#and he tries to talk to will about it but will just gets upset like pls stop why are you saying this?

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

When You’re Gone

(Ex!Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You go to one of Eddie’s shows and see him for the first time since you broke up and he’s willing to do anything to win you back. WK: 5.8K

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning, mention of heart break/break ups, Eddie was kind of dick before the break up but he’s sweet through this entire thing, pining, unprotected sex, fingering, sixty nine, just a lil bit of choking, fluff fluff fluff, lmk if I missed any! 18+MDNI!!

A/N: So I’ve been missing Eddie a lot, I’ve been thinking about writing for him again off and on but the fear that I have from being bullied in this fandom has stopped me. But I guess all it took for me to break was seeing that ASSS so, I offer you this. Idk when I’ll write ST again, maybe it’ll be consistent, maybe it won’t. I guess this is a bit of a trial run. I put my HEART into this, I really kind of poured everything I’ve been feeling the last few months into writing this so that makes me extra nervous. But I hope you guys like it, I love u🖤

You couldn’t believe you let Robin talk you into this. You hadn’t seen or talked to Eddie In months. Not since you stormed off the set of the music video he practically begged you to star in. He was being a gigantic snob the entire shoot. Telling you that “you weren’t doing it right” or “looks like we are going to have to shoot that again, can you get your head in the game, babe?” But the thing was your head was in the game and you were doing every single thing he asked exactly how he asked and yet it still wasn’t enough.

That was just the final straw. He had been acting like the sun revolved around him. Around his music. Around partying and blowing money just so he could brag about the shit he has. He started calling your friends and family back home less and less. Missing date nights. Forgetting anniversaries. He stopped telling you how beautiful you looked any chance he got and treating you like you were his everything because he had so much more than you now. Which you would never be upset about, you were and are still proud of him for every single thing he’s accomplished. But that problem was that he stopped being your Eddie almost entirely.

You hoped that it would pass, that it was just because it was all so new, the money, the fame, the adoration. But after almost two years it just continued to get worse and no matter how much you tried to bring it up to him he just reassured you time and time again that you meant everything to him. With no change. You couldn’t continue to give him everything while it felt like he virtually forgot you existed everyday. So you walked away, even though he was yelling after you, not because he wanted you to stay, but because he needed to get back on set and finish filming. You went back to your shared home, packed your things, and left.

Robin was more than happy to let you stay with her and her girlfriend while you got back on your feet. You couldn’t stay in L.A. without Eddie, he was all you had there. So you went back home to Indiana. To your friends and your family. Where you felt seen and you felt like you mattered again. But that didn’t take away the ache in your heart for him. The entire piece of you that felt like it was missing without him. Eddie had been a constant in your life since you were little.

You grew up together. You were both too stupid to get your heads out of your asses and admit how crazy you were about each other until you graduated highschool but you thought after that it would be forever. It’s always been you and him. You went through every phase, every hardship, every big life event with Eddie by your side. When him and the guys got that record deal you were more than happy to continue to stand by him through it all. But apparently he didn’t feel the same. Which felt like a stab in your chest day after day. You really did miss him so much. But you weren’t even sure if he missed you too.

Eddie was sweating fucking buckets. He hasn’t been this nervous for a show in over a year, going up in front of all those people was a walk in the park to him at this point. But knowing you were going to be here tonight changes everything. He wants it to be perfect. He’s been working on this song for you since you left, just hoping that he would have a chance to play it for you. He didn’t want you to hear it on the radio, no, he wants you to hear it directly from him. He wants to see your face after. He wants to tell you how sorry he is for losing sight of the only thing that made all of this worth it. He just wants you.

Not a day has gone by since you left that he didn’t feel empty. He couldn’t do anything without thinking of you. His favorite restaurants were your favorite restaurants. His favorite movies were your favorite movies too. Your side of the bed being empty made him feel so lonely that he started just passing out on the couch every night to avoid looking at it. He stopped going to parties. Hardly ever saw anyone unless he had to go to the studio or play a show. Tour was awful, you were by his side through their entire debut tour so doing it without you felt like doing it without one of his guitar strings, or his arm.

The fans could tell he was less engaged. His record label was on his ass and so were the guys. He just couldn’t seem to shake you. At this point none of it even feels like it matters if he can’t have you. You’re all he wants and if he has to do all of this without you, if this is what ruined the two of you, part of him doesn’t even want it. A big part. He’s thought about dropping everything and just flying home to beg at your doorstep. But each time he talked himself out of it, not even sure if you’d want to see him.

But tonight? You were going to be here at his show and this was his chance to win you back. He would give it all up for you in an instant, all you had to do was ask and he would do it, no matter what it was. So when Robin called him and asked him to set aside an extra ticket for you he felt like this was the universe giving him another shot. He just hoped you would too.

Your whole body was vibrating as you watched Eddie on stage, your heart felt like it was practically beating to the sound of his music, calling out to him. He looked good, really good, and as emotional as you are you still can’t deny the way your core throbs, and your thighs clench together at the sight of him. His hair was a perfect mess, the tattered at the knee jeans he was wearing fit him like a dream, and were reminiscent of the ones he used to wear, when he was your Eddie. Not the designer ones you’ve seen him in recently. He was wearing the battle vest you guys made in your first apartment before everything got chaotic and went to shit. With nothing under it. His tattooed chest and torso were on display and you noticed a few new additions. But your eyes nearly pop out of your head when they land on the little stick-n-poke heart with your initials in the middle that you gave him when you were 18 was touched up.

You can’t tear your eyes away from it for a good thirty seconds, just as they start to well up with tears you snap yourself out of it, looking up at his face again. This time locking eyes with him for the first time in nearly six months. Eddie’s soft chocolate eyes go wide and his fingers falter on the strings for half a second before he fucking smirks at you right as he picks up on the chorus. He keeps his eyes on you for the rest of the song, before announcing that they only had a few left.

Eddie is trying to focus on the crowd, focus on his chords, focus on anything but you, but it’s damn near impossible. His eyes just keep traveling back to you because he missed you so much, because you looked so fucking beautiful standing in the very front row under the stage lights and you were looking at him in a way that gave him hope. He made eye contact with a few fans, reached down to touch their hands, but no matter what he did he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. When it came time to announce the second to last song he felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before turning to address the crowd.

“Hey guys.” Cheers erupt all around you and Eddie smiles, flipping his sweaty hair back, making you and probably every other girl in the room swoon. “Thanks for coming out tonight, you’ve been fucking awesome. This next song is… well, it’s a new song. I mean, it’s new to you guys, I’ve been working on it for a while. So there’s this girl…” His eyes lock with yours again and your heart beats somehow even faster. “She’s here tonight and I really fucked things up with her, obviously some shitty song isn’t gonna erase all of that. But I guess this is just kind of my way of trying to make up for it. Or at least starting to.”

As the band plays the opening notes of the song you immediately notice it’s a lot slower and more melodic than their usual songs. They have a few other songs like this, love songs that Eddie wrote about you, happy ones. But this is nothing like that, especially when Eddie starts to sing. He never takes his eyes off of you as the lyrics fall from his lips, lyrics about how sorry he is, how badly he fucked up, how he misses you so much he feels like his soul is missing. He pours his heart out to you as his deep voice filled with longing fills the venue.

You can’t stop the silent tears that stream down your face, unable to tear your eyes away from his for even a second. Eddie Munson, the love of your life, the beautiful boy who you got to watch turn into an even more beautiful man, is standing in front of thousands of people practically begging you for another chance. And it’s like every dream you’ve had since you left coming true. All you wanted was for him to come back to you and apologize, maybe beg a little. You might be an idiot for holding out hope that he would, but you always knew in your heart that you’d take him back if he did. It might take some time for you to fully trust him again, but if he’s willing to try so are you.

As the song comes to an end Eddie thanks everyone, making the crowd go crazy. Then he announces that the next song will be their last before looking down at you again. The flashing lights dance over the tears streaming down your cheeks but you’re smiling at him and it makes his heart soar. And when you blow him a kiss that he of course catches, putting it close to his heart like he has a million times, he feels like a dorky teenager in love with his best friend again. He watches you disappear into the crowd and his heart falls, almost forgetting that he was even on stage performing, all he could see was you. He could hardly focus through the last song, hastily thanking everyone for coming because he was absolutely terrified that you left without even giving him a chance to talk to you face to face.

You push through the sea of sweaty bodies until you get to the far end of the stage, stopping in front of the security guard, who of course recognized you and let you pass without even glancing at the bracelet on your wrist. You run over to Robin, practically knocking her over.

“Whoa! Slow down dude, are you okay? That was… a lot.” Robin grabs onto your shoulders to center you, her eyes laced with concern.

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m uh - I’m gonna go wait for Eddie in his dressing room.” You bite your lip nervously, avoiding eye contact with her, scared of her reply.

“Oh thank god! I can’t wait to tell Steve the plan worked!” Robin’s eyes go wide as her hand comes to cover her mouth. “I meaaan…”

“You know what? I’m going to bug you about this later, but right now I have to go.”

“Yesss!!! Go get your man!!!”

You snort as you turn away from her, rushing down the hall until you see the door with Eddie’s name on it. You pace the room a few times before sitting down on the black leather couch, bouncing your leg so hard it makes the legs shake. The air feels especially humid as your nerves course through your body, the material of the couch sticking to your bare thighs with each bounce of your knee. You can’t stop messing with your hair, adjusting your top, fiddling your fingers. It’s probably only been ten minutes but it feels like it’s been an eternity when the door finally pushes open.

“Princess” Eddie stands in the doorway, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and filled with adoration as his large ringed hand comes to rest against his chest. “Hi.”

“Hi Eddie.” You smile at him softly as you let out an almost dreamy sigh. “I liked your song.”

“Yeah?” He takes a few steps forward until there’s only a few feet between you. “I missed you. I’m so sorry, I was such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe I let you walk away.”

His eyes are sad as he casts them down, looking at his fingers as he fiddles with his rings. A classic tell tale sign that Eddie was nervous.

“And I totally get it if you don’t want anything to do with me still, I fucked up. Bad.”

“Eddie…” you sigh, standing up to close the remaining distance between you. You grab onto his hands, stopping his movements as you look up into his eyes. “Look at me.”

When he looks you in the eyes again his own are brimmed with tears, and his lip is quivering. And even though you’re still upset with him, all you want to do is comfort him. It was like second nature to you.

“I love you.” You say it so plainly, so matter of fact that it makes the tears flow down his cheeks, a heavy sob escape his chest. You grab onto his cheeks, pulling his forehead down to rest against yours. “I love you Eddie.”

“I love you. I love you so much. I miss you everyday. None of this is worth it without you. Everything feels so dull. Everything I do reminds me of you.” His hands come to rest over top of yours as his tears continue to flow, tears of your own now streaming down your face. “Please just give me a chance to make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll do anything. I’ll leave it all behind. Never touch my guitar again. Cut off my arm. Anything.”

“Well, you don’t have to go doing all of that…” you chuckle, tilting your chin so you can connect his lips with your own. You pour everything into that kiss, your love for him, your hurt, your anger, your longing. And he does the same. Kissing you like he would die if he didn’t. You only pull away when you absolutely need to take a breath of air. Foreheads still connected as you pant against each other's lips, just inches apart.

“God I missed your lips, princess.” Eddie runs his hands down your face, cupping your jaw. “Missed every part of you.”

“I missed you too Eddie, god.” You kiss him again, this time running your tongue across his plush bottom lip. He immediately grants you access, intertwining your tongues with a groan. Your fingers come up to lace through his curls, and tug causing him to moan into your mouth. His hands travel down your body, resting on your hips, his thumbs just grazing that bit of skin between your top and your skirt. You push yourself further against him, moaning when his hands move to grab your ass.

“Baby, wait, don’t you think we should talk more?” He pulls away breathlessly tilting his head back so he can look at you.

“Later. We can talk later.” You take a few steps back, stumbling a little on your heeled boots as the backs of your knees hit the couch, you plop down, pulling Eddie down with you. He puts his hands on the back of the cushions on either side of your head so he can lean down over you, his face inches from yours, his hair almost acting like a curtain around you, shielding you from the outside world. “Kiss me again, please.”

“You don’t gotta beg, princess, I told you I’d do anything, didn’t I?” He smirks at you as kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your mouth. You moan as your fingers desperately grasp onto the sides of his vest, pulling him closer.

“Touch me, Eddie.” You whimper, leaning back to look up at him through your lashes, your lips are kiss swollen and your lipstick is all but nothing at this point.

“Baby, are you sure you don’t want to talk before we-“

“Eddie, I appreciate your chivalry, I really do. But you said anything, right? I want, need, to feel your fingers again, please.” And how could he resist you, when you’re looking at him like that? And your skirt is pushed so far up your legs he can see your little lace panties, his favorite pair, if he isn’t mistaken. He would literally lick the bottom of your boots if you asked him to.

“I told you that you don’t have to beg, doll, I’m the one that should be begging for the privilege of being able to touch you.” He smirks, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips before kissing down your jaw, to your throat, leaving little nips along the way. “Missed this body so much.”

One of his hands grabs onto the top of your thigh, his thumb running over your slit through the thin lace of your panties pulling a soft moan from your lips.

“Missed this pussy so much.” He grazes over your clit before applying light pressure, rubbing circles on it with the pad of his thumb. “You’re so wet for me already, your body missed me too, huh sweetheart?”

“Yes, missed you so much, baby.” You pull him down further so that his free hand is resting on the cushion next to you and his neck and jaw were close enough to kiss and suck bruises into. “Mine, mine, mine.”

“All yours.” He chuckles as pushes your panties to the side, circling two fingers around your entrance and curling them upwards, stroking them against your sweet spot immediately. “Oh, you’re so fucking tight, practically sucking me in.”

“My fingers were never be as good as yours - ohmyfuckinggod.” A loud moan rips through you and your head falls back against the couch as he starts to thrust his fingers quickly in and out of your dripping hole. His thumb finds your clit, circling it in time with his fingers as his lips attach to your neck, giving you a mark of his own.

“Never have to live without them again if you don’t want to, I’ll worship this pussy everyday until I die if you’ll let me.” Eddie kisses down your chest, using his free hand to push your little tank top and bra down, freeing your tits. He kisses across the tops of them, leaving gentle open mouth kisses on both your peaked nipples before licking between the valley of them. He slides his tongue over so he can latch onto one of your nipples and it sends you over the edge.

“Ohhh fuck! Eddie! I’m cumming, I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers as he continues to thrust them deep and fast into you.

“Yeah, that’s it, baby girl, cum for me. You look so fucking beautiful.” He kisses your cheek before leaning up and pulling his fingers from you. He holds eye contact with you as he sucks them into his mouth with a groan. “Just as sweet as I remember.”

“Eddie, please fuck me, I need you.” Your legs are still spread, your glistening pussy practically calling his name, framed perfectly by those little panties that he loves so much like a work of fucking art. The way your shirt and bra are pushed down under your tits is making them look irresistible. He leans down, resting both of his hands on your knees, and smiles at you in a way that makes your stomach flip.

“You have no idea how fucking badly I want you right now, but can I take you back to my hotel? I wanna take my take with you.” He nuzzles his nose against yours before sliding it along your cheek, placing a soft kiss there.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” You’re breathless and so fucking horny but the idea of getting to fuck Eddie in a bed, where you would be totally alone, sounded a lot more appealing than fucking him in a dressing room where anyone could walk in.

You grab onto Eddie’s vest and push it off his body the minute the door to his hotel room is shut behind you. You take his face in your hands, your eyes shining as you look up at him while you rub your thumbs across his temples.

“You’re so beautiful Eddie.” You coo at him, running your hands down his chest.

“I like your new tattoos… and this.” You run your pointer finger across the band of his pants before tracing the little heart on his hip. “When did you do this?”

“Uh - A few weeks ago.” He grabs the hand tracing along his hip and takes it in his own, bringing it up to his lips so he can place a gentle kiss on the back of it. “I was getting this other tattoo and my artist asked if I wanted to cover it up. I laughed at him and told him to touch it up instead.”

“Eddie… you feel heat rise in your cheeks as butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I want you so bad.”

“Yeah, pretty girl? I told you I’m all yours.” He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back toward the bed so he can sit on the edge of it with you between his spread legs. “Gonna worship this body, show you how much I missed you.”

He grips onto your shoulders rubbing them gently for a moment before hooking his fingers in the straps of your bra and tank top, pulling them down your shoulders. He leans forward, kissing along your bare collar bone as one of his hands snakes around under your skirt to grab a hand full of your ass.

“Missed these perfect tits.” He takes them in his hands, squeezing them, before he grabs onto the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, his fingertips gently gliding over your skin with each touch. He took his time taking your skirt off, kissing every inch of exposed skin he could until you were completely bare before him. “So fucking perfect, baby doll.” He grips onto your ass looking up at you with his bottom lip between his teeth. “Need to taste that sweet pussy.”

“Take your pants off first.” You reach forward and undo his belt before working on his button and zipper, popping them open to reveal his thick cock covered by the material of his boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down to his ankles and you bend down to unlace his boots.

“Fuck, you look so sexy, makes me think about that time I made you hump my boot…” Eddie smirks down at you as he takes your face in his palm and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. It makes your pussy flutter around nothing.

“Yeah, that was one of the hottest things you’ve ever done, if I’m being honest.” You giggle before flicking your tongue out to run it along the pad of his digit.

“Jesus Christ, get up here before I bust from just looking at you.” Eddie grabs your hand, pulling you back up to your feet before kicking his pants off the rest of the way. He lays back on the bed, patting his chest. “Sit on my face, princess. Your throne missed you.”

You stand there for a moment, just looking at him. He keeps telling you how perfect you are but he doesn’t even realize how truly perfect he is. The way he was smiling at you like you hung the stars, his ink covered arms that are more toned now than when you were younger, along with his more broad chest that’s now nearly covered in tattoos. Your eyes travel down his torso to his happy trail, the v lines on his hips, and settle on the way that his cock is straining in his boxers. He was lying there, so perfect, calling his face your throne, and he is just so your Eddie.

“You good, sweetheart? Or are you hypnotized by my otherworldly handsomeness?” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning back on his elbows. You know he’s trying to be goofy but it only makes you even more desperate for him. You climb onto the bed to straddle him, your bare pussy resting on top of his cock, only separated by the thin material of his boxers.

“Yeah, I just really fucking need you.” You grind down on him, pulling a groan from him as you lean down to lick across his lips, sucking on the bottom one before pulling away with a pop.

“Fuck, get up here, now.”

He pats his chest and his tone has you clenching around nothing. He grips onto your ass, jiggling it in his hands before landing a smack on one of your cheeks. You moan as you scoot up so that your thighs are resting on either side of his head with your pussy hovering just over his mouth. Eddie wraps his arms around your legs, pulling you down so he can bury his face in between your legs. He licks a long stripe along your wet slit before circling your clit with his tongue.

“Oh - fuckingshit - feels so good.” You moan as he shoves his tongue as deep as he can inside you, flicking it against your inner walls.

“Yeah, that’s my good girl, missed this sweet fucking pussy so much.” He swirls his tongue inside you before he brings it up to your clit again, licking it with the flat of his tongue. He sucks your clit and your pussy lips into his mouth, causing your eyes to roll back.

“That’s so fucking good, yeah, eat my fucking pussy.” You lean back resting your hands on his thighs as you start to grind down on his face. You bring one of your hands to his cock, stroking him through his boxers, chasing him to moan even louder into your pussy. “Fuck, Eddie, I wanna taste you.”

You push yourself up off of his face and he looks up at you with a pout but before he can even protest you’re throwing one of your legs over his head so you can flip around and straddle his face reverse cowgirl.

“Oh jesusfuckingchrist, baby.” Eddie groans, grabbing onto both of your ass cheeks and jiggling the meat of them in his hands. You hook your fingers in the band of his boxers so you can pull his cock free, spitting on your palm and taking it in your hand. “Fuck.”

“Need to taste you too, baby.” You lean down, flicking your tongue out to leave little kitten licks on his tip before sucking it between your lips.

“God damn, princess, fucking missed your mouth so much.” Eddie moans as he uses his grip on your ass to pull your pussy down on his face again, burying his tongue deep inside.

You take him further down your throat, swirling your tongue around his shaft and using your hand to stroke what isn’t in your mouth. Eddie eats your pussy like a man starved, bringing his lips to your clit as he inserts two of his thick fingers inside you.

“Yes, yes, that’s so good, you’re gonna make me cum.” You pull off of him continuing to use your hand to stroke his spit soaked cock. He picks up the speed of his fingers as he sucks on your clit even harder. “Oh god - I’m - I’m fucking cumming!”

Your walls clench around his fingers and your thighs squeeze around his head as your high washes over you, loud moans and the sound of your wet pussy filling the room. Eddie doesn’t stop until you’re pulling off of him because it becomes too much. He grips onto your hips, flipping you over into your back before covering your body with his own. He connects your lips in a heated kiss, his lips and chin still slick with your wetness as you taste yourself in his tongue.

“Need to be inside of you, fuck.”

“Yes, please please fuck me, I need to feel you.” Eddie uses one hand to grip onto the base of his cock, running the tip through your folds before pushing it inside you. “Oh, god.”

“Shit baby, you’re so fucking tight, so fucking wet.” Eddie grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, pushing his hips flush against yours before pulling almost all the way out and slamming into you even harder. He starts to fuck you hard and fast, one of his hands on your hip while the other wraps around your neck just tightly enough.

“Yeah, fucking choke me, missed your hands around my throat, missed you, fuck.” Eddie picks up the pace, his hips smack loudly against yours as the hand on your hips moves down so he can rub circles in your clit.

“Fuck, baby girl, missed you too, missed this fucking pussy. Gonna fill you up, need you to cum for me.” The hand around your throat squeezes just a little tighter as his lips crash against yours. Your hands are gripping onto his shoulders so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if your nails break the skin. His circles on your clit never let up as he tilts his hips so he’s hitting your sweet spot just right.

“Oh - my fucking - fuck, I’m cumming I’m fucking cumming.” Your pussy squeezes him like a vise grip as you run your nails down his back.

“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna fill this pussy up so good. Never quitting you. Gonna marry you someday.” Eddie’s thrusts grow sloppy until he’s pushing his hips flush against yours and emptying inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, rocking his hips slowly as he rides out his high. He lets his body rest on top of yours, placing gentle kisses on your neck. You bring your hands to his head and lace your fingers through his hair so you can lightly scratch his scalp.

“I love you, Eddie.” You sigh, dreamily. “I know we have some stuff to work through, and talk about, but I’d really like to make it work. You really wanna marry me someday?”

“What!” Eddie pushes up on his hands, so he can look at you, a big goofy smile on his face. “Of course I wanna fucking marry you! It’s only been the plan since we were 8 and I gave you that ring I won with arcade tickets.”

“I just… I don’t know, I thought maybe you got sick of me and that’s why…”

“Baby…” Eddie’s voice suddenly sounds a little sad, maybe guilty. “That was never… I would never, fuck. Hold on.”

He gets up off the bed so he can find his vest, he picks it up off the ground and pulls something from the pocket before coming back to sit next to you on the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?” You sit up in front of him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a pout on your lips. “I got this… well, I got this a few months before you left and I was just waiting for the right time, ya know? And honestly it never came because I had my head so up my own ass that I wasn’t making the time. But uh - I want you to have it. Even if you don’t say yes, I got it for you, so it’s yours…”

He opens his hand to reveal a little black square box and when he opens it, sitting inside is the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Set in the middle is a big shiny ruby, bracketed by two little bat wings on each side that lead into the band. It was perfect, you’ve been telling him practically your whole lives that if someone proposed to you with a boring ass dimond you would say no, no matter how big it was.

“Eddie…” Your eyes well up with tears as your bottom lip quivers. “Is that really for me?”

“Princess.” He chuckles, reaching a hand out to wipe away a stray tear that escaped. “Of course it’s for you. It’s always been you. And it always will be. Even if you don’t want me back.”

“Eddie, I - yes.” You smile widely at him, wrapping your hand around his wrist so you can turn your head to place a kiss there. “It’s always you, you’re the only one for me. You have a lot of making up to do… and it might take me some time to get fully over all of this but… I still wanna marry you. It’s you and me, till the day we die, stab a goblin in the eye.”

“Yeah baby.” He chuckles, a few tears of his own streaming down his face. You still wanted him. You were going to take his ring. You were sitting here in front of him more beautiful and grown than ever, repeating the words that you had said to each other as kids more times than he could count. “Till the day we die.”

He pulls the ring from the box and you offer him your left hand so he can slide it on your finger. You both smile widely and teary eyed at each other as he pulls you into a kiss. This one is different, this one is full of promise and hope and it’s like coming home. He rests his forehead against yours as he rubs the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs.

“Stab a goblin in the eye.” He chuckles, smiling widely as he places another gentle kiss on your lips.

Taglist: @littlexdeaths @babygorewhore @eddiesxangel @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @hippiegoth97 @jenniquinn @take-everything-you-can

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson angst #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson fluff #Dolly writes #divider by me

[luveline]

can we possibly get the one where Gideon doesn’t like bombshell reader and poor Spencer is watching like☹️

Spencer feels a little like a child of divorce. Like, he absolutely is a child of divorce, but he didn’t think he’d feel this way at work. Lately, all Hotch and Gideon do is argue. 

It’s especially odd in that Hotch doesn’t usually go against Gideon’s judgement, even when he doesn’t agree, but you seem to be something Hotch is willing to fight for, and Spencer has no idea why.

“We don’t need her,” Gideon says. Spencer knows it isn’t Gideon being cruel, just stern. “We have a fine team without her.” 

“But with her, we’re better. And we have an opening. I know you like Greenaway for it, and I do too–”

“Everyone likes Greenaway for the position, she’s more palatable than L/N, and she works harder.”

Spencer tries not to whip his face back and forth like he’s following a ping pong ball, but it’s hard to keep up. He has no idea what his mentor’s talking about in all honesty, you’d seemed more than palatable when you met him last week. You were nice. And barely anybody is nice to Spencer. 

You sounded like you actually wanted to hear him talk, something Gideon has often been alone in. And palatable is a subjective word. 

“That’s not necessarily true,” Hotch says, knowing he’s losing. 

“We’re not gonna rush into picking someone,” Gideon says, less stern, more neutral. 

“No. I have invited her to the Georgia consultation this afternoon.” 

Gideon sighs through his nose. The afternoon rolls around quickly. Spencer doesn’t want to think about it but he’s excited to see you, and he feels conflicted in that; Gideon is the first person in a long time who actually seems to care about him, so Spencer is guilty of always aiming to please, but he can’t understand why Gideon dislikes you so much. Am I being easily led? he wonders. 

He’ll admit to finding you attractive. In his head, that is. You’d spoken so particularly, you’d looked stunning, and you didn’t make a fuss when he wouldn’t shake your hand. You called him beautiful. 

It’s the nicest, kindest attention he’s had since he started. Morgan calls him pretty boy. Spencer knows it’s not the same thing. 

They gather in the conference room, Morgan, Hotch, Gideon and Spencer, just a few minutes before 2PM. A minute later, you’re knocking on the door. 

“Hello…” You smile when you realise they’re here. “Am I late?” 

“No, L/N. Come and take a seat,” Hotch says. 

There’s a plastering of documents on the table and an empty seat by both Morgan and Spencer. You choose the one beside Spencer despite a stack of manilla folders, tucking your chair in neatly. “Oh, the grizzly stuff. This will upset my feminine energy.” 

Morgan laughs. Gideon glares at the table. 

Spencer likes it when you’re around. One more person and suddenly the consultation is a conversation and not a debate. You can keep up with everyone. You laugh at Spencer occasionally and he doesn’t know why, but he can tell it isn’t cruel laughter; he’s had a long time to work out the difference. 

Gideon excuses himself for a coffee half an hour in. 

Hotch immediately leans across the table. “I’m trying to help you,” he says. 

You grimace. “What am I doing wrong now?” 

“The laughing.” 

“You laugh.” 

“I know.” Hotch smiles at you. “You’re getting good at this, you have good insight on the dark triad. You read the book I sent?” 

“How’s Haley?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but his smile stays. “Don’t joke about that.” 

You’re not flirting. Or, Spencer doesn’t think so. It’s more likely you’re joking as Hotch says, everything about your body language pointing to amicable friendliness besides your flirting tones. “I read the book,” you say. Your gaze turns to Spencer. “Bet you’ve read it too, huh? Morgan said you’ve read every book ever written.” 

“That’s an exaggeration,” Spencer says. 

“But close?” you ask. “I’d love some recommendations. You know. For profiling.” 

“Don’t let her fool you, Reid, she’s well read,” Morgan says. 

“Wait, Gideon doesn’t like you because you laugh?” Spencer asks. 

It’s a socially inept thing to say, he realises after. You lean back in your chair all sweet and soft with your legs crossed, your dark stockings thin at the knees. He’s so, so worried you’re going to be offended and that’s exactly what he needs, a possible friend isolated again by his inability to read the room, but you don’t chew him out. You nudge his leg gently with the toe of your heel. 

“Now who said he doesn’t like me, handsome?” you ask teasingly. 

Spencer regrets the heat that floods his face and neck. 

“It’s complicated,” you add, your smile more than friendly, Spencer can’t work it out. “But don’t worry, I’ll turn him around eventually. It’s one of my many talents.” 

Oh, he thinks. That’s what it is. Spencer’s finally in on the joke. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[ilyrafe]

𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: brief sexual innuendo, rafe being a softie!!!!

word count: 2.6k (i *might* have gotten carried away i'm so sorry lol)

a/n: this is a sequel to late night and also based on this, so thanks @keziahcore ! your mind is literally everything!

it’s almost like a sixth sense.

rafe feels your absence from the bed, and immediately becomes agitated. he turns on the lamp next to his bed and looks for any sign that you’re still there, and finds your small handbag on the armchair, which makes him just slightly relieved. 

when he looks at the clock, he sees that it is almost two in the morning. the bathroom door is ajar and the lights are off, which means you’re not there. before he can leave his room looking for you, you return, holding a glass of water, wearing only his shirt to cover yourself up.

“where were you? why did you leave me here?”

he can’t control this agony, this anguish that always catches him off guard when he finds himself alone. he can’t help feeling like a time bomb, ready to explode at any moment. the smallest things you do seem to trigger him massively, and he hates that. he hates that he ends up being rude and harsh to you, because you’re always so understanding and sweet.

even he knows he doesn’t deserve you.

“i was thirsty and went downstairs to drink some water.” your tone is sweet and calm, which makes him feel like shit.

his face changes, as he seems to calm down. you didn’t leave him, you just went to get some water. you’re there, your stuff is there, you’re not going anywhere.

“next time, leave a glass here. i don’t like it when you do that.” he says in a much softer tone, but he’s still upset that his sleep got interrupted.

“do what? get hydrated?” you joke, trying to lighten up his mood.

he rolls his eyes and huffs. don’t make him tell the truth.

“go back to bed. i’m tired, alright? i had a long day.”

“actually, i was going to read a book. i’m not sleepy and i don’t want to lie down right now.”

is it so hard to understand that he wants you to be close to him so that he feels safe enough to get a decent night’s sleep?

“you can read on the bed.”

“you won’t mind the lamp on?”

“no, just get the damn book and come back to bed.”

you laugh and nod, picking up the book from his desk and following him to his bed. rafe gets to his spot and as you sit down, he places one hand on your bare thigh and falls back to sleep almost immediately.

while he dives deep into his necessary rest, you start reading. it’s that book, in cold blood by truman capote. you don’t know if rafe is a reader, he never really talks about books with you.

every once in a while, you look down at your thighs to see his hand, firmly holding you, to make sure you won’t leave. this small gesture makes you feel stupid. stupid to believe he might feel something other than lust for you. rafe makes you question your beliefs and that itself makes you feel overwhelmed.

sometimes you want to leave, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. and you have tried countless times. he’s good for you in the same intensity he’s bad. to say you’re scared to ask him what you are would be an understatement, but you just would like some clarification, because you don’t beg the people you’re casually fucking to stay the night almost every night and throw a tantrum when they leave to get some water.

deep down, you know you’re more scared to hear you’re just an easy fuck. at this point, this would tear you apart.

being with rafe is a challenge. it’s like running a marathon you know you will not get to the finish line, and yet, you keep running.

when it’s almost four in the morning, you close the book and turn the lamp off. finally, sleep comes to you, and you settle into his bed, still holding rafe’s hand, which never left your thigh. with the touch, rafe wakes up, and this time he is no longer agitated.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” you say, as you snuggle into the mattress.

“you- what time is it?” he asks, adorably confused and sleepy.

“it’s almost four.”

“and you’re going to sleep now?”

“yeah. go back to sleep, it’s early.” you say softly, placing a hand on his cheek, and he complies, pulling you close.

(...)

rafe’s alarm clock rings promptly at seven in the morning. he turns it off and goes back to his previous position: hugging you.

your hair smells like coconut and your skin is always soft. he never wants to not be touching you. it’s like your body was made to be next to his. for some reason, just your presence is enough to make him feel calm and at peace.

he places the softest kiss on your shoulder, enjoying the quietness that only early mornings can give him. the sweet sound of birds chirping outside makes him forget about everything else. rafe only has you in his mind (and in his arms).

you wake up and soon turn to face him. rafe has the most adorable sleepy face, and you might never stop melting over him. seeing him up close will never not be amazing. he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. he probably has the most beautiful shade of blue in his eyes.

“go back to sleep.” he whispers.

“‘m not sleepy anymore.” you mumble as you rub your eyes, which rafe finds captivating. “hi.”

“hi,” he smiles. “you only slept for three hours, sleep some more.” he insists, and you feel a tone of concern in his voice, but maybe it’s just your sleep giving you that impression.

“i’m okay, rafey.”

rafey. he hates that stupid nickname, but when it comes out of your mouth, he wants to legally change his name to it.

“you’re gonna be tired.”

“no, i’m not. i don’t normally sleep a lot.”

rafe frowns not because he’s confused - he obviously isn’t. he’s just not liking what you’re saying. he doesn’t like the idea of you struggling with whatever that may be. rafe knows damn well how bad it is to be sleep deprived, he doesn’t want you going through that.

“you have insomnia?”

“i guess i do,” you shrug. “i don’t really know. i just don’t sleep a lot. i wish i did, though. i get so jealous when i see you sleeping for hours on end.” you smile sweetly at him. “you’re so relaxed. must be nice…”

you let go of rafe after leaving a timid kiss on his lips, and stretch before getting up and going to his bathroom to start your morning routine.

after a quiet breakfast, rafe gives you a ride home, and he can’t hide his concern about what you said.

“i’ll see you around, yeah?” you tell him, with the sweetest smile you always have.

“of course. uh, about that sleep thing… if you need help with that… i’m here.”

“rafe, i think you might be a sex addict.” you joke, really not understanding what he meant. he isn’t talking about sex. the one time he isn’t talking about sex, you don’t get it.

“well, i’m just one call away.”

you chuckle and intend to kiss his cheek, but rafe is quick enough to turn his face and make you kiss his lips. you laugh at his antics.

silly rafe is your favorite. if only other people got to see this side of him.

he watches you leave his car and get inside your home. the strange feeling of loneliness comes back almost immediately, but it gets him thinking. it has to be some sort of irony that the person that quite literally helps him sleep isn’t sleeping.

(...)

only two days have passed and rafe already needs you to spend the night at his house again. he is so tired and exhausted. he takes out his phone and quickly types a message.

rafe: are u busy right now? can i pick u up?

you don’t tend to take long to respond to his texts, but this time, an hour goes by and nothing, so rafe starts to feel that unbearable anguish again, and starts to think that you left him and that you found someone better to spend you time with.

impulsively, rafe facetimes you, and you answer. from your face alone, he can see the tiredness in your eyes. or rather, in your dark circles. you’re in your bedroom, which makes him feel calmer.

“hi, rafey. sorry, i just got my phone.”

“what are you doing?”

“i’m studying for my exams.”

“i just wanted to know if i could pick you up.”

“i’dd love to,” you smile. “but it’s not a good idea, i need to study and i have a mountain of books to read until tomorrow if i want a good grade, which i do.”

“you’re tired, you should rest.” he advises, visibly worried.

“nothing a can of red bull can’t fix.” you say showing him the can.

“y/n, please go to sleep.”

something about his request makes you angry. maybe it’s the stress, or the fact that this time rafe is right.

“rafe, you’re not my boss. i need to hang up, i got shit to do.”

before he can protest, you hang up the call, and surprisingly, rafe doesn’t get angry. this is what it’s like when he’s sleep deprived.

as always, rafe wants to take control of the situation, so he puts on a hoodie, grabs his car keys and leaves his house to go to yours. it’s late at night, and rafe knows your parents are probably asleep.

the path is short, and soon he arrives in front of your house and the light is on in your bedroom, which tells him that you are still up. carefully, rafe gets out of his car and walks to the back of your residence, and climbs the wall, always making sure he doesn’t get caught by anyone. finally, rafe gets on the small balcony of your room and sees you surrounded by papers, books and notebooks. it’s a mess.

he knocks on the glass door, which startles you, but you soon calm down when you see it’s him. you almost run to open the door, but your face isn’t the happiest.

“what are you doing here, rafe?”

“nice to see you, too.” he ironizes as he steps inside your bedroom. “i have a proposition for you.”

“i’m so not in the mood, rafe…”

“listen to me.” he says. “i’ll… i’ll help you out with this stuff, as long as you let me help you sleep.”

“i don’t wanna have sex.”

“i’m not talking about sex.”

oh.

“you mean… sleep? like, really sleep?”

“yeah. i don’t like that you sleep so little. you’re becoming cranky.”

you chuckle at the last bit. you can’t stay mad at him, can you?

“that’s a nice offer, rafe, but what do you know about biology?”

“i’ll have you know i was a good student.” he pouts and you laugh. “even if i don’t know what you’re studying, i’ll help you out.”

it takes you a few seconds, but it’s decided. your body is about to give out, you really need to rest. you can’t absorb any more information. a good sleep might even help you learn whatever you need.

“okay.”

rafe smiles and it might be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

you begin to organize all your notes and books on your desk and rafe begins to undress down to his underwear, and gets comfortable on your bed. he realizes this is his first time sleeping on your bed, and he already likes the faint smell of rosemary that your bedroom exudes.

you have such a pretty bedroom. the walls are painted in the softest shade of blue, and you have books everywhere. no wonder you’re so smart, you read a lot.

the wooden furniture gives an earthy feel to your room, contrasting with the delicacy of the light blue walls. in the photos of the small mural on the wall, rafe realizes that he wanted to be there, present in the photos, and maybe, in a photo with you. you are always smiling and being hugged by someone, or hugging them. you are like that, you are magnetic.

you finish organizing your things and quickly change into a shirt of rafe’s that you hope he doesn’t recognize. it’s big and comfortable, and it makes you feel close to him when he’s far away.

the lamp next to your bed is on, so you turn off the main light in your room and go to your bed, meeting rafe, and he has the smallest smile on his lips. it’s ironic how having sex and being naked doesn’t feel as intimate as simply sleeping together does.

“are your parents home?” he asks.

“no, why?”

“so i could have come through the door, huh.”

“yeah.” you laugh.

a brief moment of silence sits between you two, as you’re staring at each other’s eyes. rafe is mesmerized and terrified at the same time. this - whatever this is - feels so nice and so foreign. he knows damn well he isn’t one to want to just sleep with someone, let alone climb up a wall to just sleep with someone.

rafe cameron is in love, and he is utterly terrified.

“what are you thinking?” you ask in a whisper.

your blinks are getting slower and slower. rafe begins to run his hand through your hair, combing them back, and touching the skin of your neck and shoulders ever so softly.

thinking about how much i want to be with you and how fucking scared i am.

“nothin’. close your eyes.”

you do, not because he told you to, but because you couldn’t keep them open any longer. 

why do you feel the safest with someone as dangerous as rafe cameron? someone who deals with the shadiest people around, that has anger issues and violent behavior.

that tried to drown his own sister.

why none of that matters when you’re in his arms? are you actually insane?

probably.

(...)

as soon as you wake up, you see your bed empty, and rafe’s clothes are no longer on the floor, where he had left them last night. it was to be expected, but you still feel disappointed. he was so sweet last night.

when you look at the clock, it’s already past nine in the morning, which means you’ve slept, surprisingly, eight hours straight. damn, you really were sleep deprived.

the sound of your stomach begging for food makes you get out of bed.

when you leave your bedroom, you hear the sound of the tv on and get scared. slowly, without making any noise, you go down the stairs, trying to find out if your house has been invaded, but it would be strange, as it is daytime. soon you see rafe walking around your house.

he didn’t leave?

it’s like you’re not even there. you get to watch rafe make himself comfortable in your kitchen, looking for stuff to put on the table. there are two delivery bags on the counter, which means he bought food, but the gesture warms your heart, which was merely shattered.

“the cutlery is in the second drawer next to the sink.” you say, startling him a bit.

“jesus. can you, i don’t know, announce you’re in the room? i almost dropped your coffee.”

you laugh.

“sorry, rafey. what are you doing, i thought you had left.”

“uh, i bought breakfast for y- us.” he says. you look inside the bags and you can tell he ordered possibly everything you have eaten from that place. “c’mon, i ordered that vegan shit you like, your coffee and even a pretzel.”

you follow him to the table and you both begin helping yourselves. this isn’t your first time having breakfast with him, but it does feel like it’s a first.

for the first time, you don’t want to leave him.

i love feedback! let me know your thoughts! <3

#my writings #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey imagine

[lieslab]

Youtiful

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: You're feeling insecure about different things and your boyfriend is right there to make you feel better.

Genre: Comfort/hurt

Word Count: 4.2K

A/N: Requestee, I hope I did you right by this one. I think some of these make more sense than others, but I tried my best. For the rest of you that are reading my ongoing Felix siren AU, that's getting updated soon, and then the final request in my inbox will be posted and then we'll be up to date. So if you have a request, drop it in the inbox.

_ _ _

Chan: 

When Chan came home from work, he expected you to greet him like you always did. He expected your smile and your sweet voice. He expected the twinkle in your eyes and the excitement that flowed through you as you practically skipped into his arms. 

What he wasn’t expecting was your voice without the accent. He stared at you in shock as you greeted him. With his lips turning down into a frown, a similar frown found your face. 

“Are you okay?” Your eyes scanned him. “Did something happen at work?” You couldn’t tell what was wrong and it was worrying you. 

“Your voice,” he started. 

“What about it?” 

“Why are you talking like that? What happened to your accent?” 

“My accent? Oh, right.” You stepped back and your fingers began to knot together. “Well, I’m trying to break it and stop doing it. I know the fans don’t like it, so I-” 

“Don’t do that.” 

“Huh?” 

“Change yourself for the fans, don’t do that.” 

“But I-” 

“I don’t care what the fans think. You’re mine and I think your accent is cute. Don’t let them get to you, sweetheart. You have the cutest voice that I’ve ever heard.” 

“But sometimes you don’t like it either,” you objected. “Remember how I say certain things and you laugh at me?” 

“Aw, I’m not laughing at you in a bad way.” A grin lit up his face and he stepped closer. He gently cupped your cheeks. “I laugh because sometimes you pronounce things in a different way and I think it’s cute. You give me cuteness aggression sometimes.” 

He gently cupped your cheeks and continued. “It makes me feel so happy. You get a little upset because I keep laughing and it’s adorable! I could listen to your accent all day. Plus, I have an accent too, remember?” 

“Oh, right. I do love your accent and I would be upset if you tried to get rid of it.” 

“Exactly! So go back to your accent and let me love you how you are. Look at you!” He cooed and gently squished your cheeks. “What a cutie pie!” 

“Ew! Don’t call me that again!” The sound of your natural accent poked through and caused him to giggle. He squished your cheeks harder and his grin widened. Your cheeks went bright red as you tried to escape. 

You could try all you wanted, but he wasn’t going to let go until he proved his point. 

_ _ _

Minho: 

“And then he hit me! Can you believe that?” His hands went up into the air and he sighed. “Kim Seungmin, that little shithead, hit me! I nearly threw him across the room.” 

You hummed softly and continued to weave the yarn around your sticks. You had been crocheting for the past twenty minutes when Minho showed up and began to ramble. You didn’t mind it, but you hadn’t spoken once. You kept listening and nodding or occasionally humming. 

When Minho finally realized it, he stared at you with a raised eyebrow. “Are you okay over there?” You nodded without a response. “Are you mad at me?” 

You shook your head and continued. Your concentration didn’t leave the navy blue strand of yarn. You wrapped it around the hooks and continued making your scarf in peace. 

Minho sighed, walked over to the couch beside you, and dropped down. He placed his head on your thigh and glanced up at you. Feeling the warmth, you looked over and your eyes met his. 

“Why aren’t you talking to me?” 

“Because I talk a lot and I figured you should do most of the talking this time.” 

“Talk a lot?” 

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that I talk a lot. I ramble a lot and it’s probably annoying for you. I’m listening, just so you’re aware. I can’t believe he hit you, that’s practically elder abuse.” 

A quip of a smile began to appear on Minho’s face until you went back to crocheting without another word. He didn’t like that you thought you talked too much. He liked your rambles and loved listening to you. 

“I don’t like it when you sit here quietly without speaking. It makes me feel like I’m talking to a statue. If I wanted to date a statue, I’d just go snog one at the art museum.” 

You didn’t respond. You were briefly distracted by fixing the yarn that had tangled around the metal hooks. Your eyebrows furrowed while your fingers worked to unloop the near knot that was forming. 

When you didn’t respond, Minho sat up. He leaned over to your ball of yarn on the ground and glanced at you. Your gaze was still set on the hooks. Without a word, he leaned down and gently grabbed the neatly wrapped ball. 

You didn’t have time to react. With a manic giggle, he took off grabbing the ball of yarn. He instantly began to unravel it while he ran. Your jaw dropped in shock. 

“Minho! Give it back!” You cried out as you stood up. 

“Talk to me!” 

“You jerk!” 

You watched as he laughed and zig-zaged through the apartment unraveling it all. You weren’t mad, you were just shocked. It caught you so off guard, you weren’t sure how to react. 

“I said talk to me! Speak! Do you want me to offer you a treat?” 

You yelled as you chased him throughout the apartment. Curse words flew out of your mouth and he kept jumping onto furniture and leaping off of it. 

By the time he collapsed, you were right beside him. Both of you were panting heavily and sheer sweat soaked your foreheads. After a few seconds, Minho finally spoke. “Have I ever said I love your voice?” 

“You could have-” You sucked in a deep breath. “You could have just said that.” 

“What’s the fun in that?” 

“I’m going to kill you.” 

“Good luck mustering up the strength after that workout.” 

“Asshole.” 

“Glad to hear your voice again, babe.” 

_ _ _

Changbin: 

Trigger warning: mentions of food, weight loss, calories, skipping a meal, and bingeing.

“Why aren’t you having a bowl of the delicious soup you made?” Changbin asked. 

You were strung over the side of the couch and hanging upside down. Your hair hung down towards the floor and your arms dangled freely. 

“Because.” 

“Because is not a good enough answer.” 

“Well you see,” you started, “I’m trying to lose weight.” 

“Oh?” 

“And before you throw a hissy fit, it’s one meal I’m missing. Don’t you dare make a big deal out of it. I know how many calories I’m supposed to have and all. I already talked to my doctor and I-” 

“So…you’re skipping out on a meal for lower calories?” 

“I want to make a specific dish for dinner, but it has a higher calorie count. I figure that if I skip this meal, I can eat more for dinner and then I-” 

“I don’t mean to be rude, but are you sure that it won’t lead to a binge?” 

“What happened to believing in me?” 

“What happened to attainable goals?” 

“This is attainable! Why can’t you believe in me for once?” 

He walked over and plopped down beside you. “I always believe in you. Why do you need to lose weight anyway?” 

“Because I don’t feel good about my body and I want to do better.” 

“Promise you’re not going to go to super extreme lengths?” 

“Yeah, but honestly-” Using your core muscles, you jerked yourself back upright. Your eyes found his. “I’m shocked that you’re not lecturing me.” 

“Please believe that I would like to, but I’ve also cut meals for weight loss on some days. I trust that you’ll be careful with this and do it in a way that won’t damage your body. Just remember that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I know I don’t have to, but sometimes change is good, isn’t it?” 

“I think it depends on the type of change and how it’s created.” 

Your eyes wandered over to the soup. You spent a good chunk of time chopping up vegetables and beef for the vegetable soup. It was a little cooler outside and your stomach rumbled. You finally pulled your eyes away, trying to distract yourself. 

“You know that you can have a small bowl, right? You can have a small bowl now and you can join my workout later. There’s a treadmill at the gym. I know you’re not a fan of lifting weights. You can look pretty and watch Binnie get big and strong.” 

“That is so tempting.” 

Changbin picked up his bowl, grabbed a spoonful of the soup, and began to loudly slurp it. Your glare instantly sent him into laughter. You huffed and got up. 

“Where are you going?” He called after you. 

“To get a small bowl of my soup. If you lied about the treadmills, I’m going to drop a weight on your foot.” 

“You don’t even have the strength to pick up the amount I lift.” 

“If there’s a will, there’s a way.” 

_ _ _

Hyunjin: 

For the third day in a row, you weren’t home when Hyunjin was home. He frowned and kicked off his shoes. He deposited his bag in your shared room and waited for you to get home. 

Hours later, it was pitch black outside. You fumbled with the lock and your keys. Hyunjin was on the couch, scrolling through Instagram, when the jingling caught his attention. He was up within seconds and rushing towards the door. 

When you finally got the door open, Hyunjin smiled softly at you. “Hi, baby.” 

You stumbled forward and practically collapsed in his arms. Panicked, he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you standing. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?” 

“I’m so tired.” 

“I can’t believe your boss is making you stay over so late an-” 

“I’m choosing to stay over later.” 

His eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “What? Why? Baby, you’re barely getting enough sleep and you ar-” 

“The extra money is good.” 

“You are literally unraveling at the seams. You already have plenty of money.” He gently brushed your hair behind your ear. “You don’t need to earn more money.” 

“I need more. People are speculating that I use you for your money. I have to show them that I-” 

“Woah, woah, woah. First of all, that’s nobody’s business. Second of all, you don’t do that. You already make enough and you’re going to kill yourself if you keep this up. Your body isn’t meant to only sleep for four to five hours a night.” 

“I need the money.” Your eyes slipped shut and you kept babbling half-awake. Hyunjin pulled you inside and shut the door behind you. “Just a little more,” you mumbled. 

“Baby, you know I love you, right? I’m not going to let you keep pressing yourself like this. Thank goodness it’s Friday because you need some sleep.” 

“I’m supposed to go back tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry about that right now.” He gently scooped your legs from beneath you and carried you bridal style. Your head fell onto his chest and you let out a sigh. 

“That’s it, there you go. Don’t worry about work right now, just focus on my voice. I’m going to get you ready for bed and then we’re going to cuddle and go to sleep, okay?” 

You let out a soft hum in agreement. In the bedroom, he slowly pulled you out of your work clothes and slipped your exhausted body into pajamas. You didn’t fight back against it as your head fell towards your chest. 

When he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you and tugged you closer. He pressed his lips to your temple, leaned over, and switched off the light. “Sleep tight, I love you.” 

The only response he got was your soft snores. He chuckled and tugged you closer. As long as you were okay, he was happy. 

_ _ _

Han: 

“Okay, so I’ve got the newest anime and all of our favorite snacks. We’re going to order from your favorite restaurant later and have takeout for dinner.” 

You were calm, cool, and collected as you laid out the plan. Han blinked in shock and glanced down at all the snacks you had brought. He wasn’t expecting this, you just showed up and announced you had a surprise in tow. 

“Where are the gummies?” He asked. 

Your face fell a little as you internally panicked. “Gummies? What gummies? Did I forget to pick up some? I didn’t know you liked those I-” 

“The ones that you like? You said you got our favorite snacks. You always eat them first. They’re like the patties from SpongeBob, you love them!” 

“Oh, those.” 

“Couldn’t find them?” 

“I didn’t want them.” 

“Why?” 

You shrugged, “just didn’t feel like it.” 

“Oh?” He sat down on the couch beside you and watched as you put the movie on. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me. I feel like I’ve been spoiled.” 

“I wanted to watch the new anime too because,” your voice raised in pitch, “it looked good.” 

Your voice only changed like that when you lied. Han’s eyes narrowed at you and he glanced down at the snacks again. Something was off about your behavior, but he couldn’t place it. 

“What?” 

“Why are yo-” 

“Oh!” You forced yourself to smile. “The show is already starting!” You shoved a pack of his favorite chips into his hand and turned your attention to the screen. 

Half-way through the movie, Han noticed you weren’t paying attention. Your eyes were on the wall and you looked a little lost. Actually, you looked pretty sad. 

After realizing it, Han grabbed the remote and paused the movie. The sudden silence grabbed your attention and you glanced over. Noticing the pause symbol in the corner of the screen, you looked at Han. 

He was staring back at you with a look of confusion. Nerves began to bubble up in your gut, but you held it back. “Is something wrong?” 

“I think something is wrong with you.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re acting off.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

He snapped his fingers together and glanced back down at the snacks. “That’s it! Where are all your favorite snacks? No wonder it looked so strange. The stuff you usually snack on isn’t here.” 

“So?” 

“You don’t even like anime movies!” 

“That is no-” Your voice cracked and your eyes widened in shock. You cleared your throat and continued. “That’s not true.” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“Why are you acting so differently? I don’t like it. Did something happen?” 

When your bottom lip quivered, he crawled closer. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“You’ve been distant,” you muttered weakly. “I thought you got tired of me. Maybe if I liked more of the things you liked, maybe you’d like me more and pay more attention.” 

He felt like pure shit. He tugged you into his arms and rubbed your back. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize it. The band is having a comeback and I’ve been stressed. I’m really sorry, I had no idea.” 

“I love you for you and I don’t want you to change who you are. I love you and I love that we have our differences. It makes for good conversations and sometimes I like arguing and bickering with you about our dislikes.” 

“These are gross,” you mumbled as you held up the pack of candy that you had been forcing yourself to eat. 

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yeah-huh!” 

Han pounced on you and began to tickle the sides of your torso. You screeched and the bag went flying backwards. Candy littered the carpet, but neither of you cared. As you laughed and squirmed, a grin grew on his face. 

He liked you for you and nobody was going to take that away from him. 

_ _ _

Felix: 

“Goodnight,” you mumbled as you climbed into bed beside Felix. 

“Goodnight, honey.” His eyes were glued down to his Nintendo Switch. He was saving his game when a flash of white caught his eyes. 

He glanced over with a raised eyebrow. You shifted further beneath the blankets to get comfortable. A white sock hat had slipped over your head. Confusion began to fill him as he watched you.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes. Felix put away his device and slipped beneath the covers towards you. “Honey, why are you wearing a hat to bed?” 

“My forehead is too big.” 

“What?” 

“My hairline is receding and you can’t see it now. You don’t have to look at my five-head this way. I’m saving your precious eyes from damage.” 

“There is nothing wrong with yo-” 

“Oh, you can say that now, but you haven’t seen what the last hairstyle I did looked like. More hair fell out and I’m fucked. I should get this hat super glued to my head.” 

“That’s an awful idea, honey.” 

“I’d be doing you a favor.”

“It can’t be that bad.” 

“Yes, it can. I look like an old fuck! I’m still so young and yet it keeps falling out. I look like Megamind.” 

“Well…Megamind is cute to some people.” 

The scrunched up look on your face made him roll over and bury his face into the bed to stop from laughing. You playfully whacked his shoulder and spun around. Jerking the blanket around you tighter, you pulled away. 

“Wait!” He cried out and pulled himself up. “Where are you going? No, no, no! Don’t do that! Don’t leave me! Baby, please, I’m sorry!” He rolled closer and wrapped his arms around your back.

“You’re being mean,” you mumbled. 

“I know and I’m sorry. I wasn’t lying though. I’d love you even if you were bald. Do you know why it’s happening?” 

“I don’t know, but I feel like a failure. Maybe it’s the dying and bleaching of my hair or maybe it’s genetics. Maybe I really am getting old.” 

“No, you’re not getting old. I mean you are, but you’re making it sound like you’re ancient.” 

“I feel like it.” 

“How about this? Tomorrow I’ll talk to the stylist that does my hair. I’ll ask her if she can recommend something. If that doesn’t work, maybe we can try something else. Try not to worry too much. You’re still beautiful, I promise.” 

“Seungmin would laugh at me and compare me to Chan.” 

“But you’re not dating Seungmin, you’re dating me and I love you just the way you are.” He reached back, flipped off the light, slipped his hand down, and gently pulled off your hat. 

“I can’t see you in the dark, but I know that can’t be too comfortable. Plus, it might pull on your hair and make it worse. Focus on my cuddles instead.” 

“You’re like a koala.” 

He laughed and curled his body tighter around yours. “Yeah, but you love me and my koala cuddles.” 

“Always.” 

_ _ _

Seungmin: 

He didn’t mean to catch you in the bathroom, but he did. You smiled and then frowned. Your mouth contoured in another way and then you frowned again. Over and over it went and it happened. 

“Hey you, what are you doing?” He stepped further into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around your waist. His chin rested on top of your head. 

“Do I smile funny to you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“A trio of girls asked me for a photo earlier since I’m your significant other. As they were walking away, one of them said that I smiled funny.” 

“You look funny too.” 

Hurt flashed in your eyes and Seungmin’s grip around you constricted. “Baby, I’m kidding. You know I love how you look and I love your smile.” 

“My teeth could be straighter.” 

“Don’t do that. Who cares? Plenty of people have crooked teeth. They make you unique and-” 

“That didn’t make me feel any better.” 

“I could always shove my tongue in your mouth via french kissing.” 

“Seungmin!” 

“If I’ve learned to like my smile, you have to learn to like yours. We have cute smiles and the next time I hear you say something bad, you can choke on my tongue.” 

“When you put it like that, that’s disgusting.” 

“And so is self-hatred. We’re hot and sexy and people wish they were us.” He stood up straighter, kept his arm around the front of your waist, and pulled out his phone. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. 

He pulled up his camera and pointed it at the mirror. “Smile big for me, baby. I’m gonna send this to the group chat and remind the guys what they’re missing out on.” 

_ _ _

I.N: 

An eagle screech and a loud crash came from the kitchen. It jerked I.N out of the livestream that he was in. He quickly apologized to the fans, insisted he’d be back soon, and ended the live. Rushing into the kitchen, he called your name worriedly. 

He stopped once he got in the kitchen. You were in tears and standing on top of the counter top. Your bare arms and legs were speckled bright red. He was worried he was bleeding until he realized that the scent of tomatoes hung in the air. 

Glancing down, a jar of pasta sauce sat shattered all over the floor. It was everywhere too. It was on the floor and slathered the hardwood. It dotted the fridge and a large puddle mapped out in every direction. 

“What happened?” 

“I couldn’t reach the stupid sauce! I hate being short! I hate it!” 

“Oh, you poor thing.” He walked around the mess and came over to you. 

Since you reached adulthood, you’ve always been short for your age. Due to genetics, you barely made it past five feet. Everything was a struggle when you were short. 

I.N naturally put things on the shelf and you couldn’t reach them. The two of you had a taller fridge and you could reach the bottom freezer just fine. The upper shelf that the milk and bottled drinks went on was another story. 

When you went out with I.N on a busy day, you always had to cling tight to his hand. You were always afraid you’d get lost in the crowds. You hated being so short. In your eyes, there was nothing good about it. 

“Are you injured?” 

“My height has been injured since birth.” 

“I’m being serious. Were you cut by the glass? Do I need to take you to the hospital?” 

“I should sue my parents for emotional distress.” 

“Come here, baby.” He carefully lifted you up and off the counter. 

“You’re going to get sauce on you.” 

“I don’t care. Let me get sauced up, I can always shower. Let’s go get you cleaned up and out of these tomato covered clothes.” 

You felt like crying again. You were having one of those days where it felt like everything had been going wrong. Too many things had built up and this was your breaking point. Frustration and annoyance had built up and now you were left defeated. 

“There’s nothing good about being short,” you mumbled. 

“I don’t think that’s true. Just because you’re short, it doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing. Changbin is short too, remember? A lot of the band is short and-” 

“They’re all taller than me.” 

“But for our group, we’re pretty short. You don’t think we get intimidated when we see our taller seniors? How about award ceremonies? Imagine talking to a reporter that’s multiple inches taller. I feel short sometimes too, but you know what?” 

“Huh?” 

“You don’t have to let your height define you. Sure, you might be short, but I bet tall people wish they were your size sometimes. When you’re super tall, you get noticed a lot.” 

“But I could be average height.” 

“And I’m glad you’re not. It makes it easier to find you in crowds. I’m always looking down and I’m forced to remember what your shoes look like. I get to notice things, like your clothes, that I might not pay too much attention to if you were taller.” 

“Plus, you’re good at hide and seek. In cars, airplanes, and trains, you have more room to spread out because you’re shorter. It’s better than being taller and feeling like you have little room.” 

“I guess I didn’t think of that.” 

“Plus, you have a shorter range of motion. If you ever get violent with someone, you don’t have to hit very far. Taller people tend to have longer limbs.” 

“I see your points.” 

“I already know that you shop in the kids section for your jeans. Technically, you get to save money because that stuff is cheaper.” 

“Oh, yeah!” You smiled. “How does it feel to pay full price for jeans?” 

“It makes me feel broke afterwards.” 

“You have so much money!” 

“So? Doesn’t mean I like paying so much on a good pair of jeans! If you can complain about being short, I can complain about the price of jeans. They’re outrageous!” 

He continued rambling on and on while leading you to the bathroom. By the time he got there, he was angry and out of breath. He put you down and huffed. 

“Innie?” 

“What?” 

“I love you.” 

He blinked and a smile began to fill his cheeks. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too or whatever.”

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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#stray kids #stray kids drabbles #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #bang chan #lee know #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz comfort #bang chan fic #lee know fic #changbin fic #hyunjin fic #han jisung fic #lee felix fic #kim seungmin fic #yang jeongin fic

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Does Patrick confront Y/N after finding out she slept with Art? What happens then?

So Y/N leaves the hotel after the game and doesn’t talk to Patrick about anything. She doesn’t give him time to, she’s gone just like that. She doesn’t want to talk about it because they both did the unspeakable and although she only did it cuz Patrick did it first she still knew that it was wrong but it felt so right. Patrick tried calling her several times after that but she didn’t answer. He did confront Art. It was after the game and since Y/N was no longer there and Art was so he wanted answers. “Cuz you fucked my wife first! Twice behind my back.” Art growled at him. “So you get Y/N to sleep with you to get back at me?” He asked with a snort. “Actually it was Y/N’s idea.” Patrick’s face dropped. “She wanted to do it in your guys hotel room on the side that you slept on.” He got in Patrick’s face. “I fucked your wife Patrick. Right where you sleep.” Patrick was raging at the thought. “And you know what’s even better? She wanted you to know. She wanted me to tell you and so I did, in our own little way.” Art smirked. “You’re sick.” “I’m sick? I’m the one who’s sick? You’re the one who cheated on such a beautiful woman.” He yelled. Patrick knew that Art was right but even then did he feel so upset and betrayed. “I’m divorcing Tashi, Patrick.” That snapped him out of his thoughts. “What?” “You can have her for all I care. Not that you would care about my feelings towards the situation.” Patrick huffed at that. “But then after the divorce I’m gonna to find Y/N and I’m going to fuck her again and again until she forgets about you and she’s all mine. At the end of the day you weren’t deserving of either of them, were you?” And he walked away. Leaving Patrick with anger and shock.

#challengers movie #challengers 2024 #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig x you #tashi duncan #zendaya #josh o'connor #mike faist

[worldlxvlys]

running

part seven of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of sex

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

ever since the day he apologized, matt had been acting weird. there was a very obvious tension between us, but neither of us said anything about it. his brothers on the other hand, were quick to point it out.

“ok, what’s up with you two? did you fuck again, or something?” chris asked, earning a quick hit and an incredulous look from nick. matt just rolled his eyes, answering with a brief “no”, before turning in the direction he came from.

he was distant and quicker to anger than he usually was. it seemed like the smallest things set him off, he was just so mad. his recent attitude has made me quite distant myself because being around him wasn’t very enjoyable.

he had his moments where he seemed like his usual self, but for the most part, he was miserable. of course i was aware that this was partially my fault, as right after our conversation about the night we slept together his entire demeanor changed.

i felt terrible, and i wanted nothing more than to help him feel better. but i tried to figure out what was wrong, and he just pushed me away. i wanted to be there for him, but he was a grown man at the end of the day. if i did or said something to upset him, he needed to communicate what that was.

so for the past week, we didn’t hang out unless it was with his brothers. we barely spoke two words to each other, and he couldn’t even look at me on the rare occasion that we did. i tried not to let it get to me, but he was supposed to be my best friend. now he couldn’t even be around me ?

MATT’S POV

just when i think i can’t possibly make things worse than they already are, i prove myself wrong. i somehow managed to completely drive y/n away, and now i couldn’t even look at her.

every time i saw her, i felt the shame and guilt eat away at me. i’ve treated her terribly for the past week, and now she couldn’t stand being around me.

at first i just wanted a little bit of distance, because i knew that the second i felt her soft fingers on my face or watched her plump lips pull into a smile, i would be gone. she’s constantly running through my thoughts, and i have no way of stopping it.

every day chris made these sly comments about how i should make a move on her before someone else did, and that pissed me off. his words constantly rang through my ears, and it made me paranoid.

every time she smiled at her phone and typed away at her screen, which was happening a lot more often recently, i got more and more annoyed. i did my best to push it down and ignore it, but it always seemed to make things worse.

whether she was talking to someone or not, she was growing more and more distant by the day. i found myself missing her when she was in the same room as me, which made me realize just how bad i let the situation get.

i decided to go over to her house to talk to her, knowing i had to clear the air. and that’s how i ended up here, standing at her doorstep anxiously, trying to gain the confidence to knock.

before i could force myself to do it, her door swung open. i must’ve looked like a deer in headlights, my eyes widened as she caught me off guard. she let out a chuckle at that, “i saw you on the doorbell camera, i thought i’d just make this easier for you”

well that’s embarrassing. “you saw that whole thing?” i asked, hoping it wasn’t true. when she nodded her head in response, i closed my eyes shaking my head slightly as i cursed myself. “it’s ok, matt. it was cute” she spoke, a small smile on her face.

i felt my face heat up while i prayed she didn’t notice the deep shade of red that my face turned at the comment. “come on” she motioned to the inside of her house, choosing not to comment on my flustered state.

READER’S POV

when i moved to the side to let matt in, i caught sight of a small paper bag in his hand while he passed me. he led the way to my room, pushing my door open and making himself comfortable on my bed.

“i was thinking we do a movie night?” he asked hopefully, emptying the bag of its contents; an array of different candies, snacks, and a drink for each of us.

whenever matt and i had a disagreement, our way of calling a truce was to have a movie night. we would take the time to talk it out and end off the night with cuddles and a movie.

“sounds perfect” i told him, grabbing the remote and moving to sit across from him. i passed him the remote when i felt my phone buzzing in my pocket. i pulled it out, opening it to see a text from the guy i’ve been talking to for the past week.

dylan 🤠

hey beautiful ;)

what are you up to ??

y/n ⭐️

abt to watch a movie with matt !!

“what movie should we watch?” matt asked, but i was barely able to register his words as i read the next text.

dylan 🤠

matt is your best friend right ?? i thought he wasn’t talking to you ??

y/n ⭐️

yeah movie nights are kinda like our way of calling a truce yk ??

dylan 🤠

ohhh i get u

y/n ⭐️

wbu ??

dylan 🤠

oh yk just texting this girl rn

a lil nervous tho ngl, she’s drop dead gorgeous

wayyyy out of my league

“hellooo? you gonna sit there and text all night or are we ever gonna talk?” matt’s annoyed voice pulled my attention away from my phone.

“hold on, i’m talking to someone right now. just give me a sec” i spoke, looking back down to my phone.

y/n ⭐️

who could you possibly be talking about 🤨

dylan 🤠

your mom :)

y/n ⭐️

that wasn’t funny

dylan 🤠

i laughed

y/n ⭐️

well that makes one of us

i watched as the three dots moved on the screen, before my phone was roughly pulled out of my hand. “what the fuck, matt ? give it back” i yelled as he moved it out of my reach.

i quickly moved over to him, climbing over his body to reach for the phone. he was quick to throw my phone onto my carpeted floor, grabbing my wrists before i could move to get it.

“who was that?” he asked, looking up at me. “none of your damn business” i answered. “considering you’re too busy looking down at your phone to talk to me, i’d say it is”

i let out a dry chuckle at that, “now you wanna talk ? that’s new. usually you just bottle up your feelings and throw a hissy fit instead of telling me what the issue is” i spoke, glaring down at him. my phone vibrated on its spot in the floor, but i ignored it.

“why are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed. “i’m not, this is what it looks like when you act like an adult and talk about things. i know that might be a little foreign to you” i jeered, his face dropping at the comment.

when i heard my phone vibrate again, i went to go pick it up, but was stopped as matt’s hands gripped onto my waist firmly, pulling me down onto his lap.

“look, i obviously hurt you and i’m really sorry for that-” he started, stopping as my phone continued to vibrate on the floor. “who the hell is blowing up your phone like that?” he started, starting to become annoyed again.

“it’s no one” i answered.

“who is it?” he posed his words as a question, but it sounded more like an order.

“nobody”

“why are you lying?” he asked, receiving a sigh from me. he just wasn’t gonna let it go.

“it’s just this guy i’m talking to” i answered. before i could even process what was happening, matt had flipped us over so that he was the one one top.

“what’s his name?” matt asked, his hands tightly clenching the sheets on either side of my head. my eyes trailed down to his tatted arm, watching as it flexed when he shifted his weight onto it.

“his name doesn’t matter” i answered, willing myself to look anywhere but at his lips. it was tempting, the short distance between us making it hard to focus on anything else.

“is there anything you can tell me about him?” matt asked.

“yeah. he’s not confused.” i answered without thinking, the words slipping out before i could stop them. “he’s made his feelings for me clear” i finished.

“his feelings? he’s only known you for…what, a week?” he asked, tilting his head at me. “he knows what he wants matt” i shrugged, “do you?” i asked.

the question seemed to catch him off guard, as he didn’t utter a word. instead, his eyes dropped down to my lips for a split second, jumping back to my own eyes quickly.

“don’t do that” i stopped him, “don’t look at me like you want to kiss me. we both know you don’t” i told him, turning my head away from him.

he was quick to place his hand on my cheek, moving my face so i was looking at him while he spoke. “why would you think that?” he asked, his eyes softening.

“why would you keep running away from me if you did?” i asked, trying my best not to show how hurt i actually was. i blinked back the tears i felt beginning to form, taking a deep breath.

matt picked up on my shift in mood, immediately moving to sit next to me. “fuck, i’m sorry. i’m sorry” he whispered repeatedly, pulling me into a hug. “it’s not on purpose, i swear. and it’s definitely not your fault, the last thing i ever wanted was to hurt you” i cried silently in his arms, his hands squeezing my waist tightly.

he pulled away to look at me, wiping away my tears with his thumbs. “is there something wrong with me?” i asked, needing an answer to the question i’d been asking myself constantly throughout the week. why? why was he avoiding me like the plague? what did i do to deserve this?

“of course not. this is my fault, it’s not you. i’m just confused and i have no clue what to do. i don’t know what i want, and i didn’t know how to deal with-” he stopped abruptly, like he was about to slip up and say something he didn’t want me to hear.

“i just didn’t want to hurt you while i was figuring out my shit, so i distanced myself from you. i know it was wrong, but i didn’t know what to do. and then i realized you were talking to someone and it just made me so mad, but i shouldn’t have taken it out on you”

“you’re jealous? matt, it’s not like he’s replacing you. he’s just a new friend” i pointed out. “i’m right here, i’m still your best friend. and you can always talk to me about anything. you know that, right?” i asked.

“yeah, i know. but are you sure you’re just friends? you said he has feelings for you” matt spoke, looking down as he spoke the last sentence. “is he the only one?” i asked bluntly, tired of beating around the bush.

matt’s head snapped up at the call-out, his lips turning upwards into a small smile. “i-” he was cut off by his phone ringing in his pocket. he looked like he wanted to continue, but i stopped him, “just answer it, it’s ok” i nodded to him, watching him pull it out.

“it’s chris” he sighed out, before hitting the answer button. while he spoke to chris, i heard my own phone vibrate on the ground. i glanced over to matt, who was fully engrossed in his conversation, before grabbing it off of the floor.

i opened it to several unopened texts from dylan, but the last one is what stood out to me;

dylan 🤠

hey, you home? i’m at your door ;)

what the fuck? he knew i was home, i told him that matt and i were having a movie night.

i glanced over to matt, as he hung up the phone. “he was just asking if i wanted anything from target” he informed me, putting his phone down.

he noticed my widened eyes, his face filling with concern, “what’s wrong?” he asked, walking towards me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“um, my….uh-” i was cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing. “here, i’ll get it for you” he spoke, walking out of the room before i could stop him.

“wait, matt-” i started, a few feet behind him. by the time i caught up to him, the door was already open, matt and dylan were face-to-face with each other.

“hey, i’m dylan. you must be matt” he almost seemed amused at matt’s confused face.

“hey, baby” he spoke to me, earning a cold stare from matt as he realized who the man in front of him was. his jaw was clenched tightly as he turned his gaze to me, his eyebrows raised.

shit.

hehehe

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[doctorbitchcrxft]

Route 666 | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, j e a l o u s y, d e n i a l

Word Count: 4325

Series Rewrite Masterlist

After your conversation with Dean about why you couldn’t lose him, a nagging want was tugging on your heart. 

Dean explained to you that the father of an “old friend” of his was killed last night. Your stomach dropped; knowing exactly what “old friend” meant. 

Sam did, too. “By old friend you mean...?”

“A friend that's not new,” came Dean’s gruff response. His eyes never left the road.

“Oh yeah, thanks,” Sam deadpanned. “So her name's Cassie, huh? You never mentioned her.”

“Didn't I? Yeah, we went out.”

You felt like you could throw up.

“You mean you dated somebody? For more than one night?” Sam commented.

“Am I speaking a language you're not getting here? Dad and I were working a job in Ohio, she was finishing up college. We went out for a coupla weeks,” Dean explained.

Sam pressed further, but you silently begged him to stop. You hoped his mind powers would kick in long enough to read the way your heart was begging for mercy in the backseat. “And...?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“Look, it's terrible about her dad, but it kinda sounds like a standard car accident. I'm not seeing how it fits with what we do. Which by the way, how does she know what we do?”

Dean shifted uncomfortably.

‘He told her.’ You were definitely going to throw up now.

“You told her. You told her the secret! Our big family rule number one. We do what we do and we shut up about it. For a year and a half I do nothing but lie to Jessica, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times and you tell her everything? Dean!” Sam was getting angrier by the second.

“Yeah, looks like,” Dean grumbled. 

This job would undoubtedly be an incredibly painful one.

***

You saw a beautiful dark-skinned girl arguing with two older men in the newspaper office you and the boys had arrived at. You silently pleaded for it not to be Cassie. She was stunning; nothing but long legs and slender curves. Her dark hair curled tightly, framing her face beautifully. The girl sighed and turned around as the two men walked away from her. She seemed taken aback. “Dean.”

You recognized the fondness in her eyes; it was the same fondness you were beginning to look at Dean with. 

‘Of course, she’s fucking gorgeous. Wouldn’t expect anything else from Dean,’ you thought.

“Hey, Cassie,” Dean grinned. The two stared at each other for a moment before he cleared his throat. “This is my brother, Sam, and this is my friend, (Y/N).”

You tried your best to smile at her; the girl had done nothing wrong. It was Dean you were beginning to get upset with.

“Sorry ‘bout your dad,” Dean said.

“Yeah. Me too,” Cassie muttered.

The two kept staring at each other. 

You cleared your throat awkwardly, and Cassie seemed to snap out of it. “Sorry,” she laughed. “Let’s take this somewhere a bit more… private.”

***

Cassie took you back to her home and brought you a tray of tea and cups. “My mother’s in pretty bad shape. I've been staying with her. I wish she wouldn't go off by herself. She's been so nervous and frightened. She was worried about dad.”

“Why?” Dean asked.

She gracefully poured some tea into a cup. “He was scared. He was seeing things.”

“Like what?”

“He swore he saw an awful-looking black truck following him,” the young woman explained.

“A truck. Who was the driver?” Sam questioned.

Cassie handed cups of tea to each of you. You took one, thanking her as you did so. “He didn't talk about a driver,” she continued. “Just the truck. He said it would appear and disappear. And, in the accident, Dad's car was dented, like it had been slammed into by something big.”

“Now you're sure this dent wasn't there before?”

“He sold cars. Always drove a new one. There wasn't a scratch on that thing. It had rained hard that night. There was mud everywhere. There was a distinct set of muddy tracks leading from dad's car… leading right to the edge, where he went over.” The girl took a second to get her emotions back under control. “One set of tracks. His.”

“The first was a friend of your fathers?” Dean had discarded his cup on a side table. The sight almost made you smile; you knew tea was a bit too fancy for him. 

“Best friend. Clayton Soames. They owned the car dealership together. Same thing. Dent. No Tracks. And the cops said exactly what they said about dad. He 'lost control of his car.' “

“Can you think of any reason why your father and his partner might be targets?”

Cassie shook her head.

“And you think this vanishing truck ran them off the road?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows.

“When you say it aloud like that…” Cassie breathed deeply. “Listen, I'm a little skeptical about this… ghost stuff… or whatever it is you guys are into.”

Dean huffed. “Skeptical. If I remember, I think you said I was nuts.”

‘Uh, oh,’ you thought, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“That was then.” Cassie and Dean stared at each other again. “I just know that I can't explain what happened up there. So I called you.”

A middle-aged woman entered the room. Cassie rushed to her. “Mom. Where have you been I was so…”

Cassie’s mom forced a smile. “I had no idea you’d invited friends over.”

“Mom, this is Dean, a… friend of mine from.... college. And his brother Sam and friend, (Y/N).”

“Well, I won't interrupt you.” Cassie’s mom went to leave the room.

“Mrs Robinson. We're sorry for your loss. We'd like to talk to you for a minute if you don't mind?” Dean stopped her.

The woman seemed slightly affronted. “I'm really not up for that right now.” She left the room, and Dean and Cassie continued to stare at each other.

***

The next day, Dean informed you of another killing that happened in a field beside the main road. Another one of Cassie’s father’s friends had been murdered. You met the beautiful woman who was bravely berating the mayor for not closing the main road; heavily suggesting there was a racist undertone behind the mayor’s motives. You admired the woman’s bravery, and wished you had those kinds of balls in certain situations. Had the circumstances been different, you probably would have been good friends with her.

You and the boys learned from a friend of the deceased that the town once was home to a family with an incredibly racist history. In fact, the big black truck the victims had described seeing was one that many black men disappeared in back in the 1960s. You and the boys walked away from the men you learned this information from and returned to the Impala.

“Truck,” Dean noted.

“Keeps coming up doesn't it?” Sam added.

“Yeah, kinda like the flying dutchman,” you continued.

“Yeah, that ghost ship, infused with the Captain's evil spirit. It was basically part of him,” the younger Winchester finished.

Dean nodded. “So what if we're dealing with the same thing? You know, a phantom truck, an extension of some bastard's ghost, re-enacting past crimes.”

“The victims have all been black men,” noted Sam.

“I think it's more than that. They all seem connected to Cassie and her family,” Dean suggested.

“Alright, well, you work that angle, go talk to her,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I will.”

Sam stopped his brother before he could get down into the car. “Oh, and you might also wanna mention that other thing.”

‘Stop talking, Sam,’ you mentally pleaded.

“What other thing?” Dean asked.

“The serious, unfinished business?”

The older brother remained silent, and for that, you were thankful.

“Dean, what is going on between you two?” Sam huffed out a laugh.

Dean seemed uncomfortable, as were you. “Alright, so maybe we were a little bit more involved than I said.”

“Really?” you said, unable to help yourself.

“Okay, a lot more. Maybe. And I told her our secret, about what we do. And I shouldn't have.”

“Ah, look man, everybody's gotta open up to someone sometime,” Sam shrugged.

“Yeah, I don't. It was stupid to get that close. I mean, look how it ended.”

The younger brother smiled. 

“Would you stop!”

Sam just kept staring and smiling.

“Blink or something!”

The brunet simply said, “You loved her.”

You nearly choked on your own spit as Dean grumbled and turned to the Impala.

“You were in love with her, but you dumped her.” Sam paused a moment before realizing, “Oh, wow. She dumped you.”

“Get in the car. Get in the car!” Dean ordered you and Sam.

You refused to continue to let Dean have that effect on you. There was no room for feelings in this profession, and you would not let them get in the way of your friendship with Dean or Sam. The former dropped you and his brother off at the motel before speeding away to Cassie’s house. You and Sam decided to get takeout and have a carpet picnic in the brothers’ motel room.

You chowed down on fried rice while Sam eyed you curiously. “What?” you asked through a mouthful of rice.

“Nothing. You just seem off,” he replied.

“I don’t know, honestly. After… everything that’s happened, I—” you couldn’t finish your sentence. “Nevermind. What’s your thoughts on this case?”

He gave you a bitchface at your change in the subject, but went along with it nonetheless. “I think our theory about the flying dutchman’s right. I’m just waiting for Dean to fill in the missing pieces.” He paused before continuing. “Speaking of which, I don’t think he’ll be back for the night? You wanna crash here?”

You smiled. “Sure. Wanna get some cheap tequila and ride the bus?” 

“You’re on,” he grinned back.

The two of you played with your deck of cards for a bit, joking and laughing about previous hunts and memories from Sam’s school days. After getting thoroughly hammered from your card game, you just talked for hours.

“My parents weren’t always… crazy supportive of me,” you explained. “I get your whole thing with college, though.” 

“You do?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “I wanted to go to school as a teenager, actually. Was dead set on it.”

He grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah, but after my parents passed, I decided I’m better at hunting,” you replied, flopping back on the ground. “You’re hella argumentative. You’d be an exceptional lawyer.”

He chuckled at you, slurring his words together. “You really think so?”

“Yeah! Duh!”

“You’re not ever this giddy, (Y/N), how much did we drink?”

The two of you looked over at the mostly empty bottle of tequila before exploding into a fit of giggles. 

“I don’t think I’ve been this drunk ever,” you slurred.

“Yeah, ne meither,” Sam said simply.

You burst out laughing again. “Ne meither?!”

“Oops,” he giggled boyishly.

“Wait, wait, wait. I have a question. You went to school with a full ride, right? How’d you get a full ride and hunt at the same time? That’s fucking crazy.”

He nodded. “Yeah. My dad took me on hunts every once in a while between AP Bio tests.”

“Holy shit, you’re smart.”

He sighed. “Not as smart as you’d think.”

“Cut the humble crap, you’re crazy smart,” you replied, turning to him. “You give me a run for my money sometimes. Trust me, that’s rare.”

He shrugged. “I guess you’re right.”

“Seriously, dude. You gotta be crazy gifted. You’re a great hunter and really smart. That’s a wild combination.”

“Yeah, well, so are you,” Sam replied. 

You grinned, barely holding your eyes open. “Thanks.” You paused a moment. “You ever smoked weed?”

He snorted. “Of course.”

You mock-gasped. “Sammy, never thought you were the type!”

“Pfft, I’m not a total prude, (Y/N).”

“Well, forgive me, you don’t exactly scream ‘I chase my tequila with mary jane,’ “ you jested.

“College, man. Whole new world.”

“What was it like?” you asked.

“Meh,” he squeaked, voice breaking drunkenly. “Lots of studying. Jess was the one who got me into partying a little.”

“Yeahhh, Jess!” you cheered. “She sounds cool as fuck.”

“She was.” He suddenly got sad and sniffed a little.

You crawled over to him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring bad shit up for you.”

He sniffed again and shrugged. “‘S okay, I jus’ miss her.”

“I know.” You laid your head on his shoulder and let him cry as the two of you sat next to each other in silence.

***

The next morning and thoroughly hungover, you and Sam headed to yet another field; where this time, the mayor’s car had been found. And it was in a different location than the main road. Dean met you a short time later once you’d finished talking to a cop on the scene. 

“Where were you last night? You didn't make it back to the hotel,” Sam questioned, although the subtle smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.

“Well…”

Sam grinned smugly. “I'm guessing you guys worked things out?”

“We'll be working things out when we're ninety. So what happened?”

“We got really drunk,” you muttered.

“What?” Dean looked down at you. 

Sam shook his head. “Every bone crushed. Internal organ's turned to pudding. The cops are all stumped, it's like something ran him over.”

“Something like a truck?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded and explained there had been no tracks. He went on to say that the mayor had bought the property he was murdered on a few weeks ago; which was odd given he was white and found off the main road.

Cassie and Dean were considerably more chummy after their eventful evening, and it made your stomach turn a little. He insisted on being dropped off at the newspaper office Cassie worked at while you and Sam did research on the property the mayor had purchased at the library.

You discovered the mayor’s land was where the Dorian family had lived for over one hundred years. Apparently, their incredibly racist and firebrand son had disappeared just after the string of murders back in the 1960s. Cassie explained how the Dorians owned pretty much everything in the town before Cyrus, their son, disappeared. Weeks after the mayor bought the property, he knocked the house down. The very next day, the first killing started.

***

Amidst your throbbing headache and the research you'd done, you parted ways with the brothers to rest in your motel room. You settled on reorganizing your duffel bag to keep your mind occupied, but it still wandered to Dean and Cassie. You knew you'd been cold to Dean all day, and you just hoped he was too preoccupied with his fling to even notice.

Of course, that was simply wishful thinking. A knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts.

Dean opened the door a moment later and stepped into your room wordlessly. He began to pace a little.

"Are... you okay—?" you started to ask, but he cut you off.

"What's your deal?"

"What?" you pretended to be dumbfounded.

"I caught what you said about getting drunk with Sam last night. Did you... fuck my brother?" he asked, voice teetering on rageful.

"God, no, Winchester," you scoffed. "Not everyone's intentions are sexual 24/7. We literally just played a drinking game and talked."

"Then, what's with your fucking attitude? You've been a bitch to me all day," he replied, shoulders tense.

"Have not, first of all," you began. "Trust me, if I was upset with you, you'd know about it."

"What, then? Is this about Cassie?" he questioned pointedly, staring you down.

"Dean, has it occured to you that not everything has to do with you?" you spat, becoming incredibly defensive. "I'm pissy because I'm hungover. And right now, you are making my headache a thousand times worse."

"Sorry that I was concerned about you, then," he responded flippantly.

"You weren't concerned," you laughed coldly. "You came here looking for a fight. Well, now you've got one. I like Cassie a lot, actually. Different circumstances, we'd be good friends. What I don't like is how unprofessionally you're acting."

"We fucking hunt monsters for a living, (Y/N)," Dean argued. "There's not exactly a code of ethics."

"Well, you should have some desire to conduct yourself in a professional manner. Because your main motivation on every fucking hunt doesn't seem to be hunting, it seems to be getting your dick wet," you berated, even though you knew your words were not reflective of your true thoughts of him.

"Sorry that I'm not a stuck-up bitch like you are," Dean scoffed. "You are completely miserable to be around. You always have something to be angry about. Don't you ever get tired of sucking the life outta everyone?"

You cut your eyes at him harshly, rage boiling under your skin. "Get the fuck out of my room, Winchester," you said evenly.

When he didn't move, it just added to your anger.

"I said get the fuck out!"

***

You and the Winchesters were called to Cassie’s house later that evening when she’d called Dean in a panic about the truck appearing outside of her home. You hated the way Dean sat with his arm protectively around Cassie, especially after your incredibly awkward car ride to her house where he couldn't seem to bare looking at you. He acted like you weren't in the backseat at all.

You handed Cassie a cup of tea, which she took with shaky hands. “Maybe you could throw a couple of shots in that.”

You snorted. “You didn’t see who was driving the truck?”

“It seemed to be no one. Everything was moving so fast. And then it was just gone. Why didn't it kill us?” Cassie questioned.

“Whoever was controlling the truck wants you afraid first,” Dean grumbled. 

Sam turned to Cassie’s mother. “Mrs Robinson, Cassie said that your husband saw the truck before he died.”

The older woman was shaking, pulled away from reality into her own thoughts. When her daughter’s voice brought her back to earth, Mrs. Robinson began to explain. “Oh. Martin was under a lot of stress. You can't be sure about what he was seeing.”

“Well, after tonight I think we can be reasonably sure he was seeing a truck. What happened tonight, you and Cassie are marked. Okay? Your daughter could die.” You knew Dean cared about her, and selfishly, you wanted him to be that worried about you; not her. “So if you know something, now would be a really good time to tell us about it.”

Cassie went to silence Dean, but Mrs. Robinson took in a shaky breath. “Yes. Yes, he said he saw a truck.”

“Did he know who it belonged to?” you asked her.

“He thought he did,” she nodded. She began to get upset. “Cyrus. A man named Cyrus.”

“Cyrus Dorian?” you questioned.

“Cyrus Dorian died more than 40 years ago.”

Now, you had her. “The paper said he went missing, Mrs. Robinson. How do you know he died?”

She refused to answer.

“Mrs. Robinson, please,” you urged.

She began to talk again, getting visibly more upset. “We were all very young. I dated Cyrus a while; I was also seeing Martin. In secret of course. Interracial couples didn't go over too well back then. When I broke it off with Cyrus, and when he found out about Martin, I don't know, he… changed. His hatred. His hatred was frightening.”

“The murders,” Sam noted.

You saw tears forming at the edges of the woman’s eyes. “There were rumors. People of color disappearing into some kind of a truck. Nothing was ever done. Martin and a... Martin and I, we were gonna be, uh, married in that little church near here, but last minute we decided to elope as we didn't want the attention.”

“And Cyrus?” Dean prompted.

“The day we set for the wedding, was the day someone set fire to the church. There was a children's choir practicing in there. They all died.” Mrs. Robinson clapped a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes.

“Did the attacks stop after that?” Sam asked softly.

She shook her head as she continued to sob. “No! There was one more. One night, that truck came for Martin. Cyrus beat him something terrible. But Martin, you see, Martin got loose. And he started hitting Cyrus and he just kept hitting him and hitting him.”

“Why didn't you call the cops?” Dean questioned.

Mrs. Robinson looked at Dean like he was crazy. “This was forty years ago. He called on his friends, Clayton Soames and Jimmy Anderson, and they put Cyrus' body into the truck, and they rolled it into the swamp at the end of his land, and all three of them kept that secret all of these years.”

“And now all three are gone,” Sam said.

“And so is Mayor Todd. Now, he said that you of all people would know he is not a racist. Why would he say that?” Dean asked.

“He was a good man. He was a young deputy back then investigating Cyrus' disappearance. Once he figured out what Martin and the others had done he— he did nothing, because he also knew what Cyrus had done.”

Cassie spoke up for the first time in a while. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“I thought I was protecting them. And now there's no one left to protect.” She put her head down in her hands.

“Yes, there is,” Dean said, looking down at Cassie. Mrs. Robinson looked at her daughter as well before breaking down crying once more.

You and Sam left the home shortly after to get to work on finding the truck and disposing of it. Dean paced in front of you, waiting for Cassie to come bid you goodbye. You leaned against the Impala, picking at imaginary dirt under your nails. You just needed something to focus on that wasn’t Dean and your jealousy.

“Ah, my life was so simple. Just school, exams, papers on polycentric cultural norms,” Sam spoke up next to you.

“So I guess we saved you from a boring existence,” Dean smirked.

“Yeah, occasionally I miss boring,” he grinned down at you.

“So, this killer truck—” Dean began before getting cut off by his brother.

“I miss conversations that didn't start with 'this killer truck'.”

Dean laughed a little. “Well, this Cyrus guy. Evil on a level that infected even his truck. When he died, the swamp became his tomb, and his spirit was dormant for forty years.”

“So what woke it up?” Sam questioned.

“The construction on his house,” you shrugged. “Or, rather, destruction.”

“Right. Demolition or remodeling can awaken spirits, make them restless.”

Dean hummed. “And the guy that tore down the family homestead, Harold Todd, is the same guy that kept Cyrus' murder quiet and unsolved.”

“So now his spirit is awakened and out for blood,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I guess. Who knows what ghosts are thinking anyway.”

“You know we're going to have to dredge that body up from the swamp, right?"

Dean grinned, and you smirked despite the swirling emotions inside you. You hated how easily those green eyes and freckles could make any negative feelings you had dissipate.

“Man,” Sam groaned.

“You said it,” Dean continued to grin. 

Cassie approached your group from her house, and Dean turned to face her.

“Hey. She's asleep. Now what?” she asked Dean.

“Well, you should stay put and look after her, and we'll be back. Don't leave the house.” Dean held up a finger at her, standing way too close to her for your liking.

“Don't go getting all authoritative on me. I hate it,” she said seductively.

Dean glanced behind himself to you and Sam. You both averted your eyes while you held back the bile rising in your throat.

“Don't leave the house, please?” Dean mumbled. Suddenly, the two were kissing. You looked up at them and leaned over to Sam.

“It’s like watching a car crash,” you whispered. “With, like, kids burning in the backseat.”

Sam laughed at you and cleared his throat. Dean simply held up a finger back to you, urging you to “wait a minute.”

“You comin' or what?” Dean awkwardly rubbed his neck after he pulled away from Cassie, and you envied her ability to make Dean blush the way she had.

The drive to the Dorian property largely consisted of Sam teasing Dean about Cassie while you said nothing. Dean used a tractor that was on the property from the construction to pull the submerged truck out of the water.

Sam continued to tease Dean about how he was definitely still in love with Cassie while you continued to focus on your work. You doused the corpse in Cyrus’s truck once you’d gotten it on the ground with kerosene and watched as it burned.

“All business tonight, huh, (Y/N)?” Dean taunted, still clearly upset with you.

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’m not particularly interested in who or what you choose to put your dick in,” you responded coldly.

“Hey!—” 

You turned to him, eyes hard. “Seriously. Let’s focus, please.”

Sam eyed you curiously while you continued to watch the corpse burn. Suddenly, the truck appeared behind you and the brothers, revving its engine.

“So burning the body had no effect on that thing?” Sam questioned, panicked.

“I guess not,” you shrugged.

“Sure it did. Now it's really pissed,” Dean snarked.

“Great! He’s fused with the fucking truck,” you huffed. “Where are you going?” Dean was retreating to his car.

“Goin' for a little ride,” he responded.

“What?!”

“Gonna lead that thing away. That busted piece of crap: you gotta burn it.”

“How the fuck are we supposed to burn a truck, Dean?” you argued.

“I don't know. Figure something out.” He threw the duffel bag in the trunk at you before getting in and taking off.

“What the f—” you watched his retreating form.

“You sure you’re okay, (Y/N/N)?” Sam asked you. “You seem pretty on edge.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, dude, let’s focus.” You thought for a moment before getting an idea. 

“Hey, you gotta give me a minute,” Sam said to his brother who had called him. “Let me get back to you.” He hung up.

You turned to Sam. “The church where Cyrus butchered those kids.”

He grinned. “Hallowed ground. That should work!” He called Cassie and had her tell him where the church had once stood.

Sam then called his panicking brother back and instructed him on exactly how far to drive to hopefully demolish the ghost. “Dean. You still there? Dean?”

He breathed a sigh of relief when his brother spoke to him again. “Dean, you're where the church was. The place Cyrus burned down. Murdered all those kids. Church ground is hallowed ground; whether the church is still there or not. Evil spirits cross over hallowed ground, sometimes they're destroyed, so we figured, maybe that would get rid of it.”

Even though he wasn’t on speaker, you could hear Dean’s panic. “Maybe? Maybe! What if you were wrong?”

Sam smirked. “Huh. Honestly that thought hadn't occurred to me.”

***

You didn't make it back to the motel until almost two in the morning. Dean was still completely ignoring your existence, and he was beginning to follow Sam into their room. You stopped him just before he could.

"Dean, wait," you called out after him, resolve breaking.

"What," he almost growled, turning back to you.

"Can we talk?" you asked, eyes pleading.

Dean didn't say anything in response for a moment, and you held your breath while you waited for him to talk. Finally, he nodded slightly.

"I'm sorry," you said earnestly. "For everything that I said earlier."

He nodded. "I am, too. You're not completely misreable to be around. Only sometimes when you get bitchy." You could see the slight smirk on his face illuminated by the moonlight.

You rolled your eyes with a small smile. "You can never take anhthing seriously, huh?"

"Hey, this is a chick-flick-moment-free zone."

"Seriously," you laughed, "I didn't mean what I said at all. You're... actually amazing. As a hunter, I mean," you quickly corrected yourself. "I know your first priority on hunts isn't sex."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Eh, you weren't one-hundred-percent wrong. Sorry about that."

You shrugged. "Makes no difference to me. Who or what you choose to fornicate with is your business. Even if it is the Magic Fingers machines at those nasty ass motels." A smile tugged on your lips.

He chuckled. "Well, anyway... goodnight, sweetheart." Dean turned on his heel and walked away from you, leaving you in the parking lot with a pounding heart and butterfly-filled stomach.

***

The next day, you and the brothers were leaving town. You and Sam waited in the car while Dean stood talking to Cassie. You, once again, couldn’t tear your eyes away from the horror show in front of you. He kissed her deeply before climbing down into the car. You had never been so thankful to leave a town in your rearview mirror.

The car had been mostly silent for the last thirty minutes before Sam broke it. “I like her.”

Dean grumbled, “Yeah,” in response.

“You meet someone like her, doesn't it makes you wonder if it's worth it? Putting everything else on hold, doing what we do?”

You watched Dean with bated breath, waiting anxiously for his answer. Instead of replying, he just took out his sunglasses and smiled. “Why don't you wake me up when it's my turn to drive?” He slouched against the window and sighed.

You shook your head and looked back out of your window, mulling over everything you’d felt during your time in Columbus. You knew feelings were not allowed in your line of work; certainly not relationships. You refused to let them interfere with your job any longer, and convinced yourself you would be perfectly content with Dean just being your friend.

After all, you'd already made it incredibly apparent that he was too much of a playboy for you. You would never be able to stomach a relationship with him because of how jealous of a person you were. And so, you decided that as long as you were with the boys, you would never, ever date Dean Winchester.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog

quite a few tags are broken :( sorry lovebugs!!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

[envysparkler]

au where the justice league is known and well established as Earth's official planetary defense system.  Batman was offered an invitation to join but he hissed at the idea of revealing his identity and said nope, you guys stay out of Gotham.  in return, the JL was like 'okay you can't leave Gotham then'.  for around a decade, Batman sticks to that rule, no real issues, but the JL gets bigger and bigger and it reaches a point that he knows, even with all his contingencies, he'll never be able to take them in a fight

Robin and Batman get into an argument because Robin wants to stretch his wings and Batman refuses to let him.  Robin leaves despite all of Batman's warnings and goes to NYC and cuts all contact.  a couple months later, there's a new hero who calls himself Nightwing who's on the JL.

Bruce freaks out and tries to call Dick, but Dick ignores all his calls.  Bruce ends up keeping tabs on him from afar, always worried.

fast forward to the new Robin.  this time, Bruce impresses from the beginning the importance of never leaving Gotham.  Jason agrees.  three years later, Jason leaves to Ethiopia, Batman follows, the Joker shows up.

it ends with JL intervention and a beaten Jason being taken away by Wonder Woman and the Joker taken away by the JL.  Bruce tries to infiltrate Themyscira, is caught, Diana snaps at him.  Bruce begs asks her to be able to speak to Jason.  Jason is visibly upset and doesn't want to talk to Bruce and tells him that Batman didn't save him and orders him to get out.  Bruce leaves, heartbroken.

a young boy observes a devastated Batman on the streets of Gotham and is determined to help him.  this time, Bruce impresses upon Tim the severity of the situation.  if he leaves Gotham the Justice League will get him.  Tim agrees to be very careful.  Damian shows up and for the first time in a long time, Bruce lets himself relax.

Bruce gets lost in time.  Tim has to leave Gotham to find the clues to help him, he stumbles upon the Titans who offer their help and a spot on their team.  once they find Bruce, Tim forces himself to leave with the Titans, knowing that at least Bruce and Damian will be safe.

Bruce is exhausted and hurt and upset.  he keeps losing children.

meanwhile, the JL is getting increasingly fed up about this brooding vigilante that treats his sidekicks as disposable and never once checks up on them after they leave his fold.  it's a giant miscommunication.

things come to a head when Bruce is forced to go to Metropolis to stop some alien threat or whatever.  Damian sneaks after him, despite express orders to stay, and when Bruce wakes up in a medical tent, Superman tells him that Damian is okay and he's staying with Superman's family.  Clark was not expecting Batman to go back to Gotham, stone-faced, without asking about or picking up his kid.

Bruce is heartbroken, he's lost four children and he just stays in the Cave and cries.  meanwhile Damian, with the Kents, is distressed by the abundance of people his father's warned him about.  he just wants to go home.

#fic ideas #bruce vs the league #when the miscommunication clears up everyone's horrified #including dick and jason who just thought that bruce didn't want to talk to them anymore #damian and tim immediately come home

[ilwonuu]

if your taking requests, could you write something angsty for jeonghan? I love your writing it’s cute and I think accurate to the person. Keep up the great work 🫶🏽🫶🏽

yes of course hehehehe,,, thank you so much that is so sweet. im so happy you enjoy my work!!! i hope you enjoy this too<3

𝗀𝗈 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒

⇝ 𝗒𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇

❀ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－ 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗐𝖻 𝖻𝖼 𝗒𝗎𝗆<𝟥 ， 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗂𝖽𝗈𝗅！𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

❀ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌- 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 （𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗂 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅） ， 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍， 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖺 𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗄，，，𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾， 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾，，， 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗎𝗆𝖻 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾<𝟥， 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 （𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗅）， （𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝖾）， 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾 ！！！！

❀ 𝖺／𝗇- 𝗅𝗆𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺 𝗉𝗍 𝟤 𝗁𝖾𝗁𝖾，，， 𝗂 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗑 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗁𝖺𝗇<𝟥 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽，，，

jeonghan never goes this long without talking to you. the last time you saw him was 2 days agao. it’s weird for best friends. very weird for you and jeonghan. obviously there’s a reason. the reason being you confessing your feelings to him. jeonghan did not like hearing that.

it scared him away definitely, you thought. you feel awful about it. why couldn’t you just have left it alone? kept it to yourself maybe? then maybe you could still have him as a friend at least. but it wasn’t fair to him. you were falling more in love with him.

you thought he was falling in love with you too. and he was. he couldn’t come to terms with knowing that. of course he could tell. he was happy. he couldn’t do it. the last thing he wants is to ruin all these years of being friends with you. he just wants to kiss you and not have it ruin anything. you both know that that’s not how it would go.

he’s scared of committing to you. he wants to be perfect and that’s too much pressure on its own so he pushes you away. for weeks. you were broken. your job was the only thing getting you through the days. your co workers cheer you up as best as they can but all you want is jeonghan.

why can’t he just talk to you about it and stop hiding? putting you through all of this stress just because he can’t talk to you. you have been working less since jeonghan decided to just forget about you. well you hoped he didn’t actually forget about you.

you were exhausted after a shift as your phone rang. it was jeonghan. you shivered in cold sweat as you answered. tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“i’m outside- please let me in.” you can’t even respond to him. you hang up on him without a response. you hesitate to open the door for him but you really miss him.

maybe he’s coming with good news? if he was coming with good news it wouldn’t have took him 3 weeks.

you still tried to convince yourself that he could want you in the same way. you open your front door nervously. jeonghan looks tired. he doesn’t look like himself. he’s wearing the sweater you got him. you almost cry at the sight.

“can i come in?” you nod at him as he steps in. it’s awkward and it’s never been that way before. he follows you to the couch. both of you are scared of this conversation. both of you want each other. jeonghan just wished you wanted him the same way as him.

“first of all- i’m a fucking asshole. i know you can be upset with me for as long as possible i deserve it. but i’m sorry for treating you like that. i never want to go that long without talking to you again.” you tear up already with a nod. you had so many built up emotions.

“jeonghan- i’m really upset with you yeah. you fucking ghosted me! i thought you were never gonna talk to me again.” he shakes his head.

“never- angel you really thought that?” he grabs your hand, he feels like complete shit. “well what else was i supposed to this jeonghan?” you were crying at this point. he couldn’t believe he made you cry.

he wishes he wasn’t so stupid about his decisions. “i’m so so sorry i didn’t talk to you. i- was scared of the thought of feelings and i still am. i have to be honest with you.” you feel your heart drop when he says those words.

“i c-can’t commit to a relationship. i just can’t-“ you nod quickly at him. why are you doing this to yourself? you know how much you like him. you know he means friends with benefits. you shouldn’t settle less for what you want. but you would do anything to have jeonghan.

“jeonghan?” you stop him with a soft smile. “can i kiss you?” you are basically setting yourself up for failure. jeonghan is just too pretty. he nods at you slowly as he leans over to kiss you. the kiss is so desperate. you can tell how much jeonghan wants you. his lips are sloppy against yours.

“this isn’t a good idea.” he says in between kisses. you don’t respond to him. all you want to do is keep kissing him.

“you’re gonna regret this angel.” you just wish he would stop rubbing it in.

“i just want you hannie-“ you reach for him.

“are you sure?” you beg him practically.

yoon jeonghan was a asshole. he didn’t lie when he said he you would regret it. you wish you never slept with jeonghan. your best friend flirting with another girl at a party.

he knew you were right there and he didn’t care. you wish you didn’t care about jeonghan as much as you do. because clearly he doesn’t care about you.

you can’t hell but to cry over the boy. he comes over to you like nothing happened. you knew you couldn’t talk to him about it again. you couldn’t lose jeonghan. the last thing you wanted was for him to stop talking to you again.

you rather have him treat you this way than to not have him at all. you wish he could see how this affects you.

you really hate yoon jeonghan.

#svt jeonghan #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fic #jeonghan seventeen #jeonghan #jeonghan smut #jeonghan angst #seventeen #svt #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt imagines #svt fic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt angst #seventeen fics #seventeen fanfic

[scoonsalicious]

6.3 Bucky

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language.

Word Count: 500

Previously On...: Lily tricked Bucky into going on a picnic date; they made plans for a "friend date" for later that evening.

A/N: Sorry this is late- I tried something new with the texts, but it took too long, so I don't know if I'll do it again, lol. Reminder: My break is starting today, so there will be no new updates until Thursday, May 23rd. I'm hoping to get a ton of writing done, but I won't leave you hanging for content, I promise!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

He was really hoping his plans with Lily would take his mind off of his fuckup with Major. He must have thought about calling her about seventy five thousand times, but each time he picked up his phone to dial her number, he saw her shrug in his mind’s eye when he asked if he could call her later. Lily may have been wrong about the reasoning, but what if she had been right about the gist of it– If Major really wanted him to call her, wouldn’t she have said so? It was driving Bucky crazy.

So, he agreed to a night out with Lily as a distraction. After their impromptu picnic, he’d walked her back to her car and they’d set back off to the Compound, where Bucky napped and took a shower. He was just deciding what to wear to dinner in a few hours when a text came through on his phone. He almost did a double take when he saw it was from Major.

Sugar: Can we talk?

Bucky’s heart sped up at the sight of her words. She wanted to talk. This was good, right? 

Bucky bit his lip. Lily would understand if he had to cancel, right? He’d explained to her how much he liked Major, how upset he was when he thought he’d blown it with her. She’d get why it was so important for him to meet with Major tonight. They could do a raincheck on their friend-date.

Okay, she was putting the ball in his court. Bucky wracked his brain, trying to come up with an idea that would be spontaneous, but also romantic, so he could show her that he was serious about her, about making this thing between them work. An idea struck him suddenly, and though it wasn’t very original of him, all things considered, it was perfect. Absolutely perfect. He was just going to need a few hours to get everything ready. Glancing at his phone, he realized he needed to get in gear; he didn’t have a lot of time, and there were things to do.

>> DROPPED A PIN

>> Meet me here at 7:30pm.

A few hours later, Bucky was doing his final set up preparations. He checked his phone– Major should be arriving any minute, and if he said he didn’t have butterflies in his stomach, he’d be lying. He nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone buzzed with an incoming text, but it was just from Lily.

Shit. In his haste to get everything prepared for Major, Bucky had completely forgotten he’d made dinner plans with Lily. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It was a long moment before the three dots appeared on his screen, indicating Lily was typing.

Bucky smiled at his phone, not sure why he had been so nervous about telling Lily he was dating Major in the first place. 

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[chaifootsteps]

frustrating thing about that bad Octavia take is the episode didn't frame it as her being 'spoiled' or needing Stolas' attention right that second - she goes up to talk to him and is pretty hesitant and mumbly when she tries to get his attention. (The episode does come down way too much on Stolas' side but they frame it like Via should cut him slack for letting her down, not that she was unreasonable to be hurt in the first place)

She doesn't stomp her foot and she doesn't even raise her voice. She waits until back in her room where Stolas can't even see before she does anything resembling a tantrum.

And she's upset because when she tried to talk to Stolas, he didn't even remember it was the day of the meteor shower and brushed her off totally. Then he says him arguing with Stella is going to take all day, blowing off their planned day together totally.

She delivers her lines with the hurt that someone has when they thought something in their life was a guarantee and that the other person would remember because it's important to them, too, but Stolas thought being petty to Stella was so important that he literally didn't even remember the meteor shower until the very end of the episode, when Via told him about it. He didn't remember on his own, which suggests he didn't think it that important. But instead of the episode have him saying he'd gotten carried away with his feud with Stella, Via just says 'you're here now' as if that and watching a discount meteor shower with the fireworks is good enough

It's pretty hard to claim she's had her every need attended to when it's hard to tell if Stolas and Stella ever pretended to be happily married in front of her, Stella throws 'still not divorced' parties in Via's home and Stolas only ditched this emotionally scarring charade to neglect Via in favor of the imp booty call he's been harassing nonstop.

It's a consistent pattern with Stolas even after the show started babying him that his ability to empathise with other people and understand their feelings sucks. Via living in a palace does not mean she's had everything she ever wanted if her emotional needs to, y'know, not to live in the middle of a sham marriage or to not have to watch her father be a sex pest towards the imp he cheated with are not being met. And Stolas stans should know that because it's the exact same argument they make about him all the time - that he still lived an emotionally impoverished life despite being rich and powerful.

despite the show so far avoiding making Via spoiled (she's way more of a moody emo teen stereotype, like Loona but better fleshed out) I can't help but feel like the remaining fanbase are just going to get more and more vitriolic towards her, same way some of them are actively rooting for Stolas to engage in DV against Blitzo (I mean that 'girlypop should wait 5 mins' is pretty passive aggressive)

Bingo. Nailed it.

So far, Octavia is the only character to go against Stolas that's still permitted by the show to retain a scrap of acknowledgement of being in the right. Striker's dirty and gross and poor and a "supremacist," Stella's a stupid bitch who deserves her brother's abuse, Blitzo is "leading Stolas on" and deserves to suffer for hurting Stolas's feelings by calling out his abuse. But Via's still allowed the bare minimum...she's expected to "cut him some slack," but it's never called into question -- at least not yet -- that he wronged her.

But that's not enough for this fandom. Via upset Stolas and even worse, she's a female character, so she's a spoiled, entitled brat who sucks.

#Anonymous #helluva boss critical #vivziepop fandom #viv stuff #actual blog post

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

“Ugh!” Vox groaned, slamming his glass down on the bar top of the penthouse. I looked over, about to ask him what was wrong, but he cut me off. “God fucking damnit! I hate Alastor so fucking much,” he growled, dragging his nails along the wood.

“Oh,” I said flatly, turning away from him again.

He paused for a moment and looked over at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, sounding offended. “I have perfectly good reasons to hate him, you know.”

“Yeah, and I guess that gives you a free pass to talk about how much you hate him whenever you want, however much you want,” I said dryly, rolling my eyes. I opened my phone and started scrolling through it.

“If you have a problem with that you can just leave,” Vox muttered, returning to his drink. “Nobody is forcing you to stay.”

“Unfortunately you happen to be in my favorite room. You know, the living area. The place we’re supposed to share,” I said, giving him a look. “Which means everyone is supposed to be mindful of one another when we’re in this room.”

“Oh fuck off,” he said dismissively, waving his hand. “You’ve been spending too much time at the shitty hotel. This is Hell, sweetheart. Nobody gives two shits.”

“I care,” I replied. “If you have any sort of respect for the people you hang around, you’d care too. Are you saying you don’t respect me?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all,” he said quickly, snapping his head in my direction. “Babe, you’re putting words in my mouth.”

“Really? The only words I ever hear coming from you are insults or complaints about Alastor,” I said coldly. “Am I really exaggerating when more than half our time together is just spent with you being in a bad mood?”

“I have every right to be upset!” He said, rising to his feet. “I can feel whatever way I want!”

“But you don’t get to push your misery onto other people,” I said firmly. “All I ever hear from you is shit about the hotel or Alastor, or just insults towards people in general. Within the past three weeks I’ve only received two compliments from you.”

“Oh,” he said, rolling his eyes. “That’s what this is about?” He huffed and crossed his arms, pacing around the room. “I’m sorry I can’t shower you in needless words all the time, sweetheart. I have better things to do than feed your ego.”

“Excuse me?” I asked incredulously. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me,” he said stiffly.

“I’m sorry, but I think that as your significant other, I deserve at least a little bit of attention. Again, I’ve only seen you in a sour mood, throwing insults all the time. I’m sorry I don’t want to deal with that bullshit,” I said, standing up. “I’m sorry I want more from this relationship than just your complaints. You want to know what else I’ve kept track of? You spend on average, eight hours with me a week. That’s a little over an hour everyday, and most of it spent being a little bitch. You’ve yet to give me a single ounce of affection while I’ve been going out of my way to listen to your ramblings, get you gifts and hugs and kisses.”

“I- that’s not fair!” He said.

“No! No, you do not get to speak right now. I’m talking. Shut your mouth and let me finish,” I snapped. “I’m clearly putting far more effort into this relationship than you are, and I’ve got nothing to show for it. Despite my best efforts to cheer you up or support you, it’s never enough! I don’t expect you to stop being pissed off just because I cook your favorite dinner, but a fucking thank you would be nice instead of being blatantly ignored!”

I dropped my book in his hand and started walking away. “I’ve tried to bring this up, but you always brush it off. Today? This was the last fucking straw,” I said harshly, opening the door. “Congratulations, Vox! You’re single again.” I slammed the door behind me.

“Wait- shit!” He yelled, trying to follow after me. He was too late.

A/N: idk what this is. I just felt like it. I think it’d be pretty annoying to hear him complain about Alastor nonstop 🤷‍♀️

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #writing #vox x reader #my writing #x reader #vox hazbin hotel

[luveline]

could I maybe request some more coworker james, maybe reader telling james about something she’s upset about? love you and your writing, hope you’re okay my love!! :)

thank you for requesting <3 fem, 1k

Today, James has moved your mug to the fridge. He laughs as he does it, while Sirius tuts and drinks a quick cup of tea by the sink. “You’re gonna bully her out of the job,” Sirius says. 

“This isn’t bullying. This is hazing. Light hazing. If she asks me where it is I’ll tell her, but she’ll find it.” He puts it on top of his lunch, practically begging for retaliation. 

You arrive in a fluster that morning, a few minutes late but no less pretty than usual. It’s irksome but nothing he feels the need to comment on, smiling to himself as you sit. Your desk knocks against his and sends his little Smiski figurine tumbling. 

“Sorry,” you say, reaching over to pick him up. You’re gentle putting him back on James' outgoings, your perfume floating his way. “Poor Smiski.” 

“I’m sure he’ll recover. What’s with the late start, princess?” 

You wrinkle your nose. “Don’t be a chauvinist.” 

“That’s ridiculous.” He can’t help grinning at you. James doesn’t believe that you genuinely think he’s a chauvinist, and so he doesn’t mind continuing to poke at you. “I hardly think calling you princess demonstrates any belief that I’m better than you. I am better than you.” He bites. “What’s with the hair?” 

You’ve had your hair done. It looks gorgeous and like it took half a day, but he doesn’t mention that. 

“I have to go with Sirius today to talk to Enlighten limited.” 

“Why would you have to do that?” 

“Sirius says I’m the administrator’s type.” 

“And he’s using you as bait?” James asks incredulously. 

You turn the Smiski so he’s facing James’ monitor. “He said I shall be greatly rewarded.” You’ve had your nails done, their beds shiny with lacquer, your cuticles finely manicured. 

You put your bag under your desk. Your hands shift in your lap. 

James watches in bridled horror when you leave. To the outward observer he doesn’t care because he shouldn’t, but he can’t believe it when you go —you’re a beautiful girl and he’s awful inside, he hates that you’re pretty, he hates that you’ve had your hair done to go see somebody, he sort of hates that Sirius is using you like a poster girl to facilitate business. You’re a water safety company. What is wrong with him? What’s wrong with James?

“She looked nice, didn’t she?” Remus asks. 

James ignores him diligently. He tries to ignore the entire world for a few hours, completing three times as much work as he usually would and dedicatedly avoiding the thought of your hands while he does it. 

You didn’t even notice that he moved your mug. How embarrassing is that? James thinks he might dig a hole and throw himself in it before you get back. 

Later, you return. You’re both with weak smiles as you sit down and Sirius stands behind Remus. 

“Did it go okay?” Remus asks, tipping his head back. 

Sirius frowns but gives his boyfriend a nice kiss on the cheek anyways. “I don’t think they’re gonna choose us this time. It’s fine. Now come with me so I can make you some tea, handsome.” 

You tuck your chair in as they go. 

“Didn’t go well?” James asks you. 

You shake your head. For a moment you stare at your keyboard, and then you turn to him with a wobbly smile. “I think I really messed it up for him, James.” 

“How would you do that?” 

“I tried to be conversational, you know. Sirius is so chatty. But I kept saying the wrong things. I asked him about his daughter. He had all these photos on the wall, but she died last June. Just decimated the mood.” Your brow wrinkles. You cover your frown with two fingers. “Sirius wasn’t mad.” 

“He wouldn’t be mad at you for a shit business meeting, he’s not like that. I don’t think anyone can blame you for that.” 

You pause again. “You’re sure?” 

You’d been expecting a joke, it seems. James had meant to make fun of you, but your honesty threw him off. He struggles to say anything else, the two of you looking at one another in mutual surprise, until insecurity flashes in your eyes and you peel back. 

James turns his head to his spreadsheet, though his eyes remain on you. 

“I know he’s not mad at me, but he should be. He took me with him to help and I…” You rub your lips together, what little that’s left of your lipgloss spreading thin. “I really thought I could do it.” 

“You can. If poaching clients were hard, Sirius wouldn’t have a job.” He feels bad for diminishing Sirius’ efforts, joke or not, and he softens his tone. “What makes you think you can’t do it? Because you made a mistake? You couldn’t have known it was a sore subject.” 

“I feel silly. I felt so stupid sitting in his office, I looked like an idiot.” 

“No, you didn’t.” James bites the inside of his lip to stop from saying anything ridiculous, but his eyes stray. He looks at your eyes, your soft cheek, the curve of your neck and your hair and your lips, rubbed and bitten enough that your lipgloss is almost completely gone. You didn’t look stupid. You never…

James is in deep shit, it seems. You’re so pretty. 

For a moment, he can’t remember why he doesn’t like you. 

You falter under his gaze. “I guess I’m being childish, worrying,” you say tightly. 

“You’re not being childish.” James clears his throat, sits a bit straighter. “It’s okay to worry about stuff when it’s gone wrong, but I can go and ask Sirius right now if he thinks any of that was your fault and I know he’d say no. You tried your best,” —his hand slides across the desk, nowhere near touching you but an unconscious response— “okay?” 

“I tried my best,” you say softly. 

“And you looked scrumptious.” You snort. “But it’s back to business now, cool? You can’t mooch an entire day doing nothing, I need you to check off some of these spreadsheets for me, I’m missing a ton of laboratory numbers.” 

You rush to do as he’s said, and that’s that, the charged air between you simmers and dies. 

“James,” you say, with dawning horror, “how many of these did you do?” 

“I’m oh so productive when you’re not here to irritate me, apparently.” 

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

[elle1rp]

eye fucker

NSFW 18+

minors and men dni

toxic!abby jealous but roommate!reader is tired of it. warning; slight smut?, phone sex, misogynistic comments, toxicity, mention of murder, strong language first story ever.. like in forever. probably will notice mistakes as I’m also still learning how to write. :33 enjoy!! 🎵 - one of the girls, the weeknd

you were pissed; beyond pissed. Invited to a car wash by your homegirls, you had to wear lingerie under fitted white shirts, exposing every lace and strap when wet.

It felt like looking like a bunch of hookers was the only way to get donations from perverted men or giggly, misogynist teen boys for a homeless shelter.

But that's not why you're upset.

glancing over at Abby in the driver's seat, her jaw clenched, fingers gripping the steering wheel as if she wanted to break it, veins pulsating through her thick arm, she looked even more furious than you were.

you didn't care. She didn't have the right to be. She didn't own you or anything of you. She had no right to pull you out of there and force you into the car.

your friends found Abby's behavior amusing yet perplexing. Her growing attraction towards you since you moved in with her was becoming increasingly evident, to the point where it seemed almost pitiful.

you released a breath, casting a glance towards the radio. The silence in the car felt deafening, accentuated only by the sound of Abby's slightly ragged breathing. You reached over and clicked play on the radio, breaking the uneasy quiet with some music.

only for it to be abruptly interrupted by Abby's thick finger pressing the stop button. "No," she say, firmly.

"What the hell is your problem?" you exclaim, feeling frustration rising. Now she's acting like a complete dick. Her eyes remained fixed on the road, with such intensity that it seemed like she could crack the windshield with her glare alone.

you couldn't deny, she looked incredibly hot. Wearing a green shirt that accentuated her curves and muscles, with a gold watch adorning her right wrist. Only she knew how to completely master the blend of anger and sexiness.

"The problem is you dressing like a prostitute to wash cars as if you have no damn sense," she retorted, her tone sharp.

You cross your arms over your chest, shooting a glance towards her. "Sorry, but I don't need your permission to have fun," you assert, though perhaps not entirely truthful.

the truth was, you only agreed to participate because you and Abby were supposed to have a night together and you still wanted to go to the car wash, but you also really wanted to have dinner with her, so you ultimately chose not to go.

it wasn't just any regular “hey, let’s chill and get some pineapple pizza and garlic wings.” roommate night, but rather a "I want to get to know you better and possible fuck later" type of night, which she seemed to have ditched you for—or so you thought.

In an attempt to get back at her, you dressed in your finest, most sluttiest, provocative lingerie and reached out to your homegirls for a night out.

You heard Abby scoff, followed by a laugh. "Oh, is that what you call fun?" she remarked, glancing at you briefly before returning her gaze to the road.

"Yeah, something I was having until you messed it up—" you begin, but her voice cuts you off abruptly as she jerks the car into park in the apartment parking lot.

“—that guy that you were talking to was practically fucking you without even having to touch you.” Her words dripped with a hint of possessiveness, a tone you've only witnessed once before. 

A few days ago, one of your friends playfully wrapped her arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling her face into your neck to make a point about Abby. that she liked you, even if she tried so hard to hide it. Your friend ended up feeling intimidated by the intensity of Abby's gaze and almost a busted lip.

Abby's blue eyes locked onto yours, her pupils slightly dilated, adding a fiery intensity to her gaze. "He might as well just fuck you at this point, right? I mean you are already in uniform." she remarked, her voice laced with a mixture of sharpness and desire.

You dig your eyebrows in. "Fuck you," you mutter before storming out of her Jeep Wrangler and slamming the door shut. As you march towards the apartment building, you seethe with anger. She had no right to ditch you and then act like she owned every inch of you. fuck her

Abby opens the door, stepping her foot on the side bumper and sticking her head out. "Hey!" she calls out, extending her arms towards you. Ignoring her, you slam the door behind you and continuing on your way.

great now she’s fucking upset. okay, maybe I should’ve said it less.. dickish. Abby turned off the engine before getting out, slamming the door shut and walking to the door.

she curses under her breath as she struggles to twist the locked door open, realizing your act of pettiness. Faint music emanates from inside, and she rolls her eyes before unlocking the door.

the lyrics of the song become more noticeable as she enters the house, with some chick singing "one of your girls" from the radio in the kitchen. However, she doesn't see you around, probably assuming you're in your room.

Abby kicked her boots off before collapsing onto the couch, her hands immediately finding her face, rubbing up and down.

God, what the fuck does she do to me?

She didn't ditch you. She was running late from work because of her asshole of a boss, piling on extra tasks before she could leave. When she finally got home, she realized you weren't there waiting for her. She assumed you had gone to sleep, but it was 6. too early for you to do so.

It wasn't until she found the car wash fundraiser poster that she crumpled it in her hands before storming out the door.

suddenly , she hears a phone ring, feeling the vibration in her back pocket, signaling that it was hers. She lets out a groan before taking it out.

It was you calling. Why would she be FaceTiming me? We're in the same house? she wondered.

Sliding the bar over, she answered the call. At first, the screen was dark until you moved back from the camera, revealing the soft glow of candles in your room. Your lingerie was now in full view without the white shirt blocking your pink ensemble, much to Abby's disdain.

Immediately sitting up from the couch surprised, Abby's attention fixated on your perfect figure. Your skin looked so soft and touchable, causing her fingertips to tingle as she remembered how you felt in her fingertips when you taught her how to cut an onion the other day.

"What are you doing?" Abby asked, leaning back on the couch, trying to ease the discomfort between her legs. Just the sight of you could make her come.

She watched as you walked back towards your bed and sat on the very edge of it, your arms behind you for support. There was a faint smirk on your face, which only intensified the heat in Abby's cheeks as she moistened her lips with her tongue. she guessed you set the phone down on the vanity that was next to your door. not like she would know.

She knew you were toying with her, teasing her.

"I guess if that guy was practically fucking me with just his eyes…" you trailed off, slipping off your bra straps and sliding your fingers to the back of the bra. You unclipped it, letting it fall pathetically to the floor. "He deserves a round, don't you think?"

Putting it that way, it didn't make much sense, but that was based on Abby's own perspective.

Abby's mouth was slightly agape as she fell into a trance, mesmerized by how perky your tits were. Your hips began to sway, causing your stomach to roll as you slowly grind your ass on the edge of the bed. She could already feel her clit swelling with need.

"you want to help clean up a murder? be my guest." she remarked, her tongue finding her lips again, feeling her mouth go dry once more. There was already a pool forming between her legs that she couldn't wait to get taken care of.

She hears you chuckle dryly, feeling your nipples harden even more at her possessiveness. You love the idea that she could control you, even if you wouldn't let her but who knows what the future holds?

You grip the bed frame next to you for balance as you begin to grind your ass against the edge harder. Abby can hear the friction and the bed creaking. She absolutely loves watching you. It's all she ever does—fantasizing about this exact moment, but instead of it being over the phone, you're the one riding her until sunset.

You let out a moan, your head falling back.

"You're fucking loving this, aren’t you?" Your voice is still high-pitched from your previous moan as you stare into the camera. You watch as Abby keeps licking her lips, not even blinking. Fuck yeah, she's loving it.

Your tits bounced with every movement your hips made. You gripped them, squeezing your breast and pinching your own nipples, desperately trying to get yourself off. You wanted Abby to be up there with you, doing all of this, but you also wanted to teach her a lesson—a lesson Abby needed to learn.

Reaching down, Abby's hand stopped at her crotch area on her beige cargo pants, pressing her finger down on her clothed clit as she let out a groan. "Touch yourself," she demanded.

You tsked a couple of times, waving your finger and shaking your head. "you're in no position to bark out orders, Anderson.” you retorted before standing up. Abby moans at how her name rolled off your tongue so fucking seductively.

“fuck..” a smirk creeped up on your face, hearing Abbys muttered profanity.

Your fingertips trailed the bed lightly as you walked towards the middle of the bed, grabbing a pillow. Abby remained on the edge of the couch, ready to get up and barge in there.

You climbed onto the bed, your back to the camera as you straddled the pillow. "just watching me like a good dog, huh?” you moaned out, grinding your pussy against the pillow, feeling your orgasm drawing near. “sadly, there’s no treat.”

Abby couldn't peel her eyes away from you. She was afraid that if she looked away, she'd miss how your ass jiggled with every movement. "I always loved when you watched me… with that look in your eyes, like you owned my existence," you said, your hair flowing down to your back, slightly hiding your ass and teasing her by not giving her a full view.

then, something in Abby's mind clicked. She realized she was eye-fucking you just like that guy did, exposing her own hypocrisy. You wanted to prove that to her.

"That guy can fucking stare all he wants, but you know who can really satisfy you.." Abby managed to let out, releasing a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

you smirked, slowly disappearing as you grind harder and faster against the pillow, moaning out as you felt yourself getting closer. "mm.. oh fuck…yes."

Abby have had enough. The heat between her legs was unbearable now. She needed you badly—to watch you, to taste you, to give you a good fuck.

not before punishing you at least.

she stood up from the couch and walked towards your room, her eyes still fixed on the screen as you continued to grind on your pillow, now soaked with your wetness. you could hear the faint footsteps approaching your door, your heart racing with anticipation.

Abby grabbed the knob and twisted it, but it was locked. are you fucking..

"Open the door," she demanded, looking down at the phone, watching as you focused on reaching your orgasm. "Oh fuck, Abby. I'm so close," your voice echoed from the phone and inside your room.

She twisted the door multiple times, nearly breaking it. "Fucking open the door. Now," she urged, feeling the desperation rise within her as she heard your pleasure-filled moans.

you felt yourself reaching your orgasm as your body shook with pleasure. "Oh, yes, please... I’m coming, I'm coming!”

Abby banged against the door desperately, sure that she was going to break it if you didn't open up before you came. "I swear to god if you don't open this fucking door!” Don’t fucking come without me

You let out the longest, most pornographic moan, her name echoing throughout the walls. Abby punched the wall beside the door. your body is fucking mine.

As you came down from your high, you whispered, "Too bad…" with ragged breaths as you looked over your shoulder, reaching over for the phone, bring it to your lips. "..You can only watch me," you whispered.

Abby's phone made a sound as it went dark, signaling that you ended the call. She stood outside your door, feeling a mixture of frustration and arousal, unable to contain her desire for you and the wetness between her legs. 

She leaned into the door as if you was there in front of her. in a low voice, she say, “you better hope you don’t fucking see me tomorrow.”

You laid in your bed, catching your breath with a grin, excited for what said tomorrow will bring. 

#abby tlou #abby x you #abby anderson #tlou #the last of us 2 #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #tlou2 #Tlou2 #x reader #the last of us abby #the last of us

[stars-in-a-jam-jar]

I loved Buddy this episode. Exactly the energy I love to see. He remains Completely Mostly-Deliberately Fanatical, but to the point where even the people who coerced him into joining their new religion are like 'You're!!! Doing it wrong!!!!' And Buddy's just like 'I have faith in Bakarath :)' I love him, I love that for him, I love Buddy Dawn so much, please don't die, Buddy, I just wanna have you floatin' around being a silly little uses-his-high-wis-stat-to-deliberately-fail-all-insight-checks-on-himself guy forever.

I wanna see Buddy at the end of this approach Fig like a little lost puppy asking her about Ankarna, but not in the soft explorative way that Bucky is curious about Kristen's relationship with Cassandra, in a way that's like 'I've been in a right tumble dryer lately and was wondering what exactly The Correct Worldview to attach my entire soul and sense of self to is.'

Want him to be a complete mess most of senior year as he keeps looking for new things to attach himself to. Every few weeks he changes his style to reflect the new thing he's trying on as a replacement for developing an independent sense of self.

Want him to be three quarters of the way through senior year before he even thinks to talk to Jawbone. That or they've been having mandatory councilor sessions all fall, and it's only as the Moonar Yulenear is coming up that Bucky starts Acting Like A Person for little flashes, where his entire attitude and personality is not some ironclad manifestation of what he believes The Correct Person To Be is, and instead he just. Genuinely loudly laughs at a joke that a few months ago he would've simply given a polite sensible chuckle to and said 'Oh, that's a good one'. He lets his face fall into a bored exhaustion in a class and the teacher asks him if something's wrong and he snaps back to, but it still happened. The omnipresent 'Good God Fearing Boy' persona slipped and he was a bored teen for a second. He tries a heavily caffeinated drink in the same way one might try a beer for the first time and suddenly he's being a little silly twirling his staff around and stumbling over his sentences a little more as his brain whirrs.

He cries and he breaks something and there's this icky complicated cocktail of emotions because getting angry is bad and being upset is bad; he was taught that all his life and then it was proven correct when he was resurrected by a false manifestation of a dead goddess worshipped in her true form by the archdevil of rebellion who spent the entire school year playing mindgames with the bard in Buddy's party who were using him.

But Jawbone keeps saying it's important to feel your feelings, which is a very silly thing of Jawbone to keep emphasizing, because Buddy always feels his feelings, it's not like he just unilaterally fends every emotion off as if it'll be his inevitable downfall. There's The Good Feelings and The Bad Feelings, and The Good Feelings come from The Good Things and The Bad Feelings are temptations into evil he must not indulge. He chooses to identify with the Correct Feelings To Be Feeling, obviously. Because you're supposed to do that. And anger and upset are never correct. It was a lesson he had to learn the hard, painful way because he was a stupid, flimsy kid who needed to see the real truth up close and personal. That's why all that stuff happened to him. Why the Rat Griders were so dismissive of him. Why Kristen was trying to build bridges with him.

So why did he just shatter the mug his grandfather gifted him after his baptism when he remembered how Oisin and Ivy seemingly constantly side-eyed him every time he spoke. At least it felt that way. Buddy's very used to constantly feeling observed, he probably just imagined that.

They're not exactly alive to ask anymore.

What do you MEAN my silly post about how I think Buddy's insistence that Bakarath is For Sure The Name You Guys is cute and funny turned into ANOTHER Buddy Dawn fanfic???

#fantasy high junior year spoilers #fhjy #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #buddy dawn #rat grinders

[nalgenewhore]

storm in the castle

elide x lorcan + baby oc, post-canon/domestic/family feels, word count: 2353

Stella looks up at him when he walks into their family’s private living room, but she turns her head aggressively the other way a second after. Her little body twists as she folds her arms. 

Elide eyes the way her husband deflates. It’s almost comedic, how much her five-hundred-year-old demi-Fae warrior cares about their daughter’s quickly-changing moods.

Today, Stella Luna has decided she no longer likes her father because he wouldn’t let her stand on the table and dance while he helped her eat her oatmeal. And then, later, he stopped her from running around the stable and the jumpy war horses.

Lorcan crouches by the toddler. “Good evening, Stella,” he starts, watching her sweet face. Her lips push out in a little pout as her brows scrunch down to touch her nose. 

She doesn’t make a sound.

He tries again, this time reaching out to touch her soft curls. “Have you been playing all day, little one?” Her toys are spread out on the carpet. Two groups are clustered together and separate, facing one another. He thinks that she might be recreating a battle. 

She doesn’t make a sound.

The lord holds in his sigh and kisses her forehead, whispering something in the Old Language. Elide thinks it’s a nickname. Stella wipes her forehead to get rid of his kiss.

He stands to make his way to Elide. She’s stretched across a couch with a book laying on the cushion. She looks up at him, her finger resting on the page to keep her place. “You missed dinner,” she says directly. “And you didn’t send word.”

Neither lady nor lord have an affinity for small talk or mindless greetings. They speak to the point, rather than around it.

Lorcan leans over her with a hand braced on the back of the couch. “Meeting with the guards went late,” he explains in a low voice. He kisses her chastely. “How’s Stelle been?”

“Sulky,” Elide sighs and brings a hand to his cheek. Her eyes glint before she whispers, “Just like her father.”

He rolls his eyes at that but admits to himself the accuracy. Stella, in many ways, takes after him. The ability to hold a grudge comes from Elide, though. Lorcan’s sure of that, even if he will never say that aloud. He kisses his wife again. “Will you have my dinner brought up? I need to bathe.”

She says that she’ll fetch his dinner, and he walks towards their bedroom, his gaze settling on Stella Luna who still doesn’t acknowledge him. Something in his face shutters. Elide presses her lips together. She wants to tell her daughter to be nicer, but she can’t force Stella into behaving differently, and Lorcan thinks their daughter should express whatever she’s feeling.

Elide slips her bookmark into place, setting her book aside. Slowly, she uncurls from the couch and pads over to her daughter. “Little star,” she picks Stella Luna up to place her on a hip. “Shall we visit the kitchens? And see how our treat makers are tonight?”

She nods, subdued and pouty. 

Being mad at her father takes a toll on her as well. Usually from the minute he comes home, Stella is in his arms till she goes to bed. He wows her with stories of the epics he’s lived and plays with her, always following her lead. Missing her routine makes her untethered.

Elide takes Stella to the kitchens to have a plate made up for Lorcan. They pass by manor staff and a stray knight or two that all wave at the toddler. She angrily shoves her forehead against her mother’s shoulder. “Mama,” she growls.

“Why is my baby so upset, hmm?” Elide pats her back. 

“They looking.” Stella flings an accusing hand towards a gaggle of maids. 

“Ah,” Elide nods sagely. As they pass by others, she smiles pleasantly and shrugs when they eye Stella with confusion. Normally, the girl gives an effusive greeting to each and every one. 

Stella moves her face to the crook of Elide’s neck and clutches the loose collar of her shirt. The toddler doesn’t make another peep while they’re in the kitchen. She isn’t even enticed when the baker offers her a fresh, warm cookie. It piques Elide’s concern, but Stella’s been off all day. She couldn’t settle down for a nap, either, so she must be beyond exhausted.

One of the maids offers to carry Lorcan’s plate. Elide smiles, and they chat quietly as they walk back to her chambers.

Stella fusses the closer they get to their room. She squirms as Elide carries her over the threshold, mumbling something. With a huff, she lifts herself up, hands braced on her mother’s shoulder. She arches her spine in an attempt to stretch herself out of Elide’s arms. 

“Stella, don’t,” Elide tuts, cupping the back of Stella’s head to prevent her fall. “I can’t hold you like this.”

“No,” the toddler whines. “Ma, I wan’ down…”

“Not yet.”

The maid, a young woman called Aisling, sets the lord’s plate down. She asks if there’s anything else for her, and Elide dismisses her gratefully. 

The very moment Elide sets Stella down, she runs across the living room to a chair by the fireplace that holds a selection of stuffed animals. She clambers up on the cushion and sits so her back faces the room.

Elide almost gawks at her child. 

The bedroom door opens, and Lorcan steps out in a pair of loose pants as he tugs on a shirt. His hair still drips water even though he’s braided it back. He looks a lot less dirty and marginally less tired than earlier. Elide watches him look to Stella Luna once more. He pivots to her. 

Crouching by her chair, Lorcan smooths her hair down. He loves her little wispy curls. “It’s almost time for you to sleep, isn’t it?” Stella sticks out her bottom lip, shaking her head a bit. He thumbs her little ear. “I think so.”

“No, da, I’on wanna,” she denies his accusation. “Go ‘way. Go!”

He shakes his head, kissing her temple. “My little storm,” he murmurs. Then, he stands and lets her be the way she wishes.

Maybe he’s too indulgent. 

She’s his only daughter.

His wife has returned to her reading couch. He lifts her legs so he can sit down and rests them on his lap. He asks Elide, “Did Stella nap?”

“Not a wink,” she says. 

“Well…” he tilts his head to the girl in question. Half of Stella’s behaviour is explained by that. Elide nods. Lorcan starts eating his dinner, a hearty affair of roasted vegetables, lamb under a gravy with fresh, crusty bread. He washes it down with a tea she makes him drink for his sleep.

Elide switches between reading her book, checking on her daughter, and watching her husband mow through his dinner. She marvels at the amount of food he can put away. He watches Stella playing quietly with her toys, making them talk to each other and walk by bouncing them against the chair.

A relative peace settles over the room. It’s the calm before the storm where Stella will hit a wall. Lorcan pushes his plate aside and leans back with shut eyes. He sighs with content, the loudest sound in the room. 

In a minute or two, he wraps his hands around Elide’s foot and ankle. He slips off her rabbit-fur slipper to knead away the soreness of her injury. She uses a brace these days, built by Yrene. They’ve discussed in length the prospect of fixing it. Before her pregnancy and since Stella, they had a few sessions to lessen the burden of pain. She says she’ll go again someday but right now, the pain is manageable with a brace and diligent conditioning exercises. 

Slowly, Elide puts her book aside, fitting the pillow beneath her head.

She holds her breath, his thumb meeting where bone grinds against bone. It’s tight, and it hurts, yet he persists past the initial pain. She groans in satisfaction when there’s a little pop that pacifies the knot. 

They talk about their days as he tends to her ankle. Usually, this discussion happens over dinner. She met with the board of merchants like every month, and Lorcan assessed the Perranth infantry. In the afternoon, she pushed her meetings for another day so she could have Stella Luna. They went to the library when she wouldn’t sleep. He was working on reports for the queen and king, scowling at the irreverent letter Aelin had sent him. 

He complains to his wife about it now.

She laughs and pokes his thigh with her foot, “I thought you two were getting along.”

“She’s impossible, though,” he mutters. “And has too much time on her hands if she can write letters that-“ he’s about to detail what the letter contained, but impressionable ears are listening. He settles on, “Vulgar.”

“She has a large imagination,” she says. “And I’m not sure that you of all people should be criticising someone on how vulgar they can be.” 

Hands pause on her ankle, and Lorcan smirks. He shrugs, “Maybe.”

She tuts her tongue at his non-answer but doesn’t push past it.

Across the carpet, Stella Luna has moved to the floor. Her toys have joined her, though now they’re scattered around her. She plays like she’s fighting against some invisible force, every move sluggish. Elide nudges Lorcan, who’s already aware. He moves her legs to stand after they share a look.

He crosses the carpet in two steps. “My girl,” he sits himself beside her. “Can I have that?” Gently, he takes her stuffed animal, her wee fingers unable to grasp anything.

A yawn erupts from her, stretching her chubby cheeks. Stella’s eyes squeeze shut. She wobbles, and Lorcan balances her. “We have to sleep now,” he says. He scoops her up. She’s too exhausted to fight it, but her grudge rears its little head. A curled fist presses against his jaw like she’s trying to push him away.

“No-no, da,” she mumbles. “I play.”

“You will play tomorrow,” he whispers against her brow. “And we will sleep for now, yes?”

Stella screws up her face, expelling a short cry. “Noooo, no wanna sleep,” she whines. “Da, go!” Her breath hitches. “Go…” Between one second and the next she’s dissolved into great big sobs. She can’t control herself as it comes. Her cheeks turn cherry red and sticky tears make tracks over them.

Lorcan winces at his angel howling in his ear, but she doesn’t mean to. He shifts her so she’s upright against him. She gets like this when she’s so tired that she can’t think straight. One little thing happens, and she’s a puddle. He rubs his thumb over her back, the other hand cupping her head. He kisses the spot above her ear. “It’s alright, I know, I know.” 

Stella Luna clutches his collar, her snot staining his shirt. She cries on with a blubber of ‘Da-da’. 

He stands to sway with her because she likes the back and forth motion, it’s soothing. Lorcan lets her cry it out against his shoulder. 

“Da,” Stella’s chin wobbles with her high-pitched snivel. 

“Oh, Tiny,” he whispers. He picks her head up to lean her cheek against his, his fingers a gentle crutch for the weight. There’s a kind of magic in that position. In seconds, she goes from wails to trembling breaths and sniffles. Lorcan hums as he continues to sway. Stella puffs out little breaths. 

Silently, Elide disappears to somewhere else.

He walks with the baby back and forth across the room. She cries intermittently until something unseen sets her off again, and she bawls. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” he calms her rhythmically. 

She tries to say something, but he can’t understand her through her sobbing. 

 Lorcan shifts her so she’s cradled across him. With a soft touch, he paints his thumb around her face. He wipes the incessant tears and smiles when her chubby hands grasp his fingers. Tears clump together her lashes. 

Elide comes back with a damp cloth in hand. She stands at his side and peers over their baby. “Hello, my darling moon,” she coos with a warm smile. Stella flaps her hands. With the cloth, Elide lovingly cleans the baby’s sticky cheeks.

Almost instantly, Stella sighs in contentment. The sound seems so grown up to Lorcan; he chuckles a bit. “Does that feel good, Tiny?”

She reaches a chunky hand out, so Elide presses it against her face some more. 

Lorcan dutifully rocks and bounces her, then starts humming a lullaby. Their girl doesn’t have the strength to fight sleep anymore; maybe five minutes pass before she’s snoring.

Elide softly brushes her hair back. “She’s so stubborn,” she sighs. “And she’s barely two.” She kisses Stella’s brow.

“Tiny’s strong-willed,” Lorcan amends. He gazes down at Stella Luna and after a minute confesses, “She’s just like you, and being stubborn kept you alive, my heart. If she never grows out of this phase, it’ll serve her well.”

It’ll keep her safe .

“She pushes you away.”

Lorcan shakes his head. “She's still young. She doesn’t always know what she wants.” He looks at his wife, asking, “Does it worry you?”

Elide has a grave expression. “This world does not make life is not easy for stubborn girls, Lorcan.”

He nods slowly, then says, “I cannot control the world, Elide. In our home, I will learn to take her anger, to weather every storm she throws at us. Our daughter will never cater to my needs or wants first.”

For a moment, she does not answer, merely stares back at him, assessing.

“I promise it,” he tells her.

She nods finally.

When it’s time to put her down, Elide suggests they use the bassinet in their bedroom instead of her nursery. He agrees with a knowing smile, not one to argue that their daughter be further from them. 

And if neither lady nor lord manage to sleep, choosing to watch over the greatest thing that’s ever been theirs, then it is a worthy sacrifice.

✵✵✵✵✵

an: i hope u enjoyed ! i have missed my girl <3

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#elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #nalgenewhore #isa writes