#i’m just. mourning the life i could have had if something wasn’t so so wrong with me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sxtaep · 2 years

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ANTI ROMANTIC - PJM

you could come across as the number one hater of the male species, but not when it came to jimin.

pairing — jimin x female reader

genre — fluff, smut

word count — 3.4k+

warnings/tags — friends2lovers, fwb!au, dom!jimin, sub!reader, teasing, reader is an anti-romantic, lots of ranting, reader confesses, making out, swearing, explicit smut, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, exhbitionism, pillow riding, dirty talk, orgasm denial, reader is very put on the spot, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys) crying, creampie +more

a/n: what to do when the nation is in mourning? write jimin smut 💀 rest up queen elizabeth though, i remember when she came to my school and shook my hand after i gave her a bouquet of flowers 😭

You just wrapped up what you could only call the worst blind date known to mankind. The guy was smug and cocky: you could tell he probably had a thing for being better than women, and that right there was an immediate red flag for you.

Now sitting behind the wheel of your car, pure irritation evident on your face, all you could think about was how the fuck you could face Jimin after another failed blind date. That and the fact that you slept with Jimin a couple times but neither of you had the guts to really put a label on yourselves.

It was agreed your relationship with Jimin was strictly ‘no strings attached’, merely using each other as an output to deal with the stress of work. The two of you must’ve been stressed everyday since it seemed that was how often you both went at it.

“I’ve got a blind date tonight,” you tell him, entering his office to bother him as you usually did.

A blind date?

Jimin wasn’t expecting you to start dating people whilst sleeping with him on the down low. Was that how these things worked?

“You’re going on a date? Why?” He looks up from his desk, clearly confused about it since you always preached about how much you hated men and relationships.

You shrug, “I can’t keep sleeping with you for the rest of my life, eventually you’ll fall in love with someone else and want to get married and have kids.”

You weren’t wrong, Jimin did have all this planned for his future, but he never really saw some other girl with him. All these plans were made with the intention of doing them with you.

“Plus, it’s not like we’re together or anything, so I don’t see what’s stopping me.”

“Well…” he didn’t really know what to say. Does he suddenly confess now or never? If this blind date of yours was a success, he’ll never have the chance to tell you how he really felt, but you seemed really excited about it, he shouldn’t ruin that for you.

“I mean, are you sure you wanna go on a blind date? Kind of a big step for someone who hates relationships,” he says, cocking a brow at you sat opposite his desk.

You didn’t seem as concerned as he was, but then again, why did he care so much?

“Do you want me to give you hourly updates or something? Seems a bit much, Park,” you chuckle softly, failing to notice the inner conflict he was having. “Are you worried about me?”

“No, I’m just looking out for you,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes at your silly teasing. In all honesty, it felt like he was being replaced. “Whatever though, don’t come crying to me late at night when the date doesn’t go to plan.”

When you get home, you you contemplate on updating Jimin. A part of you wanted to send him a message but the other didn’t wanna hear him say ‘I told you so’ as he did many times before.

But fuck it.

you: are you at home?

jimin: yeah, why? you coming over? or you wanna meet somewhere else?

you: no, just make sure you’re home

With that final message sent, you change out of your date night clothes, opting for something more comfortable, but once you’re out of your dress, you look down at your bare body in nothing but intricate black lace (yes, you wore a set with the intention of getting laid tonight) and figured you’d keep it on.

For Jimin.

You throw on a long trench coat to cover up, shivering a little once the material is wrapped securely around your naked body. It was a risky game going out like this, but for some reason, you felt obligated to do this.

If he wanted to make you feel bad, you may as well look good whilst he did it.

The very moment you had texted Jimin, he had just come out the shower, clean and fresh. He re-read your message a couple times, trying to figure out why you were coming over all of a sudden. Was the date so great you wanted to gush about it to him? Or did it go so terribly you were about to rant as soon as you stepped in? Or possibly, were you coming over to fuck?

He couldn’t quite put his finger on it and continued about his night, dressing loosely with a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.

Why wear so much if it was gonna come off anyway?

With that thought, three knocks were had at his door, and he had no doubt that it was you.

You were left waiting for a couple seconds, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor continuously until you were met with a very bare Jimin, forcing your incessant tapping to come to a halt and your breath to catch in your throat.

You eyed every inch of him; his perfectly sculpted v-line, the crevices of his abs, the simple, yet impacting ‘never mind’ tattoo adorning his ribs, and finally his face, which was slightly moist due to the droplets of water falling from the ends of his hair.

“Hi..” you say breathlessly, “Can I come in?”

Jimin caught you eyeing him up, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, he moves aside to let you in, “By all means.”

As you step inside, his eyes follow your form taking notice of the unusual outfit you were wearing. Heels with your legs bare, you must’ve been wearing a dress underneath the coat, but he couldn’t be certain, the damn coat was shielding away his curiosity.

“I’m guessing your date didn’t go well,” Jimin chuckles softly, closing the front door and turning to look at you, “Wanna talk about it over a drink?” Though it sounded like an open ended question, he didn’t wait for you to respond, already making his way into the kitchen to pull out two wine glasses.

“Listen…” you start, your voice low, yet loud enough for Jimin to hear. You’re stuck standing by the door, watching, him set the two glasses down on the marble counter. “I.. am a good girl,” you begin, trying not to sound stupid. “In school, I always followed the rules to the point where a lot of people actually hated me for it.”

The confusion on Jimin’s face was clear as day, and you knew he was about to interrupt you, but you continue to talk, raising your hand up towards him, “Let me finish,” you exhale, “I didn’t have my first kiss until I was 17, probably because I hated the idea of it.”

What the hell were you talking about?

Jimin cocks a brow, leaving his position behind the counter to approach you, “Did I do something wrong?”

The man never hated you, nor did he think you were crazy to have such outlandish opinions on relationships (he understood where you were coming from) and sometimes it was annoying, but not annoying enough to push you away from him. At the end of the day, you were close friend to him.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reassure him, stopping Jimin in his tracks. “I shouldn’t have gone on that blind date. It went horribly.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you, and Jimin remained as he was in case you were still speaking.

“This failed blind date, along with everything we’ve done together, made me realise I’m only ever genuinely happy when I’m with you. It’s pretty fun not having to fuck my pillow every night,” you say, your cheeks growing beet red at the confession. “And I think it’s safe to say that I don’t not want be in a relationship..”

Your eyes meet his and for the first time tonight, Jimin was speechless. He hadn’t said a word and at this moment, you were glad. “So…” your hands travel down to the belt tied around your waist, pulling on one end to loosen the knot and have the coat comfortably slip free down your shoulders, revealing the black strap of you bra draped over your shoulders.

Jimin knew what was coming. He was bracing himself for what you were about to do.

The trench coat finally hit the floor, pooling around your feet and his breath hitches. He raked his eyes up and down your body, drinking in the sight of you. Flawless skin, perfect curves and a face so radiant, you were the only thing glowing under the dim light of his apartment.

“Woah,” is all he says, having no shame displaying the grin on his face. “You sure know how to flatter a man, Y/N,” Jimin shakes his head, as if disapproving your outfit, but really, the man was losing it inside.

He’s quick on his feet, steadily approaching your form and stopping in front of you, his eyes solemnly kept on you, “I’m glad you finally came to your senses,” he says, reaching his hand up to cup your cheek, gently smoothing his thumb across your skin. “How about we do something a little more fitting for your attire tonight?”

You didn’t bother processing his words, wasting no time in crashing your lips against his in an aggressive kiss, Jimin undoubtedly reciprocating and automatically wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his chest.

His embrace wasn’t long lasting, hands moving down the small of your back to briefly graze the curve of your ass before settling behind your upper thighs, hoisting you up, “Jump,” Jimin mumbles against your lips, eliciting a short hum from you and you immediately oblige, wrapping your legs around your waist and he held onto you securely.

Not once did either of you break the kiss as he carried you towards his bedroom, but once in his bedroom, you pulled away to catch your breath. “I bet you do this with every girl you hook up with, huh?”

“Just you, sweetheart,” he smirks, responding with zero hesitation, gently laying you lie body on his mattress so he could cherish the sight of you.

A gorgeous, stunning, goddess.

“I bet your pillow’s gonna get bored now, huh?”

Your jaw drops, cheeks turning a slight hue of red from embarrassment. Maybe you shouldn’t have told him about that, now he’d be able to use it against you at any given opportunity. You prop yourself up on your elbows, tilting your head at the partly-naked man before you, “I bet my pillow can make me feel a lot better than you can.”

“You wanna test that theory out?” Jimin challenges, leaning over you to grab one of the many pillows on his bed, leaving it beside you. “Can your pillow make you cry? Can your pillow fuck you as good as I can?” He continues to list out all the things you both done together over the last few months, knowing full well the answer to all his questions were no.

He shifts his position to climb onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard with his legs spread far and wide to show you the tent straining against his sweatpants. “If it can, then show me,” he gestures towards the pillow and your almost at a loss for words.

He was gonna watch you get off, and you felt so belittled liking the idea of it.

You grab ahold of the pillow, fluffing it up a bit for your own comfort. “Fine, but you’re not allowed to touch me and you have to sit on the other side of your room,” you instruct him, pointing to the chair tucked under his desk.

Gosh, you were so bossy, but Jimin would do anything to make a princess happy.

“And you’re not allowed to come,” he warns you, pushing himself off the bed and towards his desk, pulling the chair out to face you before taking a seat, adjusting the boner in his pants before gesturing his chin towards you, encouraging you to make a start. “Go ahead, I’ll tell you when to stop.”

You take his previous position and lean back against the headboard, making yourself comfortable before spreading your legs before him, giving him the perfect view of your soaked panties firmly pressing against you. You took your time, hovering your fingers over the damp material and briskly brushing over your clothed clit, triggering your body to shudder.

Knowing that wasn’t enough for you, you slipped your hand past the band of your panties, the pad of your fingers reaching to rub slow, drawn out circles over your sensitive clit. You didn’t need to do much, the mere sight of Jimin turning you on beyond measures.

Jimin was sat far across from you, his chin slightly raised as he watched you and his hand unknowingly palming the erection trapped between his legs and groaning. It hurt so bad he just pushed his sweatpants halfway down his thighs along with his boxers to free the painful erection. He couldn’t bring himself to take his eyes off you as his fingers simultaneously wrapped around his hardening cock.

“Don’t work yourself up too much, you still have that pillow to attend to,” Jimin’s voice echoed through the room, almost missing your attention. You were getting carried away with your own fingers, you completely forgot about the pillow.

You groan and reach out for the pillow, now sitting up on your knees, and spreading your legs apart to make room for the pillow. The pillow was thick enough for you to have a firm hold on it, and as soon as you sunk down on it, the knock on effect of the material brushing over your heat left you whimpering.

Your reactions had Jimin squeezing on the base of his cock, revelling over how sensitive you were.

He loved it.

All you had to do was imagine the pillow was Jimin and you’d be good to go. It seemed effective once you started rocking your hips back and forth against the pillow, failing to contain your short, but sweet whimpers. Your hips would slow down every now and again, taking long, deep strokes to delay your orgasm as much as possible but it didn’t seem to work.

You looked up at Jimin who’s position was now slouched on the chair, steadily pumping his cock between his fists as he watched you.

“Don’t look at me..” you mumble shyly, shaking your head and looking down at the pillow that had already picked up your arousal, darkening the material slightly.

“Why not?” he chuckles breathlessly, repeatedly swiping his thumb over the head of his cock and smearing any and all the precum down the base. His eyes came to a shut in pure bliss as he picked up the pace of his wrist, his groans becoming low moans. All he could think about were your perfect pouty lips wrapping around his cock and sucking him off just right.

“Take the bra off, lemme’ see your tits.”

You don’t hesitate to oblige, flipping your hair to the side and reaching your hands back to unclasp your bra and let the straps fall seamlessly down your shoulders. Your nipples had hardened within seconds being exposed but you couldn’t bring yourself to care enough, too busy rutting against the pillow.

“I can’t believe you let me go on a blind date,” you seethe, projecting your anger towards him and the pace of your hips, now struggling to keep yourself stable.

“We weren’t exactly together, I couldn’t stop you,” Jimin tries to reason with you, aggravation evident in his tone as he mercilessly fucked his fist. He was close, and from the way your body was jerking, he knew you were close too.

It took the man everything and more to still his hand along his member and stand up from his chair, walking over to you with a sly smirk on his face.

“On your stomach, raise your hips. And tell me, what do you think about when you fuck your pillow?”

You whine and force yourself to pull the pillow from between your legs, leaving it elsewhere as you positioned yourself like he’d asked.

“I think about you..” you whisper, “I think about your tongue— your hands all over me.” You hesitate to say more, but you knew that if you really wanted that orgasm, you had to spill. “I think about milking your cock every night, even before we started fucking,” you cry, pushing yourself back against him. The lack of attention to your weeping cunt was playing up with you, “And I love when you tease me— God, I fucking love it.”

Jimin grins, grabbing ahold of your hips and firmly rutting against you from behind, “Mhm, I’ll give you all that and more,” he smiles contently, positioning the head of his cock at your slick hole, teasing you a little before finally pushing into you and eliciting a low ‘fuck’ from his end.

The air is knocked out of lungs much quicker than you expected, the stretch catching you off guard, even though it wasn’t the first time you’d taken him like this; a clear indication you were yet to get used to his size.

“Been thinking about keeping you all to myself,” he admits, short of breath as he looked down between where your body’s met, “Just had to take my time with you. huh?”

Jimin’s words were going through one ear and out the other. All you could hear was his low grunts and your strained moans. “Oh my God— Jimin,” you force out, your half lidded eyes rolling to the back of your head as your poor cunt took him whole.

“No other man can make you feel as good as I can,” he retorts cockily, digging his nails into your hips once he feels your walls greedily squeeze around him. The action makes the pace of his hips falter, but he’s quick to get back on top of it, “Make sure you fucking remember that.”

You nod diligently. You already knew that his words were the truth and the way he was putting it into practice was taking over your being, almost brainwashing you.

You do him the favour of arching your back a little more, giving Jimin all the more room to hold onto you, but it seemed like he had other plans, using this opportunity to pull out and forcing you turn around to lie on your back. You couldn’t say anything, his arms hooking under your knees to push them up towards your chest before swiftly pushing into you again, thrusting at a pace so ungodly, you were sure you couldn’t handle it.

“Too much, Jimin!” you gasp, turning your head away from him to shield your embarrassing state.

He was quick to notice and grabbed ahold of your cheeks, forcing you to look back at him and he continued to fuck you at his torturous pace, rolling his heels deeper into you, “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

You couldn’t imagine what you looked like right now, but Jimin could safely say you looked like every man’s wet dream. Your fucked out state had his cock twitching between your soft walls, and you couldn’t help but clench around him, giving him that final push to reach his high.

“I’m close..” you breathe out, shaking your head in a bid to ease yourself of your coming orgasm, but Jimin was adamant on having your full, undivided attention.

“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he says, releasing your knees from its contraption only to have your legs dangle over his shoulders as he brought his thumb down to circle over your clit and using it as leverage to push you towards your orgasm.

And that seemed to do the job. A string of curses fell from your lips as you completely broke down on him, a sheen layer of white making an appearance between your legs which only became more prominent once Jimin slowed down. A visible mix of white had coated his cock as he continued to slowly fuck you in a bid to help you calm down.

Jimin’s jaw fell slack once he decided to pull out of you, leaving a trail of white behind him as he fell to lie beside you,

You both finally established this was more than just a mutual fuck; it was an open-ended gateway for the pair of you to become something more.

perm taglist: @aliceaflor5-blog - @kookiecrumb - @jjkeverlast - @prettyghost - @kooliv - @koobsessed - @gimmethatagustd - @pb-n-juju - @aslias17 - @ririlovesangst - @kootonins - @taehyungseggs - @dewamused - @jungshook7 - @jiminsneckkisses - @moonfaery - @jkluvrrs

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 7 months

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Hades , Hermes , and Poseidon with a fem Valkyrie reader who they have a crush on but reader is a combination of Hrist and Geiravor and when they fight reader , reader gives them the most disgusted look to them

-You were known in Valhalla as the most stunning of all the Valkyries, you radiated confidence, beauty, elegance, as well as power- many knew not to cross you.

-There were many gods as well as many humans who held you in high standard, putting you up on a pedestal, and in popularity contests, you always were the highest out of your sisters and out of everyone you always ranked in the top five.

-Your sisters all adored you and you adored them- you were fiercely protective of them, even the ones like Brunnhilde and Thrud, who were stronger than you.

-You were a blend of your sisters, both hard and soft, both wise and reckless, a perfect blend, but the sisters you resembled the most were Hrist and Geiravor, you could be calm and elegant, but pushed wrong, you were unforgiving and brutal, demanding respect.

-However, despite your admirers, you were single, as you always rejected the advances of others, politely letting them down the first time, firmly the second, then if they still tried and didn’t get the hint you didn’t hesitate to put them in their place.

-However, there were many who liked that- when you would put them in their place, finding your dominate personality, rather attractive.

-It’s not like you weren’t looking for romance, it’s just that those who were attracted to you weren’t your type- this was something you sisters sometimes teased you about, teasing that you were picky, which would always make you pout adorably.

-You disliked the types of men who believed you belonged to them just because they were powerful or high ranking, you also disliked men who believed you belonged to them- you didn’t belong to anyone!

-Unfortunately, these were the types that were vying for your affections, finding you ‘worthy’ of them, and expected you to just fall into their arms and be happy for the rest of your lives.

-That wasn’t a life that you wanted, you wanted to be free even while in a relationship, you wanted to be with someone who wouldn’t tie you down, who wouldn’t demand things of you, and most of all be loyal to you and you alone, and you would return it- all of it.

-When Brunnhilde told you and the other Valkyries about Ragnarok, you agreed, willing to fight alongside your sisters to help humanity, even at the risk of your own life.

-You mourned those who fell before you, your sisters and the warriors, and cheered for those who won, beaming with pride, and when it came to your turn, you weren’t scared in the slightest, something your partner felt, so in turn, he wasn’t scared either.

-You scowled lightly, seeing the god you were facing off against was one who had been very persistent in his advances towards you, despite your multiple refusals.

-You appeared beside your partner, a hand on his shoulder as (Love) saw you there, his eyes lighting up, “Ahh Y/N- how lovely to see you. Please break the Volundr so you will not be at risk. I don’t wish to harm you, my love.”

-Your glare was icy and fierce, looking down your nose at him as if he was a piece of trash, “I am not your love, (Love), nor will I ever be. I’ve told you before- I’m not interested! But I’m happy to beat that into you.”

-Hades- Was surprised at your ferocity, showing your strength as a Valkyrie, but smiled up at you, “Then I shall prove myself to you so that you will finally accept me!” you rolled your eyes with a disgusted groan before your partner readied his weapon as you spoke, “Let’s do this!” Hades loved seeing you fight, seeing your determination, your drive, you were doing this to help humanity- what a soft heart you have- he wanted that beautiful heart just for himself, but there was only one person standing between you two, and you were determined to keep him safe. Hades did enjoy a good challenge.

-Hermes- You hid behind your partner, a look of disgust on your face as Hermes stared at you with hearts in his eyes, looking as if you hung the stars in the skies for him and him alone. He was one of your suitors that liked it when you talked down to him, finding it alluring, he wanted to serve you- he wanted to be your slave, and he was willing to give you everything, if you would only become his. Your partner lifted his double ended scythe, “I’ll keep you safe, Y/N!” Hermes instantly glared, looking darkly at your partner, seeing him as unworthy to be by your side- he needed to fix that.

-Poseidon- Your stubbornness was admirable, as he saw your constant rejections as a test, to make sure that he was really interested in you or if he would leave when the next beauty walked on by. He had proven himself to you multiple times, only wanting you- as only you were worthy enough to be his queen, however, you continued to refuse him, like you didn’t trust him! Poseidon believed himself a patient man, especially with you- but his patience was beginning to wane, finding your actions childish, and he wanted you to hurry up and just say yes! Seeing you touch another man, especially a human, Poseidon saw red, fury filling his veins. You were going to be his- he just needed to deal with this human you were with.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror hermes

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thefrontofmymind · 1 year

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Helping Hand (Matty Healy x Reader)

Requests:

hi! i just came across your blog and read both your matty works! if your requests are open could you write a friends to lovers with matty? maybe a confession with tension from not knowing the other’s feelings? –anon

Could you write a Matty Healy smut where he and the reader share an apartment as friends. Reader comes home pissed and Matty offers to ✨take care✨ of the reader for the night. Reader also has a praise kink – @kmsmedine

Prompt idea: “you know I can fuck you better, right?” With matty –anon

WARNINGS: piv unprotected smut, blowjob, a little bit of alcohol consumption (lmk if i missed anything)

The way you’d describe your life, in a word, would be bittersweet. You had your dream job, a great family, a gorgeous apartment, but there was one part that was missing, an important part–you lacked a connection, at least in a way that was satisfying.

You hated the idea that you were some kind of cliche–you had everything you ever wanted except a boyfriend, it sounded like some half-arsed romcom you’d find on DVD in some bargain bin at a Poundstretcher. Sure, you weren’t completely hopeless, you could get a shag if you felt so inclined, when you felt so inclined. But your heart was never in it. Because of one man, your closest friend in the whole universe–and roommate–Matty.

You’d spent years pining over him. From the moment you’d met him, you could feel your heart jump every time he’d look your way, and then crack and crumble when he’d look elsewhere. It wasn’t from lack of trying with him–the first year of your friendship you tried your damnedest to get him to notice you in the way you craved.

The nail in the coffin came with his first serious relationship–a lovely girl called Heather, or Hannah, or some name like that–you pushed the feelings to the very back of your mind as best you could, but they refused to stay quiet. You had many a crises over what to do. You loved Matty, more than a friend, and even more than a lover, he was your person and you couldn’t bear the thought of living without him, no matter how painful it would be to see him hold another’s hand, whisper in an ear that wasn’t your’s, see the way he smirk at other girls in clubs when they’d tell him what they wanted to do to him on the cab ride home–something you could never get the courage to do.

Though once you’d mourned the loss of what may have been, you realised what you did have, a man who knew you like the back of his own hand and would run to you the second he was beckoned, though just platonically.

Eventually you began to put yourself out there, started seeing other men–nothing serious ever came of any of them, but it was a distraction, nonetheless. You’d simply made your peace with the situation and resigned yourself to the fact that it would never change.

You figured you’d never get one of those looks from Matty that you’d seen made other girls’ knees wobble, and you’d certainly never get that close to him, and you’d simply have to make do with any distraction you could find, as hopelessly downcast it seemed..

It was late on Thursday night, very late. You weren’t home yet and it worried Matty–he knew you’d have left work almost an hour ago and you hadn’t let him know you were going anywhere afterwards–it was all very unlike you.

He sat in your shared living room on the sofa, laptop in front of him as he fiddled around with some demos that George had sent him, though he was immediately pulled out of it when he heard the front door slam shut and saw you huff as you walked to your bedroom. He quickly got up and followed you, concerned.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist then?” He asked you as he was greeted with the sight of you sat down on your bed, taking off your boots and eyes that were full of tears–a horrible side affect of being left with your thoughts on the walk home.

“I’m not in the mood for a joke, Matty,” you sighed, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” He was truly worried.

You took a second to collect your thoughts before you spoke. “Why is it that some guys just never learn, hey? Like they just do not care about the girls they’re fucking and don’t even try to give them attention?” Matty gave you a questioning look as he sat down next to you, seeing your wet eyes threatened to spill. “You remember that guy, Sam? The one I met at the work Christmas party last year?” Matty nodded. “Well, he asked me to go over to his after I got off work, and I went-uh-and he just doesn’t care.” You couldn’t stop the sob that came out as you finished your sentence. As if on instinct, Matty pulled you into his chest and let you cry, to which you had no protests. You had been building up for a while and it seemed you just couldn’t hold off the breaking point any longer.

“That’s so shit,” Matty said, holding you gently. “You deserve better than that.”

You sat in silence for a moment, you could smell the faint scent of weed and his regular cologne on Matty’s jumper.

You laughed. “Yeah, well it’s not like I really have any other prospects at the moment, so I’m just kinda stuck with Speedy Sam for now…”

Matty laughed with you for a second before his tone changed drastically. “C’mon, you’re a stunner! Surely you’ve got a lineup just waiting for ya?”

“No one else seems remotely interested…” You sighed. You knew it wasn’t productive to pity yourself the way you were, but you’d had a few glasses of wine at Sam’s so you couldn’t really help yourself.

“Well that’s just not true, now…” Matty muttered–under his breath but still loud enough that he knew you’d have heard it. You didn’t know how to answer him, you were simply gobsmacked–surely he didn’t mean what you thought he was hinting at? After all these years?

You tried to laugh it off, break the tension with some joke and asked Matty if there was any takeaway from the other night left in the fridge, but his face didn’t crack and he never broke eye contact, and that sobered you up really quick.

It felt like the earth had stopped turning and time had stopped ticking–it was just you and Matty at a stalemate in your apartment.

“Just something I thought about…” He mumbled as he got up and went back to the living room, leaving you wide-eyed and gobsmacked in your bedroom with a mind going a million miles a minute.

As if on autopilot, your legs carried you to the living room, standing right in front of Matty–who was ever-so unbothered and scrolling on his laptop. You didn’t quite know what to say, so you stood with wide eyes fixed right on him as you mulled over how you could ever respond in this situation.

“Can I help you?” He said, as if he didn’t drop a bomb on you merely a minute ago.

“You can’t just say that to me,” you said with a deadly serious tone that even took you by surprise.

Matty closed his laptop and stood up so you were eye-to eye. “I only said it because it was true.”

“Wha-” You couldn’t speak, all the air in your throat felt trapped, you couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening.

“You know I can fuck you better, right?” He said, without a microgram of hesitation nor taunting in voice, while his eyes stayed unwavering and staring into yours. “Better than that dickhead and any other guy you’ve been with since I’ve known you.”

You could barely stutter out an answer, you knew what you wanted to say–you had fantasies of a proposition like this from Matty for years, you’d resigned yourself that it would never happen and that was just something you had to make peace with. You needed to tell him, and now.

“Then prove it,” you said, a small waver in your tone, showing the sliver of trepidation.

Matty’s thumb lightly rubbed the side of your cheek, not breaking eye contact. “Can I kiss you?”

“I think you should,” you answered, feeling so much anxiety at this newfound revelation in your best friend and roommate.

His lips were ever-so soft against yours, giving you the chance to pull away, should you want to, but you didn’t. Without thinking, you grabbed the fabric of the collar of the hoodie he was wearing and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. You couldn’t quite process what was happening, your mind felt like mush as you lightly bit on his bottom lip, earning a stifled moan from Matty. You eventually had to break the kiss to get a proper breath in, as much as you wish you didn’t have to. You stayed close–nose-to-nose–as you caught your breaths.

“So your room or mine?” He asked.

You pulled him back to your mouth, this time with a bit more ferocity, and your hands quickly found their way to his hair as he grabbed at your waist. You both managed to stumble to your room–the closer one–without breaking the kiss. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be doing, and you were just glad it was finally happening, not just in your mind when you were alone and bored.

Matty quickly pulled away to take off his hoodie, while you rid yourself of the sweaty and dishevelled blouse you’d worn to work that day. Before you knew it, you’d gotten completely bare in front of him–you weren’t scared or worried or insecure, it was Matty, he knew you, so there was nothing for you to be afraid of, nor him.

He sat on your bed before you, you didn’t quite know how to proceed. You’d been through so many scenarios like this in your head, you were overwhelmed.

“C’mere, darling,” he said, holding out a hand to take yours and guiding you to straddle him–it all felt much more sincere and…intimate…than before–you finally realised this was real and it was happening.

Matty locked his arms around your waist as you began to kiss down his neck and into the crook of his shoulder, eliciting a breathy moan from the top of his throat. His hands began to wander down your back and he took grip of your ass cheeks as he kissed you again.

Your hands soon found their way to his cock, slowly giving it a couple of strokes before you readjusted so you could press a warm kiss to its head.

Matty’s head was spinning, never did he think he would ever have a chance with you, in the years of your friendship. He was simply too scared to say anything, and it got to a point that he’d come to the conclusion that he’d left that grace period of early-friendship confusion well in the past and there was nothing he could do about it, so he tried to move on–girlfriend after girlfriend, with as many pointless hook ups in between, but they all weren’t you. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him in the face for what he said; he’d had a couple glasses of wine and it went straight to his head, giving him the confidence to do what he truly wanted to in the first place.

Matty sunk into a sea of ecstasy as your lips closed around him and his cock inched further and further into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat.

“Oh darling,” he barely managed to stutter out between moans as he gently grabbed a handful of your hair and your tongue swirled around his tip. “Ple-please just let me fuck you.”

“I think you should.” You said as Your mouth was replaced by your hand and you looked at his face to answer him–his lips parted and eyes almost completely shut from pleasure. You weren’t sure where the sudden confidence you exuded came from, but you were sure glad it appeared when it did.

Soon enough, you were once again straddling Matty’s lap, his cock rubbing against your entrance–you felt like your head was just about ready to explode from the anticipation.

“Are you ready, baby?” Matty whispered, leaving a trail of kisses from your ear to the crook of your shoulder. You couldn’t find the words to speak, so you let out a hum and a fervent nod, and that was enough for him.

You felt so full as each inch of him entered you, leaving you a moaning mess immediately. Matty was in a similar state, breathing deeply and trying to blink away the stars in his vision of you. You began to move, just a little, which made the pleasure increase tenfold–leaving you twitching and whining every time Matty hit your g-spot. He took hold of your hips, helping you bounce on his cock.

“So…so good…So good fo’ me…” he moaned, leaving you smiling to yourself.

As time went on, your legs began to grow tired, and Matty noticed as your movements slowed.

“Want me to be on top?” He asked in between feverish kisses wherever he could place them.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “M’legs are getting sore.”

After some readjustment, Matty was now hovering above you, while one of your legs wrapped around his hip to keep him close. His thrusts were slower than you were expecting–going as deep as he could get. One of his hands was holding himself up from next to your head, while the other found its way to your clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on to the swollen bud.

It all just felt so comfortable, so natural–not at all like a first fuck, the two of you moved so in sync with each other, you’d think you’d been together for years with just how responsive you were to each other.

You felt your lungs get tighter as your breathing got shallower, and a tension began to grow between your thighs. You urged Matty to go faster, to which he obliged with a smirk that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

All at once, everything let go, and you were sent into orbit as you released–all the while moaning and whining which only spurred Matty on more, soon reaching his release as well before collapsing on top of you, fully spent.

The two of you laid there on your bed in silence for a little while, Matty’s softening cock still inside you. There was something so intimate about the whole situation, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his face as he caught his breath with a small grin on his face. You noticed freckles on his nose, faint lines around his eyes, things you’d never had the chance, nor the right before this, to see.

Eventually, Matty moved to face you before speaking. “That was…” He um’d and ah’d for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It was everything I’ve ever hoped it was.”

“Really?” You never thought of Matty hoping something would happen, and what it would be like.

“And more,” he added, kissing you again while you chuckled in the afterglow. You both began to drift into the lull of sleep in each other’s arms. “And I never want to hear about Speedy Sam again…”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut

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epictacobird · 1 year

Text

Dorms and their reactions to Demon Slayer!Yuu

Warnings: dark themes, ptsd mentioned, angsty content ahead, hurt + comfort, spoilers for book 1 of twst

No I will not stop talking about this please I need content and I’m a slut for crossovers. This is meant to be platonic but if you envision somethin else idc

No gendered pronouns to refer to mc/Yuu, only “you”

Heartslabyul (here)- Savanaclaw - Octavinelle - Scarabia - Pomefiore - Ignihyde - Diasomnia

Context:

You’re a demon slayer, an extremely experienced one at that. You have been fighting demons ever since you were young, and preparing to do so even younger. When you were unexpectedly thrown into Twisted Wonderland and admitted to NRC, you hid your sword in your uniform, and stashed away your clothes once you could. You figured the best way to survive here was to hide your cards. After all, being surrounded by morally questionable strangers with magic was not ideal. In the case you really needed it, you figured it was best to pretend to be weak so you’re strength can cover you when you need it most.

Now that a few months have passed and you’ve gained reliable friends, you didn’t see a point anymore. You felt safer than you ever have in you’re entire life. You were no longer on a battlefield, no longer surrounded by the pained cries of the people you failed to save. But the battle was catching up to you. Now that you were no longer fighting constantly, you had more time to think. You’re nightmares of battle have been getting worse and you can’t escape it. The guilt of hiding such an integral part of yourself from your friends wasn’t helping either. Eventually though, you let the dam break. You tell them about you’re life, the reason behind your scars and show them your sword. There’s tears in your eyes and you’re shaking like the child you once were long ago.

Riddle

When you first entered NRC he was taken aback by you’re clothing, even more so with you’re visible scars and toughened look.

Even before you became friends he took note of the look in you’re eyes. He felt uneasy, it did not give the impression a normal teenagers eyes would. Whenever he caught you alone in the hallways you would always hold that deadened gaze, even if it was paired with a pleasant smile.

It was during his overblot when he saw the look in your eyes change. You’re dead eyes turned wide with fear and worry. But not at him, rather for him. When he woke up after, he could’ve sworn you were in the edge of tears. Later you would tell him you were just worried for his safety, which was true. (Although only you would know why your fear ran so deep)

he thought of you as a very tough, resilient and brave individual, a view that continued as long as he knew you. So imagine his surprise when he accidentally walked in on you crying.

He felt something was wrong for a while, although today was especially bad. You were tense, jumpier, and had dark circles around your eyes that only got worse. It all went down when he came over to Ramshackle for a study session. You had forgotten all about it, having scheduled it a week earlier. Currently you were holding a trinket from a loved one you had lost to a demon and were bawling your eyes out.

In the heat of your mourning, you didn’t hear Riddle come in or walk up the stairs to your room. Despite all your training, your senses failed you even when Riddle knocked on the door.

He heard you and warning bells went off in his head, after how you were acting all week he decided he couldn’t ignore it anymore and opened the door.

He called out you’re name in the softest voice, his brows furrowed. He didn’t know what to do or what was going on, having not been comforted much growing up meant he was a little lost.

Your head snapped up, and Riddle stumbled seeing you’re face.

Your eyes were bloodshot and heavy, as if it held all the sorrow in the world and it just couldn’t contain it. You’re lip was nearly gnawed through from the way you were trying to stifle you’re cries.

At first he thought you were just homesick with the way you clutched the trinket in your hands. But he came to realize he was very wrong.

A demon slayer? You really witnessed all that death that young?

And oh god your scars. They ran all over your body. Claw marks, blades, burns, tears, bruises, they littered your body. He was sickened by all the near death experiences you had. The most he felt he could do was sit by you and listen to your story. He’s holding your hand, looking at you, gently motioning you to continue.

Truthfully his view of you doesn’t change. He’s impressed by your skills, your selflessness, and your determination. In the end, he researches ways he could help you. You were suffering, and you trusted him enough with all of this. The least he could do was to support you.

He hugs you so tightly, even though he was never really big on physical touch. Just this once, how could not? He gives such a gentle smile, “I promise to help any way I can, Prefect. Please, rely on me. You’ve done so much already.”

Trey

Being extremely observant, he knew that you didn’t lead a normal life.

The first instance was when you were making the tart for Riddle. He walked over to give you some pointers as you worked on the chestnuts. He didn’t show it, but he was surprised by your hands. They were thick and calloused, with small scars all over.

He didn’t think much of it, he was just under the impression you must have worked outside or in carpentry back home.

That is, until Riddle’s overblot.

You were calm, too calm for someone who apparently was never in a life or death situation. Not to mention your strategies, but maybe you were just intelligent.

You were magicless, a completely normal human, yet you deflected and dodged every attack. No one really noticed, as you were off to the side, except for him.

Truthfully, he didn’t have much evidence other than that. Just that he felt something was innately wrong. There was something in the way you carried yourself, the way you’re body tensed at any sound at night, the way your eyes glazed over and fell into void when you thought no one was looking.

It was when you came over to help him bake something did he have to guts to ask.

You were chopping up fruit with impressive skill, something that came in handy whenever he had to prepare a large amount of treats for an unbirthday party. You enjoyed the time with him, after all, you were allowed to take some home for yourself if there was extra.

“What did you do back home?”

You paused, the knife hovering over the apples you were slicing. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” He trailed off, trying to find the words, “I guess I’m just curious is all.”

You continued to cut through the fruit, the tension never releasing from your shoulders. “Ah, well I never really had much of an education. I started working pretty early, I…erm…” You stumbled, trying to think up of an excuse, “I worked as a farmer.”

Trey frowned, knowing damn well you lied. But he took it, figuring you must’ve had a good reason to. You were normally so honest, (too honest for Adeuce and grim’s liking) so you must’ve felt it necessary.

But what he didn’t know was the guilt gnawing at you. It was a dirty lie, a meaningless one even. You told yourself you didn’t want to ruin the happy mood but that was a lie too.

As Trey put the desserts in the oven and set the timers you fumbled with your apron. You spoke as steadily as your voice allowed, “Trey, I lied earlier. I’m not a farmer, it’s just the real answer isn’t a happy one. I didn’t want to scare you, I’m sorry.”

He turned around with a soft smile, and nodded for you to continue.

And so you did, with the both of you seated on the stools you recounted your life. Truth be told, Trey was just as horrified as Riddle. But he kept a straight face best he could and let you talk. He watched as the tension leave your shoulders as the weight above you finally dropped.

It was then Trey really got a good look at you. The scars that trailed just above the collar and cuffs of your shirt and the dark circles under your eyes. You just looked so tired.

“Thank you for telling me.” He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in gently. He was near tears himself, he couldn’t imagine someone his little sibling’s age witnessing all of that.

“I’ll take care of the rest, Prefect. Why don’t you stay here at Heartslabyul? I want to make sure you get a good nights’ rest.”

Cater

Like Ace and Deuce, he didn’t notice anything either. And if he did, he never pried. Out of everyone he understood the most about wanting to keep parts of your identity hidden.

Although he was initially weirded out by the way you reacted to his phone. It was like you were from a hundred years ago or something. In the end he did teach you how to use it, which you were forever grateful for now that you were living in a modern world.

You were a hard worker, he’ll give you that. You never let being magicless stop you from doing anything. When he tricked asked you to help him paint the roses, he noticed the pride you took in your work.

A lot of your interactions after Riddle’s overblot was him teaching you how to navigate social media. Especially when he realized how fucking ripped you are. He asked you to hold him up once for a pic and the amount of likes you got was insane.

Sure, you didn’t understand half of what he was saying but you liked his enthusiasm! It was nice to have a friend like him, someone that made you feel normal. Like with Adeuce, his fast paced nature let you forget about your past.

Of course, you couldn’t keep it a secret forever. Cater wanted to go shopping and dress you up so you could have matching outfits for magicam, and it was getting harder to avoid. After all, an outfit that showed more skin than the uniform meant he would see your scars front and center.

But that’s not how he found out, rather it was during a movie night y’all had at Heartslabyul.

You bunked with Cater for the night since he didn’t have a roommate and besides, it was fun to have a sleepover with your newfound bestie.

You struggled falling asleep, and when you did your nightmares came back full swing.

You woke up screaming, Cater had shaken you awake and he was terrified.

“Hey! Hey! It’s alright! Calm down Prefect, it was just a dream. Breathe alright?”

He explained that you were crying in your sleep, mumbling incoherent things with such fear that he had to wake you up. You really scared him.

When he asked you about your nightmare, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie. I mean, here he was, at your side with eyes wide and hands clasped to yours. If you lied to him now, could you really call each other friends?

So you told him, initially he thought that it must’ve been a crazy nightmare from a horror movie. But you explained that it was real, although the events were dramatized in your dream.

He was at a loss for words, all your odd little actions clicked into place. Of course you didn’t understand technology and hated when he walked around at night.

But he understood, bringing you into a hug and let you cry into his shoulder. You felt so small, fragile even. Nothing like before. In this moment you weren’t the strong and confident Ramshackle Prefect; rather a hurt child that couldn’t bear their burden any longer.

“Hey, why don’t we go to that one cafe by the beach tomorrow? It’ll be my treat, you’ve been wanting to go there for a while right?”

He held you tighter, he wasn’t a soldier or a fighter by any means, but he was a friend. He wanted to cheer you up, he couldn’t bear to see you like this.

“Oh you know what? Why don’t we finally go on that shopping trip you owe me. I’ll let you choose the fit though.”

Ace + Deuce

They absolutely walked in on you changing.

They were about to do something stupid, in fact they already have and we’re looking to you to help them out of it.

Deuce, the gentleman, was about to knock on your door to see if you were there.

Ace over here didn’t think twice about running to your room and kicking the door open. Deuce immediately protested, leading you to whip around with your shirt just over your head.

Your torso was showing, which of course was where the ugliest scars were.

Deuce yelled an apology and yanked Ace back, slamming the door shut. Both of them had seen it, and both had eyes as wide as saucers with a million thoughts running through their pea brains.

Initially, both of them thought you must’ve been some crazy thug or trouble maker to earn those scars. But the more they thought back on it, if you were just a troublemaker why did you have giant claw marks? Burns that bad surely couldn’t have come from just a few street fights.

They waited in the lounge for you to come down. For once they were quiet, and gave you their full attention when you walked in.

Tbh Deuce was wondering if you were in a gang. It would explain a lot about the scars. He never said it but he was a little hurt you would hide that from him since he came from similar circumstances.

Ace thought you finally had enough of him when you walked in holding a sword. Literally why would you scare him like that

You sighed and sat down on the decrepit couch. “Alright, I’ll answer your questions as honestly as I can. It’s the least I can do after hiding this for so long.”

Chaos

One question was shot one after the other, “What happened?!” “Were you in a gang?!” “Did you kill someone??!” “Why the sword?”

In the end you managed to shut them up and tell them everything. Honestly I don’t think they would’ve noticed your strange behavior at first. You were always cheery around them, sure you had your moments but no one at this school was normal.

Ace is a little salty you didn’t help more when they were fighting the overblot monster from the mines. You telling him you could’ve oneshot that guy while they were running around all crazy? Fake friends man

His attitude changes though when you answered Deuce’s questions about a specific scar he saw on your back. It was thick, running all the way down to your lower back. It twisted the skin in a way that showed how deep it ran.

You explained that that wound nearly killed you. Despite pushing through it, it weakened you severely. It marked one of the greatest failures of your career as a slayer. The result was a massacre of citizens and your teammates.

The air changed after that. For once, Ace and Deuce saw you at your weakest as you recounted the battle. The magicless Prefect, the human who faced dangerous overblots without a batting an eye, was shaking with tear filled eyes as they clutched their sword.

They were at a loss at what to do. This was a first, seeing you like this. In the end, they settled on cheering you up. They knew how much your past haunted you but you were at NRC now! Demons don’t exist here, and you gave everything to save those people. You couldn’t wallow forever, but you couldn’t help that. So as your friends, they’d support you as best they can.

“That’s actually pretty badass, I mean you got all these crazy stories.” Ace complimented.

“Yeah, no wonder you’ve made it though all those overblots. Just how strong are you?” Deuce followed up.

You sighed in relief, at least they weren’t freaked out or anything. You were finally able to relax into the couch with a small smile dancing on your lips.

“Can I use your sword?”

“No” 😐

“By the way, Grim is stuck in a tree. He’s hiding from Floyd after we pissed him off.”

*****

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saylor-twift · 5 months

Note

alright, so first off. This is my first time doing a req to a creator/author/writer I admire so much so hopefully I won't cause any confusion— ">-< but could you uhh do a wanderer x reader unrequited love? (eg: wanderer prefers someone over reader) I really want more angst to read and also with this topic. You don't have to take this request if you're not comfortable!

(❄️. SHON)

Yes yes I can!! This is such a coincidence cause I just recently made a very similar request to one of my mutuals haha. Recently I’ve lowkey had this brain rot of Wanderer having feelings for the traveler (Lumine) because i’ve been reading so much Scaralumi lmfao and it lowkey makes me kinda salty even tho i love them to death so that’s kinda the direction this will take :) Thanks so much for asking!!

side note: I’m so fking angry i literally had this whole thing proofread and totally ready like an hour and a half ago when my tumblr fucking shuts down and deletes all my work and I had already deleted it off the google doc so I could paste the version from tumblr so i had to go restore the google doc and ughhh it caused me an extra hour of work cause i had to proofread everything again. anyways, please enjoy :)

Live is to Love, as Love is to Hurt

word count: 6801

also heads up for anyone who doesn’t know, I like to refer to Wanderer as Kunimitsu cause that’s the name I gave him :)

Everyone knows, or should know at least, that when one decides to accept something, anything, that they are also agreeing to take on each and every single thing that comes with it. To look forward to the rebirth of spring means also accepting that the barren, frosty breath of winter will indeed return, turning the once lush gardens of the world into sharp, jagged blades of grass and trees devoid of green. The same is true when you decide to accept somebody into your life. You must know that no matter how benevolent and perfect to you they may seem, fate has its mishaps, and doesn’t always play a fair game. And yet there’s one more thing, one might think after learning all these things that the way they will be better off is to never take risks. And supposedly yes, maybe you won’t get hurt, but you also won’t live. Because to live is to love, to live is to hurt, to live is to heal.

This current chapter of life feels strikingly similar to one of those slice of life novels you’d expect to find at the bookstore on the corner of the street. Only it wasn’t something you read whilst sipping tea on a sunday afternoon, it’s more like the type of heart-breaking piece of literature you finish late on friday nights, the kind that leaves you restless and contemplating the rest of the weekend. Or in this case, the rest of the month. And instead of seeing yourself in the life of the main character and mourning for them as if they were your own, the one who hurts is you, and it feels like nobody from the sidelines is mourning on your behalf. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of times you’ve mentally punched yourself for being this distraught, doesn’t everybody experience heartbreak at least once in their life? Maybe they do, but not everyone feels it this hard. Not everyone devotes every single inch of love in their hearts towards one singular person, only to have it blown out like the candles on a birthday cake, because the candles of the one you love burn for somebody who isn’t you.

And maybe if you were younger, if you were less understanding, if you had less control… you would be vengeful, heart full of nothing but envy for the lovely woman whose presence has his full attention. But you’re not, because you’ve grown. You’re older, you’re wiser, you understand. You understand the kind of pain such a mindset would inflict not only on the people around you, but also yourself. It’s truly hard to feel hate for that beautiful woman. She’s ever so kind, and strong, and beautiful and perfect and everything you’ve somehow convinced yourself that you’re not. She’s never wronged you, it’s not her fault. Truthfully, it’s not anyone’s fault. But that won’t change the fact that it hurts. In fact, it maims your very soul more than any pain you could have felt before. Most people would wonder why you even felt for him in the first place if they knew the history the two of you had. Yet the answer comes clear as day. To feel such comfort around him is something that rarely comes from other people. You know you can speak your mind on a bad day without scaring him off, and he knows, you hope he knows, that you’d put up with and listen to him as much as he needed as well. You love the way you always have to stifle a laugh whenever he makes an inappropriate comment, or how he’s unafraid to let you know when you’re wrong. How he always has to ponder the mysteries of the world at such a deep level, never taking things at face-value. And how he always hears you out from your perspective, never making you feel crazy or out of place for your seemingly otherworldly ideas.

Maybe it irked you at first, his insouciant and immature behavior, but it’s difficult to keep lying to yourself when really you knew deep down how endearing it felt, to have someone close enough to share such experiences with. And yet, through all of this, it seemed you had read him all wrong. This was the first time you had ever loved someone this deeply, let alone loved at all. People these days, especially young people, seem to lack the mental complexities you’d prefer in a partner. You wanted someone you could love and understand, not just some accessory at the hip to just brag and boast about. Even with all the times he’d berated you with insults and poked fun at your mishaps, he still possessed a sort of depth to his mentality, the kind that honestly made you fawn over the way you could hold meaningful conversations without feeling like you didn’t belong. If you recall correctly, he did mention once that he wasn’t a fan of small talk. Maybe that was just the way he was, or maybe it came as a result of his seemingly never ending history of trauma. (it made your heart clench just thinking about it, but you rarely brought it up. You knew all too well he wasn’t fond of the subject)

It only made sense he managed to snatch your heart right up into an unbreakable death grip. You were in love with him, for sure and certain. And it was likely that undying inferno, clouding your correct judgment in a cloud of smoke and ash, that led you to be here in this scene, the very moment that truly broke your heart, for the very first time.

You’d seen him with the girl a number of times, and to be fair, neither of them had ever confirmed any affection for the other, so perhaps you were just overthinking it all. Maybe to think such things would only be setting yourself up for disappointment, but for now, that could be left to the future. Maybe, if you were to get over your fears and doubts for just a moment, you would tell him. Maybe plan something for just the two of you, like they do in those cheap romance novels, and over a glass of zaytun peach lemonade, you look him in the eyes and say, “I love you.” And he would reply with, “Yes, so do I.” And the day would end however the author of said cheap romance novel sees fit.

And so you decide to do exactly that.

You find yourself sitting in immense regret as you wait outside the doors to the Akedemiya, anxiously picking at the cuticle of one of your nails as the unforgiving sun beats down on the back of your head. You’ll likely never fully get used to Sumeru’s weather. Typically at this time of the week, he attends the usual Vahumana lecture, begrudgingly of course. That was one of the things he was fond of complaining to you about, specifically the professor, whom he described as a “sulking old wench on the verge of death.” Maybe the description was a little much, but it elicited little giggles out of you nonetheless. And as the clock hits two in the afternoon, your anticipation only increases as you watch the door open and close, pairs of students leaving in intervals. You instantly perk up as you see his slender figure push its way out from the large wooden doors, making a beeline directly away from where everyone else was heading. Caught up in simply admiring him as he strolls away, lost in a daze, you suddenly snap out of your daydream as the realization hits you that he’s the reason you’re here. If he gets away, you’ll lose your chance.

With one last quick, deep breath of reassurance, you jog up to his side before he’s too far away, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Hey, hold on!” You call out, cheeks instantly redding as he cocks his head in your direction with a (thankfully) only mildly annoyed expression. Having a crush is so much more mortifying than you would have ever anticipated. “Hey-“

“What?” He interrupts, clearly already exasperated with whatever antics he thinks you intend to throw his way. “How was school?” You inquire, jogging up to his side again as he quickens his pace out of annoyance. “Don’t ask questions like that, I’m not your child.”

“Fine, my fault for wanting to know how you’re doing. I have a request for you.” You press on, not wanting to waste much time with his brashness. “I’m going to decline.” He insists. “No, you won’t. Well, maybe you will. But i’m politely requesting that you accept.”

“Well, you have to tell me what it even is first, no?”

You mentally roll your eyes. He always had to be like this, didn’t he? “I’m getting there. I was, um.. wondering if you were going to be busy this afternoon?” You question, cringing at the way the words failed to come out as smoothly as you had originally intended. He scoffs at this, followed by a laugh. “You’re hilarious. What do you actually want from me?”

“..what do you mean? I’m asking if you have any plans for the rest of today.”

“Why? Is Kusanali being overly dependent on her little errand boy again? I would’ve thought she would tell me herself, not send some messenger.”

This causes you to cringe. Despite the immense progress he’s made, he still can’t comprehend the fact that there are people who actually care for him and don’t see him as just some sort of a tool. “Oh come on, is that really the conclusion you’re going to jump to?” You ask with a hand on your hip. “What other reasons could you possibly have for seeking me out? Don’t tell me you actually want to spend time with me?” He quirks an eyebrow in amusement as he crosses his arms. He enjoys messing with you, he really does. “And what if I do?” You respond with an equally smug expression, seemingly forgetting about your previous nervousness and relishing in the fact that you can lightheartedly tease each other like this. “Then I’d tell you that you’re a fool. I don’t see any possible way you could benefit from being around me.”

“Why do you do this? Is it really so difficult to imagine that people enjoy being around you? Haven’t you spent enough time around me to know I’m not joking?”

He sighs, half in exasperation and half in defeat. “So you’re really saying you came all the way out here because you want to waste your afternoon on me? If I agree to whatever escapade you have planned, will you leave me alone then?” His voice is only slightly, but definitely noticeably softer than it was before. “I wouldn’t call it a waste. Please give yourself some credit.” You insist. “Fine, I’ll indulge you this once. But I better not hear any more of this.” He says, only mildly displeased. You smile madly to yourself, biting a lip as you fight to contain yourself, at least for the time required to form your next sentence. “Okay well, I’m not letting you back out now. Can we agree to meet somewhere then?”

“..if you insist.”

And not much longer after that, the two of you had agreed to meet a few hours later in the evening outside of the Grand Bazaar. Zubayr Theater had planned that day to host a small festival in honor of what Nilou liked to call it’s “grand reopening”. Following recent events, the matra of the Akedemiya had decided to lay back on some of their laws and views regarding the arts, meaning that the theater was free to perform as openly as it liked, with some rules, of course. Needless to say, Nilou was absolutely ecstatic. She’d choreographed a whole show solely for the sake of reopening, and the streets of Sumeru City were plastered with all of the posters and flyers. Not only were you more than happy to come and support your good friend and her passions, you were also quite fond of the arts and always enjoyed a good performance. Not to mention it made a decent first date spot for two aspiring lovers. (“Date” was a strong word, and you were fully aware of the fact that a date was not what this was. Nonetheless, you couldn’t help but daydream about such things.)

You’d graciously purchased a ticket for yourself as well as for him, much to his surprise. “And what if I hadn’t decided to show up? What would you do with your wasted money then?” He quirks as the two of you walk inside the theater, breathing in the scent of spices mixed with floral perfumes. “Well you’re here aren’t you? That means I don’t have to worry about that. But if for some crazy reason you did decide to ditch me, I’d just find some lucky unsuspecting stranger who’d appreciate a theater ticket much more.” You reply. “Of course you would. Always so generous.” He quips, not lacking his usual sarcasm. “Well what would you rather I do with it?” You question curiously. He scoffs. “That's not what I meant, your answer was fine. I’m just saying it’s so very like you.”

“Whatever, just come on. I think you might actually enjoy this, Nilou is very talented!” You chirp, skipping ahead to the doors of the auditorium, your enthusiasm showing right through. In truth, you had decided to bring him to a quiet place such as a theater as an excuse to not have to make too much conversation with him. The long performances would give you plenty of time to come up with what you were going to say once the time came. As guilty as it made you feel, you really only paid a fraction of attention to the lovely performance as your thoughts were lost elsewhere. It was finally beginning to dawn on you how anxious you really were, and a pool of regret starts forming in your chest as your mind conjures up all of the worst possible scenarios. He’s not exactly known for being the most compassionate person, so fear of rejection was only worse in this case. Would he ridicule you, or would he simply spit venom in your face like there’s no tomorrow? Either way, whether this night would turn out for the worse or for the better, you were too far in to turn back now. At least, that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

He didn’t seem to have much to say himself either, only making a snide remark as the curtains opened and remaining mostly silent for the rest of the performance. You’d almost say he was enamored with the dancers, watching them with a lovely sort of infatuation, almost as if he was also lost in his own little world. You find yourself continuously sneaking glances at him, whether to try and catch some sort of emotion on his face or simply just to look at him, you weren’t entirely sure. If he notices your constant little glances, he makes no comment. With a final flourish of sounds, music and lights that snaps you out of your anxiety-filled little daze, you zone back into the stage as the audience roars with applause and the curtains slowly come to a close. You breath in deep for your nose, realizing that you can no longer hide in the darkness and music of the theater. And for the first time since the beginning of the whole show, he speaks up. “You know, I might have doubted you a bit too much. It would be a lie to say that wasn’t a little enjoyable. You’re right, that girl does have some talent.”

Taking a minute to actually process that he was speaking to you, you blink a couple of times before turning to face him. “O-oh! See? I told you. Are you realizing now that you don’t always have to be so pessimistic?” He quirks an eyebrow at the way you appear to be so startled, but chooses to make no mention of it. “I hate to break it to you, but one night of little dance performances isn’t going to change my philosophy, no matter how much you want it to.” He chuckles as the two of you start to filter out with the rest of the crowd. “Maybe not tonight, but I bet one day I will.”

“Mhm. Good luck with that.”

By the time you exit the theater, the sun has almost completely gone down, only casting the city in the faintest remnants of orange and yellows. The ambience of the night can only be described as tranquil with the way it bathes the buildings in its warm purples and cooler blues. It fits him so well, you think. So well, you don’t even realize you’re staring. The moonlight illuminates the carefully sculpted features of his face, making him appear as if he were straight from one of the paintings of the masters. The artist clearly has a steady hand, with each brush stroke being carefully placed to exact precision, the colors fading into each other absolutely beautifully. It truly is a once in a lifetime experience to get the chance to lay eyes on somebody this breathtaking. You’re a sight for eyes, Kunimitsu. Are the words your brain decides to conjure up following this butterfly-inducing observation. But of course, such moments can only live so long as he decides to cut you off with a rather embarrassing reality check. “You’re staring. Something you want to say?”

The blush attacks your cheeks faster than you can even blink, eyes widening for but a moment. You’ve been caught red handed, nothing you can do about that. Instead of averting your gaze in shyness, you grasp tightly to that little sliver of confidence left from the beginning of this whole endeavor, using it as assistance for crafting your next words. “Hmm.. maybe there is.” The words fall out flawlessly, gaze never leaving his. And then there it is again, that familiar feeling of teeny tiny butterflies making themselves at home in the pit of your stomach with the way his eyes meet yours. “Then I think we should go find a place to sit. There’s… actually something I’ve been meaning to discuss with you as well.” He replies, with him being the one to break eye contact instead of you. If you strain your ears just hard enough, you swear he sounds uncharacteristically softer than usual, and you instantly wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are. And with the way he immediately follows by tilting his hat down to cover his expression and quickens his pace, he has to be, you think. “Good. I wanted a drink, anyway.”

You imagine yourself being patted on the shoulder reassuringly, it’s truly now or never. You’re by yourself again, waiting in a surprisingly short line for lemonade. Disappointingly, the clearly under-staffed lemonade stand had quickly run out of many of the good flavors, including your favorite, zaytun peach. Deciding not to let it get you down, you settle on two glasses of plain lemonade, figuring that the Wanderer would prefer that kind anyway. You still hadn’t figured out what his deal was when it came to food. He didn’t seem like a picky eater, but he always grimaced anytime anyone made a comment regarding anything gooey and sweet. You hadn’t quite figured out if he hated all sweet things, or if it was just sweet things that also happened to be sticky… but no matter, if the citrus drink happened to not be to his liking, that was the least important concern on your mind at the moment. With annoyingly shaky hands and an increased heart rate, you take the two cool glasses of lemonade and make your way over to where your companion has already claimed a spot at a table, shaded and secluded away from the rest of the festival-goers.

You set the cups down, which he barely even acknowledges. Neither do you, practically forgetting about their entire existence the moment your legs hit the smooth wooden structure of the chair. He shifts in his seat, almost uncomfortably, you note, turning to face you. Much to your chagrin, he decides not to say anything, leaving the two of you in a dreadfully uncomfortable silence. “So-“

“You wanted to tell me something?” You interrupt. Truly you weren’t sure why, though it was most likely because you were trying to find some last minute way to further procrastinate your confession. He pauses for a moment, before inhaling sharply, followed by an unnecessarily long exhale. “I… suppose I do. I’ve given this quite a bit of thought, and I’ve decided that despite the way you annoy me and your persistent show of naivety, I still think you’d have a good outlook on my predicament.” Usually when he makes quips like this, you’d playfully roll your eyes, followed by a witty retort of your own. But it seems that at this point into the night, you’ve already spent up all your previously prepared confidence. Your hands are under the table, one finger working nonstop at picking a loose cuticle, already turning pink and uncomfortable and raw from the friction. “I’ll… try my best. What exactly is it?” Your voice comes out smaller than intended, and you wonder if he can sense your anticipation.

He makes an ‘ugh’ sound as his head drops forward, the bridge of his nose coming to land directly in between his pointer and thumb. “I just… I’m conflicted. I don’t…” This causes you to furrow your brows together at his odd display of vulnerability. It seems he’s at a loss for words, the first time you’ve ever witnessed such a thing. “About… what?” You query, clasping your hands together underneath the table. He squeezes his eyes shut and a forced exhale leaves his nose, and it’s the first time you think you’ve ever seen him willingly show that much emotion around you. “I’ve been… trying to come to terms with something as of late. And I’m just not understanding how all you mortals endure these kinds of things every day, it’s honestly appalling.” He lifts his head up from between his fingers, looking at you concernedly, as if he really was being honest about how he felt. “Okay, well first of all, I doubt that you actually feel things any less than the ordinary human, you just like to hide it. Second, what is it that’s bothering you even? You’re concerning me.” You comment. He scoffs. “The amount I feel is not the point. I am incredibly disturbed by this, and you are the only person I feel can advise me on what to do. You’re quite the expert on emotions, after all.”

You’re not quite sure whether he’s giving you a compliment or calling you emotional, but it didn’t matter. The fact that he’s even coming to you about something that clearly means so much to him hints at the fact that there might be some greater feeling lingering behind all of this. You’re about to open your mouth to ask once again what he means by all this, but he beats you to it, and you swear you see the apples of his cheeks turn a dusty rose color. “I keep having this reoccurring thought, about a person… that I may hold some sort of fondness for..”

Your breath hitches. This whole time your well-thought out (more like impulsive, but you digress) plan was to get him alone so that you would have to work up the courage on your own to confess to him. But now, was he going to do it for you? Would you be getting the happy ending you’d daydreamed about for so long? You zone out for the better part of his speech, attention only coming back for the last few words.

“…your friend, actually. You know, the one with the (color) hair? Surely you’ve noticed? That’s why I’m telling you, you’re the only one I feel even remotely comfortable with giving this information.”

What.

With those words, you swear you could literally feel your face turn white . Could you perhaps have misheard? Is he alluding to something else? It’s almost like you’re in denial. The only physical reaction this confession seems to get out of you is a blank stare, while your mind on the other hand is practically on a wild rampage. The man you love more than anything, more than life, more than the sun, more than yourself, sitting in front of you, telling you directly to your face that his heart belongs to somebody whose name is not yours. Whose whole persona you wish so dearly could be your own. And the audacity to ask for advice on what to do was really just the cherry on top. You feel absolutely mortified, like there’s a sizzling flame, a light in your stomach making you feel like you’d vomit the entirety of your organs at any given moment. He couldn’t possibly be lying either, with the way his whole demeanor seems to change to a completely different person when he speaks about her. He seems so oddly vulnerable telling you about how he feels. At the very least, he trusts you more than most to be so willingly sharing his thoughts with you. That’s something, at least.

After a short moment too long of silence, you blink away your surprise, putting on a soft expression that reads ‘congratulations, I’m so happy for you’ despite the ache forming in your heart. “Ah, is that so? You know, I think it’s great you’re allowing yourself this. She’s a beautiful girl, I’m sure she loves you just as much.” Gods, that hurt more than anything else you’ve ever had to say before. He pauses for a moment before speaking again, and you fear it’s because he’s noticed your trepidation. “You’re very perceptive for a mortal, you know. That much I’ve picked up on, if not anything else. So is that really what you think then? That she could really harbor any sort of affection for me, despite what I’ve done?” And if that doesn’t hurt even more. The first reason being that he clearly loves this girl even deeper than you’d originally thought, the second being that he still believes himself to be so inherently undesirable that he has to ask you for confirmation that another could love him back. And of course he’s lovable, he’s literally taken your very soul and intertwined it with his own.

“Kunimitsu, how could she not? Do you really not see anything in yourself of any value? Of course you’re loved. Despite what you think of yourself, and what you think others should think, you are meant to be cared for just as you are. I- she can see the way you’ve changed, and your efforts to heal and become better. If someone like you cares for her, there isn’t any possible way you aren’t dear to her as well.” The reason these words come out so easily can only be explained by the feelings you harbor so deeply for him. Maybe it sounds too much like a confession of your own, and despite trying to make yourself believe you say it for his own good, you know deep down it’s really because you want to relieve some of that ache for yourself. He looks at you in a relieved sort of way, almost endearing, yet still not fully believing. “Do I really deserve this..?” His eyes are by far the softest you’ve ever seen as he practically begs you to confirm it for him again. And damn it if you didn’t love him so much, if you weren’t so eager to please him. “You do. You really, truly do.” If only he knew how good you’d treat him if you were the one he longed for. If only he knew how hot your flame burned for him, if only he knew the way you longed to hold, caress, and simply just love him. And so you decide you can bear to look at him no longer, lest you break down in tears. “It’s getting a bit late, I think. I hope you think about what I told you. Good night, Kuni.”

You stand up, not really caring anymore if you seemed to end the night too abruptly. Maybe it was selfish to leave just like that, and maybe he could tell you were upset, but none of that mattered. Right now, you really wanted to just put yourself first for once. Nearly the instant you consider yourself far enough away from him or anyone else, you begin to break down. You roughly cover your mouth with the palm of your hand to cover the sound of a pathetic little sob that escapes your vocal chords. A shaky inhale follows as large droplets of salty tears quickly make their way down your cheeks from the corners of your eyes. Your other arm wraps around your midsection at a subconscious attempt at self comfort. You collapse against the slide of a building, sliding down the wall until you’re fully seated on the ground, allowing your emotions to fully take a hold of you. For what feels almost never ending, you cry and cry and cry until you don’t have it in you to produce anything more. You take another shaky breath, whether to calm yourself down or to replace all the oxygen lost, you’re not sure. It doesn’t really help either way.

After several more minutes of just sitting there, hugging your knees to your chest and looking up absentmindedly at the night sky, quite literally contemplating everything about your life, you’re snapped out of your thoughts by the sounds of soft footsteps coming down the cobblestone road. You panic, desperately not wanting anyone to see you in such a state. Upon further inspection, the sounds of the approaching person become clearer. It sounds as if the owner isn’t wearing any shoes. Instead, there’s also the faintest sound of jingling bells. Turning your head slightly to the side, you catch a glimpse of exactly who seems to be approaching, and you sigh in relief. You actually wouldn’t mind a little company from this person, if they even notice you hiding in the depths of your despair. The little dendro archon strolls casually down the street, seeming to be thinking of nothing but how tranquil the ambience is. Part of you wants to step out from your hiding place and greet her, the other urging you to curl away even further. Neither of the thoughts win, resulting in you staying exactly where you are.

The white-haired little sprout hums an old Sumeruen tune as she bounces on the balls of her feet, not a care in the world. Your heart warms a little at the sight. Just as the thought finishes passing through your love-sick mind, she cocks her head to the side, noticing your presence. With a little pleased gasp, she bounces right over to you. “(Name), I’ve been looking all over for you! Why are you sitting all alone?”

You give her a smile, only half attempting to conceal your distress. You don’t really want her to question you about your misfortune, yet at the same time, it would feel really nice to tell somebody you trusted as much as her about it. “Hi, Nahida. I’m just taking a breather, I guess. It’s really nice out tonight, isn’t it?” Your voice is soft and smooth, as it usually is when making conversation with her. “It is indeed! I was just out taking a walk myself. My intention was actually to find you, I was wondering if you had made it to the festival. It seems I ended up getting a bit distracted… so I’d say it’s actually quite lucky I managed to run into you here. Silly me!” She sits down next to you, bells rustling against each other. Her short legs stick out straight and she rests her hands atop her lap. “You were looking for me? What for exactly?” You curiously ask, resting your cheek on the palm of your hand while your head turns to look at her. Your eyelashes are still clustered together in little points as a result of the river of tears just a few minutes prior.

She taps a finger against her chin, a typical habit of hers reserved for thinking. “To be honest… I don’t think I really had a reason. I was just seeking your company! Ever since I met you and the traveler, I’ve found that I quite enjoy spending time with my friends.” This elicits a giggle from you. She didn’t even intend for it to be a compliment, her comment was pure honesty. But nevertheless it succeeded in making you feel a little better to know that you were on her mind, even if she had no idea what you were feeling at the moment. “Well I’m glad you found me then. Did you go to the festival today?”

“No, I didn’t get the chance to. But…” She trails off, giving you a puzzled yet concerned expression.

“Is there something on your mind? I know I’m not an expert yet on human emotions, but I feel as if you are acting differently than you normally do.”

She sits patiently, waiting for a response. True, she had a bit of a hard time contemplating the more complex emotions of humans, but she was still one of the most empathetic people you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

You sigh, might as well tell her the truth. “Nahida, I… you’re right. I am thinking about something. I just don’t know exactly how to tell you..” Your gaze falls down, suddenly you become more interested in picking at your cuticles than the inquisitive girl beside you. She hums in understanding. “I see...” She sits in silence, words failing to find her. They don’t seem to come to you either.

“..shall I read your mind? Not to intrude, but do you think it would help? Would you like me to know what’s wrong?” She pressed, almost carefully. After a bit of trial and error, the young archon had learned that most people don’t appreciate being bluntly asked for their feelings. So, she’d learned to take things with a bit more heed. Any other day, you probably would have laughed, telling her not to worry herself over you. But, thanks to none other than Nahida herself, you’d begun to slowly become a bit more open with how you felt. She’d advised, after reading some self-help book on managing emotions, that you start telling people when you felt something that made you hurt. And as honestly awkward as it was, it was helping. In lieu of a response, you nod your head in answer to her question with a small ‘mhm’ sound, the words once again failing to come to you.

She nods her head as well, giving your shoulder a gentle pat before ever so softly taking your hand in both of hers, treating it as if it were a fragile glass ornament. She gives it a soft kiss before grasping it more firmly, shutting her eyelids before beginning the process of entering your consciousness. Without even trying, you replay the events of earlier that afternoon in your mind, cringing the whole way through. It brought a tough sort of ache into your chest, sort of like bread dough with too much flour. After only a few more seconds of replaying painful scenes and holding your breath without even realizing, she opens her eyes, but chooses not to release your hand just yet. When her expression meets yours, it can only be described as sorrowfully compassionate.

“Oh…” Is the only sound that escapes her lips. You smile sadly and attempt to laugh in order to lighten the mood, regretting it instantly the second the noise emitted from your throat turns into a sob. You cover your mouth with your hand as the tears return yet again. Nahida stands on her knees to better reach you, wrapping her small arms around your shoulders, patting your back comfortingly. “I am so, so, so sorry (Name). If only I had known… he hadn’t even told me about his feelings for her.” She coos. Speaking through your tears, you make an attempt to defend her position. “It’s not- It’s not your fault. It’s not anyone’s fault. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.” You let your head hang low with no more energy left to hold it high.

“You know that I’ve never experienced such heartbreak personally, but I can imagine it hurts just as much as you say. Please don’t start to think anything less of yourself because of this, you are still perfect.” She lifts herself from the embrace, holding your head in both of her hands. You look up at her with tear stained cheeks that glisten in the moonlight, giving a watery laugh. “Nahida, you are so nice to me. You think you don’t understand emotions, but you still care about mine more than a lot of people I’ve met.”

“It’s my duty as the Archon of Sumeru, isn’t it? I must attend to all the needs of my people. Political, physical, and I also believe emotional. And as one of my newfound friends, I need to take care of you too.” She smiles, resembling that of a proud child after their mother congratulated them on a well-earned school grade. It makes you smile too. “I guess it is then. Thank you, Nahida. You are really a good friend.”

“And so are you! Now, I want you to promise me something, okay? Go to bed tonight as soon as you can, get lots of good rest. And tomorrow make sure to eat a healthy breakfast and get lots of sunshine. Sunshine is proven to lift moods significantly! Can you do that for me?” She counsels, this time resembling that of a mother caring for her ill child. You nod in agreement. “Sure. I’ll try my best.” You know full well agreeing to her worried demands was only to make her happy. Truthfully, you’re not sure for how long this heartbreak will plague your mind. It’s not everyday the love of your life blatantly states to your face that they love somebody who isn’t you. Some people would get angry when faced with a situation like this. Angry at the boy, angry at the other. Angry at themselves, even. But as of right now, you can’t find it in you to be angry. The feeling lingering behind from the shipwreck only seems to be a deep sort of pain, the kind that hollows out your chest and resides deep in the darkest of corners, it’s shadows seeping out to infest every single inch of you. Despite the sunshine peeking in, maybe from the kind words of a friend such as Nahida, the shadows don’t seem all that repulsed by it. When you were younger, you once told yourself you weren’t interested in the idea of falling in love. After reading so many books, nothing about the topic ever appealed to you. But as most people know, lives hardly go as they are planned, hardly follow along with the intentions. You hadn’t meant to fall in love with him, you hadn’t even tried. And maybe that’s what made it hurt so bad, because it seemed the universe had surprised you with a gift so lovely. You accepted, because who wouldn’t turn down such a generous item? Only to find out the universe had made a mistake, that lovely present tied with a satin bow was not in fact made for you, but rather instead for the lovely person next door with sparkling eyes like diamonds and a heart of gold.

Right now, your eyes feel much too clouded to even have a chance at sparkling, and your heart too heavy to be made of anything but black, crumbling coal. Maybe you’ll get over him, or maybe you won’t. Maybe this will be the kind of first love that stays by your side the rest of your life, the kind you tell stories to your grandchildren about when they ask you if you’ve ever been in love. Or maybe the fates will have a change of heart and decide to grant you the wish you’ve been so desperately clinging on to. Either way, you love him. And there will always be a part of you that hopes, maybe, he’ll love you too.

#genshin impact #wanderer #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #DID YOU SEE WHAT I DID WITH THE LEMONADE #IM SO PROUD #i’m gonna go back and proofread this again cause i think i missed some stuff :(

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mintawasalreadytaken · 6 months

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i saw in ur pinned post that ur into horror & am curious if you’ve extended that into fics at all? do you have recommendations?

i recently got SLIGHTLY into drarry + horror-ish vibes in fics and only read a few but i fell in LOVE with “Yours Is The Earth (Hold On, Hold On)” by chickenlivesinpumpkin - and it was like just the right amount of fucked up & just the right amount of like ‘holy shit??? DAMN’ with normal drarry in it.

was wondering if u had any similiar spooky time recs for drarry fics- maybe??

(‘: thank u so much ( ur works are so large they scare me a bit but i’ve bookmarked them for a less coward me in the future )

🦇 SPOOKY DRARRY RECS! 👹

hullo and THANK YOU for this rec! i am dearly thankful to get 100k+ of deliciously dark writing to sink into!

unfortunately, while i know i've read some really great drarry horror, it's lost to my AO3 history instead of bookmarked, so i'll be damned if i could remember or find any of it ☠️ my bad.

instead, i asked some fandom buds for their spooky drarry favs. in no particular order, here they are:

🔪 cruel blade by @wheezykat

Drowning in his grief after the murder of his husband, Draco will do anything to bring him back.

But this is not Harry. This is something else entirely.

🧠 mastermind by @schmem14

Draco Malfoy has been with Hermione Granger, is currently dating Harry Potter, and he's determined to have Ron Weasley at any cost. He has to complete his set of three, after all…

🌊 saltwater stain by @the-starryknight

Seven days stuck on a boat investigating a rogue ghost wouldn't be so bad if Harry didn't want Draco so much. Draco has his rules and Harry's content to follow them, but the air feels different away from the shore. Is it possible that the sea could offer Harry something impossible on land?

📚 i demand a soft epilogue by @the-starryknight

James didn't arrive on the Hogwarts Express, and so Harry hasn't slept in a week. Something has brought him back to the stoop outside a building marked "Library" in gold letters. He's going to go inside. Maybe the Librarian can help.

🩸 in our blood by @secretsalex-blog

Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

🎃 the other cottage by @corvuscrowned If Pansy wasn’t shagging Ginny Weasley, Draco would never have been dragged to Luna’s ridiculous Halloween party in the first place - meaning he wouldn't be sitting in the corner of the room with Harry Potter all night.

But when a strange comet passes overhead, things start to get even weirder than usual.

As the night unfolds, Harry and Draco are forced to grapple with strange realities, reckon with new sides of themselves, and find their way back before the comet finishes crossing the sky.

👻 on the last day by @thusspoketrish

Draco is still mourning the recent loss of his mother when the Wizarding World is struck with the tragic news of Harry Potter’s untimely death. It’s just his luck that Potter not only comes back as a ghost, but seems intent on haunting Draco as he’s the only one that can see him. It’s a race against time to retrace the last few days of Potter’s life in order to find his body before he’s lost to the living or spiritual realm forever. On their journey, they’ll uncover secrets, betrayals, and a horrific truth that will disrupt both the living and the dead.

🏚️ the manor by @kittycargo

There was something wrong with the Manor.

✨bonus points / non-Drarry✨

🐓 tidewracked, sidetracked by @vukovich (Luna/Theo)

A Cursed professor. An attractive Cursebreaker. A hut that grew chicken legs and rampaged around Hogwarts.

☁️ flour & flesh by anon (Pansy/Hermione) The cottage on the hill is shrouded in clouds like a secret. Our secret. In some muggle neighborhood lore, I’m sure we’re the witches inside, granting a glimpse of the future in exchange for a rusted penny. And no one else could find us unless they knew the way.

i'll shamelessly self-rec my whumptober collection and this erotic body horror fic replete with puns for you to sample as well.

do you have a fav spooky drarry fic to share? leave your recs in the comments/links in a reblog!

thx to @prolix- @kittycargo @the-starryknight @fictional @schmem14 @nv-md @citrusses @vukovich & @kittycargo for the recs xo

#drarry #drarry horror #dead dove #spooky drarry #have a wonderful halloween

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

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my moodboard for @the-slumberparty’s test your palette visual challenge. this certainly sparked something in my mind.

short fic below the cut bc i was inspired 🕯️🥀🌚

the devil’s bride

pairing: demon!lee bodecker x witch!reader

warnings: 18+ only.

words: 2.3k

notes: idk i just had a thought and ran with it lol. let me know what you think. feedback and reblogs are always welcome and so appreciated. thanks in advance for reading 🖤

You came back to town for your sister’s funeral, heartbroken and enraged. She wasn’t a stupid girl. She never would have been out so late by herself, let alone drinking. The story you were told of what happened that night made no sense. None of it.

So you decided you’d find the truth on your own.

A simple incantation over a rigorously detailed ritual offering and not three days later the man she’d been seeing was mysteriously found dead. The church mourned over yet another life gone too soon as you scoffed at the scene. The spell worked to find her killer but you still felt a pull to do more. You were closer to the truth now, knowing Frank had killed her, but you surely weren’t the only one who knew that. The cover up story for your sister’s death, the one that made her out to be just some drunk harlot who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, it came from somewhere. From someone.

You soon enough got your hands on the official case files. Each and every paper was filled out and signed off by the same man. Sheriff Lee Bodecker.

There was nothing you could truly do for your sister now, you knew that. But your rage only grew more palpable with each page you turned, with every lie you read. A fire burned within you and all you could see was red. All you could think was revenge. You wanted to know why. This was only a small piece of the puzzle that was Lee Bodecker. He was hiding something much bigger, much darker behind the “small” cover ups you were sure he hardly thought twice about.

There was something evil brewing in this town, dark, unnaturally powerful. You could feel it the moment you’d arrived. And your gut told you he was at the center of it. You were going to find out exactly what it was he was hiding, one way or another.

He wasn’t the only person willing to work with the devil himself to get their way. And when a girl looks as sweet as you, even the sharpest of men won’t see her coming.

You’d made a deal with the devil before, one more couldn’t hurt. He’d find you to collect eventually, you’d make the most of what magic and time you had left to try and do what little good you could.

You would just need to get close to him, gain his trust, and then find out the truth. Once you knew, you’d make your pact to put an end to whatever it was that was going on here, whatever shady dealings your sister had gotten entangled in that ended in her losing her life and having her name and reputation unfairly tarnished.

Two weeks of watching the Sheriff, two weeks of careful planning until you were sure you were ready to approach him. You pulled at the skirt of your dress with one hand, the other holding your homemade pie as you carefully walked up the steps to his house. You made sure you looked as nice as you could, all made up and dressed just right to ensure you would hold his eye the moment he saw you.

The sheriff was an intimidating presence, you could feel it even now. He held power and there was something in his eye that made it near impossible to look away once he had you in his sights. He was a handsome man, too, only adding to the draw you couldn’t deny. You took a breath to steel yourself before knocking on the door. It was only a moment until he answered.

“Can I help you, darlin’?” he asked after pulling open his front door, looking you up and down. You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your cleavage, the top button of your dress having been purposely left undone to give him just a little view.

“Hi there, uh, Sheriff?” you asked feigning uncertainty, “I’m not sure I’m at the right address,” you laughed coyly, balancing the freshly baked pie in your hands.

“You’re at the right place,” he reassured you. “What can I do for you, sweetheart?”

You internally cringed at the pet name but forced a demure smile on your lips as you fluttered your lashes up at him; his crystal blue eyes peering down at you.

“The real question is what can I do for you, Sheriff. I just wanted to come by and say thank you, for all your hard work. Abigail was my sister, she uhm,” you paused, swallowing the small lump in your throat, “well you know, all that went down. I’m just thankful you got the case solved as quickly as you did. It was, horrible. But better to know what happened than to be left wondering,” you smiled sadly.

You lifted the pie in your hands to bring it up to him, your offering. “Wasn’t sure what the best way to thank you would be, but I figured a pie wouldn’t hurt to start with.”

“That’s mighty kind of you,” he paused, prompting you to give him your name. You did and watched as he repeated it, your name falling off his tongue, nearly dripping in honey from his accent. You smiled.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” he offered, your jaw tightening as you worked to keep your smile on your lips, hoping the flash of ire that burned in your eyes wasn’t noticeable to him. That wasn’t why you were here, but you knew he didn’t care, and hearing him say he did irritated you.

“But thank you. Who am I to turn down a pie from a pretty lady,” he smirked, letting his eyes roam over your body once again when he took the pie from your hands. “Sure looks good,” he said, his eyes still on you, “bet it tastes good, too.”

“Only one way to find out,” you said, voice wavering on sultry as you held his eye before dropping your gaze to his pink lips briefly, then back up. You held your hands behind your back as you blinked up at him. You smiled again when his tongue jutted out to wet his lips. “You let me know how you like it. And if I can do anything else for you, Sheriff, just let me know.”

You made to turn and go, but his voice stopped you, just like you hoped.

“Wait a minute, darlin’, you walked over here all by yourself?”

“I did,” you answered.

“Well, I can’t have you walkin’ out there alone in the cold, can I. ‘Specially not in nothin’ but a dress. Why don’t you come inside, have a slice of pie with me and I’ll give you a ride home after.”

“Oh, I’d hate to put you out, Sheriff,” you opposed weakly for the sake of politeness as you toyed with the hem of your dress, your fingertips brushing against your thighs, goosebumps rising on your skin. “Though it is a bit colder now than when I first started walkin’ over here,” you smiled shyly.

“Come on in, sweetheart, it’s nice and warm inside. Make yourself at home,” he said as he walked back and held the door open for you.

You smiled widely at his words and made your way inside. “Thank you, Sheriff.”

“Lee,” he offered.

“Lee,” you nodded as you passed him in the doorway, brushing up against him more than you needed to. The warmth radiating from him sent a wave of heat right through you, but you didn’t let the effect he was already having on you show. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked further in, following the sway of your hips before he shut the door behind you and followed you in. He led the way to the kitchen, setting down the pie on the table before he returned to you with a pie cutter and two plates and forks. You gently took the cutter from him, your touch lingering on his hand for a second. “Please, allow me,” you said before cutting him a piece and placing it on his plate. You cut a smaller slice for yourself, no real intention of eating it as you watched him sit down in his seat, sliding the plate closer to him.

You took your own seat and crossed one leg over the other as you waited for him to try it. But seeing how easy it was to get him to let you inside, you weren’t even sure you’d need him to eat it to have the man wrapped around your finger. Everything was playing out just the way you wanted it to.

Lee’s moan brought you back to yourself as you smiled at him, watching him chew before he swallowed his bite.

“Take it you like it,” you tittered.

“Just might be the best damned pie I’ve had,” he grinned at you. “Real sweet,” his blue eyes burned into your own, an intensity there you weren’t expecting quite yet. A twinkle of something you couldn’t place shining as he looked at you.

“‘M glad you think so,” you breathed. “New recipe, made it specially for you.”

“Hope you didn’t go through too much trouble on my account,”

“Oh, not at all. I wanted to.”

He smirked at that, his eyes sharper now as he took you in. He licked his lips wolfishly before he spoke.

“So, you come all the way down here just to proposition me, honey?”

You stilled completely at his words. Tilting your head at him as you furrowed your brow incredulously, “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, darlin’. You come down here to whore yourself out to the first man who catches your eye, like that little sister ah yours?”

You took a deep breath as you willed yourself to remain calm, though the set of your jaw and the flaring of your nostrils surely gave you away.

“I’m only gonna tell you this once, Lee, don’t talk about my sister again.”

“Oh, you’re gonna tell me, is that right?” His grin was wicked as he taunted you. “You think you can tell me what I can and can’t do? You’re dancin’ with the devil, darlin’.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you shook your head, refusing to break eye contact first, “Me and the devil, we get along just fine.”

He laughed heartily at that as you maintained your composure. If he thought for one second you’d be scared of him, he was sorely mistaken. Even as he stood, getting closer to you, invading your space as he towered above you, you didn’t budge.

His hand was suddenly on your chin and when you went to swipe at him, he squeezed hard, tutting at you as you dropped your hands back down.

“I want you to tell me why you’re really here, darlin’.”

“What’s wrong, Lee? Is it so hard to believe a pretty girl would actually go out of her way to bake you a pie? To stop by and say ‘Thank you for all you do, Sheriff,’” you exaggerated your faux gratitude as his eyes darkened while he listened. “I bet what’s really hard to believe is that anyone in their right mind would ever want you to fuck them. One soft smile and a stupid innuendo from a nice girl in a short dress had you opening up your home. I really thought you’d make it just a bit harder,” you taunted, earning a growl from him as he yanked you up out of your seat. You found yourself being pressed against his chest, his strength more than you’d imagined.

“You can play all you want, but you think I couldn’t smell your sweet cunt the second you stepped up on my porch? I know you’re all hot and bothered,” he pushed you back against the table as he spoke crudely, “wet and ready for me already, like a good little whore.”

“I’m no man’s whore,” you bit back, refusing to back down. He chuckled deep in his throat.

“No you’re not, are ya. You, are the devil’s whore, ain'tcha,” he said, voice thick with lust as he leaned over you. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared up at him, the blues of his eyes flashing the deepest black you’d ever seen before their color returned, his smirk right along with it. “Sweetheart, you’re lookin’ at the devil himself. Been waitin’ for you to show up for a while now. Finally make good on that deal you made me. I got ya outta this town just like you wanted. You had a few good years. But it’s time ya come back to me. Waited for you long enough,” he breathed. You gasped in pain as an unexpected, sharp, searing fire burned in your chest and along the ring finger of your left hand. You pushed against his hold on you, writhing uncomfortably in his grasp until suddenly the burn was gone. You clutched at your chest as you gasped for breath. He grabbed your hand and held up his left hand in yours, your eyes landed on a solid silver band on his ring finger and a diamond banded ring on your own.

“What-” you started before being cut off by his brash tone.

“Oh don’t act so surprised. You knew damn well what you agreed to when you made that pact. Five whole years, magic and freedom, and then you’re mine, sweetheart. Forever and always.” He placed his hand over the left side of your chest, a sudden tightness was felt on your heart, a tight squeezing that shouldn’t have been possible.

“Don’t look so scared, honey,” he simpered, his hands finding your waist as he began feeling you up. “We’re gonna have a whole lotta fun together, you and me. And if you’re good, I’ll even let’cha keep your magic. Don’t work on me anyway.”

#lee bodecker x curvy!reader #lee bodecker x plus size!reader #lee bodecker x reader #navy and roo’s sleepover #sheriff lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker #navy and roo sleepover #lee bodecker #lee bodecker moodboard #dark!lee bodecker x reader #demon!lee bodecker #witch!reader

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matthewkniesys · 11 months

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i know it won't work - trevor zegras

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

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

pairing: trevor zegras x gn!reader

warnings: angsty and some swearing

good riddance fic series

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

I left you there

Heard you keep the extra closet empty

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, I do.”

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

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

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

Hearing that, shatters your heart into a million pieces.

What if I won’t?

How am I supposed to put that gently?

And down the road

You will love me until you resent me

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

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

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

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

I’ve had the thought

Tried to work it out through anxious pacing

What if I’m not

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

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

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

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

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

But it’s a lot

All the shine of half a decade fading

The whole facade

Seemed to fall apart, it’s complicated

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

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

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

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

'Cause part of me wants you back, but

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And part of me wants you back, but

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

In the weeks that follow you don’t hear anything from Trevor. Until mid November and then everything starts seeping back in.

First it’s a text. A simple, hey, how are you? And you know you shouldn’t respond so you don’t. And then it’s pleading. It’s text saying we need to talk or I miss you. And you almost respond to those because you can’t bear to think that you are causing Trevor so much pain. But again you hold out and don’t respond. It’s when he starts picking up the phone and calling that you can’t stop yourself.

He called you once, you didn’t pick up. He called you a second time, and still you restrained yourself, but the third time was when everything went crashing down.

You had been having a really shitty day to start off with and you were already in the worst of your feelings, so when Trevor called it’s like it breaks a dam inside of you. A wall that had been holding strong but was now toppling over.

You pick up the phone and for a minute it’s just dead silence. You hear Trevor’s breathing so you know he’s there but he hasn’t said anything. So you decide to speak first.

“Trev, I thought we agreed to cut ties. We can’t keep doing this. You need to move on. This isn’t healthy for either one of us.”

“ Y/n, you’re the one who said we should cut ties, I never agreed. I need you in my life. I miss you.” The desperation in Trevor’s voice makes you want to cry. It makes you feel as if someone took a jagged piece of glass and cut open the wound that was slowly starting to heal. The wound that you inflicted by walking away. A part of you still wants him. But you can’t. You just can’t. It isn’t possible.

I'll open up

I'm thinking everything you wish I wasn't

The call was tough

But you're better off, I'm being honest

You take a deep breath. You need to give Trevor the closure he needs and then leave for good. You need to explicitly say that this won’t work. You need to tell him without any fancy words that he needs to accept that you're not the one for him.

“Trevor,” you plead, needing him to listen, “You need to walk away. I’ve been trying to for months now but you keep pulling me back in. I’ve already moved on but you’re the one who won’t let me leave. We were what we were but we can’t be that anymore. I’m not the same person I was 3 years ago and you aren’t either. Let me go and in the long run we’ll save each other a ton of hurt. I love you but this won’t work. You have to let go. I’m gonna hang up and you aren’t gonna call me again.” You pause, catching your breath. “I wish you nothing but the best. Goodbye, Trev.

You sit in silence for a moment. It was hard. You have tried telling him goodbye before but this felt much more final. After all the other times you tried saying goodbye to Trevor, you still felt as if there was more to the story before it would be over. You hoped the story was over now. It was the best thing for you and for Trevor.

So won’t you stop

Holding out for me when I don’t want it

Just brush me off

I’m your ghost right now, your house is haunted

It took all of five minutes for Trevor to call you again. 5 fucking minutes. God, all you want at this point is for Trevor to move on. To realize this is the best thing that could’ve happened. You don’t pick up. You need to set some boundaries. You can’t keep picking up the phone when you don’t wanna talk. He needs to just brush you off and move on.

But he calls 4 more times that night. And you’re scared it won’t stop. So you pick up. Of course you do. It’s that little part of you that still wants him back that makes you.

“Trevor, you need to stop. I’m sorry but we can’t. I don’t know how many times you want me to say this. I know this won’t work the way you want it to or at all. So please I’m begging you stop. Put both of us out of our misery. You start moving on so I can finish letting go. Trevor, don’t call me again or I will block your number. I don’t want to because for some reason it just feels wrong. But I will. Goodbye, Trev.”

You hang up and this time you know. It’s final. Trevor won’t call again. You’re sad but more than that you’re relieved. You can finally start living again.

It’s as if for these past months you’ve been this ghost for Trevor. One that would constantly follow him. You were haunting him and know you’re finally being set free.

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

It’s been years now. You don’t think about it often but every once in a while Trevor will pop into your mind. You’re happy. You really are. And from what you see on social media, Trevor is too.

You try not to dwell on it but sometimes you think about what might have been. What might have happened if you had gone back to Trevor. And honestly you aren’t sure. Maybe everything would’ve worked out and the two of you would be happily together right now. Or maybe it would’ve ended up being exactly what you thought would happen if you went back.

You truly believe you made the right decision in letting Trevor go. You knew it wouldn’t work the way he was envisioning. And hopefully you spared the both of you a lot of heartache.

You’re happy right now. That’s what matters. You and Trevor don’t talk much except for the occasional birthday message but maybe that was how it was supposed to be. You knew it wouldn’t work like that and you made the right decision, for you and for Trevor. You had and still have so much love for him and that’s all it’ll ever be. And you’re okay with that. You really are.

thanks for reading 🫶

good riddance fic series

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drewsbuzzcut · 1 year

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These Are The Days That Kiss You On Your Broken Nose

college baseball player!drew starkey x fem!reader

part of the college baseball au (the breakup part 6) pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5

warnings: talks about mourning and miscarriages, pregnancy scare, therapy, angst

After the day Drew left your apartment, you knew you needed to get yourself together. You could still mourn, but in a way that wasn’t harmful to yourself. You forced yourself to go to therapy. You are graduating in 2 weeks, and it’s supposed to be an important day in your life. You didn’t want to be in a miserable state, so you made sure you were holding yourself accountable by taking care of yourself, physically and mentally.

Now, here you are: the morning of your college graduation, about to go pay a visit to your therapist. You had made a lot of progress in the couple of weeks before. Your therapist talked about your mourning tactics, and you both talked about ways that weren’t pulling you down. You also talked about Drew a lot; anything from why and how you broke up to the events after breaking up. You cried a lot and at times you felt angry, but in reality you were just as wrong as he was.

You walk into your therapist’s room, feeling anxious, but ready to release more pent up emotion.

“Hi, y/n! How’re you feeling today?” Your therapist asks as soon as you sit on the sofa in the room.

“I’m feeling better. I’m still mourning, so I’m still sad but I don’t let it bring me down so much. I feel more put together, but today, I feel more emotional,” you answer.

“How so?”

“Well, I have been looking forward to this day -my college graduation- since I graduated high school. Then when I met Drew and fell in love with him, I looked forward to us being together on this day. When we broke up, I guess I never thought it would last this long. I still miss him so much,” you say, tears building up in your eyes.

“Why do you think your breakup has lasted this long? Is it because of the miscarriage you had?”

Dread settles over you when you think of Drew not wanting you because you miscarried his baby. It was a thought that never crossed your mind until now. You swallow down the negative thought, not wanting to think about something that might not even be true.

“No, it’s not because of the miscarriage. At least not on my part. I think it’s because we’re both so stubborn.”

“Try not to think about Drew’s reasons. Just yours,” she instructs you.

“Okay. It’s because I’m stubborn. I was so insistent with breaking up because I didn’t believe we could make it in a long distance relationship. Drew might’ve been selfish with wanting me to go with him to Houston, but I was selfish too for expecting him to follow me and give up his dream. I threw away our relationship because I wasn’t getting what I wanted,” you admit.

“You were stubborn your whole breakup. You avoided him no matter how much you wanted to reach out to him. He let himself act on instinct which is why he called you to share his news with you. You had a chance to be beside your stubborn ways, so why did you turn him down?”

Hearing someone else talk about how you forced him away, again, made your tears spill over. You tried to respond a couple of times, but your sobs took over. Your therapist was patient and let you take some time to calm down.

“I felt that he deserved better than me. In every way. I couldn’t follow him and he deserves someone who will. He is so put together and I’m such a mess. I lost our baby when I should’ve been able to carry full term. It kills me that I lost our baby, and I couldn’t even find the courage to tell him. He deserves someone better,” you state.

“How do you know he wasn’t just as much of a mess as you were? Also, the miscarriage wasn’t your fault. I thought we were past the point where you blame yourself?”

Your tears are still falling and you don’t try to stop them. You need to feel these emotions. It’s the only way you can ensure that you won’t drown yourself.

“I don’t. Not anymore. I meant that as a reason for why I turned him down. As for Drew being a mess, well, I guess I don’t know how he was after we broke up.”

“Do you think if he were to ask you back, now, you’d let him back in?”

“I know it’s only been 2 weeks since our first session, but I know that I don’t want to be without him. However, I don’t want him to feel like he has to be the one to come to me. I want to go to him. I want him to know that I want him,” you say.

“I’m glad you see your progress. I know you’re still going through some things, and you may not be fully back to who you were, but maybe this change is good,” your therapist tells you.

“While I’m proud of the progress I’ve made, part of me feels like I’m only willing to get back with him because I got a better job offer in Houston. I still feel like I’m selfish.”

“You got a job offer in Houston?”

“Yeah! I just found out today.”

“It’s not selfish. You admitted that you wanted to be with him, but you let yourself get in the way. You told me that you wished you had fought for your relationship instead of giving up,” she got you there.

“I do feel that way. I know that I got in my own way, but I can’t help but feel selfish. Is that wrong?”

“No, it’s not. As I said, you’re still working through things. You’ll see, one day, that you weren’t being selfish. Things just happened to work out.”

“I hope so,” you say.

“It looks like our time is up. This session was good, and I hope you feel the same. I will see you next week?”

“It was good. Thank you for your time, see you next week,” you say your goodbyes.

Walking out of the office, you feel more sure of yourself. There are still doubts swimming in your mind, but you continue to try to not let them distract you.

You knew in your heart that you wanted to be with Drew. He was your person and you knew that from the beginning.

————————————————————————

You were seated in your assigned seat in the stadium where the graduation was taking place. Your body was shaking from nerves. You were nervous about walking up on stage and hoping you didn’t trip. You were also nervous about Drew seeing you. The last time he had seen you, you didn’t look so great, but now you were more put together. Although, deep down you knew Drew would always love you no matter what you looked like.

As you wait for your name to be called, you finally have the time to think. You go through the many conversations you could have with Drew, and all the different ways you could tell him that you still wanted him. You didn’t want to overthink talking to him, but you couldn’t help but wonder if the timing was right. You were going to find him after the ceremony and hopefully he’d be willing to listen to what you had to say.

There is a whole list of things you need to say to him, but you were going to start simple. You need to tell him how much you love him. It was the most important thing. Everything else could be talked about later.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you almost missed your name being called. You didn’t know, but your lack of attention to the ceremony caught Drew’s attention. He was only a few rows down from where you were, but his eyes were on you the whole time. He watched the way your forehead would turn down in a frown, and the way you chewed on your lip like you were anxious. He wanted so badly to go over to you and hold you, but the only thing stopping him was that it’d give you another opportunity to push him away.

You walk across the stage with a proud and happy smile plastered on your face, and for once it wasn’t a fake smile. You hear some cheers from friends and other people in the audience. You even caught Drew’s eyes and he looked so happy. He gave you a smile, but it just made you freeze up, so you didn’t actually smile back. It killed you when you saw his smile fall.

When it was Drew’s turn to walk across the stage, you tried to catch his eyes, but he didn’t look your way. You did cheer for him, though. He deserved that much.

While everyone else’s names were being called, you gave yourself a moment to just think about everything besides Drew. You knew that you needed to know what you wanted to do before you went to him, asking him for another shot.

The job offer from Houston was the best offer in comparison to the offer from New York. You’ve always pictured yourself in New York, too, but the more you think about Houston, the more you want to experience what the city has to offer. If you found yourself unhappy, you could always just move. You owed yourself taking a chance, a risk. You would partially be moving for Drew, but you’d mostly be moving for yourself. You had to stop getting in your own way.

Maybe you should think about it more, or maybe it was best that you were just going with your gut, but you would be moving to Houston with or without Drew.

When the ceremony came to an end, you hurried outside so you could start looking for Drew. You thought it was best if you found him exiting the building, than you searching through a large amount of people.

When you see him he’s by himself, looking around as well. Maybe he was looking for you. As you’re about to start heading his way, his family beats you there. You see Drew’s face light up and he’s laughing at whatever’s being said. He gets hugs from his siblings and parents, and for a moment you feel a hint of jealousy. You wished you had a family that cared, but instead you were alone. It made you wonder if Drew really needed you when he had so many other wonderful, loving people in his life already.

That one small thought is enough to wash away any courage you had to go up to Drew. You didn’t want to interrupt him, and you’re so sure that his family probably hates you now. As you go to walk away, you make eye contact with one of Drew’s sisters. For a moment it looks like she’s going to say something about her seeing you, but you leave before anyone else could see you.

You didn’t want to be there, surrounded by all the families and you didn’t want to go home, so you went to the one place you loved to go to for anything.

The batting cages on campus are where your first date with Drew took place. It was always a place you could go to think. It didn’t matter if they were technically closed, you knew a secret entrance.

Sitting on one of the benches, you reflect on every moment between you and Drew during your relationship. The first kiss, the first time you realized you were in love, the first fight, and everything in between and after.

Some of the best years of your life were because of Drew. He pulled you out of a darkness you didn’t even know you were in. He showed you what family felt like and you went and threw it all away.

“I guess I’m not the only one who thinks this place is comforting,” you hear a voice say from behind you. A voice you know all too well. The voice you’ve been dying to hear.

You just laugh and nod your head. You’re having trouble finding the words to say.

“You know I came here every day after we broke up. Sometimes I’d cry if I was the only one here, or sometimes I’d just practice batting for hours and hours until I felt too tired to do or think about anything else,” Drew tells you.

“I didn’t know,” you say back.

“I came here after I lost the baby,” you continue.

He just looks at you with such sad eyes, and it makes you look away from him. You couldn’t stand to see him cry.

He moves to sit down on the bench with you, hoping you do scoot away from him. You both sit in silence for a while. It’s the first time since the breakup that you are near each other without fighting; it’s peaceful.

“Drew, when was the first time you realized you were falling in love with me?”

Drew chuckles thinking about the memory of realizing he was in love with you because it was one of his favorite memories.

“Our pregnancy scare. We only had one and it was 5 months into our relationship. You were so scared. You kept telling me that you weren’t ready and that we barely knew each other. You didn’t want me with you when you took the pregnancy test, but I told you that I wasn’t going anywhere. I also told you that if you were pregnant, everything would be fine. You just looked at me with your beautiful, teary eyes and threw yourself into my arms. I knew then that you trusted me, but I also realized how much I would do for you. I knew I had fallen in love with you,” Drew answers your question with no hesitation.

You sniffle, making him realize that you had started crying. He quickly moves closer to you to wrap you in a hug, one that you don’t back away from.

“Shit. I’m sorry to bring up the whole pregnancy scare thing especially after what you’re going through,” he apologizes.

“My miscarriage isn’t why I’m crying. I realized that I fell in love with you that same day. I didn’t know we both realized at the same time, yet waited 2 more months before admitting it,” you explain.

“That’s why you’re crying? There’s no reason to cry, sweetheart,” he whispers, making you cry more.

“I love you. I’m sorry that I didn’t fight for us. I’m sorry that I pushed you away and didn’t let you help me. I want you. I need you. You are always going to be the one for me,” you say through your cries.

Drew notices your breathing getting heavier, so he grabs your hand and places it over his heart. The strong, even thumping relinquishes a sense of comfort that you can only receive from him.

“I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t try hard enough. I should’ve put in the effort for both of us because that’s how relationships work. If one person is down, the other should help keep the balance, so that it’s always safe no matter what,” he says in return.

He wastes no time in lifting your chin up so he can slot his lips between yours, and your shoulders lose the weight that has been sitting there. You can feel yourself lose your tenseness. Warmth flows through Drew’s fingertips and sinks into your skin. The kiss is tender; no mess of tongues and no roughness. It’s everything you’ve been needing. When your fingers card through his hair, he releases a sigh, making you smile into the kiss.

“I’m breaking my contract with Houston. I’m going with you to New York,” he breaks the kiss to tell you.

“No. We’re going to Houston,” you disagree.

“I don’t want to fight about this. Let me move for you,” he pleads.

“I think it’s my turn to prove to you that I’m all in. Please. Houston needs you. I need you. New York can wait,” you hug him tightly, fighting with yourself about whether or not you should tell him about the job offer.

“I love you, always.” He pulls away from your hug and stands up in front of you. You look at him in confusion.

He kneels down on one knee, reaching into his pocket and clearing his throat before putting all his attention back on you.

Your jaw is on the floor. When you thought about the moment you got back together with him, you didn’t think he’d propose again.

“Y/n, I already asked you once and it was just bad, but that doesn’t matter. Now that we’re here and I know that you love me and want to be with me just as much as I do, I want you to know that you’re my everything. These months without you were absolute torture. I love you. Will you please marry me?”

You let your sobs out, but quickly nod your head.

“Yes! Of course I’ll marry you,” you say then throw yourself into his arms. He pulls away to place the ring on your finger. The emerald cute diamond catches all the rays from the sun, making it sparkle. You have to physically hold in your scream of elation. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

You give him kiss after kiss, and he just caresses both sides of your face like he can’t believe you said yes. When you look at him, he’s crying, too.

“You know the reason I turned you down the first time is because I thought you deserved better than me,” you admit.

Drew’s face turns into a frown and you hope you didn’t ruin this sweet moment. His mouth opens and closes, he truly didn’t know what to say.

“Why?”

“I had just lost our baby. I couldn’t protect them. And because of that, I turned into a wreck. Your life was starting to come together, so I thought it’d be unfair for me to be a mess during that.”

“Losing our baby had nothing to do with you. It wasn’t your fault; I know that much. How could you think you weren’t worthy of my love? You know that I don’t care how messy your life is, you’re my girl. I will go through anything with you if it means having you by my side,” he assures you.

“I know. I’m still working on myself and I’m still mourning.”

“I want you to know that I’ll always be by your side. Now, let’s get out of here. My family made reservations for all of us at our favorite restaurant. They miss you, too,” he adds the last part because he knew you’d be hesitant about seeing them because of the breakup, but it’s true, they did miss you.

“Drew, I have something else to tell you. This morning I got a job offer from Houston, an amazing offer. It honestly made my decision so much easier, but I don’t want you to think that I’m still being selfish, and that’s the only reason why I want to go to Houston,” you blurted out, not wanting to lie to him or keep anything from him.

“I don’t think it’s selfish. It’s just proof that everything is working out the way it should be.”

You smile at his sentence. He didn’t even know that your therapist had said the same thing. You let out a breath of relief. New beginnings were ahead of you, and you were glad you were going to have Drew by your side.

“We also have a lot more to talk about. I know everything can’t just simply go back to the way it was. We need to figure out where we went wrong, and how we can communicate better. Plus, I want to know every little detail about every thought and thing you went through during our breakup. No hiding anything from each other,” he adds.

How could you not agree? You were dying to know every little thing he went through as well, and you needed to talk with him. You needed better communication. You were looking forward to fixing things.

“I like that idea!”

You step in front of him as you’re both walking. You throw your arms around his neck, lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him. It still felt like the first time.

a/n: This is the final part of the breakup! I had so much fun writing these pieces. The “love will get you there” series will still be continuing after this part, so if any of you have requests, go ahead and send them in. I hope you all enjoy!

#drew starkey #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey angst #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey blurb #obx cast #obx3

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 9 months

Text

𓃮 Even the Sun Influences the Tide: Chapter Twenty-Two

Even the Sun Influences the Tide: After the death of your foster brother, King T’Challa, you had spent much of your year of mourning in isolation. When your mother gathers you and your sister to end your mourning period, you encounter the newest threat to Wakanda: Namor. You don’t know what to think of Namor, but you do know one thing: he probably shouldn’t be making trips to see you at your beach hut.

Warnings: Non-Graphic Birth Scene, K’uk’ulkan is Smitten with His Daughter.

To Note: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x Fem!Reader, I Tried To Make The Yucatec Maya & Xhosa Translations/Traditions As Accurate As I Can Get.

Word Count: ~2.6k

Previous | Masterlist

When you had discussed the birthing of your child, you had hesitated at the suggestion of an underwater birth. It wasn’t that you were against it, you just feared the unknown of your baby and questioned whether or not she would be able to breathe underwater, by gills or osmosis. You had spent many hours pacing back and forth while Namora tried to calm you down. Ultimately it was Tlalli who had sat you down and managed to reassure you. Which is how you ended up floating beneath the deep waves, K’uk’ulkan wrapped around your back and letting you squeeze his hands in a white knuckled grip.

You were trying not to break his fingers with your grip, but each time a contraction hit you your knuckles clenched in a strained grip while you tried not to scream. Why the fuck did women get pregnant when it hurt this much!? K’uk’ulkan pressed his face into your neck and whispered encouraging words in your ear, trying to soothe and lessen your pain.

“Focus on your breathing, In k'iino’,” He softly called, feeling your entire body quiver. You felt like snapping back at him that you didn’t know how to, when you breathed through your skin now, but your next contraction stole any words you might say. A strangled moan echoed through the water as Akna, a renowned Talokanil midwife, checked the progress of your labor.

“Tell me I’m close because I just want this baby out of me,” You rasped out. Akna checked and clicked her tongue, eyeing you.

“Would you like to start pushing, my queen.” You nearly felt like shouting at her.

“YES!” You howled, your fingers clenching K’uk’ulkan’s once more. You were half convinced that your body was going to split in half with the way pain was erupting along your flesh. To K’uk’ulkan, you screams of pain, the way you clenched his fingers, and the writhes of your body were something he never wished to see or hear again. Why did something so beautiful as bringing a child to life, have to cause you so much pain?

You couldn’t quite tell how long you had been pushing, trying to get this baby out of your body, but her first squeal was music to your ears. You would have collapsed back against K’uk’ulkan’s chest if you hadn’t been floating underwater, but he did cradle your limb body with his entire devotion. He nuzzled your neck, telling how proud he was while Akna swiftly handed you your daughter. The umbilical was still attached as she was pressed into your chest, but all you could stare at was her ankles.

“We are in so much trouble,” You whispered in horror, clutching your daughter to your chest and trembling in realization. K’uk’ulkan was immediately standing to attention at your words.

“What is it, In k'iino’, what is wrong?” He urgently pressed, his eyes glossing over both you and the newborn infant cradled within your arms. You carefully pulled up one of her legs to reveal a winged ankle.

“How am I supposed to keep track of her when she can fly!?” You whispered, your gaze turning to his in horror. “Ancestors, Ch'ah Toh Almehen, she could—“ K’uk’ulkan took your chin and pressed his thumb against your lower lip.

“Calm down, Y/N,” He reassured you, sliding his free arm to your waist. “You think you are alone in raising our child?” You blinked at him, worry still clear on your face. K’uk’ulkan smiled at you before pointing out one glaring fact that surely would reassure you. “See how our daughter breathes, my queen? She is one with the ocean and our people will gladly help watch over her. She has the sea to guide her.”

Looking down at your daughter, you did notice that she was breathing perfectly fine despite having no gills upon her neck and shoulders. Snuggled against your chest, your daughter gazed at you with eyes just like yours and skin and hair just like her fathers. She was sleepily blinking at you, the little wings on her feet feebly flapping. All that worry over nothing. You lifted a finger and traced her cheek, smiling when her little baby fist reached for yours. The moment tiny fingers wrapped around one of your own, dread filled you once more.

“Ch'ah Toh Almehen?” You asked, your head ever so slowly turning to face your husband. He was frowning once again.

“What is it?”

“I’m pretty sure she got your strength.” You replied meekly, trying not to wince at the strength of the fingers grasping your own. It was going to take all of Talokan to raise this little one, you were sure of it.

“Be at peace, Namora,” You spoke while your hands secured the fabric around your chest and back. “There is no place safer than Wakanda and our home, and should anything happen? We both know the little devil will just take off on her own.” You could have sworn Namora was reliving Yuritzi’s last incident in which she had managed to sneak out and fly off. It had taken at least an hour to track her down and return to your arms. That was only one of the many incidents that had happened since she had learned how to fly.

How ironic that your daughter learned how to fly before walking.

“Besides,” You continued. “You’ll be by my side the entire time and Abha will be with us as well.” Abha, an Orca that had taken to you, was obsessed with Yuritzi and at this point you were fairly certain that the deadly marine animal would kill to protect your daughter.

K’uk’ulkan was already in Wakanda at Birnin Zana with Attuma, meeting with Ramonda for a yearly alliance talk. You hadn’t been home since you left after the battle that nearly killed you, and it was time to visit your family. Certainly it was time that you introduced your daughter to Ramonda and Shuri. You had been on the fence on when to visit them.

For one, your daughter habitually broke out of her crib and cleverly evaded Zyanya and Tlalli who helped you raise her. K’uk’ulkan found her escapes to be endearing and funny, then you had pointed out that she might be able to slip out of the safety of her home. The look of horror on his face had made you laugh as he quickly called for Attuma to discuss making a tracking device for the little princess.

“Very well, my queen,” Namora answered bowing her head as Yuritzi kicked her feet against your stomach and you grunted.

“Yuritzi, In sáasil,” (my light) You sighed, wincing as your stomach ached. “Easy with the kicks, na' is not as indestructible as you.” (Mama) Yuritzi beamed at you, showing off her few teeth she had. No one could ever stay mad at her when she smiled, it was her secret weapon that had Talokan’s toughest warriors melting. Double checking that Yuritzi was strapped firmly to your chest and wouldn’t escape, you looked to Namora. “Shall we?”

“Yes.” You both moved to the water and began swimming to the mouth of the cavern. From there you met up with Abha, and began the trek across the ocean to Wakanda. You could tell you were getting close to the boarder of the country you once called home, hearing the subtle hum of the scanners that now graced the waterway entrance. K’uk’ulkan was a lesson well learned.

Approaching the barrier, Abha surfaced to reveal your and Namora’s forms to the border guards. The both stood to attention and you called out to them.

“Would you care to let us through?” You requested, keeping one hand on Yuritzi’s back in the event she got excited and wanted a look of her own. The guards immediately recognized who you were, of course, they would never forget their princess’s face… but they clearly weren’t expecting you. Regardless of their surprise, you were allowed through and surely your mother and the Dora Milaje would be notified. You’d never be able to surprise your mother. The question was… would she inform K’uk’ulkan?

Abha swam up to the fish market and parked herself near the other Orca’s currently playing with some children.

“They are having the time of their life.” You commented as you and Namora slipped from Abha’s side. Namora raised an eyebrow.

“The children?”

“The Orca’s,” You replied dryly with a soft giggle. While you and Namora were watching the children and Orca’s, who Abha was quick to join with a squeal and click, Ayo came striding over flanked by two other Dora.

“Greetings, Queen Y/N,” Aye spoke formally. “Queen Ramonda welcomes you back to Wakanda.”

“Hello Ayo, good to see you again,” You greeted warmly, rubbing Yuritzi’s back as she squirmed around to try and look at who you were speaking to. Ayo nodded her chin before her dark eyes dropped to the bundle of squirming limbs strapped to your chest.

“And who is this?” She questioned. You smiled and looked down at Yuritzi who was giving you a pleading face mixed with one of impatience. You stroked your fingers through her dark hair.

“This is my daughter, Yuritzi,” You explained, “and she is a little escape artist with a proclivity to fly away from her own mother.” As you spoke, Yuritzi beamed at you and squealed, several babbling sounds erupting from her mouth. “Would you mind directing us to where K’uk’ulkan and my mother are?”

“It would be our pleasure,” Ayo agreed before turning around and leading you to a new royal talon fighter. Namora was distrustful of the fighter, and you had to reassure her that it would not harm her, before she even entertained the idea of allowing you and Yuritzi on board. Even then, with you sitting calmly and playing with your daughter as the ship brought you to the citadel, Namora remained on high alert. By the time the royal talon fighter touched down outside the citadel, Yuritzi was passed out on your chest, positively exhausted from the brief moment of excitement from being away from home for the first time.

“Queen Ramonda is meeting with K’uk’ulkan and Attuma within the council chambers,” Ayo explained as you walked down familiar halls.

“And my sister?” You asked, your thoughts wandering to Shuri.

“The princess is in her lab.” The warrior explained, coming to a stop just outside the doors. “You should know, Queen Y/N, I do not think that Queen Ramonda nor K’uk’ulkan will be happy that you are here.”

You snorted as your lips twitched.

“Why does every seem to be forgetting the Queen part of Queen Y/N?” You asked with a tilt of your head. Ayo stared at you with her usual cool blank expression.

“They will be done momentarily.” You nodded at Ayo before moving towards the windows to look out the windows. Yuritzi stirred against your chest, her little fist pressing against your chest. You patted her back and hummed her back to sleep, you were still humming quietly when the doors behind you opened and you heard the familiar voice of your mother.

“…considering that my daughter still has not…” You glanced over your shoulder as Ramonda trailed off the moment she caught sight of you standing by the window. You smiled.

“Hello, mama,” You greeted warmly. While Ramonda stared at you as if she could not believe her eyes, K’uk’ulkan was striding towards you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here!? And without guards!? What of Yuritzi? The little one will escape! You know nothing holds her in! What if she—“ You turned in place mid sentence, revealing your daughter sleeping against your chest.

“My sea, if you would kindly lower your voice, or you shall wake her up.” You told K’uk’ulkan watching as his entire attention was diverted to the sleeping baby.

“In ujo’,” (My moon) He breathed, a hand automatically reaching up to caress Yuritzi’s midnight tuffs of hair. His eyes rose to meet yours and silent conversation passed between you. You sighed.

“I was feeling cooped up and figured that it was time for her to meet her other family.” You explained in English before nodding your head to Namora. “Namora was with us the entire time and besides, you think I’ll leave her with anyone else? The little escape artist will disappear in under five minutes.”

K’uk’ulkan sighed, knowing that you were technically correct, but wished that you had a full guard to escort you. Even with Talokan’s good relation with Wakanda, he was still highly protective of you and your daughter within the ocean. So he leaned his forehead against yours and nuzzled his nose with yours.

“Forgive me, my sun, I only imagine the worst when you are not surrounded by our people.” K’uk’ulkan murmured, his lips brushing against yours. At his soft and gentle words, Yuritzi stirred against your chest and drowsily opened her eyes. At first she blinked at you with her adorable grin, but then she seemed to realize who was standing in front of you, and let out a piercing shriek, her arms waving in your face. You took a baby fist to the jaw and winced. K’uk’ulkan was on her before you even had a chance to react. “Do not despair my moon, your papa is here.”

Rolling your eyes as K’uk’ulkan began unstrapping your squirming child from your chest, you glanced at Ramonda and saw that she had finally collected herself.

“Apologies for the shrieks, she get’s very excited every time she sees her father,” You explained as K’uk’ulkan hefted her up with his hands, a glowing smile on his face as Yuritzi squealed with laughter, her ankle wings fluttering with excitement.

“You have a child,” Ramonda softly spoke as if she couldn’t believe her eyes. K’uk’ulkan settled Yuritzi against his chest, holding onto her firmly so she didn’t make yet another break for it. He could withstand Yuritzi’s baby punches much better than your.

“Yes,” You answered, reaching up to brush a few of Yuritzi’s wayward curls from her face. “This is Yuritzi, and she is an absolute terror.”

“Yuritzi,” Ramonda repeated, looking at her granddaughter with a smile.

“Our Preciosa waal is as you count, eight months old and already able to sneak away from her mother.” (Precious daughter) You gave K’uk’ulkan a glare for how proud he seemed of that fact. His cheeky grin in response indicated he knew exactly why you were glaring at him. The absolute cheek!

“She get’s that from you, you know.” You griped, your eyes dropping to Yuritzi’s ankle wings. You then addressed your mother. “She figured out how to use her wings to get around before she even knew how to crawl. She’s an absolute menace to track down when she get’s out. I literally have to put a leash on her so she doesn’t get out.”

“Reminds me of a certain daughter of mine,” Ramonda countered, her eyebrow arched. K’uk’ulkan began chuckling while you huffed and then pressed a kiss against the side of your head, nuzzling your hair.

“Like mother like daughter, no?”

“Do you like having a place to sleep at night?” You countered, giving your husband a look. AKA: do you like sleeping next to me? Because if you do, I suggest you stop. K’uk’ulkan blinked at you, mirth still clear in his eyes.

“Very much so, In reina,” He replied cheekily.

“Then stop tempting fate, Ulwandle lwam,” (My sea) You told him firmly. “Now,” You turned back to Ramonda. “Ayo said that Shuri was in her lab? I believe I am due for a ‘I told you so’.”

“Indeed,” Ramonda confirmed. “We shall visit her, and while we walk, you must tell me all there is to know about my granddaughter.” As you waked towards Shuri’s lab, you told your mother everything there was to know about Yuritzi, including her superhuman abilities that tested your abilities to be her parent. Even after all this time, Ramonda had remained hesitant about K’uk’ulkan being your husband, let alone an ally of Wakanda. But hearing you talk about your daughter and watching the mutant man/god, it became painfully clear that while the moon does influence the tide, so can the sun… and you were K’uk’ulkan’s bright star.

Date Published: 7/30/23

Last Edit: 4/5/23

Previous | Masterlist

#k'ul'kulkan #namor #namor x y/n #namor fanfiction #namor of talokan #namor x reader

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georgiapeach30513 · 1 year

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A Little at a Time, Part 4

Summary: life in Boston isn’t what you thought it would be

Pairings: Andy Barber X Reader

Rating: mild

Warnings: language, mentions of cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 3.4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Alright,” Poppy stands in front of the TV, blocking your view as she grabs up the remote, and clicks it off. Your eyes turn up to meet her in anger. How dare she distract your streaming. “Enough. Fucking enough. You need to get off this damn couch. You need to shower. Clean up your shit, and get out there and get a job.”

“I have savings. Can you hand that back, and move?” You make pitiful little grabby hands at her, puckering out your bottom lip as much as possible. “Please.”

“No. I don’t care that you have savings. You’re not wasting them away because you’re laying on this couch eating…what the fuck is that?” Sitting up on the couch, you shrug, reaching for the monstrous cake you had delivered, and were just eating off it. “Peaches, I can’t…I opened my house up to you because you needed it. But wallowing in your self pity isn’t going to help anything. Do you want to talk?”

“About what?” The cake was delicious. It didn’t take any time at all to show up to your new address. “This is delicious. It’s birthday cake flavor. Hey!” She grabs the fork from you, and sits on the coffee table directly in your face. “What?”

“You broke up with your fiance.”

“Yeah, well, he was cheating on me. Seemed like the most logical thing to do,” you take a deep gulp, and look in your lap. “What was I supposed to do? And now, everyone in town hates me. I’m the bad guy. I’m the one who knew what he was doing. I ignored the signs, because I really wanted to have my perfect wedding. And I…well, I have been refusing sex from him, but according to everyone else I was fucking Lee every chance I could.”

“Hmm,” Poppy sighs, looking at you, “Your perfect wedding, but not your perfect marriage,” your face turns up in pain as you let your tears fall from your eyes. She was right. You were so focused on that stupid wedding, you didn’t take into consideration how your relationship was failing. You would have ended up divorced in a couple of years.

“Did…you don’t have to answer,” she says calmly, reaching for your hand, “Did you want to wait for marriage because it was Cole, and you thought that your virginity would make him not stray? Or is it what you really wanted?” You shrug your shoulders, because you weren’t sure anymore. “Or is it because that’s what good girls do? You know, there’s nothing wrong with sex. There’s nothing wrong with waiting on the right person, or the right time. You’ll know when you know. And your sex life is nobody’s business but yours and your partners. Cole was the one bringing others into your sex life.”

“I shouldn’t have…I mean, if I had sex with him, we could have been together.”

“Honey, sex won’t make a man not stray. If he’s going to shove his cock in someone, he’s going to do just that. No amount of you withholding was going to change that. If you gave in, who’s to say he wouldn’t just go off with another woman anyways? Why are you blaming yourself? Cole did this. Not you. You were faithful, and he wasn’t. That’s on him. Now, I get your need to mourn the relationship that you thought it was. But you can’t keep living like this. You don’t even get out, you’re using the perks of being in a city and having everything delivered. And you stink.”

You start laughing, despite the tears that create saline trails down your face. Using your palm to wipe them away, “I don’t.”

“You do. Take a shower. If you want ice cream, or food, get out and go get it. You’re not the first person to go through a breakup. And you know, if ever there’s anything you want to talk about, I’m here.”

“Our situations are different, Poppy.”

“He took something from you,” you shake your head no, still refusing to believe what you knew to be true. It made things too real. “You did not consent to that. He is the one who messed up, not you. Our situations are different, but I’ll listen,” leaning forward, you wrap your arms around her holding her tight. “Remember, you came here to start a new life. Don’t be afraid to start living. But seriously, you stink.”

There were so many choices of ice cream. Much more than your local grocery store. You stand there dumbfounded, looking down the aisle. You had barely even looked at the selection they had. Cartons, half gallons, pints, bars, popsicles. Too many choices, and no Mayfield ice cream.

Taking a step further down the aisle didn’t help. Weird flavors. Where was the one that was like a death by chocolate? You look up at the ceiling, feeling your emotions get the better of you. It wasn’t the overwhelming feeling of choosing ice cream, it was just being overwhelmed in general. This was nothing like living in Georgia.

You step to the side when a man opens the cooler, reaching in for a pint, and he cocks his head up to look at you, “Are you okay?”

“No. There’s too many choices. And I just want to drown myself in chocolate. It’s colder here. There’s no humidity, and everyone has an accent, and…” righting your head, you turn to look at him, and get more embarrassed. He was handsome. And he wasn’t even looking at you like a crazy person. He was looking at you as if he understood.

“And I’m making a fool of myself. I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m gonna go.”

“What about your ice cream?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Uh,” he walks down the aisle a bit more, grabbing up a pint to hand to you, “And, might I suggest going to the end of this aisle. They have hot fudge, salted caramel, sprinkles, cookie crumbs, whatever you need. Cherries. You like cherries?”

“No. I don’t like what cherries represent. I hate myself,” you groan. You were ready to get out of here, and quit showing your ass to this man. He didn’t know you, and most likely he was going to be glad to be rid of you.

“I don’t know what that means, but if you’re not into this shipped ice cream, there’s a neat little shop a couple of miles from here. They make ice cream in house. They have the weird flavors, but also just your classic. They make these macaron ice cream sandwiches. I went there a lot after my divorce.”

“You? Someone divorced you?” He chuckles, nodding his head. You were unapologetically you. You didn’t seem to have much of a filter, and whatever you were thinking came out of your mouth. “Well, what flavor would you suggest?”

“You said chocolate? They do have a red velvet one, but personally if you’re wanting chocolate, they’ve got one that will rot your teeth out. It’s chocolate ice cream, with swirls of dark chocolate peanut butter, pieces of chocolate cake, chocolate ganache, chocolate sprinkles, and…I think that’s it.”

“What other chocolate thing could you want?”

“Well,” the man laughs, walking down the aisle, and you are drawn to him. You wanted to hear this story, but also stay close to him. “I also asked them to put Nutella and Oreos in it. Adds a bit more of a texture to it.”

“Sounds like a bowl of…”

“Lots of chocolate. You want the address?”

“Yes!”

“Breakup?”

“Yeah. Of epic proportions. I’m stupid.”

“Not from around here, I gather?” It wouldn’t take much to give away how you weren’t from here. All you had to do was open your mouth, and you had that long southern drawl. “I hope the ice cream helps. Here, let me take this pint, and you go ahead and get the real deal. Ask for the Andy special, and they’ll jazz up the Trunchbull.”

“What?”

“It’s a Matilda thing. Lots of chocolate,” giving you a quick wink, you smile at him. It was a shy smile, but it was there.

You ponder in front of the wine selection, knowing little to nothing about wine. You weren’t that big of a drinker. Every day that you left the house, you realized how big this city was. Where you came from was a dry county, and could hardly find any decent amount of alcohol without being judged anyways.

Going to Woody’s was this unspoken secret. It was on the outskirts of town, and if people saw you there, they didn’t mention it. Boston, nobody cared. It was like you were responsible for you, and people left you alone. It was refreshing. Nobody here knew you, and didn’t care how you grew up.

“Here,” the ice cream man says, coming up beside you. Grabbing a bottle of red wine to hand to you. “Brunello di Montalcino. Great breakup wine.”

You stare at him a moment, noticing just how brilliantly blue his eyes were, before bashfully looking away, “How was the ice cream?”

“Chocolate coma,” you giggle, looking over the wine. “I got the Andy special. That you?” He nods his head, and you quickly offer him your own name. “So what’s special about this wine?”

“Just gets you in your feels. Perfect if someone chea…well, it’s good. Play you some music, drink your wine slowly. Get in your feels and just…have you tried crying?”

“A few times. Self loathing, uh, ate my weight in chocolate, partly in thanks to you. Spent too much money on food delivery. Let’s see, blocked his number. Screaming. Screaming helps. Unblocked his number. Tried to twist my ring around on my finger, just to remember it wasn’t there anymore. Did I mention screaming?”

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Andy wasn’t sure why you were so personable, but it was adorable. You weren’t even offering him a one night stand. You were just you. Rambled on a bit, but you weren’t closed off even the tiniest amount. “Married?”

“Engaged. Broke up the night of my bachelorette party, if you could call it that. My cousin, she held a…I can’t tell you that. She was very mad. Angry. Dogs get mad, people get angry. That’s what my Memaw always says. You know, I don’t even miss him.”

“So what’s the wine for?”

“I’m pissed off that I wasted time on him. Thank goodness, we didn’t have a baby. I would have been trapped with him. It’s like waking up and realizing that the past few years have been a lie. A lie you told yourself, your family, the world…well, the town. Mad at yourself because even though you weren’t happy, you forced yourself to be happy, because….”

“It’s just easier,” you look over towards Andy, and give him the first genuine, non tearful smile you could muster. “I can tell you, it’s much easier on the other side. Lying to yourself and everyone around you is a lot of work. It could always be worse.”

“That’s what my Papaw told me the day I left Georgia. It could. I could have given it all up to him, and not feel good about myself,” you and your word vomit. It was utterly ridiculous how you could talk to this stranger easier than you could your own fiance. “I’m sorry, Andy. I’m going to go drink this expensive bottle of wine, and let me drown in my sorrows.”

“No, you’re going to get in your feels. You’re going to let…Taylor Swift?”

“Eh, she’s not bad, but I really like some Zach Bryan, Tyler Childers, Cody Jinks, Colter Wall?”

“No idea who they are. Just, get in your feels. Let the wine and music take over, and keep his number blocked. You moved a long way to forget him,” Andy was right. Giving him a wave goodbye, you head to check out, and Andy stares far too long watching you retreat.

He hopes that there was going to be another chance to randomly run into you, just so he could talk to you again. He didn’t want to be too forward and ask for your number, although it is really what he wanted to do. He held out hope that he would run into you again, and the next time, he was going to ask for your number.

“Poppy!” You whine, slamming your head into your arms. It was way too loud in this bar. She drug you along, even in your baggy sweats and hoodie. She was working, so you didn’t know why you needed to be here anyways. It was pointless. You would much rather be binge watching your favorite show, drinking the rest of your expensive wine, and you had another Andy’s special in the freezer.

“I don’t want to be here,” you say, curling yourself even more into a ball, and right at the bar.

“Would you stop it,” she hisses. You were such a baby when it came to going out at night. “You are embarrassing. I thought it would be nice for you to get out, and meet some people.”

“At a bar?”

“Yeah, it’s what some people call fun.”

“I’m not fun. I want ice cream and Dean Winchester, is that so hard to understand?” Poppy rolls her eyes, walking to the other end of the bar to take someone’s order. You were infuriating. You had at least started showering regularly again. Migrated into your bedroom instead of in the living room where she had to look at your pitiful self.

“What’ll it be Andy?” She asks, already filling up his glass, and placing it on the bar. Jolting her hip out to stare at him. “Why are you here?” He shrugs his shoulders, his eyes scanning around the bar. “Who are you looking for?”

“Just some girl. She’s new in town. I keep running into her, and…” he stops when he sees you slumped over on the bar. He couldn’t be sure if that was you, but whoever that girl was, she was not in a happy place. She was miserable.

“No,” Poppy answers shortly. She shakes her head, rapidly in disagreement. It’s not that she didn’t like Andy, and in fact you and Andy made perfect sense, but it was the fact that you were still not over Cole. “That is my cousin,” she mentions your name, and Andy perks up. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What did I do?”

“You’re the Boston asshole she keeps running into?”

“She called me an asshole?” Furrowing his brows, he looks down at the bar. Poppy had hurt his feelings, and it actually didn’t have anything to do with you. “I didn’t mean…I was just…”

“I’m calling you the asshole. She just said you were hot and nice,” just as quickly as his face had fallen, he gets the biggest smile, and Poppy hits his shoulder. “No.”

“What did I do?”

“You’re a man. She’s…different. She’s special. Not like any of these girls at the bar willing to go home with the first man, and wanting a one night stand.”

“I don’t want a one night stand.”

“She’s as sweet as her nickname suggests. Peach Blossom is a baby. She’s never been out of her hometown, she just recently broke up with a serial cheater, she’s not in a good place. I haven’t seen her smile since she’s been here. She needs time, Andy. She doesn’t need someone like you oozing in your tentacles, promising her big things that you can’t ever fulfill, because you’re a man.”

“That’s so nice of you, Pops. I’m glad you think I ooze. And by the way, I’ve seen her smile,” Poppy looks over at you, and you are leaning over the bar, trying to get a bottle of beer, but James the bartender slaps your hand, and gives you one himself. “You know me. If she needs time, I can back away. I’m not like other men.”

“You’ve moved on, and she hasn’t. When I tell you that she’s different, she’s different. Just…”

“I’ve got it. I’ll back off. Especially now that I know where to find her. You can’t keep her locked away forever. I’m just asking for a date. And honestly, who would you rather her be with? Me, or any of these other men here? Look, there’s Sy getting him another one for the weekend. Would you look at that, Jax with two women. I came here to look for her specifically. And I will leave, walk away, and wait for her, when she is ready. You brought her to a bar, and she looks miserable. At least at the grocery store, she was comfortable enough to talk to me. She smiled, and it’s the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”

Poppy purses her lips, while she stares at you. You were in fact miserable. Had your hood on your head, and hands in your pocket, while you stared at the top shelf liquor. You never were a fan of bars, or going on. You much preferred something quiet, and staying in. Just like Andy. He only came here after his divorce.

He only drowned his sorrows in booze after he learned of Laurie’s infidelity. Telling Poppy he was just happy they never had a kid together. Andy had a good job. He was a good man. He would have done anything for Laurie. Stayed with her for far too long, even though it was a loveless marriage. But cheating on him with his best friend, he couldn’t forgive.

Of all the men that Poppy had met in Boston, Andy was the best. It was almost as if Cole cheating on you, had brought you here and on a pathway to meet Andy. The only person you had even mentioned talking to was the very man that was sitting in front of Poppy telling her that he would wait until you were ready.

“Andy, I’m not going to tell you no anymore. I’m going to say, let things naturally happen how they will. I’m also going to tell her to go home because she wants to finish off the bottle of wine that the hot man picked out for her, and watch Supernatural. I’m going to let her do that, and to quit pushing her to get out there. It seems she already has. Just don’t…don’t push her. She already had a man in her life that did that. She won’t be getting another one. She’s special. She’s younger than me, and I always wished I could be just like her.”

“And I’m going to leave the rest of my beer here, and I’m going to go home, and work on a case. Give me a minute to leave.”

You take a swig of the beer, and set it down. Pushing it away from you in distaste. It wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t even want to be here. You wanted to daydream about the hot man you kept running into, while your favorite show played in the background. Focusing on Poppy when she finally stands in front of you, “Peach Blossom, go home. I probably won’t see you until tomorrow morning, but you don’t have to be here. I’m not going to drag you around anymore.”

“Really?”

“Really. You’ve been slowly getting out, and trying. I still want your goal to be finding a job. There’s a local daycare that is in need of a Pre-K teacher. There’s a start,” you nod your head, pressing your hands on the bar before pushing your stool back. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right, I needed to get out. Getting out wasn’t so bad,” you smirk, and Poppy is now well aware exactly why. She definitely approves, and is thankful it wasn’t some Masshole that had got your attention, but someone like Andy Barber. Smiling because you two really did make sense. And Andy now knows how to get in touch with you.

“Have fun with Dean Winchester,” you wave your hand, and turn to leave. Thankful that you didn’t have to pretend anymore. You could relax, and think. Think of a life where you had met Andy before Cole. Think of a life where Andy was actually interested in you, and didn’t just think you were crazy and heartbroken. And then there were visions of Dean. It was shaping up to be a nice Friday evening.

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Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedharleys @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @kittycatcait219 @sarahdonald87 @patzammit @elrw24 @redbloodedgurl @cjand10

#a little at a time #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber fics #andy barber fic #defending jacob fanfiction

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storiesbyrhi · 1 year

Text

Angel of the First Degree - Chapter 14: Nineteen

Eddie Munson x Chubby!Reader 4484 words Series Masterlist

Warnings: Anxiety; fatphobia including internalised; drug use; bullying; body issues; discussion of body function and fluids; period shame/stigma; disclosure of sexual assault (chapter 2); disordered eating and thoughts of food; shitty/abusive/critical parents; porn magazines; smut; reference to suicide (specifically Virginia Woolf’s); no beta; grief/mourning; verbal fighting; warnings updated each chapter

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson finds you in the midst of a panic attack, it is the beginning of something. A fic featuring body and sex positivity, Eddie in a dress, soft small moments, scary big truths, and all the usual special feelings you’d expect from one of my stories.

Chapter Summary: Happy birthday, angel.

The trailer was cold, but the cinnamon eggnog was absolutely doing the trick. Your birthday had begun not with a sleep in, but with a puppy dog boyfriend nuzzling into your back as you tried for one anyway.

“Eddie,” you groaned. “Stop,”

“It’s your birthday,” he whispered, like his cold nose wasn’t an alarm clock.

You grumbled and ignored him, let him try to coax you awake with sweet kisses. Eventually, it took the promise of eggnog to pull you from bed and out into the living room. Eddie excitedly sat you down on the couch, a pile of gifts sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

“Don’t open them yet,” he said as he went to make breakfast. Coffee and toast. Eggnog and Eggos.

You had the trailer to yourselves; Wayne swapped a couple of shifts over the week so he could take you and Eddie out to a special birthday slash ‘congrats on making it through the year alive’ dinner. Shift work was brutal, but he did what he had to.

“Alright, sweet angel, love of my life, a beacon of beauty,” Eddie announced, taking the empty plates back to the kitchen. He came to sit on the floor between you and the coffee table. “Nineteen,”

“Nineteen,” you echoed.

“Big year,” he sing-songed. You just nodded and shrugged a little. “I’m proud of you,”

“Stop,”

“Nope.” He sat up on his knees and rested his arms across your legs. “Gonna get a little mushy here. You know I like to make you squirm.” Eddie paused to flutter his eyelashes and make you blush. “So, uh, there’s a million fucking things I could say,” he started, hands moving a little. “But then we’d be here all day and I have plans,” and he pointed up at you, “for you, angel. So, I’ve shortlisted it down to two things…” Eddie suddenly stood, spreading his arms out. You knew he was about to use his drama club voice. “Two special birthday declarations, if you will,” he said.

“You’re making me nervous,” you whispered, pulling your legs up, thighs to your chest, and arms around yourself.

Eddie smiled softly. “Trust me. Firstly, change is good.”

Change is good?

“Ahh… okay?” you said.

Eddie smirked, then nodded. “Before you, before me and you, my whole… schtick… was that I shouldn’t have to change to fit into the world. Told everyone, you know? Like, don’t change for the man. Don’t change for teachers and bosses and whatever… But, I am willing to concede that I was wrong. Change is good.”

The special sarcastic emphasis whenever Eddie used the word ‘teachers’ still amused you.Teee-chuuuurs.

“But I’ve watched you change, and not to fit into the world better or ‘cause anyone told you to do it, but ‘cause you wanted to. Your change is… growth. Yeah. You’ve grown so much and it’s been fucking cool to watch. And, I think, it’s made me change too. Hopefully, it’s growth… But, yeah, that’s birthday declaration number uno. Change is good, and when more change happens, that’s gonna be good too.”

You had that glassy-eyed expression that meant a million and one thoughts were fighting for screentime in your brain. Eddie didn’t need you to respond though, so he continued.

“And second… It’s not like you’ve gotta love yourself tobeloved… That’s a pretty messed up idea, really. But, there’s a whole lotta something in letting yourselfbeloved. And, I didn’t get that for a long time. Kinda made it hard for people to love me my whole life, you know? Then you gave me a big ol’ spoonful of my own medicine and… yeah… I got it. I saw that you, like, didn’t fucking know how to be loved. Didn’t matter how unambiguous I was about it…”

Eddie stopped talking and his expression went blank. You watched him stare into space for a few seconds before shaking his head and hands.

“Fuck, doesn’t matter,” he mumbled. “Okay, so there’s three birthday declarations, because this one is really two things. There’s: thank you for showing me it’s, like, okay to accept… love…” The more emotional Eddie got the less momentum his speech had. “And, uh, I’ve seen… how hard it’s been for you to trust me and let me…” He gestured around vaguely. “You know, yeah, love you… So, thank you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I… I kind of just really love loving you?”

You hadn’t realised you were crying, you'd been so focused on Eddie. He knelt in front of you, gently moving your legs from being pulled up, to resting on either side of him as he leaned into the couch, into your lap. Softly, Eddie reached up and held your face, wiping the tears away with the pads of his thumbs.

“I love you so much that it feels like it hurts my bones sometimes. I need you to know that,” he whispered. He was begging.

You nodded and parted your lips ready to speak, but your throat had gone dry.

“Yeah? ‘Kay?” Eddie prompted.

Again, all you could offer was a nod.

Eddie’s big brown Bambi eyes searched yours for the level of understanding and faith he needed. He wanted to know that you trusted him and loved him like he loved you. That you trusted his love to be unconditional. That you had forgiven him for being brash and reckless with your feelings, even if those moments were so rare.

After a few moments, you tried for words again. “It’s in my bones too,” you whispered.

Eddie breathed out through his nose then leaned up and kissed you hard. “I love you,” he said with his forehead pressed to yours.

Sniffling, you replied, “I love you too,”

“I’m sorry I made you cry… on your birthday,”

“S’okay… It’s good crying,”

“Can I give you your presents now?”

You laughed, nodding. Eddie smiled and pressed kisses all over your face, making exaggerated ‘mwah’ sounds with each and every kiss.

“Alright, so how we doing this? Small to big? Big to small? Stupidest first? Thing that induced the most fuckin’ stress last?” he asked.

“Uhhh… what about randomly? I’ll juuuust… point,” you suggested, extending your index finger toward a small rectangular gift.

“Cuteandchaotic,” Eddie said.

In unison then, you both exclaimed, “Just like you,”

Eddie barked out laughter and shined that manic grin that made you think of raccoons sneaking food from pet bowls left on back porches.

“Loved that,” he chirped, handing you the gift.

It was a book, published the year before, that you had read the first chapter of standing in a book store. The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood had come to your attention when you heard two of the English teachers at school arguing about it. Apparently, it simply was not appropriate for students to be reading, not even the most mature of the Seniors. Eddie watched you smile as you unwrapped it.

“I remember you telling me about the school blacklistin’ it. Figured any banned book was probably worth the investment,” he explained.

Next, from the pile, you pointed to a larger but similarly shaped gift. Unsurprisingly, it was another book, however it was non-fiction and one that would have been in the course syllabus had you accepted the offer to The University of Chicago. If it was suspicious that Eddie knew about the dense, academic book, you didn’t realise that at the time.

Upon your next choice, Eddie licked his lips and you couldn’t tell if he was nervous or excited. “Um, okay, this one is… It’s a fucking risk. If you’re not… into it, that’s totally fine. Say the world, it’s gone. We can swap it for something else or just never talk about it again… Whatever.”

The paper was off by the time Eddie had finished his disclaimer.

Oh.

Cutesy letters. Lilac lace and fluffy faux fur. Cuffs, collar, and tail. It was the kitten playset that had captured your attention in the adult store. Yours, though, was customised. The colours were your favourite and the collar’s heart-shaped tag read ‘angel.’

“Put me out of my misery here,” Eddie mumbled.

When you looked up at him, the expression on your face must have said more than you thought. He smiled and nodded once.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed. As you lifted the kitten ears up and placed the band snugly on top of your head, you saw the attention it commended from Eddie.

“Reeeealll cute.”

It was your turn to ask, “Yeah?”

“Uh-huh… Fuck. Yep. That’s… that’s doing it for me. Here. Lemme go hide them in case Wayne comes home early and I gotta explain that.”

Giggling, you let Eddie take the set from you, pouting when he took the headband too.

“Oh, believe me, this hurts me as much as it hurts you,” he joked.

Another book – The Vampire Lestat. “You liked Interview with the Vampire, right?” Eddie checked, but he knew you did.

There were two gifts left on the table. One was a tiny sphere shape, awkwardly wrapped. The other was another book-shaped object.

Pointing at the small sphere, Eddie nodded, happy with the order of the final two gifts. The sphere was a plastic container that arcade games spat out. Usually, they held plastic rings or miniature figurines of cartoon characters. Not this one. It had one piece of paper inside, folded in half twice.

A messy love heart was drawn, an arrow struck in one side piercing the other. It had a kind of punk energy to it. Inside was written one word, 'angel.' It wasn’t Eddie’s handwriting, nor the type of hearts he scribbled in cards.

You looked up at Eddie and tilted your head with confusion. That’s when he pulled his shirt up over his head and held his arm out to you. On his right arm, above the bats, sat a very fresh tattoo. Eddie had the heart and 'angel' inked to his skin.

“Got it yesterday.”

You didn’t know what to say. It was so… Permanent. Public. Loud and tangible proof of shameless love.

“Eddie…”

“Wayne already told me I’m an idiot so-”

“No! No, that’s not… I wasn’t gonna say that… It’s… You love me,”

“Head over heels.”

You reached out to touch but stopped yourself, knowing the skin was raw. “I love it,” you told him. “I want a matching one.”

Eddie chuckled. “Absolutely not,”

“Wha-”

But before you could respond, he’d picked up the final gift and handed it to you. “The chaos worked. This is the special one.”

There was some kind of veneration in the act of wrapping the gift. The folds were crisper. The tape stuck on cleanly, running parallel to the side of the rectangle. In return, you unwrapped it carefully and gently.

Inside the wrapping was a box; you took the lid off and moved aside the tissue paper to find a thin, handmade book. The cover felt almost like leather but not quite, perhaps vinyl. The pages had been stitched to the spine. It was imperfect and profoundly lovely.

As you flicked through the pages, you realised it was a poetry book. The first thought you had was that Eddie had found an obscure little book of rhymes somewhere equally obscure. That was cool. Then you noticed a pattern in the poem’s titles. Then you recognised the handwriting, Eddie’s sharp angles on their best behaviour.

Eddie had been watching your face and saw the moment the lightbulb illuminated. Your breathing hitched and began to chew your bottom lip.

“At the start of the year, you gave me a list of words. I think the first few I wrote, I was just… writing. Like, thought they’d maybe end up as lyrics or whatever. I don’t know. By the fourth or fifth, I figured out I was writing to you… I, uh, I don’t know if they’re any good. Normally workshop all my shit with the guys… But… yeah,”

“They’re for me,”

“That, they are,”

“And you made this?”

Eddie puffs out a little laugh. “Yeah. I don’t know if you’ve seen it yet, but Wayne is really fucking good at sewing. He’s got some conspiracy about everything being made to break so everyone has to buy more… which he’s probably right about… but he learnt to sew so that his clothes last longer. And mine. He helped me figure out how to stitch the book together so it looked nice and would actually hold. See here-” Eddie took the book and opened it to show you the inner stitching. “Apparently this is a special kind of stitch? Holds tight? I don’t know. Think he liked doing it, so,” Eddie finished with a shrug.

You couldn’t remember how many words were on the list, but you suspected that there was a poem for each of them. Seeing them again, next to each other, threw you into the memory of writing that list. Thinking of Eddie in your bedroom. Feeling his empathy when you’d not been shown kindness for so long.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to say what’s in my head,”

“That’s okay,” Eddie replied, letting you take the book back and hold it close to your heart. “Just happy you don’t think it’s stupid,”

“It’s not. None of this is. Eddie…”

“Come ‘ere.”

Eddie pulled you up and hugged you tightly to his chest. Your arms were folded between you, hands still clutching the book. For a moment, he rocked you side to side, kissing your head periodically.

“I love you,” you mumbled into his shirt.

“I love you too. Do you-”

He was cut off by the trilling of the phone. Eddie let you go and walked to answer. “Hello ‘ello?”

You looked down at the coffee table covered in your most precious things.

“Yes! Yeah, that’s me. Um, can you just give me one sec. Just one… Yeah. Babe?”

Lost in thought.

“Babe!” Eddie repeated a little louder.

Your attention shot to him.

“I gotta take this. You want to find homes for all that? Then we can go back to bed?”

None the wiser, you scooped up your gifts and trotted off to the bedroom, happily putting them where they would belong. It was enough of a distraction that you didn’t catch a word of the phone call between Eddie and Eve.

“Sorry I couldn’t talk last night, but ah, look, I’d normally get you in for a trial,” Eve said, hesitation in her voice.

Eddie could hear the typical sounds of a bar in the background. He didn’t want to trip up that early in the conversation, but he couldn’t exactly lie. “I know, but I’m still in Hawkins at the moment,”

“Yeah, yeah, John said… Look, I know how my sister can be. Gotta be half a dozen times I could have said something to Cath on John’s behalf. Always felt a bit shit about it. Guess I owe him one…One. You get me? No promises. Gotta prove yourself once you’re here, but I’ll give you a shot.”

Eddie didn’t know the first thing about John’s ex-wife’s family dynamics, but he was glad they seemed to be as messy as every other family in America. It had afforded him this one shot.

“Yes! Thank you, ma’am! I promise, I’m not gonna fuck it up,”

“Yeah, alright. Call me when you get to town,”

“I will. I will. Thank you,”

“And, kid? Don’t ever fuckin’ call me ‘ma’am’ again.”

After silently punching the air in victory, Eddie found you bundled up in bed, still holding the book of poems. When he stripped entirely and got in with you, you put it on the bedside table and let him pull you into him.

“Soooooooo,” Eddie said, the addition of many letter Os a giveaway that he was about to saysomethingout of the ordinary. “I know you said you’d, you know, keep me updated, but… just wanna check in…”

You knew exactly what he was talking about. The compact vibrator, once purchased, had remained in your possession. You wanted to acclimatise yourself to it before Eddie was invited into the equation. He pouted about it before catching himself. It made total sense that you wanted to know your body’s reaction to it before having an audience.

Playing dumb, you asked, “Updated ‘bout what?”

There was a twinkle in your eye and you’d angled your head just a little too much. Eddie figured you were fucking with him.

“Normally I’d play along here, babe, but I’m dying to know. S’not like you haven’t had a chance to try it at least once or twice.”

Huh.Yeah, he was right. There had been an increase in the amount of time you’d had alone in the trailer. Eddie seemed to be popping out at all hours to deal. You’d seen his stash spill out of the cupboard and take up more room than it ever had before too.

Eddie realised you hadn’t thought about it. Before your mind could think too much about it, he cut off your thoughts with, “Always try to sell a bit more before Christmas. Get Wayne something nice.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but it certainly wasn’t entirely the truth.

You bought it.

Curling locks of Eddie’s hair around your finger, you nuzzled into his neck. “Mmm. ‘Kay, well I have been… playing with it,”

“I beg of you to go on.”

Giggling, you felt how quickly Eddie’s body was responding to the conversation.

“I like it. I think just, like, on the outside. I… um, don’t really like how it feels inside. It’s not… soft enough.” Your cheeks were burning from having to say the words out loud, but there was an electric thrill in saying them too. It wasn’t a ruse to turn Eddie to putty, but when you said, “I think inside is just for you,” he screwed his eyes shut and bit down on his tongue so hard he almost drew blood.

Eddie gave himself a couple of seconds to breathe. “That’s… that’s good, angel. Real good… It’s… good… when you tell me shit like that.” A vocabulary of a true storyteller, yet Eddie was reduced togood.

“Maybe as a thank you for all my presents, I could… show you?”

“Yes. Fuck. I mean, if you want to. I didn’t ask to rush you or anything. But yes. If you’re ready. I’m good when you’re… good…”

You giggled again and wriggled your way from Eddie. He watched you cross the room and drop to your knees to dig through one of your drawers. Underwear, your diary, and a small velvet box Eddie had never asked about. And, the vibrator. That goddamn drawer was a daily test of Eddie’s willpower.

There was no longer hesitation or thought about undressing in front of Eddie. You just did it, then crawled to him without consideration of how your tummy would fall when you got on all fours.

Back under the covers you held the toy in your hands and looked up at Eddie. “Actually… I don’t think I’m… brave enough to show you,”

“That’s okay,” he quickly told you. “Don’t think it’s about being brave either. You’re just not really an exhibitionist… Maybe instead, if you want, we can just do what we normally do and, um, I’ll…”

“Yeah,” you said, understanding the suggestion.

“Yeah?”

“Ah-huh.”

Sometimes, you thought, Eddie had a sixth sense about what you needed and wanted. Or maybe you were just so in tune with each other that you aligned in that way. Whatever it was that made it so was directing Eddie towards tenderness. His movements were unhurried and while deliberate, had an on-brand mess to them. Wet kisses, tickling fingers making you laugh when he hadn’t intended.

As he kissed down your neck, arms, belly, you wondered if he did it – the body worship routine – because he knew it was good for you or because he was truly that obsessed with every inch of you. You let yourself win by deciding it was both, but it was firmly the latter that motivated Eddie. If he couldn’t remember the exact placement of a freckle or predict perfectly how a dress would fall across your tummy and thighs, he devoted himself to revision, re-learning the map of your body until it was as familiar and known as his own.

When you were good and melted into the bed, Eddie kissed your clit goodbye so he could sit up a little. He was going to ask if you were ready, but the hum of the vibrator did the job. Your hands gripped the sheets tighter, and Eddie watched you close your eyes and suck in your bottom lip.

On the lowest setting, the vibrator was still comically loud, but as soon as you felt the coldness of it run up your inner thigh, the noise became inconsequential. Your mouth fell open and your eyebrows pulled together.

Eddie spat down the length of the toy, letting the wet make it glide easier over you. His eyes held steadfast on your face, his gaze only flicking down every so often. When he saw the small shake of your head as the vibrator was held against your clit, he figured it was too much. Instead, Eddie roamed up and down between your folds, barely dipping the vibrator inside but enough to feel the vibrations there too.

When he felt confident enough, Eddie moved back to lay on his front between your legs. He worked in tandem with the toy, steadily building your tolerance to the point that you could have it held against you. Simultaneously, Eddie pressed his index and middle fingers into you; the gentleness was a hot contrast to the relentlessness of the vibrator. Your breathing was erratic and you were whining out all Eddie’s favourite sounds. Whenever he caught his name slip out, small and breathy, he couldn’t help but grin.

Trying to warn him of your impending orgasm, you held a hand up awkwardly, much to Eddie’s amusement.

“S’okay,” he whispered. “I got you.”

The talking…Fuck.

Normally he would talk more because you loved it so much, but the presence of the vibrator had distracted you both.

“Doing so good,’ Eddie said, his own voice reminding him that it existed.

The sappy encouragements and sweet nothings tipped you over the edge. Although entirely real and entirely shattering, your orgasm had been pulled from you quicker and harder than you were used to. Physically blindsided, your chest heaved and toes curled to the cusp of pain.

Eddie licked clean one of, if not his absolute, favourite parts of you – the jelly satin softness of the top inner thigh. He swiftly dropped the vibrator off the bed, gently pushed your legs comfortably together, and came to be at your side.

“Baby,” he near-cooed, brushing hair from your face and wiping the corners of your mouth dry. After giving you a moment of recovery, he frowned at your closed eyes. “Are you okay? What do you need?” he asked, concerned.

Brain still mushy, you couldn’t reply. You thought you nodded, but the movement was little more than a twitch. More than okay, just overwhelmed, you were basking in that little lovely limbo post-orgasm.

Eddie pressed his forehead to your cheek like a cat asking for pats.

“M’good,” you managed to mumble.

Eddie’s head shot up, expecting to see your eyes open. Instead, a tear had formed and had begun its trip down your face. Part instinctive and party ploy to bring you back down quicker, Eddie licked your face, taking the salt tear with him. When you squealed and laughed, he was happy.

“You okay?” he asked again now that you were starting to sit up and look around for some clothes. Eddie, awkward and dramatic, rolled off the bed to collect your pyjamas, throwing them to you.

“Thanks,” you said, pulling the shirt over your head. He put his own sweatpants on and looked at you expectantly. “Oh. Yeah,” you told him. “Sorry,”

“No! No, don’t say sorry. I just… just was checking that, uh, guess that it wasn’t too much?”

“It wasn’t,” you confirmed.

“No?”

“No. It was good. Really good,”

“Yeah? ‘Kay. Good.”

You loved when Eddie got a little bashful, all cute as he climbed in and snuggled into your lap, your thighs plush pillows for his head. After sex, it was either that version of him or the smug one with the stupid grin. The mood was usually dictated by how vulnerable Eddie felt. Trying new things, even when successful, always made him feel like that – exposed and hyperaware of how you felt and the experience you were having.

“You’ll tell me when you wanna try the kitten stuff?” Eddie asked, assuming you’d want the same process - time to play alone.

“No… I think I want you to… do all that… for me,” you said, longer pauses between words than normal. Moments of thoughts and decision-making.

Eddie’s mind went radio silent. He pictured locking you into the lacey cuffs… the tail… he couldn’t… words…

“Eddie?”

“Sorry! Yes. Yes, good. Yep. I can… I can do… that… Sorry. I was, like, picturing… it.”

The tone of his voice made you laugh. “Areyouokay?”

“Totally,” he answered, stretching the word out, making you smile and shake your head. “All good if you change your mind,”

“I won’t… Sometimes it’s easier to just, like, let you do it all. Not like, in a bad way. I mean…” It was hard to put into words. You didn’t mean you wanted to lay flat and not be an active participant. You meant… “I like it when you’re in control. ‘Cause it’s like you know what to do with me, even when I don’t… Sometimesespeciallywhen I don’t. I trust you. You just… Yeah, know what to do. To make it good.”

It wasn’t a big deal for you to say any of it. It was simply the truth. Yet, for Eddie, it felt like something big. He didn’t want to make you feel weird though, so he tried to stay cool.

“I’d say you’re doing a pretty fan-fucking-tastic job at knowing what to do,”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean,”

“Yeah. I get you.”

Carding your fingers through his hair, detangling the odd knot when you came across it, you felt peaceful. “I love you,” you said, the words falling out your mouth naturally, unconsciously.

“Love you too, angel,” and he started to hum a tune you didn’t recognise. His fingers danced across your legs matching the melody.

There was no competition, it was the best birthday you’d ever had. Nineteen, in love, and only dreaming of another life in another city when you smoked before bed, an easy fix to a much bigger problem.

Next Chapter: Christmas

End Note: I didn't get a lot of traction or feedback on the last chapter, but I also don't think it was my best work. I'd really appreciate a little love on this one, just to keep me motivated. I've got ideas for other stories but I want this story to finish strong.

Fic Taglist: @ajeff855 @b-barnes04 @nerd-squad-headquarters @word-wytch @harrys-tittie @munsonsmel0dy @sidthedollface2 @eddiethesexy @bardicfrustration @orpheusredux @munsonsgirl71 @a-time-for-wolvess @eddieswifu @rosaline-black @thegirlwhohides @emotionaldreamer @e0509 @briasnow-blog @kiyastrf94 @erinsingalong @rainylana @thescarletangelsstuff @mrsdollardog @tayhar811 @chickennug90 @b-irock @nana90azevedo @eddiemunson95

Eddie Taglist: @solomons-finest-rum @ruinedbythehobbit @munsonlives @sweetpeapod @depressooo-expressooo-blog @thorfemmes @hawkins-high @corrodedhawkins @grungegrrrl @lilzabob @mymoonisalways-in-scorpio @averagemisfit03 @ches-86 @ilovecupcakesandtea @onehotgreasymechanic @hazydespair @lacrymosa-24

#Mine #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson Fanfic #Eddie Munson Fanfiction #Eddie Munson Reader Insert #Eddie Munson/Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x You

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