#and also in all the shading. This genuinely is so gorgeous!

[katyawriteswhump]

(i'm still) watching you—harringrove microfic

my first attempt at harringrove and probably totally weird like my usual shit, so… yeah, nervous. but I love prompts/challenges too much to resist… Pls be kind 🙂 

WC: 914. For @harringrovemicrofic prompt, green (I also got a passing mention of Jason Carver in for the additional prompt.)

CW: None. Tags: angst, pining, chronic illness (Fibro/Chronic fatigue), enemies to lovers, h/c, no Upside Down AU, slightly soft Billy? Rating: M.

…

Steve hated sitting in the stands watching the Tigers win without him.

Hargrove rained all over the hoop, right until the full-time whistle ripped through Steve’s skull. Simultaneously, Billy ripped his vest off—shouting, thudding his chest, scanning the crowd.

His crazily soft-blue eyes rested on Steve. That smug grin faltered, and Steve’s heart gave a crazy little squeeze.

Billy’s attention snapped away. His teammates carried him on a lap of victory, and Steve shaded his eyes. Too fucking much. Since he’d got sick, the doctors had droned on about Steve having to pace himself. Today, that’d been a bust—all for the torture of watching Hargrove play.

Even though Steve hated him.

And he’d chew on that image of shirtless Billy for goddamn weeks.

“Stop bawling, Harrington.” Steve startled, squinted into the suddenly too-bright light. Tommy H waggled a stuffed tiger in front of his nose: “You can be team mascot. This one’s got even less backbone than you.”

“Jesus, I’m gonna punch your stupid face in!”

Steve pushed himself up. Despite his dumb threat, it took all his strength to stumble away. Halfway to the exit, he collapsed onto a seat, slumping forward with his head in his hands. The crowd stomped by, sending shockwaves through his aching bones. Nobody offered to help. Probably figured he’d bite their heads off…

A hand landed on his shoulder. “You okay?” asked Billy.

WTF? Steve flinched away. Up close, he couldn’t handle those stupidly long lashes and gorgeous eyes. “M’fine.”

“Want a ride?”

“You leaving already?” Steve gawked at Billy’s pecs. “Guess there’s only so much showboating even your fat ego can take.”

Billy arched his brow. “I’m sick of this shit. Your ex-teammates are fucking losers, you know that?”

Uh… Yeah?

“Whatever, dude. I’m leaving with Nance.” Steve had just spotted her with freshman golden-boy, Jason Carver, scribbling madly in her notebook.

“She’s writing an essay on that asshole. Couldn’t bag me. Seriously, I need space. Figured you might too.”

Space with me? “Jesus, you still never stop talking! You hate me. What’s your game?”

Billy shrugged. “I don’t hate you, man. It genuinely sucks you had to be benched. Don’t have to believe me, but I actually miss you.”

Miss humiliating me? Miss me rubbing my ass against you while you shoved me around!?! Guess I enjoyed touching you as much as I hated you. I mean, uh, I STILL hate you…

“I don’t need your fucking sympathy, Hargrove.”

“Not offering fucking sympathy.”

Steve’s heart repeated that crazy squeeze. He’d grabbed the hem of Billy’s green shorts before he knew it.

Don’t leave. I honestly can’t get up without help right now. Won’t ask for help, either.

Billy harrumphed vaguely, casually offered a hand. Steve clasped it—since when did he dig slippery palms?—let Billy draw him up and sling an arm around him. Even with Billy’s help, the effort of walking consumed Steve completely till he sank into the Camaro.

Billy winked at him from the driver’s seat. “Don’t worry, I’ll go gentle.”

“Jesus, I’m not gonna break.”

“You wanna go home?”

Yeah, I totally should. “No fucking way. Anywhere but this dump.”  

With minimal wheelspin, Billy tore from the school grounds. He didn’t play loud music. They didn’t talk much either. Seemed Billy did occasionally shut up. Only Steve fizzing nerves—WTF AM I DOING?—kept him awake until Billy slammed to a halt.

Steve blinked. “Where are we?”

“One of the few places in this shithole that’s not a shithole.” Billy hurried around and helped Steve from the car.

“I’m not a fucking princess,” Steve bitched.

“Whatever you say, pretty boy.”

“Screw you.” Steve’s glare melted into a laugh that he almost felt.

They’d arrived somewhere in the hills, which smelled of spring grasses. Steve slipped from Billy’s warm grasp—not without a dumbass pang—lay flat on the soft turf. Beyond the trickle of a stream, it was so quiet, he dozed almost instantly.

Then, through the blur of his lashes, he spotted Billy stripping his shorts. Christ, that ass!

Billy headed for the stream. His smirk was as mind-blowing as his body. “I skipped showers.”

“Fucking show-boater.” Steve snickered.

He watched Billy wade thigh deep, splash sparkling droplets over that lick-able, lithely muscled torso. He wished he could watch this a billion times over, ached to join Billy, then his eyelids grew too heavy, his fatigue winning, and… Shit!

Deep inside, something snapped. He slung an arm across his face and cried, drifted, then cried again, shamelessly sniffling. A brush against his arm stirred him. Billy lay stretched beside him, towel around his waist, chin rested on a fist.

“Tears are cathartic, huh?”

Steve rolled to full-on sneer at Billy. Ended up fixed on Billy’s lush mouth, fretting his own lower lip. “Quit mocking me.”

“I’m not. Tears help. Apart from when they’re too damn painful. You don’t have to say which those are.”

Billy reached out, as if to push hair from Steve’s damp eyes, then hesitated. Steve grabbed Billy’s fingers, like he’d grabbed for his shorts. He barely breathed. He clasped Billy’s stream-chilled knuckles to his own burning face, like his life depended on it.

“Meant what I said about missing you,” murmured Billy, as Steve drowned in those adoring eyes. “None of those dicks are half-decent rivals. It sucks we never got a chance to work through that tension and…"

This is a dream, right?

Billy’s fingers slid up through Steve’s hair, gently drawing him closer, and they tumbled into a kiss.

#harringrovemicrofic3 #harringrove microfic #harringrovemicrofic #harringrove #harringrove ficlet #steve harrington hurt/comfort #steve harrington whump #steve harrington hc #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #i can't believe there's not a tag for bitchy steve harrington #no upside down au

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico is going to be smote by Hades.

As he trudges through the muddy lake water, seething, he weighs each elaborated murder he has planned for each member of Cabin Eleven against how harshly Hermes will punish him for it. Connor will be flayed alive. Travis will be cooked over an open flame. Julia will be strapped to a rocket and blasted into the sun. Alice will face death by a thousand paper cuts.

And Cecil.

Fucking Cecil.

Cecil Markowitz will face a death so tortuous and harrowing that the constraints of the crime cannot be adequately covered in any mortal tongue. Crucified is too light a term. Nico is going to kill him in a way that is unspeakable — to hell with Hermes and his wrath. Nico is going to smite his dumbass children himself, and it will be worth it.

His boyfriend waits for him, lips pressed together and eyes trained to the sky, on the dock, holding several towels.

“Say nothing,” Nico hisses, slamming his sword on the wood and dragging himself up after it.

“Wasn’t going to,” Will lies. He immediately begins to cough, face turning slightly red. “Well, if I were to say anything —”

“William,” Nico warns.

“I just mean to say,” he soldiers on, setting all but one of the towels down, “that you look —”

He cuts himself off with a quickly smothered giggle.

“I swear to all that is fucking holy, Son of Phoebus.”

He lets Will maneuver him about, towel turning almost black with all the mud it’s absorbing off Nico’s clothes. He has to move on to another towel once he’s finished just Nico’s arm, dripping the soaked towel with a wet plop.

“It’s not that bad.”

Nico stares at him, deadpan. In fact he has to swipe pond scum out of his eyes and hair to glare properly.

“I am the fucking Creature of the Black Lagoon, Solace.”

Will bites his lip, hard. A burst of laughter escapes anyway, heedless of his desperate attempt to smother it, and the worst part is that it’s gorgeous and it makes his eyes light up and his stupid face looks stupid divine, when he’s giggly about something, and it makes Nico want to crush him a little. In the facial region, with his own face.

Except his own face is covered in stinky lake mud.

And Will is laughing.

Hard.

“I mean,” he manages around giggles, holding up a new towel to dab at Nico’s face, “it brings out your eyes, honestly.”

Nico closes his eyes. He lets that sit for a moment. He exhales for ten solid seconds.

“William Andrew.”

“It does! I mean, it’s really the perfect shade —”

“Romance is actually, genuinely dead.”

“— makes them look very deep, actually —”

“I should’ve listened to Demeter and married a doctor.”

“— and lake mud has so many uses! Most of the microbes on you are excellent for the skin. Who wouldn’t want to be compared to lake mud?”

“Oh wait! That is useless advice.”

“And you didn’t even pick up any leeches! Just all this dark, beautiful lake mud, as brown and beautiful as your eyes —”

“I’m returning you to whatever lab you were created in. Obviously you’re defective and I want a new model.”

“— in fact I’ll write a haiku about it.” He clears his throat. “My boyfriend is so hot —”

“Enough,” Nico interrupts, slapping his semi-clean hand over Will’s motormouth before things get any worse. Unfortunately the mud still caked into the lines of his skin contrasts beautifully with Will’s sparkling eyes, making them even bluer somehow. That’s a felony. “Also, that’s six syllables, dumbass.”

“I’ll revise,” he shoots back, muffled.

“If you promise not to, I’ll move my hand.”

Will presses a kiss to his palm because he’s a sappy loser who knows exactly what he does for Nico’s heart problems, based on the wiggle of his stupid perfect eyebrows.

“Deal.”

Nico removes his hand slowly. He lifts it back up when Will opens his mouth, threatening, but luckily he changes course before Nico has to make good on the threat, leaning down to kiss Nico softly, properly.

“I’m crucifying your best friend,” he mumbles against his lips. “That is step one of a ten step torture process.”

“‘Kay.”

“His siblings, too.”

“Sounds good.”

“Hermes might grind me to dust, after.”

“Trying really, really hard to focus on something right now, babe.”

“Right,” Nico breathes. There is still mud drying onto him and it is the Worst, actually, and he still has several homicides to play out, but.

But.

He can spend a little time kissing his boyfriend first.

(As long as that will keep him from spouting any more damn haikus.)

#dramatic nico my beloved #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #solangelo #established solangelo #fluff and humour #dramatic nico di angelo #flirting #my writing #fic #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #longpost

[jolyfics]

This is my first time requesting something uggghh I'm nervous.

Anyways, I think it would be so cute if your wrote how the jojos would confess to their crushes!

i love the way you write so ik you'll do them justice

𝙞 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪

𝘫𝘰𝘫𝘰𝘴 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

summary: how the jojos confess

notes: THIS TOOK SO LONG MY HAND FELL ASLEEP 😭😭 but really i hope you enjoy it!! i swear i wasn’t being that lazy over easter break

jonathan joestar

i feel like jonathan is the most romantic out of all the jojos

he’d definitely bring you some place nice

like a tree on a hill during sunset

he’d also make it a picnic

after you two talk for a good bit is when he’d speak up

if you agree to his confession he’d let out a sigh of relief, as well as a big grin

6pm, he told you to meet you by the tree where you usually hang out, you adored that tree, it was rural. once you arrived you noticed he was there before you, sitting underneath the tree with a cute little picnic basket beside him. you sat down to his left, he took out some sandwiches you assumed he made and the two of you began eating, quickly falling into your usual banter.

after awhile, he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him with confusion. “i.. have something i wish to tell you.” he spoke up, he sounded nervous, you had never heard him sound like that before. you perked up, signalling for him to continue. “i have feelings for you, (name). and i hope you’d accept them” you could feel your cheeks heat up, which caused his to do the same.

you nodded, “i do, jojo!” he grinned, a sigh escaping him as relief washed over his entire body. he placed his hand atop of yours, as you both gave eachother an adoring look

joseph joestar

joseph’s a smartass

it definitely starts with him teasing you

then when you ask him why he likes teasing you specifically is when he shuts up

he admits it quite casually

like its nothing

leaving you quite flustered

“c’mon, cutie! give me a smile!” he smirked, he adored the way your eyebrows looked as they furrowed when he spoke. he loved the way your face turned the slightest shade of red and how you tried to hide how he actually got a reaction out of you. he loved it all. “shut up, jojo!” you scoffed, trying to hide the blush that crept up onto your face

“why do you always tease me? why not suzie q?!” you spoke up, you weren’t angry, just genuinely confused. did he like seeing you so angry? he then playfully rolled his eyes. “because i love seeing that look on your face! i mean, who wouldn’t? you’re gorgeous yknow?” you scoffed once more before crossing your arms

“it’s because i love you, (name)! and i know you can’t resist me” he grinned, his usual stupid grin. you looked back over at him. it seemed he was waiting for you to say something to him, instead you placed a small kiss on his cheek. that seemed to finally shut him up

jotaro kujo

it honestly depends on which jotaro

part 3 jotaro isn’t the kinda guy to confess his feelings to you

he’d just hope and pray you had that confidence to speak up first

if you don’t though, and the feeling is getting too much for him to handle he’d trap you in a hotel room and force you to listen to him

very rare to hear more than a few words with him, let alone hear what he FEELS

you sat on the hotel bed, reading a cheap magazine you found in one of the drawers in the bedside table. you were sharing a room with jotaro, you only really shared with him or kakyoin, since you three were the only teenagers with the group. jotaro had just gotten back from being in the bathroom, he sat on the bed to your right.

“(name).” he spoke, his voice soft, yet still with the usual firmness that usually has a grasp over him. you looked over to him, closing the magazine over and placing it beside you on the bed. “yes, jotaro?” he paused, the air seemed different. not the usual feeling you had while rooming with him.

“you’re.. not awful.” his voice was now that of a mumble, as he used the brim of his hat to cover his face. at first you were confused, until it hit you, he was trying to tell you how he felt about you. he just couldn’t get the right words out of his mouth

josuke higashikata (4)

josukes confession is probably the most fun out of them all.

i feel like he’d take you somewhere fun like bowling

you’d be kicking his ass at it

and once you finished up your game and we’re walking home

thats when he’d tell you

and if its cold he might even lend you his coat

you shivered as the two of you walked home after a long day of bowling. you two played about 4 rounds, you won 3/4 of those games, which you were quite proud of. you felt something heavy land across your shoulders, you looked down. josukes coat? you then turned your gaze to him, he seemed to be looking in the opposite direction of you

“thanks, josuke” you spoke up, getting rid of the silence between you too. he hummed, kicking a rock as he walked. “hey, uhh” he paused before speaking up once more. “i gotta tell you something, and don’t get angry at me for saying this!” you chuckled at that, you couldn’t get angry at him

“i.. think i might like you. thats a lie. i know i like you” you pulled his coat closer around you as you grinned, this day seemed to be getting better and better..

giorno giovanna

giorno definitely took you to a fancy restaurant

he is the don, he has that kind of money

he’d probably buy you something fancy too.

he’d just say it outright, like it was something he said everyday

you two sat across from eachother at the fancy restaurant, both of you in your fanciest attire. you two stared at a menu, deciding what to get before the waiter arrived, notebook and pen in hand. once you ordered, and the waiter was gone, giorno looked over at you. he pulled out a tiny box placing it on the table and sliding it over to you

“giorno, no” “i insist, (name)” he interrupted. you sighed, picking up the box and opening it. a necklace lay inside, laced with what you could only assume were real diamonds. you looked up to him in shock. “giorno, i can’t take this..” he shook his head

“you must, you’re the only person i’d want to spend this kind of money on, so please. let me buy you things from now on” he gave a small, meaningful smile towards you, which only made you smile. you took the necklace out of the box, placing it around your neck. “you look stunning, mí amore”

jolyne cujoh

okay. we all know how lesbians are

she’d definitely confess buy playing a song for you, then saying that it reminds her of you

you two would just be in her bedroom

and she’d suggest listening to music

then she’d play the song and say it reminds her of you two

you two sat on jolynes bed, you’d been friends for years, so long in fact, you two had began to develop feelings for eachother. even though everyone around the two of you knew, you two didn’t. “hey.. let’s listen to some music!” jolyne suggested, you nodded. that could be fun, you always enjoyed her music

she grinned, standing up from the bed and heading towards her cd collection. she picked one up, then placed it into the cd player. it took a few seconds for the song to boot up but once it began she then hurried back over to sit beside you in her bed. “what song is it?” you asked, she only grinned at you. “you’ll see”

as the song began to play, it seemed like something jolyne never would’ve usually listened to. you began to recognise the song as time went on, ‘this kiss, by faith hill’ as you began to wonder why she picked this song, she spoke up. “this song, reminds me of us..” her face was slightly red as she spoke

Johnny Joestar

johnny and you were put on a ranch

yous were just together tending to your horses

it was silent, peaceful

that’s when johnny would admit to having feelings for you

it definitely took him awhile to do that

he’s not the most open when it comes to how he feels

you fed your horse, johnny stood beside you, doing the exact same to slow dancer, his horse. it was comfortable, you two enjoyed eachothers company and the silence between you wasn’t awkward in the slightest, at least for you anyways.

johnny was busy thinking about you, he wanted to tell you how he felt, he knew he owed it to you to be honest, but it was just scary. he was afraid of rejection from you. even though he knew deep, deep down that you most likely liked him too

“hey.. (name)?” he finally spoke up, he felt as if his heart was in his throat. you turned to look at him, giving him a hum to continue. “i just wanted to say that i.. like ya, i have for awhile now. i just.. wanted ya to know” he looked away, embarrassed

josuke higashikata (8)

josuke just blurts it out

like its NOTHING

he doesn’t get social cues tbh

it leaves you shocked

like really shocked

you two were probably just sitting in a part when he just says it

you sat on the park bench with josuke, you both had gotten an ice cream, it was a very warm day in morioh, so ice cream was the only solution the two of you had. as you both sat, enjoying your ice cream, you looked over to josuke, who seemed to be enjoying his delicious sweet treat

“isn’t this nice, josuke?” you spoke up, he only nodded enthusiastically, continuing to lick the cone. you chuckled at him, giving him a smile. which seemed to make him stop eating? he stared at you, in an almost creepy way. you’d be creeped out if you didn’t know him

“i’m in love with you” he says, before going back to his ice cream. you stared at him, in shock. “what?” you gave him a confused look, where you dreaming? hallucinating even? did he really just say that to you?

#jjba #jjba x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojos bizarre adventure x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure x reader #jojos x reader #jjba stone ocean #johnathan joestar x reader #joseph joestar x reader #jotaro kujo x reader #jotaro x reader #josuke higashikata x reader #giorno giovana x reader #jolyne cujoh x reader #jolyne x reader #johnny joestar x reader #gappy higashikata x reader #phantom blood x reader #battle tendency x reader #stardust crusaders x reader #diamond is unbreakable x reader #vento aureo x reader #steel ball run x reader #jojolion x reader #jonathan joestar #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #josuke higashikata #giorno giovanna

[uhhhitsgray]

fic where astarion puts lipstick on u? ☺️ I feel like that could be super intimate

aksjdhfakdhf, anon please 😭 this is so cute, yes yes I write c:

~ wc: 2k, no warnings, this is just fluffy and cute. tav and astarion are already in a relationship. attempted to make this as gender neutral as possible, but I did throw in a few pretties (since astarion does say that in the game), a few darlings and he calls you gorgeous. astarion would call you all those things regardless of gender so I hope you're okay with that ❤ enjoy & and thank you for the prompt, this was a lot of fun!

You sigh as you look down at the metal tube in your hands defeated with the fact that you don’t think, or even know, how to properly apply lipstick. Up until arriving at Baldur’s Gate you never had the need to dress nicely. Of course your clothing choice was much more than just clothing, it was armor meant for protecting and not so much for looking good.

You had found this small shop on the outskirts of the city one evening. It didn’t cost a lot of gold, and you wanted to treat yourself. Though maybe you should have gone with something you were more familiar with instead, but you wanted to feel attractive; pretty even.

It was a peaceful evening at camp, the day hadn’t been taxing on the group luckily, just a few pesky thieves but nothing else major happened. Your tent was further away from the center of camp where the others were, you enjoyed the solitude that it provided giving your mind and body an opportunity to just breathe and relax. By the gods, you’d take that chance any time it arose. 

You had snuck away from the group while everyone was laughing and talking over the wine from the city. You so desperately wanted to try out this lipstick, but after several attempts and every pass looking worse than the previous your shoulders slumped in defeat, a heavy sigh leaving your lips. You could also ask someone in camp, maybe Shadowheart or Isobel would know. You remember them both stating they’ve worn makeup before, shit, Isobel currently wears makeup. 

But admittedly you didn’t have that type of relationship with them. Of course you were fond of them, friends even, but close enough to ask for something like this? You weren’t sure you were that comfortable with them. Truth be told, you were only close with one person like that in your camp, the pale elf himself, Astarion. An odd person to ask possibly, has he ever worn makeup before – or lipstick even? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t sure if you even cared. 

He’d help you right?   

You shove the tube into your pocket, and head towards the campfire where you left him with the group. The light of the fire danced across his skin, washing warm hues across his pale skin. His rather white hair was highlighted in reds and oranges, his red irises reflecting the vermillion shades of the flames. He was laughing at something Gale was sputtering on about, a genuine smile on his face.

Truly beautiful. 

You step into the light of the fire, one arm crossed across your chest holding yourself close. Caging yourself off as if you’re too afraid to ask such a simple question from the man you adore. “Astarion.” 

Astarion’s attention is ripped away from Gale at the drop of his name, his name sounding like honey on your lips. He’d never get used to it. Warmth blossoms within his chest at the sight of you on the other side of the fire, “Yes, darling.” He smiles towards you, scooting himself over on the log he was sitting on, patting the wood for you to sit next to him. 

You smile at him, and make your way around the side of the fire, offering a small wave to the few people who were still at the campfire. You cross behind Astarion’s back, hand dragging across his shoulders. You lean down behind him, fingers dancing up the back of his neck into his hair. “Can I ask something of you, my love?” 

He leans back into your hand slightly still facing the fire as he answers. “Anything.” 

You kiss his cheek, it’s short and quick as your words mumble and stumble out of your mouth. “Can I ask you away from everyone else?” 

His body stiffens slightly, “Is everything okay?” Astarion turns towards you, his tone shifts in his question. Worry, and something similar to dread fills his eyes as he looks into yours. “Did… did I do something?” 

You offer him a soft smile, “Everything is fine.” You cup his cheek in the palm of your hand, thumb brushing across his fire warmed skin. “You didn’t do anything.” 

He swallows down the worry and dread as he leans into your palm. Astarion nods up at you, “Okay, darling. Where do you want to go?” 

You look past the fire in the direction of your tent, “Is my tent okay?” 

Astarion nods, standing up next to you. “Lead the way.” 

The fact that you wanted to ask Astarion to put lipstick on you was plaguing your mind. You were sure you were making this a bigger deal than it really was, it wasn’t that big of a deal to begin with. But by the gods, your mind was telling you that it was the absolutely worst thing that you could ask of this man. 

You slowly lead him back to your tent, your hand in his. The warmth of the fire still lingering on his skin, the cool evening breeze bringing a yin and yang sensation. “Now, darling, I’m dying to know what you wanted to ask.” 

You were second guessing yourself as you pulled the front of your tent open and allowed him and yourself to walk in. You take a deep breath, “I… I — uh.” You shake your head and take a few steps further into your tent. 

Astarion squeezes your hand, “You can ask me anything, you know that.” 

You sigh, letting go of his hand as you drag your fingers through your hair. “I know.” You look at him, the crimson irises carefully watching you. You start pacing the length of your tent. It’s not big by any means, just enough room for your bed roll, a small table and stool. But you were gonna pace it as much as you could, as much as the space would allow; trying as best as you could to allow your mind some room to think of the question at hand. 

“Darling.” 

You were biting your nails as you heard Astarion call for you. Your eyes search his, uncertainty lays heavy on your expression. “You can’t laugh at me, okay?” 

Astarion chuckles at that. You sweet, precious thing of his, he could never. “I wouldn’t dare laugh at you like that.”  

You nod, looking at the floor again. “So I uh – I bought something in the city the other day and I need help putting it on.” 

He raises an eyebrow to you, crossing his arms at his chest. “And what did you buy?” 

You stuff your hand into your pocket and pull out the metal tube, palm side up showing Astarion. Your eyes burn holes into your palm, embarrassment flushes your cheeks red. How stupid is this. 

You hear Astarion stepping forward, into your space. “Lipstick?” 

Your eyes dare to look at him, too scared to see the expression he has on his face. “Yeah, I don’t know how to properly apply it. I was trying earlier, but it kept looking all wrong and bad and Astarion, I just wanted to look pretty.” Your words come out of your mouth a little too quick, not giving your brain enough time to process before speaking. 

Astarion cups your cheek this time, a playful tone to his soft voice. “Oh darling,” He leans in and kisses your forehead. “You are always beautiful.” 

Your arms cross, pouting. “But I wanted to feel pretty.” Your eyes darted up to him for a second before they found the floor, “Wanted to be pretty for you.” 

“There isn’t a day where I don’t think you’re the most stunning person I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He grabs the metal tube from your hand. “But I can put this on for you, if you so wish.” 

You smile at him, “Please.” 

He nods towards your stool, silently asking you to sit down. Your feet take you to the stool and you sit yourself down as Astarion opens the lid, a smile spreads on his face as he sees the color you purchased. It’s nothing flashy, a more mutual tone. Probably to not draw too much attention to yourself if he was to guess. “This color will look so pretty on those lips of yours.” 

“You think so?” 

Astarion steps in between your legs. One hand holds your chin, urging your head upwards so he can see you better. The other hand holds the lipstick carefully, twisted up just enough to be easily applied to your lips. “I know so.” 

Your hands land on the outside of his thighs, just holding his pants as you carefully watch him. His eyes flit to yours and linger for a second longer. “Don’t look at me like that, darling.” 

You smile at him, teasing, “Like what?” 

“Like you want to kiss me.” Crimson eyes drift down to your lips. 

“I always want to kiss you. Always want your lips on me, want them everywhere –.” 

Astarion squeezes your chin, “Behave yourself, sweetheart.” 

You giggle, smiling at him sweetly. “I always behave for you.” 

He cocks an eyebrow to you, a smile plays across his face, fangs exposed slightly in the light of your tent. “I would have to disagree.” His hand moves in slowly, carefully, as he presses the lipstick to your lips. Your eyes are locked onto his, though he isn’t looking at you anymore, you can’t help but just watch him in concentration. Trying his best, giving his best to you. 

He smiles as he pulls the lipstick away from your lips. “Gorgeous. This color suits you, darling.” He grabs your small mirror off the table next to you, flipping the mirror around for yourself to see. 

Your eyes widen at how well it’s applied, like he’s done it a million times. You move the mirror around better to see his work. Astarion was right, the color does suit your skin tone just perfectly. “Thank you Astarion. I – wow. Just how are you so skilled?” 

“Oh,” His eyes fall to the floor, you see his body freeze beyond your mirror as dread fills the pit of your stomach. 

Shit. 

You put the mirror face down on the table, standing quickly as horror washes over your face. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m sorry.”

Astarion shakes his head, and continues anyway. “I used to wear it to lure victims back to Cazador.” His voice is low, hurt as the words are hushed out. 

“I… I didn’t know that, I’m sorry for asking this of you.” 

“I didn’t expect you to, I’ve never told you that.” He shrugs his shoulders. 

“You didn’t have to.” Your nail digs into the palm of your hand, you feel horrible for asking such a thing. If you knew you would have never asked. 

Astarion’s hand reaches out for yours, fingers intertwined with yours. “I’d do anything for you, my love. It was in the past, the future will be better. Even the now is better.” 

You smile at him, "And I'd do anything for you. One day at a time, my love." You giggle, pressing up on your tiptoes as you kiss his cheek. You grin at the mark the lipstick left on his cheek. He laughs knowing you've left a mark on his cheek. "I love you, thank you Astarion." You kiss his lips soft and delicate, sure to be careful not to mess up his work. 

"I love you too, gorgeous. Shall we show our friends?" He takes your hand as the other opens your tent up, awaiting for you to follow him. 

You smile, “What about the mark on your cheek, you want to wipe it off before we go?”

Astarion laughs as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you close. “I’d wear any mark from you proudly, I’ll leave it.” His hand wraps around the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss. It’s warm, soft and caring; you’ll never get used to it. Or him for that matter. 

Your thumb brushes across his cheek, as you pull away from the kiss. You smile as his lips are slightly tinted the shade of your lipstick. “Alright, let’s go then.”

#astarion bg3 #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #this dumb pointy eared vampire has me in a chokehold #this prompt was so fucking cute i screamed when i saw it #thank you for asking for this #i appreciate you sm

[jacqlovesxiao]

It’s Xiao’s first time, teach him, will you?

It’s Xiao’s turn this time!! Smut ofc (nervous, virgin Xiao, praise kink, begging, desperate, Xiao sheds a bit of tears bc of how good it feels lol, a bit of a switch!xiao, but mainly sub!xiao, dom!female!reader, riding position, nipple play, biting and sucking)

You are Xiao’s lover, getting him to open up to you after knowing him better. You’ve been dating him for a few years now and although Xiao is usually busy with his duties in protecting Liyue, he still tries to make time for you. However, for this particular night, you wanted a change. A change in more intimacy… But Xiao, having spent most of his life battling for centuries, has no idea about intimacy. So teach him, will you?

You’re currently lying on the bed completely naked, Xiao’s cheeks flushing up at the sight of your gorgeous body. It’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before, it was just that he wasn’t used to it. Xiao didn’t know what to do, placing his hands on your hips and rubbing the soft flesh gently.

“Uh, my dear, is this okay? Do you want me to stop? Do you feel cold? You’re completely unclothed after all… If you’re feeling uncomfortable or want to stop, please do not hesitate to tell me immediately.” Xiao said as he bombarded you with questions, his voice laced with concern and anxiety. It was clear that he was very nervous, having intimacy was new to him and this was his first time, but for you, he was willing to try.

Xiao continued to hold onto your hips, but his grip was very gentle. Too gentle even, as if you were some fragile glass that would break if he didn’t handle you properly. Xiao was afraid of hurting you, especially knowing that he had his own karmic debt, so he didn’t know if he was capable of feeling and indulging in intimacy. Hah… It would be a miracle once he degraded you.

“Xiao, really, I’m completely fine… This is the third time I’m repeating myself, I’m not fragile. I can handle myself, it’s okay. Do you want me to take over? This is just apart of intimacy after all, it’s raw and unadulterated.” You reassured him and couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. You were willing to teach him about intimacy, but you had never seen him so nervous before, so you couldn’t resist poking fun at him a little. “I didn’t think you’d be so nervous about this, aren’t you supposed to be strong? But you can start by stripping too, you know.”

You giggled softly, but your lips curved into a genuine smile, you knew how concerned Xiao could be about you. Having lost friends in his past, you were the last person he wanted to lose as well. He didn’t know what he’d do with himself if he hurt you, even if accidentally. Yet, you also wanted Xiao to take a leap of faith, to trust you. You were determined to make his first time special and leave him breathless by the end of the night. Though, it’d be a miracle if Xiao managed to degrade you, he was too sweet and gentle inside for that.

Xiao's brows furrowed slightly at your teasing, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. He wasn't used to being the one in such vulnerable positions, both physically and emotionally. But he trusted you, and he knew that you wouldn't lead him astray. "I... I suppose you're right," Xiao mumbled, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and determination. He took a deep breath, gathering his resolve, and slowly began to remove his clothes. His movements were deliberate, careful, as if he was afraid of tearing the fabric. But soon enough, he stood before you, completely naked.

Xiao’s body, toned and lean from centuries of training, revealed itself to you. His pale skin was marred with scars, remnants of countless battles fought. The intricate golden tattoos on his arms and chest seemed to shimmer under the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the window. Xiao's eyes never left your face as he approached you, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. He tentatively reached out, his hands trembling slightly, and cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.

"My dear, I... I trust you," he whispered, his voice husky with longing. "Teach me... show me what it means to be intimate with you." With those words, Xiao leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss. His touch was feather-light, as if he was afraid of overwhelming you. But as your lips moved together, a spark ignited within him, and his kisses grew bolder, more passionate.

Xiao's kisses descended from your lips to your neck, his teeth grazing lightly against your sensitive skin. He inhaled your scent, a heady mix of desire and anticipation, and it fueled the fire burning within him. His hands moved to cup your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples, eliciting soft moans from your lips. His voice, usually so controlled and composed, was now laced with a raw hunger as he whispered in your ear, "You're so beautiful, love. I want you to dominate me, to show me the control and power you have over me. Can you do that, dear? Please?” Xiao's words hung in the air, his eyes that were filled with desperation and need locked onto yours, waiting for your response. He was ready to explore the depths of intimacy with you, to lose himself in the sensations that awaited the both of you. And of course, seeing your boyfriend beg so sweetly like that, who were you to decline?

You smiled and nodded, guiding Xiao to lay on the bed first. As he complied, you crawled on top of him and positioned yourself onto his lap, your eyes filled with hunger and desire. You captured his lips into a passionate kiss first, your hands roaming over Xiao’s bare body. Your touch was featherlight, your fingers tracing Xiao’s permanent, old scars and the tattoos that adorned his arm and shoulder. In your eyes, Xiao would always be perfect, scars or tattoos or not. You broke the kiss, your lips trailing down to Xiao’s neck. You left kisses and nips, marking him. Your breasts pressed against his chest, Xiao could feel the softness of them and your hardened nipples. His erection, hard and the tip leaking with pre-cum, brushed against your wet folds. You teased him, not completely taking him all the way, but making him beg for it first. You could feel Xiao’s hands on your hips, the way his breath hitched, the room filling with his sounds of pleasure, along with your connection.

Xiao's breath hitched as your lips left a trail of kisses and nips along his neck, marking him as your own. He could feel your breasts pressing against his chest, the softness and warmth of them sending shivers down his spine. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip possessive yet gentle, as he eagerly sought more of her touch. His erection throbbed against your wet folds, the sensation driving him to the brink of madness. He groaned, a mixture of pleasure and frustration escaping his lips, as you teased him, not fully taking him in. Each movement, each brush of your bodies, intensified the desire pooling within him, igniting a fire that threatened to consume the both of you.

"Love, please," he pleaded, his voice husky with need. "I need you... I need to feel you around me, to be inside you. Don't make me wait any longer." With a sense of urgency, Xiao's hands moved from your hips to your thighs, guiding you down onto him. He groaned as he felt the tightness of your entrance, the way you stretched around him, accommodating his size. Slowly, you sank down, taking him deeper with each inch, until he was fully sheathed within your tight pussy. A wave of pleasure washed over Xiao, his head falling back as he lost himself in the sensations. He could feel the heat of your core, the way your walls pulsed around him, gripping him in a delicious embrace. He couldn't help but moan, the sounds of pleasure filling the room.

With a rhythm that matched the beating of your hearts, Xiao's hips began to move, thrusting upwards to meet your downward movements. The friction between the two of you was electrifying, every thrust pushing you two closer to the edge of ecstasy. His hands roamed over your body, his touch growing more possessive, as he sought to claim every inch of you. Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, a dance of passion and desire. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, Xiao’s whimpers and the intoxicating scent of arousal. Time seemed to lose all meaning as the two of you lost yourselves in the pleasure, bodies and souls intertwining in a moment of pure bliss.

“Oh, faster, please. Ride me harder, my dear. Mark me as yours.” Xiao pleaded desperately, his voice cracking between his moans. And who were you to deny him? Slamming down on him, you did a particularly powerful thrust that sent his tip kissing your cervix, causing Xiao to gasp and cry out your name. His grip on your hips was so tight it was sure to leave a few marks and bruises here and there, but he was too lost in the pleasure to care. Sniffing, a few drops of tears started to stream down Xiao’s cheeks, a reminder of the overwhelming pleasure he was feeling right now. All those thousands of years of training, he’s never felt this much pleasure before. He always thought he’d just become nothing but a weapon for combat and that trainings were necessary, yet there has always been an empty, lonely void in his heart. And you managed to fill it.

“Shh, oh, you pretty boy. Don’t cry…” You coo, almost tauntingly, before kissing away Xiao’s tears. Breathing heavily, Xiao decided to turn the tables a little and fight for dominance. Pulling you impossibly closer, his mouth latched onto one of your hardened nipples, one of his hands moving to fondle your other breast, rolling the hardened nipple between his thumb. You moan desperately, arching your back and throwing your head back to expose your neck. Xiao releases your nipple with a pop, taking this chance to suck and bite on your neck, leaving marks that will surely last for days, but also remind you that you’re his. His hands moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing your cheeks gently. He liked the way they jiggled under his touch and against his pelvis.

“Do you like that, my dear? Oh, love, I can’t hold back anymore. I-I’m gonna cum, ah… Cumming-!” Xiao gasped and gets cut off by his orgasm, hot strings of his cum splurting deep into your womb. You moan out his name loudly, your orgasm crashing into you too as your coat Xiao’s cock with your cum. After a few heavy breaths, you collapse onto Xiao’s chest, having him hold you tightly. Stroking your head gently, he kisses your forehead. Xiao doesn’t know much about aftercare, but he’ll do his best. He continues to thrust gently, making sure to prolong your orgasm as long as possible before gently pulling out, his cock spent with your juices as his cum leaked out from your pussy.

“That was… amazing. Thank you, love, for showing me what true pleasure really feels like. I-I love you, so much.” Xiao remarked, his voice laced with affection and relief. “I love you too…” You replied back in a murmur before drifting off into a peaceful sleep on him. “I’ll clean you up tomorrow, promise.” Xiao muttered softly to your sleeping form before cuddling you, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep with you too.

————-THE END————

Jacq’s note: I’m back with a Xiao fanfic this time ;)) I don’t really have much to say lol except thank u sm for the support on my previous scara one on the Ferris wheel and thanks for reading till the end, until then <3

#genshin impact #dom!reader #sub!character #genshin xiao #xiao x reader #xiao smut #xiao x reader smut

[renxholics]

❝ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ! ❞

ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ❝ 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! ❞

﹟azul : jade : floyd : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. soft blurbs of calling them pretty, because they are your pretty boy. established relationship. absolutely not proofread.

༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐋 𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐎.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ straddling the waist of your beloved octomer boyfriend, you couldn’t help but stare at his face, admiring every bit of it. his gorgeous eyes, his hair tickling his face, his kissable lips with his little beauty mark, all of it were beautiful to you. as he gulped under your gaze, you could imagine his mind worriedly racing with thoughts, assuming untrue and foolish self-loathing things about himself again. “you’re my pretty boy, please don’t think so little of yourself, Azul,” you hummed, smiling gently at him as he lets out a cough, unsure if he had heard you correctly. “what?” he squeaked out, cheeks adorning a red shade as he tries to look you in the eyes but finds himself gazing at the floor. a part of him hoped his misheard you, but the other much more selfish part of him hoped what he heard was right, and was the genuine truth. “pretty boy,” you repeat again, a little louder this time while brushing his hair behind his ear as you press your forehead against his, fingers tracing his bottom lip as he parts it slightly, his cheeks burning even hotter than before as his eyes meet your’s again. too close, he thinks, even if the two of you were dating what gave you the right to fluster him and make him feel so special? “you’re so pretty i wonder how you don’t get it. i guess i’ll have to make you realize it myself.” before he could respond to your praise, he finds his fingers in your hair as the two of you close your eyes, exchanging many kisses.

༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ “you’re so pretty when you smile like that, especially when you show me your teeth,” you uttered out, fork digging into your pasta as you twirled it, “i also love the way your eyes light up when you talk about what you love,” you continued, blowing on it as your boyfriend paused mid sentence by your sudden comment, staring at you wide eyed and mouth agape. swallowing your bite, you look up to see for the very first time a genuine look of shock on Jade’s face, startled by your choice of words. “are you alright, Jade?” You asked as he regained his usual composure. “i am quite alright. it’s just you never seem to fail to amuse me no matter how much time passes,” he replied as you laugh a little, putting your cutlery down and wiping your lips with a napkin before getting up from your seat, choosing to move into his arms as you wrap your hands around his neck. “neither do you,” you hummed, giving him a kiss right underneath his eye as you rub your thumb across his cheek. “you’re such a pretty boy, my pretty boy. i’m so lucky to have you and to be able to listen to you talk about what you love.” with zero hesitation, one of his hands captured your free one, the other against the crevice of your back pulling you closer to him, lips meeting your’s in a slow and passionate kiss. truly, no one but you could make him feel like this, prefect.

༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ it only took a few seconds of entering monstro lounge for you to find yourself tackled into a huge hug by your boyfriend, him peppering kisses all over your face with little giggles, whining over how much he missed you since classes. “i’ve missed you too my pretty boy.” you cooed, squishing his cheeks between your fingers. the second what you said registered with him Floyd’s eyes lit up, nuzzling his face further into your palms as he squished you against him harder, eyes staring at you expectantly. “aww, does my pretty boy want more affection?” you ask teasingly, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose and then onto his lips, deepening it before remembering just where you were. as soon as you pulled back your boyfriend’s eyes narrowed as though betrayed you’d suddenly stop as a pout formed on his lips. “i’ll give you all the kisses you want when your shift is done, alright?” you console him as he perks back up, grinning at you. “you better keep your word or i’ll squeeze you tight, shrimpy! remember, i’m your pretty boy.” he proudly said, dragging you to a table in his section where he could watch you sit and inevitably join you after ditching his shift.

@𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐗𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐒 : no plagiarizing, reposting, or claiming as your’s.

following channels [tag list] : @h0n3ysgh0st : didn’t really have much time to write recently last month, sorry! here’s a quick update post while im working on the bigger ones! i haven’t written in awhile so i needed a proper warm-up!

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland x reader #twst azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul #twst jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland floyd #twst floyd x reader #twst floyd leech #twst jade leech #twst azul ashengrotto #༘˚₊➳❥ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.✉️ ͙۪۪˚┊

[ghost-proofbaby]

you showed me colors (eddie munson x fem!reader)

"YOU SHOWED ME COLORS YOU KNOW I CAN'T SEE WITH ANYONE ELSE."

summary: the soulmate au based on "illicit affairs" by taylor swift that almost no one asked for.

warnings: ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, strategic use of pet names, allusions to sex but none described, reader is referred to as a girl a few times, no use of Y/N, canon compliant. not really edited (cause i'm not putting myself through this shit again).

wc: 15.1k+

a/n: im genuinely sorry for once. blame @abibliophobiaa and @breddiemunson for this. also, thank you @hellfire--cult for helping me with the header!!! please take all those warnings very seriously. please. (also shout out to ash who got her own divider sort of so she'd know when to stop reading because my baby doesn't like angst 😅)

The first thirteen years of your life, you only had second hand accounts to trust when it came to colors. 

The sky is blue, soft and dreamy, nearly translucent until grey wisps of clouds would overrun it on stormy days (although, the clouds, you could make out). Most grass is green, verdant and rich as it sprouts from the hard dirt. Even the yellowing strands are most likely gorgeous, a sign of life and death, a sign that someone once stood atop the green and held their ground. Roses come in a rainbow of shades, but everyone seems to adore the staunch red ones the best. The plush pink of a lover’s kiss-bitten lips, the warm brown fur of the dogs you passed by on the street, the deep violet of the plums your mother proclaimed as her favorite fruit. A range of colors you had only ever heard of, never experienced yourself. 

For thirteen years, all you had was stories. Nothing tangible, nothing solid in your palms. Mere crumbs of a promise of what you would have one day, when you met your soulmate.

When you met him. 

It wasn’t the most pleasant of circumstances in which you two met. You’d spent a lot of your childhood fascinated with the concept and lost in daydreams about it – maybe they’d be a stranger you caught the eye of on the train, or maybe they’d be the one making your coffee at a quaint cafe in a big city someday. Whoever they would be, you wanted them to be made of all the fairytales. You wanted a meeting to challenge every romantic story you’d been fed through your youth, you wanted a love that would shake the very Earth you wandered from the first time your eyes met theirs. 

Your reality seemed as far from earth-quake inducing as they could get, at the time. Looking back, though, you wish you could plead and change your youthful mind. Because the day wasn’t perfect, the situation was terrible shades of melancholy, but none of that really matters; what matters is that on that sunny Wednesday afternoon, you met him. 

Scraped knees. You had scraped knees, sitting embarrassed and frazzled beneath a tree as you tried to sink into the shade surrounding its base and erase the memory of what had just transpired. You could still hear all the other kids’ taunts echoing through your mind, cruel and unnecessary words that were suited to follow you the rest of your days. Comments on your looks and teases of things you couldn’t change. Seeds of insecurity that were hard to swallow at the beginning of your teen youth. 

You were still picking at the edges of your open wounds with slow drying tears still coating your cheeks when his shadow joined the tree’s. 

“Are you alright?” 

You looked up immediately to find a boy standing there. Your eyes had traveled slowly, taking in his baggy jeans with patchwork knees and his oversized faded t-shirt first. Even with the hand-me-down clothes, you could recognize his gangly limbs beneath it all. A frail frame and hunger-panged face. An overgrown buzz cut, no doubt prickly as the hairs stood to attention. Sunken in eyes brimming with concern for you. Whatever shade they were, they had to be dark; they were nearly black in the shades of grey your eyes could currently pick up on.

The thing about soulmates, is the colors don’t happen until you touch your soulmate. 

“I’m fine,” you stubbornly replied, wrapping your arms around your shins and tucking your knees beneath your chin despite the sting. 

“You don’t look fine.”

“Then stop looking.” 

He threw his hands up defensively, shrugging a bony shoulder, “Sorry.” 

He wasn’t sorry. Even with the wince that graced his face, he wasn’t sorry for checking in on you. You knew it the moment you caught the broken skin on his knuckles, nearly matching the cuts on your knees. You had fallen on the pavement as you’d tried to run away from the bullies, determined to not let them see you cry. The entire ordeal had been mortifying. You wished you would have just stood there and cried, let them hear your sobs and let them crown you the school’s newest crybaby. 

“What happened to your hands?” you sniffled, moving to wipe at your nose. Your cheeks were drier now, the skin nearly stiff where the tears marks remained. 

When you mentioned it, he suddenly shot his hands out before him, flexing each hand for emphasis as he looked down with boredom, “What? The cuts? Carver has sharp teeth, ‘s all.”

“Carver?” One of the kids who had just partaken in tormenting you. 

“Yeah,” the boy nodded, suddenly plopping himself onto the ground beside you. You flinched and he grimaced in a silent apology once more, “I think he was in the middle of saying something when I punched him, but that’s not surprising. He always has his big mouth open-” 

He was cut off mid-insult by a soft snort of laughter. Looking up, all of the previous annoyance at his injured knuckles melted away as he caught you fighting back your laughter. 

“What? I say somethin’ funny?” he was biting back his own grin, raising an eyebrow. 

You only laughed more, shoulders shaking now with entertainment rather than sobs. “I- Yeah, sorry, I just- God, you’re right. Carver does have a big mouth.” 

“The absolute biggest.”

“Bigger than the Atlantic ocean.”

His chuckling joined yours, along with a face splitting grin and eyes that you swore shone between the monotonous tones. “God, bigger than the fucking Pacific ocean. Every ocean, as a matter of fact.” 

You both leaned back against the rough bark of the tree, just close enough you could feel his heat through the summer air but not quite touching. Not yet. You let the back of your head thump against the trunk and tried to not think about any of the debris sure to end up in your hair. 

“So…” you sighed once the two of you composed yourself from your laughing fits, “I’m assuming you punched Carver?” 

He only nodded in answer.

“Can I ask why?”

Part of you wanted to assume that the two events were connected; Carver bullying you, and this boy punching him. But you didn’t want to make such a bold assumption about some stranger. Fellow peer or not. 

“Because he made fun of you.” 

The assumption wasn’t so bold. Your chest constricted, you remembered the sting of your knees, heard the echoes of the other students’ laughter at your fall once more. 

“You punched him just because he made fun of me?” you tried to force out a joking tone, as if it wasn’t a big deal, as if it wasn’t making your heart swell, “You don’t even know me.” 

“Doesn’t matter. He made fun of you,” the boy said with concrete decisiveness. There wasn’t a quiver of doubt to be seen, as if the logic made perfect sense to him. Your heart swelled more, painfully so. He looked down at one of his hands for a moment, before suddenly shrugging and rolling his head to look at you, sticking it out towards you, “I’m Eddie, by the way.”

A certain security blanketed the moment. This kid, Eddie, had punched a guy for making fun of you. You’d never even spoken to him before that day, much less would you have considered bruising your own knuckles for him. But he had for you. Without hesitation, apparently. Just some boy with a sliver of a gap still between his front teeth, a promise of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and blood on his hands as a reminder of your honor. 

Teachers were certainly going to be coming to find the two of you soon. There would be consequences, most likely more on Eddie’s part than yours, but that didn’t matter. There, in the shade of an oak tree of a middle school you’d soon be departing only to join the ranks of some awful high school with bigger and badder bullies, with larger and crueler problems than skinned knees, you had a friend. 

“I’m-” you started, reaching out your hand to meet his halfways. But you stopped, because the moment your palm met his, it happened. Suddenly, quickly, unexpectedly. It nearly gave you an instantaneous migraine; the flood of color was so overwhelming. 

The first color you saw was the soft, whiskey brown of his eyes. Two warm and comforting orbs, blown out to be as wide as your own, as his face echoed back the same shell-shock on your own. His eyes were brown. Not grey, not black, but something more, something russet. Brown. 

Colors. You were seeing colors for the first time. You both knew what it meant. 

“You,” he breathed out with a boyish grin, letting you catch the pink of the tip of his tongue as he finished your introduction for you, both of your excitement buzzing in the breeze, “are my soulmate.” 

—

Fifteen was the age of awkwardness. Thirteen had been awful, sure, full of changes and growth and such, but fifteen made it seem like a cake walk. 

You wouldn’t have survived it without Eddie. 

Two years into the friendship, the two of you were inseparable. You had always spent your entire childhood assuming that when you found your soulmate, it would all fall into place, romantically speaking. But then Eddie happened. Eddie, your soulmate, fell right into your lap and you realized all of your childish dreams were pale in comparison. 

He was your best friend first and foremost. Even if he hadn’t been revealed as your soulmate on that day, you have no doubt that the trajectory of your friendship would have stayed on this path. From the beginning, both of you decided to Hell with society’s expectations of soulmates. Sure, most people didn’t find their soulmates until later in life, when it made sense for the sparks of romance to fly instantly, but the adults still seemed to expect that when the news broke. Your parents had been concerned, Eddie’s Uncle Wayne had been weary, your teachers had been blatantly confused. 

It was fun for the two of you, though. The thrill of introducing each other as, “This is my best friend. Oh, also my soulmate, but, hey. Technicalities, am I right?” 

Most of the kids in your grade hadn’t met their soulmates quite yet, especially those first few years. A sense of superiority sprouted in both of you to be able to know, to experience, to lavish in a world of color. To have the weight of finding your better part lifted off your shoulders so soon in life. 

You and Eddie had an entire lifetime to figure out the romantic aspect of it all. For now, he was your best friend, and you were his, and that was enough. 

Once you two had entered high school, one thing did become very clear: the parading of being soulmates had to cease. 

Jason Carver had been enough of a menace in middle school, but grew into a fully formed monster once he joined your ranks in high school. People were not kind to Eddie – they hadn’t been in middle school, when he first moved to Hawkins, and they weren’t going to change their tune suddenly in high school. The bullying you had endured had begun to fade, but his age of torment had just begun. 

You never once left his side. It didn’t matter to you if the entire school knew you were soulmates or not. It didn’t even matter that you two were soulmates; he was your best friend, and you would be damned before you left him to battle the tides alone. 

“I hate this,” he mumbled as he sat on the toilet of his shared bathroom with Wayne in their trailer, you kneeling between his legs as you blotted at his split lip with an alcohol wipe, “I should have punched the asshole back.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have,” you scowled, furrowing your brows even deeper in concentration, “And stop talking – you’re making it worse.”

He opened his mouth to reply, but you quieted him with a glare. 

Just as you wouldn’t have survived the Age of Awkwardness without Eddie, he wouldn’t have survived it without you. 

You finished cleaning off the dried blood before tossing the wipe into the overfilled trash can, sighing heavily as you fell back onto the ground and supported yourself against the wall opposite of him. 

You leveled each other into a staring contest, eyes blankly boring into each other with emotionless expressions. 

“You’re lucky Wayne isn’t home, y’know,” you finally broke the silence, shooting a hand out to grab his ankle and give it a squeeze, “He’d probably be driving down to the school right now and-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved you off, shaking his head, “I know. Trust me, I know. I think Principal Higgins is starting to hate him more than he hates me.” 

“Principal Higgins doesn’t hate you.”

“You’re right – he loathes me.” 

The hand that was squeezing his ankle quickly traveled up to his knee to slap it, “Eddie.” 

He raised his hands up in the air, lifting his brows for emphasis as he exclaimed, “What? You know I’m right, kid.” 

Kid. The loving nickname Eddie had adorned you with the moment he found out he was a mere six months older than you. You hated it, and he loved that you hated it. 

“The day you’re right is the day pigs fly, old man.”

Old man. The nickname that served as your attempt at a rebuttal. It didn’t work, not as intended. 

He chuckled softly at that, as he usually does when you call him that, and only smacked his palms onto his thighs, “Well, doc, I must say – you’ve done an exquisite job. Am I free to go?” 

You tried to fight your smile, tried to linger in the anger sparked from seeing Eddie hurt. Your disdain wasn’t directed at him; it was always a loaded gun pointed at whoever dared to lay a hand on your boy. You probably could have had a spotless reputation without Eddie Munson in your life, but you’d found your fists quick to fly in his defense. 

Your parents hated it. Wayne secretly adored it, even when he’d still join in scolding you and Eddie alike on avoiding violence. 

“Sure,” you shrugged, before grabbing his calves through denim to stop him. Dark blue denim, a deep shade of navy that you still hadn’t grown used to seeing. You hadn’t even realized jeans came in so many different shades until you met Eddie, and you’d always chastised him when he’d opt for a boring black pair, “But first, a payment is required.”

“A payment?” Eddie tilted his head, looking down at you curiously.

“A payment.” 

“And what would this payment be?” 

“A movie night,” you grinned wildly, finally letting your grip on him go, taking in the chestnut highlights of his curls and the red font of his t-shirt, a band shirt you’d never heard of but that he had recently gotten into, “Snacks provided by my loving host, you, of course.” 

He exaggerated his pondering, bringing a hand to his chin, stroking dramatically. As if he was ever capable of saying no to you. 

“Hm,” he hummed, his voice echoing through the tiny space and encasing you in warmth. As serene as that first summer day when he’d taken the leap of sitting down next to you in the grass, back to a tree, palm in your palm as colors had swarmed your vision, “I suppose that can be arranged.” 

—

Movie nights were a frequent occurrence. A sanctuary from the shit show of your small town. Sometimes, they had been the illusion of a bargain like that night, and others, they were an unspoken agreement. You’d show up to Eddie’s trailer or he would end up on your doorstep, your favorite candies in hand, and the two of you would just know. No words needed as you’d situate yourself on whoever’s couch, legs intertwining and blankets shared across laps. A bowl of popcorn that usually ended up being spilled inevitably. 

Movies were more fun in color. Some of your friends didn’t get it, still living in a world of black and white, but Eddie loved to listen to your rambles about how the vivid shades appeared across the screen. He loved the way your eyes would light up passionately, he loved how you still smiled so widely at special effects that were made more poignant by this gift the two of you had been given. 

Time. You two had been given the time most soulmates weren’t allotted. A gift you always thanked the Universe for. 

The latest Slasher film that had been released was currently displayed on the small television in Eddie’s living room, the two of you practically molded to the worn cushions of his sofa. Wayne had left within the first ten minutes for his shift, bidding the two of you a farewell with the warning of behaving. Vibrant reds splashed across the screen as one of the protagonists takes a stabbing, and while you should be shying away from the gruesome scene, you can’t help but stare in awe.

Even after years of experiencing colors, they took away your breath.

“Jesus,” you sighed wistfully, “How do they even make the fake blood? It’s so… so…”

“Red?” Eddie laughed from the other side of the couch, prodding at your thigh with his sock clad foot, “Probably food dye. Maybe some corn syrup.”

“It’s just so bright,” you eagerly leaned in closer to the TV, squinting with a wide smile, unaware of his stare. 

He was quiet for a moment, simply enjoying your joy. Your awe and wonder at the world, the way it seemed as if you two had just met that day rather than years before. As if colors were still a fascinating color to you. Eddie had grown used to them, let them become a part of his daily routine, but you always seemed to shine a new light on them for him. 

Around you, all the colors seemed a little bit brighter. 

“How do you do that?” he whispered so softly, it nearly got lost in the noise of the movie’s climax.

You hummed in response, eyes never leaving the screen. You were watching the movie in fascination, and he was watching you in serenity. 

His miracle. His gift. His soulmate. 

“You just…” he trailed off, no longer caring about the movie, “You always treat them like they’re brand new.” 

It caught your attention. The way his tone was so… velvety, so caring, so affectionate. You looked at him, “I treat what like they’re brand new?” 

“The colors.”

“Because they are.” 

The same assuredness as he used that very first day. As if it were obvious, as if it were simply a matter of fact and not such an endearing trait. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion and it only made his heart clench tighter. 

You were his soulmate. 

“We lived without them for thirteen years, old man-”

“Thirteen years and six months, in my case,” he piped up in interruption, wearing a Cheshire grin. 

You nodded and rolled your eyes, “Yes, in your case. Thirteen years, give or take. I just… I don’t know. They still… they still get to me. I don’t think I can ever get used to them. Are you?” 

“What? Used to them?”

“Yeah.”

He didn’t know how to explain it to you, not at that moment. How could he articulate to you that after so many years, the colors had dulled ever so slightly? The novelty had worn off, had run its course. The only time they’d ever become as vivacious as the first time was when he looked at you. 

He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain it to you, so he only shrugged, “I guess.” 

I guess, except when I see the color of your eyes, and I realize they’re my favorite color. Except when I notice the varied shades of your hair, and realize how lucky I am to see them in their full glory rather than shades of grey. Except when you wear that favorite mauve lipstick of yours, and I can’t get over the shape of your lips. Except when you wear that pretty red dress, and your confidence has my head spinning. 

I guess, except when it’s you. 

“Well, that’s just sad,” you huffed, focusing back on the movie after kicking gently at his shin. You lapsed into a comforting silence for a few more minutes, letting the movie fill the air. The same cycle; you watched the screen, he watched you, and the Universe watched both of you with a smile as it knew that the right choice had been made. The two of you were meant for each other. In this life. In the past lives. In the next lives. The two of you were the epitome of soulmates, even if the concept had never existed before. 

Thank the Universe it existed. Thank the Universe that he found you that day, below an oak tree, scraped knees and all. 

His voice shook as he quietly confessed, “I love you, you know that, right?” 

The movie faded in a blur for you instantly. Your neck could have snapped from how quickly you turned your attention to him. “What?”

“I love you,” his voice continued its waver, not from being unsure but from pure emotion. The flood of love that pulsed through his veins currently. 

You smiled, the apples of your cheeks punctuated and the chip in your tooth from your youth he hadn’t had the privilege of being apart of on showcase, “Well, yeah. Duh. I’m your soulmate. You kind of have to love me.” 

“Even if we weren’t soulmates,” he rushed to clarify, suddenly leaning forward and grabbing your knee beneath blankets that smelled of home, “Even if you weren’t my soulmate, I would love you.” 

Your face softened. He wished he would have kissed you in that moment. 

But the vulnerability was terrifying, and all that could echo through your mind is the fact that you two had time. So instead of matching his serious tone, you joked, “Well, it’s a good thing I am your soulmate, then. It might have been awkward for your hypothetically soulmate you would have had instead in that scenario, trying to explain why you love your best friend more than them.” 

“Shut up,” he laughed, squeezing your knee tighter, “I’m being serious, kid. I love you. I really, really fuckin’ love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“You’re only saying that because I’m the reason you see colors.”

“Fuck the colors,” he was quick to reply, “The Universe can take back the colors, as long as I still have you.” 

There it is. The earthquake you dreamt of as a little girl. The trailer’s across the park never felt it, the kids surely getting into trouble in the forest behind Eddie’s home didn’t notice it, but you felt it. A rumble through your chest, a groundbreaking discovery, a world-ending confession. Your world began, and your world ended, and your world restarted with Eddie Munson. 

“You don’t believe me,” he noted, suddenly shimmying out from beneath the blanket.

“Wait, hold on-”

“Stay here.” 

You stayed frozen in your seat, wide eyes following his broad back and the army green of his t-shirt. No longer a frail frame, face filling out with puberty. He was becoming a man. No longer the young boy who took punches and threw them back twice as hard. 

He was becoming a man, he was your soulmate, and he loved you. He loved you enough he would give up what everyone else considered the greatest gift, just for you. 

Eddie Munson didn’t need colors to love you so ardently. And you knew, at that moment, that the same could be said for you. You would have loved him no matter what. The moment his shadow had spread over you beneath wide leaves and simmering heat, he was destined to hole up in your heart, never to leave again. 

By the time he had returned to the living room, you had paused the movie, eyes locked on where he emerged from the hallway with a polaroid camera in hand and a mischievous grin gracing his features. The camera had been a joint gift from your parents and his uncle the previous Christmas. 

Your eyes weren’t on the camera. They were on him. His hair had grown over the years, wild auburn curls finally surpassing his ears. The awkward style made for ridiculous bed head, something you’d been witness to many mornings after impromptu sleepovers. 

You were fascinated with the way the sunlight caught each strand as they bounced with his eager steps. The trace of gold you could outline. Shades of autumn you loved to run your fingers through when he’d offer the opportunity.

He shook the camera into the air for emphasis, finally catching your eyes’ attention, before he propelled himself back down onto the couch across from you, both of you sitting up instead of being reclined now. “Let me show you something.” 

“O-Okay,” you stuttered out, unsure. 

He fiddled with the camera for a few moments before he brought it up to his face, resting against his cheek as his eye peered into the small peephole. You were so busy memorizing him like that, that the flash of the camera took you off guard and effectively blinded you for a few seconds. 

“What the-” you started with a scowl, hands flying up to rub your knuckles into your eyes in a sorry attempt to rush away the stars blocking your vision. 

“Just wait,” he insisted, snatching up the polaroid the moment it printed from the camera. When you flashed him an unconvinced look, he continued on, “Trust me.” 

He didn’t have to ask twice. You always trusted him with your entire being, whether for better or for worse. 

The polaroid was slow in developing. Eddie hummed to fill the silence, occasionally fanning around the small capture of you that was slowly filling out in color rather than blinding white. You spent your energy on trying to decipher what song was stuck in his head and not focus on how slow those damned photos always seemed to be in coming to fruition. 

It had only been a few minutes, but it had felt like an eternity when you finally gave up on figuring out the song and succumbing to your impatience with a sigh, “This is the world’s slowest magic trick ever.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but tossed you the camera. You thanked the Heavens for fast reflexes as you were able to catch it rather than let it fall to the ground. The two of you would have never heard the end of it if you managed to break such an expensive gift. 

“Hey!” you shouted as you clutched the camera tightly to your chest, “Be careful with this thing, Eddie. It’s fragile.”

His eyebrows raised from behind where he held up the polaroid he took of you to his face, “Is it? Can we really be sure that it’s that fragile if we don’t knock it around for good measure?” 

“We can,” you snappily replied, glaring down at the camera and fighting amusement, “If you want to throw it around, be my guest. But you’ll explain to Wayne why you broke it – not me.” 

“Of course, kid,” he grinned so wide that it spread to his cheeks peeking out either side of the photo still obnoxiously close to his face, “What else is a best friend good for? Basically signed up to be your permanent scapegoat until the end of time the moment I gave you the gift of colors.”

“And yet, I’m the one usually talking us out of trouble,” you dramatically called back, finally looking up at him and holding up the camera, “What am I supposed to do with this?” 

“I dunno. Break it, take a picture of me. The choice is yours, sweetheart.” 

He still hadn’t put the photo of you down, so you finally reached across the sea of blankets to yank on his forearms. Once you were faced once more with those warm doe eyes rather than the blank back of a photo, you narrowed your eyes at him in indecision. 

He was still smirking. Wide enough that his teeth just barely peeked out between his barely parted lips. You recalled the tales of kiss-bitten lips, the way you’d heard adults describe that deeper shade of pink, and for a second, you considered that it would look good on Eddie. Something about imagining him flushed and bruised by love and lust rather than malice made your gut twist stormily. 

“Picture it is,” you muttered, “Put that stupid polaroid down and smile for the camera, pretty boy.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” 

The camera went off mid-teasing, his dimples on full display and eyes shining wonderfully with the flash of the camera. 

“Nope,” you mumbled, “Just said it so you’d keep smiling.” 

It was a lie. A horrible, pathetic, and badly-veiled lie. 

The photos developed faster. Yours is finally in full color and detail by the time the two of you can make out the shape of Eddie in his, and he was quick to toss it to the side before he shoved yours into your lap. 

“There, look.” 

It wasn’t anything magnificent to look at. Just another photo. The same old color of your hair, baby hairs frizzing at the edges. Same old eyes fighting from crinkling in adornment at the boy before you. You weren’t anything special, not in your eyes. But Eddie’s expectant stare told you that there had to be something more there, something he was waiting for you to pick up on. You scoured the background of the photo for pops of color only to come up empty-handed. All you could find were the tired dark tones of the Munson’s furniture and living room behind yourself in the picture.

“Eddie, what am I supposed to be looking at?” you squinted, bringing the photo closer and trying to figure out the useless puzzle he had presented you with, “It’s just a picture of me-”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, “A picture of you. My soulmate. That right there,” he leaned over and plucked the photo from your hands, holding it up tauntingly just out of reach, “Is a picture of the girl I love. A picture of the one person who makes colors worth seeing, and makes colors worth losing.” 

The sentiment had you choked up. 

“You’re my favorite person,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he held up his hand with his knuckles facing you as he put down the polaroid in his lap, “Have been since that very first day.” 

There was still a faint scar, right there, clear as day. It casted over the knuckles of his ring and middle finger as a permanent reminder of that fateful day. As if the colors weren’t enough, as if the swell of your heart inside your chest wasn’t enough reminder of the love and care you’d always felt pulsing from Eddie.

You reached out to the coffee table suddenly, picking up the photo of him, glad to see it finally developed. You didn’t even glance at it before you held it up to him, “And this is a photo of my favorite person.”

“You didn’t even look at the picture.”

“I don’t need to,” you breathed out, moving the picture out of your vision to look at him dead in the eyes, “He’s right here in front of me. In full color, treating me far kinder than I deserve.” 

His touch was ginger as he pinched the corner of the photo and took it from your grasp, placing it down atop the polaroid of you, “Don’t do that. You always deserve my kindness – you deserve the entire world’s kindness. I’ll kick the ass of anyone who argues otherwise.”

A soft and shy smile ripped at your lips, made the corners and your cheeks ache as you shrugged, “Whatever you say, old man.” 

He only looked at you, only wore the lovesick look of a man face-to-face with his soulmate.

The movie was long forgotten. All snacks carefully put on the table before Eddie threw the blanket off of the two of you and scooted backwards while leaving a space large enough for you between his legs.  

“C’mere,” he beckoned, motioning for you to crawl forward and fit your head to his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. He pressed you impossibly close to him, until your cheek was tight to his t-shirt and your ear was thundering with his racing heartbeat. 

You melted into him easily, letting your own arms encase him to the best of their abilities in this position. You took a few selfish moments to just be there with him, to just let his words sink in beneath your skin and the reality of them weigh heavy on you. The heavier it weighed, the further into his embrace you pressed. 

The warmth of serenity and peacefulness of the picture perfect moment nearly lulled you to sleep. But even in the drowsiness, you felt the kiss he pressed to the crown of your head. 

“I love you, too,” you admitted, muffled by his chest. You hoped he felt the words and wouldn’t teasingly make you look him in his eyes as you confessed, “I love you so fucking much. I couldn’t do this without you.” 

“Sure you could-” he began, but was cut off but the abrupt lifting of your head, just as he fingertips had started on a path down your spine.

“I couldn’t,” you insisted, “I really, really couldn’t. I need you to stick around for a long time, Munson. I’m not in the business of losing my soulmate until we’re old and grey and gross. I want to keep you around until I lose count of all your wrinkles and weird moles.”

He chuckled, and the force vibrated against your shoulder digging into his torso. 

You retrieved those two polaroids before you resettled against him, your back now pressed to his chest as you held the two snapshots side by side for both of you to look out. 

He was right. You think you get it. 

When you look at the photo of yourself, you see nothing extraordinary. But when you look at the photo of Eddie, everything just… the world seemingly stops, all moving parts suddenly snapping into place. A boy vibrant with color and glee, a boy who tugged on every heartstring you’d hung in your chest throughout your lifetime. It sent warmth to every crevice of you, from the top of your head where the ghost of his lips still lingered to the tips of your toes wiggling beside his within thick socks. 

It’s more than an earthquake or the world stopping. Eddie doesn’t just stop or begin your world – he is your world. 

A world of wild hair, charming smiles, unfiltered laughter and fierce adoration. Even the brightest shades out there that you had yet to discover were dim compared to the boy photographed in time for you. 

His arms slide around your shoulders, tugging you in even closer,“Just out of curiosity, what is your cap on wrinkles you can count? Because I’ve seen Wayne, and some photos of my old man, and let me tell you – time is not kind to us Munson men.” 

You rolled your head and pressed a kiss to one of his forearms before smashing your cheek into it, breathing deeply as his fingertips drew random shapes over the spot on your chest that your heart rests beneath. 

“As many as it takes, old man.” 

“Whatever you say, kid.” 

You brought a hand up to curl around the arm, right beside when you kept your cheek nuzzled. He finally laid his palm flat against your chest, and you wonder if he can feel the way each beat of your heart called out his name. It was okay if he didn’t – he had all the time in the world to figure it out. 

—

“I just don’t understand why you’re so mad!”

“I’m not mad, Eddie – I’m fucking pissed!” 

“Okay, then I don’t understand why you’re so pissed!” 

Seventeen is the age of being reckless and redundant. Of big feelings and reckless decisions. It is the time in your life for being an absolute idiot. 

Eddie Munson was proof of it as the two of you stood outside of his van, the whistle of the winds around you two from the impending storm lost on your current screaming match. 

“Figure it out,” you seethed, stomping your feet almost childishly as you began to turn away from him, “And while you do that, leave me the fuck alone.” 

“I- Hey!” he reached out for you, but you’re already quickening your pace and hopping up onto the sidewalk, “Hey! Don’t fucking walk away from me!” 

You didn’t reply, only widening your strides. 

He called out your name, and you heard his frustrated groan before he easily caught up with you. 

Damn him and his newfound height. 

“Would you just listen to me?” he shouted, latching onto your bicep and spinning you around harshly to face him.

You yanked yourself out of his touch quickly, eyes blazing, “Why should I? I’ve seen what I needed to see, Eddie. Just go back inside to your preppy girlfriend. Forget about me. Pretend like she’s never stood to the side while her boyfriend bullied you like- like- like some asshole.”

His hair was longer now. Ringlets that cascaded to brush over the top of his shoulders – shoulders that had broadened impressively as he neared the end of his youth. His newest clothing staple covered them; a denim vest you’d helped him distress and sew multitudes of patches onto, a display of his favorite bands that had only painted a new target onto his back. 

Satan worshiper. That’s what they called your soulmate in terrified whispers amongst the halls at school. That’s what all the PTO mothers’ eyes silently cursed when they’d see him with you at the grocery store. 

He’d made quite the image for himself. And you’d stayed by his side, defending his honor at every chance. Your best friend, your soulmate. 

Only to find him eating the face off of some cheerleader at that goddamned party. 

Yeah, you didn’t need to listen to him. You really had seen enough. 

“She’s not my girlfriend!” he waved his arms wildly, the storm roaring loader with his increased volume.

“What is she then?” you insisted with venom, crossing your arms and effectively closing yourself off from him as you took another step back, “Just some one night stand? Some fun to have before you have to accept that you’re shackled to me for the rest of your life?” 

You hated the way your eyes burned. You cursed the tears gathering as you glared at him viciously, masking all the pain with as much rage as you could muster. 

He wouldn’t even kiss you, his soulmate. But he would kiss her. 

“Stop putting words in my mouth,” he warned lowly, tone no longer making a spectacle of the two of you, “You know that’s not how I see it.” 

“You won’t even kiss me.” 

He was stunned into silence. As you spat out the words, the first few tears slipped.

It was about more than the pretty blonde girl you’d found him with. It was about more than the fact he was kissing someone else. 

“I… What?” he whispered, his entire body going slack with defeat. 

The tears fell more rapidly now as you replayed the moment in your head. The two of you were only at the stupid party for Eddie to deal weed from some weird guy he’d met in the arcade, a way to make extra cash. Cash he claimed he was putting towards your future together. You had no idea how you’d gone from sitting on the couch together to tipsy, joining a circle of fellow peers who momentarily forgot their cruelness between shots of whiskey and pours of vodka. 

You were going to hate the game of Spin the Bottle for the rest of your life. You were sure of it. 

When Eddie’s turn had arrived, when the neck of that dingy beer bottle casted shades of ambers in your direction, you had been so excited. Your heart had been in your throat, your head dizzy with the excitement of him finally kissing you. Your soulmate by Nature, your best friend by choice, finally would be kissing you. You had been so sure it was an affirmation from the Universe that the right choice had been made when it came to the two of you. That it was all real, and the colors weren’t a product of your delusion. 

And then he said no. 

“You wouldn’t kiss me,” you choked out, pulling your arms around your torso tighter to fight back any shivers or shaking, “The bottle landed on me, on your soulmate, and you wouldn’t even fucking kiss me. The one person you should have kissed. And you didn’t.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened in shock, a deer caught in your headlights, as he started to stutter out a sorry excuse. 

You didn’t want to hear it. You only threw your head back in bitter laughter, spinning on your heel and preparing to leave him behind once more.

“Wait,” he begged, grabbing your shoulder this time. 

You shrugged it off harshly, “For what? For you to make up some bullshit excuse for it? I don’t want to hear it, Eddie. I get it. I’m so sorry that I’m your soulmate. I’m so sorry you’re stuck with me. I’m so-” 

He cut you off by rounding in front of you, blocking your escape route and cradling each of your cheeks with determination as he forced you to meet his fiery gaze, “Stop putting words in my mouth! That’s not why I did it, okay? It’s not!” 

Your tears fell more rapidly, so quickly that his thumbs couldn’t have kept up with swiping them away if he tried. Instead, he let them puddle against his palms, focus solely on your eyes as he bore into them and whispered, “That’s not why I said no. And it’s not why I kissed that girl, okay? You’ve got to believe me, kid.” 

“Don’t-” you started, but he shook his head, determined.

“No, no. Hear me out. Please. You know I don’t see it that way. You- You’re- I’m not shackled to you. You aren’t some sort of damnation for me. Do you get that? You aren’t some life sentence or burden – you’re….” he trailed off, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. Constellations in his lashes to match your own. “I said no because I’m terrified. O-Okay? I said no to kissing you because… because… what if you’re the one shackled to me?” 

The crack in his voice reverberated through you. Aftershocks rattled your bones at his confession. 

“I- We haven’t crossed that line. And I just… if I crossed that line, and if you decided I wasn’t what you wanted…” his eyes searched yours for answers you couldn’t provide to him, not as your brows creased and your chest tightened, “If I kissed you and you decided that the Universe made a mistake, that I’m not actually your soulmate… I- Fuck, I couldn’t take that, kid. I couldn’t.” 

You’re no longer poised to run, to escape him and all the emotions drowning your lungs. You felt your shoulders drop, your defenses burned to ash as you stood with two solid feet on the quivering ground below you. 

There were a million reassurances on the tip of your tongue, but instead you only said, “Why did you kiss her?” 

The question that had pinned you as a flight risk. Because if what he told you was true, and you did believe him, then it didn’t make sense. Nothing that had happened that night made sense if what he said was true. 

“I don’t know,” he seemed even more confused than you, “And- God, I’m fucking sorry for such a shitty cop-out of an answer. But I just… I don’t know. I just did. She was there, and she kissed me, and I kissed back. I pretended she was you, like a fucking idiot.”

The honesty threatened to shatter you, but you decided it was better to hear his truth than risk being lied to. You could move past the anguish in both your eyes, the confusion and the hurt having brewed – you wouldn’t have been able to move past some half-assed lie in an attempt to save your feelings. 

“I regret it,” he whispered, “The moment I kissed her back, I regretted it.”

“Why?”

An opportunity to seal a bandage over the bleeding wound. A chance for him to make it all better. 

“Because she isn’t you. She isn’t my soulmate - she never could be. It’s you, and it was always going to be you, even if the Universe didn’t agree with me.” 

You took a moment to try and picture a world in which the man stood before you wasn’t your soulmate. A world where your palms touched, and your world hadn’t exploded in technicolor. Another Universe where the first color you had seen hadn’t been warm, brown, honey coated eyes. A twisted timeline where you hadn’t been awarded the gift of memorizing the red of his guitar, his sweetheart, or the calm blue tint his room bathed in every early morning. A world where you don’t know the shade his skin turns in during golden hour, or can’t see the way his few tattoos he’d gathered in the past year on his skin are actually a fading shade of blue-green rather than stark black. A world where you couldn’t pick up the Fruity Pebbles stuck between his teeth as he rushed to class late and you teased him mercilessly for it. A world without color - a world without the guarantee of Eddie Munson. 

A breeze roared by, and you could hear the Universe you were in whispering to stop it, to not do this. Because you weren’t living in a world without color. Your world had burst to life when your palm met his. You knew all the colors of his lifeline like the back of your hand. 

“It wasn’t worth it?” You knew the answer. You still needed to hear him say it.

And say it he did, nodding in confirmation, “It wasn’t worth it. She wasn’t worth it.” 

He could have left it at that and you would have offered him your forgiveness anyways. Even if the bond formed between you two didn’t feel like a shackle of chains binding you two together, you knew that there would always be an invisible string wound around your soul and connected to his. You could have spent longer being mad, you could have still walked yourself home and left him broken in the middle of that neighborhood street. But even if you did, you would have eventually found your way back to him. Whether you left in anger, whether you left in sadness, whether you left in mourning – your final destination remained the same. Him.

You may have all the time in the world with Eddie, but even a second spent upset with him felt like a second wasted. 

Not even forever felt like long enough. You knew that now, glaringly obvious by the chain of events the night had followed. 

And so he could have left it at that. And all would be well. Wounds would heal and time would soothe the ache that echoed. But he didn’t. 

He took a step closer. Took a shaky, deep breath. And then another step. One foot after the other until he was toe-to-toe with you as he breathed out, “You’re my future. You’re everything to me. Soulmate or not, you’re all I want. I want to grow old with you until I lose count of your wrinkles, and then some.” 

His chin tilted down, lips daring closer and closer to yours as your stare into his eyes refused to waver. 

Deep, deep brown. Endless, molten, a kind of comforting that says you’re home, you can rest now. How fortunate you were to see the twisting of lively carob and umber rather than lifeless greys. 

Your eyes tried to flutter close, but you couldn’t let them, not yet. Not until he was close enough to feel his breath on your chin before he let out a raspy, “Baby.” 

You folded immediately, took the plunge as your eyes finally shut and you pressed forward with fervent. 

It wasn’t like the movies. It wasn’t fluid and instantaneous. There was hesitancy and there was awkwardness, and your noses bumped one anothers hard enough to make both of you chuckle into the rarity of space left between your mouths as you both gasped in waves of air before returning to one another. His hand took its time before it grabbed your waist, and it trembled the entire time. Your arms shook the entire way they lifted until they wrapped around his neck and shoulders, unsure of where exactly to lay comfortably. 

But none of that mattered. Because he was kissing you – your soulmate was finally kissing you. And you had never kissed another soul before that night, but you knew immediately you’d never want to kiss another soul. 

It wasn’t like the movies or fairy tales, but it was enough. 

And you knew he felt the same way when the kiss was broken by the grin that split his lips just as the sky began to spit out the beginning of its inevitable downpour. 

—

You hadn’t heard from Eddie in three days. Which, fair enough. Finals season was nearly upon you two and you knew he had been stressed. Since the night of that party nearly a year before, you two had become even more inseparable if possible. You two had finally crossed a line, had finally accepted your status of soulmates, and no one would dare to demand the two of you detach from each other’s sides once you made the announcement that you were officially together. 

Wayne had worn a knowing smile. Your parents had simply warned Eddie to not hurt you (as if that was even an option for him at this point). Even Principal Higgins had offered a polite smile when he caught you two holding hands in the hallway, surprisingly not commenting on the public display of affection. You two were officially dating, officially succumbing to the status quo of what soulmates should be. 

Everyone had already sort of known there was something there between you two, but making it official removed any sliver of doubt any of them may have harbored. 

And so it was fine if Eddie needed space. It had been that way before your first kiss, occasionally learning how to stand as your own entities rather than solely a joint force, and it could continue to be that way after your first kiss. 

But after three days, you had started to worry. 

Pacing your room, you told yourself you were being ridiculous. This was fine. Space was good – space was needed. 

Space didn’t help with all your what-ifs, though.

What if he was hurt? What if he was sick? What if he was mad at you? What if the longer you gave him that space, the starcher of a revelation he would have that he didn’t need you? What if the two of you had flown into all of this too fast, too quickly, too soon? It may have taken years to get there, but what if Eddie suddenly decided the last year had been too much? 

You were in your car, driving recklessly down the streets that would lead to his house, before you could even think of another what if. 

If it was that last thought that crossed your mind, if everything between the two of you had become simply overwhelming for him, you convinced yourself it would be okay. It would be just fine, you could handle it as long as he told you as much to your face rather than hiding behind distance put between you. It remained a mantra spinning through your storming mind the entire drive; it will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it. Anything for him.

You never considered that one of the other possibilities was more likely. Not until you had your car haphazardly parked in front of the Munson’s trailer, fist banging on their front door before Wayne threw it open with tired eyes and wrinkles bunched in concern. 

“Is he here?” you breathed out in lieu of a proper greeting, breathless from your jog up to the damn porch from your car that you hadn’t even bothered with locking up.

It will be fine. It will be okay. As long as he says it, I can handle it.

Wayne understood immediately, stepping to the side as he nodded and motioned for you to come in, “He’s in his room. But listen, he got some news, and he’s not do-”

You didn’t hear the rest of Wayne’s warning, too busy storming past him and flying to Eddie’s bedroom door. You didn’t even knock, bursting through the door and already fighting tears as you geared up to hear Eddie say that he needed time and space, that he had gotten sick of you, that he wanted to experience more life before you guys really gave any of this a fighting chance. 

“Eddie, can you please tell me why you’ve just up and disappeared-” you cut off your plead the moment you laid eyes on him. 

He wasn’t facing the door. He was curled up in bed, back to you, clad in nothing but a t-shirt and boxers. You could see the stubborn knots that had built up in his hair, immediately keyed in on the way he was trying to collapse into himself. His knees were nearly buried in his chest, and if you squinted into the dark room, you’d see the outline of his spine beneath the flash of skin peaking out from where the back of his shirt had raised. 

It wasn’t just the state of him; the state of the room also immediately silenced you. 

Almost as if a war path had been torn through it days before, the bedroom was messier than normal. Eddie was never the most organized or pristine person, but he kept his living space well enough to… well, live. Kept the floor always within sight, tried to never let any collection of trash overflow on the tops of his dressers or desk. He even found himself emptying his ashtrays without your reminding most of the time. Usually, most of the clutter simply came from mountains of papers detailing campaigns or writing new songs, or different sets of dice being left out from planning said campaigns. A t-shirt here, a pair of ripped jeans there – sure. He was a teenage boy. It was expected.

It looked as though a level five hurricane had hit Eddie Munson’s room. 

Clothes strewn everywhere, dresser drawers thrown open and never closed. Beer cans collected across each surface and both ashtrays were overfilling with cigarette butts. You even spotted two half smoked joints on his bedside table. His sweetheart had been taken off of its wall mount and laid to rest on the floor. He would never have let his prized possession be discarded like that. Ever.

Your voice came out weak as you took a step closer to the bed, “Eddie?” 

You’re surprised he heard your whisper. He stirred, and your eyes followed the dust particles dancing in the single stream of sunlight that was bursting through a hole forgotten in his makeshift curtains. Navy blue sheets the two of you once used to make a pillow fort in the Munson living room, thinned to the illusion of a sky blue in some patches.

You’d always warned him they make shit curtains; he’d always shrugged and said it added to his feng shui. 

“Eddie,” you whispered again, knees knocking against the edge of the mattress as you looked down at his broken form, “I… What happened? Are you… are you okay?” 

You hadn’t known how to approach it. Whatever happened was even worse than the first time he’d received a phone call from his dad in prison. 

He mumbled something against the pillow he has one arm curled under.

“What?” you questioned, nearly ready to climb into that damn bed and force him onto his back, force him to look at you if only so you could guarantee there were no tear tracks on his cheeks. 

You don’t have to, though. Eddie finally loosened his grip on that pillow and rolls ever so slightly, just enough for you to see half his face and feel your heart break at the confirmation of tears. Translucent pink eyes, glossy wet cheeks, the tip of his nose glowing as his gaze met yours. He looked tired.

“I’m getting held back,” he croaked, “I fucking- I flunked. I’m not graduating.” 

You nearly sighed in relief. For his sake, you don’t, but the weight on your shoulders lifted immediately. 

“Oh, sweet boy,” you murmured, giving into the need to crawl into the bed. You folded your knees as you situated yourself on the bed behind him, and the moment you’re situated, he wasted no time twisting himself to face you and bury his face into your side, “Why didn’t you call? You had me losing my goddamn mind-“ 

A strangled sob rattled against your side. One of his hands gripped your thigh, fingertips holding on for dear life, “Because your soulmate is a fucking loser.” 

Your chest cracked further, a valley beginning to form as a hand buried into the back of his head, holding him to you as the other hand moved to rub his back in soothing motions.

“My soulmate is not a fucking loser,” you tried to keep a gentle tone rather than scold him at the moment. He didn’t need scolding — he needed patience, he needed care, he just needed you to be there, “Keep talking about him that way, and I’ll have to get the fighting gloves.” 

He wetly laughed into your t-shirt, and you were sure that there would be tear stains when he finally lifted his head, “I’m the one who taught you how to throw a punch, baby.” 

“Exactly. Which means I’ll have you on your ass in ten seconds flat.” 

It was a few minutes of silence that followed; just you holding him, just him clinging onto you. His life line — his single ship of hope in what had been a terribly rocky sea the last few days. An irreplaceable peace settled across all the wounds and damage that had been done in private. You had been right. He should have called you immediately. He should have known that if anyone could make the situation feel less like his world was ending, it was you.

His soulmate.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you questioned in a soft, lulling tone. The endless patterns you’d drawn on his back had nearly put him to sleep, “Maybe be a bit kinder to yourself this time?”

“I just…” he started, finally removing his face from being buried against you, “I sort of had a hunch. O’Donnel wouldn’t round my grade, you know? And I’ve skipped a lot of classes, I know. But hearing Higgins say it just… just…”

“Made it real?” you offered a weary ending to his sentence.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Real. It made it really fucking real.” 

He didn’t feel judged at that moment. He felt seen as you continued on, “It is real, and it sucks. But it’ll be okay, Eds. I mean, I was already planning on the community college for my first year, maybe even taking a year off. If you need any help with classes, you just gotta ask me. Don’t forget I was one of O'Donnell's pets, as unfortunate as it was. I know how to work that woman into rounding up some grade.”

You rambled on a little more, all the while still stroking his hair and back, offering even more solutions. The longer you spoke, the better Eddie felt. You made it all sound so easy — like this was nothing, like it was the smallest of blips in plans that had been years in the making. You weren’t upset, you weren’t disappointed. He deserved your negativity, and instead only received your optimism.

You were with him for the long haul, he realized. Truly. It wasn’t just some one off promise or chain of the Universe holding you to him. He wasn’t dragging you down.

When you finally trailed off, his lids finally heavier than his heart, he sighed, “I love you. You know that?” 

“I love you,” you smiled, “That’s kind of part of the soulmate package, isn’t it?”

“Fuck the soulmate part,” he lifted out of your hold despite everything in him screaming to stay put, to let you to continue to coddle him, “I’ve seen plenty of people be shitty to their soulmates. I watched my dad-“ he cut himself off, throat tightening with memories of his parents. You don’t make him finish that sentence, only nodding in understanding, “The Universe doesn’t force you to be a good person. You choose to be that. Every single day, you choose to stand by my side. You always have. You could have made me feel shitty about this, could have let me see how bummed you really are about sticking out another year here, but…” 

But you didn’t. 

Your eyes softened, a stormy shade of his favorite color, “Do you remember the way you punched Carver that day, before you even knew me?” 

That very first day. The day two souls destined to intertwine had come in contact. The day the Universe had sighed in relief as your palm met his.

He nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whispered, “You didn’t even know me. And yeah, whatever, maybe the Universe nudged you to do it, whatever. But there’s tons of people who know their soulmates for years and never realize it. Tons of people go to school and never interact with their soulmates. But that very first day… the first day you were at that school, the first day you saw me — we met. You defended me. And that counts for something. And I like to think it speaks more about us than it does about the grand scheme of things,” you brought a hand up, wiped away whatever tears were left on his cheeks with enough tenderness he almost started to sob again, “You didn’t know I was your soulmate. I was just some random classmate, and you defended me without even thinking about it. And I will always do the same for you. Always.” 

You always had, you always will. The two of you had proven, time and time again, that you will always choose one another. It was never about that inevitable bond. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he confessed, quickly moving to keep your palm there, resting on his stubbled cheek, “You deserve a soulmate who isn’t a fuck up. Someone good, someone who can give you the world and someone who… who isn’t repeating another year of fucking high school.”

“You still don’t get it,” you grinned sadly. Your fingertips press into that soft spanse right before his ear, cradling him more urgently on their own accord, “I don’t want or need someone else. You do give me the world- you are my world, you idiot.” 

Idiot sounded perfectly aligned with lover as he leaned forward, burying his face in your neck. Home — he was home as you wrapped your arms back around him, pulled him a little closer in your embrace, clung to him as tightly as he clung to you. 

All the colors in the world, and the only ones the two of you cared about were the ones confined to that small space for the time being, shades of you and shades of him, all overlapping perfectly in sync. 

—

You stay true to your word. The first time Eddie repeats his senior year, and the second time. 

Endless nights are spent studying, you forcing him to focus when he couldn’t, trying to invent new ways to learn that work for him rather than against him. He’s brilliant; you never let your boy forget that. 

It’s nice for a while. Sickly sweet kisses and teasing exchanges. Enough lovesickness to make even those around you two nauseous. Nights spent out by Lover’s Lake, exchanges of promises of a future to come and discussions of whether your kids will have his eyes or your eyes. Kids. You two were discussing fucking kids. And it had scared Eddie half to death to even bring it up, but you hadn’t been phased. You’d answered terrifying question after question with ease, had even joked about what color flowers the two of you would have at your wedding and listened to Eddie describe the house he’d want to grow old in with you in excruciating detail. Sometimes the two of you even brought up what kind of dog you’d have, fantasized about the big yard which would not have a white picket fence (because, according to Eddie, that shit was too cheesy even for him in all his adoration for you). It made Eddie realize that after all these years, maybe you had become the brave one.

You’d both succumbed to the stereotypical soulmate trope. Become exactly what society had expected from the two of you since the beginning. And honestly, you couldn’t even be mad about it. You get it – you got the allure as you had laid with a head pressed to Eddie’s chest, observing all the stars again, a night sky the vision of black and white as your vision went blurry with fatigue. 

“You know, that house sounds awfully expensive,” you yawned, curling a bit tighter into his side. You’re in nothing but his t-shirt, his chest still bare from the night’s activities.

Another new development. Even after all your time together, you two continued to find novelty to explore. New ways to learn each other, new ways to love each other, new ways to further tie your two souls together. An unbreakable knot. If anyone, the Universe included, tried to loosen it, you would spill blood without second thought. 

“Oh, it absolutely will be,” he chuckled, vibrations echoing in your eardrum, “But that’s fine. We’re going to tap into that rockstar money, baby.” 

In between talks of the future, more honest versions had arisen. Eddie and his band. You and your aspirations. Things that neither of you laughed at quite as much as the talk of children or houses with wraparound porches because they were in reach. 

“Do you think you’ll have groupies?” your voice was a murmur, mouth half pressed into his skin as you lazily traced circles on his pec you aren’t using as your own personal pillow. 

It made him chuckle once more, “Groupies? Sure. Don’t think any of them will be very successful, though.”

“Bold of you to assume I meant just you,” you’re able to snark back even half asleep, “Gareth deserves to be fawned over, too. Jeff is definitely a ladies killer.” 

Your hand moved just fast enough out of the way for Eddie to lazily mimic stabbing himself in the exact muscle you were painting invisible imagery across, “You wound me, sweetheart.” 

From this angle, you could catch the exact shade of brown that his faded freckles shone. You could see the differences in tan skin, see where he’d left a pair of sunglasses on his chest during a lake day over the summer and the tanline had remained stubborn. That had been a good day – Eddie had thrown you off the dark, wrapping his arms around you and turning the world to a blur of passing greens and blues before you’d been dunked beneath the lake’s surface. The cold water had stunned you, but him joining you seconds later hadn’t. Always by your side, even when he was being a little shit.

You’ve gone quiet on him, mind overcome with fond memories as the silence came naturally only for a few seconds before Eddie felt the need to fill it again. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, the hand that had mock-stabbed himself now curling around your forearm. 

Your hand against his chest turned to a fist, pressing deeper into the skin, just to feel him closer, before you teased him, “How do you even know I’m thinking? What if my mind is just blank right now?”

“Psychic-soulmate-telepathy powers,” he answered without hesitation. When you only huffed, clearly unimpressed, he pressed a kiss to your temple before whispering in honesty, “You were smiling.” 

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. Usually, you loved memorizing all the colors of him. You loved taking in his doe brown eyes and the harsh blush of his swollen lips. You’d memorize the twinkling of pink staining his skin across his chest and up his neck. You’d pick at the vibrant cherry shade of his painted nails, a sharp contrast from the usual black or sharpie scribbles he’d wear on them instead. 

That silver glint of his rings. The forest green of his plaid boxers. All shades in the palette of Eddie Munson, your soulmate. 

You love him so much, your chest is ready to burst from it. And you told him as much, too.

“I’m just really glad I have you,” you said for only him and only the trees to hear, “I’m really happy you came after me that day.” 

There’s no rush to memorize all his colors and all his shades. You had all the time in the entire world, and then some. The only reason anyone had ever reported losing their colors was due to the death of their soulmate, and he wasn’t in any danger at the moment. He was there, sturdy beneath you, deep breaths syncing with your own. 

If you didn’t learn them in this life, you wouldn’t rest until you found him in the next to finish what you had started. 

“Yeah?” you could hear his grin as he held you a bit tighter. Another deep breath, another expansion of his ribs, and you feel all that time laid out at your feet. A lifetime of learning and memorizing Eddie Munson. A life well spent, “I’m glad, too.” 

“Did you have even a single moment where you…. I don’t know, hesitated coming after me?” your speech began to slur, and you knew you were one foot in unconsciousness at that point. 

“Never,” that same certainty he has always held since day one laced his tone, “Never. I just- I went for it. I made Jason Carver eat his words, and I ran after you. The only thing I’ll ever regret is not throwing a second punch at the asshole.”

Your smile widened, and you knew he felt it. Imagined the comfort he felt at the feeling. Imagined the peace that was washing over him just as it encased you, “But not about coming after me?” 

“I don’t regret coming after you,” he told you, not growing the slightest bit annoyed at your need for constant reassurance. His fingers and palm slowly spread across your lower back, the warmth of their weight carrying you into sleep, “I’ll always come back to you, baby.” 

—

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. 

Spring break was supposed to be nice. Time spent with friends, lazy mornings that you and Eddie slept through, night drives spent screaming out in relief to empty highways because he made it – you both made it. The college transfer was already put into motion, making it so you’d start the fall semester at a University in upstate Indiana. Eddie had taken a few roadtrips with you at his side, already having gotten on the good side of a boss at one of the car shops within range of where you’d be attending. You two had littered his floor with ads for apartments, the ones in your price range circled in brilliant and glaring red. Everything had been perfectly in line. Everything was set in place. Spring break was supposed to be a break to just be kids one last time – it was supposed to be nice. 

But then Chrissy Cunningham happened. And Jason Carver, and an entire town of people who had always hated your soulmate. Suddenly, your own plan for the future had been scrapped, and in its spot a line of new dominos had been placed. One falling down after the other, too quick for you to keep up with.

A group of strangers had banged down on your front door. Had demanded to know where Eddie was, claimed they were friends trying to help him. You hadn’t even seen the news yet. They’d tried to fill you in, but only confused you more in the process, because the words Eddie and murderer should have never been used together in a sentence in the way they claimed the entire town was currently spewing. 

You were his soulmate. They were sure you’d know where he was, but you didn’t. 

That didn’t matter, though. The young boy, Dustin, had been determined. You’d heard all about him from Eddie – about the brilliant mind hidden beneath baseball caps and unruly curls, about the smart mouth you witnessed mouthing off to Steve Harrington first hand as you’d been searching for your boy. 

It reminded you of Eddie. It made you ache. It made you only more voracious in your search. 

And you’d found him – terrified, alone, trembling and crying. A version of him you’d never been privy to had pinned Steve fucking Harrington to the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse with a broken bottle to his throat. Wild, scared eyes and hands that shook harder than the day his father had called him and he’d put a goddamn hole through his kitchen wall. More desperation on his face than the day he’d informed you he’d be repeating his senior year for the first time. Shoulders more tense than the night you’d nearly walked away from him over some silly kiss with a cheerleader. 

When he saw you, he’d shattered completely.

The sight of you had him collapsing into your arms, unable to explain himself in full sentences as he gasped and panicked and clung to you. And you had held him, had forced the others to give him time. You were like a feral animal, standing between him and them, friends or not. Your claws and teeth alike had been out, ready to mar anyone who would dare to lay a hand on your soulmate. 

He’d calmed down. He’d explained. And then they had explained and reassured Eddie that he wasn’t crazy. His eyes had found yours over and over, and not a single time did they hold a single doubt for him in them. You believed him; you would always believe him. The cries of the town had been nothing more than static noise. You knew the man before you, you loved the man before you. Your soul knew his intricately, intimately. It would always know him, no matter the circumstance and no matter the troubles to come. In this life and the next.

The colors were never the gift. The gift the Universe had offered you had always been him. 

You stayed with him those short few days. Ran from Carver and his posse, swam in the lake and had kept a level head as you formulated a plan. Find a walkie-talkie. Call for Dustin, call for help. 

When the rest of them had jumped into the lake after Steve, you’d put a selfish hand on his bicep. For a moment, the only thing you were thinking of was him. You couldn’t lose him. 

When he jumped in after Robin and Nancy anyways, you’d followed, no hesitation. 

A dreary, nightmarish world. You’d followed him into Hell – quite literally, it seemed. Except they didn’t call it Hell, they called it the Upside Down. A place made up of all the things children fear, of awful creatures that only served to attack, to kill, and terrible storms of flashing red lightning. A blue tint to the town you’d come to know. Shades of flesh and shades of grey – shades of death – flooded the place. And only you, Eddie, and Nancy could see them. 

Nancy’s soulmate was somewhere far away. Somewhere safe. But she understood that protective stance and the way you’d stuck staunchly at Eddie’s side. She got it. 

A stolen RV, shields made of trash can lids and nails rather than make believe, goddamn spears made at the hand of people all far too young to be handling these things. They were handling the end of the world, and you suddenly hadn’t felt as brave as Eddie always claimed you were. The plan was formulated, and the entire time, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach. You watched Eddie play fight with Dustin, real weapons discarded to the ground, and you listened to Robin whisper the same sentiment to Steve. 

“I just have this terrible, gnawing feeling that… it might not work out for us this time.”

You agreed with Robin. You hated that you agreed with Robin.

And so you stood like a watch dog at Eddie’s side, nearly lashed out when it was suggested you might be more helpful joining everyone else going after this Vecna rather than staying with Eddie. 

It was his turn to put a hesitant hand on your bicep. Brown, russet, umber eyes that flashed with the unspoken question of are you sure you want to do this? 

But he was sure. And just as quickly as you’d followed him into that lake, just as quickly as you had dismissed those awful claims against him, you’d nodded. Because if he was sure, if he was going through it, you would follow him. 

You should have insisted on staying with him and Dustin. 

Because your group of rag tags re-entered that Hellish landscape, and you flinched with each flash of red, not even soothed by Eddie’s hand in yours. And the people around you were now friends; you’d realized in a few short days that you would do almost anything to protect all of them as well, but you knew there was nothing that you wouldn’t do to keep Eddie alive. 

“Hey,” he insists once the two of you stand outside this alternate version of his trailer, somewhere that you should know all too well but that has morphed into something unfamiliar in this world. 

His hand holding yours spins you to face him, a few steps off to the side from the rest of everyone. 

“Hi,” you whisper back, trying to only focus on him. Not the bleak colors of the landscape around you two, but the vibrancy of his shades. You hate the weakness written all across your features, unable to offer him any reassurance in return for all that he had given you over the years. You were terrified. As Robin had said, a terrible gut feeling was gnawing at you from the inside out. You couldn’t help the tears gathering, couldn’t unravel the restriction of your throat. 

“It’s going to be okay, alright?” he does the talking, nodding and lowering his chin to stare right into your eyes. His favorite color now wet with emotion, shining even in the dullest of environments, “Can’t be worse than punching Jason Carver, right?” 

It could be. It could be much, much worse. Everything you two had endured together was children’s play compared to this. But you don’t say that; you nod in dishonesty, biting your lip to stop from letting a whimper escape. 

“I’ll always come back to you, I promise,” he swears so vehemently, voice spitting with determination. Those brows half hidden by the bandana atop his head furrow, his forehead nearly brushing yours.

That, you at the very least, believe. Just as you would find him every time, in this life and the next, he would find you. 

“You better,” you choke out, hands reaching up just to latch onto him one more time. To feel him, sturdy beneath your palms. Alive. Your gift from the Universe, the boy who let you see colors. You almost regret spending so long fascinated with the shades you’d discovered when you should have allotted more time to imprint the features of his face to memory. You should have cared more about that freckle beneath his right eye, the slight crook to his nose, the way each of his calluses feel against your bare shoulders. Shades of blue, red, green, violet, yellow – none of them matter as much as the boy before you. They only matter because they paint the picture of him for you fully. They only matter because he matters, “I still need your rockstar money to pay for that wraparound porch.” 

He laughs at that. And God, he’s gorgeous – his head thrown back, eyes crinkling with genuine joy for the first time in days. No one else catches the tear that slips from one of those pinched eyes, the hidden sadness for only you to catch onto. 

That gnawing feeling – the one you and Robin felt. He felt it, too. 

“Of course,” he finally sighs, opening his eyes back to yours and now holding so many words that neither of you have the time to exchange. It kills you – you don’t have time. You thought you’d always have more time. “Think of this as a test run for that rockstar money. See how a crowd of bats feel about my rockstar skills.” 

“Careful,” your voice cracks, a few tears slipping that he’s quick to swipe away, “I hear they’re a tough crowd.” 

He smiles at your joke, but doesn’t waste his breath on laughing. His lips find yours instead, pouring out every single thought and emotion possible. You feel a tug on that knot you’d tied between you two, everything in your being protesting from pulling back from the kiss. You try to move your lips in a response, to tell him it’ll be fine, to tell him you’ll both return to each other. To tell him you’ll have more time. 

When he pulls back, realizing you can’t, his hand falls from you only to reach into the pocket of his jeans. You don’t understand until suddenly, he’s thrusting a laminated square into your hand. 

You know what it is before you even turn it over. Your entire body strangles down the broken sob as you look down at a polaroid of a younger Eddie. Somewhere safe and somewhere that time is still yours. 

“Keep that safe for me, yeah?” his voice wavers as he produces his own polaroid – the picture of you, “I mean, I’ll have yours, obviously. But… but just… it’s gonna be worth a lot of money once I’m the next big thing in the Upside Down.” 

He’s trying so hard to make you laugh just one more time. It only surges more tears to burn your vision. 

“All I’ll have to show Vecna is this,” you start to joke back, letting more tears stain your cheeks, “And- and-” 

You can’t finish the joke. He gets it, putting a hand over yours, forcing you both to put away those polaroids. 

“I know,” he assures you, “I know. Show him my ugly mug, and he’ll go down without a fight. That’s exactly why I’m giving it to you, baby.” 

Another tear, only for you, slips. You trace it all the way down his cheek, memorize the way his skin looks in the horrid blue tint and try to remember the shade it glows during golden hour instead. 

“I love you,” you say. But once isn’t enough, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he takes your hands in his palms, finally presses his forehead to yours, shares his breath for a moment as he focuses on your sad eyes, “So fucking much. You always were prettier than all the colors combined. Better stay that way till I come back to you.” 

He releases you. Wipes away his tears, has to give you an encouraging shove on your shoulders to force you to join Nancy and Robin’s sides. 

Steve catches your eye, a look on his face telling you he’d been watching the entire interaction. Something yearning crosses his features, and then something clicks. As if this is the first time he’d ever witnessed soulmates. As if he’s the one seeing colors for the first time. 

Maybe that’s why he gives his little speech. Maybe that’s why he tries to plead your case and make sure that Eddie and Dustin don’t do anything stupid. 

After Eddie has made his final request to Steve, to make him pay, he looks at you one last time. A ghost of a grin, wearing his bravest mask to date as he mouths I love you. 

You echo the silent sentiment. A silent prayer. For the Universe to bring him back to you. To bring you back to him. 

—*ash, stop reading here*—

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died. It’s one of the first things you learn when school first broached the sensitive topic. Your soulmate dies, they take the colors with them. They never told you how the soulmate takes the colors with them – never discussed whether it would fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate, if the colors would drain from you in real time and leave a path of chromatic grey behind, or if you’d watch them flicker from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You’d been morbidly curious that day in class despite finding it all a bit dramatic. Had looked around a black and white classroom and processed your classmates' different greyscale reactions. Some were forlorn, some were snickering beneath their breath. Some just looked plain bored. It made sense; you were all kids, none of you had ever seen the blue sky or the verdant grass. Only heard about it. Only listened to adults drone on and on about it wistfully. It was never something tangible, something to have and to hold and to lose. 

You wonder how younger you would have looked upon you now. As you faced down an alternate dimension’s fiercest villain, hand paused midair, prepared to launch a lit molotov cocktail with aim to kill, when you suddenly paused.

The shades of the fire burning brightly in front of you have dulled. Microscopically. The smallest of flickers in vibrancy. 

“What are you doing?” Steve screams when he notices your hesitation, “Throw it! Jesus Christ, throw it before-”

Robin cut him off, being the closest to you and reaching over to snatch the ticking time bomb of a bottle, tossing it for you. 

As it explodes against the mangled being before you, another flicker occurs. You swear you feel a stabbing pain in your side, as if that gnawing has taken to ripping you apart.

You swear the bright flashes of yellow amongst the flames have turned to white. The orange has gone so faded, the dullest bits have shadowed over in grey. 

Nancy takes another shot, but you can’t move. You watch it all in slow motion: she doesn’t miss, her shot ricochets dead center, Vecna stumbles before crashing through the wall behind him. 

The world flickers a final time, and all the air leaves your lungs. 

It’s black and white. 

The floorboards, all of your sudden friends beside you, the walls of the old house, the lightning flashing amongst storm clouds in the sky outside.

It’s black and white. Shades of grey monotone. 

As everyone rushes to look out the hole, your knees collide with splintered wood. 

The colors are gone. It’s black and white. 

“Where’d he-” Steve starts to question before he turns and sees you. You’re folding into yourself, no longer breathing as you look down at your palms. Grey. Not a single sliver of flesh tone to be seen. “Are you okay?” 

The colors are gone. 

A cold washes over you like never before, and even if you wanted to take another breath, you couldn’t. It’s not ash burning your eyes – it’s tears, hot and vicious as your face begins to crumple in panic. 

Eddie. 

You don’t even hear them cross the room back to you. Can’t hone in on what’s happened, if the evil has been defeated and if you’d all won. It doesn’t matter; your colors are gone. 

Your hands finally fumble without thought, patting down your person until you catch the corner of the polaroid. You yank it free, breaths finally strangling into your throat without purchase, your shoulders shaking.

It’ll be in color. It has to be in color. He has to be in color. 

That familiar and well loved photo stares back at you. Your boy, curly hair wild and unruly, grin soft and fond. A twinkle captured in his eye and all that adoration that had been rolling off of him in waves somehow frozen in time. 

Frozen in time, frozen in black and white. 

Steve shakes your shoulders, Robin begins to pace and match your panic. They don’t understand. 

Gritted sobs leave your mouth, tears blinding you as you look at the shadow of what must be Nancy.

She understands.

Even through the strangled breaths, earth-shattering sobs that make you nearly incoherent, she knows. 

“Eddie,” you manage to gasp, fist curling around the photograph. 

The only way to lose your colors is if your soulmate has died.

“Eddie,” you manage a mangled sob as Steve pulls back, horror-stricken as he looks down at the polaroid, slowly piecing together what was happening.

Fast and sudden like the moment you first touched your soulmate. Draining from you in real time and leaving a path of chromatic grey behind. Flickering from sight, just as one might watch the life flicker from the eyes of the one they loved.

“Eddie!” 

You’d always wondered how it happened.

You finally had your answer. You wish you didn’t. 

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanfic #gonna run and hide now sorry bye #Spotify

[vettelsdarling]

𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

Lissie note… Here’s the winner of the poll (winner of this season as well)! Anyways, so sorry for my absence… hope this makes up for it❤️

Summary: Reader used to date George, as they’d been friends since birth. However, she takes a liking to someone he considers an enemy on the track: Max Verstappen. They do say revenge is best served cold… and who is colder than the star of Red Bull himself?

Things to note:

Reader is a year younger than Max (same age as George)

Reader made her break in Tennis

George and Reader are not on good terms (he cheated) (this is not a jab at George btw. My fav team is literally Mercedes)

The whole deal is pretty “the enemy of my enemy is my friend”.

Some of the fc is Emma Raducanu (my fav tennis player❤️)

Pairing: Max Verstappen x George’s ex gf!Fem!Reader

Warnings: none really

Taglist: @drugged-kitkat, @darleneslane, @allwaysallyway

Playlist Recommendations: 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟💗, 𝐌𝐕𝟏

yourusername

Liked by francisca.cgomes, charlottesiine, landonorris and 345,288 others

yourusername Stressful training all week. Ready to show off this weekend!🔥

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charlottesiine Yess! I’ll be watching! Btw, was he any good at tennis?

yourusername He wishes he was me. Should stick to racing.

user1 guys… the third pic…🧍‍♀️

user2 Didn’t George and her split like a few months ago?

user3 New guy? Who’s this🤨

user4 Her brother maybe?

user5 @ user4 Nah, did you see the comment Cha posted and the response to it? That’s def a new guy

user6 @ user5 it’s someone on the grid

user7 Ughhh I can’t wait for this weekend😩👏

user8 Is this the sound of my parasocial relationship crackling?

user9 WHO IS THAT?

user10 Ten bucks it’s Charles

user11 I’ll take that action. Ten it’s Lando

sportsgossip

26,468 likes

sportsgossip someone spotted a certain tennis player with a certain Red Bull driver… anonymous tip! Seems like someone is over George already…

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user1 Wtf WHEN WAS THIS?

user2 Her recent post…😭

user3 MAX? WHAT😃

user4 I kinda love that omg

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 668,378 others

maxverstappen1 Just appreciating the view❤️

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yourusername Conveniently free this weekend

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landonorris I’m living for this shade

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user1 George is absolutely shitting himself rn I just know

user2 She traded a rookie for a world champion

user3 I respect it

user4 I love that Max is subtly hinting that George didn’t appreciate her as much as he does😭

user5 It’s honestly kinda cute

user6 Shade aside, it really is

user7 George is missing out

user8 Okay but she is GORGEOUS

user9 Can someone give some background info? Why did she and George break up?

user10 Allegedly, George cheated on her with someone he met at a post-race party. She got an anonymous tip about it and they couldn’t seem to work things out I guess… but yeah. Everything is alleged.

user9 Oh okay thanks that’s helpful

yourusername

Liked by charlottesiine, francisca.cgomes, maxverstappen1 and 573,266 others

yourusername This week was just 🤍🤍🤍

Tagged: charlottesiine

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charlottesiine Must do this again🤍

yourusername Agreed🤍

francisca.cgomes Where was I in this🤨

Liked by yourusername

user1 Okay but these two are literally the best friend dynamic ever.

user2 Two pretty best friends… could never be us @ randomuser

user3 I’m genuinely so confused by her relationship status rn but the fact that her and Cha are still friends??? LOVE IT

user4 Here’s me wishing I was a wag or whatever…🧍‍♀️

user5 Relatable

user6 Can’t wait for her to post pics with Max👏

user7 I mean… it isn’t official though. Is it?

user8 I don’t think she will do that unless she also confirms her relationship with him

user6 @ user8 Max already posted her…

user9 I just know she’s friendly

user10 She is! I went to one of her opens and she signed my card of her and gave me a hug. She even offered to stay around for pictures and stuff.

wagsf1

12,289 likes

wagsf1 @ yourusername and @ maxverstappen after his race win🌸

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user1 I’m seriously just wondering HOW George is feeling about all this

user2 Whatever he feels abt it… he deserves it.

user3 George is probably crying in the garage

user4 They’re so cute though😭❤️

user5 They’re my new fav couple on the grid.

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 637,389 others

maxverstappen1 I don’t think I could’ve been luckier than this❤️

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yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

Liked by maxverstappen1

user1 I’m happy she broke things off with George cause this is just so cute

user2 Maybe don’t bring it up in Max’s comments💀💀

user3 I love how he’s acting like they’ve been dating for years😭

user4 I mean… he has EVERY right to

user5 This is what I mean when I say I want to date

user6 Ik they recently started dating but I just know they’re going to last

user7 Max is so dedicated like wtaf😭 We did not see this from George

user8 We really didn’t💀

user9Max talked about her in the most recent post-race interview😭❤️

user10 This relationship is going to set unrealistic standards for me😭😭😭

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlottesiine, francisca.cgomes and 738,267 others

yourusername Another win added to my collection🎾🔥 Kind of like you @ maxverstappen1

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charlottesiine I should have seen it live! You were amazing🤍

yourusername ugh I love you

user1 YESSS👏

user2 She’s an icon

user3 Fav wag and fav tennis player

user4 George is MISSING OUTTTT

user5 Wimbledon win upcoming🔥

user6 Manifesting it🙏

user7 Her and Max stacking up wins is a new form of couple goals I haven’t seen before. I love it.

user8 Literally

user9 She’s so pretty❤️

user10 Max is lucky

maxverstappen1 posted a new story

yourusername posted a new story

maxverstappen1

Liked by yourusername, landonorris, christianhorner and 587,399 others

maxverstappen1 Taking a break from reality❤️

Tagged: yourusername

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yourusername ❤️

landonorris Now I know who you’ve been ditching me for

yourusername know your place

landonorris @ yourusername 🤨🤨🤨

user1 So it’s official then

user2 I don’t know who I’d rather be😩

user3 We never saw this content with George🤡

user4 Max and her are the definition of a perfect couple omfg

user5 They’re so cute wtf

yourusername

Liked by maxverstappen1, charlottesiine, lilymhe and 573,295 others

yourusername Should I start curling my hair more often?✨

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charlottesiine You’re already gorgeous but that hair is so cute🥰

Liked by yourusername

maxverstappen1 You’re beautiful no matter what you do with your hair❤️

Liked by yourusername

user1 FABULOUS YET AGAIN😮‍💨

user2 I would leave my current relationship for her

user3 She’s so Lana coded and I love it

user4 She’s just so tennis coded and old money and I’m in loveeee

user5 The fact that SHE was cheated on?🧍‍♀️

user6 Puts things into perspective

user7 I’ve come to realize that it doesn’t matter how pretty you are anymore😭💀

user8 I’m literally buying tickets to her next game so I can shove marriage papers in her face

user9 I’ll beat you to it

user10 Why Max… why not me😐

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻…

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩! (𝙄𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣, 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙬𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨, 𝙙𝙢𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨: 𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧(𝙨) 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚(𝙨) 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙗𝙚 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣.)

#fanfiction #fanfic #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #reader insert #fluff #f1 max verstappen #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #red bull f1 #f1 instagram au #instagram fanfic #insta au #red bull max #emma raducanu #george russell

[sunlit-haruka]

Ranking all of the Milgram Birthday Outfits on a scale of 1/10 because it's 3AM over here and I have to do school things at 6 (Inspired by this video) ↓

Already off to an incredibly strong start, because as we know, Haruka is perfect and can do no wrong. Dog? Little sister? Who's that? Sounds like a myth honesty. Alright, jokes and Haruka bias aside, very nice ! Relatively plain all things considered, but that's quite fitting for Haruka (I mean, have you seen how this kid dresses normally? I'm somewhat surprised that he didn't go for a full white look. Wonder if Muu helped him out when choosing his pieces) I also love the color blue, so bonus points for that. (shut up I know I just said I would ignore biases) Overall, I give Haruka Sakurai a 8/10 !! Lookin' good, buddy ! ↓

Yuno looks so pretty and the outfit is SO cute !! I love the frilliness of the shirt, the pleated skirt is really cute and in general I love the shades of pink chosen for this outfit, and those SHOEEEES girl where did you get those give me name and address. I honestly have no complaints at all I give Yuno Kashiki a 10/10 !! Absolutely gorgeous girl !! (Also it's unfortunate we're only ranking the outfits and not the cakes, because the decision to give Yuno a fucking staircase cake was genius) ↓

...Mannn, I wish I could say I liked this outfit so badly. The outfit itself is alright, if a bit basic, and Fuuta looks very handsome ! But I can't help but feel like black would've been a better choice for him than dark brown. And Fuuta...my guy...WHY those shoes? I could've maybe forgiven the outfit colors if you didn't decide to pair them with shiny gold...sneakers? What the hell even are those? Get better shoes, man. Overall, I'm giving Fuuta Kajiyama a 4/10. I like the outfit it'self (minus the shoes), but the coloring brings it down a lot for me. ↓

Christ, no wonder Muu got model deals ! Look at this queen right here !! She looks absolutely gorgeous, the dress is beautiful and I love the Beauty And The Beast inspiration. The earrings being inspired by an hourglass is a very cool detail, and the heels look great as well ! I genuinely don't think I have any faults with this one Muu Kusunoki gets a 10/10 ! Nice job dressing to impress ! ↓

One chance Mr. Kirisaki, one cha-- Ahem. As I was saying, Shidou looks amazing in this outfit !! I'm usually not a fan of there being so much white on it's own (I sound like a certain horror fanatic, sheesh.) But Shidou reallly rocks it, and the purple accents are very nice in comparison !! I also really like the shoes for some reason. Shidou is being added to the list also consisting of Muu and Yuno where I need to see who their shoemaker is For Shidou Kirisaki, I give a 9/10 !! Very pretty man. ↓

Mahiru looks very pretty here ! I love the poofy hair accessory, and the birdcage earrings are a very nice touch. That being said however...the dress is a bit too plain for me. I cannot help but feel like something is missing here that would make the overall outfit look way better. A sash maybe? Despite that though, Mahiru Shiina gets a 6/10 !! Looking ready for a date !  ↓

Ooooh...Kazui stans forgive me, but I'm pretty indifferent to this outfit. It's not bad mind you ! Kazui looks very handsome in it, and I like the blue chosen for his tie. But it's the same problem with Mahiru where I feel like it's a bit too plain and could've used something more, like a pattern on his vest or pants. Also though his shoes aren't the atrocity that is Fuuta's, I feel like a black or even a dark blue akin to Haruka would've looked a lot better in comparison to the rest of his outfit. Kazui Mukuhara is granted a 5/10. Not the best, not the worst. Sorry old man. ↓

AHHH SHE LOOKS SO CUTE !! It's like if the frilliness from Yuno's outfit was upped to twenty ! Amane's dress is adorable and looks very comfortable as well, I want a bigger sized version for myself. I also really like her big bow, as well as the blue shoes. But most importantly, Amane seems to be genuinely happy wearing it, and as a fandom, Amane's happienss takes priority. Amane Momose, you'll be getting a 9/10 from me ! Good on ya, kid ! ↓

Ahhh, he's so cute ! Look at how polite he looks ! The blazer is nice, and also blue. Blue bias. And the boots absolutely fucking SLAY. The way his hair is styled looks very nice as well ! I also think this is the closest we have gotten to official art of Mikoto smiling genuinely, and I personally think we need more. And more. And more. Mikoto Kayano gets a 10/10 !! Very cute boy ! ↓

Ma'am, I politely and respectfully ask you to break my neck mercilessly-- Ahem. As I was saying. KOTOKO LOOKS FUCKING AMAZING !! The undershirt oh my god the FUCKING UNDERSHIRT !! Absolutely adore it so much. The colors are all very pleasing to the eye, the skirt is very cute, and the heels look cool as hell !! But Kotoko also looks cool as hell in anything, so is this really fair? Kotoko Yuzuriha has obtained a 10/10 ! Absolutely gorgeous.

#haru chats about milgram #milgram #milgram project #haruka sakurai #sakurai haruka #milgram haruka #yuno kashiki #kashiki yuno #milgram yuno #fuuta kajiyama #kajiyama fuuta #milgram fuuta #muu kusunoki #kusunoki muu #milgram muu #shidou kirisaki #kirisaki shidou #milgram shidou #mahiru shiina #shiina mahiru #milgram mahiru #kazui mukuhara #mukuhara kazui #milgram kazui #amane momose #momose amane #milgram amane #mikoto kayano #kayano mikoto #milgram mikoto

[l3viat8an]

HWAAAAHHH HEY ROOOOO ♡

A not so quick thought I've been dying to shareeeee ahhhhh

Omg- so yk how Mc has that long table in their room??? Imagine setting up a craft station each week for the boys to do a lil craft.

Beel, Asmo, Dia, Simeon and Luke are super excited for crafting. Barbie, Mamms and Levi are excited too even if they won't admit it. But Luci, Satan and Belphie need a little bit of convincing. They're not children! But after your first successful chaotic crafting session they start to like it.

𖥸 Luci is surprisingly artistic. Even if it seems silly, this little crafting session is very relaxing and it gives him time to bond with his brothers. He likes to follow the model closely first before experimenting a little bit with his technique and style

𖥸 Mamms + Levi are trying to 1 up each other the whole time. They will hate on each other's projects and will fight over supplies. Mammon will swipe the scissors from Levi mid-cut even though there are 5 other pairs currently not being used. Then Levi will try to get them back and a fight will break out. Mc has to use "stay" before Levi summons Lotan.

𖥸 Satan bbg I'm so sorry. He will make something beautiful that he's proud of but it will get ruined. He'll just be putting the finishing touches on his craft when Levi and Mammon's fight will cause something to ruin it. A paint cup got knocked over and now there's paint water soaking his hard work. Or the glitter got spilled and now there's sparkly bits clinging to the undried glue. Mc is gonna have to use "stay" again to keep him from wringing his older brothers' necks.

𖥸 Asmo's crafts can be described in one word. Shiny. He's using all the glitter, gold leaf and sequins available to him. He especially likes those gold and silver detailing pens. But don't mistake sparkly for tacky because even if his crafts are sparkly they are still tasteful.

𖥸 Beel + Belphie will make adorable little projects but Beel will try to eat the supplies duh. Please for the love of Dia get the nontoxic supplies. He can't help it though. That shade of pink looks just like a poison strawberry tart and the colors Simeon mixed look exactly like Madam Scream's Macarons! He just wants a little taste. Belphie will be busy trying to stop him from drinking paint. If he keeps a few extra snacks on hand then it will keep Beel at bay.

𖥸 Diavolo is just absolutely enamored by all the cool crafts. Like woah you made that little scarecrow!? And you made a pom pom pumpkin? He's so excited to try out all the crafts and is that one weirdo that is absolutely covered in 8 different colors of paint somehow even though he only used white.

𖥸 Barbatos will also create the most gorgeous crafts. Like excuse me sir, you're telling me you made that out of construction paper, pipe cleaners and popsicle sticks???? There ain't no way. 100% the chillest crafter at the table but he will snap Mammon and Levi's necks if any of the mishaps of their fight ruins his project.

𖥸 Simeon and Luke will probably work together on a craft. Like Asmo's projects, Simeon and Luke will add lots of pastel colors and shiny bits to their project mostly in the form of gold flakes or those metalic paint pens.

𖥸 Solomons crafts are similar to his cooking. They never end up being what was intended. Like today we're making kites and - Uhhh Solomon made an abstract Mona Lisa with construction paper shapes?? Alright then... You do you man

HIIII CHERRY!!! Omgg okay- this is all so cute <3 finally giving that silly table a good use too jsjsjsj besides homework 💀

Lucifer being good at everything doesn’t even surprise me anymore- but he’s genuinely very into it and it’s nice to see him try to relax and do something with his brother that’s just for fun!!!

Mammon + Levi- I wouldn’t expect anything else honestly- those two can’t stop for five minutes and they almost ruin it for everyone. (Until MC calms them down and fixes everything) also the fact Levi’s better at traditional drawing them Mammon is probably another reason they fight hskshsj

Poor Satan. Tho depending on how annoying Levi & Mams have been it might be fine to let Satan smack them up a bit- jkjk bad idea ik- MC needs to help him calm down and maybe start a new project together? (That’ll at least perk Satan up and piss off Levi ‘n Mammon which again will make Satan feel better :))

The first thing Asmo used was a pick glitter gel pen and his artwork is absolutely gorgeous~ (definitely something super shiny!!! but still gorgeous and he’s careful to stay at the other end of the table away from Levi and Mammon helpsjsj)

All the supplies have to be non-toxic and absolutely no one can try drawing or making anything resembling food- Also just imagine Belphie taking the paint water away from Beel and putting it by his drink….so a little later sleepyhead accidentally drink some instead lolol also anything Belphie actually makes looks like it’s out of a horror movie while Beel’s is just…abstract :)

Diavolo’s feels like a callout as the kid who was always covered in paint but he’s so happy with his little somewhat lumpy pompom and little painting!! Just look at his sweet smile!!!

Barbatos doesn’t even need to threaten Mammon or Levi- they take one look his way and see that smile and know they better knock it off and behave- also how??? Sir it’s gorgeous but how??? Hell he probably made a fully functioning little model of MC XD

Simeon and Luke are adorable as always!! It’s definitely something sweet, yet a little more simple, but still very cute! The shiny bits are perfect and they definitely made it with the intention of gifting it to MC when they’re done <3

Solomon……Solomon wtf why?….you could’ve drawn a stick man and it would’ve been better that…uhhh that- But he’s happy!! Also very, very proud of it and when you ask what it’s supposed to be he looks a little offended-

#awhwhwhw I loved this sm <3 #not a super crafty bitch myself but with these dummies it would be ✨fun✨ #obey me! #obey me #om! #obmswd #obey me fluff #om! fluff #obmswd fluff #obey me shall we date #obey me shenanigans #obey me headcanons #om! hcs #om! headcanons #obmswd hcs #obmswd headcanons #ro rambles #moot mail!

[apollos-olives]

i really liked hearing you talking about the geography of the west bank. id love to hear more about what you love about palestine if you want to talk about it. if not i hope u have a good day! i’m sorry anons are being so weird to you and i hope this ask doesn’t cross any boundaries

i've talked about a lottt of different things i love about palestine, but i can talk a bit more about the old city in nablus if you'd like :)

the old city is where you go if you want to find anything and everything. there are hundreds of shops and vendors and you get to meet so many different people and experience so many different things, it's so cool. over the shops and buildings are decorations and long cloths and banners that are colored in so many different ways, and they provide shade on hot days and sometimes the colors reflect off of the buildings and the ground so everywhere you go you're engulfed in bright and beautiful colors as you walk through the streets.

you can find a lot of different shops there, and they usually have huge portions of their products on display so you can pick and choose personally and serve yourself on what you'd like to buy. people who sell spices or nuts have HUGE bags of them and you get to grab a plastic kilo bag and fill up as much as you'd like. people who sell candy and gummies do the same thing, so you get to choose however much you want to fill up your bag. my family almost never is able to eat gummies where we live because it's not halal, so whenever we're in palestine we fill up kilos upon kilos of gummies in bags so we can take them back home and eat them :)) my uncle says the gummies they sell in palestine aren't halal either but whatever man where is the whimsy 😔😔 let us have this. the last time my dad went, he came back with a kilo bag of gummies after i asked him to bring some when he returned, so for months i kept the bag of gummies and slowly ate them. i finished the bag a while ago but i loveeeee gummies and whenever i find ones i'm allowed to eat, i'm very excited about it. i cannot escape my inner child.

there are many refreshments that you can find too. in the summers lots of vendors sell ice cream and slushies (as most places do, i assume) and different juices, one of them is 'tamar hindi' which is a drink you'll often see around ramadan and eid. there are stores that sell different pickled vegetables in barrels, and they'll even let you take some out directly and eat them so you can taste and choose which ones you prefer. of course there are lots of food places, but ohhhh my god there was one shawarma place in nablus that i went to that had the BEST shawarma i've ever eaten in my life. like by FAR it was one of the most delicious things i've ever eaten in my entire life and i'm not exaggerating. i yearn for a shawarma as good as the one i had in nablus. wallahi it was genuinely mind blowing. yall don't understand how good it was. i cry and sob over it all the time.

you can also find lots of clothes!! from our traditional palestinian abayas to modern t-shirts, you can find tons. a lot of the stuff that is sold in palestinian territories is bootleg, because real brands are hard to find their way in through the occupation. because of that, some of the more "modern" stuff is really low quality. i bought a belt from the old city and only was able to wear it once before it literally crumbled in my hands. it CRUMBLED. for 50 shekel too 😭😭😭 absolute shame. that's why i think it's more reliable to buy the traditional stuff, like tatreez designs, because at least that stuff is actually real.

there are jewlery shops too!! they're full of gorgeous designs and you can often find evil eye jewelry in a lot of places. i absolutely love the evil eye design and i have a lotttt of evil eye jewelry. some muslims disapprove though, but whatever. i just think it looks nice. i like its meaning too. interesting stuff to me.

palestinians use different types of currencies too!! we often use the israeli shekel, but that's slowly becoming out of use 🤷‍♂️ but we also use the jordanian dinar, and we even use american dollars, usd, to buy stuff.

OH LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT THE KNAFEH SHOP !! nablus is famous for knafeh. we're like. THE knafeh city. there's a very VERY famous old white-bearded man who owns the famous knafeh shop of nablus and you can almost always find him every day making knafeh. his place always has a huge amount of people there, watching him as he makes the knafeh right in front of them and then serves it out to everyone. genuinely THE knafeh of all time. him and his knafeh are a very cherished part of our city.

i'm sure there are MANY more things i can go on about, but i hope this was interesting to you! thank you for asking :)

#palestine

[greeenchrysanthemums]

Appearances for the GG rivals au character.

I am no artist, so these will simply be written descriptions with a few images thrown in here and there. These are all subject to change at any time, as well, since this is still in its early planning stages.

For Gem, I imagine she looks a lot like in this gorgeous fanart, except her dress has slits up the side to allow for easier movement and her hair is a low bun with a braid wrapping around the front of her head, like this.

Scott and Impulse wear armour similar to how applestruda draws it in her au, with their cloths in shades of teal and yellow. Scott, I like to imagine, has long, back length hair, that he wears down and covering one eye. Impulse has shortly cropped hair and two little nubby horns that are tipped in black, as well as sharp clawed hands. Scott's teeth are sharp; no one quite knows why.

Grian's eyes are entirely black like a barn owl's and his hands end in sharp talons rather than nails. He doesn't have wings, not anymore at least. He wears a high collared red tunic and brown trousers, but both are rarely seen past the heavy, ankle length, black cloak he hides himself under, which is held closed by a silver brooch in the shape of an eye. The cloak has a hood but he never wears it. He always seems to be sliming, whether that smile is devious or genuine is up for debate. The brooch looks something like this, minus the blue center and the circlular details

Scar wears a similar black cloak, held closed by the same brooch, though he wears his with the hood up, and it has red flower detailing on the hem (so, similiar to his secret life look but its a full cloak). His eyes are still green, though, and he has a single grey streak in his brown hair. His tunic and trousers under the cloak are both black and he wears his shirt just a little bit too open at the top. He also always wears a smile, but pretty much everyone can agree it is deceptively kind.

Mumbo and Etho wear matching outfits, claiming it is professional since they share a job, but it is something they choose to do not something that is required of them (they are just silly, really). I imagine they are simple outfits consisting of white tunics with black trousers and thick, leather aprons on top (mumbo's is red and etho's is green). They both wear goggles and thick gloves, as well as chunky boots, all for safety since they work with explosives. Etho wears a black bandana on his lower his face. His goggles replace his headband in this look, being what keeps his hair out of his face. His scared eye is missing entirely; he does not have a false eye, it is just an empty socket. Mumbo wears his goggles around his neck when they are not on his face.

Bdubs dresses similarly, minus the apron and goggles, since he works out in the garder. His shirt is white, and he has brown trousers. Over that he wears a thick cloak that is almost always covered in some manner of flora and/or mud. He completes the look with a wide brimmed hat to protect him from the sun.

Cleo is also dresses similarly to Etho and Mumbo but her apron is a plain brown that is stained with soot. Her tunic sleeves are always rolled up to show off her strong arms and she doesn't wear her safety gloves nearly as much as she should, and she forgoes eye protection entirely. One of her eyes is missing (surprisingly not related to the lack of protective wear), replaced with a glass eye of a slightly different shade of green than her organic eye. Her hair is pulled into a much messier bun than Gem's, with frizzy stray hairs going every direction.

Ren and Martyn look like how they are typically drawn in third life fanart. Ren's eyes are red, as well as blood shot, and he almost always appears angry.

Pearl wears a white tunic with flared sleeves tucked into a pair of high waisted black trousers. Over this she has a deep, red cloak that stops at her waist. She has a crescent moon shaped birth mark on the left side of her face. She carries a sword around her waist. Her hair is always down and messy under her hood.

Bigb just looks like a baker, I am not sure how to describe it. But he always seems to have flour stains on his clothes no matter how hard he tries to wipe it off. Big strong arms for him as well.

Skizz wears the same armour as Scott and impulse, and his underclothes are black. The sleeves of his tunic are ripped off and he does not wear his gauntlets. He refuses to elaborate on why. He is a dove avian.

Tango wears a short sleeved red tunic and black trousers with big chunky boots. His hands are clawed, and his ears are pointed; both are tipped in a red to black gradient. His eyes are entirely red. He has a long tail that ends in a tuff of fire that doesn't seem to have any real heat.

Jimmy wears a blue tunic with a brown vest over it. Brown trousers and chunky boots. His sleeves are always rolled up and he is always covered in some manner of dirt, both because of the work he does on the farm, and from being very clumsy. He has bull horns, one of which is chipped. He also has a tail.

I still don't have set roles for joel and lizzie just yet so they do not have designs in mind either, unfortunately.

#GG rivals au #geminitay #grian #hermitcraft #life series

[velvetmud]

the met gala pics of pedro in that shade of red??? vampire he's a vampire. when he's torturing the silver lake guys and says the very gentle/terrifying "it's okay, I believe him" — i want that tone of voice as he drinks from you and soothes you through it, and while he’s drinking you you’re riding his cock

I go so all out with an idea that I have genuinely no idea how to make it short when I’m fired up ohhhh my god but this hit different. bless bless tho this idea fucking hit 11/10

warning(s): 18+ explicit, blood, daddy kink, dirty talk, smoking, drinking, passing out, generally dark vibes. you’ve been forewarned

-

he was drawn to you. the rapid thump thump thump thump of your heartbeat taunts him from across the bar.

it’d be humanly impossible for anyone else obtaining the same delight of smelling the pheromones dripping off of you in beads of sweat, coming down your chest - but that’s just it. joel wasn’t human.

he’s spent a good portion of his time in recent years bored and unsatisfied by himself. these days bar hopping in hopes to meet a woman to bite and drink and fuck became his new favorite pass time.

he eyes you sipping a fruity drink through a dainty straw. chewing on the melting cubes of ice. daring red lipstick leaving a stain around the tip after each sip. he wonders what it would look like if you smeared your lips all over the base of his dick. a grin crept on his face when he also notes it’s the very same color as the coat he has on.

god, and that fucking neck.

there’s over a million ways to turn a vampire on, given they have as simple of taste as joel does. seeing a gorgeous naked neck that just begs his teeth to sink into—nothing could ever get him pounding so fast. now you’re laughing at something one of your girl friends say, throwing your head back and stretching it out. almost mocking him.

joel’s intent stare doesn’t leave you as he took the last swig of thick whiskey remaining in his glass. settles himself down a little bit. the last thing he needs is for his teeth to come out in public, or coming on too strong. before he has a chance to flag the bartender down to order you something, he knows when it’s your scent coming closer. that steady growing thump thump thump of your pulse got even louder—

“hey there,” you greet him, cheeky as you flop down onto the chair right next to his. the space is squished enough that your knees brush each others. although taken aback by the pleasant surprise, he can’t believe it being as easy as dangling a carrot in front of a bunny.

“couldn’t help notice this coat actually matched my lipstick. thought to myself maybe I’d try and buy the man a drink,” you propose.

he loves just how easy you’ve made this for him.

joel decides his next move as if he were playing chess. his pale fingers crept over to your hand resting beneath the table, hovering for a moment before finally joining them together.

you feel the flashy gold pinky ring that shined in the light, figuring that must’ve cost him a kidney as he stroked the back of your hand. once he leans down in your ear, he can’t help himself but inhale the scent. licks his lips, he really isn’t fucking lying when he says —

“well sweet girl, I was gettin’ pretty thirsty over here. m’glad you asked. ”

-

two rounds of drinks he pays for later, you’re both drunk putty in each other’s arms. dancing on the lines somewhere between reckless and buzzed. making an obnoxious exit wrapped around one another, determined to get back to his. joel might’ve been tipsy, but he knows he’s got nine good hours of dark until dawn inevitably came.

he gets his lips on yours in the backseat of a cab. your lips felt so soft and cruel against his. the way your lipstick smears around his own lips makes it all the more thrilling. unbothered by the driver’s presence, he moans hungrily once he sees his chance and latches right onto your neck, like an addict’s relief after finally getting his fix. containing himself for when he’ll get to break the skin and taste the crimson running down his tongue.

you prop a thigh up and lock him in, running your fingers through his slicked back hair. ruining it. joel suckles on your neck with unquenched thirst, already working on a third hickey once the driver pulls up in front of joel’s flat. it took longer than it should have to realize the vehicle was no longer moving, as pissed as the driver might’ve been, but you’re both void of any shame.

as you both skip inside, unable to pull any limbs away, he practically has to kick open his front door.

the personality of the interior intrigues you as he welcomes you in. the vintage art crowding the walls, the sixties and seventies themed furniture, the red velvety comforter of the master bed. you also couldn’t help the curious eye at all of his blackout curtains. you don’t get the chance to start the question before he predicted you’d ask, telling you he just likes keeping it dark.

he wipes the puzzled look off your face when he goes in to grab your chin and smash his lips back down on yours, this time around not containing anything now that you both have the privacy.

“smell so good to me, angel. couldn’t focus on nothing else—fuck I ain’t getting enough. need to see you some more. let’s get those arms up, take this off, yeah. there she is. my precious fucking girl.”

he showers you in pet names and praise. that nose stayed buried in your neck, marveling at the skin. nipping gently and sucking the red skin, pulling back to admire his work and watch the mark turn purple. the vibrating beat of your pulse so close put him in a trance. one other greedy hand snakes down and began pinching and twisting your nipples. with there being no need to conceal any of your own thoughts and noises, you hum his obscenities right back at him, fueling his desires. when you whine in his ear for him to fuck you, he laughs and guides your back to fall down on those velvety sheets.

“mhm, just relax for me little one. lay back, let daddy do the work.”

judging by your squirming, you really like that.

still sticking to his mission, he slowly claws at your remaining clothes with intent. in the soft candle light of his room, you’re giddy once you spot the evidence of your lips still all over him. it doesn’t seem to bother him in the slightest, it looked like red was even his favorite color.

his kisses get longer and wetter once he’s met the insides of your thighs, moving to your gushing outer lips. with a possessive grip, he squeezes your thighs in the palms of his hands and damn near salivates after you spread for him.

“prettiest pussy I’ve eaten in a long, long time.” he sighs. effortlessly raising your knees up to hook around his shoulders. his mouth waters and his teeth threaten to show as he lifts your hood up with his thumb. if he couldn’t see in the dim light, he’d be able to hear how ready you’ve been. “oh yeah. this is wet. is this pussy begging to sit on a cock already baby?” he taunts, smoothing the pad of his finger in between to listen to the lewd glide it makes. his stubborn dick bobs around, still helplessly trapped in his pants.

“take yours off too, daddy,” you plead, weakly pulling at the collar of his button up.

joel exhaled through his nose, still holding onto a great deal of self control even if you insist on breaking him down to itty bitty pieces. he prods himself up onto his knees, keeping those legs wrapped around him like a necklace before he gives you further instruction. “I’ll get the rest, but you need to unbutton this for me, angel, use those fingers.”

with haste fingers and patience worn thin, you manage to tear open the shirt while your feet rest on his shoulders. he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss each one as you finished up, his broad naked chest out in the open.

“good girl. spread those legs again for me.”

the shirt and pants that were previously in the way have now been carelessly flung to the ground by his arms. he eagerly nestles his head back down, guiding you to lay back again and let him continue drinking you up.

your pathetic pleas get muffled into the pillows beside you, your head thrashing back and forth like a fish out of water. if it was another woman, concealing all her squealing and howling like a bitch in his pillow, it wouldn’t phase him as much. but he fed off seeing all of your faces, pouting and scrunching up in beautiful ways with every swirl of his tongue on your clit.

“c’mon baby, stay with me, keep those pretty eyes on daddy. like when I can see those little faces you make.”

joel’s condescending tone doesn’t allow any room for opposition. with a nervous swallow, you obey. your reward for listening is instantaneous, because the tongue between your legs doesn’t relent, doesn’t resist once he has you right where he needs you.

he butters you up further to the point where you aren’t getting scared off by his experiments pushing the boundaries. gets harsher biting and nipping on your inner thighs when his fingers take to occupying you. he sees just how far gone you are, how you’ve creamed all over his fingers. you can’t even help closing your eyes again anymore despite his wishes. this time he lets you drift off and wallow in pleasure. you rigorously grind up and down to fuck every inch of his digits, distracted and immersed.

nothing could stop him anymore. now he wants to show his teeth.

wants to feast with his teeth.

joel’s fangs unsheathe from the upper corners of his gums with a clench of his jaw while you’re above him. oblivious. his tongue takes it easy on the meat of your thigh at first before slowly sinking his sharp teeth right into the meat of your thigh, drawing out some small drops of blood from the poke.

he groans like you’re the first happy meal he’s ever tasted. savors the little droplets of red beading from your skin, kitten licking to soothe the blow. fuck.

you’ve snapped your head up after feeling an unfamiliar pinch.

“w-what was—“

the bite he made still pearled more drops of blood and he catches it with his finger, sucking it into his mouth.“shhh, it’s okay baby. you’re fine. you’re okay.”

before you could ask any more questions he plunged another finger in you and fucks you with it. the pain immediately forgotten, you fall back into riding his fingers as he licks his leftovers.

“shit, I’m in for a treat. alright baby girl, m’gonna give you what you need. sit up for daddy. that’s right, pretty girl.”

he grants his dick a good few pumps from his hand before maneuvering you around to swap places. he lies his head back against the head board and settles you down on top of him.

you thought you catch a flash of sharper teeth when he grins down where you brush your pelvis on his. but you chalk it up to nothing more than imagining things, especially after the drinks you’ve had tonight.

“wanna watch you bounce on it for me. line me up, just like that,” he coached, watching you spread yourself with your fingers to accommodate his girth. he doesn’t stop eyeing your joining bodies like a hawk as you finally start to sink down, the head of his dick disappearing in your warmth. you close your eyes and breathe, slamming all the way down and surprising the two of you.

knocking the wind out of joel, he stutters and growls before tilting your face close to his.

“what a good girl, taking it all in one go—shit honey, that’s it.”

the sight alone of your bouncing chest as you rode up and down without mercy made joel wish he could fuck you like this in the sunlight. study every bump and curve and freckle on your body.

your neck extends just for him when he trails his thumb down to smoothe circles on your clit. he doesn’t miss the opportunity to dive right in, starting innocent to ease you through it. rough lips sucking and nibbling down. harmless at first.

his lap is drenched with your juices, filling you up with each pump of your hips relentlessly fucking him up and down. the trail of kisses followed the bone of your jaw, moving right up to your ear to whisper:

“want’chu to take a deep breath for me, baby girl. there we go.”

you’re too blissed out on his dick to ask questions, moaning out his name and holding tight onto his broad shoulders. joel can feel the vibration in your throat, every noise you make, amplified. your heart skips a beat once he plunged his fangs into the thick skin of your neck. he’s cutting deeper this time, instead of the innocent paper cut trail of blood coming from your thighs, it’s a stream that steadily gushes down to your chest.

the animal in him bursts out of the cage once the flow hit his tastebuds. he grasps your back to keep your body on him when you wail out of shock. the initial sting forced a scream out from you, but he just greedily keeps on drinking.

“f-fuck, what is that…. are you…?”

he shushes you some more, pulling back for the first time and moving your hair to the side. you see his mouth drenched in more red, but it’s sure as shit not from your lipstick.

“knew you’d taste sweet,” he murmurs, voice hoarse as he goes back in to kitten lick your wounds. he sucks down the drying trail of blood that made its way down your breast. he pants and sweats enough to sound like he just ran a marathon before looking down at the skin of your neck and then right back to your eyes. “you’ll feel so good, promise. just need to keep going. don’t stop riding, princess.”

your confusion muddles with arousal. the glimpse of what could’ve been fangs when he smiled down at you, the stabbing pain on your neck and thighs, the freaky black out curtains, not to mention his obsession with kissing your neck.

you’re dizzy as the world around you starts to fog. he sees how weakened you’ve become and takes over, bouncing your tired body up and down with his arms hugging around your waist. he couldn’t resist going back in to take another long bite on the neglected side of your bruised neck, drinking right from your flesh. more spills down while he shakes you awake to rub your clit.

“that’s it, stay awake and cum for daddy.”

you don’t know how he’s managed to still make you cum this hard while only being half conscious, but you’ve made an even bigger mess on his groin.

that was the final straw and he can’t take it anymore. he bites down on the first mark he made between your ear and your shoulder just one last time. he doesn’t hold back his own animalistic sounds, roaring deep down from his chest while his cum floods the mess of your blood.

as you both come down, he still takes some time to catch his own breath as he gently moved your boneless body to lie down next to him. he reckons you’ll either go through a little hell or just go to sleep. wake up as his own little vamp, pestering him to get fed. he can’t help it, he smiles when he really starts to imagine it.

propping up an arm to support the back his head, he extends the other arm to his night stand and fetched himself a cigarette. after puffing on it for a few moments, he noticed how he’s already left behind his own stain on the butt of it from your combined remanents of blood and lipstick all over his mouth.

-

up to you if she just d!3d or if he turned her then they live happily ever after and drink tons more people together. your pick!

this was honestly so fun to write, more dark au’s might be another route I’ll take in the future. lemme know if you get that appeal too :)

masterlist + buy me a ko-fi

#joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller/reader #the last of us #joel miller x f!reader #tlou fanfic #pedro pascal #tw daddy kink #anon

[butmakeitgayblog]

So we know CI Clarke like to nibble nibble on Lexa whenever wherever. But are there any instances where she’s literally latched on her coz of something her wife did or say that’s just too adorable?

There's plenty of times in their day to day where Lexa is simply too cute, too gorgeous for words and Clarke quite literally just wants to eat her up. Her secret little pair of reading glasses or the way she smacks her lips in her sleep, the way she gets broody and tucks her face into Clarke's neck when she isn't feeling well. The way she can volley between curtious and so fucking rude it'd make your eyes water, the way she scrunches her nose up at something she finds so tacky she can't even begin to contain herself.

There's just so many shades of Lexa, and each one is perfectly wonderful, and extremely biteable 😌

But also, the thing with Lexa is that she's not a particularly outwardly vocal person about her feelings. She's not a partner who says "I love you" often, because she prefers to show it in her actions. Words are too easy to fake. And she's not the kind of person who uses pet names in a genuine sense (beyond Darling) very often, because she loves Clarke's name. The sound of it, the taste of it, the way it makes her feel knowing that name and that girl belong to her, every bit as much as she belongs to it. So she uses it.

So when it comes to Lexa, it's always in the quiet moments that Clarke has learned to listen for the big things. To recognize big moments that really show all the thoughts and feelings that have sat tidy behind the veil of Lexa's carefully crafted indifference.

Because those are the moments when Lexa will turn to her and say something that just... knocks the absolute fucking wind out of her. A random Saturday morning that feels so mundane her past self would cry in agony just at the thought of it, silently drinking their coffees and sharing pain au chocolat that the cook made fresh that morning. Reading or scrolling their phones while ignoring each other's incessant yawning and absently running hands along each other's back, still stiff from sleep.

Those are always the times when Lexa will just let the veil drop to Clarke's "What are you thinking?" with a thoughtful and slowly hummed, "That I'm happy... That... if one day I had no memory of my life, I'd never want to forget this. I think I'd be fine not remembering one single other thing about myself. Except you. And us. Just like this... I'd want you to always tell me stories about this."

It's bizarre and seemingly out of nowhere, but that's why it's so perfectly Lexa in that in way, and truthfully, how is Clarke expected to do anything other than physically attack her wife with nibbles, bites, and kisses that leave the kind of marks that make sure she wont forget? Can't forget. At least not for the rest of the day.

#anon #cruel intentions au #does earn her very stern admonishments about “crumbs clarke!” and “i— you're child— you're making me spill my coffee!”? #yes #but does that all come through her stupidly and offensively pretty smile while Lexa lets her do whatever she wants anyway? #also yes

[callsign-bunnie]

so we talked about this and I always make true on my threats

Please give us the funny coming out story they all have!! We’re they called out??? Did someone walk in on a heavy make out session???

I'm gonna answer these in character

Soap: "So, I actually came out to Price, once, and he just kind of stood there and for a moment I was solidly worried that he may have been homophobic. So I was sweating, right? This man looks me dead in my eyes and goes 'Goddamnit, Mactavish, I fucking know already. You're a whore! I've heard so many damn stories of you hooking up with half the fucking barracks. If you didn't have the damn tags, I'd call you a tag chaser.' So, yeah. Wasn't homophobic, but did slut shame me. I'm sure it was meant affectionately"

Ghost: "I've never came out. I just mention past male partners and no one is shocked. Wondering if I should be offended or not."

Rodolfo: "I have also never came out. Do I have to? I joined the military for one man, stayed for one man, got well known for being entirely loyal to one man... I sound pathetic. Anyway- Oh, wait, I did have to come out to said man. He told me I should flirt with this woman at a bar and I will admit to just staring at him in shock for a solid minute and just... kind of quietly going, 'but I'm gay' and he looked so confused. I have to admit, it made me feel a lot better because I genuinely thought he was ignoring my feelings towards him until this point. He looked embarrassed, too."

Alejandro: "I came out to the Vaqueros about five years ago. I was incredibly drunk, which is never good for me, and I walked right up to Rodolfo, I threw my arm around him, and said, very loudly, in front of all my men, that I was 'gay as fuck' and that he was the prettiest boy I'd ever seen in my entire life. I'm loud when I'm sober, I was... LOUD this time. I thought Rodolfo was about to strangle me from how embarrassed he looked. It worked out for me, though, because we got together shortly after and hey, look at us. We're married, now. I guess the lesson here is to always go for it?"

Price: "I come out every damn day, kid. I have to consistently reassert that I'm gay. My entire team should fucking know at this rate but I repeatedly will mention partners and it goes kind of like this: Me: So, I went to a bar last night and I met this guy- Gaz: Guy?! Me: ...yes. I met this guy and we went home Gaz: To do what?! Me: ...To eat cereal, Garrick! The fuck do you think?! We went back to my place to fuck! So, anyway."

Gaz: "I got outed to the entire school. It wasn't particularly funny, but hey, saved me a lot of trouble. My school was fairly supportive, save for some assholes, so I never had to worry about homophobia. My foster parents did find out, though, and yeah that was not fun."

Graves: "We're supposed to come out? Damn, I just... mention it in casual conversation. If they have a problem with it, they can take it up with my gun."

Valeria: "Apparently it was obvious. I went and told Rodolfo, because I was really upset and worried about it and he laughed at me. Worst part was, I didn't even know he could laugh. He said 'you make it fairly obvious' and then mentioned that I talk about women way too much to even have had a thought about hiding it."

Farah: "Haha, I still haven't came out. You either pick it up or you don't. I think it's funny to watch people guess what I mean when I say 'girlfriend'."

Alex: "I also frequently come out. The most notable time being when I came out to the 141, we're all gay I don't understand why I had to do that, and Gaz immediately went 'I have a chance?!' and then covered his face and turned a deep deep shade of red. He didn't talk to me for a week, afterwards, I hope because he was embarrassed, not because he changed his mind."

Laswell: "I came out in college. I was kind of crazy, so I went to a party and at this point, I was trying to get by without anyone knowing and I just- this girl sat in front of me and she was gorgeous. Gorgeous body, her hair sort of bubbled around her head and it would shake when she moved, and she would laugh super loud and big and it was so gorgeous. And I remember I was so drunk that I blurted out of nowhere 'fuck, I'm so gay' and she just started laughing. Anyway, a two for one deal because that's how I met my wife, guys."

Roach: I more got told. When I was 12 this guy came up to me and was like 'you're gay by the way' and then just... walked away. Fucker was right, but goddamn.

#Johnny Soap Mactavish #Simon Ghost Riley #Rodolfo Parra #Alejandro Vargas #John Price #Kyle Gaz Garrick #Phillip Graves #Valeria Garza #Farah Karim #Alex Keller #Kate Laswell #Call Of Duty Modern Warfare II #Call of Duty #Gary Roach Sanderson

[romanoffsbish]

A Blooming Love…

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader (AU)

Inspired by: (hilarious tiktok)

Happy Valentine’s Day Eve 🌸 🥰 (A bonus fic)

R’s love language is flowers, 🥹

Today is the busiest day of the year for you, all morning long you spend in a van, delivering intricate displays of love to strangers through your beautiful bouquets of flowers. Majority of which you leave on doorsteps, or on the front desks of offices, but on the rarest of occasions you get to deliver it directly to their hands. Those types of interactions have always been your favorite, getting to bare witness to the genuine happiness the simple gesture inspires warms your heart beyond measure.

————

You're a local, low end florist, so your order threshold is much smaller than that of say edible arrangements, or 24 hour flowers, but you still make quite a profit on Valentine's Day. The patrons make note of your displays as why, telling you that the others simply couldn't do it the way you did, and you took pride in that.

Knowing that people genuinely appreciated the way you strategically mapped out bouquet's, picking the best pairings based on not only look, but the deeper meaning behind each flower's petals, meant the actual world to you.

For instance, why buy a ring and propose to your lover when you can arrange a bouquet of lilacs and spider flowers to symbolize the desire to elope. It’s cost effective and beautiful.

Have an enemy? Ensure they heed your warning of an impending doom by giving them a lovely bouquet of oleanders and daffodils.

Apart, some flowers meanings are dull, but when paired with others they begin to offer a fuller message, and that is half the fun for you.

At the back of your van is the last of your vases meant to be delivered, you'd started at eight this morning, and now that it's noon you're glad to be done with the business end of things. Now, you're headed off to hand deliver some strategically thought of bouquets to friends, and possibly, the woman who owns your heart.

You knocked on the first door, patiently waiting for the woman to answer, and to your shock an adorable little boy answers it instead., "Auntie Y/N!," his tiny body collapses into yours, nearly sending the vase with the shades of pink and purple Alstroemeria to the ground., "Hello to you too Tommy, where's your mom?"

"You call, and I appear.," Wanda teases as she enters into your field of vision., "Ooh, they're gorgeous Y/N/N, you've outdone yourself."

Wanda swiftly took the vase, and walked it into the kitchen where it now sat in the middle of her dining room table. She came back to promptly pull you into her for a hug, then she slipped a brown paper bag into your hand, and chuckled when you looked to her warily.

"Can't have you fainting on the job Y/N, and we both know you haven't eaten, so enjoy.," she winked at you, but the look in her eyes was sort of reminiscent to that of a concerned mother., "Thanks Wands, you always take such good care of me.," you murmured over the bite of sandwich you'd already started devouring, then you waved at her before taking your leave.

"Don't forget to finally tell her!," the brunette teasingly muttered behind the partially shut door, her hand outstretched to you holding a simple, singular flower, and you couldn't help but to smile up at her as you gently took it., "Good luck today Y/N, call me later with all the details, I look forward to the good news.," and with that she left your awestruck form alone.

Celosia's are gorgeous, frilly flowers that come in many shades, like the red in your hand, and they symbolize boldness, and when handed out it's usually meant to inspire bouts of courage. Wanda was your best friend, and had yet to steer you in the wrong direction before, so you decided that along with her selected flowers, you'd also be exposing your heart to Natasha.

But first, you must deliver the rest of your friends their bouquets, and next on your list is none other than the woman of your affections little sister, Yelena, and her lovely wife—Kate. Yelena was the small town's sheriff, and her wife worked for Natasha's tech company. These two are some of your favorite people, Yelena never fails to cheer you up with a good joke, and Kate doubles down with the comfort.

For Yelena you opted out of a multitude of flowers, she's always been more of a less is more type of gal, so you wanted to respect that. Baptisia is the flower you settled on, it's meant to offer the receiver protection, and with it being a shade of purple you thought it was a cute nod to the woman that she adored most.

Kate's bouquet was meant to inspire fertility, as you knew she was in the process of becoming pregnant, but that there was a bit of struggle. Peonies are meant to inspire such things, so her bouquet was a mix of the many shades.

With a quick knock on their front door you're greeted by a yawning Kate., "Good afternoon Miss Bishop.," you teased, and as expected Yelena rounds the corner to correct., "Belova!"

You smirk., "Oh, my apologies Mrs. Belova.," the couple both look at you, Kate with a fondness, and Yelena with a playful glare., "How might we help you?," the blonde asks, her romantic breakfast now running cold.

"How rude.," you scoffed., "Can't a girl bring her besties their bouquets without judgment?," the blonde simply flipped you off, but then she gently took the vase and assessed the plant.

"Thank you, they're beautiful Y/N.," Yelena remarks, and you see the genuine appreciation flash through her eyes, and then you feel it when Kate tugs you into a tight embrace., "Thank you!," her thanks are muffled by your shirt, and you chuckle softly., "Of course."

"Where to next?," the blonde asks, teasing smirk at the ready., "My sisters perhaps?," she quirked a brow and you only rolled your eyes., "Nope, next is Darcy's, then Monica and Pietro, then.," Yelena waved her hand., "Ok, I get it!"

"Teaches you not to meddle.," you chuckled, then you waved goodbye to your friends.

"Kate Bishop, get your coat, we're going to my sisters.," she squealed with an excited clap of her hands., "Why?!," she deadpanned., "To watch the two idiots finally make their moves, it will be funny—I can almost promise it."

You knew of Natasha far before you ever met the woman, she was once Wanda's boss after your best friend graduated from her university. Now Wanda works remotely as she prefers the luxury of being a stay at home mom to the twins. She'd always tell you stories of her boss, how she was a stern one, but that she was also an understanding one, who led with kindness.

Now you know her, and you have the couple from your last delivery for that, because it was their wedding that brought her into your life. Beforehand she'd only been a passing face, like at Wanda's wedding, or on the shared street of your businesses, but now she's a regular. In your shop, your life, and more so your heart.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

"Yelena, I told you we should've hired a more credible florist, where is she?," Natasha barked at her sister, her foot nervously tapping against the hardwood as if this was her wedding to fuss over., "Natasha, practice patience like Mama always said, your worry lines are deepening."

Natasha's petty response died on her tongue when you suddenly appeared before them, a smidge out of breath, but wearing a warm smile in spite of yourself., "I'm sorry I'm late Miss Belova, but there was an accident on the highway that sent me on a 30 minute detour."

"Yelena.," she annoyedly corrected you., "Don't worry about it Y/N, I expected you by noon, so seeing as how it's barely passed eleven you're well ahead of schedule.," she teasingly replied, then she looked to her watch., "I must rush off to get ready now, I'll leave you with my sister.," she then turned to her sternly., "Play nice."

Natasha watched intently, eyes trained on your every move, if asked she'd say it was for Yelena and Kate's sake, but it was her shameless way to drink you in—you were far more to marvel at, even though your displays were gorgeous.

"Hi...," Natasha sheepishly greets, internally slapping herself at her nervousness, she usually never feels nervous, if anything she's the one who inspire such things, it alludes her on as to how you're doing this to her., "I'm Natasha."

"Oh, I know who you are.," you bite back, but the smirk you hold shows there was no malice., "For starters, you're my best friends old boss, I saw you at her wedding, and to add onto that your building is across from mine, and I do have to say thanks for all of the business."

Natasha stares at you confused, she does remember the wedding, the one where she once again couldn't look away from you, but your other business comment was perplexing., "You're welcome?," she offered, but it came off as a question, and her face confirmed that.

"I end up selling a lot of 'I'm sorry I missed dinner tonight, had to work late' or 'Miss Romanoff needed me to stay, I swear I'm not cheating on you, please don't divorce me' bouquets to your many scared associates."

Natasha laughed, it was the kind of sound that you found yourself yearning to inspire further., "I can keep them even later if you wanted.," and now you were politely chuckling along with her, doing your best to remain professional, while still keeping her attention., "No thanks, I'd like to make it home before sundown."

Natasha continued to follow you around, her eyes watched the way your hands gently move the pieces about. It was clear to her that the job meant something to you, it wasn't an easy cash grab, or an exploitation of nervous spouses. You genuinely loved the art of crafting, and sharing that with anyone who would partake.

"Who picked out the arrangements?," she questioned, her curiosity getting the better of her., "Kate and Yelena were incredibly busy, so they actually asked me to give it my best go, and so I landed on this.," you stepped back, your hands now gesturing to the display., "What do you think? Is it up to snuff?"

Natasha smirked playfully as she observed the display in all of its glory. It was mesmerizing, there wasn't anything to be expected on the table, and she found herself intrigued on the why of it all., "It's beautiful, truly, but may I ask why?," your pensive look inspired her to elaborate., "What's the reason you didn't slap some roses down and call it a job well done?"

"Roses are lovely, they hold their place in the wedding line up for sure, but it's just lazy, and too par for the course for me.," you explained., "Holly, the flower you see wreathed around each base of the vase is for more than the Christmas season you know.," she saw the way your eyes lit up the further you divulged, and she found it rather endearing to say the least.

"They're meant to symbolize courage, defense, and oversight, which I felt perfectly fitted to your sister's dangerous job, and Kate's love and acceptance in spite of it all.," her heart softened as you explained., "Then at the center here we have a cluster of lavender, the purple color was important to Kate, so I did my best to give her that, while somehow finding a balance."

"It inspires a calming energy, and I felt that would be good at any wedding.," she nodded.

"Then directly surrounding the sprigs of purple is a circle of pink bluebells for everlasting love, and lastly we have gardenias for pure joy.," you looked to her expectantly, brow raised and all., "Well, it's already beautiful to look at, but when you elaborate, it gives it a different beauty."

"Thank you."

Natasha frowned as you finished the display of the last table., "Are you staying for the night?," you shook your head, smiling softly as you did.,

"I'm afraid not, I am not one to overstay my welcome, but do wish the couple well for me."

"No pressure, but I'll have you know my sister and her blushing bride would have no quarrels if you stayed, in fact I'm certain Kate would be sad if you didn't—she's fond of your work.," the redhead somewhat groveled, much to her own shock too, even using her sisters fiancé as a play in the game to get you to stay.

The twinkle in her eye isn't lost on you., "So, I should stay for Kate's sake then?," she heard the tease, it even excited her, but she did her best to remain unaffected., "Why of course."

"Happy wife, happy life—who am I to deny your sister such a thing?," you winked, then much to the redheads dismay you went to go., "Where are you going then?," she cursed herself for the desperation in her tone., "Thought I'd put my wagon away, doesn't seem to add the right ambiance for the wedding."

"Oh, yeah, makes sense...," you giggled softly., "Yeah, don't worry princess—I'll return."

Natasha watched you walk away in shock, her eyes never stopped staring ahead, not even when you'd disappeared around the corner. Never in her life had she been so awkward, nor so desperate to be around someone, but there was just something so special about you.

"Sestra! Where's Y/N? Did you scare her off?"

"No. She just went to her car for a moment."

"Good, she's running late.," Yelena groaned, and her sister looked to her for clarification., "She's Kate's maid of honor.," she offers, and the redheads jaw drops at the information.

"What? How? Why have I never heard of her?," she stammers, her words flying out nearly as fast as her thoughts are running., "You have, she's the third musketeer you always miss out on seeing at all of our events you're late to."

"Wait! Y/N is Wanda and Kate's third party?," the blonde nods with a fond smirk., "She's a very sweet girl, but with a bit of a wild side."

"She said she was leaving, I had to ask her to stay.," Natasha bargains with a furrowed brow, and she gets her sisters obnoxious laughter in response., "She's also a bit of a tease."

"Who's a tease?," you ask as you step back up to the sisters with a sly smirk, and in a new outfit that leaves Natasha at a loss for words.

"You.," Yelena pointedly remarks, she then grabs your arm before slapping her sister upside her head., "Go get ready Natalia."

"Here.," you reach out to the redhead, her breath hitches when you push her hair behind her ear as you settle a stem atop the lobe., "Beautiful.," you smile, admiring the pink carnation that now sits besides her blushing face., "It symbolizes admiration.," you wink.

"Come on.," Yelena groans, pulling your giggling form along with her, and leaving her speechless, flustered sister in the dust.

—•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•~~~~~~•—

Natasha and you had been flirting from the start, but for some reason neither of you knew how to take it further, so after two years of beating around the bush it appeared up to you to make the move. Natasha meant to ask you, she did, but it only ever turned into half baked dates, where she'd bring you lunch in the shop, and you'd send her off with a new flower, but the feelings you both harbored were only ever masked behind dull, casual conversations.

You both just came from such different worlds, she worked a nine to five, that really was only a recommendation seeing as how she worked well into the night on most occasions, and her weekends off never really rang true either. Natasha was a true prisoner to capitalism, and for some reason she didn't seem to mind it.

Whereas you built your own schedule based on a whim, Monday through Friday you opened the shop anywhere between 10am and 12pm, and were closed by 6pm. Then you would deliver flowers on Saturday's from 10am to 2pm, before taking the rest of the weekends off. You lived a life free of societal pressures, and Natasha was intrigued by your carefree nature, add on your ability to love hard, and your oh so beautiful face and she was a total goner.

She just never knew if you'd be able to handle her demanding lifestyle, you were just so sweet, and she wouldn't want to tamper that. However, as she gets older she becomes more aware that she's not where she should be. Success in business is only one part of the story, she desired love too, and she now knows the only way to complete her life is to have you. To make you hers and build a life with you that tailors to the both of your wants and needs.

Which is why she's nervously awaiting your arrival by the window, her heart full of hope, and her mind racing with what she'll actually say as you finally pull up her snowy driveway. You failed to catch her gaze, you were far too nervous for what's about to happen to look up.

Instead you opened the trunk, and began to collect what you needed. The flowers you reached for were gorgeous. Everyone else received their arrangements in clear vases, but Natasha's was in a red one. Simple, maybe even expected, but nonetheless it was a step above the rest, and to the right person even romantic. There was also a sweet Valentines Day bag beside it that carried a whole lot of goodies tailored specifically to the redhead.

Natasha bit her lip as she watched you slowly make your way up her stairs, you were holding the prettiest bouquet made to date, and her body warmed at the amount of care you show. There was a confidence in your step that had her wondering what your intentions were, she smiled at the thought of you loving her back.

Then all too quickly her smile fades when she watches you slip hard on the ice of her porch. The vase full of dark and light red carnations, white gardenias and a single pink rose goes flying into the wall and shatters, and at the sound you wince, soon wondering if your numbed tailbone maybe had met the same fate.

Natasha ran outside., “Y/N/N, oh my gosh, are you okay?,” you looked up at her with a pained smile., “I’m oka—.,” your lie was cut off with a groan as Natasha too slipped in an attempt to help you up, her pointed elbow making harsh contact with your soft abdomen., “I’m sorry.”

After a minute of silence on both of your ends you finally peered down to see the redhead already smirking up at you. Then all at once the both of you broke out into a fit of laughter. Sure it was embarrassing, but seeing as you both fell prey to the harsh winter conditions it wasn’t all that bad. Natasha was the first to shimmy into a seated position, her hands reaching behind her to pick up the flowers.

“They’re beautiful.,” she comments, bringing them up to her face one by one to appreciate the aromas as well., “Tell me about them?,” you could see the hopeful glint in her eyes, there was an unusual vulnerability in her tone too. So you sighed and sat up to face her as you finally had the courage to give her your heart.

“Well.,” you softly scooped the lighter of the two carnations out of her hand., “This shade is meant to symbolize someone’s admiration for the recipient.,” you watched as her cheeks tinted a similar shade., “I admire you wholly.”

“The white gardenias symbolize purity.,” your eyes burned bright with the message as you stared deeply into Natasha’s gorgeous green., “There’s nothing I trust more than us.,” she subtly scooted closer to you, heart completely enthralled by your slow love confession.

“The darker shade.,” you took a deep breath, this one was the one that gave no room for a friendly interpretation., “It’s a symbol of a deep, undying love that the giver harbors for the recipient.,” you ducked your head, afraid to see her reaction, but a firm hand on your shoulder brought your eyes back up, and your heart settled at the sight of her soft features.

Natasha’s lips gently twitched at the roundabout confession, the instinct to smile dreamily was there, but when you went to reach out for the rose she felt the urge to tease you was a smidge stronger than melting into the warmth of your reciprocated love.

“I thought you said roses were lazy.,” she hummed while looking the flower over., “Eh, sometimes the cliches work.,” you remarked playfully, and the redhead nodded, then she smiled warmly at you before reaching to hand you your own rose back., “Do you accept?”

Natasha watched the clarity slowly wash over you, her use of the flower nowhere close to lost on you., “That was meant to be my line.,” you teased, but your vulnerability was evident., “I’d say I’m sorry I beat you to it, but I’m not.,” she smirked triumphantly., “Now answer me Y/N.”

“I do.,” she instantly beamed, then she moved to straddle your lap, and the tension was thick as your eyes tracked her every movement. Soft fingers traced over your face before pushing the hair behind your ears. Her hands were gentle as she placed the rose over your ear., “Beautiful.,” she breathed out affectedly, and then as she looked into your doe eyes she softly whispered., “Fuck it.,” then her lips met yours.

Natasha was gentle, she was a romantic at heart, so there wasn’t any rush to devour you. However, as your hands settled possessively over her hips she felt the urge to deepen it.

“My eyes! Kate! Take the wheel!,” Yelena shrieked, her hand was swift as it threw the cop car into drive., “Serves you right for spying.”

The loud boom of sirens, and screeching tires pulled your attentions from one another., “Eto malen'koye der'mo.,” you chuckled affectedly., “I’m not sure what you said, but it was hot.”

(That little shit)

Natasha smirked., “Oh yeah?,” you nodded dumbly, and she leaned in, your body shivered as her hot breaths fanned across your face., “Tebya budet tak veselo unichtozhat', detka.”

(You’re going to be so fun to destroy, baby.)

“Fuck.,” you whimpered., “Kiss me, please.”

As her plump lips reclaim their place against yours, you sigh dreamily against her as your heart hammers wildly in your chest. Because the soft affection reaffirms your thoughts; to know Natasha Romanoff, is to know true love.

————

To offer a rose, is to essentially offer your ❤️.

3,844 Words

❤️ Kaitlyn 🌸

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