ringing in his ears as he tuned out their words.

He lies on his bed back at his apartment, an arm over his eyes as tears streams down his cheeks, adams apple bobbing up and down as he choke on his own sobs.

He's so tired, very tired.

Facades finally crumbling after years of pretending, it all came crashing down. He's even surprised why he didn't have a mental breakdown during the interview.

Nothing matters anymore.

What's the point of doing something so tiring?

Who even am I at this point?

Just a broken doll who longed for his parents validation to the point of destroying himself to fit their standards.

His eyes swollen, red, and puffy after he cried, the sounds of multiple notifications can be heard from his phone, he read the messages but not bothering to reply, too tired and mentally drained to do so. He then turns off his phone but before he did he caught a glimpse of his notes app, he remembered that one comment he read about making music.

He did think about it.

He did have some lyrics of his own but no melody to it, might as well call it a poem for now.

He wrote these songs a long time ago and he just forgot about it.

He sighs before turning off his phone.

Sometime later, he heard a ding on his phone and followed by the doorbell ringing on his apartment door.

He opens to see a notification from Childe and he smiles softly before eventually and also reluctantly getting out of the comfort of his bed and walked downstairs, opening it to see Childe who immediately embraced him, still holding paper bags filled with food.

"Comrade! We were worried sick and holy fuck are you crying? Omg it's worse than we thought." Childe says with worry as he pats Y/n's head, the shorter male chuckling a bit.

"Yeah, sorry for worrying you guys..." He chuckles as he avoided the ginger's gaze and Childe sighs before entering the apartment and closing the door.

"It's alright comrade, now tell me what exactly happened."

⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧ ─────┈⊰᯽⊱

—KYS [AFFECTIONATELY]

scaramouche x male! reader smau

Author's Notes:

•lowkey scared I might accidentally use a problematic person's face in this smau because I have no knowledge about kpop or Korean industry lmfao

Taglist:

@ozzierenato @wanderchive @endingstar222 @lorizarei @otomegame-oneshots @motherscrustytoenailclippings @carrotcrate @lovessnarii @sukunasrealgf @kunikya @klanxii @st4rcheese @miaouusoup @d0min1qu3 @cookieofwishes @moonplethxra @magica-ren @k1an4a

© 2023 | do not copy, repost or translate my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

#genshin smau #genshin wanderer #genshin impact #𝗞𝗬𝗦 [𝗔𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗬] — 𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗫𝗡 #scaramouche x you #scaramouche fluff #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smau #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche

[kirbylord]

some other thoughts i have about hazbin hotel as they come to my head:

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

i don’t trust alastor one bit but seeing him interacting with characters other than angel dust (namely the overlords) makes me realize how fucking flamboyant he is. keep slaying u aroace serial killer

angel dust is a surprisingly dark character, i didn’t realize how fucked up his relationship with val is. i’m glad he’s finding friendship with husk and that he’s forming a relationship not based on sex

charlie with her hair down charlie with her hair dishevelled love u love u love u

i was unsure of vaggies voice initially but it actually really fits and also shes beautiful

i was NOT expecting to like sir penthouse but he is absolutely adorable and he comes in *peace* (my new fav)

vox has an extremely satisfying voice and color palette and i want to see more of him

im glad that the sex jokes and over abundance of swears died down a bit after episode 2 bc it felt like it was trying to add it in every sentence just bc it’s an “adult show” but now it seems like it’s actually pursuing more adult plot points instead of childish sex and violence jokes

im curious about husk being an overlord in the past and tbh the overlords in general like what’s up with carmilla and the old dude whose name i can’t remember

the SONGS OH MY GOD the singing and animation and lyrics and i love it i love it i need to inject the music into my brain rn

overall review: basically if you like sex jokes and or can get past them to enjoy a fast-paced fun colorful adventure with fucked up characters then watch hazbin hotel ig

#hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel #omg it autocorrected to sir penthouse #im keeping it like that

[sadhours]

ABSENTEE - 1

next chapter • masterlist • my requests are open!!

my new series!!! i promise the finale to wicked sensations is coming soon but in the mean time, enjoy this :) it’ll be mostly Billy centric, not terribly romantic and it takes place before he moves to hawkins

content warnings: minors dni 18+, violence, child abuse (physical and verbal), homophobic slur, cannabis use, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, blow job

word count: 6k+

///.

The rooftop is his favorite place to be. It’s calm, though you can hear the sounds of the city below you. Billy likes the whooshing of the cars on the highway and the drunken chatter of college kids bar hopping. Soothing. Happy sounds. Not like the ones he hears at home. The second he’s through the door, Neil’s berating him for whatever he’s stewed on while Billy was gone. So suffice to say, Billy stays out of the house most days and nights. The grace period from having Max and Susan is over and Neil isn’t hiding who he truly is anymore. As Billy rolls his spliff, he remembers Susan’s reaction the first time his dad had smacked him upside the head in front of her. It was unmoving, her face stoic and a look in her eye like Billy deserved it. He can’t even remember what prompted it, but that was the glorious thing about Neil’s fists, they didn’t need a reason. Billy could have moved the dish soap in the kitchen a centimeter and that would be enough to set his dad off. So why the hell would he be home when he could be anywhere else?

Absent. That’s what Max called him this morning. Just like his mother, he thought. It was true. Billy was numb to it all. He could be there but not really. Auto pilot, doing what’s expected but without reason behind it. He’s floating through life without real meaning to it. Billy hopes he’ll find something worth living for. Shit, most sixteen year olds have no true passion for life but no other kids have Neil as a father. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when his buddy, Reggie changes the cassette in the boombox. He’s supposed to be having a good time, he reminds himself, not thinking about how bad he doesn’t want to be at home. Billy licks up the side of the paper to seal the spliff, reaching for his zippo and lighting it up. He inhales deeply, letting his eyelids close with the motion as the sharp smoke fills his lungs and immediately relaxes him. Fuck, weeds awesome. Reggie’s been on this New Wave kick and Billy can’t stand it, unless he’s stoned. When he’s stoned, all music is pretty rad. So the Joy Division cassette isn’t the worst he’s heard. It fits Billy’s mood pretty well. He won’t admit it, the goddamn hopelessness of the lyrics hit him square in the chest and make him feel a little less alone.

“The girls are taking forever,” Reggie complains and Billy agrees. He could really use a beer, cotton mouth kicking in far too quick for his liking.

With a shrug, Billy peers over the edge to see if he can get a glimpse of you guys. You’ve been dating a couple months at this point, but you’ve been friends for years. Right after Billy’s mom left and Neil uprooted him from the house they shared to an apartment in the heart of the city. Billy misses that house and that apartment. You lived in the complex and he’d met you while he was graffitiing the apartments playground slide with a sharpie. He thinks he was drawing a crude pair of tits but he can’t remember, knows for sure he’d scribbled his favorite swear words at the time all over it. You guys were eleven years old. You came up to him and asked if you could draw something. You drew a cartoonish dick and right then, Billy decided you were gonna be friends.

Then Neil met Susan a few years later when he was fourteen. They moved quick and got married a month after meeting. He hates moving, so he wasn’t thrilled when Neil and Susan insisted on finding a three bedroom house closer to Max’s school. Luckily, Billy didn’t have to change schools but the house was in a cookie cutter suburb instead of the city. Plus, you weren’t a two minute walk away anymore and Neil got to keep him on a shorter leash.

“Beeeer!!!” you and Cindy, Reggie’s girlfriend cheer in unison as you climb up onto the roof through the fire escape.

“Finally,” Reggie grunts, snatching the spliff from Billy’s fingers and extends his opposite hand for a beer.

“Why are you listening to this depressing shit?” Cindy complains as she hands him an Old Milwaukee, “We’re supposed to be partying.”

“Eh, it’s not so bad,” Billy shrugs as you nestle yourself next to him on the edge of the roof, he wraps his arm around you and accepts the beer you offer.

Cindy gapes, “You’re the last person I’d expect that from.”

Billy doesn’t respond. Instead, he cracks his beer open and looks over the edge of the roof again. He sees a handful of girls stumbling beneath and he wonders if he hawked a loogie down could he hit them and what would they do. Saliva fills his mouth in anticipation but he decides against it. They’re pretty and their reactions probably won’t be all that exciting. He’s confident about his aim, though, figures he could land it on one particular girls’ cleavage. He smirks to himself as he brings the can to his lips and averts his eyes to his friends, looking for the spliff. It’s in Reggie’s hands again so Billy leans over and snatches it.

“Stop bogarting, asshat,” he snaps.

“Relax,” Reggie mumbles, “we tried passing it but you’re too busy checking out the chicks on the street.”

“I wasn’t checking them out,” Billy defends himself.

“Sure,” you sigh next to him before standing up and making your way to sit on the torn up couch Reggie and Cindy are lounging on.

Billy rolls his eyes, taking a hit off the spliff before looking down at his watch. The football game is probably almost over and Neil’s most likely dozing to sleep, drunk off a twelve pack. But Billy doesn’t intend to go home for a while, well after midnight. It’s summer after all. He could probably crash at Reggie’s tonight. It’s a good excuse to spend time with him because usually, Billy has to steer clear of him during the school year. Neil would kill him if he’d seen Billy hanging around a black kid. He’d probably kill Reggie too. In the summer it’s safe, but during the school year, his curfew is strict and Neil would rather Billy hang out at home. He brings friends around sometimes, but never Reggie.

You keep giving Billy an angry look. Max’s words this morning ring in his ears. Absent. Billy knows that’s why you’re mad at him too. You’d had the conversation a hundred times this summer alone. He doesn’t put enough effort into the relationship, you told him. Asked him if he wanted to go back to being just friends. But Billy assured you that he didn’t, promised to do better. He’s always being told he isn’t good enough. By everyone in his life. So much so that he’s gone numb to that too. Figures the least he can do is accept that he’s never going to be what people want him to be. It’s easier that way, anyways. Hard to let it get to him if he just doesn’t give a shit anymore.

The thing is, Billy just turned 16 and Neil’s expecting him to work this summer so you’ll just have to deal. He’s excited to get a job, excited to save up his money so he can get a car. He got his license the day after his birthday, figures by the end of August he should have enough to buy a beater car. Something he can fix up real nice. Something that’s his, proof he can accomplish a goal, proof he’s not such a goddamn waste.

He was supposed to be job hunting today but he didn’t. He got up early enough to surf, got home and showered, put on his fanciest button up that was a hand-me-down from his dad and told him he was off to fill out applications. He got stoned at Reggie’s house and the two of them watched TV for hours until Cindy called. Billy can do it tomorrow. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a job. Maybe he can work at the surf shop. The owner likes him a lot. He’s even talked about Billy becoming a team rider. Billy tries not to get his hopes up about that. Neil doesn’t care for surfing, tells Billy it’s a waste of time. Not a skill for the real world. That’s what Billy likes about surfing though. It drags him far away from reality, his mind can finally relax when he’s catching waves.

He smokes the spliff until it’s a burnt roach, tossing it over the roof and stands up. Pacing around, he ignores the conversation the three of you are having as he focuses in on the buzz from the weed. He can feel the air better, feels like he can breathe better than ever before. He stares up at the moon, admiring how the clouds skate passed it. He lays on the floor, hands behind his head and focuses on the craters he can see in the moon. It’s full and he can kind of see a face in the craters, if he tilts his head it also looks like a little girl with a triangle dress.

Suddenly, he feels a hand on his stomach and he turns to see you, sitting beside him with a curious smile. He returns it with lopsided one of his own.

“Get bored of ‘em?” he asks, softly.

You turn to look at Reggie and Cindy, his eyes follow to see the couple making out.

“Ah,” he purses his lips, “It’s that portion of the party, is it?”

You nod and Billy pats his hips, signaling you to climb into his lap. Once you do, he’s wrapping a hand around your neck and luring you down, lips hovering. You feel his teeth as he smiles before placing a tentative kiss to your lips. It starts slow, lazy from his dazed, stoned state. Billy prefers kissing when he’s high, doesn’t much care for it when he’s sober. But for some reason, in this altered state, it doesn’t feel as gross to him. Billy never tells you he doesn’t like kissing or that he thinks it’s kind of disgusting. When he’s horny enough, it’s not gross and he’ll lick into your mouth all sloppy as long as his dicks inside you. It’s not his foreplay though.

He can hear Reggie grunting and groaning. He doesn’t have to look over to know Cindy’s going down on him. She’s loud about it and Billy doesn’t admit that it turns him on. Billy thinks it must turn you on too because you start grinding your hips against his. Plus, he figures Reggie and Cindy won’t care much if they started it in the first place. Billy always feels a bit strange about the lack of boundaries, the fact that the four of you mess around in front of each other. Figures that you all get it when you can and it’s not often you guys are secluded enough to pull it off.

Billy grabs your hair to pull you away, moving his hands to undo his belt and you get the hint, lifting yourself up just enough to get your underwear off and Billy’s jeans and briefs down to his knees. You hold your skirt up, looking down at his pulsing erection settled against his stomach. He wraps his fingers around the base and spits onto his other hand, smearing it all over the head before lining it up with your entrance. You gasp when you feel him prodding, eyebrows knit together in desperation and Billy loves that. Feels like he’s done something good to make you want him so badly. You slowly lower yourself until he bottoms out and Billy grunts softly, pressing his palms to yours and lacing your fingers. It’s sweet, makes your whole body fill with adoration for him. His eyes are barely open, eyelids looking heavy while his mouth hangs open just enough for you to see his tongue pressing to his bottom lip. A roll of your hips and his tongue rolls against his bottom lip, a lewd moan tumbling out of him that has your toes curling in your shoes. Through all the bullshit he seems to drag you through, you wouldn’t ever give this up. He gets you fired up like no one else could. Billy’s a literal wet dream come to life and you have the fucking privilege of being with him. The slight curve of his cock is practically designed to fit you perfectly, hooking just right to nail that wonderful, spongy part inside of you. But you think you could cum just from looking at him, sometimes. Or hearing his voice.

You bend down to whisper in his ear, “You feel so good.”

He lets go of your hands to wrap his arms around your middle, pulling your bodies flush as he groans breathy against your ear. You press gentle kisses along his jaw, bouncing in his lap over and over. He snakes his hands up your shirt and scratches down your back, arching his own which only buries him deeper inside of you. Deep enough he hits your cervix and you yelp. Billy chuckles softly before easing up, his hands steadying at your hips.

“M’sorry,” he mumbles against the shell of your ear.

“It’s okay,” you reply softly, pulling back to look down at his face. He looks fucked out, totally blissful and all the stress and worry usually living there is gone. It makes your insides turn. You’d give absolutely anything to do that for him all the time. He starts thrusting his hips up at you, his hands holding your hips still so he can take control. He does it whenever he’s close and you’re almost there too so you keep staring down at his face, trying to commit it to memory like you haven’t seen it a hundred times, like you don’t see his face whenever you close your eyes.

Billy’s eyes open slowly and he maintains eye contact with you, his mouth open while pants and soft moans flood out of it. Just the look and sound of him is enough and your orgasm comes crashing through you.

“Billy,” you gasp, thighs shaking against his hips while you involuntarily hump against him.

He smiles then, all lips and no teeth but looking satisfied. You don’t get the opportunity to completely ride through it, he pulls out of you and you’re quick to move down and take his cock in your mouth, eyes wide as you look up at him. He gives a pathetic thrust and clenches his teeth, squeezing his eyes closed as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and pull back, licking up the last of it that dribbles out of his slit. He whimpers and it sends another wave of arousal to your center.

With a sigh, he pulls his pants back on and hands you your discarded panties. You awkwardly pull them back on and reach your hand out to help your boyfriend back up. Billy kisses you softly before wandering over to the sixer and pulling another beer from it. He stands taller now, relaxed and you’re relieved you can help him in some way. Even if it seems like only sex.

Billy and Reggie share a look before the two of them burst out into giggles, Cindy rolls her eyes but immediately shoots you a pleased look. She enjoys it and so do you. Billy makes his way back to the edge of the rooftop, sitting down and lighting up a cigarette. He keeps peering over and it’s making you nervous. You don’t know what he’s thinking but sometimes you worry Billy imagines jumping off. What you don’t expect is to hear the sound of him hawking up a loogie.

“Billy,” you warn, standing up.

Reggie’s standing up with you but with excitement as he stumbles over and peers down with Billy.

Billy spits down and you hear a man from below shouting.

“Billy! Fucking hell,” you scold but your boyfriend is in a laughing fit, holding his gut as the careless sound rips through him.

Absent.

“I’m gonna beat your fucking face in!” the guy from the street shouts up at him.

“I’d like to see you try!” Billy replies.

“Then get your ass down here!”

Billy’s up to his feet, the excitement of violence bubbling through him as he makes his way to the fire escape. He ignores the protests from you and his friends, though the three of you follow him down. Billy chugs the rest of his beer once he’s on the ground, tossing the empty can and puffing his chest up as he stalks over to the guy.

Billy’s in shape, he spends a lot of time lifting weights but that’s not what makes him dangerous. It’s the fact that he doesn’t really give a shit and all the pent up anger from the abuse he faces. The guy he nailed with his phlegm is bigger but Billy doesn’t seem scared. He yells out, fists clenched tight at his sides as they meet face to face. Billy’s grinning wide, he always looks so happy when he’s about to get in a fight. It fucking worries you.

The guy swings first but Billy dodges it and then his fist is connecting with the dudes jaw with a horrific pop. The guy reels, like he wasn’t expecting so much power behind a teenagers fist. He stumbles but is back quick, socking Billy in the face and you wince, knowing that he’ll have one helluva shiner.

Billy laughs, “Is that all you got, fucker?”

Another punch and the guys on the ground but Billy’s on him in an instant, delivering blow after blow to the guys face before Reggie’s pulling him off.

“Fuck!” he screams out, eyes lit up with something that terrifies you. He enjoys this too much. You reach for his wrist and pull, dragging him along as the four of you run down the block. The dudes knocked out but his friends chase after you guys. They’re not fast enough and you lose them after cutting through an alley and ending up in a deserted plot of land. It’s mostly dirt but the occasional construction debris. There used to be a motel here but it’s got plans to become yet another parking lot. Billy screams out again, cheeks split with a devious smile.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” you yell at him, pushing against his chest. He turns to you with that eerie smile and you notice his nose is bleeding.

“That was fucking rad, darling,” he gushes, “I totally knocked his fucking lights out!”

“It wasn’t rad!” you argue, “God damn you’re such a fucking child sometimes!”

Billy laughs, but it’s laced with venom, “And you’re fucking boring.”

The word hits you hard, breaking your heart in an instant. You sniffle, pissed off with yourself that you’re crying so easily. Billy could be mean, to everyone around him. You knew that when you started dating. But it still hurts. You wanted to be an exception to that, but you realize how foolish that was.

“You’re fucking crying?” he scoffs, “Jesus Christ.”

You turn on your heel and start walking, Cindy me Reggie are quick to follow you but when you’re a block away and you turn back, Billy’s not following you. He’s wandered in the other direction.

///.

Billy finds the spare key under the mat and tries his absolute best to keep quiet as he unlocks the door. Susan should’ve got his dad to bed by this hour but he doesn’t want to risk it. He slowly opens the door, stepping inside and unzipping his boots before taking them off and leaving them by the door. He peers into the living room. Shit. Neil isn’t in bed. It’s nearly two a.m., he and Susan must’ve had an argument. Billy closes the door as quietly as he can before turning the deadbolt. He tiptoes to his room, turning the knob cautiously. Once he’s inside, he flicks the light on and starts to undress. He opens his closet and grabs out a pair of grey sweats to change into. As he’s changing, he looks into the mirror, seeing the dried blood under his nose and the beginnings of a gnarly bruise under both eyes. He presses his thumb to the bridge of his nose and hisses. It’s not broken but fuck, it hurts. He sighs. He needs to clean it up. Billy desperately needs a shower but it’s too late. He’d definitely wake his dad.

Carefully, he sneaks out of his room and into the hallway bathroom. He flicks the light on and gets a better look at his face. Billy barely recognizes himself. It’s a problem he’s been having for years. He knows that’s his face staring back at him but he can’t help but feeling like he doesn’t know his reflection. Like the icy blue eyes staring back at him belong to a stranger. He quietly cleans the blood from under his nose but when he opens the medicine cabinet to grab his toothbrush, a slew of pill bottles and soaps fall out of it and land into the sink with a loud clatter. Max had probably haphazardly shoved her things inside. Billy closes his eyes and shuts off the light, steadying his breathing and tries to hear for a sign that he’s woken his father up.

Footsteps, loud ones clamber up the hallway and Billy braces himself. He hates this house, there’s no lock on the bathroom. There’s no locks on any doors besides the master bedroom. The door swings open and the light is switched on. Billy’s met with the angry face of his father.

“What in gods name are you doing at this hour?” Neil asks, tone cloaked in outrage. “Did you just get home?”

“No sir,” Billy replies, voice cracking.

Neil surveys his face, “You reek of pot, boy.”

Billy doesn’t respond to that, just stares blankly at his domineering father. There’s no point. He definitely smells like weed and no matter what he’d say, the next row of actions is a guarantee. Neil shoves him into the towel rack, the edge of it nicks Billy’s bare back and he can feel the blood drip down. He keeps still, looking stoically up at his dad. Neil backhands him, Billy’s face turns with the force of it and Neil grabs his throat, shoving him harder into the rack which just scraps Billy’s back up more.

“You have no regard for anyone but yourself. We’ve talked about this, huh? Respect and responsibility. Simple shit, but you’re too fucking stupid or selfish to learn,” Neil hisses.

His fathers grip tightens just enough where Billy struggles to breath but he knows his dad’s too pussy to actually kill him. He chokes out a sob, can’t help himself even if he knows it’ll only piss Neil off more. Another smack to the face, another shove into the rack and Neil knees him in the stomach.

“You’re crying? You goddamn pussy. Man up!”

From the ground, Billy seethes. He knows this will seal his fate and he’ll be forced into makeshift solitary confinement but he doesn’t give a fuck. He’s overflowing with hatred for the man towering over him.

“Fuck you,” he says behind clenched teeth.

Neil kicks him once more before grabbing a fistful of Billy’s curls and pulling him back to his feet. His dad looks him square in the face before head butting him. The sharp jolt of pain rings through him, his eyebrow feels hot and then Billy feels blood before he sees it when it drips into his eye. Neil drags him by his hair, through the hall and kicks Billy’s door open, the wood slamming into the plaster of the wall and no doubt leaving a hole from the doorknob. He shoves his son into the room.

“You’re goddamn worthless. I give and give but you refuse to fucking be respectful. You’re grounded, I’ll let you out when I can look at you again. Goddamn faggot,” he spits and slams the door back closed, Billy can hear as he fastens the chain lock he’s drilled into the outside of Billy’s door.

Billy holds his sobs, reaching for whatever material is closest to him on the floor and holds the dirty t-shirt to the split in his eyebrow. He falls asleep on the floor like that.

When he wakes up, the t-shirt has fused to his face with the dried blood and he’s reminded of the beating as he peels it off. Except it opens the wound back up and he groans, pressing a clean part of the shirt back to it. His heads pounding, his whole body aches. As he stands up to look in the mirror, he sees the bruising taking place on his stomach and ribs. His face is bruised but not from his dad. He’s too scared to look at his eyebrow, the pulsing pain and blood tells him he definitely needs stitches and he’ll be ending up with a gnarly scar instead. He peers out of his window to see Neil’s truck and Susan’s station wagon aren’t in the driveway but he can hear someone’s out in the living room. His throat burns and his mouth feels like it’s got cotton in it. Glancing around the room, he sees he’s got no water stashed away. Max.

Billy sighs, trudging over to the door and opening it as much as the chain lock will allow.

“Max,” he calls out, voice hoarse and fucking pathetic but his step sister is quick to run down the hall. Billy can see her red hair flying before he can see her blue eyes looking up at him. “Water, can you get me some water?”

She nods and disappears. Billy lays on his bed, closing his eyes while he waits. He hears the stool slam against the floor and he sits up, waiting for Max to climb up it so she can reach the lock. Once she does, she scoots the stool again and opens the door. She hands him the tall glass of water and he gulps it down in record time. He extends it out to her, “More?”

Max nods but she takes longer to return this time. Billy sees why when she’s holding the first aid kid they store under the bathroom sink. Billy gives her a half-hearted smile, she can be a little shit but she does care. It makes Billy feel weird, his initial instinct is to push her away and say he’s fine but he doesn’t. He lets her set the first aid kit on his bed and open it, she pulls out the peroxide and grabs the shirt from his face. She bunches it up against his eye and pours the peroxide on the wound on his eyebrow. It tingles but the sting is dull. She pats it dry before digging through the box for butterfly bandages. They stay silent as she dresses the wound. She’s a smart little fucker, Billy hadn’t even thought about asking for the first aid kit. She stands back and puts her finger against her chin, checking over her work before nodding to herself.

“Quick,” she says, “Use the bathroom before they get home.”

Billy nods, he hadn’t thought of that either. He stands and puts his hand on the top of her head, rustling her hair up. “Thanks, kiddo,” he mumbles before trudging into the bathroom.

As he steps inside, the events from last night flash around in his head but he pushes them away. He lifts the lid on the toilet and relieves himself. When he’s washing his hands he gets a good look at his reflection in the fluorescent lighting. He looks like shit. He aches for a shower but that’s too risky plus he’s not looking forward to the cuts on his back stinging from the water. He dries his hands and makes his way back to his room, where Max is waiting outside the door. Once he’s inside, he can hear her fastening the lock back up and jumping off the stool. Billy decides to tidy his room while he’s stuck in here, pressing play on his stereo so he can drown his thoughts in heavy guitar riffs and Vince Niel’s voice. After his rooms all clean, he shuts off the stereo and looks for a book to read to pass the time. He has no idea how long he’ll be trapped in here. Sometimes it’s a day, sometimes it’s a week.

///.

You haven’t heard from Billy in two days. It’s been two days since your little fight in the field and you’re getting worried. Billy was pretty adamant about you not coming over unannounced but the landline has been giving you nothing but a busy tone every time you try to call. You’re out of options and that’s why you take the bus out into the suburb and walk to his place. Neil’s truck is outside, along with his stepmoms car but you’re determined to check on him.

The wood of the door is warm on your knuckles as you scrap against it. Thankfully, Susan answers the door but her face falls and he looks back into the house before meeting your eyes.

“Billy’s not here,” she says.

“Where is he? I haven’t heard from him in a couple of days,” you reply, shoving your hands in your pockets.

“He’s out looking for a job,” it’s a lie. You can see it on her face. Susan’s a horrible liar, just like Max is.

You chew on your bottom lip before trying your luck, “Bummer. He must be mad at me still. Could I use your bathroom? Long bus ride out here.”

Susan heaves a sigh before stepping back and letting you inside, “Be quick.”

“Course,” you say and start making the descent down the hall.

“He’s not here!” Neil yells after you which causes you to stop, the sound of his voice always makes your skin crawl.

“I know, just using the bathroom,” you reply, eyes turning to Billy’s bedroom door in the hallway. The chain lock is fastened and your heart sinks into your stomach. You know Billy’s been trapped in there for days. He’s never told you this happens to him but when you’d noticed the lock, you connected the dots.

You lock yourself in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror as you try to somehow telepathically communicate with your boyfriend. You so desperately want to call CPS on Neil but the first time Billy admitted his dad hit him, he made you promise and swear that you wouldn’t. Billy assured you he could handle it, that he didn’t want to be stuck in the foster system. I only have 5 more years, you remember him telling you. With a sigh, you finally sit down on the toilet and relieve yourself. It was a long bus ride. After washing your hands, you make your escape.

“Nice to see you, Mr. Hargrove,” you call out to Neil, hoping Billy can hear you and know you’re here.

“Whatever,” Neil mumbles with a wave of his hand.

///.

Once it’s midnight, you figure it’s safe and you stalk over to the window with the black grocery bag tucked tight against your side. The windows have bars on them, you’ve overheard Susan calling them decorative but they’re definitely a safety precaution, to ward off potential burglars. You can’t help but think about the way they make Billy’s room just that much more of a prison. God, if you could save him from this shit you would. This is the least you could do.

The bars are far enough apart that you can reach your arm through it. You quietly knock against it and step back to wait for your boyfriend to appear behind the sheet he uses as a curtain.

Billy snakes himself between the sheet and the window, his eyebrow is slit open and there’s some gnarly bruising under his eyes. You give him a sympathetic smile, lifting the plastic bag. Billy opens the window slowly, careful not to make too much noise.

“Hey, little lady,” he purrs, laying the charm on thick even though he’s a goddamn prisoner in his own fucking house. “What’re you doing here?”

You smile at him, you’ve found it’s best if you act like everything’s normal, “Wanted to give you some goodies and see your face. I miss you.”

“I miss you,” he reaches out and pokes your nose. “Whatcha get me?”

Peeking into the bag, you pull out the Mickey’s 40 you’d purchased and hand it over. Billy moans at the can, grinning from ear to ear. Next you hand him a pack of Marlboro Reds and he gives you another moan.

“Fuck, I could marry you,” he takes the pack and rips it open, lighting a smoke immediately.

You bite your lip, “Do it.”

He chuckles, leaning his forehead against the metal bars, “Maybe one day I will. Then you’ll really be sorry.”

You giggle softly and pull out a pack of sour candies for him. He places them down on his floor and smiles at you, “Think we could manage a kiss through these?” his fingers tapping against the bars.

“We could try,” you suggest, stepping closer and smiling up at him.

You manage to touch your lips to his but it’s wildly uncomfortable and you both strain your lips to do it. Billy sits on the sill and reaches his hand out to hold yours.

“Sorry about the other night… I was being a dickhead but hey,” he motions to his face, “got my punishment for it.”

“Billy,” you squeeze his hand, “You didn’t deserve that. You never do… I don’t even care about the dumb fight we had.”

He shrugs but moves his hand to your chin, stroking his thumb against it, “It’s nothing new. I shouldn’t have come home that night but ya know, I didn’t know where else to go.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have ran off like that…”

“It’s cool, I’ll probably get a sick ass scar from this one,” he points to his eyebrow.

You shake your head but smile at him.

“You really gave it to my old man today,” he grins.

You cackle, “Did I?”

“Oh, yeah! I think the kindness kills him more than if you were to ignore him. How’d you get into the house, though?” he takes a long drag from his smoke before handing it over.

You take it and smile, “I told Susan I had to pee.”

“Oh!” his eyes widen and he disappears behind the sheet again, only to reappear with a Gatorade bottle full of what you can only assume is piss. “I know it’s gross but could you uh, dump this for me?”

You take it from him carefully and hand him back the cigarette, “Why don’t you just piss out the window, Billy?”

“In broad daylight? I can’t,” he says, sounding ashamed as you unscrew the cap and dump the bottle out into the bushes next to you. You screw the lid back on and hand it back through the bars.

“I fucking hate your dad,” you mumble.

“You and me both, babe,” he goes back behind the curtain to put the bottle back. When he returns, he’s got a folded up piece of paper and he passes it to you. “I drew ya something, don’t look at it until you’re far away from me.”

You giggle and slide it into your back pocket, “Can we try another one of those kisses?”

Billy chuckles, nods and you guys attempt it again. When he pulls back, he wiggles his eyebrows, “You could probably suck my dick through here.”

“You wanna attempt that but you won’t pee out the window,” you raise an eyebrow but smile back at him. “I’m not gonna blow you through your window. Nice try though.”

Billy laughs and pokes your nose, “I better get to bed. I’m sure I’ll be released soon enough and I can maybe take you out or something.”

“That sounds nice,” you smile warmly at him.

“A thank you for the necessities,” he holds up the beer and pack of smokes.

I’d do anything for you, you want to say but it dies in your throat. Billy doesn’t really get mushy with you so you’ve been scared to tell him just how infatuated with him you are. Sometimes he’s like a skittish dog and you feel you haven’t completely earned his trust yet.

“Stay safe, Billy.”

“Eh, that’s no fun. See ya later, little lady,” he smirks with the pet name before closing his window.

As you begin your journey down the street, you remember the paper folded up in your pocket and you quickly pull it out. Unfolding it, you see lines but you’re confused. Once it’s completely unfolded you see a crude drawing of a penis. Actually, it looks like Billy’s laid his dick on the paper and traced around it. It’s the most ridiculous and hilarious thing you’ve ever seen and you can’t help the roar of giggles erupting from your chest. The image of him so utterly bored while he’s locked away and getting the idea to trace his hard dick against the paper is the funniest thing in the world to you. God, you adore him.

#billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove angst #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove smut #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove

[matthewkniesys]

i know it won't work - trevor zegras

summary: You let go of Trevor but why can't he let go of you? You know it won't work so why can't he see that? You're only trying to save each other from more heartbreak than necessary. You just want him to be happy.

a/n: this is the second fic in my good riddance by gracie abrams fic series. you don't have to read the first one for this to make sense. so this is my first song fic so please be nice. idk if i did it right. everything in bold is the song lyrics. i recommend listening to the song but you don't have to. i really do love this fic so hopefully yall will too🫶

pairing: trevor zegras x gn!reader

warnings: angsty and some swearing

good riddance fic series

The last year has been hard for you. Nobody ever told you how hard graduating highschool would be. Everyone paints graduating as this big celebration. You're never warned of the hard choices you’ll have to make and the people you’ll lose. The one person you never expected to lose was your childhood best friend and boyfriend of 3 years, Trevor Zegras. And you could never have predicted that you would be the one walking away. Not him.

I left you there 

Heard you keep the extra closet empty

In case this year I come back and stay throughout my 20s

Your body is drained of any energy. Moving into your dorm room has sucked any will to do anything for the rest of the day out of your body. You’re excited for the new chapter that University will bring to your life but you’re also mourning the loss of the life you had before. You feel like a different person since everything in your life did a complete 180 a few months ago. 

Leaving Trevor was probably the hardest thing you’d ever done. You didn’t just lose your boyfriend that day, you also lost your best friend. It was what needed to happen though. It was this one day when he made a comment about how he would follow you anywhere and give up hockey in a heartbeat that made you freak out. You had to cut ties. Trevor loved you in an all consuming way. You loved him in a nostalgic kind of way. In the way that you two had been best friends forever. You loved him but slowly you were realizing it wasn’t in that same romantic way his love for you was. It was not purely but more platonic. You couldn’t ever see yourself marrying him and so even though it hurt both of you, leaving was the right decision. If only Trevor could understand that. 

Picking up your phone to check social media, you see you’ve got a missed call from a friend, well she’s probably your best friend now, since you walked away from Trevor. You choose her number from your recent contacts and let it ring until she picks up.

“Hey, y/n, how are you? Are you all settled in?”

“I’m good. It was a real tight fit, to get everything in the dorm but it worked out. How about you? How’s your dorm? I can’t believe we are literally on the opposite side of the country now.”

Your friend laughs, “ Yeah, it was quite the tight fit here too. The dorms are tiny. But I’m doing good. I’m excited for classes to start.”

You pause for a second, wanting to ask the question that’s been burning in the back of your mind for weeks now. You wanted to know how Trevor was. Trevor and your friend had always been close. When you walked away from Trevor you didn’t want them to have to end their friendship so they still hang out.

Stuttering, you ask,” Hey, um how’s Trev doing?”

“Are you sure you really wanna know?” Yes, you are sure. At this point you feel like you need it as much as you need the air you breathe. You can guess he probably isn’t doing great, you aren’t either but you need to hear it from someone who knows.

“Yes, I do.”

“Okay, well I’m gonna be honest with you.” She pauses. “He’s fucked up over you. You walking away from him really came out of the blue. He blames himself. He thinks he did something wrong.” Hearing that he thinks it’s his fault breaks your heart. All he did was love you with all of himself and you couldn’t reciprocate that.

“I-fuck. Why couldn’t I just love him back? It’s what he deserved and I couldn’t give it to him.”

“Y/n, it’s okay. In the long run this will be better. At least neither of you will be stuck in a shitty relationship. But if I’m being completely honest I think Trevor still thinks you’re gonna come back. Like you’re gonna realize you made a mistake and change your mind. You probably don’t wanna hear this but he keeps the extra closet empty. You know, just in case you decide to come back and stay for good.”

Hearing that, shatters your heart into a million pieces.

What if I won’t?

How am I supposed to put that gently?

And down the road

You will love me until you resent me

You talk for a few more minutes but then you hang up, your heart wasn’t really in it and you’re emotionally exhausted. You feel as if your body is about to combust. Sighing, you toss your phone on the bed and flop back, shutting your eyes and letting your thoughts consume you. 

You shouldn’t go back to Trevor. It wouldn’t be fair to you or him. It would only cause more pain than it’s worth. But maybe a little part of you still wants to. You miss him. There is history there that can’t just be erased. 

You feel like you need to tell Trevor that you really meant it. He can’t keep holding out for you. He needs to live his life. He’s at BU this year and next year he’ll be in the NHL. All you want is for him to be happy. You want him to go out and kiss other people and to find the person of his dreams but instead he’s hung up on you. 

If he stays hung up on you, if he can’t move on he’ll eventually start to hate you. He’ll love you so much that it’ll turn into resentment if it hasn’t already. And even though you broke his heart you really, really don’t want him to resent you. You couldn’t stand it. He still means the most to you.

I’ve had the thought

Tried to work it out through anxious pacing

What if I’m not

Worth the time and breath I know you’re saving?

Despite being tired down to your bones, you slept horribly that night. Knowing that Trevor might be up at this very moment, not being able to sleep because of what you did is killing you. You aren’t worth this much thought or time. He could have anyone. Any kind, beautiful person that he wants. Someone who can give him everything but instead he’s agonizing over you. For fucks sakes he even has a closet empty just for you. He must really believe you’re coming back.

It’s your first night sleeping in your dorm and that isn’t helping either. You look over at your roommate who is peacefully sleeping, wishing you could be doing the same. You grab a water bottle and chug half of it trying to gain your bearings. Your mind is running wild and you need to do something. 

You start pacing back and forth, in your tiny dorm room. You really hope your roommate doesn’t wake up because you don’t need someone you barely know thinking you’re crazy.

You just want Trevor to just move on. To not let you live rent free in his mind. You aren’t even worth it. You’ve seen how many other girls are after him. He could have any of them. You aren’t worth it.  He’s saving too much for you and he needs to let it go.

But it’s a lot

All the shine of half a decade fading

The whole facade

Seemed to fall apart, it’s complicated

You’ve known Trevor for your whole life and liked him for 5 of those years. Until it just kinda stopped. You stopped wanting him so much romantically and you just wanted to go back to being best friends. Part of you, a big part, wished you had never even dated in the first place. 

A few months before graduating everything started falling apart with Trevor. It stopped feeling right, your relationship. It stopped feeling like where you wanted to be. You hoped it would pass but it didn’t. The feeling kept growing and growing until it felt like there was just a huge hole in your chest where something wasn’t quite right. Where something was wrong.

And part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen

I hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different

'Cause part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

Weeks fly by but it doesn’t really get that much easier. You’re happy and you’re making friends but you still miss Trevor. And you’ve gathered from talking to hometown friends that still talk to him, that Trevor isn’t really doing any better. You can’t get past the fact that you’re the one making him hurt like that.

It’s completely sudden. You aren’t expecting it. There’s no text, no build up. Just one day out of the blue he calls. You don’t want to pick up. It’s only gonna lead to false hope for him that you want to get back together and false hope for you that he wants to simply just be best friends again. But you can’t help it, you pick up the phone and answer.

“Y/n,” Trevor says the moment you pick up, sounding a little breathless.

“Um, hey Trev.” You don’t know what else to say so you leave it at that.

You hear Trevor mumble, “Oh fuck, there’s no way i can do this.” and then he starts talking.

“Y/n, please, please tell me what I did wrong so I can fix this. I miss you. You’re my best friend and the love of my life. I need you.”

Fuck, you won’t get through this. You can’t stand to talk to Trevor, knowing you both feel completely different. And it’s the fact that he thinks it’s his fault. That he did something wrong.

You desperately wanted to tell Trevor that you would come back, that it could be like old times but you can’t. It would be a lie. It could never be the same ever again. 

A part of you wants to go back and just say fuck it. You want your friendship back so badly that you’re willing to fake the romantic part. Maybe you’ll eventually for real fall back in love with him. It’s possible, but you know that’s not right. It won’t work like that.

“Trevor, you didn’t do a single thing wrong. It just wasn’t working. It wasn’t meant to be forever. I have so much love for you still but not in the same way that you do. We can’t keep doing this to each other. We need to get past this. Hanging up the phone was hard. Sitting with your thoughts after was harder, but you’ll get through it. You did the right thing.

Why won't you try moving on for once? That might make it easy

I know we cut all the ties but you're never really leaving

And part of me wants you back, but

I know it won't work like that, huh?

In the weeks that follow you don’t hear anything from Trevor. Until mid November and then everything starts seeping back in.

First it’s a text. A simple, hey, how are you? And you know you shouldn’t respond so you don’t. And then it’s pleading. It’s text saying we need to talk or I miss you. And you almost respond to those because you can’t bear to think that you are causing Trevor so much pain. But again you hold out and don’t respond. It’s when he starts picking up the phone and calling that you can’t stop yourself.

He called you once, you didn’t pick up. He called you a second time, and still you restrained yourself, but the third time was when everything went crashing down.

You had been having a really shitty day to start off with and you were already in the worst of your feelings, so when Trevor called it’s like it breaks a dam inside of you. A wall that had been holding strong but was now toppling over.

You pick up the phone and for a minute it’s just dead silence. You hear Trevor’s breathing so you know he’s there but he hasn’t said anything. So you decide to speak first.

“Trev, I thought we agreed to cut ties. We can’t keep doing this. You need to move on. This isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

“ Y/n, you’re the one who said we should cut ties, I never agreed. I need you in my life. I miss you.” The desperation in Trevor’s voice makes you want to cry. It makes you feel as if someone took a jagged piece of glass and cut open the wound that was slowly starting to heal. The wound that you inflicted by walking away. A part of you still wants him. But you can’t. You just can’t. It isn’t possible.

I'll open up

I'm thinking everything you wish I wasn't

The call was tough

But you're better off, I'm being honest

You take a deep breath. You need to give Trevor the closure he needs and then leave for good. You need to explicitly say that this won’t work. You need to tell him without any fancy words that he needs to accept that you're not the one for him.

“Trevor,” you plead, needing him to listen, “You need to walk away. I’ve been trying to for months now but you keep pulling me back in. I’ve already moved on but you’re the one who won’t let me leave. We were what we were but we can’t be that anymore. I’m not the same person I was 3 years ago and you aren’t either. Let me go and in the long run we’ll save each other a ton of hurt. I love you but this won’t work. You have to let go. I’m gonna hang up and you aren’t gonna call me again.” You pause, catching your breath. “I wish you nothing but the best. Goodbye, Trev.

You sit in silence for a moment. It was hard. You have tried telling him goodbye before but this felt much more final. After all the other times you tried saying goodbye to Trevor, you still felt as if there was more to the story before it would be over. You hoped the story was over now. It was the best thing for you and for Trevor.

So won’t you stop

Holding out for me when I don’t want it

Just brush me off

I’m your ghost right now, your house is haunted

It took all of five minutes for Trevor to call you again. 5 fucking minutes. God, all you want at this point is for Trevor to move on. To realize this is the best thing that could’ve happened. You don’t pick up. You need to set some boundaries. You can’t keep picking up the phone when you don’t wanna talk. He needs to just brush you off and move on.

But he calls 4 more times that night. And you’re scared it won’t stop. So you pick up. Of course you do. It’s that little part of you that still wants him back that makes you.

“Trevor, you need to stop. I’m sorry but we can’t. I don’t know how many times you want me to say this. I know this won’t work the way you want it to or at all. So please I’m begging you stop. Put both of us out of our misery. You start moving on so I can finish letting go. Trevor, don’t call me again or I will block your number. I don’t want to because for some reason it just feels wrong. But I will. Goodbye, Trev.”

You hang up and this time you know. It’s final. Trevor won’t call again. You’re sad but more than that you’re relieved. You can finally start living again.

It’s as if for these past months you’ve been this ghost for Trevor. One that would constantly follow him. You were haunting him and know you’re finally being set free.

I know it won't work like that, huh?

It’s been years now. You don’t think about it often but every once in a while Trevor will pop into your mind. You’re happy. You really are. And from what you see on social media, Trevor is too. 

You try not to dwell on it but sometimes you think about what might have been. What might have happened if you had gone back to Trevor. And honestly you aren’t sure. Maybe everything would’ve worked out and the two of you would be happily together right now. Or maybe it would’ve ended up being exactly what you thought would happen if you went back. 

You truly believe you made the right decision in letting Trevor go. You knew it wouldn’t work the way he was envisioning. And hopefully you spared the both of you a lot of heartache.

You’re happy right now. That’s what matters. You and Trevor don’t talk much except for the occasional birthday message but maybe that was how it was supposed to be.  You knew it wouldn’t work like that and you made the right decision, for you and for Trevor. You had and still have so much love for him and that’s all it’ll ever be. And you’re okay with that. You really are.

thanks for reading 🫶

good riddance fic series

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[rensimps]

Wrong Number {L.F, SKZ}

chapter 8

summary: when texting your friends new number turns to you making friends with a memelord and his friends.

warnings: fluff, crack, very bad sense of humor, angst if you squint, a lot of swearing

word count: 756

It's been a few weeks since you and Jackson had started working with the 3 "small producers", and honestly you really liked working with them. they are respectful and honest, speaking out on things that should be changed and what they think could be done better and you and Jackson listened.

For the most part the song you 5 have been working on is complete, Chris had messaged you about lyrics and you both sent ideas to eachother, asking opinions and what should be added. you had already finished writing the lyrics you both worked on and now all you had to do was sing and rap your parts. your part was the chorus where you would do a fast rap and then transition to singing, Chris wanted your sing part to be strong and rough but confident as well as it fit with the lyrics. your singing voice was mostly breathy and light but on song currently you opted for a more growl type (yknow, like ado?).

As for Chris and the other 2, you had no idea where they'd put their parts in but you trusted them enough. Jackson on the other hand, worked with Chris and Seungheon on the song and the beat. When you first listened to the finish product you honestly thought it could fit in with 3racha well with Jacksons vibes scattered on it but you let the thought pass by.

★彡

Today was the last day before holidays from uni for you and your friends. you all had decided to crash at Jacksons place to have fun and drink in celebration of finishing all your tests.

Jackson was currently sat on a bean bag infront of his TV playing some games with Lexis as you and Jiyeon started on dinner for the evening. You helped Jiyeon with most of it, dinner being Kimchi Jjigae, some bulgogi with various side dishes, a side of tofu to dip into the jjigae if they wanted to and some fish cakes. You brought out a few plates and placed them on the coffee table infront of the couch and called everyone in for food. Jiyeon came striding in with a cooler which you assumed was full of alcohol. She picked some stuff to start with, like beer, soju and makgeolli. you snatched the makgeolli before anyone else could and lexis whined out, something about it being her favorite but you just stuck out your tongue at her.

As you all sat and chatted for a while, your phone dinged a few times. you took your phone and saw a message from lix, your friend you had been talking to for a few months, you two had gotten close in the time you had been messaging, often playing games with eachother like genshin or fortnite, which you definitely carried. You opened your phone to see what he sent.

Mona Lixa: Y/NNNN WANNA PLAY SOME GAMES? I FINISHED MY SCHEDULE FINALLY

sent 21;38

You laughed at how excited he seemed, and sent a reply back with some memes

Y/N: can't rn, I'm having dinner w my friends tonight bc we finished our exams, later maybe if you're still up?

sent 21;40

Mona Lixa: boohh, fine ig I can wait, have fun! I'm gonna beat you this time frfr

sent 21;42

You laughed at his message and liked it before closing your phone, only looking up when Jiyeon called your name.

"y/n, you've been laughing your phone a whole lot lately, did you get a boyfriend? are you cheating on me?" Jiyeon said in faux of fence but also wriggling her eyebrows at you. You scoffed at her but smiled nonetheless and pushed her shoulder slightly. "as if, it's just a friend of mine, he's been whining about how I can't play games with him right now."

"oooooh what friend? I didn't know you had friends other than us" lexis teased, pointed her chopsticks at you accusingly. "yah! fuck you mean other than you! I have plenty of friends" you pouted "he's the person that I texted when Jackson gave me the wrong number, he's actually funny unlike you guys" you smirked as everyone gasp at what you said. they all jumped up and started throwing pillows at you as you screamed and laughed the night away.

★彡

After a few hours at Jacksons place you went back to your apartment. You walked in, took off your shoes, and immediately head to your fridge to drink a bottle of water and hangover supplements to not feel like death in the morning. as you finished drinking the water your phone dinged again, this time a message from Chris.

"Chris": Hey, finished the song, well send it to you but we have to tell you guys something first.

sent 01;23

you furrowed your eyebrows at the cryptic messaged, heading to your bedroom and laid down before replying.

Y/N: That's great! I'll message Jackson to hop on to the group chat then

sent 01;28

★彡

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