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juniperskye · 29 days

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Like I Talk To Myself.

Sneak Peek: Being the new kid in school has Jason and his asshat friends saying some horrible shit to you. In attempt of being your white knight, Eddie finds out that it’s not Jason and his goons who you need to be saved from. Eddie’s POV. Indented section is a phone call (italics are Eddie and bold is Wayne)

Eddie Munson x Fem Reader

Hurt/Comfort

Word count: 2004

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, language, reader is clinically depressed, mentions of abusive home life, description of injuries from abuse, bad medication management, self-deprecation, suicidal thoughts, mention of self-harm, description of injuries related to self-harm. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THESE THEMES ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU!!! If I missed any, let me know!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

The new girl had been here for nearly two months now. I had tried really hard to hide how into her I was, but the guys pretty much guessed it the second they saw me checking her out. She was different than the girls here in Hawkins, she kept to herself, not pursuing the usual popular guys. Truthfully he hadn’t seen you attempt to pursue anyone in your time here.

She was in my math class and every day she would come in with her head down, hood up, and quickly find a seat in the back. She’d end up doodling most of the class, like she was right now. The bell ringing startled her, I really wanted to reach out and comfort her, she seemed like she needed it.

I exited the classroom right behind her, only to watch Andy slam right into her. Her books went flying all over the hallway and Andy started yelling at her.

“Watch where you’re going you stupid bitch.” Andy roared.

“Woah Andy, back off. You ran into her!” I had no idea why I was interjecting.

“Oooh I get it! The freak found himself a freakette.” Jason chimed in.

“No, that’s not…” I stuttered.

“I don’t give a shit. Just keep that bitch on a leash, or next time, I’ll kick your ass.” Andy barked.

I looked back to see her scrambling to grab her things and make her way out the doors that lead to the football field. Jason and his idiot friends had been treating her like this since she arrived. They had initially tried to get in her pants and when she refused they called her things like prude, virgin Mary, but then it escalated to slut and whore. And now their name of choice had been bitch.

I made quick haste of following her, something in me just needed to make sure she was okay. As I moved to trail her, my foot made contact with something. I glanced and recognized it immediately as the notebook she’s always carrying. I picked it up and a few pages fell out, leaning over to grab them, my breath escaped me. The words and images scrawled on these pages were dark.

I picked up the pace and saw that she was headed to the picnic table in the clearing. I wasn’t far behind, and I wanted to make sure I didn’t startle her, so I called after her, just as she was sitting down.

“Hey!”

“What do you want?” She snapped.

“I uh, I wanted to make sure you were okay. Plus, I wanted to give this back to you.” I explained.

“Did you go through this?” She accused.

“No, but some of the pages fell out and I did see them…you’re not gonna go through with it are you?” I asked.

“Dude, that is none of your business. It’s not like anyone would miss me anyway.”

“I would.” I mumbled.

“You don’t know me.” She said.

I moved to sit next to her on the bench, sure to leave her enough space. Being this close to her, I could see how her skin looks dull, her cheeks sunken in, her hair looked brittle. In front of me was a girl who was going through a really hard time, and I wanted to do anything in my power to lift some of her burden.

“I don’t know much about you, but I’d really like to. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of Jason’s torture.”

“Eddie, if they think that they can make me cry more than me, they’re wrong. It’s my voice in my head telling me I’m better off dead. Not Jason’s, not Andy’s, mine.” She explained.

I was speechless, I truly couldn’t believe that she felt this horrible. I had seen this girl and the amazing things she was capable of; she had silently helped others in her time here. She would loan out a pencil if it was needed, she had given her lunch to a kid who couldn’t afford it, hell, she had pulled a kid out of the way of Andy in the hall just last week so they wouldn’t have to endure what she did today. She was such a good person and he wished she could see it.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked her.

“I guess…you already know way too much about me.” She shrugged.

“In your notebook, I saw something about you hurting yourself…is that true?”

She looked down at her hands, resting in her lap. I was fully expecting her to tell me off and walk away, I had clearly pushed a boundary. But instead, she reached for her zipper, pulled it down and slid her jacket off her shoulders. She folded it neatly and placed it on the table, revealing her arms to me. A choked noise escaped my throat as my eyes roamed over the number of scars that littered her arms. There were scars that were clearly from cigarettes, other burn type scars and a bunch of neat parallel lines that varied in color. Some were white and obviously healed, some were raised scars from the depth, and some were red and recently scabbed over.

“It’s bad. I know.” She shook her head, a tear falling and landing on her jeans.

“Hey, there is no judgement. I just, I am curious to know why.” I replied.

“Why? I don’t…I’ve never been asked that before. I mean my parents treat me like shit, my dad likes to fight when he’s drunk. And my mom, she belittles me every chance she gets…she thinks depression is a joke and that I am making things up. Even after being diagnosed, she still thinks I am trying to get attention, she withholds my prescription from me sometimes.” She paused, she looked surprised at herself that she’d been able to vent freely.

“Honestly Eddie…by inflicting physical pain, I am able to shift my focus to that instead of the emotional pain. It allows me this release of all the horrible shit I am feeling after dealing with school or home.”

I looked at her, gently reached up to brush a strand of her hair back and then grabbed her hand. I locked eyes with her again, to make sure she was okay with this, and when she nodded subtly, I brought her wrist to my lips and placed a light kiss there.

“I just want the pain to end Eddie.” She sniffled.

“I know that things are really shitty right now, and I’m not going to sit here and tell you that it’ll get better, but I do know that there are steps we can take to improve it little by little and I want to help you do that if you will let me.”

*Two Months Later*

I had just gotten to school and made my way to her locker and waited, just as I had done every day for the last two months. I had promised her that I would be by her side in any way I could, and I wasn’t about to break that promise. Only, today she didn’t show. Maybe she was running late…right? I headed off to English and hoped I would see her in third period for math. When she wasn’t there, I knew I had to find her.

I left the school and drove straight to her house; I couldn’t stomach the thought of what I might find. I didn’t want to drive without knowing if she was okay, but I also couldn’t waste any more time.

I didn’t take the time to park, leaving the van diagonally in her driveway. Rushing over to the door and throwing it open.

“Hey peach, you here?” I called out, hoping she’d be sick on the couch, but when I was met with silence I made my way to the stairs, taking them two at a time. “Peach?”

I heard a quiet sob come from the bathroom and began knocking.

“Hey peach, it’s me. Can I come in?”

“No Eddie, go away, please.” She cried.

“You know I can’t do that, not until I see you’re okay.” I pleaded.

The lock to the door clicked after a moment and I quickly opened the door. The sight I was met with was one I never wish to see again. She was sat on the bathroom floor in a tank top and shorts, drops of blood were pooling on the tiles below her. Only it wasn’t of her own doing, she had a black eye, split lip and eyebrow, a sizeable cut across her cheek, and bruises littering her arms and legs.

“Peach. Who did this to you?”

“Eddie…”

“Peach. Who. Did. This.”

“My dad.” She sobbed, dropping her head into her hands.

I had to take a deep breath to calm myself. My vision was tinted in crimson, rage filling my being. I knew I needed to keep my cool though, I didn’t want to upset her anymore than she already was.

I looked at her and asked her if I could help clean up those cuts. She nodded and let me lift her to the countertop. I cleaned and bandaged her cuts and helped her to her room, I told her to lie down and went to grab her a water and some Tylenol. Once in the kitchen I grabbed the phone, dialing home.

Hey Wayne…I need a favor. My friend, That girl you call peach? yeah peach. Are you with her now? Tell her I said hi! I will Wayne. She uh, she needs a place to stay. Eds we shouldn’t get into other people’s business…plus she’d have to stay in your room…and I don’t want any funny business under my roof. No, I know. Wayne it’s bad. She can stay here. Okay, thank you.

I made my way back to her room and handed her the water and Tylenol. I didn’t know how to suggest to her that we pack all her stuff and get her out of here, but I know I needed to. She deserved to be in a home where people loved and cared about her…not stuck here in this hell her parents have created for her.

“Hey peach…”

“Eddie…”

“You go first.” I suggested.

“I um, I know it’s a big ask…but do you think maybe I could…you know what never mind.” She shook her head.

“I called Wayne when I was downstairs. I asked him if you could stay with us, and he said yes.” I explained.

“Really? Thank you Eddie!” She sniffled and pulled me into a hug.

“Let’s get you packed!”

After gathering her things, we made our way out to the van. She left a note for her parents explaining that they didn’t need to worry about her, not that they had before. And we headed back to the trailer. Wayne came outside to help bring her things in as we pulled up, when he saw her face, he glanced at me and gave me a short nod. We got her things inside, and I helped her unpack some of her stuff.

Wayne ordered us a pizza and bid us goodnight as he left for work. I let her shower first and then after we’d both showered and brushed our teeth, we got into bed. Only after she told me it was unacceptable for me to sleep on the floor.

“I gave him the finger.” She whispered.

“What?” I asked, confused.

“He was yelling at me and calling me names. I uh, I gave him the finger and told him to go to hell.” She explained.

“You did?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled “I’m not going to tolerate being called useless, stupid, or being told I am too hard to love. Not by them and not by me. Not anymore.” She turned over and smiled at me.

I couldn’t help but smile back. She was so easy to love, and I couldn’t wait to show her that.

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celestialwhoree · 1 month

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hi😊

I’m just wondering if you’d write something…? It’s okay if you don’t want to!

I was wondering about ghost or könig….maybe soap with a crybaby!partner? Like, I’m a very emotional person, I cry easily and I have really bad anxiety and self image issues. So I was just kind of wondering if like, they did something, maybe like touched them or something and then the reader bursts into tears because it feels good or they’re self conscious…?

I’m so sorry if I make u uncomfortable, it was no intention of mine :(

This is so me pookie💕 I loovelovelovelove confused buff military men X total emotional wreck partners 🤭🫶 not self indulgent at all

You've gotten really good at working out when you're going to have a bad day. That heavy feeling weighs heavy on your shoulders from the moment you sit up in bed. The sickly lump in your throat chokes you up - makes you swallow down the glass of water left on the nightstand last night to wash it down. It's become so predictable, so routine.

Even your comfiest clothes feel too tight today. The waistband of your jeans constricts you, and the sleeves of your sweater are just short enough that you can't pull them comfortably over your hands. The lights in the grocery store are too bright and the crackly loudspeakers play some catchy new song you hate. All of your comfort foods are out of stock. You even work up the nerve to ask an employee if they've moved around the baking section (which they very clearly have, seeing as your safe haven of cookie cutters and chocolate chips is no longer on aisle four) only to be met with a dirty look and a shrug.

By the time Simon gets home, you're practically at breaking point. None of your go-to self soothing methods had worked, and the day only seemed more intent on breaking you with every attempt you'd made to ease yourself down from the emotional cliff edge you'd been teetering on. You'd hoped that you would've sorted yourself out by the time his car rolled into the driveway - prancing into the hall with a smile and a kiss to greet him - not slumped on the couch watching some rerun episode of Real Housewives. Your lack of enthusiasm only serves to make you feel even worse.

He's so quick to drop his work bag, striding into the lounge to capture your cheeks in his palms and press a long, loving kiss on your lips. The moment he feels wetness on his cheeks, he stills. "Hey." Simon coos, keeping your face in his grasp as silent tears dribble down your cheeks. "Hey hey hey. Wha's wrong?" The soft concern in his tone only makes you sniffle quietly, trying to avoid his eye. "M' sorry." You murmur, feeling less like something to be worried about, more like a burden. "Why're you sorry? No reason to apologise t'me."

Simon settles on the couch beside you as he gives you a minute to find your words. "Just.." It's impossible not to lean into his palm when he wipes the salty tears from your ruddy cheeks. "Dunno, just overwhelmed today I guess." You shrug defeatedly as Simon scoops you up, pulling you into his side. "Tha's alright." He reassures, stroking his fingers through your hair. "Nothing wrong with having a bit of a day, yeah? We all do." "You don't." You grumble, huffing at how good he is at bringing you down. "Yeah I do. Only difference is that you actually let people see it." "Don't wanna be a burden." The sound of your voice is muffled by the soft, worn cotton of his hoodie. "You're not a burden. You're fucking lovely. Jus' have big feelings sometimes is all."

The comforting rumble of his words has you melting into him, zoning out into the comfort of his presence. "You want a takeaway?" You hum absently in response, finally allowing your shoulders to drop and your mind to wander as he pulls out the menu from your favourite Thai restaurant.

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grimesgirll · 2 months

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you like to match.

maybe it’s a remnant of the old world, back when your biggest problem was how well your outfit was received.

most of the time, you had to dress practically. whenever your group came across an untouched clothing store or cache of quality clothing, the priority was typically finding seasonally appropriate clothing and weather gear, fresh undergarments, new shoes, socks, etcetera. you rarely had the opportunity to put together a real outfit. it was all layering and just taking whatever you could carry. practicality had you collecting cargoes in every color.

rick enjoyed your style; you made an effort to look put together when you could and post-apocalypse, all it took was you finding a pair of jeans that actually fit to propel him from checking you out to tearing them off and bending you over the nearest surface.

daryl thought you were a mall rat. he takes the opportunity to make fun of you and your fashion sense while you’re out on a run.

“this is an abandoned kohl’s, not mooningdale’a or wherever the bitch from ‘friends’ worked.”

you giggle at him. “you mean bloomingdale’s?”

“whatever.”

the two of you are scavenging the former shopping center in search of any edible food, water, tools, anything for judith, just anything that could come in handy. winter coats and appropriate weather gear were pretty large priorities as well.

you thumb through racks of clothing, estimating if it suit fit the person from the group who you were mentally fitting. from flannels for carl, onesies for judith, and boxers for rick, you’re tossing your finds over your arm like an associate was about to come up and offer you a basket.

the pile you’ve accumulated is ditched on an ottoman in the shoe department when a pair of boots catches your eye.

“fuck,” you whisper low enough for daryl not to hear. the brown leather boots have you salivating at the mouth. god, you have nowhere to wear those but if you did…

you’re forced to pick your jaw up off the floor when daryl comes around.

“find anything worth bringin’ back?” his arms are full with everything from tool kits to batteries.

you shake your head. “nope, not much. i’m gonna grab a cart though,” you mention, gesturing to the haul in his arms.

“just don’t get a squeaky one in case there are any walkers lyin’ round.”

“of course!” you chirp, hand wrapping around the metal handlebar as you pry it from a line of other shopping carts.

daryl dumps his finds in and while his back is turned, you toss in the pair of boots. a layer of two of tissue paper on top seems like a good enough disguise.

then the two of you are back to walking the sales floor. you can’t help but watch daryl as he walks in front of you. your breath hitches when you notice how tightly that shirt clings to him - to his rather large arms specifically. you’re so engrossed in how he pushes the cart that you almost miss the gadget out of the corner of your eye.

suddenly you’re doing a double take and walking yourself back to the electronics section.

“you makin’ a documentary or somethin’?”

you turn over the camcorder in your hands. “maybe.” you smile at your traveling companion. “you can take me on one of your hunts and i can get some footage.”

“spook all the deer while you’re at it.”

laughing at him, you flip the screen fully open and put the recording device up to your eye. “maybe i’ll make a survival documentary. video diary or something.”

daryl is walking up to you and flipping the camera shut as soon as he notices the viewfinder trained on his groin.

“what?” you cry, immediately putting on a fake pout. “you don’t wanna make a porn with me?”

“baby, this is a kohl’s.”

you shrug. “what’s it matter? i’m sure people made porn in kohl’s before. wanna go to the dressing room?”

“i don’t think we have time for all that-,”

“ah, i think we do.”

despite his protests, you tug him away from the electronics section - camcorder in your back pocket - and make a beeline for the dressing room.

rick and daryl didn’t like you leaving alexandria without them.

most of the time they made you write them a list as opposed to letting you window shop in the wasteland yourself. so something so mundane as using a dressing room is kind of exciting to you.

the man with a hand in yours rolls the cart up to the dressing room attendant’s desk.

daryl frowns when he notices the boots under the tissue paper. “baby, the fuck’ are these?” he holds up the most gorgeous pair of boots you’ve ever seen.

your lip quivers. “the best pair of shoes i’ve seen since atlanta.”

“how the fuck are you gonna run from walkers in these?”

“uh, i won’t.” you spit.

“you mouthin’ off?”

“never.” you promise with a chuckle.

daryl just shakes his head. “put ‘em back.”

“i think i’ll keep them.”

“really?” he pushes the cart aside to stand in front of you, close enough so that you can feel his body heat radiating towards you.

you offer a playful smile. “i think you just need to see me in them first. then you’ll be convinced.”

with that, the two of you are darting into a dim dressing room - boots in hand.

it doesn’t take long for you to hear the fitting room door swinging open, announcing that rick has found you two.

“we were just discussin’ the merit of her wearing underwear.”

you’re glad the three of you are confined to the handicap dressing room. you wouldn’t want anyone to see your blush when rick gets a cocky grin on his face.

he takes in the sight of you with your jeans pushed down and his best friend next to you, another finger toying at your underwear.

“well, you know my answer.”

you don’t need to ask the constable; he’d make it law for you to go commando at all times if he could.

“yeah, i don’t think you need ‘em.” the younger man agrees.

“why is me wearing underwear such a debate?” you question with a wistful smile. “you two spend awfully more time talking about it than it off.”

“why don’t you show him your boots first?”

you lift an eyebrow, and a leg and do a little kick, still mindful of the intimate dressing room. the light falls on the posh leather boots in such a fashion that you’re forgetting you snatched them off of a shelf at kohl’s.

rick whistles. “you look great in them, darlin’. i’m curious where you think you’ll be wearin’ then though.”

shrugging, you settle back down onto the seat and begin freeing yourself from the leather brown boots. “not sure. they’re pretty to look at though.

“that they are.” rick agrees.

“why don’t you keep ‘em on?”

you raise an eyebrow. “i thought they were,” you make air quotations with your fingers, “shit boots.”

rick sniggers. “so mean to her, dare.’”

you nod, zipping a boot back up. “really.”

“i think you should apologize to the pretty lady. tell her you like her boots.”

you teeter a boot a foot above the ground invitingly. daryl falls to his feet in front of you with a frown that you know is a front. as soon as he’s faced with your inner thighs, his hands are laid out on top of them, and he’s iterating beneath you,”

“i’m sorry ‘bout your boots, baby.” he states, eager fingers inching closer to your waistband again. “i think you look fuckin’ fantastic in ‘em. but where are you gonna wear em’?”

you have an answer but as he peels back your panties and leans in to face a mere few inches from your dripping core, your response is stuck in your throat. it takes a sharp inhale to regain your thoughts when his finger and tongue begin tempting you at the same time. rick leans against the wooden paneled wall, crossing his arms at you.

“you know they’re gonna be hard to match with all your other clothes. not that you don’t have enough.” rick sighs, running a hand through his hair like he’s thinking about storage and reveling in spectating daryl touch and tease you. “you already filled up the closet last time you came out with us. you’re gonna have to call rosita over to take some of it off your hands.”

you roll your eyes. they’re telling you that you need to get rid of clothing like every other month. when it comes time for them to make you bag up anything you’re willing to part with, you typically found some way to end up on your knees or with them bending you over something. that usually gives you another month.

“i thought daryl was saying sorry.” you grumble, smooth legs kicking playfully in protest until daryl has them pinned against the seat, his tongue licking furious stripes from the top of your clit down to your aching little hole.

“baby, you’re so wet.” daryl comments, lips smacking with your slick.

“as always.” rick jeers, walking over to sit next to you. “hey, doll,” he greets into your mouth.

needy and bucking into daryl’s soft mouth, you return the kiss with a fervor that rick’s not expecting. he groans at the bruising brush of your pillowy smooth lips against his.

you’re reaching your hand to the side to grasp at him when you instead find your camcorder. remembering your original plan, you pull it forward onto rick’s lap.

he only chuckles into your mouth when you open the video camera and aim the lens on the man going to town between your legs.

“you forgive me, baby?” daryl inquires with the addition of a finger.

you nod up and down. “fuck, i forgive you, dare’. you’re so good with your mouth.”

rick’s smile turns upside down when he notices how shaky your hand is getting as daryl brings you closer to your first p.m. orgasm. he brings a steady hand up to relieve you of your cameraman duties.

the opportunity presents itself to fall back into rick so you take it. his chest is pressed snugly against your backside now as he angles the camcorder to catch the downright debaucherous scene occurring in this kohl’s dressing room.

your legs are quivering and you’re chanting daryl’s name when he removes his fingers and goes all in on your pussy.

rick clasps a hand on your mouth. “shh, honey. don’t want the others to think somethin’s wrong.”

“mhmmm,” you shudder against his hand.

the pleasure daryl’s been doling out to you comes in the form of a mind numbing orgasm that washes over your tensed form from head to toe. daryl doesn’t slow down either as you cost his face in your sweet slick. he’s licking patterns into you and you swear he’s trying to paint the alphabet across your cunt as you ride out the delicious pressure your boyfriend is treating you to.

“how are you gonna walk back to the car?” rick asks you, pulling your face gently towards his to cup your chin and engross you in another kiss. he only separates from you to pass the camcorder off to daryl and lift your thighs.

“might have to carry you.” daryl muses and begins undoing his belt.

“rick, you’re gonna fuck me, right?” you crane your neck to lock eyes with the man entering you right then and there.

“fuck, give me a moment, darlin’.” rick shakes his head as you grind against him, unable to think straight.

you’re catching your breath when you look up and notice the blue eyed man behind the somehow closed camcorder. bless him.

“i think you have the cover on,” you giggle and stretch using your tippy toes to flip it back for him.

once the red light is on your face, rick yanking your tank top off and attacking your bare chest with open mouthed kisses. the nipple he pops into his mouth pebbles even more at his touch. his mouth coupled with the all encompassing stretch you’re enduring is drawing every moan you can muster.

he cements a grip on your hips to raise you up and down on his cock in his lap. the plushnsss of your ass is making him feral as he’s met with that same pillowy softness upon every meeting with his pelvis.

daryl keeps the camera on you, rick, and the mess you’re creating in your laps. he shuffles to stand next to the seat and offers you his now nude cock which you happily take into your mouth, earning him a better angle in the process.

the camcorder captures you oohing and aahing around daryl as rick fucks the past few hours of tension out of you. nothing like justifying fucking your brains out in a dressing room on stress and performance.

the girthy man in your mouth is thinking the same thing. daryl hisses when he hits the back of your throat and you gag. he’s fucking your throat even faster once he catches sight of his dick disappearing in and out of your pretty pink lips on the screen.

like a seesaw, you rock up and down on rick. the way rick is thrusting upwards into you has you moaning pornographicly around his best friend’s length. it’s only so long before you have to give in. you’re rolling your hips frantically and making the most debauched noises around daryl.

that’s all it takes for the archer to twitch in your throat. you’re prepared to swallow but before you know it, he’s backing his cock out of your mouth and holding it directly in your face, pumping with one hand and recording in the other.

“watch out, rick,” he warns.

and just like that his cock is in front of you, spurting and coating your face.

“does that go with your outfit?”

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controlmyfeet · 8 months

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i still feel everything when you are near - matty healy

matty healy x ex!reader

angst

warnings: exes, alcohol consumption, insecurities, jealousy (kinda?), pining, kissing, crying (lmk if there’s more i need to add!)

a/n: not sure about this. i think the last time i tried to write fanfiction i was 13, so feedback is appreciated but pls be nice lol. also, english is not my first language!

3570 words

it still hurts.

i didn't think it would hurt as much after 6 months, but seeing him in the flesh makes me realize it does. i thought i was already used to it, thought i was actually doing a good job moving on, if we ignore my slump in the first 3 weeks after the breakup, where i would just leave the house for work and groceries (that i would overbuy because i forgot i'd just cook for myself), i think i was doing pretty okay.

i should've guessed he would be in the city. he can't stay in one place for too long; if he has a few days free in between shows, he's going to look for a studio to work in. usually in london, los angeles, or here. most of the time, he ends up here.

but i never know where he is anymore.

i deleted twitter from my phone after 2 months. maybe because of the questions, perhaps because i didn't care, or maybe i was tired of reading all the tabloids and fearing they were true. maybe i care too much. whatever, right? it just means i haven't seen him in a while, even in pictures.

i'm sitting by the dark wooden bar counter when i first spot him. he's standing with charli and george in the vip section near the dj booth, surrounded by people as always. my friends noticed that he's here too, but they haven't said anything, which i'm grateful for. i'd rather pretend it doesn't affect me.

he looks different, though. his arms are bigger, and his hair is longer; soft curls fall over big brown eyes that crinkle whenever george says something funny. he still has that boyish smile.

lulu and bea went dancing and i said i'd join them in a minute. we go to this club every time we're in the city, but tonight it is more crowded than usual. my secluded spot at the bar being the only place i won't be pushed around. still, i feel bad. it's my best friend's birthday, and we came to new york together to celebrate, but instead, i'm drowning my sorrows with cosmos.

"you won't even say hi now?" i hear matty's voice from behind me and turn around, startled. he stands tall and confident as always, but his eyes no longer hold the same energy. here, up close, i can see that his eyebags look more prominent, and his stubble has grown slightly. he looks tired. i don't think i look any better.

"hi," i say, looking into his brown orbs, phlegmatic, as if the butterflies in my stomach aren't going batshit crazy right now "i didn't see you, sorry."

he grins cheekily, "it's alright, darling."

i don't really know what to say. he should hate me, honestly. it wouldn't be surprising considering how we left things, with all the yelling, name calling. with all the broken picture frames. it started with another rumor while he was on tour, another leaked picture. he was so dismissive and vague about it that i just couldn't find it in myself to trust him, and he could only complain about how childish all of it was.

i guess he doesn't, though. they have free drinks inside the vip section. i remember it from when we came here together. he doesn't need to come all the way to the bar for a drink.

"it-it's good to see you," i stutter, apprehensive now. fearing that maybe he really does hate me, and just walked over to tell me how much so. i mean, i would hate him, too, if i could. but no matter how hard i try, i can't. and believe me, i've tried.

matty is standing so close that the loud music sounds muffled now, and the warm, dim light of the bar reflecting on his silky skin makes me want to melt into his arms. so i try to keep my eyes focused on my feet.

he seems to notice that i'm struggling as i fidget with my empty glass.

"can i get you another one?" he asks amicably. my eyes shift from my feet to the glass in my hands and back to his eyes.

"sure," i reply shyly.

he asks a bartender polishing wine glasses next to us for another cosmopolitan. behind the man, shelves from the same material as the counter hold a collection of glass bottles of different colors with labels sporting french and italian names. matty sits on the barstool beside mine. "so…what are you doing here in new york? i thought you hated the city this time of the year."

and it's true, i hate new york during the summer. the concrete buildings seem to make the temperature much higher, and tourists crowd every corner. it feels claustrophobic. the subway also smells extra bad during these months. but i loved being here with him, no matter the season. i loved being anywhere with him.

"well, yeah. but it's lulu's birthday, and she wanted to celebrate it here, so here we are. the three of us."

"bea is here too?"

"she is, yeah."

him talking about my friends is familiar. many sunday evenings were spent on his couch sharing a bottle of red with my newest candle burning on the side. at the same time, i'd tell him about the most recent gossip in my friend group, and he would listen.

the barman places the new drink before me and takes the empty glass. i thank him and take a sip of the pink liquid. it's sweet and sour, and the vodka calms my nerves a little bit. he's staring at my lips. so i lick them clean.

he shifts, and suddenly, i feel his calloused fingertips brush against my elbow resting comfortably over the counter. much more tender than last time; my skin burns where he touches it.

"how's your writing going?" he asks, looking into my eyes now.

i tell him i'm still at the magazine, it's going alright. not a lot has changed since we broke up. but it's less exciting, more monotonous. i leave that part out. and he asks me about my own stuff, poems and essays hidden in my drafts.

it's just awkward small talk. so awkward. like we're just acquaintances. friends of friends being left alone, being civil to each other.

it's also a conversation we've had before. documents on my computer that weren't fitting enough for the editors or that i just wrote on a whim. he used to tell me to publish them either way, to leave the magazine and find people who actually appreciate my work, or to start my own thing. but it would be useless; they're not good enough.

"well, i don't know, it's been a while since i've written anything out of work." i take another sip, just to calm down a little. "haven't felt very inspired lately."

oh my god, shut up– i can't say this to my ex. it's embarrassing, pitiful.

"it happens." he takes my hand and brushes his thumb over my knuckles. i still shiver "you're really talented, love. you should be proud of yourself. i am."

even his praise hurts now; i miss hearing it daily. it's a stab in my chest, salt on the wound. so i just bite my lip and nod. afraid that if i say something, a choked sob will come out.

there's longing in his eyes, and he gets a look like he wants to say more. but his gaze flickers behind me for a moment, and he drops my hand and gives my left shoulder a squeeze, showing me a soft smile.

"i'll leave you be, then. it was nice seeing you, love."

there's a voice in the back of my head begging me to make him stay, but i know i can't do that, not when i recall why it ended the way it did. still, i want to reach for his hand and pull him back to me, just for a few minutes at least. but someone grips my shoulders.

"there you are!" lulu says excitedly, already a few drinks ahead of me. her dark blonde hair messy and her skin glimmering with sweat from all the dancing. bea follows right behind her. "c'mon, let's do some shots, you need to power up for all the dancing you owe me."

"alright." i force a giggle and down my drink as bea asks the bartender for three tequila shots.

a few minutes and many shots later, the three of us are on the dance floor, swaying wildly to the loud, thumping bass of whatever music the dj's playing. just being around my girls makes me feel less anxious, and the flashing lights, plus all the alcohol already flowing through my body are making my mind a bit hazy, which helps me let loose a little.

as i move, i can feel the beat of the music inside my chest, sweaty bodies pushing against me without a care. i even forget about matty for a minute. i don't think about how his hands used to feel on me when we danced together, not at all.

we dance for maybe 30 minutes. until lulu finds one of her many ex-flings, and, as they catch up, bea asks me to go to the bathroom with her. taking my hand, she leads me out of the crowded area and towards the door labeled "ladies' room".

the contrast from the mostly dark club to the bathroom's white walls makes my eyes squint. it's colder in here, quieter. i can hear the stifled bass from the music and high heels clicking against the floor tiles.

as i wait for bea, i brace myself on the sink in front of me and look into the mirror. everything is happening too fast. talking to matty, downing shots, and being dragged to the dance floor immediately. my head is pounding. i didn't have the time to process what is going on tonight.

my ears are ringing, and it feels like all the alcohol has suddenly lost all its effect. instantly sobering up, i grab a paper towel and dab it on my arms and face to try to get rid of the sweat. turning on the sink, i wet my hands and place them on the back of my neck to cool down and try to help with the dizziness. i hear the toilet flush, and bea comes out of the cubicle, running her hands through her wavy black hair. i reach into my purse and pull out my lipgloss, coating my lips evenly while looking at myself in the mirror.

"i'm going to the back for a bit," i tell bea as she approaches the sink next to me.

"you okay? do you need water?" she asks, concerned

"yea- yes, i just need to breathe a little."

"okay, text me if you need anything." i just nod and leave the bathroom. she knows me, knows i need to be alone.

pushing through crowded bodies, i head to the club's back door, leading to a narrow alleyway where the employees usually store extra liquor bottles. it also doubles as a smoking area, so i shouldn't be surprised when i see him as soon as i open the door. tattooed arms flexing as he lights a cigarette, probably not his first one of the night, and i turn back to try to leave before he sees me.

"leaving so soon?" i turn around again and already feel my cheeks heating up. embarrassed, like a kid caught eating dessert before dinner. "you can stay."

"it's okay, i'll go somewhere else," i wave him off mindlessly. he came here to enjoy his cig on his own, right? he doesn't need his ex-girlfriend plaguing his chill alone time "i don't want to bother you, i just need some air."

"please stay." it's not the first time he says this, but this time i do.

with pink-tinged cheeks and heels clicking loudly, i slowly walk down the three small steps in front of the door and move to stand across him with my back resting against the club's brick wall. the warm summer air hits my skin, and i can hear the rustle of the traffic. "you could never bother me." i pretend i didn't hear him.

"i thought you were quitting," i motion to the burning cigarette between his fingers. the moonlight illuminated the alleyway, making the smoke around him look like some kind of silver aura. he smiles at me.

"i'm trying," he says, taking a drag and blowing it out by the side of his mouth, and i laugh.

"it sure looks like it," i reply, still smiling. i'm not as nervous as i expected i would be in this situation; maybe the alcohol hasn't worn off as much as i thought.

he shrugs, running a hand through his hair. "well, you know me".

my eyes follow his every movement, long, calloused fingers holding the rolled paper limply and bringing it up to his red, pouty lips. i start to fidget with the end of my skirt, trying to distract myself by looking at how my fingers twist the fabric. busying myself, so i don't remember how those same lips used to feel against my own or on the curve between my neck and shoulder.

i look up again when i hear matty step on his cigarette– putting it out– and he starts to walk in my direction. my breath hitches. we are face to face now, noses almost touching. closer than we were at the bar. i can see every freckle on his face when he's this close. i can see the chapped corner of his mouth and the grey that's starting to show up on his now tousled hair.

"why did you leave?" he's straight to the point. his voice comes out low, almost a whisper. at our position, there's no need to be louder than that. there's no hatred in his tone; still, he's not smiling. a flash of hurt appears on his face for a moment. "didn't i make you happy?"

"of course you did, matty." i build the courage to look into his eyes, honey pouring out of them. "we've already talked about this."

he lifts his right hand to rest it on the wall beside my head while letting out a scoff. "but i don't get it," his tone is a little bit louder now. he's not aggressive, but he's not whispering anymore. "what happened?"

"it was for the best." i've stopped whispering too. i place my hands on my forehead. as if to avert the impending headache that will follow this conversation. i don't really know what happened either or when it started happening. i feel sweat droplets running down my hairline, not sure if it's from the summer heat, our closeness, or my disquietude.

"for the best of who?" he questions, lifting an eyebrow, "i don't feel any better!"

"we were fighting all the time, you know this!" there's a lump in my throat, and i can already feel the pressure between my eyes, working hard so the tears don't fall. i lower my voice again. "it was only a matter of time until one of us left, i just left first."

his gaze softens– probably after seeing my flooding waterline– and it's a while before he talks again, as if he's gathering his thoughts. thinking before he speaks for once, "i could never leave you" it's a low, gravely whisper, and i probably wouldn't have heard it if we weren't this close. "i wish you'd stayed."

it's a blow to my chest. like a gunshot, blood running down my ribcage. and for a second, i don't think i can breathe.

"i wish you'd done a lot of things, matty." my vision is blurry now, and i feel a single tear roll down my right cheek. i wish he would answer my calls when he stayed late at the studio. i wish he would listen to me when i said i felt neglected. i wish he would give me more security when i felt jealous of the girls partying with him and the boys while i was on the other side of the pond. i wish i stayed. when i can't sleep because i suddenly realize that my bed is too cold, too empty. when i wake up, and there are no kisses on my bare shoulder. when i have to climb over my kitchen counter to reach the can of pasta sauce on the top shelf. when i'm so anxious, and there's no one to hold me… "sometimes i wish i stayed too."

slowly, his hands cup my jaw. long fingers run lightly across my skin and wipe the lonely tear on my face. the hairs on my neck straighten up, and my heart stirs, beating a little faster. he carefully traces his right thumb over my lower lip, giving me time to reject and push him away. and then, his soft lips lock on mine. no warning. i feel his stubble rub against my chin and let out a sigh. there's a flutter on my lower stomach, burning. i should have pushed him away. instead, my fingers trail up his neck, nails brushing against his skin, and finally into his hair as he coaxes his hot tongue into my mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, of course. i can also taste the rum and lime from the mojito he had earlier. one of his hands travels down and he pulls me by the waist, bodies touching fully now. matty groans into my liquored mouth and i preen; it's good to know i still have that effect on him. that i can still make him let out those pretty sounds with just a kiss. it might be selfish, but we both are. because i bet he's proud too, that every touch of his still sends shivers down my spine. i pull out for air first, lungs already starting to burn. my fingers are still buried in his curls as he rests his forehead on mine, both breathing heavily.

"i need you, love," he whispers against my kiss-swollen lips, voice cracking. there's a smudge of lipgloss on the side of his mouth. it was no use reapplying it.

"matty, i can't," my voice comes out weak, just like how i feel.

"why not? you got somebody?" matty frowns, starting to sound a bit agitated.

i shake my head lightly "i don't."

"what is it?"

"i already told you" it's my turn to cup his face now, scuff prickling against my palms. "we already had this fight before, you get annoyed because i can't trust you, and i start yelling because you don't take me seriously!"

"of course i take you seriously!" he defends, already becoming increasingly exasperated. i just shake my head; there's no use going through this all over again. it hurt enough the first time. however, i still close my eyes, knowing that if i keep looking at him, the chances of me believing him are higher.

"i'm not built for this, matty," for being away from him, for time zones and phone calls, for pretty girls throwing themselves all over him "i'm not strong enough."

"look at me, baby." his hands moved from my waist up to cup my face again, thumb brushing lightly over my cheekbones. "please," i open my eyes.

"do you love me?" he asks. i realize his eyes are glossed over now "because i love you. so fucking much."

it will be easier if i say no, break his heart all at once. give him a reason to give up. it takes me a while, but i nod.

"yeah?" there's a glimmer of hope on his wet iris.

"i do, but-"

"then we'll figure it out" it's not that simple; just figuring it out is not enough. we hurt each other.

"we'll just end up in the same place, matty," i explain firmly. at this point, tears stream both of our faces. his chest heaves, and i try to contain another sob. he turns his face slightly to press his lips to my palm, just for a second.

"stay with me, please." our noses touch, and i can no longer distinguish his tears from mine. "i'll do better, i swear."

"it's not going to work."

"just for tonight at least, please," it comes out ragged, and he grazes his lips on mine, leaving a gentle but salty peck. "just for a little bit."

this shouldn't be happening. it's a mess, all of it. no matter how hard or how many times we try, even if we start all over again, we'll just end up in the same place. i know how i am and how he is. our love is tainted, a ticking bomb. so no matter how much i love him, how much i want him, i know we'll just go back to those screaming matches and broken pictures.

but if we keep doing this again and again, maybe then we won't have to say goodbye. at least i won't have to spend an entire lifetime missing him. so maybe just one night won't hurt, right? i've done it a million times. staying for just a little bit won't hurt…i think.

okay, just for a little bit.

#matty healy x reader #matty healy angst #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty x reader #the 1975 fanfic

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txtmetonight · 2 months

Text

First Love/Late Spring

call summary ⋆ ★ Kang Taehyun was your first love. And you're slowly coming to a realization that he may also become your first heartbreak.

pairing *. * Kang Taehyun x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Angst, Fluff

warnings *. Underage Drinking/Smoking, Crude Language, bad grammar because I was lazy to properly check it

call duration⋆ ★ 10.3k...

a/n*. * lmao guess who got the flu and the stomach bug at the same time. I love my life. but this one is a little more fluffier and may have gone a little bit overboard with it...oops but that's alr

taglist ⋆ ★ @kflixnet//@oreoqueen // @woncheecks//@probably-too-obssessed// @matcha-binz

The Mitski Diaries Masterlist

You used to watch the night sky and the morning sunrise through your open window, wishing for something new. The birds chirped at your woes and the crickets stayed quiet for your tears, for the love in your heart couldn’t be contained in its chamber. You prayed and prayed to the ones above for someone to love.

A person to cherish in this small town of yours, a boy who could handle the sticky smell of fish that your family harvested by the seashore, who could adore every one of your insecurities and turn them into something more.

And in return for the cries that were wasted to mother earth herself, she whispered to fate to gift you with Kang Taehyun; your best friend turned boyfriend.

You’ve known Kang Taehyun for your whole life, quite literally because he was born in the room right next to yours, both crying out just intervals apart...or that’s how your moms explained it. You were a cranky child, and he was quiet, but then the roles switched as you both grew older and suddenly you were the meek one while he chattered with anyone and everyone.

That’s why you suppose at the ripe age of ten, you believed that he wouldn’t like you, not when other gorgeous girls were chasing his heart. More confident ones that stood their ground and weren’t cowardly in actions and thoughts. Opposites of yours in nature, perhaps were his types, you would often think about.

But he had proven you wrong in fourth grade at the Valentine’s Day dance, he had gotten on stage during the talent show section, sung his heart out, and then proposed that he liked you into the mic. He then proceeded to jump off from the not-too-tall platform and handed you red roses that were behind his back.

It was safe to say that you shyly accepted the flowers with a bright grin on your face, pulling him into a tight tug that caused a chain reaction of hoots from students around you.

The black hole Of the Window Where you sleep

You’ve been dating Kang Taehyun for eight years, close to nine, and though you haven’t noticed it until now, you’re slowly being sucked into a hole of anguish that you’re not sure you can handle. For as long as you can remember, he’d always been ambitious, too passionate about the outside world. This town you two were born in, has locked him in chains.

Held him back from chasing his dreams that you were guilty of thinking were unnecessary and stupid. Not that you would ever tell him that–of course not. But who could blame you, when all you wanted to do was to stay in the comfort of the ocean waves? You desired to stay, and he wished to go.

But that you would have many more years to think upon that, no? Maybe you could change his mind?

You’ve been staring at Taehyun’s house for a while, hair slowly swaying against the wind that blows by; cooling down your burning skin. You look at it from different angles, observing every tiny detail, every flaw that you could find in the dead of night.

The moon provided a sense of light that was strong and mighty. For years on, you’ve put away the terrifying thought of growing up, where he had to ultimately leave you for his own good. You wouldn’t believe it at first, so you tucked it behind a string of memories, but now it had slowly resurfaced as reality had set its unbreakable path for him. And you’re forced to come to terms with it.

How had time flown so much already?

Closing your eyes, your lips tremble as you sink your back against the tiles of your roof. Stars glittered the space above, watching curiously as a young woman tossed and turned. The same stars that have watched you and Taehyun tumble into the overgrown grass below, hide in bushes to scare the neighborhood kids, and kiss softly near the shimmery sea. You suppose that they would miss him too.

After all, you have only a few more months until graduation.

You and Taehyun had decided to skip school today and run towards the kids' playground, down by a passing of trees that wind up into a swing set and into a large play set that had a multitude of slides and ladders. Your uniform had been ruffled in its attempt to be free from your skirt, your socks were at different lengths, and your hair was a mess, but Taehyun thought that you were the most gorgeous woman alive. He couldn’t get enough of you he thinks, as you’re in arms, stupidly in love with him, with both of your bodies crammed in a tunnel.

He likes to think that time and space has stopped when it’s you and him together, just to make him feel better but taking one look outside, he knows that could never happen as much as he wished on a shooting star. Your parents were going to be worried soon, maybe you two should–

“Tyunnie, we should go before I sleep on you,” You yawn, rubbing your eyes as you try to peel off him, but it was hard at the way that he pressed into you with his nose at your nape. “I would just carry you, if you did actually fall asleep,” He chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead, before helping you crawl out of the tunnel.

“Nuh uh. You would’ve left me to rot and get eaten by the wolves!”

Taehyun sighs, “You’ve been spending too much time with Ryujin lately. She’s corrupted you, sweetheart.” He goes to clasp your hand with his, and suddenly your heart aches. You trace the pathways with your eyes, relishing the bittersweet moment that wraps around your throat holding you tight.

“No, she hasn’t.” You grasp his hand tighter, afraid that he’s going to disappear, hiding in the silence of your words.

Looking at you, Taehyun notices that you’ve been too quiet, and it hurts him at the way that you look crestfallen, with your stunning lips always downturned. He knows why. But he still asks for your answer, in hopes that you will still talk to him.

“What’s wrong? You usually would’ve talked my head off by now.” He softly jokes, brushing your hair out your face, carefully watching you contort your smile into something near plastic. “Nothing much. I–” You struggle with the way that your tongue ties in your mouth, but Taehyun was the beating of your heart, so he understands the way that your fingers shake against him.

The night breeze Carries

“I...I want peaches.” Your head shoots up at Taehyun, smiling as his eyes recognize the sweet smell that perfumes the area. “Fucking hell...” He grins, pressing his lips to your hands. “Peach trees!” You tug at his arms, as you both run in a whole other direction that your homes were but being a few minutes late to supper wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Trees that held peaches were your favorite trees. Pies that were made with peaches were your favorite pies. Wine that was fermented from peaches was your favorite beverage. Taehyun’s lips coated in the sweet peach nectar, were how you liked to kiss him best.

You loved peaches, he loved peaches. One night he had proposed that he had a dream with you that you two had owned a peach farm. You two were dressed quite funnily, with big straw hats that carried a family of mice, but it was cute. Oh, and Hobak was there too.

Your smile diminishes at the thought, but you won’t let it ruin your mood, not when you still must make more happy memories with Taehyun by your side. “It smells so good!” You whine, trying to gasp for breath that you left behind while on your hunt for the fruit. “Gosh, what am I going to do with you?” He laughs, which funnily disappears into an echo when he tries to reach for the fruit, but grazes with it when he jumps.

You snort at the way that his eyebrows furrow, putting up your hands when he tries to send you an intimidating look. “Get out of the way loser, let the pro do her work!” He rolls his eyes as you try to climb the tree itself, but he’s right behind you making sure you don’t fall off. When you get on onto a shaky branch, his hold on your hips makes you dizzy and dopey but you don’t let up on your mission for the fruit.

Grabbing the nearest one without straining yourself, you hand it to Taehyun who stores it in his pockets. And then you give another one, and then another, and then another, before both of your boyfriend’s pockets and your hands are full.

Turning your head, your eyes flicker to the ground and then you congratulate yourself for pondering a good idea. “Hey Tae, throw your blazer on the ground!” His lips twist but he doesn’t complain, putting his blazer on top of the soft grass just as you asked him to. Crouching against the tree, you gently throw the peaches onto the piece of clothing before you lift your body again, this time holding a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“Catch me, baby!” You squeal, and Taehyun predicts it as he steps forward and swooshes you from the sky, barely even grunting when you land in his arms. He’s gotten used to the weight of your body against him, and it makes him fuzzy when you land a kiss on his nose when he curls his biceps.

“Hate you.”

“Sure, you do.” You gingerly say, looking into his eyes. You seem to be searching for something under the expanse of his iris, but when you don’t find anything, you wrap your hands around his neck, swallowing deeply at his penetrating gaze.

“You better eat a lot of peaches in the states.”

He scoffs, “We don’t even know if I got in or not yet.” You nod and grab the fruit from his trousers, feeding yourself with it. “You definitely did. My gut tells me it and whenever have I ever been wrong?” You know that even if he doesn’t get the letter through the mail, he’s going to leave anyway. You think that’s worse.

“Or that’s your stomach growling, idiot.” He flicks your forehead before he too takes a bite out from the peach in your hand, juices rolling down your hand. It’s sticky but feels nice on your skin.

“You’re not very nice, are you?” You stick your tongue at him but take his lips softly underneath the soft leaves of the peach tree. You two soon engrave the initials of your love in the bark, admiring the tan hiding below the dark brown of the wood.

Something sweet A peach tree

Wild women don't get the blues

You don’t think you’ve ever found Rei Yujin’s and Park Sungho’s teasing this annoying before. It was a stuffy spring day that forced the school to finally turn on their ACs for the sake of not overheating. It was finally break time, and a popsicle was in hand as well in the hold of the other younger two after they had begged you to buy them some. But you were on the verge of shoving the sweet treat up their noses if they didn’t zip their mouths shut soon.

“I heard that Taehyun is leaving soon?” Yujin slightly tugs at your hair as you pull out a book to read to ignore them, a great grin on her face as she nudges her friend. “Oh yeah me too! You’re finally going to be single soon (Y/n)!”

Ouch.

“What’s it with you two if he’s actually leaving? It doesn’t concern you guys at all.”

“No, I guess not...” The girl trails off, leaning back in her chair. You wish that they would leave you alone, though you know that they were just teasing you. But it still hurt. A lot. Fingers tracing the pages of the book, you flip each one without even scanning a word or two; you’re immersed in your own brain as of now.

“Oh Yujin, what if he finds a hot sexy girl? You know the one that we find on TV; Kate Winslet style with her rich, red hair and her beautiful skin and her–”

“Tits? You fucking pervert!” Yujin smacks his head and they're both giggling at each other, while you stopped listening to their words the moment, they mention Taehyun finding another woman. Your feet tap against the ground with an anxious tremor that you wish to stop. You haven’t cried in so long with others around; no, you’re not a crybaby. You’re strong and you deserve to sneak in some soju from your parent’s shed.

“You know what would be funny though. Taehyun forgetting her.” Sungho nods along with her, his head in his palms as he watches your back quiver, you’re finally catching onto their jokes, and you just don’t want to admit it!

But I find that Lately I've been crying like a Tall child

“That would! It would make a great show. Girl and boy who dearly love each other, but he leaves and finds another–shit that rhymed! "He rejoices and turns to you to make sure you’ve heard him. “Hey (Y/n) did you hear that? I rhymed. I fuck–(Y/n)?” Drops slowly splatter onto your book, marking the pages with your heartbreak.

You start to sob with flushed cheeks, unable to hold back. You’re busted up in all the ways possible as if their mere quips were stones that bruised your insides. You don’t know what you would ever do if Taehyun had forgotten you, not when you think of your life, you think of him.

The two kids start to panic at your outburst and start to shoo the other kids (it was just a poor boy, who was playing Mario on his switch) away to save your face. You feel ashamed and pitiful as Yujin tries to dry your tears and sends Sungho away to call your boyfriend, which you desperately try to croak out not to, but they can’t hear you through your blubber of tears. You feel like a kid again, like your joints were aching as they grew shorter and shorter, teeth painfully being replaced with their baby ones.

You’re (Y/n) (L/n) and eighteen years old, simultaneously portraying as a five-year-old crying in grief. In sadness of a wounding change that could alter your life forever.

“We’re so sorry (Y/n). We–we didn’t know, well–” She stumbles before she’s interrupted by the door opening, revealing one worried boyfriend and your...peer that looks like a sheet of paper. “Please leave,” Taehyun demands, and the poor kids squeak at the way that his eyes narrow, running past him in guilt and fear.

Slow steps that hold heaviness that weighed in his heart make your stomach churn as tender hands come to cup your cheek.

“Sweetheart...” He tries, but you move away from his touch, and it breaks him a little. Taehyun grabs your fingers and presses them to his lips and then to his chest, soaking in the way that you cry even harder at the gesture. He’s seen you cry a plentiful of times, but it’s more intimate this time the way that the pain seeps through his veins, slowly suffocating him alive.

He then realizes that he never wants to see you cry. Taehyun starts to sob alongside you, quiet tears leaking from his eyes,

“Do you know how to make a scrapbook?” He starts off slowly, mouth shaking when he feels your fingers wipe away the tears that cascade beautifully down his cheeks. You nod at his question and release a shaky breath to let him continue. “I want to mark our moments together, on pages. Happily, together.” He stares sadly at you, which makes you giggle at the way that his eyes represent boba pearls.

“Did I say something wrong?” He cocks his head, and you say nothing but smile, whispering quietly that all you needed was a good cry session. Taehyun opens his mouth to say something, but the shrill ring of the bell stops him midway. Swiftly wiping your tears and his, he leans in closer by your ear.

“I love you.”

And then he leaves you to be as your classmates come pouring in, aware of the miserable gaze that follows him out.

You don’t know if you can do this anymore. A knife runs deeper into your flesh, each day as you look at the calendar, counting the days off to your heart’s demise. You don’t know why it hurts so much, watching him leave.

But you suppose you’ll love him forever, no? But maybe it hurts to think that he won’t love you but pondering about it longer, it would probably be worse if he still did for the reason, that you won’t be there to experience his heart for a while. A while too long for you to handle. But for Taehyun you’ll do anything for him to be happy.

And so that night, you let him sneak into your room, one hand over your eyes and the other over your shoulders, assisting you over the tree branches. “I don’t understand why you have to cover my eyes,” You pout and he just chuckles, slightly grunting trying to get past a thick branch without tripping.

“Because I want it to be a surprise–come on sweetheart, lift your legs for me for a second.” Your cheeks burn as you do what he says, squeaking when your flip-flops hit the ground.

“If you kill me then I swear I’ll haunt you forever.”

Taehyun snorts before he tightly grabs your hand, pulling you along away from your driveway. “You won’t die...if you hold onto me tight enough.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words, feet dragging against the gravel wondering what he was planning. He was quite unpredictable; you could never guess what he would do.

“What do you mean–holy fuck is that a motorcycle!?”

His hands leave your eyes and reveal a shiny black motorcycle, polished in its glory. Two matching helmets hung from the handlebars, still as they put on a show for you two; it looked absolutely ethereal.

“Where did you get that?” You murmur, stalking forward to swipe your finger against the cool, metal, smiling when Taehyun kisses your cheek before getting on the seat. “Asked old Mr. Hwang for it, and after bribing him with money, I was able to get my hands on this!”

He then gently pulls you behind him and tucks your arms around his fit waist, handing you one of the helmets to put on. “I know how much you wanted this, baby. Go on a ride with me through the dark?”

Butterflies flutter through your stomach with great ferocity, their wings graze your throat. You think you’re going insane at the way that he squeezes your arms, looking at you for an answer. And who are you to deny him?

“Of course. I would love to.” You sweetly twinkle, clicking in the straps of your helmet and reaching your arms forward to do the same with your boyfriend...before you realize something. “Wait Tae, do you even know how to drive this!?”

“Er not really. But I’ll figure it out on the way.” He says with a little too much confidence that it partly scares you, to only receive a heart attack when the engine awakens to life. “Oh god, please don’t let us die!” Throwing your body closer, you close your eyes against his back, mouth pressed together when the wheels start moving.

“Stop being so dramatic. And I promise nothing will happen to you or to me!”

His words bring you little comfort that quickly leaves your soul, the minute that he bends forward, speeding up the vehicle, forcing tears into your eyes from the intense wind that flies by. “Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!” You cry, hugging him tighter against you, when the bike trembles a little.

“Open your eyes!” He looks back for a second before your hands slap his helmet forward, roughly patting his back when he finds it funny at the way you worry. But honestly, when you told him that you wished to go on a motorcycle ride with him, dead at night, you were particularly sure that you did not want to die while you were at it.

“(Y/n)!” Taehyun whines, making you grumble against him, but you still lift your face from his back and open your eyes just as he says.

“Woah...” The passing sea, just where it got too deep for anyone to visit was glowing green, almost as if some kid had decided to color the deep blue with a green glow stick. Just a few meters away from the coast stood tall trees that illuminated the green. “So pretty–you better not say anything cheesy!” You point towards the side mirrors, having fun at the way that he shakes his head and says, “You got me there.”

You don’t exactly think about where he was taking you to, nor did you really care. But how could you? With Taehyun by your side for the moment, everything feels right, like the earth has finally found its missing puzzle piece that’s been missing for a gazillion of billions of years.

But the place that he drives you to is something that jolts your heart, turning your gaze to his curious expression that expresses something shy of sheepishness; his own look that was only reserved for you to read like a map.

A large billboard stands tall and high, and painted in white letters on either side of the board read, “Welcome to Moaville” and the other “Goodbye, hope you’ll visit us soon again.” Taehyun cuts off the bike and helps you off before he takes the helmet from your hand, which you weakly drop.

“Why are we here?” You ask, but you immediately know why, when he pulls out a small picture-sized book with empty pages and a small polaroid that were both hidden in a satchel that were both masked from sight. You take the camera from his hands, and bring it up to look through the lenses, smiling when you find Taehyun already looking at you.

“Take a picture of me?” He poses, looking a little goofy but endearing, so you nod (you were already planning to anyways) and click the button on top, creating a blinding flash. Almost immediately the film starts to slowly make its way to the top which you pull out and shake.

“Did you make me look good?” He asks, walking to your side to look at the emerging photo. “You always look good,” You whisper, sighing when you were right; he looked almost ghostly in the picture but still handsome as ever.

Fingers placed on your chin; he pulls your face towards him. “You make me feel good.” He rasps and pulls you to sit down on the side where it says goodbye. Taehyun was someone you had to study through the lines, he was subtle in the way that he hinted at his true feelings, so you started to have a knack for observing when it came to him.

Ogling at the board, you imagine that if he had left you now, the sense of surprise would’ve bandaged the wound for now.

You envision him saying ‘goodbye’ and walking into the night, leaving you alone. But what pains more is the ‘I love you’ he cries to you.

You decide that when the day comes, you’re going to shut him off with a kiss because his words break the fragile bones that you hold, the ones that could puncture your heart from the way that it feels like it’s going to explode. Especially when Taehyun himself has gone glazy-eyed staring into the distance.

So please hurry leave me I can't breathe Please don't say you love me 胸がはち切れそうで

“We should start,” You say, taking the bag from beside him and dumping everything out, shocked to see the numerous pictures that slide out. “Where did you get all of these from?” You question, softly counting to yourself.

“I have my ways.”

“Creepy” You laugh, before you abruptly stop, stomach turning in at itself as you pick up a photograph of you and him; a seemingly innocent one, but it held many memories that you hold dear to your heart. “You still have this...” You lean on his shoulder, fingers looping around him while you hold the picture–or rather a newspaper clipping in front of you two.

“I saved it for memories...(Y/n) I have something to tell you.”

Eyes darting towards him, you feel a sense of dread start to eat you slowly up from your feet at the way that they go numb. “Sure. Go ahead.” Perhaps he didn’t expect your consent soon enough or he was lost in his own brain once again, but his ears turned red.

“My dad booked the tickets, I’m leaving next month, exactly on this date.”

You don’t say anything.

“But if my admission letter comes in, then I’ll probably have more time here with you.” He reasons, but he doesn’t sound hopeful, not when you refuse to look at him, but instead stare intently at the tiny faces peering back at you two, hair strewn across your faces, clothes wet. Not much older than ten or eleven.

After hearing the unbearable silence, you choose to comment. “We look so young.”

He softly rumbles, “We do, don’t we.”

“We should go back.” You close your eyes against the metal poles that cut into your head,

“Yeah. Just for a moment.”

“Come on (Y/n)! Don’t be a wuss!”

“I’m not a wuss!” You yell, but you don’t feel so confident in yourself, waves of anxiety rolling through your veins as the water below turns into a whirlpool of dizziness, closing in on itself. The sun burns through your skin and the jagged rocks underneath your bare feet makes you reel with discomfort.

You weren’t meant to discover this spot, nor were children even allowed near it, but a group of friends you desperately wanted to fit in with had cut through the thick woods and found this beauty of a sight.

And so, they were making you jump off the ledge of a very steep cliff, that for sure held fatal boulders that would for sure, rip you in half the moment that you made contact with them. Not that they carried though–the group at least. They whooped and whistled at each passing step you took, mocking the way that you shivered, contradicting the very hot summer heat.

“Guys I don’t think this is a very good idea.” A small voice cuts through the tension as one of the girls, Wonyoung, steps up before she’s shot down with menacing glares. “Do you want to go up with her too?”

It’s sick at the way that the group coos at her, but they don’t have to do much to intimidate her because with a shake of her head, she backs away and gives you a sympathetic smile. You huff softly as you kick at the ground, you should really learn how to stand up for yourself.

“What are you waiting for? Jump!” You’ve dazed too long into space to notice how much closer they’ve gotten to you, too close for you to turn back. “I’m not goi–”

Everyone freezes at the sounds of laughter that echo from the trees, breath stilling in their throats, and you take it as a chance to take a few steps away from the edge, but you’re quickly stopped when one of them harshly grabs your arm, twisting it. “You like Taehyun, don’t you?”

Taehyun? Looking back at the group of kids that also stumble around at the crumbling ground below them, one voice sticks out to you out of the five boys that made their appearance.

Black hair that flopped around and glasses that were pulled down to the very tip of his nose, without no doubt that was Taehyun and his friends. He wasn’t the first one to be aware of you yet–first, it was Beomgyu who waved at you excitedly, which set out a ripple effect.

Greeting them back nervously, your feet slide as the girl grins back at you again, a vicious smile that seemed to pierce.

“You're going to jump, or I’ll make Taehyun take your place instead.” You were bewildered at the way that she said it so assuredly. “No, he won’t. He’s not stupid.” You snort, trying to push her away.

“You don’t know that? One of the boys could accidentally push him in. In fact, isn’t Mark friends with him? Aw is poor (Y/n) going to let her friend take the fall for her.”

You shake your head as tears spring into your eyes, and she finally lets you go so you can spin around and face the sky itself before it dips down into the deep blue.

Your limbs are like jelly, and you almost pass out, but you still hold your ground. By now the group behind, softly chants its words of encouragement and your toes are just over the cliff, but you can’t let Taehyun jump in, he could barely even swim, nevertheless seeing him on the rocks below would just be horrible!

“You’re almost there (Y/n).” She gives you a little nudge, chuckling at the way you try to grasp onto the air for support for the one last time.

Though she’s right, you’re right there...and so you tuck your head and close your eyes, so you won’t see your blood once they contacted with whatever had in store for you.

And you jump.

One word from you and I would Jump off of this Ledge I'm on Baby

“What was that?” Huening Kai asks, perking up at the loud splash that the others definitely had heard too, from the way that their eyes curiously scan the area. “I don’t know–did someone fall in?” Soobin gasps, getting up and watching the group of kids, huddle around near the tip of a rock face, dangerously close with camera out.

“Should we go? Isn’t (Y/n) there?” Taehyun swerves his head up and nods, dragging the rest of the group to march with him as he searches for your features among the sea of people, just along the steep hill, that looked as if any more weight was to be added, then it would break off right under their feet.

But when he doesn’t find you, his nerves electrify, and his hands without even knowing tug one of the members (Beomgyu) by their sleeve, footsteps heavy.

“Where’s (Y/n)?” He says, loudly, pushing past people to get to the very edge where a girl stands, obnoxious sounds of pictures going off, which forces him to gently tug her backward, asking with a nervous fervor where you were.

And when her eyes go blank and looks over to the side, he knows what had happened. “What the hell is wrong with you? Soobin call the ambulance!” Yeonjun who comprehends the gravity of the situation, responds quicker and already has 119 pulled up on his phone, eyes widened while the others join him, providing needed answers.

At the word of the police dropping by, the group disperses quickly, but Taehyun doesn’t let the girl go, pushing her towards one of his friends in the hopes that they wouldn’t let her slip out of their arms.

His hands ruffle through his hair, try to think logically but when he doesn’t see any sign of you, all of his rational reasoning gets thrown out of the window. So, he leaps.

Taehyun didn’t have the chance to hear his friend’s muffled words, but he could guess what they were saying, by the way that they screamed at him. The cold water overloads his senses, driving him out of control as the sharp edges of rock cut at his skin, drawing unknown amounts of blood.

His legs are stiff as he tries to reach back up for the surface, fingers barely even disturbing the top before they drop back to his side. Where were you? Opening his eyes, trying not to pass out from the intense stinging, he finds nothing but pure darkness with a few pieces of algae floating around.

His brain is muddled, and he can’t swim upwards, or even kick when his limbs have suddenly gained at least more than his weight, dragging him down. His nose scrunches at the lack of oxygen, hands slowly starting to stop flailing. Taehyun was starting to get tired...

Only for the sunlight to burn his eyes, the blue sky just overhead instead of the water bubbles that escaped his mouth. He chokes ferociously, but the warm pair of hands wrapped around him keeps his body grounded.

“Are you crazy?”

Taehyun softly smiles at the words, now able to tread water but you still don’t let go of his shoulders, wet hair sticking to your face making you look slightly crazed, but you still look stunning in his eyes. “You’re okay,” He weakly groans, when his wounds on his legs blaze with fire.

“Of course, I’m okay! Are you okay? Jesus! Why would you do that?” He shrugs and observes the large cut across your cheek, raw and red with a layer of skin peeking underneath. Taehyun’s fingers slowly move to your cheeks, heart full at the way that you don’t flinch against his salty touch, staring at him intently.

“I’m okay...the boys are calling the ambulance, and if they ask, say that she pushed you in.” He doesn’t leave any room for comments, pulling you close against him. You breathe heavily at his affection, a big smile that sent sparks through your spine.

“And do you remember when the police came in and they like started had to tackle down Yeji because she tried to run away from them!” You laugh, clutching your stomach, beach chairs pulled up at the edge of a very ‘homely’ cliff.

“I do! And then we still got grounded like forever, even though we didn’t even do anything.” You wince, you remember how bad the isolation was, stuck in your room only able to use made-sign language to talk to him through your bedroom window.

The chair beside you, groans as Taehyun pulls himself off from it, stretching as the early sun wisps around his body, eyes fluttering close against the fresh air. You watch him from behind, smile growing at how captivating he was, with the golden rays showcasing him like an angel. Turning around to face you, he holds out your arm to take and you giggle at the way that he pulls you into his chest. He’s warm.

Feet bare without any shoes, you both track your way to the edge once again, feeling deja vu at the way that your heart starts racing, but you’re not sure if it’s because of how ethereal Taehyun looks next to you or...the rushing water below.

You’ve both grown, so there wasn’t really a chance of drowning as your feet both grazed against the sandy floor, just enough to have your head bobbing over the surface, and rocks below were excavated away after your incident, but you tiedy to immerse yourself in the feelings of first love–with him by your side.

You both now look at the water below and agree to swim back to the sand shore, where you get a hit of nostalgia after you two were rescued, your town’s news reporters stand there with bated breaths and Taehyun has to roughly push past them as he covered you in his wet shirt. Looking at him, you already find him staring at him with gentle eyes that hold so much emotion you feel like you were already tangled sunk deep in the warm sea.

Jerking your head away so he couldn’t see your red blush, you sigh and decide to tell him something you haven’t told him before–though you know he’s suspected it before. “I jumped in because Yeji kept telling me that she would push you instead, so imagine my surprise, when I see you in the water with me.” You pause to catch his lips. “I would do anything for you.”

He grins, and grips your hips, nuzzling into your head and gosh he really reminded you of his cat. “I know you would...me too. I would do anything for you too.”

Your head spins at his words and you pretend that both of you could actually do everything and anything for each other. You wish that he could tell you not to come with him, willingly so you could heed his wishes with a tail tucked behind your back. That you wouldn’t have to feel so much sorrow because you didn’t want to leave and explore the world.

Tell me "don't" So I can Crawl back in

Taehyun clutches your hand tightly.

And you both jump.

You don’t actually smoke a cig as much as you used to. Cigarette sales for you were during freshman and sophomore years of high school when you would hide underneath the school bleachers, perhaps it was stress, or maybe because all the older high schoolers found themselves with you and Taehyun rather than in their own classroom because they claimed that you two were rather cooler than the other freshies.

And a group activity turned into two, because the others would have graduated a year later, you two had found comfort in heavy soju that sent you into a spiral.

But it was never too much that you had let your grades drop, no Taehyun would ever allow that. So, it wasn’t too bad and you two had limited yourself more and more as you both got older, only a few smokes every few months until you completely stopped.

You’ve never liked the smell that it left or the smoky haze, but it still felt nice to feel a little more grown-up, just a bit cooler than you literally were. You wish you were young again though.

And I was so young When I behaved Twenty five

You’re both under the science hallway stairs this time because the bleachers were closely monitored after someone was caught making out, but if you close your eyes, you can feel the tense atmosphere of the whines of your school’s ever losing football team.

Taehyun has his phone out, trying to blink through the reeking vapor. You're both trying to calculate how many days he has until he must leave, how many more opportunities you both have to recreate as many old photos as you both can to put in the scrapbook.

You two have already dressed in tight clothing and have posed shamelessly, climbed to the top of the town’s playground, screaming at the top of your lungs, redoing his first proposal to you, except this time during prom, where he stole the mic again and much more which included Soobin taking a picture of you two dripping wet from last’s adventure–which was a while ago.

Finals had come up, and you two were stuck studying until you passed out.

You and Taehyun passed with flying colors–thank god.

“We have fifteen more days” You croak, finger sliding against his screen. That was a day over two weeks and grad was just in another seven days. “You’re right, time’s been flying fast.” You nod, “Way too fast.”

“We should figure out a way to stop time. Or maybe a time machine.” He says, pulling out his camera. You both get in position, just as in the old picture near your Converse, mouths tugged in the same way, both looking at each other raising finger guns near your faces.

This photograph was probably your favorite one.

“(Y/n) would you be a sweetheart and go get the mail?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you get up from Taehyun’s bed and stalk to the top of the stairs to see Taehyun’s mom, holding a pair of keys with a soft smile that looks extremely like your boyfriend’s.

“Of course, I was waiting for Taehyun anyway, he’s taking a shower right now!” Your steps thud against each step, and with a childish grin, you grab the keys from her hand and skip out of the door. It was a very nice day today, and you suppose the grass is greener than ever and the birds are chirping as loud as they can be.

A few neighbors are mowing their lawns, waving hello when you walk past them, your own father rolling his eyes when you laugh at him. The mailbox isn’t far, and it doesn’t take you too long for you to insert the key, pulling the little door open to find a bunch of letters and a small package that was able to squeeze past the small space.

Fingers cramming underneath the stack of white paper, you manage to pull everything out in one go, just a few falling out from your grasp, clicking your tongue when they touch the concrete below. You bend your knees to grab one.

“No fucking way.”

Now all the letters are on the ground.

Because you’ve let them go from the shock of seeing Taehyun’s name printed on the backside with San Fransisco, just right below it–Taehyun had gotten accepted.

Your arms don’t feel attached when you robotically pick everything up, Taehyun’s acceptance letter shaking in your hands. Flipping the envelope around, your fingers itch to open it but you quickly tuck it under your arm and walk back to Taehyun’s house in a much duller mood.

You suppose that you’re happy, Taehyun gets to spend more time with you, and he’ll be able to stay longer in this small town. But it still stabs you inside–he’s leaving in any situation, and you can’t do anything about it.

When you get back to his house, you let yourself in through the cracked door and meet his parents by the dining table, placing all but one of the mail down on the countertop, mouth cracking open as you hold his acceptance letter up.

“Taehyun got mail back from California!”

“Seriously?”

“What.”

Two voices overlap with each other, one a little more joyous and higher his mother and father rising from their seat in surprise. The other was weak with a tone you couldn’t exactly recognize. Facing the boy behind you, your hands deliver the letter to him, a smile disappearing at the way that he trembles.

“Tae go ahead and open it, oh god we’re so proud of you.” His mother pinches his cheeks, and his father pats him on his back, but he doesn’t react to any of it, just staring at you instead.

Something’s wrong and you know it.

“Mrs. Kang, did you guys not check the mailbox recently? They usually send acceptance letters quite earlier than now.” You make talk as Taehyun slowly rips open the letter, popping off easily so he can slide his fingers to pull out the paper. “We did...I made Taehyun go down, just a week ago...and you said that you didn’t find anything right, honey?”

“Mhm.”

Looking up at Taehyun, he avoids your eye, reading the paper out loud, for everyone to read, voice shaking in his throat. But he’s unable to make it through the first few lines, when his dad who was eager enough to read faster than Taehyun’s unbearably slow pace, points out probably the biggest heartbreak of your life.

“Taehyun! They’re letting you fly out to them, early!”

Eyes shooting towards Taehyun’s you’re surprised to see them well up with tears, looking down at his feet as he nods. His mother tugging the paper out from his arms, confirms it with great excitement that you couldn’t reciprocate, hugging her son tightly against her, smothering him with kisses.

Taehyun’s face held something close to when he was caught stealing candy when he was younger...he’d known all about the acceptance letter and that he was going to leave you early, not the opposite that he had promised.

Yet now I find I've grown into A tall child

Taking a step back with anger, you want to throw a tantrum, you want to rip the letter in half like a child. You want to cry and whine while holding onto your mom, telling her to make it stop, to not let him go. You greatly wished to clutch onto his leg like a petulant toddler.

But you don’t. Instead, you ask, “When does he have to...go?” Your voice is weak, but the parents don’t take notice and reply with a merry “May sixteenth.” The day after graduation. Taehyun’s hand reaches out to you, but you gently swat it away and tap on his mother’s shoulder with a smile that blubbered when it spoke. “My father had just texted me; I have to go home.”

Mouth twisting at your abruptness, she nods, “All right then! Tell your parents not to make dinner, we’re going to celebrate tonight!” You agree to mention it to them, but you’re not sure you want to see Taehyun that night, so you quickly walk to the front door, saying goodbye.

You’re furious, and you bet that if anyone looked outside their window, they would’ve asked who that big baby is that’s stomping wildly across the road, not looking both sides to realize that there was a car that doesn’t even dare to beep.

“Watch out!”

Your body spins around, as your skirt hits the bumper of the car, but you're safely in the hands of your lying boyfriend, eyes big as saucers when he looks down at you. “(Y/n) how many times did I tell you to check the road before crossing the street!”

“Yet you couldn’t tell me that you were going to leave early!?” You pull away from him and keep on marching down the road, aware of the way that Taehyun follows your footsteps, keeping close by. “I’m so sorry (Y/n), I just didn’t know how to tell you!”

“Oh, fuck off, Taehyun!”

A mother cups the ears of her young son’s ears, sending you two a glare that you couldn’t care about. “(Y/n) Come on, please! Listen to me!” He cries, running ahead to stop you from your tracks, taking in all the kicks that you throw at him, angrily giving up when he scrunches his nose too hard at a very strong particular punch to his stomach.

“Were you going to leave me without telling me?”

He huffs, trying to regain his breath but he shakes his head. “No, of course not, I–”

“Then why didn’t you tell me when you actually found out. Do you think that I was going to care? You’re me leaving anyways!” You’re harsh with your words and he winces.

“Fuck, I’m sorry I didn’t mea–”

“No, it’s alright.” He hangs his head shamefully, and he shakily sobs when you come closer. “I couldn’t come to terms with it. I didn’t want to leave you sooner, I just wanted to pretend that you were going to be with me forever, even though...”

“You should stay, but you can’t” You wipe the tears from his face, and you find it ironic that this time, you’re in his place, comforting him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I could never be too mad at you for a long time. You’re probably going to come visit us anyway, so I don’t know why I blew it out of proportion.”

The look he sends you churns your stomach a little, but he pushes you along to your house, smiling through the crack of the door before you close it on him.

“Get pretty for me, baby.”

When it comes to the time for the dinner party that his parents both hosted for him, you two locked yourself in his room that night, admiring the way that the other looked for the last few times.

Graduation had come fast as you and all your other friends and your boyfriend sat at a round table, all wearing the same attire. You’ve come to enjoy the lovely atmosphere and the beautiful memories, you’d shared with each other, which you’re now using against them in a game of “Who’s going to cry first.”

Jay and Gaeul were currently sobbing against each other, Sunghoon was holding a staring contest with a tree, Ningning was cursing as her tears fell, trying to gaslight the others that she wasn’t actually crying...and everyone else was doing something somewhere in the middle.

You, Huening, and Taehyun laugh, teasing the people that you’ve grown up with, holding a bittersweet heart that wishes to never stop beating for them.

“Alright, shall we start our ceremony then? Please welcome the graduates of 20XX!”

One by one, everyone leaves to get their diploma that many have shed tears into, cheering as they run to their family waiting for them in the crowd. You watch with big eyes and chuckle when Jake manages to trip over the steps and flip his econ teacher off, drumming your fingers on your table, patiently sitting to be called, exchanging looks with your boyfriend.

“Kang Taehyun!”

You yell loudly as the boy next to you shushes you when he gets up, but his face is flushed with happiness when he walks across the stage, and you’re unable to tear your eyes from him–he’s quite mesmerizing, to say the least.

And when it comes time for you to walk, he swears that you look like an angel that has graced everyone with your presence, but Jake gags and pushes him away to hug you, congratulating you. You’re severely happy and your cheeks hurt, from the amount of smiling that you’ve done in the past few hours.

A hand creeps up to your shoulder, and suddenly there are a bunch of carnations sitting in your hand, feeling shy when Gaeul points it out and starts teasing you and your boyfriend for being sappy.

And I don't wanna go home yet Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

You don’t want this day to end, you want to stay young forever you think. But you managed to capture the feelings with a click of a camera, tugging Taehyun to kiss, when the flash goes off and everyone screams “cheese”.

Please hurry leave me I can't breathe

The open window didn’t help your lungs, as it struggled to take in air, heartbeat shattering against its cavity in a tremendous matter. Next to you sits Kang Taehyun in his glory, using the scenery as an excuse to look at you. It was midday but the roads weren’t littered with cars, leaving a clear path for the Kang’s family car to roll down easily. The radio chattered with nonsense, but it was turned down over an important conversation Taehyun and his mother were having.

“Please be careful when you get there!”

He scoffs and crosses his arms, “I feel like you’ve told me that over a hundred times. I promise I’ll be safe!” Flinching, when you smack him over the head, telling his mom that he was being incredibly rude and that he should apologize to her–just to make him a little annoyed for your fun. “Oh, I can’t believe how grown up you two are. I just remember when the both of you were able to fit in the palms of our hands.”

That cues Mrs. Kang's emotional tears and her rambles about life, comforted by her husband and the silent chuckles that you leave behind your hands. But you understand how she feels, heart aching and eyes bloodshot even after the relentless sobbing you did last night with Taehyun, lying down in his flower garden. You two were able to finally talk about...what you guys were going to have to be. He said

“Long distance, lovers” had a nice ring, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth. And after much back and forth over what title to pick, you decided that a label wasn’t needed if you knew the other with magnificent love.

You wonder what the boy next to you feels–but you don’t really want to face him yet.

“Taehyun you’re sure, you’ve got everything, from here on we can’t do anything else if you’ve forgotten anything.” His father reminds him as he rolls into the airport parking lot, sighing deeply when he finds you two in awe of the airplanes that fly out, disappearing into the blue sky in mere seconds.

“I’m sure. I made (Y/n) and Mom check it for me too.” He then gets out of the car and helps his dad unpack two large suitcases that he was able to shove his whole life into, clenching his fists when the trunk of the car closes right behind him.

He lets his father carry his suitcase so he can hold you flush against him, smiling blindingly with eyes that get bigger at the glass elevator and even larger at the great doors that lead him inside to where he could check himself in.

“Shit this is huge...” You murmur up to him, clutching the back of his leather jacket, when the cool rush of air filters in once the sliding doors open. His parents are just right behind, watching you two with their own feelings of sadness, smiles unable to reach their eyes when you kiss his knuckles softly as you two walk up to the counter.

“One ticket for Kang Taehyun!” The elderly woman handed him the paper slip, before telling him to hurry it down to get through security check-in because his flight was going to leave soon. Gulping at the ticket in his hand, you find that you suddenly have a distaste for these particular passes.

You’re not sure what’s worse right now, either that time was going too slow because you don’t know how long your feet are going to give up under you, watching him leave or...

Time going too slow was the worst.

You wish that you could hold him back, but your heart seems to beat erratically, too hard for you to even understand as the approaching gates of the security check-in come into place, families and friends saying goodbyes to their loved ones just beyond a glass window.

The whirling crowd of people seems to disappear as you set your sights on your boyfriend, giving his hand a tight squeeze when you feel the tears start to drown your waterline, blinking them away when the threaten to spill over.

He doesn’t say anything, but squeeze your hand two times more, putting every ounce of his comfort in the gesture.

“Oh, Taehyunnie!” His mom throws herself in his arms, finally indulging in her distress, and you feel like you're watching a drama where she rubs his cheeks and holds him close while he rejects his affections with a red face.

You decide to stay back and let them have their family time, watching them wistfully when Taehyun also starts to tear up, nose beginning to twitch. He whispers sweet words of affirmation which they nod to and at last back up, beckoning you to come closer.

Mrs. Kang stares at her husband before she awkwardly coughs, wiping away her fallen tears. “Dear, we should go get some chocolate from the vending machine, I’m just a bit hungry.” And as he opens his mouth to object, she drags him away, winking in your direction, making you and your boyfriend laugh quietly, turning to each other when it gets too hard to ignore the sick feeling in your stomach.

“You better have fun.” You smile, dusting down his shirt, looking him straight in the eye when he nods slowly. “It won’t be the same, without you being by my side...” He starts to choke and stops your fiddling by tugging your arms over his shoulder, pulling you close while he buries his head in the nape of your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your jaw.

You choose not to say anything, just wanting to relish in this tender moment, your lips pressing gently to his temple, closing your eyes when he hugs you tighter.

Breaking apart, he quickly looks at his watch, and kisses you ever so softly, so warmly that his lips melt into yours, his grip on your clawing into your skin, penetrating the deeper levels, just past your nerves that jumble nervously.

“I’m going to miss you a lot.” You think you’ve spent all your tears already, for you don’t cry and Taehyun seems to have the will in him to suck it up, but there’s those lingering sobs that echo in your hearts and ring in your ears, a connection that you both shared. “I promise to call you every day, actually scrap that–facetime you every day and–”

He yelps when your palm covers his mouth, taking it away when he stops his rambling, staring at you with curious eyes. “You don’t have to do all of that. Just promise me that you’ll visit me again, in our town. I don’t care how much ever it’s going to take you, but please... see me once more. Promise me that.” Your pinky shakes as it raises, holding it towards his heart.

“I–okay. I promise you, sweetheart.”

Taehyun is sincere and it breaks your heart a little. Pulling his finger apart from you, his lips find your forehead, attached to your hairline for quite some time before he’s being forced to pull apart, when his father taps on his shoulder, cocking his head towards the growing line. You swallow deeply and hesitantly let go of his t-shirt, letting it drag through the tips of your fingers.

Taehyun exhales and sends you a watery chuckle, “I love–”

But it hurts, so you shut him up with a swift kiss to his lips, just once more. “Me too. Have a safe flight.” And then you weakly push him, quivering when his parents hug you.

Please don't say you love me 胸がはち切れそうで

You think you're going insane, chasing Taehyun through the glass panels, his parents just behind you while you slide your palms over the cloudy barrier, mimicking Taehyun who just does the same, walking at a fast pace. Until...

He’s gone.

Nights you’ve spent awake, you’ve imagined yourself crumbling onto the ground, crying your heart out, but you don’t. You find yourself turning back and following his melancholic parents back to the car, where they’ll drop you at your house, and perhaps, you’ll cry then.

Months go by and you’re still waiting for a call from Taehyun, the time is a little bit over four in the morning, but you think that another day is about to go amiss. He’s gotten a little busier lately, but you suppose that you would do anything for him, even if it meant waking up at ungodly times so he could call you, patiently sitting in your bed for a response that would never come.

One word from you and I would Jump off of this Ledge I'm on Baby

You know that you told him not to worry about keeping up with you every day, that it was unnecessary, but you feel a certain amount of soreness in your muscles and in your bones.

The line rings for a while before it turns silent again and your heart burns, but you put it aside and instead decide to climb out of your window to watch the moon. The times that he’d called you, he seemed joyous and jubilant, with a bright smile that outshone the sun and the galaxies of burning stars. You think that’s he happier there, but that’s okay.

Everything is okay.

Though you wish that he faked his gleeful smiles, telling you “no” that the States sucked and the friends he’d made on the way could never compare with this small town. Just so you can, feel pitiful for him, for yourself, and all the stars that miss him on your rooftop. But you know that he’s ashamed.

Tell me "don't" So I can Crawl back in

As long as he came back to you.

One word from you and I would Jump off of this Ledge I'm on Baby

This is the second wedding you’ve been to, in a span of a few months. And it’s the first one that’s taken you out of the little town and out into the world.

Taehyun hadn’t kept your promise.

You blankly stare back at the wedding invitation in your hands, eyes furiously reading it over and over again, because there was no way that was real. Taehyun wasn’t getting married–who were you kidding? Taehyun wasn’t getting married, no not after just six years...that would be crazy. Extremely insane.

So why hasn’t he visited you so far? So why were you crying? You’re not sure, but your heart aches as you drag your eyes to the woman who is his fiancé. She’s pretty, but you’re sure that she could never compare with you, not eight years of love, since fucking fourth grade. Since that Valentine’s Day dance.

Taehyun’s wedding is going to be February thirteenth, just a day before your anniversary where you spend your day in your room crying over missed love.

You don’t know if you want to go anymore or not, or to even forgive him.

So I can Crawl back in

You wish that he hadn’t sent you this, so you could forever live in the shadows of your delusions that he would come back for you. But you would do anything for him. Even if he asked you to relive the heartbreak of your first love, once more.

95 notes · View notes

ivanzplaid · 10 months

Note

I saw those praise headcanons and it reminded me of an idea I’ve been sitting on for awhile.

A male reader who brings up the idea of spanking to Lawrence Gordon, Peter Strahm, Patrick Bateman, and Bo Sinclair.

The readers kinda shy and nervous about it too. I’ve just been sitting on this brain rot for awhile and I wanted to share it.

-📼

LOVE YOU CASSETTE ANON YES OF COURSE. i love when yall share the brainrot with me because when i see these requests i literally jump with joy, share all ur thoughts with me i love this idea sm😭😭😭 these characters are perfect too because we have a nice mix between stern and classy to rough hungry and im literally screaming running around thinking about this THANK YOUUU. also im labeling this group as slashers even though all dont fall under the category, its just easier this way

my progress got deleted halfway thru bo's section so im so sorry if its sloppy i was just fedddd up w tumblr

requests are open, masterlist is up!!

Slashers x M!reader + Introducing Spanking | Headcanons

Warnings: nsfw undercut, dirty talk, man handling, praise & degradation, caring!lawrence & bo (but also some mean!dom! energy.. just how its gotta be), dom!slashers, sub!reader, punishments, we all expected mean!patrick lets be real here

Lawrence Gordon

lawrence loves to hear any ideas you have, he thinks its healthy to share new ideas and experiences with eachother. yet he also gets a slight suspicion that youre holding out on him the next time youre in the bedroom, he knows you well and can memorize your body language, so when he sees you avoiding eye contact and talking in a hushed or awkward manner, he wants to know whats going through your mind

he'll lay down and have your head on his chest while he plays/pats your hair, trying to ease you into saying it, snd is pleasantly surprised with your answer

"Tell me whats wrong darling, speak to me."

"I was thinking.. maybe we could, try something new? We don't have to do this if you don't want to, its fine, but, could we try spanking?"

his eyes meet yours and he sees how reluctant you were to telling him. as his hands find your chin, angling it up to meet his eyes, he smiles and says sure, whatever will give you a better experience is something hes willing to try

he thinks its funny how nervous you were, since hes open about a lot of things. hes a stern and classy dom, utilizing punishments and keeping himself composed a lot, he likes to see how youre such a mess when hes commanding over you, how his slight touch and gaze make you whimper

loves to see your vulnerability, he wants to see you exposed and at his will, he wants you to be vocal for him and show him how much you love it, it fuels his ego and reassures that he isnt doing anything wrong (because in the end hes still lawrence, and he cares about you more than his own life)

will mock you as he does it, it is a punishment after all. loves to see how obedient or defiant you are during and after, he likes to make you seem pathetic for your reactions

"What? Can't take it? Oh but handsome we just started.."

will have you count how many times he does it, he wants to hear your voice sputter and moan, it will get him hard and he will use it against you ( using it as an excuse to fuck you hard, saying that "he couldnt resist your lewd and obscene moans" )

loves to force you to look at him as he does it, he wants to see that pretty face of yours, whether you cry, whine, or try to hide your face

does that thing where every time you squirm or move on him, he chuckles darkly saying "Oh Baby, you're making it so hard for me to not hold you down right now.. and just show you some fucking manners.."

he is seconds away from making you cockwarm him as he laughs at your attempts to get off. he will overstimulate you by slowly stroking your dick and then going "ah-ah-ah.. you have to stay still, its still a punishment"

he loves to stroke or pat your hair as he spanks you, he loves to feel you flinch as he inflicts pain. after he does it, he'll rub your tender spots and say how well you took them, and how pretty you sounded as you did (or, if you were bratty, how depraved and pathetic of a sight you were)

he'll take such good care of you, giving you proper aftercare and everything, but for now, hes got you ass up, displayed nice and neat for him

Patrick Bateman

hes more than excited you are, as he is more into impact play/things along that line. he just loves to see how your body contorts to his advances and how his fingers just gently gliding across your ass make you whine, both from how tender it is and because his touch is so gentle you need it

he also thinks its hilarious that you were nervous about asking, because hes a pretty dominant/open man, hes into some kinky shit, and hes not afraid to talk about it.

he will mock you about being nervous, then taunt you with that fact, making the experience all the more exciting/intense, just as he'd prefer. he will rub your face softly and say how delicate and precious you look, and say that this for the better, then begin spanking you

"Darling-Darling.. don't cry now. I'm not even close to being finished."

his voice is always smooth and calm, which coupled with his confident exterior, is terrible for you. he will stroke you and play with your ass while he spanks you. putting a cockring around your dick if he knows youre getting too close to cumming when he spanks and teases you, he needs you to be ready for him after, when he has you gripping at the bedsheets while he fucks and degrades you

is honestly a slight menace when it comes to things like this, he'll talk you through the spanking snd make sure that youre whiny and rubbing up against him for more, he gets off by seeing the physical effects of his work, making him hard asl

"Good Boy.. thats right, take what I give you.."

likes for you to make eye contact, and will grip your chin just to face him so he can see your face give out a pathetic moan (may even take a photo.. just for safe keeping)

and he will be mean about that, asking if his personal slut couldnt take what he asked. in a mocking tone he'll say if he should go lighter next time, or if you like it hard since you moaned his name the entire time

will have you suck his dick after, because he thinks you enjoyed it too much, and if he did all that for you, he should get something in return. but dont worry, he'll guide you and say how your mouth was meant for his cock and his cock only, and how well you take him, especially after how sore you are

he notices you staying off/putting less pressure on your ass as you suck him off, and it makes him proud. the whole kink makes him proud, because hes happy to see his hand prints on you, knowing that his gorgeous boyfriend took it, and thanked him after for it, thats his art

i wouldnt be shocked if he had some handcuffs or toys.. he experiments and he pulls hoes so. but because of this, he may incorporate some bondage in and handcuff your wrists/ankles to the bedposts, having your stomach on the bed, and then deliver the spanking there.. he likes to see the cuffs rattle and your body shake

would obviously have you count as he spanks you, not because hes tryna be classy like lawrence, but because he knows you cant, and likes to hear your voice die out the moment he starts, and he will go on and on, having you count to the 10's, 20's, and if he thinks youve deserved it, 30's

"C'mon sweetheart.. don't stop counting. What number am I on?"

aftercare is exquisite, taking absth and applying some nice little lotion, just so he can abuse you the same the day after

Bo Sinclair

hes also a bit of a rough yet concerned man. he wants to try this out, because it lets out his sadistic side a bit more, but if he could get lost in the pleasure he gets from it, or, if he hears genuine pain from you, he gets anxious. he'd never want to actually hurt you, but if you give him the go ahead, he indulges in it. something about seeing you like prey under him makes him go nuts

is like an animal when he loses control, he will make you cry, he eants to see you beg for him to keep going (or for him to stop), he wants to see how much he can break you before your all fucked out beneath him

he lowkey likes having control and dominance over another guy, it really boosts his ego, definitely some uncovered trauma but either way, seeing you whimper from what he gives you gives him a massive hard on

will ask you teasing snd taunting questions just to get you to cry out and squirm. sayin something like "Are you likin' it doll? Or should I just stop and leave ya all needin' for me.."

please moan his name, because he will not only spank you harder, and rub where the tender spots are, but after he will lay down, have you sit on his dick and shove himself inside of you as hard as he can. hes gonna show you a reward you get for sayin his name all pretty like that

he loves to put you into doggy style and spank you as he fucks you, its his favorite thing for easy access

he also loves to objectify you, using nicknames like "pet, toy, doll, etc."

"Ah ah.. look at me, keep your eyes on me sweets. It's not that hard." he says this as he literally pounds the shit out of your ass, gripping your chin so that you cant look away

speaking of this, he loves to force you to look at him. he cannot get enough of it. he wants to see your every move, every way you contort, and every sound you make, because he needs your reactions

he wants you to touch snd to grab him while he spanks you. him imagining you gripping his thighs or having you sucking him off will result in a spank of encouragement, his little treat. he loves it, he wants to feel you on him

also loves overstimulation while spanking you.. find his hands wandering and stroking your dick, or massaging your ass while he spanks you to increase your pleasure

out of the bedroom he continues this behavior. if youre in his shop helping him, he'll tap your ass before squeezing it, loving how shocked you get at his roughness in public

"Theres my little pet.. takin' this spanking all too well.. almost like you want me to make your ass more tender than it is!"

loves to ask you rhetorical questions to tease and taunt you. he wants to see you get all worked up over his nothing, his voice lingering in your ears to belittle you. he'd ask "oh sweets.. was that too hard? would you want me to be nicer? cause that pathetic moan you let out tells me a different story.."

is all for having you be loud and proud with your cries, god knows he gets loud, whether its dirt talk, grunting, or even a deeper growl, he does it, so he wants to hesr all those pretty sounds you have for him

he really loves to have you beg for him, something about having you so needy that you cannot restrain yourself makes him lose it. he wants you to cry, whine, beg, or stutter his name and beg for whatever he'll give you. because after that, hes fucking you so hard jnto the bedsheets, having you grip onto them with no signs of stopping. and trust that every plead is another spank, with him going "oh.. my dirt little toy loves it when I use their body snd treat them like the pathetic slut they are?"

is all for rubbing your tender spots and seeing your body jump from the feel of his calloused fingers running over you. he sometimes intentionally slaps the same soot because he needs to hear that lewd moan come from your mouth that makes him so hard

Peter Strahm

now he is a very stressed pent up man, he doesnt have a lot of outlets, so when his boyfriend introduces the idea, he looks into it for a bit before acting on it, hes not a really kinky guy

however, once he figures everything out, hes all for it. he finds a way to express his frustration sexually, seeing you under him as he fucks into you, moaning for his touch, it is therapeutic for him

he loves how his rings add a bit of a sting when they spank you, he loves how the specific marks on them show up and how you whimper, and honestly he loves to hold you down when he does it

the control he finally feels is a much different type of control than what he has at work. this control is stress free, he doesnt feel like he has a weight on his shoulders from conditions or cases he isnt meeting. he feels totally, and indescribably in power, and it turns him on so much more

hes never really experimented with kinks before, so expect him to find a new type of bliss with this. hes going to be as into this as you are, stroking your cheek with his pointer finger as he pleases both you and him

is more into praise than degradation, loves to say how pretty and sweet his boyfriend is. "My good little boy is taking it so well.. you cant get enough of me."

really loves to have you facing towards a mirror while he does it, he wants to see your face and he wants you to see how you look. having his dick slide in and out of you, your moaning face unnable to form any sentences, seeing his hand come up, only to roughly come down on your ass while he says how perfect you look

wants the verbal affirmation of how good it feels, he gets off on how he knows that hes doing good, that you cant help but tell him how good it feels

"There he is.. thats my boy. Thats right, take it, youre doing so well."

wants to have his hands all over you when he fucks and spanks you. on your thighs, on your shoulders, on your hips, or even spreading your ass to get the perfect view for his work

this section is so short im so sorry but it literally got deleted after i SAVED it so i gave up a little😭

thinks the way that you squirm when he holds your hips down/chokes you is hot, he loves to feel you moving and struggling for more against him

#lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #saw #sawposting #peter strahm #peter strahm x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax #american psycho #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x reader #slashers x reader #reader x slasher #slasher x reader

159 notes · View notes

obxone · 6 months

Text

Vigilante Shit (Chapter Eleven)

Edited-ish. ~3k words

Tag list: @fishingirl12 @gillybear17 @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gills-lounge @emmafitzzz @redfieldfx @baby19sthings

Masterpage

A night of pretty dresses, full of dancing in the arms of your boyfriend, and enjoying time with your friends. That is how your night started. So much laughter, several drinks snuck behind the adults' backs, and sweet kisses made your head spin. Every fiber you radiated happiness for those moments of bliss. And then destruction had found its way into your evening and ruined your night.

“Where is she?!” JJ’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you leave the nest of comfort amongst the lounge chairs you have with Reese, Natalie, and Ben.

“JJ!” You push through the serving trolleys, half broken down tables, and groups of lingering Island Club staff to see your brother and his friends rushing through the Island Club in a panic to find. “It wasn’t me,” you whisper as they turn to converge on you. The press of five warm bodies against you has fresh tears gathering in your eyes. You hug them back. A momentary rush of relief floods through you. “I’m okay. It wasn’t me.”

“What the hell happened?” Kiara asks, squeezing JJ’s arm as he clings to you even though everyone else has released you. “We saw the wreck.”

You tighten your arms around JJ, realizing he has thought the worst. JJ thought he had lost you. Once he backs off, you see the tears in his eyes, and your hands tighten around the skirt of your dress. The delicate lace is torn and bloody in places all over the skirt and bodice. The right strap is torn from the front of the dress and hangs down your back now. A ruined beautiful dress that you had borrowed and would now need to pay for. Tears blur your vision as you cry harder all over again despite the throb of your headache.

“He wouldn’t let me in the car and… and I… oh JJ!” You sink into his arms and let your little brother hold you up as you sob. “I told him not to. I told him not to get caught up in this bullshit.” You shake your head, clinging to the shreds of your senses. “He didn’t listen. And he got in a fight, and then Topper pushed him into racing a-and...”

“Where is Topper now?”

You shake your head at Sarah’s question before glancing at Ben, who is nursing his bloody knuckles, as he mumbles something under his breath that no one quite catches.

“Probably getting drunk or high with your brother,” Reese mutters, coming closer to your group. “I’m going to check in and see if there is any news, okay?” He looks at you before glancing at Natalie, who is sitting curled up in a lounge chair with his jacket on her shoulders. “Nat’s worried about you. We all are.”

You shake your head, guilt filling you. “We should worry about Mav, not me.”

“Go sit with her,” Kiara encourages, squeezing your arm. “Let’s all go sit together.”

No one says it, but you are pale and trembling. They are worried you will pass out at any given second if you stay on your feet much longer.

She leads the way as you all make your way back to the seating section. You sit beside Natalie, dropping your hand into hers and squeezing. You lean into her side and exhale a harsh breath.

“My parents are checking in,” Kiara mutters before going to the edge of the room.

The staff continues to clean up the tables around you. Feeling eyes on you, you look up and spy JJ watching you. Worry is written plainly across his face while he studies you. You attempt a sad smile, but fresh tears spring up again, so you tear your gaze away.

“What happened to your hand?” John B asks Ben while pulling ice out of a nearby ice bucket that had probably housed champagne a few hours ago. You all watch him put it in a linen napkin before offering it to Ben.

“Barry.”

“Barry?” JJ whisps around to look at you in alarm.

You exhale, slumping back into the chair. “He showed up. How do you think my dress is ruined?”

“What the fuck?”

You frown at your brother before looking at your hands. “Yep.”

“Topper and Barry in one night?” Pope whispers, and you frown, reaching up to wipe a tear.

"It's fine. Ben and Mav stopped him."

You shudder as you think about Barry's body against yours. His hands were greedy and harsh as he tore at your skirt. Squeezing your eyes shut, you try not to relive the moment again.

The sound of hurried footsteps has you all turning, and you hope Reese has a useful update on Mav. His parents were not forthcoming with you, blaming you for tonight's accident. And you know you are not welcome at the hospital. Not after the way his parents looked at you at the scene of the crash. You shudder again. This time the image of Mav’s mangled car flashing through your mind. The screams, your screams, echo in your mind as Natalie held you while Reese and Ben pulled him from the burning car. The faint image of Topper fleeing in the black smoke surfaces.

“Rafe! What are you doing here?” Sarah is off the lounge chair and crossing the room to her brother as you refocus on reality.

Your gaze finds him, and he seems to visibly relax until his focus shifts to your torn gown and shaking hands. Sarah pushes at his chest, trying to remove him from the main room, but he fights back and slips past her with ease.

“No!” JJ is the next line of defense with Pope right behind him.

“Guys,” you whisper as Natalie’s hand tightens on yours, and Ben leans over to pull her attention to him. She is fragile, much more fragile than you, and tonight has already taken such a toll on her. “Guys.” You try again, but no one is paying attention to you as the pogues try to force Rafe to leave. “JJ!”

He turns to you with wide eyes.

“Stop it, please.” You push yourself out of the chair and between the pogues and Rafe. “He’s not going to hurt me. Not right now.”

“If you do,” JJ begins to threaten him, but you level him with a look, and he fades out.

After they back off, you turn to Rafe. “Top isn’t here. None of your friends are.”

“I didn’t come for him,” he states, shrugging out of his suit jacket and arranging it around your shoulders. You frown, looking down at the powder blue jacket. “What happened, Angel? Talk to me.”

“Barry and Topper both showed their true colors.” You murmur, coldness spreading through you. “It’s really bad, Rafe. Mav didn’t look good.”

Rafe frowns, his fingers ghosting across your cheek and down to your neck to examine the bruising handprint that is already forming there. “Barry?”

You nod once before closing your eyes.

“Did he cause Mav’s accident?”

“That was all Topper.”

"Were you in the car? Do you need to see a doctor?"

"No," you murmur, trying hard not to lean into him and let him comfort you like he always has. "No, Mav would not let me in the car. I tried."

Rafe frowns, brushing his thumb across your chin. “Damn it, Angel.”

“I know,” you mumble. It had been a stupid thing to try and do. Both of you glance at the others, aware it is not just you two alone. “Reese went to get us an update.”

Rafe’s lips press into a thin line, but he is looking at his sister instead of you. Sarah frowns at him before shaking her head and looking away. She never could understand how you got through to him.

“Why did you come here?” You whisper, pulling his attention back to you. "If not for Topper."

“For you.”

“Rafe…”

“Just let me be here for you, Angel. Barry could come back.”

“He would be stupid to try it.”

“He’s done plenty of stupid things.”

You wince, agreeing with Rafe before glancing as the chairs scrap across the floor.

“You have some nerve!” Kiara and Natalie both say, springing out of their chairs. Rafe turns, allowing you to get a clear view of Topper as he walks down the hallway. A fuming Reese is right behind him. Topper looks like the picture of health, untouched and still in his Midsummer's suit.

“I come in peace. I only want to talk.”

Rafe’s hand grips your hip as he positions himself better between Topper and you. You do not miss it and squeeze his forearm in appreciation while JJ and John B push themselves to be in front of you and by association Rafe. JJ glances at Rafe’s hand on you but says nothing since Topper is the current threat.

“What could you possibly have to say?” You glare at the blond kook. “You’ve done enough!”

No longer do you tremble, instead, your back straightens, and your shoulders push back as you try to keep from tearing Topper limb from limb. Hostile feelings brewing inside of you.

Topper lifts his hands before glancing as Reese shoulders past him. He stumbles from the harsh impact of Reese's shoulder against his but quickly rights himself while Reese takes his place beside Natalie and Ben.

“I want to talk about what happened. Make it right.” Topper offers, his voice softening as he turns his attention back to you. “I need to speak to you, y/n. Alone. Try and explain.”

“The fuck you are!” JJ yells, fury erupting from him.

“Jay…” You murmur and try to reach for your brother, but Rafe bars you with a shake of his head.

“No one wants you here,” Sarah states, arms crossing over her chest, scowling at her ex-boyfriend. She stands firm beside you. “You need to go.”

“I need to talk to y/n.”

“You will never speak to her,” JJ spits, and John B. grabs his shoulder as JJ attempts to lunge after Topper.

“Mav is in the hospital because of you.” Natalie's shaking voice breaks the haze of rage and hateful glares.

“I didn’t make him race.”

“No, but you baited him,” you cut in. “Anything you have to say to me, you can say to everyone else.”

“I can’t,” Topper says, trying his best to look innocent. “Please, y/n, I need to talk to you.”

You sigh, and he grins while everyone else glares at him. “Five minutes. You get five minutes.”

Rafe’s hand tightens, but you disregard him and gently step away from his touch.

“If I’m not back in five minutes, come find me,” you whisper, leaning into him to peck his cheek. You start to remove his jacket, but he stops you, tugging it back around you firmly.

“Keep it.”

You miss the look Topper throws at your brother and friends as you push out the door and down onto the lawn. You can hear him behind you, so you do not hesitate as you storm down the boardwalk and out onto the beach.

“Why do you need to speak to me alone?” You move away from him before turning to stare at him. You trust Topper as far as you can throw him. “You have one hell of a nerve to show up here and ask to talk to me.”

Topper smirks at you. The innocent boy façade drops in a flash as he relishes in your stormy attitude. “It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t make him race me.”

“Are you an idiot, Topper?” You glare at him. “It is your fault. You are such an asshole!”

“Ladies shouldn’t curse, you know.” He tries to toy with you.

“Get fucked!”

Topper blinks in surprise, before shaking his head with a laugh. “Fucking pogues.”

“Just say you hate us,” You glare at him. “Just say you hate anyone who isn’t exactly like you.”

He smirks, looking at his loafers. “You got me.”

“Yeah?” You feel the rage building inside of you over his classist bullshit. “Or is it because you really just envy us?”

He scoffs, cocking an eyebrow at you.

You smirk, stuffing your hands into Rafe’s jacket pockets. “Because we have control over our lives. We don’t have mommy and daddy breathing down our necks.”

Topper closes the distance between you, and you stumble back, nearly toppling back into a dune. “You think your so fucking smart, don’t you y/n?” His breath is hot and smells like alcohol as he presses down on you. “But you don’t have control, do you?” He continues to crowd you. His hand moves to swipe your hair back behind your ear. You shudder at the feel of his touch on you. “Not with our little secret, huh? I have the control because I have the video.”

Your blood turns to ice instantly because you know exactly what he is referencing.

His sick laughter over enjoying your hesitation at his threat has the words unsticking from your throat as the icy wrath explodes inside you. “You have it?!”

“I’ve always had it, Angel.”

A mixture of anger and confusion washes through you. “Why you? Why would Rafe give it to you?”

Topper grins, flashing those perfect white teeth.

Realization dawns, and your mouth drops open before you whisper your realization. “It was always you.”

Topper’s grin fades as he sees the puzzle pieces fall into place for you. But you do not give him a chance as you shove his chest harshly. He stumbles back a few steps from your surprising push of energy. You launch after him. Rafe’s suit jacket crumples against the sand as it falls off your shoulders.

“It was you!” You glare at him and begin to stalk forward. He backs up, hands raising in innocence. “You bastard!” You spit at him. “You lying bastard!”

“Hey now,” Topper smirks, enjoying you get so worked up. “I never said it wasn’t.”

“Yes, you fucking did!” You scream and try to hit him, but he dodges your strike. “Rafe never videotaped us! You did, you are a fucking pervert!” You shove at his chest again, and he falls back against the boardwalk leading back to the Island Club. His eyes widen in surprise and fear. “You sick and dirty bastard!” You push your hands against your stomach to stop the violent roll of sickness washing over you. “So help you when I tell him,” You whisper with a shake of your head as you take a weak step back, nearly stumbling as everything you went through because of Topper weighs down you. “No one on Kildare will be able to save you. Not even your Mommy.”

You try to push past him to find Rafe so that you can tell him everything. It makes so much sense now why Rafe never thought you were over, and you did. Because Topper had lied, and he had killed your relationship without ever involving Rafe in its death.

Topper is quicker when he grabs your calf and causes you to stumble and crash down against the boardwalk. Your body hits the weathered boards harshly, and the sand bites into your skin. You cough, the air rushing back into your lungs.

“You aren’t good enough for him!” He yells, dragging you back down to him even as you try to crawl away. You struggle, shoving at him as he climbs over you, but his fingers find their way around your throat. He tightens his grip. “You never will be! And he can’t see that, but I can!”

“Topper,” you gasp, pushing at his chest but failing to get him off. “Top!”

“He was doing fine until you came back! You just had to come back!” Topper squeezes harder, and your lungs and chest scream in pain. "I thought Mav would be enough to drive Rafe away, but he isn't. We both know Rafe gets what he wants. And he wants you, even now."

The edges around your vision darkening. Your nails bite at Topper's forearm, breaking skin as you claw at him, but he only presses harder against your throat. The back of your legs and heels sting as you kick against the boardwalk.

“You don’t deserve to be a part of our world!” He glares down at you, and you can see years of hatred in his eyes.

You try to drive your knee up between his legs but fail as you gasp and claw at his forearm. “Topper!”

Then his weight is gone, and you gasp, rolling to your side. Your forehead presses to the boardwalk as you try to fill your lungs with air and hold back the bile rising in your throat. Moments later, a hand grips your shoulder, and you yelp, twisting away.

“It’s me. Hey! It’s me!” Rafe’s face is a mask of worry and anger. His hand trembles as he cups your face. His forehead falls against yours. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” you sob and grip his shoulders. Your breath hitches in your throat as he pulls you closer to him. Your body pressed against his chest. His lips ghost across your temple. Twice tonight, you have been manhandled and nearly killed because of jealousy and men wanting to have their way no matter who they hurt. You shiver, pushing yourself against Rafe's warmth while Topper lies motionless on the ground a few inches away.

“What the hell?!” Sarah yells when the pogues and kooks all rush down the boardwalk. Eyes wide in shock and confusion painting their faces.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, burying your face in Rafe’s chest. “All this time… It was Topper.”

(Chapter Twelve)

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #outer banks rafe cameron #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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veeluvss · 5 months

Text

✮⋆˙ first time family

day 2 of my 12 days of christmas !!

jj and the boys x reader !!

1443 words

it’s your first christmas with jj and her boys after her divorce.

“Mummy wake up !!” Michael cheered, jumping onto your bed and shaking JJ awake. Well, trying to. JJ could sleep through a storm, particularly after a late night at work. You, however, were woken up by the slightest creak.

“Hey kid,” you laughed, rolling over.

“Mummy won’t wake up,” he groaned. You smiled and grabbed him gently. You pulled him into your arms, accepting the cuddles he didn’t fight for once.

“Mummy’s tired. Cuddle with me for a while, we can watch her sleep.”

“That’s weird,” he laughed but stayed lying there, in your arms. You had rare cuddles with Michael but even rarer cuddles with Henry. Michael was only seven and a lot more open to newer people but Henry was more closed off. He’d been processing his parents divorce as well as a new parent and school - it was a lot and you had to be patient. You loved the boys as if they were your own but to them, you were still new. With JJ’s work schedule and the boys being at school or their dads, you didn’t see them much but now you’d moved in and you saw them regularly. JJ had been leaving them with you on your own more too which you appreciated - you wanted to get to know them - but it was even more nerve-wracking.

Having come into a family dynamic which had already been established, and even recently cracked - was really difficult and you’d been dragging yourself to make sure you did what was best for the boys. Nights were spent crying to yourself about not being good enough. Yet JJ made it better. The way she looked at you with so much love, the way she’d curl into you and thank you every day for being the best you could be. For loving her.

Around twenty minutes later, you noticed Michael had fallen back asleep in your arms and you smiled, feeling accomplished. Just as you went to close your eyes, you saw JJ peak at you through hers. You smiled and hid your head in the back of Michael’s blonde hair.

“You got him back to sleep,” she whispered.

“I was just lying here holding him.”

“He likes it.You’re doing so amazing,” she leaned over and kissed your cheek before sneaking out of the bed, being careful not to disturb her sleeping son in your arms. You smiled at the simple praise, maybe you weren’t doing so bad.

“You don’t make eggs the same as dad,” Michael said as he dug into his breakfast. You paused as your heart sank. You weren’t sure what to reply.

“Is that a good thing?” JJ asked, resting a gentle hand on your back, offering her support.

“Not good, not bad,” Michael shrugged, taking a mouthful of eggs.

“They’re still good, just not the same,” Henry backed up his brother.

“Okay well that’s good,” you nodded, almost trying to convince yourself it was okay.

“We’re going christmas shopping today boys,” JJ said, taking her own seat at the table. You went and sat in your own.

“Who for?”

“For each other and other family. You can buy your dad gifts.”

“Do we have to buy gifts for Y/N?” Michael asked and you sniggered.

“No, I don’t expect any gifts. Save your money for your mum and dad.”

Henry nodded, agreeing.

The four of you entered the department store and JJ turned to you all.

“I’m going to find presents for the team, you’re welcome to come with me or y/n Michael. Henry you can go around the store alone but you can’t leave it!” JJ said, proud of her little action plan.

“I’m going to get presents for your mum,” you smiled and Henry looked up at you, you could see he wanted to join.

“I want something for Dad!” Michael announced, grabbing JJ’s hand.

“Cool, we’ll go this way. Meet back here in half an hour!”

You and Henry watched JJ and Michael walk away from you, hand in hand and you turned to her eldest.

“You coming with me to get her present?” He nodded and smiled a little so you headed off towards the jewelry section.

“What are you getting her?” He asked, keeping up beside you.

“She wanted this jewelry set, I just need to check they have it in stock.”

He nodded and then cleared his throat, “do you think you can help me pick something for her?”

You didn’t want to act all giddy and happy that he’d asked you for help so you remained calm, turning to him with a little nod.

“What are you thinking of getting her?”

“I’m not sure, that’s my problem. It’s her first christmas without dad buying her a massive, extravagant gift and I know she has you and things but as the man in her life now, I want to treat her like the Queen she is-” Henry explained and you smiled wide.

“She deserves that, hundred percent,” you agreed. “And coming from you is even better.”

“I just don’t know what will do it.” You got to the store and he looked longingly in the window.

“I know you want her to have this big, extravagant present like Will used to get her but she doesn’t expect that. She just wants you to be happy, Henry. It’s been a tough year.”

“I know, I am happy. She’s happy and you’re really good for her - I just want to show her that I love her too.”

“She knows you love her.”

“I want to get her something anyway.”

“I get that. Come on, let’s go look inside.”

The jewelry shop was bright and the gleaming pieces reflected off the pristine glass around the store.

“There’s so much to chose from,” he said.

“Well you can cut it in half by choosing gold or silver and your mum’s silver girl.”

“How do you know that?”

“She just is, trust me.”

“Okay so I want silver.” You saw the set she’d had her heart set on as he said it and you melted. You could picture in it now, with the bracelet and the necklace and the earrings. You knew she’d look breathtaking. Even more breathtaking than she already is.

“Oh wow-” Henry said, coming to your side. “You’re getting her that? It’s perfect.” You thought for a moment as you processed his question. The way his body turned to it and his eyes lit up. His hand instinctively went to his wallet and you smiled, stepping closer to him. You put a hand on his shoulder and leaned in.

“You should get it for her.”

“What?” He looked at you, a happy gleam in his eye.

“Yeah. You said yourself it’s perfect. She’s been wanting it. She’ll love it even more from you.”

“Are you sure? What are you going to get her?”

“Oh I can worry about that. You get it her. Can you afford it or do you need me to put towards?”

“I can afford it,” he smiled. You nodded and watched as he called someone over to enquire.

Walking out the shop, you were chuffed. Henry walked prouder next to you, having found her the perfect present and you were so happy with yourself because you had helped him.

“Hey y/n,” he said as you waited by the entrance for JJ and Michael. “Thank you for helping me.”

You looked at him and he had genuine love in his eyes.

“You’re welcome, Henry. I can always help you with anything. Just ask.”

Michael ran up to you both and JJ’s hand slid in yours.

“Hey love,” you smiled turning to her. She leaned in for a small kiss and the boys groaned making you laugh and kiss JJ more. You felt at peace with them, finally at peace.

Christmas day came around quicker than any of you expected. The boys sat on the floor and you and JJ sat on the sofa’s.

“Mum this is for you,” Henry said, handing her a neatly wrapped box.

“For me? Henry you didn’t have to.”

“I did. Open it.” He moved to sit beside her on the sofa and you smiled at him, encouragingly. JJ took the paper off and gasped at the brand before opening the box. Her face lit up as she noticed the set she’d wanted for so long.

“Henry.” She said, her eyes filling with tears, “This is too much.”

“I can’t take it back,” he said and smiled shyly.

“Thank you my boy. I love you,” she said and opened her arms for a hug. Henry hugged her back and you watched on, proud.

“I love you mum.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds evolution #jennifer jareau #jennifer jareau head canons #jennifer jareau imagine #jennifer jareau x reader #jj x reader #henry lamontagne #jj criminal minds #jennifer jareau au #jennifer jareau!mom #crimimas #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #12 days of christmas

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nattinatalia · 1 year

Text

Urban Wyatt x Reader : PICNIC DATES

Today was just not your day, maybe you were overreacting but that’s how you felt.

It was Mother’s Day, and up until now you still haven’t had any sort of text or calls from Urban or your daughter.

It was his weekend to have Cassie and unfortunately he had to travel with Jack for the week, so his only option was to take Cassandra with him. Which you didn’t mind at all, he’s a great father. But you had forgotten it was Mother’s Day week and you were missing your daughter.

You were in bed all day, but you decided to stop with the self pity and actually do something, even if it’s on your own or even if it means finishing a bottle of wine.

You were finishing up setting up a charcuterie board when you heard muffled voices come from the living room.

You quickly grab a baseball bat you had in the walk in pantry and make your way to the living room.

“I’m calling the co-CASSIE?” You gasp out surprised to see her, since she’s supposed to be in New York.

“Hi mommy.” She waves at you.

“What are you doing here?” You look around, not finding a mop of blond curly hair. “Where is your father?”

“Outside.” She points to the slide door, so you try to open it but Cassie blocks your way. “Not time yet.”

You smile down at her and raise your eyebrow, “What are you two up to?”

“N-nothing.” She covers her mouth and shrugs.

“Okay you little liar.”

She gasps, “I’m no liar, it’s a surprise.” She crosses her little arms against her chest.

“Aww, I’m sorry princess, you’re right you aren’t a liar.”

The slide door is being opened and a smiling Urban walks in. “Hi.”

“Hello.” You smile at him shyly. The two of you might be taking time apart from one another, but you can’t lie that your heart skips a beat every time he’s near.

“How’s it going?”

You nod, “Way better now that you two are here.”

“Ugh guys.” Cassie interrupts your little moment. “Can we get to it?.”

“Cassandra Wyatt, watch yourself little lady.” Urban tells her.

“Well I want to see it too, you can smile at each other out there.” She points outside.

“Alright, let’s go.” Urban faces you and extends his hand out for you so you take it.

You three walk outside to the backyard and see the most beautiful setup. “Urban, this is-wow.”

He had a picnic section on one side of the yard, on the blanket laid all of your favorite snacks, drinks and food with some flowers. He also set up the screen projector and had candles spread around on the other side of your yard.

“You like it?”

You shake your head, “I love it.” You go to hug him. “Thank you so much.”

“Mommy, daddy got you flowers and chocolate.” Cassie runs to sit down on the blanket.

“Did you help him baby?”

She nods “I got the blankets and did the drawings. He did the rest.”

“Well I love it all baby, thank you.”

You three sit down and start snacking.

“You okay?” Urban notices that you’ve gone quiet and that you’re crying.

“Yeah.” You hiccuped. “I just thought I was going to be alone today.”

“Hey.” He pulls you to his side. “It’s Mother’s Day, when have I left you alone to celebrate?”

You shake your head “I just thought since we’re taking time to think things through, that you wouldn’t be here.”

“I love you, I’m never going to stop loving you. I had to be here, just like I’ll be here every day and every Mother’s Day that’s to come.” He kisses the top of your head.

“Happy tears mommy?” Cassie says, staring at you both but blowing bubbles.

You nod. “Most definitely princess.”

Cassie goes back to blowing her bubbles, you sit up and face Urban. “I love you, I promise you I’m working on it. I’m working on getting us on the right path.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t think about that right now, let’s just enjoy today. Let’s eat all this junk food, and enjoy our family time.”

“Okay, yeah you’re right.” You wipe your tears, lean in closer to Urban, to the point your foreheads are touching. “Thank you.”

“AWW, KISS KISS KISS.” Cassie chants.

You and Urban both smile at that.

“Well Mr. Wyatt, you heard your daughter.” You whisper.

He pulls back and looks down to your lips, then to your eyes to make sure you were one hundred percent sure. “Y/N?”

“Don’t keep me waiting.” You tell him.

Those words were all he needed to hear, he leaned in, placing his hand on your cheek and kisses you.

It’s a toe curling kiss, you missed his lips against yours, you missed the way your body gets warm whenever his lips would touch you.

“YAYYYYY.” Cassie cheers.

You both pull away and laugh.

“We’re going to make it through, just watch.” He whispers into your ear.

That sounded like a promise and if there’s one thing you love about Urban, is that he always keeps his promises.

• • • • • • •

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

#urban wyatt #urban wyatt x y/n #urban wyatt x yn #urban wyatt x you #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt fic #jack harlow #urban wyatt fanfic

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donutz · 2 months

Text

Kissy Missy x reader fluff alphabet[1/3]

—☆You are a wuggy in this, if you're confused on what that is, it's kind of what the species Huggy and Kissy are

Affection(How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

— Very!!! She is so cute when she's giving affection

— Always hugging, or kissing, one of the two

— A way she shows affection is by just staring at you, since you both are wuggies, you don't verbally communicate as much

— But you two are very good with physical communication, or just being physical in general

— She shows affection in every way, and is incredible at it too! I’d like to think her love language is all of them, but physical affection is her main

— Shows affection everyday

— She loves holding hands! So she’s always holding yours

Best friend(How would they be as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

— It would start with her kind of communicating with you, not verbally

— Like a side eye or something, it was actually ridiculous seeing her like that

— She would attempt with holding your hand, but it would be with pinkies(pinky fingers, even if the wuggies’ paws are conjoined, I'd think they can slightly separate one from another)

— If you didn’t accept them, then it’d get really awkward, she’d say sorry in her own way though

— The more you accept her pinky intertwines, the better your relationship with her gets

— If she got more comfortable with you,(which can take like a week) she would rub her head against you, like a cat

— A very adorable sight to see

Cuddles(Do they cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

— YES. YEP. YEA. YEAH. MHM. ALWAYS AND FOREVER.

— She loves cuddling bro!! If you want to be not so sad at times, and you need some cuddling, she’s right there for ya!

— Cuddling and her are best friends!

— Cuddles at least once a day! It’s final! Unless you don’t like it, then Kissy remembers not to every time she wants to

— She’ll reach out to you, then oops— nevermind

— She usually cuddle with laying on you, not always directly ON you, but on your side or something

— But if you want to sleep cuddle, that’s fine! Just expect to be tangled up in the morning

Domestic(Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

— Doesn’t mind settle down, or not, whatever is fine

— Wouldn’t mind sitting on a couch, or hanging up washed clothes to dry in the ‘sun’

— She doesn’t mind cooking or cleaning, but isn’t too efficient with it, be patient with her, please

— The wait is worth it, so don’t whine about her pace and let her be her

— Minus what I just said, she’s only really good with breakfast

— She loves the sweetness when it comes to cooking/baking cookies, pancakes, french toast, muffins, cupcakes, so yummy!

— With cleaning, it’ll take time, but the area she cleaned will look brand new!

— She’d get kind of irritated if you immediately messed it up

Ending(If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

— Silence between you too, that’s all

— I still don’t like this section

— She’d stop cuddling up to you

Fiance(How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

— Uhm.. It’s okay..?

— Awkward… ^_^;

Gentle(How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

— The definition of gentle

— Despite her large appearance, she’s probably the 2nd nicest toy in the Playtime co production(Dogday is 1st, he also didn’t eat people so that’s one of the reasons he’s first)

— Her hugs have much love in them, and if she squeezes you just a bit too hard, she steps back asking if you’re okay

— Holding hands is wonderful, she somehow never has squeezed your hand too tight

— She’s very good when it comes to emotions, not with verbal words, but with other forms of communication when it comes to comforting

— If her fingers were separated, I’d like to think she’d make an effort for learning sign language, making communicating less hard

— But since she can’t talk to you, she’ll find other ways to comfort your sadness

— Unless you just need a good cry, or somebody to listen to your wails, she’s there for you

— Always.

Hugs(Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

— She doesn’t like hugs as much as Huggy, BUT loves them quite a lot!

— She gives a hug to you daily, especially if you’re sad that whole week

— Two soft bodies hugging each other is a very soft experience, but physically and mentally

— Her gentle hugs can really bring up anybody’s attitude

— Her hugs aren’t loose, but they are very gentle-like

— Some snuggling is included when she’d hugging you

I love you(How fast do they say the L-word?)

— Doesn’t say, but show

— She can draw you pictures, (barely) manage to sign it, show it(through physical affection), she’ll try really hard to say the words, but never can

— She can scream but she can’t talk, why?

— She can try really hard, but when nothing comes out, she tears up

— Immediate comfort is given to her, you’ve barely seen her cry before

— You understand what she's trying to say and give her a kiss on her sausage lips(💀💀)

— Then she looks at as if she's saying, “.. Thanks ^_^”

— She appreciates all love given

Jealousy(How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

— Doesn't really jealous, can get jealous when it comes to Huggy

— Yeah, she’s chill with him but she just gets uneasy when it comes to you being around him

— He’s given you a hug before, and Kissy immediately went up to hug you back while staring at Huggy

— He wasn’t intimidated at all, but he did find it funny to see how much Kissy was in love with you

— So she doesn’t get too jealous, unless it’s with Huggy, then she can get quite envious of you two hanging out

— And when she’s jealous, while you’re with anybody other than Huggy, she’ll just hold your paw and stare at the person or toy

Kisses(What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

— Kissing! What a lovely experience!!

— She kind of kisses her friends(platonically, and not on the lips) when showing affection, especially since physical affection is her go-to

— But her kisses(towards you) feel a lot more special compared to her friend kisses

— They feel more loving, more squishy(because of her lips), and more effort-yy…

— She likes kissing on the forehead or cheek, or both, whatever floats ya boat! She only kisses you on the lips, like ONLY you

— You’re very special to her

— She doesn’t mind wherever or whenever you kiss her, she appreciates all of them at anytime!

— Dry kisses, wet kisses(not like making out, I mean like when your lips are wet with water or something), sloppy kisses(like lazy kisses, some of y’all take things in a REALLY weird way no matter WHAT that person’s talking about) they’re all fine to her!

Little ones(How are they around children?)

— Not having kidsss!

— But they think Kissy’s like their big sister!

— Especially when she praises them for the smallest things, honestly they probably prefer Kissy over Huggy

— I mean me too but like— dang.

— She’s always seen carrying around the children because they love being picked up by her, she’s just so gentle with them!

Morning(How are mornings spent with them?)

— I'm not sure.. It feels like she doesn't sleep, at all

— Whenever she feels like it to be honest

— Anyways, she's wide awake, when you're sleeping she always wakes you up with a pat to the face

— She just silently gives you a gentle pat on the face until you wake up

— She's your loving alarm clock

— If you won't wake up from that then she'll cuddle up to you and fall asleep with you

— Just something else nice to wake up to

Night(How are nights spent with them?)

— She hangs out with you until you fall asleep, since she doesn't really do that herself

— She wouldn't mind reading you stories, cuddling, humming a song(somehow), cradling, whatever can get you to sleep is something she'll do!(other than that weird stuff)

— If you see her sleep, please don't wake her up unless you want to cuddle with her

— She won't be mad, but she needs her beauty rest

— Falling asleep could be a long or short process

— If you two can't sleep, roaming around Playtime co could be a great activity, especially since you two are trying to not get caught

— You both were sneaking around one time and you tripped, but Kissy caught you by your waist

— She checked in with you, making sure you were alright and there were no injuries

— Then she gave you a kiss on your lips, happy you were okay

Open(When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

— She doesn't really reveal things, but she will with drawings

— She's a little artist

— She isn't really good with full on paragraphs, but a few sentences she can handle when writing

— She'll draw when she was human, what happened to her and stuff

— But she will get emotional at that point, so you’ll have to deal with her shedding tears

— Which is nothing you can't handle,(maybe, depends if you can comfort or not) a tip to help her with that stuff is just cuddling

— Physical affection really helps with comforting when it comes to her

— She slowly reveals stuff, not at once, she'll usually answer all the questions you ask

— But if it's too personal or something, she wouldn't want to share that information

Patience(How easily angered are they?)

— Only way she can get angry is if it's somebody threatening you

— Threatening her? Yea whatever, but if it's you she'll get pretty angry

— Now she's the pretty pink sour patch that bares her teeth

— She can get angry with Huggy, I'm not saying they're both enemies, but they can disagree with each other at times

— If it gets to point where she has to get physical, she'll try not to get messy

— At least when you're around, if she's alone then she doesn't care about how much blood gets splattered on the walls, or on her

— If it's in front of you then she'll kind of apologize for her aggressive behavior

Quizzes(How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

— Remembers all, I'm sure she has good memory, human or not

— But you (probably)can't really be able to tell if she remembers everything

— Even with the many children, she can keep large amounts of data in that head of hers

— Even though she wasn't designed to be able to store that much information..

— For some reason, she'll remembers every single color you name that's you're favorite

— She likes colorzz ^_^

Remember(What is their favorite moment in the relationship?)

— When you first got together and accepted all her ways of affection♡

Security(How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

— She growls! Yeah she growls.. (→_→)

— Only really protective when it comes to.. Y’know, Huggy. But also other people! Especially when she can detect aggression in their mood or expression

— She only really growls at Huggy, because she knows if she growls at the humans something bad will happen

— Because APPARENTLYYYY, humans act on anything

— Anyways, she usually protects you by putting her body infront of you

— If it gets physical, she’ll get physical, that’s it

— If you try to protect her, she’ll softly clap her hands and silently go, “Ahhh.. How romantic ♡” She’s lovingly admiring you while ‘saying’ this of course

— If you’re still in one piece(if a physical fight happened), she’ll give you kisses all over and give you the biggest hug

— You’re such a charmer

Try(How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

— Dates don’t really happen between you two— JUST KIDDING, THEY ARE WEEKLY.

— But not like full on dinners, usually it's just watching over the children having fun

— Hopefully, there'll be times where it can be just you two, cuddling against each other with true smiles on the both of your faces

— Anniversaries are very special for Kissy

— She'll never forget them, and even gets excited when she realizes that special day is coming

— She draws you a picture, symbolizing that it's your anniversary

— It's you and her holding hands with a big heart outlined around the two of you(😭😭)

— Then she gives you a big squeeze and kisses all over

— She is REALLY good with gifts! Her memory really helps out with them too

— She'll know what exactly to gift to a 8 year old, a 16 year old and even a 24 year old!(If you noticed, I was counting by 8's!)

— Sometimes her gifts can be too good, and someone ends up crying…

— Everyday tasks, ay, she's trying

— She can be very slow with it, but she's determined to get it done!

— So just wait 1-2 hours and the place will be squeaky clean!

Ugly(What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

— I don't know, maybe her pace when it comes to cleaning?

— That's all

Vanity(How concerned are they with their looks?)

— You can sometimes catch her staring at a mirror

— Just analyzing what she looks like

— Those times you'll see her crying

— Which is a very sad sight to see :(

Whole(Would they feel incomplete without you?)

— Yes.

— She has nobody to cuddle up to or wake up in the morning

— Nobody to kiss and hug and love

— Nobody to look at her drawings

— Nobody to compliment her pretty pink fur

— Nobody :(

Xtra(A random headcanon for them.)

— She probably smells like strawberry lemonade, or strawberry shortcake, something strawberry!!

— She also loves drawing!

Yuck(What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

— Nothing really, oh y'know what?

— Huggy being aggressive towards or around you

— They sometimes have silent arguments

Zzz(What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

— Not really sleeping a lot, but can if you're cuddling up to her

— Keyword:Can

— She won't always fall asleep, even with your comforting warm presence wrapped around her

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gn reader #wuggies #kissy missy #kissy missy x reader #fluff alphabet #kissy missy x reader fluff alphabet #huggy wuggy

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icabrth · 9 months

Text

beautiful things don’t ask for attention

pairings: walter junior x fem!reader

summary:

warnings: ableism? bullying?😣 swearing..

a/n: this was requested. It’s kinda short, but I hope it’s okay lol.

masterlist

The two of you met on your first year of high school. Though you were both freshmen you were on complete opposite side of the spectrum; you were popular and well-liked amongst the crowds, while he was a disabled, stuttering loser with crutches. No one would’ve ever expected you to get together, let alone associate with one another – but you weren’t superficial like you your friends.

You had never seen him outside of school, you would sometimes see him hanging out with his friends by the bleachers or walking around the yard. From time, you would catch some jocks picking on him, and you’d say something. Every time you did, he looked surprised. Like he hadn’t expected you to stand up for him, even on the third time that you did it.

One day, you and Junior were put together for an english assignment. He invited you over to his house to study, and you agreed. You got along great, and at the same time you became acquainted with his buzzard family. There was always something going on with them.

You were working on the project together in his room, discussing different topics you could go over. It was the weekend, so you had spent most of your day at his house. It was getting late now, but you didn’t notice. One thing you realized whilst working with him is that Junior was a lot more talkative with people he felt comfortable around.

“Right? But then he tuh-turns out to be a cop!” He exclaimed, recalling to you that time he and his friends tried to get strangers to buy them liquor.

“What! Are you fucking serious?” You laughed, collapsing in his bed beside his sitting form. “H-how do you recover from that!”. He peered down at you, inspecting your every feature. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why you hung out with him. The simple act of being seen with him in public was social suicide, and you had so much to lose–

“Walter what the fuck are you doing! Jesus Christ!” His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his mother, screaming at his father. He was used to this. In fact, so used to it that he was about to go straight back to his thoughts, but this was fairly new to you. “Shit, you think we should check on them or something?” You asked, sitting up straight with an anxious expression. Even with your eyebrows furrowed you still looked so beautiful, flawless.

“No, no it’s okay– they do this all the time,” he attempted a chuckle. Part of him wanted to laugh, part of him wanted to cry. It came out as kind of a mixture. You put your hand on his thigh, but didn’t say anything. You figured this was humiliating enough as it was.

But that was a few ago – right now you had joined him and his family find him a new pair of jeans. Junior originally didn’t want you to come; he was embarrassed to be going with his family in the first place, but you insisted. He agreed but not before warning you about their overprotective nature.

“It’s alright, Junior. I get it. My parents are protective too!” You assured him, but he sighed. “No, uh.. they’re just a little much because of… y-you know-“ he tried to explain, motioning to his body. You looked at him as he avoided eye contact. “Oh..” you said, not knowing exactly what to say.

You had taken notice to his disability, but you didn’t stop there. You also noticed the way his smile was slightly crooked, his generosity towards you, his unmatched humor and so many other things. It upset you to think about how something so external could define his entire being, and there was nothing to do about it.

You were looking at different pairs in another section, when you suddenly heard commotion. “Yo, ding-ding-ding-dingus!” Some jocks from school laughed cruelly from across the store. His parents were about to say something, but Junior stopped them shamefully. You had never felt so infuriated with another person in your entire life. You stormed up to the main guy who immediately noticed your presence. “Oh, look! It’s the freak’s little girlfriend–!”

SMACK!

Your hand collided with his cheek, so hard that he stumbled over a bit. The stinging in your hand was bearable. Whilst he was still comprehending what had just happened, your foot went straight for his balls, finally knocking him to the ground.

The people around you let out gasps, some attempting to film the incident. You still weren’t entirely contempt with the damage, but before you could do any more the guy scrambled off the ground and made a fun for it. “Ayo, this chick is fucking crazy!” He yelled, voice cracking as he ran out of the store.

You turned around to meet the judging gazes of the rest of the store. To your surprise, skyler and walter looked overjoyed, proud. It was almost a little scary, they didn’t seem at all shaken up at your scene. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “But he deserved it.”

His parents left to look for some other clothing, and you walked up to Junior. You were sort of scared to see his face after what you’d done. Would he be mad, scared of you, disappointed? “Hey,” you said.

He didn’t reply at first, observing the material on the jeans. “Why did you do that?” He asked. It was quiet, genuine and you couldn’t understand why he would ask that. “What do you mean? They were being assholes.” You stated.

“Yeah, wuh-well.. they’re r-right, you know? I am a freak.” He said. “I cub-can’t even suh-say a full sen-sentence!” It looked like he was going to cry and you couldn’t bare the sight. You put both your hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eye with a serious expression. “Junior, l need you to listen to me very carefully right now. You are not a freak.” You said it so sternly, almost like a mother scolding her child.

“I’ve seen the way you shy away from attention, the way you try to hide yourself – it just makes people notice you more!” You sighed, unsure of how to word what you were about to say.

“Beautiful things don’t ask for attention, Junior.”

#breaking bad #x reader #breaking bad x reader #fem!reader #gus fring #gus fring x reader #gus x reader #gustavo fring #gustavo fring x reader #jesse pinkman

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qqueenofhades · 2 years

Note

i'm going feral about queer icon hob gadling thank you very much. I JUST CAN'T WITH HIM. i cry because in the comic in the 1989 panel there's a person at the inn talking about how "of course AIDS isn't a punishment from god." hob has to sit there and hear that and just. JUST. hob being visible! hob being vulnerable in his love! hob surviving all his friends. hob buying the fucking pub with the power of his queer money!!! committing the crime of graffiti to SPRAYPAINT A SIGN FOR HIS LOVE TO FIND

It is... probably because I am a queer historian and that is why I imprinted on Hob in the first place, but uh, yes, I have many feelings about this too, and the subtle way in which queer places and spaces work both in the show and in the Dreamling story specifically. Obviously there are many queer characters in Sandman (and we love it for that), but the White Horse, and then the New Inn, is one of the few physical locations I can think of that is a literal embodiment of queer devotion. Hob buys the old pub and builds the new one so Morpheus, if he does ever come back, can find him! He appropriated the spot where they met the first time, where their relationship was built over centuries, and he both saves the old one and builds a NEW one (new step in their relationship etc etc). And physically paints giant signs because his immortal boyfriend is very stupid! He makes it visible and explicit, he builds his devotion into every fiber of that pub, he does it especially so Dream can still come back and find him if he chooses, he waits patiently, and like... the New Inn is absolutely brimming with queer adoration, and ack.

Also, there was that tantalizing tidbit about the real, historical White Horse pub that the Sandman version was based on, being best known for being run by two women in the 18th century who called themselves "Mr. and Mrs. How." Granted, I found that in the IMDB trivia section and if I was writing an actual paper on it, I'd have to do a heck of a lot more research. However, happily, I am NOT writing a paper, and I say it's real because it feels right. In that case, the White Horse itself is embodied as a queer establishment, a place previously run by married lesbians in Hella Gay 18th-century London, and adds another layer to that being the place where Hob and Dream meet every century to conduct their careful, tentative, tender, unspoken romance.

But then! Tragedy! The pub has been bought and will be shut down, and with it, the physical and literal heart of Hob’s relationship with his "stranger!" As I wrote in my meta about the 1989 scene, everything is so careful, so subtextual, so unspoken, whether it is Hob saying he has been stood up and the bartender deliberately not assuming it was by a woman and offering oblique reassurance that Hob is safe here, as a queer man in violently homophobic 1989. So of course Hob can't stand to think of it going away, and has to save it both for himself and as a queer-friendly establishment! So he takes his queer money, as you say, and does something about it! Maybe bad people get to do whatever in this country with that money too, but so does Hob, and he can claw back a little of the place that has always most belonged to him (and him with Dream).

Hence the New Inn, where Hob absolutely hung Pride flags in the '90s long before it was cool or popularly accepted to do so, was able to use his status both as owner of the establishment and Queer Who Can Kick Your Ass to deal with anyone who had a problem with it, and otherwise keep it ready for the day when his love might get to show up again. It's beautiful! It's visible! It's symbolic! And then when Dream does walk in and make their relationship "visible," i.e. apologising and calling Hob his friend, they get to sit down together in that space that Hob has created and kept as an altar of queer devotion both private and public, they smile at each other adoringly, and then what scene/setting do we cut straight to??

THE GIANT BEATING HEART OF THE THRESHOLD OF DESIRE. FROM ONE BEATING HEART OF DESIRE MADE VISIBLE DIRECTLY TO THE OTHER.

They were insane for this, truly. Insane.

#wordsinhaled #ask #hob gadling #dreamling #hopefully this made sense #i have uh. many feelings.#and now i need to lie down

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lilpunkrock · 2 years

Text

where you go (i will go) — part v

Summary: The Dream Lord leads you to a pocket in time where your partnership begins. A visit from a most unwelcome guest presents you with an ultimatum.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x f!reader

Words: 6.0k+

AN: I swear, every time I think to myself, “This is going to be a shorter chapter,” the words just keep on flowing. Thank you all so much for the love you have shown parts i-iv. Your kind words and theories fuel my fire!! I truly appreciate you all so much, and I hope you enjoy!

series masterlist // mood board // ao3

. . .

“Falling somewhere in between what I loved and wanted,

Losing everything I need, falling to the start and,

Then you came out of the dark while the world is spinning,

Round, round, round.”

Spinning, With Confidence

. . .

part v

Darkness.

You’re floating in darkness, a sea of inky black. All-consuming, all-encompassing, absolute.

Rather than intimidating, you find it comforting. Floating in this space, relishing in your weightlessness, your heart twinges slightly with the far-off feeling that something is wrong. Wasn’t something wrong just a moment ago? No, that doesn’t make sense. How could anything be wrong when you feel this free?

A presence draws near you. It feels warm, welcoming, kind. “Oh, bother. Not another one. Sibling, you’ve begun to go too far.”

You know that voice. Haven’t you heard it before? Yes, you swear you have, a long, long time ago . . .

There’s a gentle pull at something in your chest. Coaxing, calling. “Come on, now, love. It’s time to go.”

You would be safe with her, happy. You can sense it in the sweet timber of her voice, in her motherly, caring aura. The very marrow of your bones, some secret script written into your soul, tells you to sink deeper into the darkness and fly away with her. But something undeniably human holds you back. No, you cry out, voiceless. Not yet. I’m not ready. I can’t leave him.

Her sigh washes over you like a morning breeze. “Oh, love. Don’t you see what’s happened? …No, I suppose not. Love can blind you.” A pause. You feel her pity swaddle you like a blanket. It makes you want to cry tears of relief and self-loathing simultaneously. “Come on, now. You’ll be safe with me.”

That coaxing feeling in your chest rises again. In the darkness, with barely a sense of self, there’s seemingly nothing you can do to quell it. Unsure of how to ground yourself here, you submit to whatever awaits you.

But then, the feeling stops.

“Kindly Ones,” the woman breathes.

. . .

When you emerge from Morpheus’s cloak to find yourself standing on a new section of Dream Country’s dark shoreline, the admission comes to you unbidden. “I must say, I could get used to traveling via ‘cosmos cloak.’”

The Endless at your side sweeps said cloak closed gracefully, a sky full of stars retreating within it. Unlike the shoreline you watched him craft dreams and nightmares on for most of the day, your current section of beach is far from the palace and its bright lights. You can barely spot the soft glow that they cast on the sky from their place miles beyond the mountain ranges lining the beach. Here, the midnight sky seems to soak down toward you, saturating the scene in darkness, blanketing the beach in shadows. If it weren’t for his pale complexion, Morpheus would blend right into the sands. “Is that so?” he asks with the slightest quirk of his brow.

“It is. I’ve always been a little partial to the night. The stars, constellations, galaxies . . . there’s innumerable stories up there just waiting to be created, told, and heard. Watching them, thinking about them—it’s magical and humbling. It’s calming to me.” Your mind wanders over all your nights spent gazing out your bedroom window, retelling the histories of constellations in your head, crafting fables for those whose stories had not yet been written. Pushing off your resting hours just a little longer.

“An unexpected pastime for a goddess whose realm is, in essence, an interminable rainbow.”

It’s the closest he’s come to making a semblance of a joke since you met—maybe the closest he’s ever come to making a semblance of a joke, you think—and a laugh bubbles up from within you. There is much about me you might not expect, you think dryly, but keep to yourself. Instead, you ask, “So, is this it? The most powerful place in the Dreaming?”

“Not quite,” the Dream Lord replies. “We shall walk from here.” He beckons you down toward the waterline, and you follow. As you draw near the waves, a new shape comes into view: A narrow wooden walkway. The dock stretches on and on, disappearing into a luminescent nebula of teal and lavender mist that you now spot in the distance. The fog seems to glow from within, casting the sky above it in cool shades of blue, green, and purple.

Morpheus strides onto the dock without hesitation, black boots padding against the wooden slats quietly. A part of you wonders how old this walkway is. If it’s the most powerful location in the Dreaming, you imagine it's liable to have been here since the land’s conception. In spite of its undoubtedly ancient age, the wood gives only the softest of creaks when your canvas sneakers tentatively settle on the first board. Relieved that they don’t bow, you quicken your pace to catch up with Morpheus.

The two of you walk in silence for several minutes. As the shoreline fades behind you and the luminescent fog draws nearer, you note that the quiet sounds of Dream Country have faded to nothing. The world around you is utterly silent save for the soft padding of your feet on the dock and the whisper of the waves swaying around you. The back of your neck prickles with the distinct sensation that secrets lurk beyond the water’s surface.

“What is this place?” you say when your curiosity grows too great. As you do, movement catches the corner of your eye—a bright flash of color beneath the surface of the water. You turn your head quickly, only to find nothing but your startled reflection staring back at you. You blink several times, unsure of yourself, but nothing changes.

“The most powerful location in the Dreaming. The place where the veil between the Dreaming and the Waking World is at its thinnest.” The fluorescent mist before you seems to reach toward Morpheus’s form, cutting his lithe, dark figure in sharp relief. As he walks, one hand trails off to his side. You swear the rippling of the waves mimics the slow sway of his fingers, following his lead. But maybe your eyes are playing more tricks on you. “These waters are a tangible extension of my own self. They facilitate my passage to the Waking World when I desire it. More importantly, they contain the collective unconscious of the universe. This is where humans’ dreams reside and occur in real time.”

Your lips part in awe at his admission, your mind at a loss for a reply. And there it is again—that flash of color in the water beside you. You stop abruptly, crouching to peer into the dark waves below the dock. Squinting, you finally spot it—a smear of gold swimming beneath the waves, its form blurred at the edges by the dark water. It’s far enough below the surface that you can’t distinguish what it is at first. Then, a single shape begins to approach the surface, its form sharpening at the edges. A hand. Mesmerized, your own hand reaches out instinctively, your fingers stretching toward one another—

“I would suggest you refrain from interacting with these waters alone. The dreams and nightmares within them respond only to their master.” Morpheus’s cool baritone cuts through your trance like a blade, and you pull your hand back abruptly. When you blink, the hand and golden form you’re certain you saw is gone. Only an almost imperceptible ripple on the water’s surface remains.

You shake your head to dispel the last remnants of your daze and rise to your feet hastily, quickening your pace to catch up to Morpheus. In the time swallowed up by your trance, he’s almost reached the mist. “If they only respond to you, how am I going to influence them?” you ask, craning your neck to peer at his placid expression. You silently curse the dock for not being wide enough for two.

Morpheus tilts his head slightly, but doesn’t turn. “These waters and the dreams within them are my creation. If I permit your influence, they shall respond in kind.”

A weighty feeling settles over your shoulders at his words. Responsibility. Not just to execute your own function, but to do justice through his. Caught in the crosshairs between feeling flattered and petrified, your mouth goes dry, your tongue like sandpaper. For so long, you had chosen to avoid inserting yourself into the affairs of other deities, let alone the Endless. Sure, you had spoken with Death from time to time throughout the ages, but that was different. This was a partnership. Walking into this new situation, you feel entirely unprepared.

In spite of this, when Morpheus disappears into the thick mist hovering over the dock, you follow without hesitation.

Stepping into the mist is like stepping into another world entirely. Dream Country feels far behind as you drink in your new surroundings. Chilled shades of teal and lavender swirl in lazy patterns around you, cradling this pocket of ocean you’ve stepped into like hands cradling a globe. Looking at this new scene up close, you realize that the colors swirling around you are not merely a mist. No, they’re something otherworldly, something nebulous—ethereal gossamers of stardust. Beyond the luminous shades of blue, purple, and green lies a pitch black sky. Stars scatter through it like spilled glitter. Thin wisps of fog ghost over the waters surrounding you. And just ahead, in the center of this suspended globe, is the end of the dock.

When he reaches it, Morpheus stops. You slow to stand just behind him.

Standing in the most powerful location in the Dreaming, you take note of just how amplified Morpheus’s power is here. The air itself feels like a living creature—rippling, churning, electrified. You breathe in deeply, savoring the hum of the air as it spills into your lungs, seeking to calm your hammering heart. When you had first concocted your plan to work with the Dream Lord to combat Desire, only a small part of you had believed it might actually be possible. From speaking to Death, to entering Morpheus’s throne room, to introducing him to your function, doubt had shadowed your mind every step of the way. Would he really say yes? And even if he did, would a feat like this even be possible? Though your functions often overlapped with other deities, you’d never truly collaborated with one before. Combining your abilities to create something new. To stand at the edge of this dock was to stand on the precipice of something vast and unknown.

“Are you sure this is really possible?” you ask. Your voice is tight with emotion, barely above a whisper.

Morpheus stills for a moment, then slowly turns. Wisps of teal and purple stardust swirl in his eyes as they rest on you. “You are a guest of the Dreaming, in the presence of Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless.” His voice is low and soft, assured. When he speaks, the world around you seems to hold its breath. “In my Realm, all things are possible.”

You exhale slowly, and the air sighs with you. Your stammering heart slows. “Okay,” you say quietly. Seeking to shed your insecurity under his confident gaze, you set your shoulders back and raise your chin. Grounding yourself. Louder, you say it again, “Okay. Let’s do it.”

Morpheus dips his head in acknowledgement. “Who will be the first?”

You fish in your pocket for your list of daily assignments. As you unfold the Fates’ papers, your eyes search for names glowing with red and white halos. Eros and philia attachments. The bonds receiving the most unwanted attention from Desire. Your gaze settles on the first pairing you see, a set of names you remember very well from your visit to them earlier today. “Cole Hart and Rose Martinez. Both of Emerald Isle.”

Morpheus’s unruly hair skims his eyelashes as he turns toward the water and bows his head. You watch as his eyes flit back and forth behind his closed eyelids, searching for something. After a moment, they still.

When the Dream Lord turns his palms upward and slowly raises his arms, the sea responds in kind. A soft gasp escapes you as the waves just beyond the dock begin to shift their course. They swirl slowly, drawing themselves upward at Morpheus’s behest until two spheres of water hover within arm’s reach of you. Stray droplets slide off the orbs, plipping softly against the dock and the toes of your sneakers. Mesmerized, you lean forward, peering curiously at the movement you spy within the spheres. Flashes of color, blurs, shapes, scenes—dreams, you realize. Playing out in real time before you.

Your hand reaches out unbidden, palm resting against the curved surface of the sphere on your right. The feeling is no different than placing your palm on an ocean’s surface, the cool water lapping gently against your hand. And yet, you know this is so much more significant. This is a living mortal unconscious in the palm of your hand. You’re cradling their safe haven from the Waking World, the place where they delight in fantasy and delve into their deepest fears. A warm, soft feeling grips your heart at the thought. Humbling captures its essence best, though even that description seems to come up short. You wonder if Dream Lord ever drew up your own unconscious from the depths when you were . . .

“They are ready for you.” You lick your lips nervously, giving Morpheus a quick nod in response. Your left hand rises to rest on the sphere of water to your left. You swallow thickly as a mix of terror and exhileration surges through you. This is the moment. It is time to create a new way, a new function.

You close your eyes, dipping your head in concentration. As you inhale deeply, a warm feeling alights on your chest. With it comes a sense of familiarity, comfort, and relief. You’d know that feeling anywhere. You’d only ever felt it - your capabilities, your function, your power - in the Realm of Attachment. And yet, here you were, channeling that power in the Dreaming. You exhale slowly, zeroing in on the feeling, nurturing it. The sensation responds in kind, growing larger, burning brighter, and you channel it outward, through you, into the air around you. The perpetual hum of power radiating from Morpheus intensifies as your own mingles with it.

Your attention shifts from the warmth coursing through you to the dreamers in the palms of your hands. Hello, you greet them. A tingling sensation ripples through you as their hearts call out to you in return. Ah, that’s it—Cole is in your left hand, and Rose is in your right.

You first focus your attention on Rose’s unconscious. In your mind's eye, you imagine Cole’s features from this morning when you had traveled to Emerald Isle to foster their eros attachment. Curly brown hair, grass green eyes, fingertips calloused from rigging fishing lures. You imagine yourself plucking his toothy grin from the center of your mind and placing it gently in Rose’s. Warmth crashes through you like a tidal wave.

Next, you turn your mind to Cole’s. Rose’s features flit through your thoughts in a montage: Hair as dark as Morpheus’s, sun-kissed skin, fingertips skimming effortlessly across piano keys in her band class. A smile graces your lips as you feel a tingle pass from your chest through to your fingertips.

When you’re finished, you find yourself holding your eyes closed a moment longer, hesitant to see what lies on the other side. Did it work? you wonder. There’s only one way to find out.

After several quiet moments, you succumb to your curiosity. A breathless laugh escapes you as your eyes settle on Rose’s sun-kissed face smiling from within Cole’s unconscious, then Cole’s toothy grin beaming from within Rose’s.

A tingling, out-of-body feeling ripples through you as your breathless laughter grows louder, bubbling up from somewhere deep within you. Maker, you hadn’t felt something emerge from that space in a long time. For the first time since your rebirth, you had created something that was your own. Something outside the explicit laws of your function. Something new.

You felt like you could faint. You felt like you could fly.

Beaming with radiant, unbridled delight, you turn to the Dream Lord, who has said nothing yet. You find him staring intently at the visages you have placed in the minds of Cole and Rose, his eyes flickering back and forth between the spheres, his rosebud lips almost imperceptibly parted. You lean forward slightly, hoping to draw his attention, but he remains fixated. Is it possible that, in spite of his earlier comment, even he is taken aback that this has occurred? Or perhaps he is simply as enamored by this opportunity to create something new as you are?

When the Dream Lord draws in a breath, you wonder if he’s going to tell you. Wonder if, perhaps, you’ve finally begun to make a chip in his armor. But then his captivated gaze eases, and the suspense in the air dissipates. “And the next?” he rasps.

Still, you smile.

…

By the time you’ve placed the last image of lovers and soulmates in the minds of dreamers this evening, your mind is reeling and your brow is damp with sweat. You heave a hefty sigh and run your fingers through your hair as Morpheus lowers the final two spheres of unconsciousness back into the Dreaming’s sea. Though your body aches for rest, your own temporary retreat from the demands of consciousness, you can’t deny how unbelievably alive you feel. Your body feels like a tuning fork, your very bones singing with glee at the opportunity to do and create. Your mind careens with a heady mixture of exhaustion, euphoria, and relief. The runner’s high at the end of a marathon. You feel you could subsist on this feeling alone until the end of your days. Until the end of the Endless.

You did it, Love. You did it.

“Well, that made for a good night’s work. We got through my entire list of eros and philia attachments for today.” You sigh contentedly as you fold said list and slip it into your pocket. You peer at Morpheus curiously as you do. His stare remains directed toward the waters of the Dreaming, disheveled hair obscuring his eyes from your view. As the silence stretches on, you venture a step closer to him. “What do you think? Of how things went?” you ask.

Morpheus studies the waters for a moment longer before turning to you. When your eyes meet, you find yourself studying the lazy swirling pattern of teal and lavender stardust reflected in them. You’ve noticed that the nebulous haze and the midnight sky beyond do not seem to change in this place. Though you know you must have been out here for hours, the sky hasn’t darkened or brightened, nor have the stars shifted. This pocket of the universe is truly a space trapped in time.

Morpheus’s reply is low and measured. “It appears our collaboration has been successful. It will be necessary, of course, to observe the humans in the Waking World to know with certainty.”

You nod, trailing closely after Morpheus as he begins to make his way back down the dock, toward the shore. “Of course. When I made my rounds this morning, I orchestrated their relationships to all begin within the next few days. I’ll keep a close eye on each of them to see if the attachment goes as planned and to see if Desire stays away from them.”

Morpheus nods in response as you approach the edge of the mist. As you pass through it, you reach out your hand, twirling stardust between your fingers like threads of silk. When you emerge on the other side, you spot the shoreline in the far distance, the dark sands illuminated beneath the Dreaming’s full moon. Admittedly, after a long night of work, it makes for a sight for sore eyes.

“Thank you,” you say suddenly, quietly.

Morpheus does not pause in his walking. “What might you be thanking me for?” he asks.

“For everything. For saying yes to helping me. For encouraging me tonight. For allowing me permission to step into your world. For not belittling me for being a goddess in need when you are an Endless.” One corner of your mouth turns upward in a wistful grin. “If I’m being honest, before I met you, I assumed you would. Tell me no, or belittle me, I mean. I know that seems unkind, but save for your sister, I don’t have the best experience with Endless. I’m very grateful that things didn’t go as I expected.”

Morpheus continues walking in silence. Rather than awkward or loaded, you find the quiet . . . comfortable. You’re growing accustomed to his lengthy pauses and lack of responses. Though seemingly rude upon first examination, you’re starting to feel that they are more contemplative than ill-mannered. In a world where everyone’s first instinct is to fill the silence, the Dream Lord seems to welcome it. Perhaps he really was taking Lucienne’s words to heart and working on becoming a more adept listener.

Of course, you’d been wrong in your judgment of character before. It wasn’t something you intended on doing again. Unraveling the mystery of Dream of the Endless would be an exercise in patience. If you were to be working together, it was an endeavor you were committed to undertaking.

The silence stretches on long enough that you assume he doesn’t intend to respond. Just as your mind starts to wander, however, Morpheus’s baritone cuts through your thoughts. “You need not thank me for my encouragement,” he says, each word articulated, deliberate. “Do not doubt your divinity. You were capable of completing what occurred tonight even prior to my comments. My words did not dictate that.”

You roll your eyes half-heartedly, a small smile playing on your lips. Leave it to tall, dark, and broody to not simply accept a compliment.

The two of you walk in silence the rest of the way to the shoreline. When your sneakers sink into the sand, you breathe a sigh of relief. Maker, now that your adrenaline is winding down, it hits you just how in need of a recharge you really are. Though you don’t look forward to what awaits you in your unconscious, you’re hopeful that you might feel some semblance of rest when you exit it in the morning. “So, I was thinking that we might want to do this nightly. After all, I do get a new list of assignments each day, and Desire works quickly.” You stretch your arms over your head, eager for the comforting feeling of crawling into bed after a long day’s work. “Would that work for you?”

“That will be acceptable,” Morpheus replies.

“Wonderful. I suppose I’m ready to go home, then.” Your eyes skim over the beach before they come to rest on him. “Will Matthew be coming to take me back? Or will you be sending me home?”

The Dream Lord’s posture is stiff and authoritative as he says, “You will not be departing quite yet.”

Your eyebrows jump in surprise. “Oh? Is that so?”

“Yes.” The word slips past his pouted lips with emphasis, an insistence characteristic of someone accustomed to getting what they want. The Dream Lord takes a step closer to you, his dark figure framed by the star-speckled sky behind him. “When I visited your Realm, I informed you of a set of questions I had. Now that you are in my Realm, I intend to ask them.”

A tired chuckle escapes you as your shoulders slump. “Come on, Dream Lord. It’s late. Perhaps another time?”

His expression makes no change at your plea, his eyes boring into you intently. Maker, he was stubborn. With a sigh, you concede, saying, “Fine. But only one question—“

“No—“

“—and I’ll answer the rest another time.” When his expression still refuses to budge, you lift your chin, channeling an authority of your own. “I promise,” you say.

The Dream Lord’s eyebrows furrow in frustration. His lips purse as his jaw works itself, chewing on your proposition. You hold his gaze firmly. As Dream of the Endless, you imagine he was used to having his way. If the partnership between you was to be effective, he would need to learn the art of compromise.

After a drawn-out moment, Morpheus speaks. “I have existed since the dawn of the first thought. Throughout the ages, many gods and goddesses have abandoned their functions and realms when humanity presented them with challenges. Be it a decline in faith, displeasure with their subjects’ worship, or humans’ blatant disregard for the desires of their gods, countless have allowed themselves to succumb to myth in response to humanity’s opposition.” He pauses, his words hanging in the air between you. “Why do you continue?”

What inspires the one who spends all his time inspiring others? Your own words replay in your mind as his question seeps into you. You draw in a shuddering breath, unsure of what to say. Or, more accurately, how much to say. Of course you know why you continue. Your conviction is a brand upon your heart, something you are reminded of every night. A card you have always held close to your chest.

Morpheus looks at you expectantly. Trust. The word reverberates in your mind. After centuries of seclusion, it is something you are no longer well-versed in. But you know full well that it takes giving trust to earn it.

You lick your lips nervously as you exhale. Before you can lose your courage, you explain, “I was hurt once. A long time ago. I thought I was in love with him. I thought he loved me. But I was wrong.” You pause, working your jaw, mulling on the weighty truth of your confession. “Even though I was deceived, those moments were pure bliss. I was happy. I want to give others what I loved, but could not keep.” What you could not have. Will never have. You swallow thickly. “Even when it’s hard and ugly. The world needs that feeling. That’s why I’m here. That’s why I’m not giving up.”

Morpheus’s eyes hold yours intently. However, there’s a subtle shift there. Rather than authoritative, this intensity is . . . studious. Perhaps something you’ve said has resonated with him on some level. Surely even an Endless has experienced sacrifice, experienced loss? Your tongue itches to ask, but you bite back your questions. This moment feels fragile, but significant. You don’t wish to break it.

Several minutes pass in silence. Finally, Morpheus dips his head. “I apologize for keeping you to such a late hour. It has been a long day.” His hand slips into his pocket, emerging a moment later with a palmful of sand. “I shall send you home. Matthew will retrieve you tomorrow evening for another night of work.”

You nod idly, only for an alternative to suddenly cross your mind. You pause, debating on whether to ask this of him. “Actually, would you mind sending Matthew to get me in the morning?” You offer him a small, tentative smile. “I wouldn’t mind having another opportunity to watch you craft for the day. I found it . . . Interesting.”

Morpheus tilts his head ever so slightly, appraising you thoughtfully. Perhaps you’ve asked too much. As he brings the sand to his lips and prepares to blow, you hear him murmur softly, “Indeed, it is.”

You close your eyes in anticipation as the grains of sand scatter over you.

. . .

“Theo! I’m home.” Your voice echoes through your dark, quiet townhome as you slip through the front door. You dip your index finger into the sides of your sneakers, slipping them off on your doormat. Funny—normally Theo would be licking at your ankles right now, his unique way of saying “welcome home.”

When several more moments pass without hearing the quiet pitter patter of his paws, a pang of unease grips your heart. Something doesn’t seem quite right. “Theo?” you call again, hand fumbling for the light switch by the door. As your fingertips find purchase on it, a velvety voice purrs from the darkness of the living room, “Love, darling. How inhospitable of you to keep a guest waiting.”

With a flick of your wrist, the lights burst to life. Eyes like molten gold lock yours from their place on your couch.

There is a sinking feeling within you, like an anchor being thrown overboard. Dragging you down, down, down with it. “Get out,” you whisper, throat closing like a vice.

Desire of the Endless tuts softly, leisurely rising into a sitting position on your couch. Their eyebrows pinch together in mock offense, but you can see the unbridled glee dancing through their eyes. “What, no ‘Hello? How are you?’ Come on, darling, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.” Desire’s eyes flit around the room, taking in your modest townhome. Their nose wrinkles with distaste. “Still clinging to old dreams, I see.”

A surge of emotions roar through you at their indignance. Your jaw tightens. “Get out,” you say again, louder this time.

Desire’s red lips drop into a plump pout. “Really, Love? You would be so eager to throw me out? After all we’ve been through together?” Your bottom lip wobbles at their words. The sickly sweet grin that Desire shoots you in response sours your stomach. “I just wanted to drop in for a quick little chat. That’s all.”

Your eyes follow Desire apprehensively as they rise from the couch, stalking toward you with slow, cat-like movements. Desire’s presence has always been off-putting, almost more animal than humanoid. Their approach toward you is lithe, graceful, but you can’t mistake the coiled tension behind each step, the devilish intent lurking behind those grinning lips and bared teeth. There is no mistaking it—this is a predator.

“I see you’ve been spending time with my dear big brother as of late. An interesting choice by a hermit like yourself.” Desire circles you slowly, skimming one finger over the back of your shoulders. You stiffen under their touch. “Do tell, what are you and Dream up to?”

You draw in a shuddering breath, seeking to calm your hammering heart. Digging past your anxiety, past your fear at their arrival, you harness your simmering anger instead. “Surely you haven’t paid me a visit just to ask about your brother,” you say, your voice steadier than before. A spark of irritation alights in Desire’s eyes as they circle you again, and you grasp onto it, let it embolden you. “If you want to know about your brother’s affairs, you should ask him yourself. Now, why don’t you tell me—what are you doing here?”

“You really think I don’t know?” Desire’s voice hisses in your ear abruptly. From behind, their fingers encircle your biceps like talons, fingernails digging into your sleeves like claws. You startle, but breathe in deeply, attempting to retain your composure. “You really think I haven’t seen? I know what you’ve been doing to my precious threads of desire. Seeking to bypass them with your flimsy foretellings is a mistake. One that will cost you.”

They don’t know. They don’t know what you and Morpheus are doing. Your heart races with a mixture of relief and exhilaration at the realization. For now, Desire thinks you’ve only been bypassing their interference through your attachments. You need to keep it that way.

“You’re blind, Desire. Don’t you see what you’re doing to them?” you reply, voice tight with thinly veiled anger. “Your influence is getting out of hand. Families are being torn apart. Soulmates and lovers’ paths being skewed, never to cross again. Mortals are even murdering in your name. The scales that we share are becoming completely unbalanced—“

“Darling, come now. Don’t fool yourself. You know that is my intention.” Desire’s words pour into your ear like honey, sickeningly sweet. Their lips graze the shell of your ear as they whisper, “I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.”

Adrenaline spikes through you at their words, hot and striking. As you tear yourself from their grip and stumble away, Desire’s wicked laughter echoes through the room. A prickling surfaces behind your eyes, and you swallow hard. No. Not while they’re still here.

As you regain your footing, you spin around to find the Endless sauntering toward your front door. Their long, ring-adorned fingers throw it open with fanfare. “Well, darling, I must say—it’s been delightful to see you. You’re getting off with a warning this time, but next time . . . well, I suppose you’ll just have to see.” Desire steps out onto the threshold and into the darkness of night. They stop just shy of pulling the door closed behind them, golden eyes making contact with yours one final time. “You’d do well to let me do as I please, Love. After all, you know just how eager I am to bite when someone gets in my way.”

The door closes behind them with a resolute click.

You stand in the center of the living room for a long time, too stunned to move, too rattled to think. The only sound that permeates the air is the shallow huff of your heavy breathing. And then, the quiet plip plip of tears pattering against the hardwood floor. You sink to the wooden panels slowly, crumpling in on yourself, tears spilling hot and fast down your cheeks. You try to think clearly, try to process what just happened to you, but the events rush through your mind in a blur. You cry out in frustration. Too much. It’s all too much.

After several lonely minutes, you hear the quietclicking of nails against the hardwood floor. Raising your head, you watch as Theo emerges tentatively from the bedroom hallway. His tail is tucked, his ears laid back. When he spots you, his eyes brighten. He pads over to you eagerly.

“Hey, buddy,” you say through choked sobs. You wipe your eyes against the back of your hand and extend it to welcome Theo into your waiting arms. His soft nose nuzzles your cheek before he sets in to licking your fingers, sweeping up the remnants of your sorrow. You chuckle half-heartedly, choking down the warble in your voice. “I love you too, bud.” Your fingers delve to rub that magical spot behind his ears, and your cold heart warms slightly at his pleased expression. “It’s going to be okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

You spend the remainder of the night lying on your bed, hand absentmindedly stroking Theo’s fur, your mind racing down a cluttered freeway of thought. Rest does not find you.

. . .

When Matthew taps his pointed beak against your window as dawn breaks over the horizon, you’re already there waiting for him.

“Oh, hey! Good morning. Wasn’t expecting to see you standing there,” Matthew caws as he steps over the window sill and onto your waiting arm. “I heard that you and the boss had a late night. I’m surprised you wanted me to come get you this early.” He pauses, tilting his feathered head up at you curiously. You feel him observe your red-rimmed eyes, the dark circles hanging beneath them from lack of rest. “Hey . . . are you okay? Is something wrong?”

You smile softly at his concern. “Yes,” you say quietly. “I’m okay.” Because you are. If your sleepless night of thinking has taught you anything, it’s that you are okay. There is no other choice. You have to be.

Matthew eyes you tentatively, obviously weighing whether or not to press further. After a moment of contemplation, he seems to decide not to. “Okay, then. Well, I’m ready if you are.” His eyes gleam like black pearls in the light of the dawn. “Are you ready to go?”

You know that to move forward with this is to forfeit any chance of mercy from Desire. To proceed is to commit yourself to war, to throw away your only chance of things returning to the way they were before. Nothing will ever be the same.

The realization makes your decision even easier.

“Let’s go.”

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