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#maybe I used to be better but jeez

abandonedniche · 1 month

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found a transfeminist blog from 2018/19, spent 90 uninterrupted minutes reading through it, and felt immense grief over how much this site and the world at large have backslid on discussions around liberation

#not that this website has ever been good- and hey maybe I should follow better people #but jeez it feels like we’re back in the stone age with the fucking war of the sexes #and desperately clutching onto the illusion of womanhood #and tbc I mean liberation for ALL trans people and marginalized genders lmao it won’t happen unless it’s all of us

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 2 months

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It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 2 ] || [ Chapter 4 ]

Pairing: Ghost x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1K~ cw: some sexual jokes/innuendos Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?

Chapter 3: Simon

After doing the dishes, you moved yourself over to the living room and turned on the TV. Some rerun of an older season of Law and Order was playing.

You started watching but you found your eyes drifting back to your phone…

Against your better judgement, you clicked on the Tinder app icon again. Maybe, maybe you should swipe just a little more.

And so you did.

Today you said ‘Fuck you, Beyoncé’ and always went to the Right, to the Right.

Just as you were pondering another profile, the screen darkened with a ‘It’s a Match!’ notification, making you jump a bit, as usual.

You clicked the profile and your brow scrunched.

You didn’t remember liking this one… Though you obviously did, after all, you were liking everyone.

The only picture wasn’t even anything. It was dark and grainy and the man was wearing a black disposable face mask. If that even was him. Could just be a random picture off-Google, picked by someone who wanted to be anonymous. Not quite a catfish but close enough…

“Simon.” You said softly and dragged your finger through the screen to read his bio. For a moment you couldn’t help but smirk a little. He was sarcastic, a bit strange, but charismatic in his own way.

“Bad jokes, Bourbon, Discreet…” You mused while scanning his profile. “Tall enough.” You read aloud and couldn’t help but laugh at it. That made you feel like he was short.

Against your better judgement for the second time, you decided to send him a DM instead of waiting for him to. Something told you he wouldn’t.

you: tall enough - does that mean you’re below 6ft?

Simon: No.

Simon: Means that I have inches to spare.

you: was that a dick joke?

Simon: No.

Simon: Unless you wanted it to be.

You snorted softly under your breath. Of course he was a smart ass too…

you: ambiguous, i like it.

you: so how tall are you then?

Simon: Does it matter?

you: no. just curious.

Simon: 6ft4.

you: that feels like a lie.

Simon: I avoided putting it for a reason.

you: worried people would call you a liar?

Simon: No use. Going to be called it regardless.

you: that’s fair ig.

you: what’s a traveling consultant?

Simon: Similar to a contractor. Get brought in to help businesses all over the world.

you: what kind of businesses?

Simon: That’s need-to-know.

you: you type so formally and professionally jeez.

you: will i ever get to know?

Simon: Force of habit. Don’t text a lot.

Simon: Not if I can help it.

you: somehow i can tell.

you: what are you doing here then?

Simon: Curiosity mostly.

you: trying to see if you attract any fish? 👀

Simon: Something like that. A friend is on here. Wanted to see what all the fuss is about.

you: i see.

you: got anything yet?

Simon: No. But only created this 12 minutes ago.

you: am i your first then?

Simon: Not my first in anything, love.

Your eyes widened a bit and for some reason you found yourself getting a bit flustered, your face warming up just a bit.

you: does that mean you’ve hooked up with people through a dating app before?

Simon: Something of the sorts.

you: aw, im really not going to be your first.

Simon: That’s alright. You can come see me either way.

Simon: I’m sure you’ll find some other thing to be the first at.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you started sputtering. That came out of left field! He had gone from professional and mild-mannered to… flirty so quickly! Gulping, you tried to answer him with something coherent and funny.

you: idk what if you murder me?

Simon: I promise I won’t.

you: is that meant to be enough to convince me? 🤨

Simon: I’ll leave all my guns at home.

you: the fact you have more than one is not reassuring the way you think it is.

Simon: If it makes it any better, I wouldn’t need a gun to kill you.

Even though you don’t know this man, you can imagine that he’s laughing to himself behind his phone screen, all smug, thinking he’s funny. And, the worst part, is that he is.

you: reassuring. thanks.

Simon: Glad to be of service.

you: i think what makes it worse is that uve not got a pic of ur face.

Simon: Wouldn’t hook up with a bloke with his face covered?

you: no? are u trying to get me axe murdered? bc thats how u get axe murdered simon

Simon: LOL.

Simon: No.

you: u sure? a masked face with a mysterious job and a suspicious amount of guns… sounds like the upgraded version of ghostface… except online rather than over the phone.

Simon: I’ll take that as a compliment.

Simon: You’re funny.

Simon: I like that.

you: thanks.

Simon: Wondering if you’re that funny in real life or if you’d get all shy on me.

you: probably a mix of both.

Simon: How about we confirm that then?

Simon: Meet up with me for drinks. No pressure on time or place. You can even postpone if it comes down to it. My job is unpredictable enough so I might have to postpone too.

Your eyes widened. The first attempt at flirting from him, of inviting you for a shag, had been clearly sarcastic… But this one is genuine.

you: ill get back to u on that, is that okay?

Simon: No sweat.

Simon: And if you’re just being polite and not actually going to text me again then: This was fun. Enjoyed myself. Take care.

You bit your lip to suppress a smile when you saw his polite goodbye. He was… sweet, weirdly enough.

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthoney , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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rileyslibrary · 11 months

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Ghost is shocked by your immunity to being tased.

I received an ask from an anon for this story. Unfortunately, either Tumblr ate it, or I accidentally deleted it; I can’t be sure because I trust neither of us. Gladly, I remember the gist of it. I hope that anon sees it. (Sorry, anon, and thank you for the ask.)

———————————————————————

You push open the workshop door, and notice a curated display of taser gear spread across the table for today’s training session. Ghost, your lieutenant and trainer for the day, occupies a corner, busy with extracting all sorts of stuff—taser guns, pulses, stun batons—from bags and placing them on the table. He catches the sound of your entrance and turns halfway to face you.

“You’re early,” he mutters under his breath.

“I just couldn’t wait, Lieutenant,” you reply sarcastically.

He huffs. “We’ll see about that once training’s over.”

You approach the table, and look at the equipment. You reach out and grasp a taser gun. It looks exactly like a pistol but bulkier and has yellow elements to distinguish it from firearms.

“Could you please remind me how this baby works?” you ask.

He turns his entire body towards you and contemplates your question. Although the training session is just half an hour away, and he doesn’t technically need to explain anything, you’re his weak spot. So he leaves the gear in the bag, walks towards you, and begins to give you a detailed explanation.

It almost feels like a private session, but you have ulterior motives—you’ve already been through a similar class in the past and are eager to skip this one. Despite your repeated attempts to convey this to Ghost, he remained adamant that this course would be a refresher for you and, thus, necessary.

“Once you have a clear shot, you press the trigger.” He concludes.

“Like this?” you ask, directing the taser towards your right foot and squeezing the trigger. It stings, but your previous training has taught you how to get used to the feeling and handle the pain better. Or at least make it look that way.

Your poor lieutenant stands speechless as he looks at the now-fired taser gun. He slowly looks down, where his shocked eyes trace the two wires extending from the device, connecting to your foot.

“What the fuck did you do?” he shouts, gesturing towards your leg.

“Jeez, Lt., you seem stunned,” you comment.

“Are you having a laugh, soldier?” He scolds you with as much authority as he has left from what he just experienced. He drops to the ground, working to remove the wires from your foot. He stands up, alternating his gaze between the device and your leg. Finally, he turns to you.

“How come you’re not in pain?” he asks, confused.

You shrug, unaffected, and pick up another taser from the table. “Maybe the first one was defective; let’s give this one a go,” you suggest, aiming at your other foot and firing.

“Are you out of your mind, Y/N?” he screams in a high-pitched voice and kneels again to retrieve the second taser from your foot.

“Come on, Lt., it’s not as bad as it seems!” You reassure him with a grin, seizing a third taser from the table. This time, you point it at Ghost’s leg. “Wanna see?”

He lifts his knee and gathers his arms close to his body. He looks like a pitcher, ready to throw the ball in a baseball match.

“No, no, thank you very much”, he protests.

“Sure?” You ask and aim at his other leg on the ground.

“Absolutely certain, you maniac,” he says, switching legs. “How far are you willing to go to skip this class?!”

“Not too far,” you reply with a smile, “as far as these two wires go when they get propelled from the taser gun.”

“Cut it out!”

To his relief, the rest of the team enters the room, and Ghost instantly transitions into his authoritative persona. He places both feet on the ground, protrudes his chest, and places both hands on his waist. He clears his throat.

“Take your positions, everyone,” he commands, “everyone except for you, Y/N.”

“Why am I excluded, Lieutenant?” you ask with a pout and a playful wink. “Is it because I’m unfazed?”

“Nah, soldier,” he replies and walks behind you to tidy the wires from the already-shot taser guns, “it’s because you’re a live wire—always keeping me on my toes.”

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x y/n #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x y/n #simon riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #ghost cod mwii #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost riley fic

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tinyowlthoughts · 2 months

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Humans are Space Orcs - Chocolate

"Ugh, I would kill for some chocolate right now."

Gorvan fumbled the holopad he'd been typing on, all four hands brushing against the screen as he tried to keep it from hitting the ship floor. He failed and it bounced off the tiles - thankfully neither breaking, nor denting the flooring. Grimacing, he swept it up with his tail and checked over the casing, before the alarming words registered in his head. A glance at the couch showed the human - Max - hadn't moved - still twisted up in their weird, pretzely way, chin in their weird five-fingered hand as they peered at the passing stars with a far-away look in their eyes.

"You, uh, want...chocolate?" He asked, certain he'd misheard.

"Oh my god, yes." Max heaved a sigh, shoulders rising to their weird, inefficient ears before dropping back down. "Jesus, I'd even eat a Hershey's Bar right now."

Gorvan gripped his tablet with two of his hands, hard enough to crack the casing. "Oh, um - what is a 'Hershey'?"

Max didn't look away from the window, still lost gazing into the galaxy. "It's a type of chocolate bar from Earth. Maybe a Mars Bar or a Milky Way would be better..."

Gorvan huffed through his nostrils, tail lashing anxiously behind him. "Oh. Um. I - er, I forgot I have a meeting with Captain! I have to go." Without waiting for an answer he turned and fled the recreation room, hooved feet clattering against the floor, desperate to report what he had heard. He missed the bemused look Max gave him before returning to his star gazing.

🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫🌌🍫

"Max."

The human paused upon entering the meeting room, seeing the rest of the C7H8N4O2 Star Explorer gathered around the table. All eight were tense in their seats, and the moth-like Elaana looked like she'd been crying. (Well, the species equivalent, which appeared as a dusting of pollen along her sharp cheekbones.)

Taurvin, the captain, was sitting in the largest seat at the head of the table, his considerable bulk looming over the rest of them. Oddly, the first-mate seat to his left was empty. Gorvan was instead sitting in Max's own.

"Uh, hey all. We playing musical chairs?" Max glanced between the empty chair and Gorvan, but when nobody asked for an explanation to their odd human reference (a common occurrence), they figured it wasn't the time for jokes.

"Have a seat, Max." Taurvin motioned to the first mate seat and, with a bit of hesitation, Max moved to take it. Luckily Gorvan, despite being bulky himself, wasn't too much larger than a standard human and the chair was comfortable enough. "We have something important to address."

Oh god above, what had they done this time? Max tried to think back to all the interactions he'd had onboard the last few weeks, but couldn't come up with anything too egregious. Sure, there was the whole joke with 'human snot is acidic' thing but that had been more of a gross-out joke for Elaana, the ships medic, who hadn't seemed to upset when he accidentally sneezed on her a few days later and dropped the act. Epitak, the ships engineer, had been pretty pissed when ze found out Max had taken apart the air filtration unit in their quarters to try and understand how it worked, but ze had also walked him through repairing it, so they thought it was all forgiven.

Oh jeeze, had they found the plans to get a kitten onboard under the 'emotional assistance animal' loophole?

"Max." Taurvin's normally jolly voice was grave, and all the crews eyes were on them as he spoke. "It has come to my attention that you have been expressing some...troubling thoughts."

Okay, definitely the kitten thing then. "Look, I can explain," they started, but Taurvin held up a large, three-fingered hand and stopped them.

"I do not want you to feel pressured to speak to us if you do not wish to. As a member of the Intergalactic Exploration Society, you have access to mental health resources at no cost, any time, anywhere. I will be more than happy to assist you in setting up a link to a therapist through HR and, if required, will grant you time off the ship if you need it. You are the best navigator I have ever seen, and I do not want to lose you."

"Well, thanks, but uh, what do you mean?" Max glanced around the table and noticed that their normally upbeat crew were all showing signs of distress (Elaana was brushing away newly fallen pollen from her compound eyes).

"Max, you requested chocolate." Gorvan reminded them. "This morning, you said you would even eat a substance known as a Hershey Bar from your home planet." The human had never heard the first mate sound so distressed. When Max just blinked, Epitak took over, beak clacking anxiously as ze spoke.

"We understand that many planets have government programs in place for self euthanasia," ze explained, technical as always in his word choice, "but we aboard this ship would much rather assist you in healing rather than lose you, despite what you may feel is best for you. Suicide by theobromine is not the way forward."

"...what."

"It's okay, love!" The pollen was flowing freely from Elaana's eyes now, and she blinked it away with her long lashes. If there weren't a table between them, Max was sure she would have bundled them up in a full-wing hug and refused to let them go. "We'll support you through it all, we promise. You're part of our crew - our family, and we never want you to feel otherwise!"

"Well, uh, thanks. I see you all as family too...?" Max glanced at the four remaining crew members. Dhaca and Lenzoill were quiet but obviously upset, Qhals was staring at the ceiling with their fanged muzzle pulled into a tight grimace, and Ir'ith was -

Ir'ith was smirking.

Max narrowed their eyes at the inventory manager who also served as the ships cook (for the simple fact that he was the only one onboard who could cook). The zad merely shrugged when their eyes met, though his grin was growing.

"I think I'm missing something here." Max admitted, looking between Gorvan and Taurvin. "This is all because I got a chocolate craving?"

"A craving?" Elaana almost lunged across the table at the word, the only thing holder her back Ir'ith's hand on her shoulder. "You mean you've had chocolate before?"

"Well, yeah? All the time." Max was not expecting the horrified expressions they received.

"So humans treat theobromine as a drug?" Epitak asked, aghast.

"Noooo...? It's a dessert. Like, a sweet treat." Max had no idea what was going on now, but by the way Ir'ith's shoulders were shaking, he did. "Hershey's is a candy bar."

"Wait," Dhaca finally spoke up, leaning forward and shoving his glasses (well, glass - one lens for one eye and all) to the top of his head, "theobromine is not toxic to humans?"

"I'm assuming that theo-stuff is chocolate?" When Dhaca nodded, Max nodded in return. "Yeah, no, chocolate isn't toxic to humans. I ate it all the time on Earth."

Ir'ith gave up and cackled, sounding a bit like the grackles Max used to watch in their back garden on Earth. The avian's wings flapped a few times as he laughed, having to lean forward and grasp his stomach with taloned claws to keep himself from falling out of his chair. When he finally glanced up at Max, it was to the flattest look the human could manage, which only sent him into another gale of laughter.

Taurvin sighed, pinching the bridge of his boar-like snout. "I believe this has all been a misunderstanding," he spoke over the cooks laughter, which had turned into squeaky gasps. "Dismissed."

A few befuddled glances were thrown Max's way, but the rest of the crew were quick to leave, avoiding Ir'ith's flapping wings as they squeezed out of the room. Soon only the cook, first mate, captain, and navigator were left.

"Sorry, kid." Ir'ith finally came up for breath, wiping at his eyes as he regained his composure. He fished into one of the many pockets that adorned his poncho and produced a bar wrapped in purple foil, which he tossed to Max. The human caught it and felt their whole face light up. "No hard feelings, right?"

"None at all, dude!" Max tore open the wrapping and took a big bite of the Cadbury Dairy Milk Bar, nearly melting at the familiar, sweet flavor exploding on their tongue.

"For the record," Ir'ith said as he stood, cracking his back, "Zad's can eat chocolate to. Let me know next time you have a craving." He sauntered out of the room, humming happily.

The three sat in silence for a moment, other than the crinkle of the chocolate bar wrapper. Finally, Taurvin cleared his throat.

"Max, I apologize for not conferring with you in private beforehand." The captain sighed. "I did not wish to embarrass you, but an intervention was suggested and I believed that comfort from your crew would be the best way to show the seriousness of our support were you truly entertaining the thought of self euthanasia."

The human shrugged. "It was nice to hear you all care about me, even though I've only been on board a few months," they admitted. "And I got chocolate out of it." He wiggled the remains of the bar.

"Still, if you ever feel the need for mental health services, they are available to you. And if there is ever anything I or the rest of the crew can do to assist you in that way, please don't hesitate to ask." Taurvin placed a hand on his chest and bowed his head, a show of sincerity for his people.

"Well," Max tapped the chocolate against their chin in thought, "there may be one thing. Have you ever heard of cats?"

Next: Bluffing

Original Reddit Prompt:

#humans are space orcs #writing #blurb #The EC Theobromine

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muwapsturniolo · 22 days

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✯BUBBLE POP ELECTRIC✯

Black!reader x Greaser!Chris

In which… Y/n and Chris have been going steady for a couple of months now, and she’s finally ready to give him all her love in the backseat.

Warnings: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! FINGERING, MENTIONS OF BODY PARTS, RIDING, Exhibitionism, IF I MISSED ANYTHING LET ME KNOW!

“Come on Chris! When are you gonna get here!” Y/n huffs as she walks around her room, her white lace socks meshing with the baby-pink carpet.

She was being impatient.

She and Chris have been going steady for a couple of months now, going on dates, making out under the bleachers, and him sneaking through her window to help her fall asleep.

It was the typical high school relationship in her eyes, but she planned on making it even better.

“Alright alright, you hold your tight little ass I’ll be there in a minute-“ his thick Boston accent comes through the line. She becomes flustered hearing him speak about her ass, never use to the way he compliments her.

She knows Chris wants to make it to third base, but he’s been very patient with her and she is forever grateful. He’s a wonderful boyfriend and she wants to repay him.

“-You just get yourself dolled up, alright babydoll? And you pick the place for tonight, I picked last time.” She can hear him chomping down on the gum that’s in his mouth as he speaks.

Y/n stops pacing her room and takes a deep breath, “umm, Chris?”

“Yeah, dollface?”

“I know you said you will be here soon but hurry…because tonight’s the night.” She waits anxiously for a response, only being met with silence on the other end.

“You sure dollface? You know I don’t have a problem with waiting.” Her heart warms at his words; He was never one to push her to give up her virginity, always telling her when she’s ready that’s when it will happen.

“I’m sure…I’m even wearing those shorts and the top you love.” She giggles out. He sucks in a sharp breath and begins speaking, she can hear the smirk on his face. “You sure know how to tease me babydoll. Alright, I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

They say their 'goodbyes' and end the call, Y/n squealing to herself. She skips over to her vanity and finishes up her makeup.

She can’t believe that she and Chris are going to have sex tonight. It’s been a long time coming, the tension high between them. Y/n has been waiting for this moment!

She was a virgin, not a prude.

She had her needs, always feeling empty and needing to be fulfilled. That need was to the ceiling now that she’s actually in love with someone.

It was always on her mind, the thought making her restless. She always did her best to keep it from Chris, wanting to be a good girl and not come off too strong, but she couldn’t hold back anymore.

She wanted Chris to take her now and do her justice.

She’s finished her makeup and is now sitting on her bed, her leg bouncing anxiously as she anticipates his arrival. She groans and throws her body backward onto her bed, she always hated how long it took Chris to get to her house.

20 minutes to be exact, 25 on a bad traffic day.

As she waits for him, she begins to think of their date night. Even though Chris told her to pick a place for them to go, all she can think about is sex.

She knows they couldn’t go back to her’s or his, and she knows for sure a hotel is out of the question. She flips on to her stomach with a huff and tries to think of where they could have their fun.

She gasps when it hits her,

His car!

That’s it, tonight she’s going to give him all her love in the back seat. It wouldn’t be the most ideal or comfortable situation, but they could make something work. Maybe she could be on top? Slowing it down and speeding it up.

Now that she has a plan, she’s even more impatient.

“Y/n stop biting your nails!” She jumps and looks at her mother through the mirror, smiling sheepishly.

“Calm down! I’m sure Chris is on his way.” Her mother tries to ease her nerves. “Ok I know he’s on his way now, but jeez Louise, today now!”

Her mother thinks it’s just her being super excited to see her boyfriend. That’s part of the reason, but Y/n is ready to play and win this game, she can’t wait any longer.

She can’t wait to finally see what her friends have been talking about. She knows Chris is big, she’s felt him through his pants on multiple occasions and god, she couldn’t wait to get a taste of his candy.

As she sits and thinks about the night to come, she feels a tingle in her privet area. She knows what it is, usually having to clench her legs and handle it at home when she is done being with Chris. A wide smile takes over her face when she realizes that Chris would be the one to handle it tonight.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts by the doorbell ringing. She gasps and runs out of her room, “I’ll get it!” She yells in excitement.

“Y/n what did I tell you about running in my house!?” She ignores her mother’s words and swings the door open.

She’s greeted by Chris leaning against the frame, toothpick in his mouth. He’s dressed in his typical outfit of dark blue jeans, and a white muscle tee. His infamous leather jacket is thrown over his body as well as black and white Converse adorning his feet.

His hair isn’t as slicked back as he usually likes it, letting its natural wispy state take over.

Y/n clenches her thighs as she stares at him, never getting used to seeing him. A shy smile makes its way over her face, “Hi Chris.”

He smirks seeing her flustered state, “Hey babydoll.” She grins before pulling him inside the house, “let me go get my sweater!” She rushes away before he can say anything. Chris looks around the home before waving to her dad who’s walking past, “Hi Mr. Y/l/n. Nice to see you again sir.” Chris sticks out his hand to greet your father.

Shockingly the two got along, your dad not caring about what side of the tracks Chris came from. “Christopher! Nice to see you again! What do you two have planned tonight!”

“She planned it, but I know it’s going to be lots of fun.” He does his best to hide the look on his face. Your dad shrugs and smiles, “Well, be safe! You kids have fun, not too much fun!” As he walks away Chris mumbles to himself.

“Too much fun will definitely be had.”

“By Mom! By Daddy!”

Y/n rounds the corner and grabs Chris’s hand, dragging him out of the house and to his car. She loves his car, granted she doesn’t know the model, but she loves the cherry red color and the fact that the roof comes off.

He opens the door for her, slapping her ass as she climbs in. She squeals and looks back at him with an annoyed look.

“Chris!”

He says nothing as he closes the door and gets in on the drivers side. He settles down and pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lighter. He puts the cancerous stick in his mouth and lights it, throwing the lighter in the console compartment.

“Where you wanna go princess?” He asks as he pulls out of the driveway. She giggles at the nickname and turns to him.

“Drive in movie.”

It’s a triple entendre.

Drive in movie, drive in move me, and drive into me.

Chris catches on and shakes his head, chuckling to himself. “Anything for you dollface.” He steps on the gas and flies through the streets of Boston, cigarette in his mouth, one hand on the wheel while the other is gripping her thigh.

They arrive at the drive-in, seeing a couple of their mutual friends in their respective cars. “Can you park in the back?” She asks him softly.

Chris nods and drives through the lot, finding a park that’s in the back and away from everyone else, while still having a good view of the movie that’s playing.

He turns off the car and grabs his wallet before handing her some cash, “you wanna go get us some snacks while I say hi to the boys?” She nods and turns to get out of the car, but he stops her.

“I haven’t gotten to kiss you yet.” He watches as she becomes flustered, a smile taking over her face as she looks away from him. He leans over the console and grabs her jaw, pulling her closer.

“Always so shy,” he mumbles as his eyes dart across her face, taking in every detail he loves and could never get enough of. Y/n closes her eyes as Chris pulls her into a passionate and loving kiss, easing away any worry she has about tonight. She melts into his touch, leaning further into him in attempts to get more. Chris smiles as he pulls away from her.

he chuckles hearing her whine, she was always the one begging for more kisses

“Greedy girl-" he taps the side of her face twice before unlocking the car door, "-Go get your snacks baby,” she huffs as she climbs out of the car, speed walking to the concession stand where her friends stand.

Chris climbs out as well, walking over to his friends. He does their handshake before settling against the car, "We saw you and your betty over there getting hot and steamy.” The group falls into laughter as Chris smirks, his eyes falling on Y/n at the snack stand with her friends.

“Just giving her taste of what’s going to happen tonight,”

His friends begin to hoot and holler, aggressively patting him on the back. a cocky smirk makes its way onto his face as he ashes out his cigarette.

“That’s our boy!”

“About time!”

Meanwhile, Y/n is gushing about tonight to her friends.

“Are you nervous? I would be.” Her friend Janet states. Y/n nods as she gives the worker the money, “I’m nervous but I know it will be fine. Chris will take care of me.” Her friends squeal and hug her, bouncing up and down in excitement.

“You have to tell us how it goes!”

“How what goes?” Chris asks as he walks up behind Y/n, his hand sliding into the pocket of her high-waisted shorts. Her friends giggle before running away to their respective cars.

Chris smiles and looks down at her, “you were talking about me to your friends?”

“No," she lies swiftly, too embarrassed to confess that she was in fact talking about him.

He kisses her forehead before eyeing the snack stand, “What’d you get us?” on cue the concession stand worker sets the snacks out for them, handing Chris the change.

“Good choices, keep the change babydoll and use it to get your nails done ok?”

“Ok,” she stands on her toes and kisses his cheek. They grab their snacks and walk back to the car, Chris’s hand on the nape of her back.

They get in the backseat just as the movie begins, leaning against each other and getting lost in the movie. Halfway through, Chris leans down and whispers in her ear, “Sit on my lap” She looks up at him in confusion but does as told. He pulls her back against his chest and starts kissing along her shoulder.

He runs his hands up and down her sides before putting them on her thighs.

“Chr-You gonna let me touch you?” He cuts her off as his hands get higher on her thighs. She takes a shakey breath and nods,

This is what she wanted.

“Gotta hear you say it dollface.” His breath is warm against her ear, goosebumps rising along her body.

“Yes”

He hums before draping the blanket over the both of them, “Pull your shorts down f’me.” She shakes as she lifts her waist up to pull her shorts down, leaving her in an orange thong. Chris catches a small glimpse and he feels his pants tighten. Y/n feels it too, her cheeks warming.

He kisses her shoulder once again, “You wore the orange ones on purpose, didn't you?" She giggles softly, leaning further into him. "do you like it?" He goes back to kissing her shoulder, running his hands over her body. He rubs over her stomach before sneaking up her shirt, running his hands over her covered breasts and squeezing them softly.

"Of course I do. Is it a matching set?" He tweaks her nipples through the acey material. "S-Stop teasing," she whines, spreading her legs in the process.

He chuckles before moving his hands back to her legs, rubbing on the inner thigh. He grabs hold of her thong and moves it to the side, trailing a single finger through her folds and gathering her wetness. She exhales and closes her eyes as he begins to spread her wetness around.

He circles her clit, still kissing along her shoulder. She moans softly, her eyes still closed. She’s touched herself before, multiple times, but Chris is bringing her a whole new feeling. His fingers moved diligently to satisfy the ache between her legs.

He uses his other hand to slide two fingers into her, “C-Chris.” She mewls as he begins to guide them in and out. Although the volume of the movie is loud, the squelching from her wet cunt is even louder.

Chris is getting harder each second, the sounds of her moans fueling his lust. He can tell she's close, her walls squeezing his fingers tightly. He curls his fingers, rubbing that special spot that makes her gasp and grab his wrist. "You're close doll. Squeezing m'fingers like a vice. you gonna let go for me?" She vigorously nods her head, biting her lip to suppress her moans. He speeds up both of his hands, making sure to keep hitting that sweet spot inside of her.

That familiar pressure fills her stomach but it's hotter than usual. "Come on babydoll, let go for me." Her grip on his wrist tightens as she throws her head back, a high-pitched moan leaving her throat. Chris feels her juices splash against his hand and something inside of him snaps.

He pulls his fingers away and quickly turns her around so she’s facing him.

He grabs her neck and pulls her in for a deep and passionate kiss. Their tongues dance with each other, teeth clashing and all. She wraps her arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, softly grinding against him.

"Fuck-" he mutters through the kiss. "- raise yourself up." He taps her thigh twice.

She pulls away from the kiss and lifts herself up, giving him room to pull his pants and boxers down.

His cock springs free and Y/n is baffled. She knew he was big but this is a different territory. Chris sees the uneasiness on her face,

“Dollface?”

She looks at him hesitantly, “Y-you're too big” He chuckles at her nervousness and pulls her closer, her wetness slicking him up. She moans softly at the traction, "What? You wanted me to be small?" She huffs at his taunting, making him chuckle once again. "lift yourself up for me...that's it babydoll."

She adjusts her position on top of him and holds onto his shoulders. He grips her waist tightly, biting his lip as he looks down between them. He grabs the base of his dick and lines it up at her entrance, "sit down baby."

She slowly begins to lower herself on to him, the stretch burning the slightest bit. She holds her breath and stops, “hey, breathe baby. You gotta relax if you want to fit it all.” She nods and takes a deep breath before sinking all the way down. Chris’s grip tightens on her waist feeling her warm walls against him.

He's dreamt of this many times, imagining how warm and wet she would be.

It's more than he ever imagined.

She closes her eyes and leans against him, her body shaking slightly against his.

“You ok princess?”

“I-I just need a minute.” She whimpers, the stretch still burning. He nods and begins kissing all over her face, mumbling sweet words of encouragement.

She takes a shakey breath and slowly begins to rock her hips, biting her lip as the pleasure takes over her mind and body.

She wants more.

She switches from grinding to bouncing up and down, building a steady tempo. Chris throws his head back and lets out a low groan, his hands guiding her up and down. She lets out a mix of soft whimpers and moans, gripping Chris’s shoulders tightly.

He opens his eyes and sees her looking at him with those innocent eyes.

It drives him crazy.

“Taking me so well dollface,” he grunts, thrusting upward. She lets out a loud moan and falls forward against Chris, his actions taking her by surprise. He wraps his arms around her torso, holding her tightly as he begins to buck his hips upwards.

"F-fuck Chris!"

"Such a dirty mouth-shit- what did I tell you about swearing?"

She lets out a small scream when he forces her down to meet his thrust. He feels his legs getting tired so he stops thrusting and lays them down, hiking her body closer before continuing to thrust into her.

The whole car is shaking, the squeaking noises being masked by the sounds coming from the big screen a few feet away. A few people have noticed the car rocking and the foggy windows, but they keep their mouths shut.

It's the drive-in, everyone has sex here.

Meanwhile, Y/n is on cloud nine. This is the best experience she could ever ask for. It's not like the horror stories she's heard, and she knows this isn't a one-time thing between her and Chris.

They're in love.

His head is shoved in the crevice of her neck, his lips attacking the soft and warm skin. Her legs are wrapped around his waist, one of her arms holding him while the other is gripping the headrest. Her eyes are closed as her mouth lays open, constant moans and pleas tumbling out of her throat.

"D-daddy please!"

These words make Chris lift his head. he was surprised to hear the taboo words fall from her mouth and he loved it. He snaps his hips at a particular angle making her eyes fly open and her back arch. " There she is, let daddy see those pretty eyes." He grabs the back of her head, lifting it so she has no other option than to look at him.

She does her best to focus on him, the eye contact being intimidating and a bit too much. "C-Chris I- I know baby. You're close aren't you?" She nods vigorously, both of her hands flying to his shoulders.

"Come on dollface, make a mess." He sneaks a hand in between them and starts rubbing at her clit. That familiar coil returns in her stomach and she throws her head back when it snaps. "Nghh I lov-" Thinking she's going to let out the loudest moan of tonight and possibly get them caught, he yanks her forward and presses their lips together.

He rides her out through her orgasm, groaning into the kiss as he paints her walls a nice shade of milky white. He collapses on top of her, rubbing her thighs and kissing the top of her exposed breasts. suddenly the car door opens and a body comes tumbling into the driver's seat shocking the two in the backseat.

Chris quickly covers the both of them with a blanket, "What the hell are you doing ya fucking kook?!" Chris shouts as he stares at David, one of his best friends.

"Hey! If you two are done playin' backseat bingo, I suggest getting back to normal. Movies almost over and the lights are coming on!"

"Get bent David! fuckin' aye!' His friend cackles as Chris swats at him, climbing out of the car and running back to wherever he came from. Chris scoffs as he pulls out of her, sitting up to pull up his pants. "Kids a goof. Swear to god imma knock his teeth out," he mumbles as he buckles his belt.

He looks down at her and sees the dazed look in her eyes, "Come on babydoll, let's get you dressed." He helps her sit up and pulls up her shorts, even buttoning them for her. He looks around for her shirt and realizes that at one point during their rendevous, he ripped it off earlier.

He sees a shirt he left in the back seat and quickly grabs it, slipping it over her head.

The lights in the drive-in turn on, and the sounds of car engines fill the lot. "Come on baby, let's get to the front so we can go." He opens the door and climbs out, helping her out of the car as well. She whines as her legs wobble, Chris having to hold her steady. "I got y-" she slaps his hand away, leaving him confused. "Hey, what's wrong?" He notices the tears in her waterline, threatening to spill over. "Y-you didn't say it back..."

He frowns even harder at her statement, "Say what back baby?"

"I-I said I l-love you and you didn't say it back...you kissed me to shut me up." He sighs and pulls her into into him, resting her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry doll, I should have said it back but I thought you were gonna scream and I didn't want to get caught. You know I love you, I'll repeat it a thousand times if I have to...You know that right?"

"I know..."

"Hey-"

He puts two fingers under her chin and makes her look at him, "I love you." She smiles softly at his words, "I love you too."

"Good, now get your cute ass in the car so we can get some ice cream." Her face lights up at the mention of ice cream, her body moving quickly to sit in the passenger seat. He smiles and closes the door, walking over to the driver's side.

"Hey, Chris?" Y/n asks as she plays with the straw to her shake. "Yeah dollface?" He pulls up in front of her house, leaning back in his seat and lighting a cigarette. "Was... Was tonight good?" Her voice is meek, showing she's a bit insecure about their sexual encounter.

"Of course it was good, I got to spend time with you didn't I?" She huffs and gives him a look of annoyance. "You know what I meant."

"I did-" he gives her a cheeky smile making her throw her straw at him. He laughs and yanks her over the center console, her screams and laughs echoing in the car.

They settle down, her back pressed against the door as her legs draped over the console. He blows the smoke away from her and ashes out the cigarette, "Tonight was more than good, it was amazing, you were amazing." She looks down, hiding behind her hair.

"Your moans were pretty, I could listen to them all day. can't wait until we are alone and you can really be loud." She swats at his chest making him chuckle.

"But I'm serious, you were amazing and beautiful, and I appreciate you trusting me enough to be open and vulnerable." Y/n smiles, her chest filled with warmth and love. They sit like this for a few minutes until her mother opens the front door, waving for her to come inside.

"I better split, I know it's past my curfew." Chris groans and slides the seat back so she can climb out. She closes the door and leans through the window to give him a kiss. As she goes to pull away, he stops her, pulling her closer. She giggles through the kiss, "Chris I have to go!"

He huffs and lets go of her, watching her figure walk away. He whistles catching her attention. She turns around and walks back to the car, "yes Chris?"

"I love you baby." she tries to fight the smile making its way onto her face but it wins. "I love you too baby. Now goodnight."

She gets halfway up her driveway when a car horn is heard. She whips around and looks at Chris in shock. It's 10 at night and Chris is honking his car horn.

"Yeah, tell your daddy I said hello!" her eyes widen as her face heats up at his words.

"Chris get out of here!" Chris's laugh echoes throughout the quiet neighborhood as he starts his car back up. She rolls her eyes and runs into her house, a smile on her face.

new ficcccc whats good!!!!

this was my entry for @annamcdonalds67 contest they have going on!!! even if i don't win this was really fun to work on and i hope everyone loves it!!! thank you all for reading

xoxo peaches 🍑

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munson-blurbs · 7 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17

Summary: Still questioning your mothering abilities, you finally agree to take a pregnancy test. But when you run into an unexpected familiar face, it leads to some intimate conversations.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), angst, misunderstanding, mention of alcohol consumption, nausea, Reader takes a pregnancy test, mention of menstrual periods/tampons, panic attack, use of medication (prescribed), dirty talk, mutual masturbation, breeding kink, choking, submissive!Reader, mention of public sex (this chapter has a lot so please let me know if I missed something!)

WC: 10.1k

A/N: Thank you to @pastel-pillows, @corroded-hellfire, and @vintagehellfire for beta reading and helping with some dialogue. Y'all make me a horny better writer.

Chapter 17/20

Divider credit to @saradika Harris's card credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers

It’s been one week since you’ve seen Eddie. The phone is silent on the hook, regardless of how strongly you will it to ring.

A wave of nausea ripples through you and has you lunging for the Saltines box on the coffee table. It isn’t unusual for you to feel sick when you’re anxious, and this entire situation definitely has you on-edge. The Jerry Springer audience chants his name from the TV set, though you can barely pay attention to the brawl that’s about to occur.

One week ago, you and Eddie broke up. One week ago, you realized you might be carrying his baby. One week ago, you began what you’d dubbed Self-Pity Spring Break, which was essentially a week of you wallowing in misery and ignoring the nagging question that constantly infiltrates your thoughts.

The movement for the crackers allows you to get a whiff of the pajamas you’d been living in. You’d convinced yourself there was no need to shower since you were barely leaving your apartment, but the odor emanating from your clothes—and your skin—says otherwise. You resignedly stand up and grab a towel from the hall closet, scowling at the box of tampons that’s seemingly taunting you.

Fine, you silently relent, I’ll get a test today.

There’s a forceful knock on the door, and your heart leaps. Eddie. Eddie’s here, we can talk and figure this out–

“Hey, Hermit, you alive in there?” It’s Jess, speaking even as she knocks.

“Coming, coming,” you grumble, not even trying to feign excitement. Maybe it’s better that it’s not Eddie; you’re not sure what you’d even say.

“Jeez, you look awful,” Robin comments, clamping her lips together when Jess shoots her a glare. “Sorry.”

“You’re not wrong,” you mutter. You haven’t looked in the mirror in days, not wanting to confront the reflection staring back at you. Fingertips greasy with old potato chip residue, you wipe them on your pajama pants and sigh. “I feel like shit, too.”

Jess grabs your hand and gives it a little squeeze. “C’mon, let’s get you some wine,” she says kindly, already padding towards the kitchen in search of an open bottle. “It’s five o’clock somewhere.”

You shake your head, throat dry. “I, um, I shouldn’t.” An unspoken plea floats from your lips, begging her not to ask further questions, but you know better than to get your hopes up.

She stops in her tracks, swiveling back in your direction. Her eyebrows pinch together, creasing in the middle. “No.” She waits for the punchline, and when there isn’t one, she envelops you in a hug. “Oh, honey.”

You feel another gentle hand on your back as Robin’s palm rubs comforting circles between your shoulder blades. You can’t pinpoint the moment she became one of your close friends, too; it happened naturally as the relationship between her and Jess became more serious and they spent more time together. Yet it feels as though she’s always been an integral part of your life, and you couldn’t be more thankful, especially in moments like this one.

“I don’t…I haven’t taken a test yet,” you admit bashfully, blinking away rogue tears, “but I’m super late. Like, almost two weeks late.”

Robin scrunches her face, unsure of her response but plunging ahead anyway. “Does Eddie…”

You shake your head. “No, and I’m not telling him either way.” The vitriol in your voice is biting, and both of your friends are taken aback by your anger. “He said that taking care of Harris was too much for me to handle; you think he wants to raise a whole other kid with me?”

“Okay, okay,” Jess softly interrupts your tirade, not needing to hear your break-up story for the fourth time. “First things first: you gotta take a test. Do you have one here?”

“Mm-mm.”

“Then Robs and I will go with you to the pharmacy.”

“I don’t wanna go,” you whine, sounding more like Harris than ever.

Jess sighs. “You’re leaving this apartment whether you like it or not.” She motions towards her girlfriend. “She’s stronger than she looks, so we will use force if we have to.”

“Fine.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can I at least shower first?”

“Please,” Jess mutters, grateful that she didn’t have to make the suggestion herself.

The shower water is scalding hot, but you don’t have the energy to fiddle with the knob until it’s a decent temperature. Instead, you stand underneath the stream and idly sway back-and-forth. You grab the Dial bar from the soap tray, lathering your body and taking good care to scrub under your arms. The suds slide down and swirl around the drain before disappearing entirely. You can only wish they took your problems with them.

You dry off as quickly as you can, throwing on the first pair of sweatpants you can find and a faded concert t-shirt from when you saw Joan Jett perform in ‘89. Dragging your tired body back out to where your friends are waiting, you grab a jacket out of the closet, stomach turning as soon as you put your arms through the sleeves. You haven’t worn this since last weekend, and the smell of Eddie’s cologne still faintly lingers. It’s like he’s there wrapping himself around you, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Except he’s not here, his scent only serving as a painful reminder of what you used to have.

If he was here right now, what would he be doing? Cursing the broken condom that led to this chaos? Berating himself for getting another woman pregnant? And not just any woman; this would be the second woman he’d knocked up who’d failed to be a decent mother. This time; however, he’d know about your shortcomings before the baby could even arrive, before it could develop fingers and toes and have its own little heartbeat…

With a heavy sigh, you drag your feet out the door and into Jess’s car. Nausea creeps up on you the closer you get to your destination, and for the first time in your life, you pray it’s only carsickness.

Murphy’s Law states that “anything that can go wrong, will go wrong,” and that’s exactly what happened to Eddie this week.

First, he’d all but gotten confirmation that you were overwhelmed at the prospect of being a family, of being his partner, and eventually being a parent to Harris. Your silence when he’d asked if it was “too much” was deafening. He’d thought about calling you, even picked up the phone and dialed the first few digits on more than one occasion, but ultimately hung up. There’s no sense in trying to force you into a life you have no interest in, no matter how badly it hurts him to be without you.

Then, this morning, Harris had woken up at 6:30 AM, howling in pain. Eddie had nearly fallen out of bed at the sudden burst of sound, rushing to his son’s side to figure out the issue.

“My ear!” Harris wailed, pressing a tiny palm to the side of his head. “It hurts so bad!”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie murmured. He tried to pull Harris’s hand from his ear to get a better look, but quickly stopped when the boy cried out in agony, rivaling a Wilhelm Scream.

He called the pediatrician and got the earliest appointment available, arriving at the office before they’d even opened. The receptionist had given him a strange look as he barreled through the doors, Harris hoisted in his arms.

Forty-five arduous minutes later, the doctor took one look inside Harris’s ear canal and diagnosed him with an ear infection, scribbled out a barely-legible prescription for antibiotics, and sent the Munsons on their way.

Now, Eddie slams the sedan door shut as he walks into the pharmacy for the second time today, mumbling about his shit luck. He’d brought Harris to Wayne’s trailer after dropping off the prescription once they informed him that it would be a two-hour wait. There was no sense in forcing the poor kid to sit around the drugstore when he desperately needed a nap, Eddie reasoned, ignoring his own exhaustion. He makes up his mind right then and there that, in addition to whatever bubblegum-flavored concoction he’s picking up for Harris, he’s getting a pack of Camels. The stress is just too damn much for Nicorette to handle.

He makes a beeline for the pharmacist, nodding along as she explains that the medicine should be taken twice daily with food.

“Do you have any questions?” she asks patiently, a kind smile on her lips.

“N-No,” Eddie stammers, the paper bag crinkling in his grasp. “Thanks,” he throws out haphazardly, already hyper-focused on securing the cigarettes. He can practically taste the tobacco on his tongue, smoke filling his lungs. He’ll quit again tomorrow, once all of this is–

“Is this it? EPT?” A familiar voice briefly grabs Eddie’s attention, but he quickly brushes it off. It’s a small town; everyone’s bound to recognize each other after a while.

It’s the response that truly draws him in, a timid, “y-yeah, I think so.”

Eddie swivels around, cigarettes long forgotten, peering down each aisle until he finds you. You’re standing with Robin Buckley—the voice he’d recognized earlier—and Jeff’s sister-in-law, Jess.

“Hi,” he blurts out, shoving his free hand in his pants pocket. His heart breaks at the defeated look in your eyes, swollen from days of crying. He wants to pull you in for a hug and feel your arms wrap around him, relishing in your safety.

It only takes a half-second for his gaze to drop to the pink box clenched in your death grip, a pathetic attempt to hide it from him. “Wh-What’s that?” He’s suddenly all-too aware that you’re all standing in the Family Planning section, and unless science has made some extraordinary progress lately, it’s unlikely that Jess and Robin need anything here. “Are you—”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” You regain as much composure as you can. “But whatever I am, I can handle it by myself.” You’re unsure of the truth behind that statement, but you refuse to let him see you waver.

Eddie takes another step forward, removing his hand from his pocket and taking the test from you. You’re hesitant to relinquish it, but you ultimately concede.

“Let me pay for this, at least,” he says softly, not waiting for your reply before tucking it under his arm and heading to the cashier.

“Eddie—”

“You’ll take it at my place,” he continues as though you hadn’t just spoken his name, “and if you’re…if it’s…we’ll, uh, we’ll figure out where to go from there.”

You shake your head. “I don’t need your help,” you protest, firmly but not unkindly. “Seriously, I’ve got this.” Be done with me. Just let me go, Eddie. Find someone who deserves your—and Harris’s—time.

Eddie places the test on the counter, digging into his wallet for the dingy MasterCard he keeps tucked away for emergencies. You cringe at the cost; if you’d known Eddie would insist on footing the bill, you would have chosen a cheaper option.

“I can take this at home. Robin and Jess will be with me,” you push on as the four of you leave the store. You turn to them for back-up, frowning when Robin gives you a tight smile and Jess shrugs.

“I…think you should take it at Eddie’s,” she offers, trying to ignore the death glare you’re sending her way.

“If you need us, just call, and we’ll pick you up,” Robin hurriedly adds, quickly squeezing your upper arm before the two of them leave you and Eddie alone.

Without thinking, Eddie’s hand slips into yours. Maybe it’s because you’re more scared than you’ve ever been in your life, maybe it’s because his gentle demeanor has breathed new life into your love for him, but you let him keep it there.

The hum of the sedan’s engine is the only sound until Eddie speaks again.

“How long have you known? Or, thought, I guess,” he asks, drumming his ringed fingers on the steering wheel.

You don’t want to answer truthfully, but you’re too tired to lie. “Since last week.”

“Last week?” He slams on the break, instinctively putting an arm in front of you to protect you from injury. No matter that your seatbelt had been clicked in place since you’d sat down. “Shit, sorry.” He clears his throat. “Like, before the trip? Or…”

“On the bus ride home,” you clarify, shame seeping through every pore. It had seemed so natural to keep this information to yourself, but now you just feel stupid for not letting him in earlier. The baby–if there even is a baby–is his, too.

Eddie breathes out a long sigh, followed by silence until he poses yet another question. “Does anyone else know?”

“Yeah, I rented out a billboard in Times Square,” you quip before you can stop yourself. “Sorry, that was bitchy.” Maybe you’re just trying to fool yourself, but you swear you see a faint smile on his lips. “Um, no. Just you, Jess, and Robin.”

He nods. “Harris’s at Wayne’s, so it’ll only be us.” Eight days ago, that statement would be associated with passion; punctuated with a grab of your ass, a kiss to your neck, fingers gliding over your breast. Your heart lurches with longing, but you shove it deep down. That’s what got us into this whole mess, you remind yourself.

Still, his grip on the gearshift as he throws the car in park has you internally shouting for him to grasp your knee in the same manner. You’re moving in slow motion, providing him with ample time to get out and open your door for you.

“Thanks,” you whisper, but when he extends his hand to help you up, you fight the urge to accept it. Whatever the results of this test are, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’d said that parenthood was too much for you to handle. And you refuse to selfishly burden their family with your inadequacy.

Eddie rakes his fingers through his hair, casually playing off the rejection, but you don’t miss the brief pained expression in the scrunch of his nose.

Neither of you utter a word as you walk up to his apartment, your footsteps echoing throughout the stairwell. His hands are trembling so violently that he drops the key in front of his door; it lands on the floor with a tiny ping.

“Y’okay?” It’s an absurd question, but you’re unsure what else you can possibly say.

“Um, no,” he admits with a terse laugh. “I went into Rite Aid to get medicine and came out with a possibly pregnant…” He almost says girlfriend, but stops himself just in time. “So, yeah, I’m far from okay.”

He finally manages to open the door, pushing it open so you can go in first. You stand in the living room, feet glued to the floor. Your legs are weak beneath you, threatening to give out at any moment.

“I can’t do this,” you mumble, words catching in your throat. Your vision goes blurry with tears. “I just…” you trail off, shaking your head incredulously. “We were so careful, and the condom went and broke that one time…”

Eddie’s palm cups your chin delicately, calloused skin grazing smooth. “Listen to me.” His voice is calm despite his body brimming with nerves, “what’s done is done, okay? You’re either having my baby, or you’re not.” My baby, my baby, my baby. As he says it, his gaze flits down to your stomach. “But we have to know.”

You nod, unable to fully accept the weight of his words. “Do you have, like, a paper cup or something for me to pee in?”

“Yeah.” He shuffles over to the small linen closet next to the bathroom and grabs a Dixie cup from a stack. “Did you want me to go in with you, or wait out here…I, um, don’t really know the protocol.”

You manage a tiny laugh at his candor, despite the unfavorable circumstances that brought you back to his home. “You can just wait out here,” you tell him. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

Your heart skips a beat as you close the bathroom door, and lock it behind you. Eddie’s voice is muffled outside the door as he talks on the phone, ending the conversation with, “thanks, Old Man,” before you hear the soft click of the receiver being replaced on the hook.

You lay everything out on the countertop in front of you, scanning each object in disbelief. The words on the instruction sheet swim away, leaving only tidbits in their wake.

If two lines appear, this indicates a positive result. Call your doctor for further evaluation.

You read that line over and over. If two lines appear, you’re pregnant with your ex-boyfriend’s child. It’s going to take a lot more than an obstetrician to evaluate that chaos.

You pull down your pants, then your underwear, nestling the paper cup between your thighs. Eddie’s reminder replays in your head: what’s done is done.

It’s easier for him to say; it’s not his body, but the sentiment remains true. All you have to do now is find out exactly what you’ve done.

You gingerly drop the paper strip into the cup, watching as the control line begins to darken. The instructions advised you to wait twenty minutes for the results; according to the digital watch adorning your wrist, that will put you at 12:18 PM.

You don’t have to wait that long.

The familiar reddish tinge that stains the toilet paper is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen. It almost seems too good to be true, so you take a fresh square and wipe again. This time, it’s even more pronounced.

An involuntary laugh that bubbles up from your throat, scaring even yourself. You can hear Eddie outside the door, stumbling over his feet to stand.

“Wh-What’s going on? What happened?” His hands twist the knob with no success. “Can I come in?”

“Y-Yeah,” you manage, smiling so wide you can barely speak, “I just got my period.”

There’s a long pause, then, “like…now?”

“Right now. At this very second,” you confirm, sending you into a fresh fit of giggles. You grab a tampon from your bag with far too much enthusiasm, unlocking the door once you’ve washed your hands and put yourself back together.

“We can still wait for the result, if you want,” you tell him. A strand of hair falls in front of his eyes when he nods in agreement; without thinking, you brush it away. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” you mumble. You feel yourself shrink inwards, palpably embarrassed of the intimacy of your slip-up.

“Do it again.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “What?”

“Do it again,” he repeats, and when your fingertips make contact with his hair, gently tucking it behind his ear, his own hand slides into place against your cheek. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

You say nothing, letting your body language speak for you in the slight upward tilt of your head as your lips find his, noses almost colliding in haste. Your hand slips down to his bicep as you accept his touch, parting your lips to allow his tongue to enter while your own breathy moan exits.

The sound has him tugging you closer, grabbing the hem of your shirt and inadvertently pinching a bit of skin in his hurry. The sudden twinge of pain snaps you out of the moment, and you take a step back.

“We can’t…” You take a deep breath, gathering the thoughts that have been jumbled by his touch. “We’re not together anymore,” you finish dumbly, cracks splintering through your heart as you hear it aloud. Not together.

Eddie’s voice is hardly above a whisper. “I know.” But his thumb traces over the plush of your lips in memorization. “Can I ask you something before you go?”

You contemplate it, rolling it over your tongue and finally relenting when you remember you’re still waiting for the official test result. “Sure.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” There’s hurt in his voice, and more than a hint of anger, though you certainly can’t blame him.

“I didn’t want to worry you in case it was nothing…which it was,” you hastily add, needing to hold on to the lightness of the false alarm.

“No, I’m not talking about that,” he rebuts, continuing when you cock your head in confusion. “Why didn’t you tell me that taking care of Harris was too much for you?” Realization floods his body, carefully curated thoughts giving way to a horrified stream of consciousness. “Or was I too much?”

Bewilderment raises your eyebrows. “I never said that taking care of Harris was too much for me. You did.”

“Me?” He scoffs, pushing his body back with a slight bend at the hips, hands shoved into his pants pockets, rings peeking out over their seams. “No, I didn’t. I asked you, and you never gave a straight answer. Any answer, really.”

You think back to that confrontation, trying to remember the inflection in his voice: ‘s too much for you, isn’t it? In your insecurity-laden state, you’d assumed that it was a declaration of your shortcomings; now, you’re able to see what he’d actually meant.

He was trying to reach out, his own self-doubts bleeding through, but you were so consumed with all of the ways you’d failed him and Harris that you couldn’t see it.

“I…” Your brain is scrambled, unable to catch a single thought. You inhale for three, lungs expanding under your ribcage. The exhale is slower; you need all the time you can to collect yourself. “I messed up so badly…the donut…the elevator…the market…”

Spots dance across your vision as your breathing becomes more rapid and shallow. All you can picture is Eddie’s fear when Harris ran off; your chest is heavy with the same sinking feeling that as when you’d turned around and he was missing.

Your legs wobble beneath you, no longer attached to your body, but a separate entity.

Eddie’s voice is an echo in a tunnel, loud but far away. “I got you,” you hear him say as he leads you to the couch. Your feet move robotically, left right left right until you’re sitting on the lumpy cushion, the same one you’d gotten well acquainted with on that fateful August night.

Donut—elevator—market. Donut—elevator—market. An internal chant that served as a reminder of your failures. “I’m right here, okay? ‘M not going anywhere.” The couch dips a bit as he sits next to you. He hesitates for a split second before his hand is making small, concentric circles on your upper back.

Safety’s warmth crawls in as your physical and psychological worlds slowly merge. You’re in Eddie’s apartment, on his couch, next to him.

“Eddie…” you croak out, but he silences you with a shake of his head.

“Let me talk for a second. Please.” He sighs, not out of impatience, but as a means of gathering his thoughts. “You…you’re everything I ever wanted for myself and for my son. And, I’m gonna be real honest with you here, that scares the shit outta me.” A peal of disbelieving laughter accompanies his confession. “I shouldn’t have had you take him to the playground by yourself or leave you alone with him at the market. Not,” he hurriedly adds, ‘because of you, but because, sometimes, he needs the supervision of two people.” His hand drops from your back and lands on your own fingers, splayed on the couch next to him. “I think I just got so excited that I finally wasn’t parenting solo, y’know? And I relied on you too much.”

You wipe at your cheeks with the back of your hand. “You’re supposed to rely on me,” you counter. “That’s what partners do.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if I wasn’t acting like such a dick, you could’ve told me you felt overwhelmed. Partners tell each other those kinds of things, too.”

“You’re not a dick because you got upset that I lost Harris.” You roll your eyes, not wanting him to downplay his own emotions just to protect yours.

Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “Maybe not,” he acquiesces, ‘but I was a dick when you bought him a donut in the morning, like it was the worst thing that kid’s ever eaten for breakfast.” You both smile at that, knowing full well that Eddie’s had to bribe his son with a Pop-Tart on more than one occasion. “And then you took him to the playground without me even having to ask, just so I could get some rest. And don’t even start in with me about the Great Elevator Meltdown of 1997, because we both know he just would’ve flipped out about something else.” He scoots a millimeter closer to you, wanting to bridge the gap between your bodies without barging past any boundaries. “He was tired and in a new place away from home. A tantrum was damn near inevitable.”

As much as you’d like to wallow in self-pity, you know that it’s true.

“Speaking of the playground,” he continues, “all I heard about for the rest of the weekend was how much fun he had with you.” He throws his voice up an octave to mimic Harris’s tone. “I had the BEST TIME with Ms. Sweetheart! She pushed me on the swing SO HIGH!”

The corners of your mouth tug upwards at the memory. “He said that?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nods, contemplating the next piece of information to divulge. “He, uh, also told me that you love me. Not a little, but a lot.” You watch as the tips of his ears turn scarlet, visible even underneath his layers of curls. “Not sure if that still stands.”

You let your knee gently knock into his, a sliver of an olive branch. “Do you want it to?”

“So fucking much.” It’s a plea, breathy and desperate. “I love you, too.”

You crack a small smile before teasing, “A little, or a lot?”

A ridiculous amount, he thinks. I wake up thinking about you, go to sleep thinking about you, and most of my day in-between is spent thinking about you, too. “A lot, baby. More than I ever thought I could.” His gaze doesn’t leave your lips, chocolate brown eyes drawing you in closer. “Before we…I just need to know. For Harris and for me.” He rubs his palms on his denim-clad thighs, hoping to push away his nerves. “Being in it for the long haul…is that what you want? Because if it’s not, I can’t…y’know…”

You know. You know he can’t muddle through a relationship that has a certain expiration date. You know he can’t bring you into his son’s life any more than he already has if you don’t plan to stick around.

“I’m in it for the long haul,” you tell him, relaxing as a smile overrides the anxiety previously etched into his features. “I’m just scared that I’ll fuck it all up. That I can’t be a good mom to Harris.” You realize too late what you just implied, but judging by Eddie’s unwavering expression, it’s unlikely that this is the first time he’s thought about you filling that position. “At the playground, um,” you fidget with your fingers, suddenly entranced by the ridges of your knuckles, “Harris said that he wants me to be his mommy, but you and Wayne told him not to ask me yet.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his fist before flexing his fingers, rings gleaming in the lamplight. “And that freaked you out?” he supplies, noticeably shocked when you refute his assumption with a shake of your head.

“Not in the way you think,” you say, gnawing on your inner cheek. “He was just so excited, and I started thinking–”

“That was your first mistake,” he jokes, wincing overdramatically when you swat at his chest.

“I started thinking,” you continue, throwing him a playful glare, “that he’d eventually be let down by me, that you’d eventually be let down by me, and that both of you would regret ever meeting me.”

His face falls at your admission, eyes losing their sparkle as he recognizes your fear. He’s been there: anxious about not living up to Harris’s expectations; the inevitable fall from grace when he realizes his dad is flying by the seat of his pants when it comes to parenting. Yes, he knows the feeling all too well, and it shatters his heart that it weighs on you, too. And the fact that you hadn’t told him–hadn’t felt like you could tell him–forms a knot in his gut.

“Baby,” he murmurs. The warmth of his palms envelops your face as he rests them on your cheeks. “Oh, my sweet girl. Don’t you know that that will never happen?” He sighs at your downcast eyes. “I need to tell you a secret, but you have to promise you won’t get weird about it.”

That captures your attention. What does he mean by ‘weird’? Angry? Annoyed? Scared? “What?” you ask, extending the word with an abundance of caution.

“When you told me you might be pregnant…the thought of being responsible for another kid fuckin’ terrified me. But not,” he swallows, a huff of air sufficing for an incredulous laugh, “not the thought of having one with you.”

Your eyes widen, eyebrows practically reaching the edge of your hairline. His unspoken words reverberate in your head: I’m not scared of parenting with you. I’m not scared of whatever journey lies ahead, as long as you’re beside me. I’m not scared of loving you.

Without warning, you press your lips to his. Tangled, messy curls find their way into your fists as you draw nearer to each other in a blur of hands and mouths. Though he’d kissed you only moments earlier, Eddie treats this one like a novelty; a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

To your chagrin, he abruptly breaks the kiss. “Wait right here.” You scrunch your nose as he dashes into his room. You can hear him rummaging through drawers, swearing loudly before slamming it shut and jogging back to the sofa.

“This,” he announces, holding out a small paper bag, “is the reason I asked you to watch Harris at the market.”

You take it, curiosity sufficiently piqued by the air of mystery. Tipping it slightly, you feel a delicate chain snake into your palm. Dangling from the center is a tiny heart pendant.

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” Eddie explains, trying to gauge your expression. “I know it’s not, like, the fanciest jewelry. There’s no diamond or any—”

“I love it.” And you do. God, you do. You quickly bring it to your neck, fumbling with the clasp for a half-second before you feel his strong fingers atop your own.

“I got it,” he murmurs, and you shift slightly to give him a better vantage point.

He adjusts the heart so it’s centered just below your collarbone, lingering a beat longer than necessary before pulling away. “Perfect.” He clears his throat and offers an apologetic smile as he ruefully adds, “I have to get to Wayne’s and give Harris his medicine,” he explains, nodding towards the paper bag on his countertop.

“Eddie!”

“What?”

You laugh, fingers dancing across the prickled stubble along his angular jaw. “You should’ve told me that Harris was sick!” This whole time, you’d just assumed he’d been on a playdate, but now you have an explanation as to why Eddie was in the pharmacy and who the medication is for.

“It’s an ear infection,” Eddie says nonchalantly, standing up and stretching his back. “Besides, when I told Wayne that you were here—I didn’t tell him why, don’t worry,” he throws in for good measure, “he said, and I quote, ‘don’t come back here until you make things right with your girl.’”

Your girl. You’re still Eddie’s girl. “We probably should check on the test before we go.” It’s been soaking in the cup of urine for twenty-three minutes. Padding to the bathroom, you double, triple, and quadruple check the singular pink line. Not a second one in sight, and you breathe out a sigh of relief before cheerfully announcing. “Officially negative!”

Eddie’s still fixated on one word. “You, um, wanna come with me?”

“If that’s okay.” Feeling out boundaries, a toe timidly dipped into the water.

“‘Course it’s okay. Fuck, ‘m just so happy you’re mine again. Missed my girl so much.” He plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “Harris is gonna be so happy to see you.”

Happy might be too strong a word to describe Harris’s reaction when you walk through the door of Wayne’s trailer, squeaking hinges waking him from a restless sleep.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” His voice is thick with grogginess and disbelief. “What’re you doing here?” He clumsily wipes his eyes with his little fists, sweaty from fevered sleep.

You sit next to him on the couch, pushing his sweat-logged curls from his face. “Just came to check on you. I heard my favorite Munson wasn’t feeling well.”

Harris giggles, delighted to be so highly ranked. “Yeah, I got an ear ‘fection. But I just gotta take medicine for it and it’ll go away.”

“Got it right here.” Eddie holds up the bag. “Did you eat anything?”

Harris looks over at his grandfather, not yet awake enough to answer the question.

“Had some toast and jelly right before his nap. ‘Bout…half an hour ago?” Wayne confirms.

Eddie nods, taking the bottle of amoxicillin out of the paper bag and giving it a good shake. You watch as he unscrews the cap and meticulously pours the medicine just to the dosage line. “Here ya go, Har Bear,” he says, walking over to the sofa where his son is half-sitting, half laying. “This’ll make you feel better, okay?”

That’s not a strong enough sell for Harris, who promptly crosses his arms over his chest, wrinkles his nose, and shakes his head in protest. “Yuck.”

“C’mon, please?” Eddie’s face falls in desperation and exhaustion at his son’s refusal. “It’s bubblegum fl–”

“No!” The ferocity in Harris’s objection could rattle the entire trailer.

You take Eddie’s hand and squeeze it reassuringly. “Can he have a cookie?” you whisper in his ear, hopefully low enough that Harris can’t overhear.

“What?” There’s no way you’re going to reward his behavior with a treat, right?

“Just trust me.”

He can do that. “I think Wayne keeps some in the pantry.”

Sure enough, you find an open package of Oreos, the same off-brand kind that Eddie had brought over on Thanksgiving, right on the top shelf. You slide the plastic shell from the case and pull out a cookie, carefully breaking it in half over the sink to avoid spraying crumbs all over the floor.

“Hey, Har, can I tell you my secret trick?” Harris perks up a bit at this, though he doesn’t give an outright answer. “Okay, so you take the medicine, and then you pop the cookie in your mouth super fast so you barely taste it.”

He considers this, mulling it over silently before warily agreeing and holding out his hand. Eddie gives him the medicine-filled cap and holds his breath that your trick will work.

Harris takes the medicine in one grimacing gulp, and as soon as he swallows it down, you give him half of the cookie. “Go, go, go!” you chant excitedly, grinning as he shoves the treat in his mouth, assessing whether it successfully masked the chalky aftertaste.

“Well?” you ask earnestly, heart beating in your chest as you await the outcome.

Harris purses his lips in contemplation, fueling your anxiety. After what seems like decades, he returns your smile tenfold, cookie crumbs wedged between his teeth.

“I did it!” he chirps with a level of enthusiasm that has you and Eddie doubting he’s even sick. “I like that trick.”

You feel Eddie’s arm snake around your waist as he grabs your side in appreciation. “You can have the other half when you take the next dose,” you tell the little boy, lovingly ruffling his curls. “C’mon, let’s get you home so Grampa can get some rest before work.”

The laugh lines around Wayne’s eyes crease in gratitude as Eddie scoops his son into his arms and thanks his uncle for the childcare. You grab the medicine bottle with the hand not holding the Oreo half, echo Eddie’s statement, and close the door behind you.

Eddie buckles Harris in and starts the car, peering through his rearview mirror while the engine grumbles to life. “Y’good back there, Har?”

“Mhm.” There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before he speaks again. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you tell me a story? Like a made-up one from your head?”

“Sure.” You lean back into the seat, thinking of a plot that will last until you get dropped off at your place.

“Once upon a time,” you begin, donning your best narrator voice, “in a tiny little village, there lived three princes who were fighting to be the village’s next king. The villagers didn’t know how to choose between them; after all, they loved all three princes dearly—”

“Daddy’s turn!” Harris interrupts, pointing at Eddie, hands clapping together in gleeful anticipation for the game he’s created.

“Uh, okay,” Eddie stammers, clearly caught off-guard by the request. “So instead of doing a normal vote, the villagers decided to have them battle the evil, ugly troll that lived up on the hill.”

“Now, Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Each prince would try and defeat the troll, and whoever won would be king,” you continue the story, improvising as you go. “The princes packed up their shields and swords—”

“Daddy!”

“And rode their horses up the hill until they reached the troll’s house.” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with a mischievous glimmer as he adds, “but when they got there, the troll refused the typical duel. Instead, he insisted on battling the only way he knew how: a competition of throwing balls into laundry baskets.”

Harris cackles at this but doesn’t ask you to take over, so Eddie keeps talking. “The princes were like, ‘um, this isn’t what we prepared for,’ but the hideous, grotesque troll didn’t care.”

“Ms. Sweetheart!”

You have no idea where this story is headed, but Harris is having the time of his life, so you plunge along. “The troll bared his teeth and hissed to try and frighten the princes, but it didn’t work. They each picked up the ball and tossed it into the laundry baskets, easy-peasy lemon squeezy.” You pause there to see if Harris calls on Eddie, but he doesn’t make a peep. “The troll was so surprised at their skills that—”

This time, Eddie doesn’t wait for his son’s instruction and takes the story over. “—that he stumbled backwards off of the edge of the hill, plummeting into the piranha-infested waters below. The end,” he finishes proudly.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. “Eddie!” you hiss, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle. “You’re gonna traumatize the poor kid!”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, not even bothering to mask his laughter. “He’s out like a light.”

Sure enough, you twist around in your seat to see Harris sound asleep, head tilted against the headrest and mouth agape. A speck of drool collects in the corner of his lips, but he remains undisturbed.

“Medicine must’ve kicked in,” you agree, shifting back to look out your window. The trees flourish with leaves in various shades of green, a colorful promise replacing winter’s barrenness. Hawkins may not be the picturesque postcard town, but there is still some beauty in it.

“Yeah, about that.” Eddie’s brown eyes dance as he steals a glimpse of you before returning his attention to the road. “Do me a favor, ‘kay? Never worry about your parenting skills again.”

Your brows furrow in confusion for a brief moment. “Oh, you mean the trick?”

Eddie nods, tongue unconsciously swiping over his suddenly dry lips.

“That’s just something Grandma did to get me to take medicine as a kid,” you shrug. “She usually gave us Nilla Wafers, but it looks like Oreos make a worthy substitute.”

He doesn’t respond to that directly, simply rests a hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, the hangnail on his thumb scratches against your cotton sweatpants as he tenderly rubs the spot. “It’s okay if you’re not ready to officially take on the ‘mom’ role in his life,” he starts, even and reassuring, “but whenever you are? God, you’re gonna be the fuckin�� best.” He pauses for a beat before adding, “Y’already are.”

With Harris still snoozing in his booster seat, you press a kiss to Eddie’s jawline, just below his earlobe. Your nose smushes into his cheek, tickled by the stubble of a few days of missed shaving. It will take more than a compliment to quell your anxiety, but you refuse to ignore the way it ignites a small fire within you. Self-assurance is a flame, soft and flickering, burning from the inside out. Insecurity is a rigid block of ice, one that has been poking at you for years, but it begins melting against the blooming bundle of warmth.

Wednesday’s post-tutoring pizza party had an extra guest this week. Wayne helps himself to a pepperoni slice, humming some Bob Dylan to himself as he brings his plate to the table. Harris eagerly climbs into his lap, heaving a dramatic sigh as he plops down and steals his grandfather’s pizza slice. His ear infection has cleared up, thanks to the amoxicillin and your cooke trick.

“Hey!” Wayne barks out a laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “What’re you doing?”

Ever unfazed, Harris works on a mouthful of mozzarella cheese. “Eating,” he replies nonchalantly, a dot of sauce staining his nose. He barely swallows his giant bite before starting on another.

You giggle, handing Wayne a new slice before sliding into the chair next to Eddie’s. “I’m really glad you could have dinner with us tonight,” you tell the older man before tucking into your meal. Wayne had decided to cut back to part-time at the plant, citing older age and the desire to spend more time with his grandson, leaving his Wednesday evenings wide open.

Eddie’s the only one who hasn’t started eating yet, too busy soaking in the sight in front of him. He’s sitting around a table with his son, his father figure, and his girlfriend. The three people he loves more than anything in the world. He watches as Wayne presses a kiss to Harris’s messy curls, the little boy giggling into his piece of pizza. He watches as you lean over to wipe the sauce off of Harris’s nose with a napkin, shrieking happily when he sticks out his tongue and licks the side of your hand. “Gotcha, Ms. Sweetheart!” the little boy cackles, but while he’s distracted in his victory, you manage to clean his face.

This is happiness in its purest, most unfettered form. Maybe it won’t always be this easy, but he realizes now that he’s willing to fight like hell to get through the hard times if it means having more of these moments.

“Eds?” your soft, inquiring voice tugs him from his thoughts. “You feeling okay?” Your fingertips find his under the table, concerned by his preoccupation.

“‘M good,” he reassures you, holding your hand and using the other to fold his slice. Once again, the room is filled with silly banter and kind conversation.

Yeah, he’s good.

You expect the three Munsons to leave altogether, so when Wayne tells Eddie that he can take care of Harris for the evening, you’re caught off-guard.

This apparently deviates from Eddie’s plan, too, because he cocks his brow at his uncle. “Y’sure, Old Man?”

“Sure as sh—sugar,” Wayne says, catching himself at the last second. He scratches at the whiskers on his chin, an itchy reminder to pick up some new disposable razors at Melvald’s. “What good’s all this free time if I don’t spend it with my grandson?” He holds out his hand and Harris takes it eagerly.

“Bye, Daddy! Bye, Ms. Sweetheart!” he chirps, already pulling Wayne towards the door.

“Hold on,” Eddie pipes up, forehead creased in feigned agitation. “Let me give you a kiss goodbye.” His jaw drops when Harris shakes his head in defiance; this time, he’s genuinely shocked.

“I want a squish kiss. From you an’ Ms. Sweetheart.” Harris tells him, eyes darting between the two of you.

You turn to Eddie, feeling like you’re missing a crucial piece of this puzzle. “What’s a squish kiss?” you ask quietly, but Harris still manages to overhear.

“‘S when Daddy kisses one cheek, an’ you kiss the other!” he informs you, clapping his hands together giddily. “An’ it squishes my face, like thith.” The last word is obscured with a lips when he pushes his cheeks together to emphasize his point.

You walk over to him and crouching down to his level. “I can definitely do a squish kiss,” you say, wincing slightly when he excitedly squeals in your ear.

Eddie counts down from his other side. “Squish kiss incoming in three…two…one!” Leaning in simultaneously, you both feel the apples of Harris’s cheeks as he smiles, giggling again when you and Eddie pull back with an exaggerated, mwah!

“Now we gotta give Ms. Sweetheart a squish kiss!” the little boy announces. Heat creeps up your neck, and you silently place the ball in Eddie’s court. Before this, he’d always been cognizant to avoid displays of affection in front of his son. And while you’re not opposed to getting a squish kiss from them, you don’t want to put any unnecessary pressure on him.

“You heard the man.” Eddie’s response is near-immediate, wasting no time directing Harris to your left side and shuffling in closer to you. “Count us down, Har.”

“Three…two…one!” Harris smushes his whole face into yours, little nose pressing into your cheek before his lips can. Eddie’s contribution is much less aggressive, but there’s ample love in both kisses.

Satisfied with his handiwork, Harris skips back to his grandpa. Wayne just throws Eddie a wink as he grabs his car keys from the hook and closes the door behind him.

Eddie puts his hands up in surrender when you turn to him, the sounds of his uncle’s and son’s respective footsteps gradually diminishing as they walk down the hall.

“I swear, I didn’t ask Wayne to take care of Harris tonight,” he says with a laugh, looping his pointer finger across his chest to make an X over his heart. Lithe fingertips broach your waist, drawing you closer into him. “Not that I’m complaining, though…”

“Me either,” you murmur, lips finding their way to his collarbone, sucking so harshly that they threaten to leave a bruise. Your own fingers fumble to unbuckle his belt; a difficult feat considering your eyes are watching the vein that runs along his neck, beckoning you to mark it next. You crave the thrill of make-up sex, to allow hunger and desire to fuel your every move.

You grimace at the cool sensation of his rings against the bare skin of your stomach, a painful reminder of one frustrating barrier. “Fuck, my period,” you grumble, taking a small step back. He doesn’t let you go far; instead, he grabs your ass and pulls you towards him. “Eds,” you whine, trying to focus on your words rather than the way he’s beginning to strain against his pants zipper, “did you hear what I said?”

Eddie nods, tongue prodding at your mouth so he can kiss you deeply. “We can put down a towel,” he mumbles into you.

You sigh, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you, quelling the fierce ache settling between your legs, but it seems like Mother Nature is making up for the two weeks she’d lagged behind. Still, you don’t want to leave your boyfriend turned on without any reprieve; he’s practically quivering with anticipation to explore you already.

“C’mere,” you whisper in his ear, though it’s wholly unnecessary given his absurdly close proximity. You hook your forefinger into his waistband and lead him to your bedroom. “Pants off,” you order, and he obeys without hesitation, exposing plaid boxers that fail to constrain his hardening length.

You give him a little shove onto the bed, sensing his heart beat faster underneath your palms. Locking onto his widened eyes, you straddle his waist as he sets himself up against the pillows.

“Can I ask you a question?” You nibble on his earlobe, grinning when a shiver courses through his body.

“A-Anything,” Eddie manages, hissing when your clothed core drags over his tented shorts, the newfound pressure only weakening his resolve.

You hum your approval. “What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

His breath hitches, hands clamping down on your hips so possessively that his fingerprints might be etched into your skin. “You,” he whispers. “Always you.”

“What about me?” You wrap a curly lock of hair around your finger and give it a playful tug. “What do you picture me doing? Or what are you doing to me?”

“Fuck.” He starts to palm himself over the fabric but you swat his hand away.

“You tell me, and I’ll make you feel so good.” Your fingers tug at the elastic band until his cock springs free. He’s mouthwateringly hard, but you don’t allow yourself to taste him. Instead, you wrap your hand around the base, lean over, and spit directly onto the tip. “‘M ready when you are, baby.”

He needs a moment to collect himself, to allow his mind to create coherent thoughts. It takes too long, apparently, because he hears you softly snicker.

“Cat got your tongue?”

And, fuck, all of the blood in his body rushes south at that. He’s reminded of the dream he’d had all those months ago; the one that catapulted his feelings from schoolboy crush to full-blown lovesickness. Dream You had said the same thing.

“At work,” he croaks, twisting his fists into your bedsheets, desperate for your hand to glide up and down his shaft, “you surprise me a-and suck me off behind the counter, and a c-customer walks in.”

“And then I stop, right?” you tease, thumb swiping at the pre-cum pooling at his slit. “I let you attend to the customer because I’m a good girl?”

“N-No.” Eddie furiously shakes his head. “You k-keep going; such a bad f-fuckin’ girl. Keep your pretty little lips wrapped a-around me.”

You finally relent, giving him what he wants, and he bucks into your hand with a groan. His fantasies flow freely now with each stroke. “Once he leaves, I grab you, spin you around, and–f-fuck–flip your little skirt up.”

“Am I wearing anything under this little skirt?” you coo, tightening your grip on his cock.

He shakes his head, curls already beginning to stick to his temples with light perspiration. “Not a thing. J-Just on display f’me.” He sucks in a harsh breath as he moves you so you’re sitting next to him, knees grazing one another. He quickly shifts to unbutton your jeans, meticulously working the button like he’s opening the gift of his dreams. “And only me.”

“Eddie, I–”

“Gotta touch you,” he mumbles. The way your panties cling to your cunt makes it easy for him to find your clit through the fabric. “Gonna lose my fuckin’ mind if I don’t touch you.”

And, God, you might lose your mind if he does. His nimble fingers rub your sweet spot, a delicious friction created by your underwear. Desire oozes from his pores, only heightening when you whimper at his touch.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl,” Eddie’s voice is low in his chest, “‘m gonna make you feel good, too.” He pushes your panties to the side; the cool air hitting your pussy makes you shiver.

“Wish you were inside me right now,” you moan, almost drooling just thinking about being stretched open as he pushes into you. “You always fill me up perfectly.”

His cock twitches at your words, and you take the initiative to quicken your pace. “Is that what you think about?” he asks, groaning in pleasure when you lean in to spit on his dick again, saliva messily snaking down his shaft and nestling in the thatch of curls on his pelvis. “Y’think about me filling you up?”

“Mhm.”

“M-Me too, Princess. Want to fuck you full of my cum.” Eddie leans back onto the headboard. “You’d look s’good filled with my cum.”

Your widened eyes and the way your stroking motions end abruptly inform him that that was not the response you’d been expecting.

“Shit, I—”

You recover from the shock remarkably fast. “Yeah? You’d like that?” You resume your pace, fist sliding up and down his length, paying special attention to the overstimulated head. Your breath tickles his ear as you whisper, “tell me about it.”

He’s suddenly shy, softening slightly in your hand. “You sure?” His gaze shifts to your lower stomach; only a few short days ago, there was the possibility of you carrying his child there. “‘S not weird?”

You shake your head, trailing kisses down the side of his throat. “Tell me about it,” you repeat with a bit more charge, inciting him to let go. “I want to know all of your fantasies, Eddie.”

His name is so pretty coming from your lips, accompanied by a gentle smile. “Never thought about it until you,” he admits, the weight of anxiety lifted at your insistence, and you feel his length begin stiffening once more. “Keeping you bent over, coming inside your perfect little pussy, and fucking it all back into you so it…” he trails off, still too sheepish to compete the sentence.

But you have no problem with finishing it. “So it sticks?” you ask innocently, as though you have no idea what the mere utterance of that phrase will do to him. He nods, unable to speak. “Do you think about everyone knowing what you do to me? Hmm?”

There’s so much that he wants to say, but he swears there’s no blood flowing anywhere but his cock. “You’d look fuckin’ gorgeous havin’ my baby,” he manages, mind filled with images of you in maternity dresses, bump pressed against his stomach as you kiss him deeply.

There’s further implications; namely, that he wants you and only you to bear his children, which you quickly make a mental note to unpack at a less sensual time. For now, you focus on taking his words at face value. “Bet you’d show me off everywhere we went. Wouldn’t keep your hands off of me.”

“Can barely keep them off of you now,” he says, finger circling your aching clit to prove his point, “but seeing you pregnant with our kid…” He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years, enveloping your busy hand with his free one, wrapping it around his erection and moving it faster. “Jus’ like that, fuck, sweet girl. Tell me what gets you goin’ now, yeah?” When you bite your lip apprehensively, he sighs. “Don’t be shy; I know you’ve been holding back on me.”

“Okay, okay,” you acquiesce with a knowing smile, “I think about you taking control. Just…using me however you want.”

Your toes curl as he rubs faster, clearly just as turned on as you are. “Y’need me to boss you around? Treat you like my little toy?”

“Mmm,” you agree, settling into the mattress. “Want you to choke me, too.”

His eyebrows raise at this, and his lips soon curl into a mischievous smirk. “Come ride my thigh an’ tell me more.” He pats his leg, his gaze never leaving your body as you reposition yourself to straddle it. You keep your hand on his member, spitting on it once again while moving your hips back and forth. “Take what you need, baby.”

“Need you,” you moan, the cotton fabric of your panties dragging along him. “Need you to decide if I come…” It’s a delectable thought: Eddie pounding you into the mattress, reminding you that good girls take what they’re given, and nothing more. Quieting all of the noise in your head. Day after day, you’re supposed to make choices for others; some major, some minor. All you want is for someone to tell you what to do.

Eddie’s rings are cold on your neck, giving it a hesitant squeeze. “That good?” His eyes are kind but fiery, willing you to beg for it.

“More; more, please.” And give you more he does, only stopping when you cough. “‘S good now.” Words barely audible between his tight grip and your own descent into submission.

But Eddie hears you loud and clear, voice firm when he orders: “Come with me. Don’t wanna come without you.” He’s pulsing in your grasp. “An’ if you don’t come now, don’t even think about trying to get yourself off later.”

Relief floods you as the coil snaps, his dominance scratching an itch too often left untouched. You come with a cry of his name, feeling his own hot release coating your hand. You’re both giggling and gasping for breaths as you float down from your respective highs, lips crashing together in sloppy, needing kisses.

“I love you so much,” Eddie mumbles into you, blindly reaching for the Kleenex box atop your nightstand. “I’ve never trusted anyone like this before.” He wipes your hand clean before brushing his thumb across your lower lip.

“Me either.” You kiss him again, tongues mingling before you confess, “for the record, the thought of having a baby is a little less scary when it’s yours. Someday,” you add for good measure.

Eddie smiles, cocking his head and looking up at you like you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. “I can live with ‘someday.’”

The school week draws to a close on Friday. Coming back from a break is never easy; the kids act like they’ve never been to school before. Just nine days out of the classroom and you’re fairly certain they’ve lost the ability to stay seated for more than ten seconds at a time.

Will is cleaning the tables with Clorox wipes, washing away crayon residue and softly whistling to himself. You’re filing away some paperwork, scrawling For Monday on a Post-It note and sticking it on top of a stack of handwriting practice worksheets.

There’s a light tap on your classroom door followed by an enthused voice.

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

You look up to see Harris and Eddie standing in the doorway. Harris excitedly waves you over, holding a piece of construction paper tight to his chest.

Eddie clears his throat, hands tucked into his back pocket. “Harris has something for you,” he says softly. His eyes light up when he notices the heart necklace that drapes over your collarbone. “Go ‘head, Har Bear,” he encourages his son with a tiny nudge.

“Um, well,” Harris starts, uncharacteristically nervous, “I know you’re still just my almost-mommy, but Ms. Marion had us make cards for Mother’s Day. An’ we learned that mommies love their babies, an’ take care of them when they’re sick, an’ cheer them up when they’re sad, an’ read to them, an’ play with them–”

“Har,” Eddie prods gently, not wanting him to lose himself in a tangent.

“Oh, yeah. An’ I don’t have a mommy-mommy yet, but you do all those things for me, so I wanted to give you this.” He hands you the paper. Two handprints, one pink and one purple, serve as flowers in a pot.

One of the teachers–Marion or Paula–has neatly written at the top, Thanks for helping me grow! and Mother’s Day 1997 on the bottom. In the pot, Harris has printed his name.

“I love it,” you manage, blinking away the tears that spring to your eyes. “It’s the best card I’ve ever gotten.”

Harris wraps his arms around you in a hug, and you embrace him with everything you have. When you look up at Eddie, he grins and mouths, thank you.

You just smile back, feeling as though you should be thanking him. Thank him for allowing you into his little family, for letting you make mistakes, for being there to help you fix them. Thank him for that fire inside you, burning a bit brighter each day, reminding you that this is where you belong.

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bettysupremacy · 2 months

Note

hi love ! could you write a fluff!rafe where the reader is a workaholic and ends up getting a cold and rafe takes care of her? 💌🍄

my boyfriend!!!!!!!

“I need to go in today.”

You gaze at Rafe, who returns your stare. It feels futile, yet you persist. You try to sit up, pulling the covers off your legs, but retreat under them when the overhead fan reaches. A dull ache permeates your body. The cold seeps into you, but the blanket is suffocating. Your body feels warm, but the air is biting.

You concede. “Nevermind.”

“Yeah.” Rafe moves to help you gently, he’s fixing the blanket.

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously,” Rafe warns suddenly. “I’m gonna make you cut your shifts down.”

“But-“

“No, this is a ‘I want to pass the time’ job, and you’re treating it like you’re employee of the month.” He’s annoyed, with you surely. “Shit, are you employee of the month?”

You frown, ignoring his question. He’s right. Though, he usually is. He already provides for you through the big money of the company his father passed down, you just don’t wanna be bored. You don’t want to contribute nothing, and you’re treating it like there’s rent to pay and mouths to feed. Well, there is, but not in the demand you

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he huffs. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“I know.”

He helps you sit, moving the pillows behind you. Your chest feels fuzzy and so do your eyes. Dully, your nausea makes you cough.

“I’m nauseous.” You tell him.

“Jeez.” He murmurs, his eyes round and concerned. “You want zofran?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

Tears pool in your eyes as he sits up, collecting at your eyelashes as you try to blink them away. You bring your hand to swipe at them, sniffling. Rafe’s brain lags.

“What?” He asks, kneeling down again, hands in desperate search of your face. “Baby, what?”

“I’m embarrassed.” You cry.

“Why?” His rough hands swipe at your tears gently. “Everyone gets sick.”

You turn away from him,

“If this is about me being upset earlier, I swear it wasn’t at you.” He stresses. “I-I had a bad day, and seeing you’ve succumbed to illness makes me sad.”

You giggle wetly. “Succumbed to illness.”

He beams proudly. “I knew that would get a laugh.”

You smile up at him, fever working through your veins slowly. You shake again miserably, working yourself up into a fit of fat tears. They roll down the hills of your cheek heavily, pooling under your chin. You blink out three at once and Rafe nearly has a conniption. Why are you crying?

“It’s not.”

He works his hand over your hair, gently, but not cautiously. “Then what?” He pleads. “Help me understand.”

“I just love you.”

“You’re crying because you love me?”

“I don’t feel good.” You correct.

“You don’t feel good?”

“And I love you,” You admit. “but you’re here,” You moan. “seeing me like this, and you’re so pretty.”

He laughs, quickly recovering to a sympathetic face when you frown at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothes, lips near your ear. “Sometimes I look at you and I want to cry.”

“But you never do.” You wallow.

“Have you ever seen me cry?”

“Once.”

“Forget that.” He grimaces. “The point is, you’re stressed and sick.”

“I don’t see the point.” You murmur.

“You’re vulnerable right now, to your.. feelings. If I were sick, and stressed, and I saw you, I think I might cry too.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Did the people cry when the angels came down in the Bible?”

“Did the angels.. come down?” You ask. “I’ve never read it.”

“I’m not sure.”

You laugh. “Maybe we should ask Scar.”

“Scar?”

“She’s smart.”

“I think she’s Jewish.”

“So?”

“Different book, my love.”

“Duh, I’m not that sick.” You laugh. It drips with sticky sticky cough syrup. “But still, she’s smart, maybe she’ll know.”

Rafe sighs lovingly. “Maybe. We got off track.”

“We always do.”

Rafe snorts. “You’re feeling better.”

“Get on track.”

“I don’t remember the point I was making with angels.”

You laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re useless.”

“Abominable girl.” He chastises, sitting up anyways.

“Go get me medicine.” You’re smiling. “Useless, useless doctor.”

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cupidsdolll · 3 months

Text

For Whatever It’s Worth I Love You (Ain’t That the Worst Thing You Ever Heard?)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; best friend!Harry x fem!reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; best friends forever or whatever the saying is. how bittersweet it is to love someone that you can’t have how you want.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭; 8.8k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; angst, drinking, one mention of a sexual encounter, foul language, use of Y/N. date with a college guy who only wants sex and is obvious about it.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: i did link a playlist in another post, but here it is. this fic is something personal to me so not everyone will relate but if you’ve ever been in love with your best friend, this is for you. you don’t have to listen to the playlist while reading but a few deserve a honorable mention that i feel accurately describe the feelings throughout.

yours - conan gray, it’s nice to have a friend - taylor swift, falling for u - peachy! ft mxmtoon, heather - conan gray, people watching - conan gray.

— — —

Y/N and Harry were friends. They were the absolute best of friends if anyone asked. They grew up near one another but she tended to shy away from him in their early days. During their elementary years, she observed him from a distance. Him and his seemingly always put together outfits, the way he would snicker in class whenever the teacher mentioned anything remotely funny (it never was to the little girl.) She watched as he sometimes decided he wanted to take notes and would write everything down as fast as he could.

She watched as he grew a small circle of friends and would go around the school playing pranks, placing fake bugs inside lockers or on the teachers desk. She couldn’t help but to be curious of the boy as time went, something about him intrigued her. Years go by and eventually Y/N grew the courage to approach the young boy. She was still hesitant, nervous really, she didn't know what to say to him in any sense. But her legs carried her to him, her mind runs a mile a minute the closer she gets to him. She was bound to make a fool of herself, she just couldn’t stop.

Her feet stopped, she stood right in front of him and he’s yet to notice her, too deep into whatever conversation he’s having with his friend to notice the scared girl. She can’t help her gaze from roaming over his face, the soft cheeks and pretty green eyes, his pink lips and long eyelashes. His hair has gotten quite curly over the years, it’s honestly her favorite feature of his. She wishes she could look at him this close every day, just admire him without any fear or doubt and oh- he’s staring at her. When did he stop talking to his friend? Her eyes drop to his lips and they’re moving.. he’s talking to her, oh god he’s talking to her. This is it, she’s gonna make an utter and absolute fool of herself and he’s never going to talk to her again.

“Uh hello? Did y’need something?” He asks and she just stares blankly. She can’t force her brain to say something, anything please.

“Uh- well.. jeez. You see.. I just,” is all that comes out of her mouth when she finally decides to open it. She can feel heat rising to her cheeks, the embarrassment warming her and making her want to hide in her room until the end of time.

Harry’s just staring at her, his lips pulled up into an amused smirk of some sort and she can't help the shame that fills her.

“Go on then, I don't have all day.“ He says with amusement laced in his tone and she nearly melts. She couldn’t think he could get any better but his accent is heavenly. It’s smooth and soft and she wishes she could listen to it all day- no she doesn’t. That’s irrational and oh, he’s still looking at her. She needs to say something, she begs her mind to come up with anything at this point.

“You’re pretty.” His face immediately morphs into a look of disbelief as he shakes his head gently.

“Well thanks I guess.” He laughs gently before looking back at her.

“I don’t think pretty is a term meant for me, maybe for you though.” He smiles gently at her and she swears her heart skips three beats. Her skin flushes with heat at the compliment he gives her, and she can’t help but to smile shyly at the curly haired boy.

“Oh, um thank you.” She can’t help but to giggle and he watches her with a curious gaze.

“What’s your name then?” He asks her and she tells him, he compliments her name and says his own.

“It’s nice to meet you, Harry.” They smile at each other and he invites her to sit with him and his friends.

Just like that, a new friendship begins to bloom between the children. They stay by each other’s side through the years, becoming the best of friends in the seventh grade over their shared disgust for dissecting frogs. Their faces screw up and they just keep complaining about how gross it feels and how they hate the sliminess of the skin. It’s hard to imagine that anything could break them apart, they’re too similar. They’re too close, their friendship is far too strong.

— — —

When high school came around, you never got one without the other. The pair were always attached at the hip. Some students thought the two were dating, and Harry always shot them down by saying she’s just a really close friend, they’re just friends, they couldn’t date. Y/N kept her mouth shut, always had to swallow the big lump that formed in her throat whenever the topic came up. She knew she wouldn’t be able to deny it, or she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from admitting her feelings.

She’s not sure when she started catching feelings for Harry exactly. There’s many moments where it could be possible. It could’ve been all those nights they share a bed, they’re close enough and their parents figured nothing bad will happen. If they were to sneak around, they would’ve done it already. Harry will be over at Y/N’s house, either studying or just hanging out with her and they’ll stay up too late and Anne wouldn’t want to come and pick him up so Harry will pick an outfit or steal some of her bigger clothes to wear (she likes to wear oversized clothing when she’s going to sleep, they’re the only clothes that’ll fit him.) The first night was awkward to say the least, she didn’t own a sleeping bag and wanted him to stay with her. They thought of piling some blankets on the floor, but he said it’d be too uncomfortable and would hurt his back. He offered to sleep on the couch but she fussed and said it wouldn’t be a proper sleepover if they weren’t in the same room.

The last offer was said with hesitation, his cheeks and the tips of his ears turned red and he stared at the floor with a bashful smile.

“We could, maybe if you’re comfortable with it of course, maybe share a bed? We don’t have to. I’m sure your mom could figure something out-” She’s embarrassed at how fast she answers the boy, her skin warmed and shy eyes.

“Yeah! That works.” And just like that, the first initial problem is solved. They lay relatively stiffly in their own sides of the bed, a line of pillows lay in between them acting as a protective barrier, the moonlight filtering through her bedroom window and resting on his face. Casting a soft white hue onto his face, making him look even softer and she can’t help but to keep sneaking glances at her best friend. She doesn’t want to just stare and ogle, she doesn’t want to make this even more awkward for the two of them, so she settles for quick glances. They talk about anything and everything, whatever they learned in class or Harry’s newest favorite song, her current book she’s reading or some gossip one of them overheard.

Time passes, and Y/N can hear his breathing even out. She watches as his chest rises and falls slower signaling the young boy is sleeping. She then turns on her side, slowly and quietly as she pays attention to how much sound she’s making, her gaze landing on the sleeping boy. This should be, this is weird. She shouldn’t be watching him, but she can’t help it. Her eyes roam over his face once more, this time unashamed and more slowly, she wants to memorize every single detail.

She takes in the way his lashes fan his cheeks, she’s always been jealous of how long his eyelashes are. There’s no point in him having them if he doesn’t put them to good use. His eyelids flutter ever so often as he sleeps, his nose and his lips. They’re soft and pink, pillowy as if they’re made from the softest fabric. They’re inviting, but she shouldn’t be thinking like that. They’re best friends, best friends don’t kiss. They don’t think about cuddling up to them, they don’t do what she does.

Besides it’s normal for a young girl to develop a small crush on her best friend, it happens to everyone. At least that’s what her mom had told her weeks after the bed sharing experience.

— — —

She manages to bottle up those measly feelings for him, she doesn’t want to ruin anything and lose him. Years pass and now the two are in college. Freshman, the jokes of the school, the perfect targets for all of the upperclassmen. Y/N and Harry are still as close as ever, in fact some may say they’ve gotten closer. Harry’s always there to protect her from anyone who tries to pick on her, to lend a hand when she needs a study partner. Y/N’s there to support his dreams, to embrace him after a long day, to listen to him ramble about anything and everything.

The two would usually spend their nights sitting side by side as they help the other study, listening to the newest music on their phones, or just chatting happily with each other. The silence that settled over them sometimes never felt uncomfortable in any way, anything that had to do with Harry was warm. It was happy, filled with care and cozy, constantly feeling like she was enveloped in a warm hug. It was always a comforting moment whenever she’s around him, never awkward in any way or a silence so deafening that makes her feel the need to ramble about anything just to fill the silence.

True enough, college was stressful for the girl. She was known to overwork herself and to stack more and more things onto her imaginary plate. A stack so high that she can’t see over or around, and the weight of it only gets heavier as time passes by. It’s not something she can help though, she’s always been one to want to overachieve her own dreams and goals — even if said goals were highly unattainable and unrealistic — but she always had Harry to help her. She’d tack on classes that she may or may not need to take but she thinks it will be easier to take all the classes just in case.

She makes frequent stops to her teacher’s office to ask for help or to check her work (she’s sure the teachers are sick of her at this point), she’s constantly working on homework and studying for her exams and any tests she may have. It’s safe to say Y/N is as good a student as one can get, and she takes great pride in that! As much time as she spends in her dorm room or in the library with her face glued into text books, she makes sure to set time aside to spend time with her best friend.

She always makes time for him, how could she not when he’s the best part of her day? They’ll meet up in the library for an impromptu study session that usually ends up with their studies forgotten as they talk about whatever comes to mind, him sitting beside her on her bed because she doesn’t like visiting the boy’s dormitories simply because they’re loud and the majority of the time it smells unpleasant, or they’ll stroll around the campus because she loves being in nature. They’ll talk about how their classes are doing (hers are good but overwhelming and loud, his are good as well and he quite enjoys them,) or they’ll talk about potential crushes they have.

It usually always just results in Harry talking about whatever girl he thought was pretty as Y/N nodded along. She never had anything to contribute, she never had any crushes other than him and didn’t feel the need to add anything to the conversation. She was always too jealous, too upset to say anything anyways. She wished it was her. She hoped that she could hold his hand and kiss him whenever she wanted, wanted to play with his hair and cuddle up to him whenever she wanted, wanted to show him off and announce to the world that he was hers.

It was silly, she knew that, which was why she never said anything about her feelings. She couldn’t have him the way she wanted him, they were always just gonna be best friends. She was okay with that, to a point, she was glad to have him in her life just the same. She wouldn’t tell him in fear of losing him. She couldn’t bear the thought of not being in his life, to not traveling to his place and hanging out with his family, to not have that one person who meant everything and anything to her.

So she pined, she yearned from a distance while still encouraging him to go on dates. Which is exactly what she’s doing now, sat on his bed with a sad smile as he told her about the current girl he’s interested in.

“No, you don’t understand. She’s so smart, always one of the first to raise her hand, she could honestly give you a run for your money. She always looks so pretty, it’s like she never has bad days. She even volunteers on the weekends!” He goes on and on, not realizing the sadness etched on his friend's face, he never noticed it as he rambled about whatever girl he was interested in.

Y/N nodded along, halfway listening as she felt the small ping of hurt begin to bloom in her chest. She wishes she could be all the way happy for Harry. She hates that she gets jealous of all the girls, she just can’t help it. She wishes she had a chance.

“Why don’t you ask her out then, Harry?” Her voice is quiet, scared of it coming out as shaky as she feels.

“I don’t even know if she likes me! I’d hate to ask her out just to get rejected.” He says as he paces, a habit he does when he’s nervous.

“You won’t know if you try, or you could just try talking to her normally and see how it goes from there.” She says and he nods, a big smile on his face (one she wishes he would give to her) as he thinks it over.

She hates these moments if she’s being honest, it always leads to the same outcome. He’ll listen to her advice, he and whatever girl he’s interested in will start talking, they’ll realize they’re compatible and start hanging out more, he’ll bring her around to meet Y/N and then something happens and they break up. She wishes he would stop, at least for a while, and go back to give all of his attention to her.

— — —

They’re now juniors in college and the two are still relatively close friends. Harry will walk her to class if his own is close enough, they eat lunch together when their schedules line up, Harry still takes her to and from school every day (unless something came up with his soccer schedule.) Harry did get into the party scene though, and Y/N thinks this is where it all got complicated. He would go to parties thrown on the campus and when he first started going, Harry would invite Y/N to come with him and the girl always said no.

Partying wasn’t her thing, she didn't find the whole appeal of it all. Going to someone’s dorm room or house, either way the space is entirely too crowded for her, the smell of cigarettes and weed fill the air and songs she’ll never enjoy blasts through whatever speakers they have. The drinks are usually not that bad after she’s had a couple before heading in, but she doesn’t necessarily like to drink anyways.

This was where her and Harry had begun to drift in a way, Harry enjoyed partying. He enjoyed it a lot, the thrill, and once he had gotten a couple of tattoos and grew his hair out he became quite the ladies man.

He would go on about whatever party was going on, to her it seemed there was a party every week. She didn’t understand why these people aren’t studying and making the most of their time, but she realizes that not everyone’s like her. It was very rare for her to accompany Harry to a party, but when she did, she made him promise to stay by her side as much as he could. He agreed, because why wouldn’t he, and tried to get to enjoy herself as much as she could.

Tonight’s a party, she couldn’t believe someone is throwing a party on a Thursday night, she would be cozied up in her bed with her textbooks laid across as she wrote down notes. Harry had convinced her to come with him, and told her it was going to be a small party and said they were having a pick a music DJ so she could even request a couple of her favorite songs! She reluctantly agreed only after Harry gave her the biggest eyes and pout she ever saw. She’s always had a soft spot for him, mainly because he’s never given her a reason not to trust his word and judgment.

So she sighed as she ushered him out, playfully swatting his butt with whatever she was able to grab and shooed him.

“Go on then, get ready! This better be good otherwise I’m shaving your head while you sleep.” She said with a soft smile on her lips, they both knew she would never do so simply because she enjoyed running her hands through his hair. He shook his head and laughed at her fondly as he allowed her to push him to the door. He then left her dorm with a smile on his lips to get ready for said party, one of his main priorities is to make his best friend begin to like parties so they could go together.

A while later, they’re standing against one another, a plastic solo cup in each of their hands in a somewhat crowded house. Harry was right, it was smaller than the normal party, there’s more room to walk around without the fear of bumping into someone and causing a scene. The music vibrates through the floors and fills the space, the air is stuffy and filled with the smell of weed. There’s so much happening all at once, and Y/N’s glad she doesn’t get overstimulated easily otherwise she’d have to leave.

Y/N sips on her drink, taking just the smallest of drinks simply because whatever Harry gave her smells and tastes bad, burning her throat and leaving a bad aftertaste on her tongue with every drink. Her eyes roam over the kitchen but they always manage to land on Harry. He’s so pretty, and just happy. He looks like he belongs here, long sleeve black shirt partially open, a black tie barely even tied around his neck, a pair of black jeans and a pair of white tennis shoes. He’s let his hair down instead of his usual man bun, and Y/N swears every girl has their eyes trained on him. She doesn’t blame them honestly, she just wishes she wasn’t there to watch as her best friend checks the girls out as well.

It fuels a bubbling in her stomach, a queasy feeling that won’t go away. It’s a feeling she’s grown used to, being friends with Harry always led to her feeling envious of the girls he talked to. She wishes she could just accept the fact that they’ll never be together how she wants them to be, accept the fact that they’ll always just be best friends. She knows that she could treat him better than they can, she knows all the small things they’ll never know. She knows how to make him happy, how to comfort him, knows all of his secrets and ticks and cues.

She hates the painful feeling that resides in her chest, near her heart every time this happens. The horrible feeling of rejection that makes her hate the friendship they have, hates the fact that they’re so close and it’ll never go any further than that. She sighs and takes a bigger sip of her drink, her face screwing up in disgust at the bitter taste left on her tongue. She hopes he’s too busy checking out every girl at the party to notice her discomfort, but of course he has some kind of senses that ties to her as he wraps an arm softly around her shoulders.

He gives her a soft squeeze as he leans down to whisper in her ear, only to make sure she can hear him over the bass of the song.

“Y’okay?” She can’t help the shiver that runs through her at the feeling of his breath fanning across her neck. She only nods her head meekly, she doesn’t trust her voice enough to speak for her. He chuckles and squeezes her shoulder once more before pulling away and Y/N can only sigh quietly at the lack of contact and warmth. It’s moments like these where she wishes she’s back at home, cuddles next to Harry as they do whatever. The music’s getting too loud, she’s getting warmer and her drink doesn’t taste good, that can only mean she’s getting overwhelmed.

They stay alongside each other at the party, her wrapped in his arms as time goes on. She wishes he would say they can leave, but she’s unsure how long they’ve been here and she won’t be the reason Harry leaves a party early. Harry mutters in her ear something about getting another drink and she’s sure he asked if she wanted something different. She nods her head softly and turns her head, her eyes staring into his pretty emerald eyes and she smiles at him before asking if there’s something there that doesn’t taste so bitter and he can only laugh at her. She swears his eyes look so pretty in this light, pupils slightly dilated and the green of his eyes shine in the lighting above the two of them. They stare at each other for what seems like ages, not that Y/N’s complaining any, before Harry pulls back and tells her that he’ll be right back with the drinks and she nods in response. She watches him as he makes his way through the crowd, more than likely saying excuse me and apologizing if he even brushes past someone on his journey because he’s just that polite.

— — —

Y/N hates parties. She’s mentioned this to Harry several times and he’s so persistent on changing her mind, only to be left disappointed by her response the next day or through a text. They always smell bad, it’s hot, there’s no personal space and she just absolutely despises watching Harry get hit on by every girl in the vicinity. She gets it, he’s good looking, funny and an absolute gentleman which is not something she can say applies to any other boy on campus. Harry’s a rare gem and she wishes she could keep him for herself, but alas they’re just friends. That’s all they’ll ever be.

She hates when they go to parties and he leaves her, usually letting her know but sometimes he’s dragged away and never comes back until he’s drunk. Another reason she hates parties is how he acts when he’s drunk. She turns into a babysitter, making sure he’s careful not to throw up on himself, bump into some guy who had too much to drink and wants a fight, and has to drive them home when she doesn’t even like driving. Not to mention, she hates how affectionate he becomes. He’s always cuddling up to her, holding her hand and calling her all sorts of sweet pet names.

She thinks that’s the worst part, because not only does it fill her heart and make it swell, but it also causes her to be the target of all of the nasty glares from the girls at the party. That’s exactly what’s happening right now, he’s managed to bring her to yet another party even though she all but begged and pleaded not to come along. It was bigger, louder, and plain annoying. She just wanted to stay in bed, cozied up underneath her softest blanket with a book and her favorite songs. Harry insisted yet again that she’ll have fun, and it shouldn’t be too big. Insisted that they wouldn’t be there very long, and that was two hours ago. Y/N’s head hurts, her back and feet hurt as well and she doesn’t know any of the songs playing through the speaker. She’s just having a miserable time meanwhile Harry’s having the time of his life, she’s lost count of how many drinks he’s already had including the one currently in his hand. She knows it’s enough to get him to loosen up, to not care about the way he’s pressed against her, one tattooed arm wrapped around her waist and his breath fanning the side of her neck as he sings along to whatever song is blasting through.

They rock gently together as if it’s not an upbeat pop song, lost in his own drunken world and she just wants to go home.

“Honey, you’re just the sweetest thing. Y’know that?” His voice all but oozed into her bloodstream, warming her skin and making her fight back a smile.

“And you’re drunk, I think we should go home Harry.”’She says, hoping he listens and tells her to take them home. Instead he nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck and squeezes her.

“Don’t wanna leave yet, m’having fun with you.” She can’t help the smile that tugs on her lips at his words.

“I know but we could have so much more fun at home in our pj’s. Doesn’t that sound nice, Harry?” He only hums and squeezes her tighter.

“M’having fun with you baby. S’nice seeing you all pretty. Look so pretty every day.” She can’t help the heat that rushes to her cheeks at his words, the main reason she doesn’t like attending parties with him.

He’s so cuddly and loving, the line they’ve made blurs whenever he’s drunk and makes it hard to differentiate between just friendship or something more. She knows he doesn’t mean any of it though, at least not in the way she hopes he means it. She can feel the nasty glares from all of the other girls, knowing they’re wishing to be her in shoes. Who wouldn’t want to be wrapped in Harry’s arms with him whispering in your ear and a goofy looking smile on his lips?

“Thank you, Harry. We can still have fun at home, I won’t change so I can still be all pretty for you and it’ll just be the two of us. I’m sorry, I wanna go home, Har. It’s getting to be too much.” She says just loud enough for him to hear, her eyes scanning the crowd. He sighs before kissing her neck ever so gently, a kiss so feathery soft that if she weren’t so sober she wouldn’t even feel it.

“Fine, let’s go home then baby. Don’t want my girl to be overwhelmed.” He says before unwrapping her from his embrace only to intertwine their hands together as he leads her to the exit. She’s grateful that he’s taking charge, her brain repeating the same three words over and over again.

My girl, my girl, MY girl, my GIRL, MY GIRL.

Those two words do something to her brain, sending her spiraling into the delusion she only entertains late at night when she’s alone in her bed. The fantasy that they’ve been together for a couple months, every drunken interaction always ends with a kiss and then cuddling in the bed. She follows him outside and to their, his car and he opens the door to the drivers side for her and walks around to the passenger side. She stands by the door, making sure he can get in the car without hurting himself and he huffs, reminding her of when they were kids.

“I can get in the car by myself, love. No need to fret over me.” His accent is deeper because of the alcohol and Y/N can only sigh and roll her eyes affectionately.

“I know H, just don’t want you to hurt yourself is all.” She says softly as she pulls the seatbelt around him.

“Always so sweet for me, baby. Thank you.” He smiles at her, a dopey expression on his face and she can only smile at him in return. She closes the door gently and walks to the other side, getting into the car and starting it, immediately turning on the radio in hopes it’ll distract him from seeing the tears roll down her face.

— — —

If there’s one thing Y/N hates is going on dates. Especially if they’re dates she doesn’t necessarily want to be on, just like the one she’s on now. Harry had insisted that he takes up the majority of the time (he does) and that she needs to go out more, (she doesn’t want to) so she reluctantly agreed to go on this stupid date. She arrived at the restaurant ten minutes early just in case and to prepare herself, waited for ten extra minutes for him to decide to show up smelling strongly of some cheap cologne and cigarettes. Once they were seated, things stayed somewhat relaxed as they made small talk and got to know each other; he had made some remarks she didn’t necessarily agree with but she stayed quiet.

When it came time to order, there was a certain look on his eyes when she ordered. One that felt almost as if he was… judging her? He stayed quiet otherwise though, didn’t let his disgust be known verbally and she’s thankful for that. She’s sure they’ve been at the restaurant for about thirty minutes, give or take, but this is the longest she’s been out with a guy who isn’t Harry. That has to mean something, right? Sure the conversation could be better, maybe he could talk more and maybe seem a little more interested in what she has to say, but she can’t complain too much.

She can’t help but to wonder what Harry is doing right now, probably either sleep or playing on his game system. He might be on a date as well which could explain why he was soo insistent on getting her to go on this date, but she refuses to think that’s why. She’s bored and she misses him. She always misses him though, she’s gotten so used to basically being attached at the hip with him that it feels like years whenever they’re apart (even if it’s only a couple of hours, she’s just dramatic as Harry would say.)

“So are you and Harry together, or…” The guy asks and Y/N shakes her head quickly.

“Oh.. uh no! We’re not together.” He squints his eyes at her like he doesn’t believe her, and honestly she doesn’t blame him.

“So are you guys just screwing around?” Y/N laughs, a sound in between a snort and a scoff bubbles from her lips and her date only to stare at her in confusion.

She’s heard plenty of rumors regarding her and Harry’s friendship, that they’re dating or maybe siblings, one even said she’s secretly someone famous and he’s just her bodyguard. She laughed at that one and when she told Harry he simply smiled at her and said it’s only true; she’s his princess and he vowed to protect her from any and all harm and she smacked his shoulder with a dopey smile on her lips. But to hear that people think that they’re just sleeping around with each other is new, well at least to hear it. She won’t deny the fact that sometimes late at night she’ll daydream scenarios where the two are happily together doing all the couple-y stuff but sometimes those daydreams tend to wander and turn into something filthy.

Dreams of him whispering in her ear, praising her as he rocks against her. Dreams of him maybe catching her reading her smut books and recreating them together, trying new things and exploring each other’s bodies.. She shakes her head, thankful that she can play it off as her denying the rumor.

“No, no! We’re just friends, best friends actually.” She says and laughs gently, hoping her voice doesn’t crack. He stares at her a little while longer before his gaze begins lower and he clears his throat, she knows where this is going. This happens all the time on her dates.

“Well I mean, I wouldn’t blame him if he did.” He smirks afterwards and Y/N has to hold herself back from screwing her face up in disgust.

This is usually the part where she’ll excuse herself or the date begins to head downwards, leaving her with disappointment and the small hole in her chest she’s holding out for the small chance of Harry returning her feelings begins to ache. She clears her throat in response and begins to fidget in her seat.

“Uh, yeah sure. Anyways, are you enjoying your food?” She asks in hope that it’ll detour the conversation back into safer topics.

“I mean.. it’s alright. You look gorgeous, that dress really fits you. Are you enjoying your food?” He asks as he brings his fork to his mouth and the girl has to refrain from frowning at her date.

It’s safe to say that she misses her best friend, misses being cuddled up next to him and the two of them talking about anything and everything. She misses how comfortable they are, she misses his voice, his hugs.

“Yeah, I’m enjoying it so far.” She says, her voice sounding disappointed that once more her date is turning into all of her previous ones.

“I was wondering if maybe I could stay over a little after this is done. I’d love to get to know you more.” She sighs softly before answering him.

“No, I’m sorry. If you excuse me, I'm just gonna go ahead and go. It was nice meeting you, and this should be enough to cover my half.” She says as she puts a couple bills on the table in front of him, she’s sure that it’s more than enough to pay for her meal and she should stick around to get her change; she just wants to leave though, to get away from him and back to her comfort. She immediately heads to the door, her eyes beginning to well up with tears as she walks to her car. The disappointment stinging her heart yet again at the ending of another unsuccessful date.

— — —

Y/N’s managed to find herself at another party but this time Harry’s not glued to her side, he’s gotten dragged off by one of his friends. She’s not sure where he went or how long he’s been gone but she is having a much better time than she usually is. She thinks drinking a little bit before she goes helps, being in the comforting embrace of just her and Harry as they take a couple of shots helps her loosen up.

So she stands in the kitchen, her eyes roaming over the crowd as she attempts to find Harry and her body swaying the music. She nurses a red solo cup filled with some alcohol that tastes better than whatever she had the last time, it doesn’t burn her throat whenever she takes a sip of it and it flows down quite nicely if you ask her. Her body feels loose and overall she feels happy, she doesn’t find herself worrying about anything or overthinking.

A few people bump into her while she stands but she doesn’t mind that much, simply apologizing to them as she steps out of the way. The music is something pleasant and she thinks she maybe knows this song as it plays through the speakers, she finds herself mouthing along to the words as she makes her way through the crowd. She’s sure Harry couldn’t have gotten too far, she just wants to tell him about whatever drink she has and tell him how much she likes it. She just wants to see him. She stumbles as she walks hinting at the fact that she might have had a little too much to drink, bumping into a few people as she passes through. It’s nice to not have to be the one that’s sober like she usually is, although she hopes Harry kept his promise and stayed sober in his role as the designated driver. It’s nice to be able to let loose and honestly, she understands a little why Harry likes to go to these things.

As she passes through the crowd with a content smile on her face, she makes sure to ask a few people if they’ve seen her best friend. Some tell her the last place they’ve seen him while others haven’t seen him, she thanks them all the same with a smile on her face. She continues passing through the crowd until she finds a little glimpse of an opening in the crowd, the people slowly beginning to thin out and the music grows softer. When she makes it all the way through she sees Harry leaning against a wall, one hand nervously fidgeting with his hair and the other wrapped around his phone tightly.

He bites at his bottom lip nervously and she just wants to coo at him, kiss him and hug him forever.

“What’s a matter?” She asks as she steps closer to the boy, and his face immediately lights up and all of the tension seems to melt away.

“Couldn’t find you, honey. I went to the kitchen and you weren’t there, I tried to call you and you didn’t answer. I thought you… I was scared.” He says as he wraps her tight in his arms. She doesn’t try to say anything, she knows how he gets whenever he’s nervous and assuming the worst happened, allows him to take in the moment and to calm him down. They rock gently, his face pressed into her hair as he breathes her scent in.

He pulls away a couple minutes later and they stare at each other, his brow furrowed and lips slicked with spit, jade irises shining under the lights and filled with relief and care. Y/N doesn’t know what came over her, what led her to do what she’s about to do but her in the future better be prepared and absolutely angry at herself for drinking so much. She slowly begins to lean forward, tilt her head and pucker her lips subtly. Of course, Harry doesn’t think much of it or doesn’t care when their lips meet.

Slow and tender, she doesn’t bother to move her lips. She’s content with a peck, doesn't need to be greedy. He just looked so pretty that she couldn’t help herself. Harry’s arms are tight around her, keeping her close to him as if she planned on walking away again. She pulls away with a soft click and she licks her own lips, a goofy smile on her face as she stares at him.

“‘M so lucky.” She says, her words kinda slowed and all Harry can do is stare in shock at the girl.

He’s unsure what to do now although he knows the responsible thing to do is to take her home, get her changed and tucked into bed where there definitely won’t be anymore kisses and she’ll be safe and sound. He just stares at her, her eyes unfocused and her eyelashes wet as she stares back. The music blares but to them it’s simply background music, the two of them seemingly secluded away in their own personal bubble. It’s usually how it always is though, wherever they go but it always happens at these parties Harry drags her to, they’ll isolate themselves somewhere in a corner and just chat away until Harry decides to mingle with the other party goers. Harry thinks she’s pretty like this, well he usually always thinks she’s pretty. He likes to see her dress up though, which is why he invites her to so many of these parties, likes knowing all of the girls there envy Y/N because she’s his best friend.

A couple minutes go by, hours maybe but Harry doubts it, and Harry decides to take a couple steps back and rubs his hands down her arms to interlace their fingers together.

“Hey, love bug. You ready to go home?” He asks gently, wary of the fact that she could be more emotional and isn’t thinking straight in the first place for her to kiss him. The girl simply nods her head and allows the boy to lead her through the party crowd and outside, while Harry makes sure she doesn’t bump into any cars on the way to his own car. The breeze is soft and warm, gently caressing their cheeks as it passes through. The sun is filtering through the clouds, landing on Y/N’s face as they walk.

It doesn’t take very long to reach his car because he almost always parks as close to the entrance to make it easier for the other to escort them to the car when they’re drunk. It usually always ends up being Harry, so it feels weird in a way to have the roles reversed, to have him being the one taking care of her. He unlocks the car when they get close enough, his arm wrapped securely around the drunken girl just in case she stumbles. He listens as she rambles about something he can’t make out, her words slurring together due to excitement and her being drunk. A quality of hers that he’s always found endearing, so he lets her ramble of course, humming along to show he’s listening and only occasionally adding his own input when asked and he’s able to make out what she’s doing.

He opens the door for her, getting her all settled in and closing the door behind him, walking around to the driver’s side and starting the car. Once he starts driving, the radio stays off and the windows down to let in the breeze, Harry tries his best to ignore the feeling of her eyes on him.

— — —

Two weeks have passed since the drunken kiss incident and neither of them have really said much about it. Harry brought it up to her a couple days later and she only laughed and said it’s okay, everyone does stupid stuff when they’re drunk. Nothing has changed between the two necessarily, maybe Harry’s been going out of his way to walk her to her class and yeah maybe they have to be touching in any way. Whether it be holding hands like how they used to do, kisses on the forehead and cheeks, or their arms slung across the other waist or shoulders.

So he assumes that there’s nothing else to make of it, it’s not a big deal and honestly if it hasn’t affected their friendship, then he doesn’t mind ignoring it. He has noticed that she’s been the one to initiate the physical touch now, more open about it whereas before she shied away from it in hopes to not upset any of the girls in school. She doesn’t swat at his chest whenever he calls her the exaggerated pet names he used purposely to annoy her, she even said a few of them back. Sure, sometimes he’ll catch her looking at him with eyes all gooey late at night but that must be because she hasn’t had enough sleep.

They’re still the same two best friends like before, just a smidge different but it’s not a bad difference. Y/N thinks she could be okay with the way they are now, living in her own little imagination where they’re more than friends.

Which is why Y/N’s confused whenever Harry knocks on her door early in the morning. Ten in the morning isn’t super early but it’s definitely earlier than she’d like to be awake on a day where she has absolutely nothing else to do. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as she gets out of bed and throws on some clothes as she makes her way to the door of her dorm. When she opens it, she sees Harry and a beautiful brunette by his side. She looks familiar to the girl, maybe they’ve shared a class before but all in all Y/N’s confused. Harry usually doesn’t stop by without letting her know (not that it mattered, he was over all the time it seemed) and definitely never brought another girl by.

“Harry? What’s going on?” Y/N asks, a yawn escaping her mouth afterwards and the other girl just smiles at Harry.

“Y/N, this is my girlfriend Liv. Liv, this is my best friend Y/N.” Harry says as he points at the girls, introducing them.

Y/N knows the respectful and proper thing to do is to greet her and welcome them into her to get to know one another, but she can’t wrap her brain around it all. She stares at them, more at the girl than Harry. She can’t bring herself to look at him without wanting to cry, she watches as Liv leans forward to give her a hug and tells her how it’s so great to finally meet her and then Y/N’s slamming the door in their face. She stares at the now closed door and hurries to lock it, she’s sure Harry will just open the door even though deep down she knows he won’t do that unless told otherwise that he can.

Usually, he talks to her about the girls he’s interested in, asks her if it’s okay to bring them over and gives her plenty of time to have her - unknown to him - breakdowns and prepare herself for this moment. She’s not sure when this happened or why he didn’t talk to her about it first, the only thing she’s sure of is the absolute heartache she feels right now. The painful jab in her heart with every beat, the feeling of her stomach falling. The pain that’s beginning to bloom in her head and the feeling of her knees hitting the floor, hard enough to leave a bruise but she can’t bring herself to care about that at the moment.

The immediate sting in her eyes as tears well up and fall from her eyes, the betrayal, the jealousy tearing its way up. The heartache overall is one she’s felt in smaller amounts as she listens to Harry talk about whichever girl he’s interested in asking out, but this.. this is something completely different. It’s intense, it burns and she can’t breathe. She can feel her heart pounding in her chest, beating faster than normal.

She lets out loud sobs, cries she should be embarrassed of but at this moment she can’t bring herself to care. She’s grateful her roommates aren’t here, they kept telling her it’s not worth it to stay best friends with Harry due to how much she liked him. She constantly argued that she knew what she was doing, she could handle her own if something like this happened. She should’ve listened to them, would she have stopped being friends with Harry? She doesn’t think so, might’ve been distant to allow her feelings to dwindle back down.

She’s not sure how long she stayed on the floor as tears streamed down her face when her phone rings. She grabs it and stares at the screen, Harry’s name flashing across the screen and she just sighs as she turns the ringer off and sets the phone on the couch. She can’t talk to him right now. She stares at the floor, memories of their friendship flicking in and out, the memory of their kiss haunts her, she feels stupid. She hoped they were moving towards a relationship, how silly of her to think they could ever be more than just friends.

After a couple hours, she manages to pull herself from the floor and begins to make her way to her bed. Her safe haven, she can wrap herself in her softest blanket and read her silly little romance books or watch her favorite movie, where she can wallow in her own self pity. There’s a knock on the door, whoever’s on the other side knocks one, two, three times before it goes silent. She hopes they’ll go away, her roommates have a key so it can’t be someone she has to open the door for.

“Y/N. It’s me, Harry. I don’t know what I did that upset you so much, she’s gone. It’s just me. Please open the door, let’s talk about this.” He says, somewhat muffled but she can still hear how his voice is watery and shaky, can hear the pain in his voice and she just sniffles as she walks towards the door.

“There’s… nothing to talk about. Go home.” Her voice is just a reflection on how she feels right now, she’s sure he can hear it from the other side.

“Yes there is, Y/N. You slammed the door, the look on your face… I don’t know what all that was about but you looked so hurt. I want to know what happened.” He says and she just frowns.

He’s never paid attention to how her face looked before so why does it matter, she opens the door and stares at him. Fresh tears welling up in the girls’ eyes and she swears she can feel her heart breaking even more. He looks just about how she thinks she looks. His eyes full of tears and eyelashes all clumped together, red cheeks stained with tears and his skin flushed. His lips are wet and he can’t stop pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

“You happened, Harry. I tried, God I tried so hard to get over it. But I can’t. I’m so in love with you it hurts. It hurts to hear you talk about the girls you like knowing it’s not me, hurts hearing all the girls gossip about you and the things you do for them. It hurts when you’re drunk and treating me like I’m yours, calling me all these sweet fucking pet names and holding me close to you. It hurts that we act like we’re together and we just aren’t, we’ll never be. I love you so much that I’m just hurting myself in the process. I’m so scared to lose you that I tell myself that just being your friend is okay. I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you” A sob interrupts her, a wet choking sound and she sighs.

“I can’t just keep hoping and praying that something will happen and we’ll finally be together, it hurts too much. I’m so lucky to have you in my life and be your friend, but I don’t know if I can handle just being your friend. I can’t handle hoping that I’ll get my chance. I’m tired of waiting for something that’ll never happen. I’m not cutting you out because I don’t want to lose you, I just need some time alone. I need to get over you and learn how to be okay with just being your friend and nothing more.” She says through her tears and immediately she’s wrapped in a strong hug, his scent filling her nose and she cries even harder.

“I’m sorry I’ve been hurting you and didn’t see it. Take as much time as you need honey, I’ll be waiting for you always.”

“Okay, thank you.” She says as she pulls away and he nods, a sad smile on his face that she wishes wasn’t because of her.

“I love you.” He says before she shuts the door once more, the wall of their friendship being built slowly.

‘I love you’ she thinks is just the worst thing she’s ever heard, just a painful reminder that the love they share has never been on the same page, just another shatter of her already broken heart.

You can’t have love without the pain, and she’s the definition of just how much love can truly hurt you.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harrystyles #harry edward styles #harry styles angst #best friend!harry #my writing

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llamagoddessofficial · 4 months

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Can you believe I've never done Farmtale Sans before? As a certified country girl? Shocking, I know. I'll rectify this issue with my latest brainrot scenario immediately

---

“whoever this is, it better be real fuckin’ important,” the voice at the other end said, gruff and tired, heavy with a mix of annoyance and sleepiness.

Immediately, shame washed over you. The very small amount of steam you’d managed to muster up completely dissipated from your body as you imagined Sans’ disappointed and disbelieving reaction to your pathetic request.

This was a mistake.

“... H-hey. Uhm... I’m fine, I didn’t mean to call. Butt dial, hahah.” Your voice nearly cracked. “Sorry for waking you up.”

“... wait.” His voice instantly changed. “hey, don’t hang up-”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said. You hung up, and put the phone down. Now you were right back to square one, sitting at the kitchen table in a freezing empty house at 2 in the morning. It had taken you almost half an hour to muster up the courage to call him- thirty minutes of sitting by the phone, wrapped up in your coat, shaking and holding back tears. You started plotting places you were going to sleep. Maybe if you put more wood in the kitchen stove, you could just sleep at the table until morning.

... You inherited this place from your grandmother. It was a ‘rustic’ house that hadn’t seen human company for over a decade, in the middle of the deep countryside, cut off from almost everything. Spooky, draughty, on nights like tonight sitting in the kitchen was like sitting in a fridge. You had moved out of necessity- your landlord in the city had evicted you from your beloved apartment to jack up his prices, and you couldn’t find anywhere else to live except this middle-of-nowhere house left in your name.

You had lived in the city your whole life. You weren’t used to being in the country, not at all. The month you’d spent here had only reinforced that fact to you, over and over.

Something made a noise outside. An animal, maybe. You curled your coat tighter around you.

The only upside so far had been meeting the monsters that made up the tight-knit community you had been unceremoniously dropped into. Papyrus and Sans, especially, had been so wonderful and helpful. Sans had told you to call if you needed anything.

... Which was exactly why you didn’t have the heart to tell him why you were really calling. You didn’t want him to think any worse of you than he probably already did. A stuck-up city girl who doesn’t know what she’s doing.

You were scared.

...

The phone rang. The sound made you jump, it felt so loud in the silence. Despite your increasing shame, and the desire to just let it ring... you picked up.

“c’mon, don’t be like that.” He sounded much softer than when he had first answered. “what’s wrong? something happen?”

“N-no.” Hearing someone else’s voice was so comforting. You felt so alone, far away from everyone. “It’s nothing.”

You obviously weren’t very convincing. “doesn’t seem like nothing. you sound terrified.”

“I’m just cold.”

“didja kill someone? do i need to come over and help hide a body?”

You couldn’t help it, that made you giggle a little.

...

It just came. You didn’t entirely know why. Probably because it was two, and you hadn’t slept since six the previous morning. Unable to help yourself, you just... burst into tears.

“hey. s’ok, you’re gonna be ok. i’m on the way.”

“N-no, no, please,” You pressed your sleeve against your eyes The shame was absolutely overwhelming. “Please don’t come,”

“too late. already outta bed, it’s serious business. you gonna tell me what’s got you all shaken up?”

You pulled your knees up to your face. Well, no hiding it now, huh? He’d heard you sobbing over the phone. Your voice crumpled under a mixture of tears, fear, immense fatigue and shame. You felt like such a baby.

“Th-there’s a huge spider on my bed,” you finally admitted, feebly. “I-I’m... I don’t know what to do.”

“aw jeez. why didn’t you just say?”

You could suddenly barely talk through the crying. Hours of stress, all coming out in one mess. He probably thought you were pathetic.

“hey. knock knock.”

As he said that, you heard two soft knocks on your side door. You jumped up, what the hell? Was that Sans? You dropped the phone and rushed to the door to let him in, almost tripping over yourself.

You opened the door, the air was full of the sound of wind and crickets. Sans stood in the darkness outside of the house, dressed in a thick knitted sweater, blue and white striped pyjama bottoms, big heavy boots, and a coat over the top of it all. He had the phone in one hand, and his smile widened when he saw you.

Shocked, you scrubbed at your eyes and nose again, self consciously trying to wipe off the tears and snot. He lived half an hour's drive from you. “H-how... how did you get here so fast?”

“shortcut.” He winked, those lovely emerald green eyelights glimmering in the low light. “can i come in?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice, stepping to the side. Maybe he knew roads your map apps didn't. Sans eagerly came into the light, kicking off his shoes and closing the door behind him.

“this way?” he asked.

... You showed him to the bedroom, but cowered in the doorway.

“I-it’s under the sheet.”

Sans didn’t even hesitate. He approached the bed and flipped back the sheet. The spider hadn’t moved since you last saw it scurry under your bedclothes, still sitting right there, with its fat hairy body and sharp legs. It was probably the biggest spider you had ever seen in your entire life. You felt a horrible chill pass over you.

“dang. he is big. look at the size of that gangly fucker.”

Having said that, Sans just... grabbed it. He picked the spider up before it could run and held it in his enclosed fist like he was scooping up a penny he had dropped on the floor. Just like that, he moved across the room and pulled back the curtain, cracked the window open, stuck his arm out, and threw the spider out into the darkness.

He closed the window again. The air felt less heavy. He even tugged the handle to make sure the window was all properly sealed up, pulling the curtains closed again.

It took him all of fifteen seconds.

“all good.” He turned to you, grinning and showing you his open palms. No spider. “successfully evicted.”

...

You started crying again.

Sans mumbled a soft ‘aw jeez’. He didn’t hesitate to cross the room, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a warm hug, ignoring your babbled apologies.

“he really spooked ya, huh?” A gentle hand smoothed over your hair. He smelled like sweet hay, hours of sunshine, and something slightly musky. “how long were you tryna drum up the courage?”

“T-two hours,” you sobbed, muffled in his sweater.

You’d expected him to laugh at you. But he didn’t. He just held you, letting you cry out all the stress that had been building up over the course of the night. You were pretty sure this was the first time you had been hugged since before you left the city.

Eventually, you calmed yourself down, reducing to just hiccups. Sans didn’t let go until you did, allowing you to pull away, but keeping a steadying hand on your arm.

“easy, pet.” His voice was so warm and soothing. “you’re all good.”

“Fucking... I’m just such a baby.” Your sleeves were damp from all of the tear wiping you were doing. You made an unattractive sniffling sound. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

“cus i’m used to ‘em. also, i’m a skeleton, so i don’t gotta worry about being bitten. no shame in bein’ scared of the big ones.”

Your voice was hoarse. “I’m sorry you came out all this way.”

“... did you think i’d be mad at you?” he asked, softly.

“M-mhm.”

“i really don’t mind bein’ yer bug removing hero." He patted his nonexistent bicep. "tell ya what, it makes me feel very big an’ tough.”

He had you giggling again. He always did. He seemed proud of himself- his presence was balm to your Soul right now.

“I just... I get so scared at night.” Your cheeks were hot. “It’s so quiet, and dark. I feel like I’m the only person around for miles. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

"this?"

"Living out here."

“hey, i beg to differ. yer already doin’ so much better than most who move to these parts.”

You looked up at him. Why did that tiny bit of praise make your heart swell so much? You didn’t feel like you were doing ‘better’. You’d just called your nearest neighbour at 2 in the morning to come save you from a spider. “But I’m always asking for help.”

“exactly. you’re askin’. that’s the important part.” His eyelights were so warm. “that’s how we make it work, out here. we help each other.”

Goddamnit. You were gonna cry again. You just about managed to choke it down.

“... the animal noises also probably freak you out too, huh?”

“Y-yeah, hah.”

“if you don’t know what yer hearin’, it can be pretty scary.”

... You sniffled.

...

“... you’re shaking. d’ya want me to stay?”

How did he know? He always just seemed to know. You nodded, meekly. You didn’t want to be alone right now, and you knew the house would feel even colder and emptier once you’d known how it felt while you had company.

“Will Papyrus be worried?”

“he knew i was headin’ out to help ya. he’ll be fine.”

... You didn’t need to say out loud where you wanted Sans to sleep. Both of you knew.

The two of you finally took off your coats, and Sans turned off the lights. His forest-coloured eyelights were the only illumination in the room. As soon as he shuffled into bed beside you, you gratefully curled up against him, he was so calming and so warm. He reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, his comforting smell soothing your shot nerves.

“... Thank you.” Your voice was almost a whisper.

“yer really warm.” he hummed. “just so you know, i’m a bit of a snorer.”

You probably should’ve been more concerned, sharing a bed in a very secluded location with a guy you barely knew. But you didn’t have the energy for it. For the first time in a long time, you were warm, didn’t feel lonely, and weren’t worried at all about bugs.

“I don’t mind.”

... It was the best night’s sleep you’d ever had.

#llama writes #first time writing farmtale sans !!#big soft man

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earlgreyflowers · 5 months

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Hii! Can you do something with Redbull Seb and these 46, 49, 52, 95, 4, 75? You don't need to use all of them, I just put some of them so you could see my vision. Thank you <3

First time writing Seb but the wheel of fics has spoken and so today is the day, praying this goes well

Translation: Biene = Bee in German

---------------------------------------

"I'm not going to touch you unless you beg," Seb hums in your ear, smirking at the groan of frustration that bubbles from your throat. "Come on Seb, I've been waiting all night, please just touch me." You whine, bucking your hips towards his face in impatience. His hands force your hips back down, "Good girl, that wasn't so hard was it?" He smiles, his fingers wiping through your folds. "So wet for me biene, do you want to cum?" He asks, running the tip of his finger over your clit, making your walls clench around nothing.

"Please Seb, want to cum for you so bad, please do something." You moan out, patience wearing even thinner as he takes his time exploring you with just one finger. "Maybe I'd rather take my time, let you wait for it even longer." He hums, clicking his tongue in disappointment at the way you roll your eyes in annoyance. When his fingers still don't slip inside you, you let out a groan of annoyance. You hoist yourself up onto your elbow, the other arm tugging on Seb's hair to force him to look up at you.

"Yes schatze? What can I do for you?" He asks, coy smile playing on his lips.

"Put that snarky mouth to work Sebastian or I swear to god I won't have sex with you for a month." You threaten, the tone of your voice making Seb's cock twitch in its confines. "Okay okay, jeez." He huffs, cheesy grin taking over his face at the way you let his hair go as you lie back down. He starts by placing kisses around your pussy, avoiding the one place you ache for him most. Once you dig your heels into his shoulder he gets the hint, enveloping your clit in his mouth. The warmth from his mouth makes you clench, your thighs tightening slightly around his head. His tongue flicks out as he sucks, sending vibrations through your body as his spit drips down your pussy. You moan out his name, this time threading your fingers in his hair to hold his heavenly tongue against you.

His tongue darts everywhere, tasting every inch of you. He sucks and nibbles at your clit, the movement of his jaw causing his chin to brush against your entrance. His hand joins his mouth, slipping a finger inside you. Your walls clamp around his finger as he groans at your wetness. His finger feels around your walls, pushing against the spongy spot located on the front wall, curling his finger as he continues to suck your clit. He feels the way you clench around him, your moans increasing in volume. Removing his head from you he requests, "Tell me when you're about to cum biene." You nod in response, urging his head to resume its original position.

It doesn't take long for the pit in your stomach to spread, warmth feeling your bones as you feel yourself getting closer to your peak. "Gonna cum Seb." You whine, tugging at his hair. He pulls back once more, removing his finger too this time. You look down at him in shock, his hair wild, pink lips swollen with your juices. "You're not allowed to cum without my permission." He tells you, crawling over the top of you to place a kiss on your lips. "Payback for being bossy." He whispers against your lips. You just groan, smashing your lips together and tasting yourself on his tongue.

Sebastian continues to kiss you as he slides two fingers inside you, scissoring them against your walls. You moan his name into his mouth, your nails scratching the back of his neck in pleasure as he plunges them deeper inside you. His fingers have always felt much better than yours, their length allowing them to reach places you could only dream of. He could read your body like a book, finding the moment he hooks his fingers against your g-spot, your breath hitching and stomach contracting. He continues to press his fingers against the spot, enjoying the way you squirm against him.

His mouth travels down your collarbone, reaching your breasts. Your pebbled nipples lean toward his mouth as your arch your back at his actions between your legs. He captures one in his mouth, swirling his tongue and enjoying the way your nipple seems to get impossibly harder. He will always love the way you react to him, the way he seems to be able to draw things out of you when anybody else would assume you have nothing left to give. Seb can feel the way you're tightening around his fingers and removes them once more, watching your hole clench around the emptiness.

"Don't cum yet." He murmurs as he guides himself inside you. The stretch of your walls around his cock making you mewl. You claw at his shoulders as he seats himself inside you, your walls pulsing around his thick cock. Sliding himself out he moans at the way your jaw drops when he slams himself back inside, whispering praises in your ear at the way you take him.

"Seb, please, I'm so close." You mewl, "I don't know if I can hold it any longer." Tears well in your ears at the pleasure beginning to overcome you, Seb's thumb wiping one away as it drips down your cheek. "You can cum whenever you'd like biene, been so good for me, want to feel it." He groans, his head dropping to your shoulder as he pounds into you. His words were all you needed, letting go and soaking his cock in your cum. He whimpers at the way your walls clamp around him, biting down onto your shoulder lightly as his orgasm hits him, hips stuttering against your own.

Seb manages to hold himself above you long enough to pull out before rolling over and collapsing next to you. He pulls you into his side, stroking your hair as your eyes start to close. "Did so good for me biene, want a bath now?" He questions, smiling as you nod into his neck. "Cuddle me for a bit longer first though, please." You whisper out, curling into his body further and enjoying the way his arms feel around you.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #smut prompts #smut requests #smut writing #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x female reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel smut #seb vettel #sv55 #sv55 smut #sv55 x you #sv55 imagine

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 2 months

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Can I make a request for an S/O who has a pet that is extremely gruesome and scary, but is very cuddly and protective when interacting with its owner? Like, like the animal was something similar to the Demongorgon or something.

If you can, do it for Sarah, Shenhen, Dehya, Candance and Navia.

(Genshin Impact) Sara, Shenhe, Dehya, Candace, and Navia's S/O with a terrifying pet

I was bouncing between a Tyranid from 40k or a terrifying bug from a user created horror story called Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, but I'll just settle on some non particular bug abomination.

Sara was barely able to hold back from immediately drawing her bow when she walked into S/O's house the first time and saw a massive insect inside.

It nearly stood up to the ceiling as it straightened its back, before relaxing from seeing its owner.

(Sara) "What is that?!"

(S/O) "OH! S-Sorry, I forgot to mention it to you beforehand! This is my pet!"

Sara stared at S/O before her eyes slowly glanced over to the "pet" they kept.

It resembled some kind of centipede with massive antennas, but had arms resembling a...human?!

Sara still kept her battle stance, wearily looking at it before turning to S/O, noticing their relatively happy expression.

(Sara) "...And, this will pose no threat to the people of Inazuma?"

(S/O) "Of course not, he doesn't eat people!"

(Sara) sigh "Thank the Almighty Sho-"

(S/O) "He eats corpses! It's a scavenger bug, not a predator!"

(Sara) "..."

Sara is uneasy around S/O's pet, putting it mildly.

The only place she doesn't allow S/O to cuddle her is at their house.

The one time she allowed them to rest their head on her shoulder, the romantic mood was immediately halted by S/O's pet resting its head on their lap.

Despite how much it unsettled her, she could at least complement its intelligence and loyalty.

When S/O was threatened, it would immediately attack whenever they commanded it to.

It even enjoyed getting pet, though Sara politely declined from doing so herself.

As long as it didn't cause a public disturbance, it was fine to remain.

But Archons help S/O if she gets a report of that...thing threatening a citizen, not even its terrifying and gross legs would skitter away from her wrath.

Shenhe reached for her polearm before realizing the bug was relaxing near S/O.

She had seen all kinds of fantastical sights thanks to her Master, so it didn't really take long for her to adjust.

(Shenhe) "...Is that a pet, S/O?"

(S/O) "Sure is! This little guy has been with me for a long time!"

(Shenhe) "I see. It is good you have a companion."

The bug's head, or at least what she assumed was the head, seemed to lean into S/O's hand as they scratched under the chin.

...Neat.

Shenhe is used to nature, but she had never seen a creature like this before.

But then again, being with S/O taught her all kinds of new things, maybe this was another she should take heed of.

Seeing other people react to the bug, she moves to protect it like she would S/O.

Something that even it recognized, and protected Shenhe like its owner.

The only thing Shenhe dislikes about the bug is how clingy it got whenever she was wanting to spend time with S/O.

Other than that, the bug and Shenhe have a strange silent respect for each other.

(Dehya) "S/O, GET BACK!-"

Dehya suddenly leaps into action when a giant bug-like creature emerged from the sand behind S/O.

Before S/O got in the way, trying (and failing) to keep her arm down.

(S/O) "WAIT, DEHYA! I-It's with me!"

Dehya's expression was something between confusion and anger, quickly looking back at S/O and the bug.

Just as they said, it was just staring at her before turning its attention to its owner.

(Dehya) "Jeez, ya never thought to bring this up to me before?! It looks like it could eat us!"

(S/O) "I-If it makes you feel any better, it's like a vulture! A scavenger eater, only corpses!"

(Dehya) "It really doesn't..."

Dehya is honestly creeped the hell out by S/O's pet.

She's seen a lot of desert fauna, but nothing like what S/O had.

It especially didn't help matters that it liked to hide under the sand until S/O spent time with it.

She especially didn't like that it butted its head in whenever she wanted to hold S/O.

More than one occasion she was ready to tell it off before S/O did so gently, letting it gently comply.

The other mercs are completely freaked out by it, which she doesn't blame them for in the slightest.

But, it did help during their contracts by scaring the hell out of rival clients, other eremites, and animals in general.

Begrudgingly, she let S/O keep it, but then again maybe it's best it remains with them and doesn't wander off in the desert to potentially reproduce.

Candace notices something shifting in the sands near S/O, which she immediately raises her spear to throw at-

Before S/O frantically waved their hands, signaling to her not to attack.

Candace sees the bug emerge from the sand as it gives S/O a lift, riding towards her.

She takes a step back from unease, sizing the bug up and down before turning to S/O.

(Candace) "Have you...tamed this creature?"

(S/O) "K-Kinda? I didn't really tame it per se, more like we became friends!"

Candace did acknowledge it had some kind of intelligence in its eyes, as it responded perfectly to S/O's commands.

Being reassured by S/O that it would not attack the people of Aaru village, or eat the children, she allowed it to stay.

It took a bit for her to get used to it, but she no longer flinches seeing the bug.

It helped that it didn't seem to be naturally part of the desert, since she had never seen anything like it before.

Eventually, it became as much of a guardian of the town as Candace, much to her shock.

When S/O was threatened, the bug leapt from the sands and dragged them under, and the same went for any of the townsfolk.

The only thing she asks is that it sleeps outside, mostly just cause it'd drag sand all over the floor.

(S/O) "HOLY CRAP, GIANT BUG!-"

S/O immediately aims her umbrella-shotgun before S/O stopped her from pulling the trigger.

(S/O) "W-WAIT! NAVIA, IT'S MY PET!"

(Navia) "Your pet?! That thing could eat one of the Clockwork Meka whole!"

She shuddered in terror as it skittered towards S/O, seemingly lax by their mere presence.

This sure as hell wasn't a man's best friend situation, and every cell in her body wanted to shoot it.

But seeing as it was with S/O, she very reluctantly let S/O keep it.

The only thing is that it HAD to stay outside the city and only in S/O's home.

Every single Meka and Guard would be trying to kill it, not that she wouldn't blame them either.

Navia screams in terror everytime she opens the door to find it turn its head towards her.

Why couldn't S/O just have a cat or something...?

Her urge to stomp the bug grows bigger when she moves to hug or kiss S/O, only to watch it approach from seeming jealousy.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #sara kujou x reader #shenhe x reader #dehya x reader #candace genshin impact x reader #navia x reader #kujou sara #shenhe genshin impact #dehya genshin #candace genshin impact #navia genshin impact

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star-burst365 · 8 months

Text

“Children have treated toys better than you’ve treated me.”

As much as I love Scarlett (I’m an avid Tella hater im sorry), Evangeline is absolutely my favorite MC that Stephanie has written so far.

Here you have a deeply lonely character who hasn’t even turned 18 yet. All Evangeline wants is love — she gives so much of it (again and again) and it’s all she wants back. She forgives Marisol, befriends Luc again, and gives Jacks and the other Fates second and third and fourth chances. That’s why it hurts so badly when she gets so little of it. Everyone in the book uses her. Tiberius (to frame her for murder), Marisol, her Stepmother, Chaos, LaLa, and even Jacks. She stayed the entire night hugging (kind of) almost-vampire Jacks in the crypt just for him to abandon her when it was her under the venom 😭. In Jacks’s own words, she’s “the unluckiest person he’s ever met.” Our poor girl cannot catch a break: everyone in the books manipulate her for their own gain while she gets absolutely nothing in return, despite getting things done for the people around her. She found the stones, she unlocked the arch, and what did she get as a thank you? Dying in the arms of her almost-lover, before being turned away cruelly by said almost-lover and losing her memories. Jeez.

But that’s why it’s so inspiring seeing her get back up again and again. Evangeline would kill them with kindness if she wasn’t nice enough to try and save each and every one of them. She hugs and forgives LaLa after she placed a curse on her. She tries to talk Petra out of killing her (we all know how that went, yikes). She chooses Jacks again and again, because that’s what love is. It’s everything she stands for: fighting for the people you love and never abandoning them.

Idk, maybe it’s just me, but I really would love to see more of the characters appreciating her, this girl and her blind faith in everything that moves, who’s stubborn and fearless and determined to help others instead of herself. So excited for acftl <3

#thank you for coming to my evangeline appreciation post #she needs more love #hoping jacks will give it to her 👀#tbona #evajacks #ouabh #evangeline fox #jacks prince of hearts #jacks x evangeline #acftl #caraval #tbona spoilers #actfl #acftl spoilers #ouabh spoilers #evangeline x jacks #lala lagrimas #chaos #castor valor

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